Black Roses and Other Beautiful Things (Toast)
Oct 20, 2011 4:08:57 GMT -5
Post by The Hypocrisy of Truth on Oct 20, 2011 4:08:57 GMT -5
There's a world full of people dying from broken hearts
Holding onto their guilt thinking they fell too far
So don't be afraid to show them your beautiful scars
[/color][/size][/font]Holding onto their guilt thinking they fell too far
So don't be afraid to show them your beautiful scars
The world had crashed down around her and her family. She had taken life for granted and it showed her how easily it could be lost. The closest thing she had to a best friend had fought against death and lost. Two days later, here she is, still wondering... still wishing... No. She couldn't have done anything. And she was smart enough to know it. Those who weren't... Well, that's not her problem, is it?
The path she was walking could barely be seen through her half open half closed eyes. She wasn't even sure she was walking. Vena opened her eyes enough to spot a sturdy outside wall to a building she didn't recognize and let her weight rest on it. As she stood there leaning against the wall, her mind remembered her now long lost friend. Two and a half days ago, they were walking the streets, talking to cute guys, and training. She was the type of friend that Vena could sit on a porch swing with, never say a word, and get up feeling like she'd just had the best conversation in her life.
And then two days ago, her world came crashing down with just a short, yet remarkably painful, phone call. At first she didn't know what to do. Every part of her was screaming it isn't true. Apparently it had happened in the alley of a low class restaurant. So that's where she went.
Peacekeepers were already surrounding it, but they had no respect for any dead that wasn't their own, so she got to go past them and into the alley. The first thing she noticed was the blood. Or rather, the abundance of it. It seemed as though there was enough to fit in three people. Vena had always had a strong stomach for things such as gore, but it almost proved otherwise in that instant. The smell of rotting flesh forced Vena to cover her nose and breathe through her mouth.
Her eyes fished through the gore and toxic air for her friend's lifeless body. It only took a second. Vena's hand fell away from her face to hang limply at her side and her knees crashed into the heard concrete as her legs gave way to the horror she was taking in. She tried to close her eyes but they wouldn't obey. Her friend was laying there in such a way that she didn't even look human. Her body was forced into a grotesque position. The marks on her limbs told Vena she fought valiantly and lost. Stab wounds varying in depth decorated the torso of Amelia's corpse. One arm was covering her stomach, insinuating she was trying to protect it from another puncture wound. Either that or trying to hold the blood in. Her other arm was broken and in a disgustingly wrong position. One leg was bent so it was under her body, and the other had been twisted so it jutted out from her body. Someone had taken a great deal of effort and time to do that.
As she remembered it in her head, Vena winced and her shoulders slammed into the walls behind her. In that moment, looking at her best friend's deformed shell of a body, Vena had made a promise. A promise to kill whoever had done this to her beloved Amelia.