SuicidalBee

IMPORTANT: READ THE FIRST LINES OF THE DESCRIPTION BEFORE READING THE STORY ~~~~~~~~~~ Key: _______ : Name or last name (h/c) : Hair colour (e/c) : Eye colour (s/c) : Skin colour (b/s) : Body shape ~~~~~~~~~~ Chapter 1: Proposal Interrupted Japan lighted up his way upstairs with his cell phone, then, he turned on what seemed another corridor (according to the dim light and his visual memory). He placed his free hand on a wall to guide himself, like a blind. He felt the textured tapestry and the wooden base sliding in the middle of his limb, leaving a trail of dust on his fingers and palm. The wall suddenly ended, and his cell phone

WARNING: MINIMAL DRUG USE IN THIS CHAPTER Chapter 1 “Standing in the rain, with his head hung low Couldn't get a ticket, it was a sold out show Heard the roar of the crowd, he could picture the scene Put his ear to the wall, then like a distant scream” The breath in his singing blurred up the little window, which was wet by dew. Threads of morning saliva set up and spread out in his mouth. His vision was obstructed by fog and sleeps. The white and red guitar felt heavy in his shoulder and back, and his fingers were barely awaken. It was like that until he reached the E major… and then the heavy chords filled the environme

WARNING: IMPORTANT TO READ THE DESCRIPTION BEFORE READING THE STORY Prologue Tic-tac-tic-tac-tic-tac The clock hands ran uninterruptedly, piercing thus the ears of the nations. The sound of nails tapping the large wooden meeting table could also be heard. Everything was silent excepting for those things, along with the storm outside. The weeping weather could be seen through the huge bay windows, raining with all its impetus, the enraged wind threatened about swiping off the weak trees, the sky was painted with greyish blue acrylics and covered with dark cumulus, and every now and then, one lightning bolt or two could be descried from afa

Prologue “Don't wake up, won't wake up, can't wake up No, don't wake me up Don't wake up, won't wake up, can't wake up No, don't wake me up” He ran uninterruptedly through the streets of London, not caring who he was crashing to, how many cars could have hit him or how the lyrics of the song continued. He ignored the people cursing at him, right now the only melody that filled his ears was the sad music, and the only thought that ran in circles within his head was… him. “It's the early morn, lights flick on Sleepy eyes peek through the blinds at something wrong Motionless remains the mess Shame, such a beautiful, be

"Why'd you leave Balincrest?" "My brother went here" "Dead Poets Society" ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The hurtful and elegiac sound of a bagpipe inconsolably wailing flooded completely the holy pavilion. Scots, why a lot of gross guys would be that proud just for a piercing sound like that infernal instrument's? Maybe they can have –and let's say not well founded –their own reasons, but either way, it was still implausible, even more coming from people like them. Originally, Burns Night is celebrated only in Scotland, but it's obvious that he was the one who forced his siblings (not to mention that he also alluded to the

PROLOGUE “Before we go any further, let's get this out of the way. I want you to do three things for me. One. Do not be offended by anything you read beyond this point. Two. Leave your inhibitions at the door. Three, and most important. Everything you see and hear from now on must remain between us. “The Juliette Society” by Sasha Grey ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Mathias' POV: *FLASHBACK* *crash* “You little idiot!! Where the hell have you hidden now!? I swear that as soon as I see you I’ll behead you, and then I’ll rip out your arms to slice them and serve them with the nettle soup, and on the w

“Have you ever wondered why fish can be seen in a sprinted river? Even when the enraged course travels with all their impetus, they pass through our eyes, as quick as a flash, and then they’re gone, disappearing at the origin of the fall” The redhead Victorian girl asked The scarlet witch smirked, with taciturn lips. “Because” the crimson deity gulped, “They crave for their fifteen seconds of glory; they do their best to follow the speed of the water. They’re too blind in their seek of freedom… that they are unable to notice, that, at the end, they’ll only meet their final breathe&rdquo