chapter chapter one;; white cuts UNHEALING
LEARNING how to
&&LOVE!

the white cut unhealing.

this life surely isn't all it was cut out to be. these lies you say, the routes you take. mistake after mistake after bloody, unforgotten mistake you make. forgiveness is not an option any longer; too many i'm sorry's were murmured in the dead of the night, as i welcomed you gladly back into my beaten arms. your body, so small and fragile; how could i ever say anything to hurt you? beautiful blue eyes, sad, quite smile. you promised me, no regrets, the word like a lock on your smooth, warm lips. i'm melting, in your eyes. soft, aqua liquid, consuming my mind whole, making is so only my beating, beaten heart is left. it was my own mistake, sleeping with you till the sun burned out. but now, in the dead of the night, on this cold, cold winter day, no sun is shinning like a jem in the sky, only blackness, darkened blackness. but now you're gone, you're out of here forever. and your unforgiven, and i'm unforgetting. forever mistaken, i was, with that coy, innocent, weakened smile on your rose petal lips. shovel digging deep, deep, deeper into the frozen soil. hands becoming blusters, face, frozen like a mask. ear splitting screams, thrown into the midnight air, mourned by death of yet another victim. childlike body, slowly placed into the too-big grave. your dead, closed eyes, forever avoided by mine, still living. hand warming yours as i place your fingers on your stomach, flowers linked between. violets, to almost match your dull eyes. could i stand it? could i bare it? covering your platinum features with that of black, black, deep black dirt? shovels' scoping slowly, ghostly body, forever buried. no regrets. last shovel full, packed down tightly. forgive and forget. tombstone laid on top of the grave, the face of a sad angel, your name, forever etched in stone, the lyrics to our song, written underneath. wake up, my love. such a brilliant star you are. wake up. wake up. wake up, my love. such a brilliant star you were. wake up, wake up, wake up, my love. come to life, come into my arms again.

i never meant to hurt you, i never meant to see your frozen tears. to see your body spread across the floor, so lifeless, so surreal. but you.. hurt me. and you.. left me. and how was i supposed to stand you toying with my heart, running back and forth between your two lovers. was it all just a game to you? do you think it was a game for me, too? i never meant to hurt you, i never meant to make you shed a frozen tear. so kiss me like you did, my heart stopped beating, such a softer sin. such a quieter touch. and i can join you in that fiery hell, and it won't matter that I'm dead too, because i'll have you, resting in my beaten arms. two teenagers, one in love, one in lust. my dear, do you think that will matter where we're heading? where you are, where i'm headed? i never meant to hurt you, i never meant to make you shed a frozen tear, and standing over your grave, i'll persuade myself this is the last bed i'll ever sleep with you in. laying on top of the soil, snow covering your ashen stone, i'll sob and i'll cry, like a child who lost his favorite possession. wake up, wake up, my love. fall into my arms once more. i never meant to hurt you, i never meant to see you shed a frozen tear.

the rope hangs down, a perfect height for a child's death. creaking against it's post, breeze taunting it to fall down, to collide with the frozen, snow covered ground below it. death, it squeaks, hymns so evil and twisted, sorrow, bodies, bodies, dead, sorrowful bodies. a secret song, sung to raise the sleeping from their grave. women and children, innocent men and black slaves. clothes so old, so out dated. scornful, resentful, longing looks sent to the gallows, the millions of them, hanging down loosely from the trees, their posts. ghostly faces pale, children dressed in white lace and beggars clothes. they reach out, the cry, the walk to wards you, like your their savior. help us. is the only words i've ever heard escape from their lips. escape your own fate. the men will shout, their words sounding as though screamed from under water. leave this place. the women will chant in sympathy. but just hold your head up high, and wait for their ashen fingers to caresses your skin. they fall apart at the touch of a warm, living body. fog, they turn into, all of them, as the disappear from the touch of another. it's a routine of theres. warn him, touch him, leave him there for another lonely night as he mourns the grave of another. the last to go, always the last, is the ashen girl with platinum locks, and a russet boy, lanky features, casted smile, holding hands as the disappear to the main gallows, the biggest fear, were they kiss goodnight and fall into the same grave.

stepping over the poorly made graves, i picked careful way back down the hill, away from the major gallows, images of the dead, swirling around in my head. ohh, how sad it was, to see the ghosts of children, dancing around you, ribbons streaming in their hair, mud stained on their faces. white lacy dresses, soiled with dirt. but a realm like this acquires for everything more then the weak at heart. memories, of your babies, you'll never see, you're just pretending. you'll try, and it's all you can do. you never thought this would happen to you. women holding unborn children in their arms, as if the mothers died before the chance to give birth. men, hands callused and arms draped over their wives, what's with this world, and it's social horror scene? though no more orbs remained, i could still feel.. someone in my presence. if you live with these banshee's long enough, you tend to become accustom to when something is in your presence, and when it's not. but then i heard it. "momma said 'baby's riding off to dream land, one by one they've begun dance and prance for little baby...' blacks and bays, dapples and greys..." i smiled. this song.. ohh. this song. then i saw her; a dapple grey mare, ashen locks breezing in the wind. fear consumed her eyes. i knew that feeling. i lived by that feeling.
"running in the night, when you wake, you shall have, all the pretty little ponies." soft lyrics arose and casted over to her. "it's a good song, is it not? it always calmed me as a child." is she a ghost, just in equine form, like all the others? who in their right mind would come here? "you may label me crazed for asking you this, but you are real, correct?" i laughed then, in realization she probably will think i'm on crack. eerie hymns, not quite like the gallows, more haunted, sliced the silence. "can't you see the little ponies, dance before your eyes?" the ivory mare continued to shake, and i realized this was her fear. "oh, do not be alarmed. must of the children here take comfort by singing in their graves." lenses flickered to the lone gallows that swim but twenty feet away. "ah, yes. that would be alice. she's a beauty, she is. very young, but five years old." haunted lyrics stumbled over the words memorized so well by a kinder gardener. "all the pretty little ponies, will be there when you arise." the smile that came to my lips as the babe finished, i was sure, not apparent on the minx's kissers. "i believe she was hung for stealing a loaf of bread. her mother and younger brother were starving, so the story goes. though the child didn't realize her family was already dead, and not in a starvation sleep. " lenses slowly moved from the gallows, to the dove. "this realm is not such a place for a damsel to be traveling. alone, or not. things more.. haunted then alice reside here." lonely cry, mournful scream, distant moans of the dead filled the night. wake up, wake up, wake up!

chapter chapter one;; white cuts UNHEALING
LEARNING how to
&&LOVE!

the white cut unhealing.

hushaby, don't you cry. wipe those tears off your ashen face, and come into my arms once more. i'll try not to notice the hole in your skull, the blood, dried crimson in your hair, splatters on your shirt. these harmful i'm sorry's won't cut it any longer. please, oh baby please, don't leave me again. don't walk off into the fridge, winter night, a fake lie on your lips, you a harmless bag around your shoulders. it's a business trip. your last words to me spin wildly around in your head, as you lay with him, his arm around your bare shoulders, snoring lightly in your ears. your heart screams for me. your minds shakes. what have i done? yet you keep leaving, and coming, and you just can't make up your mind, can you? i've figured out the truth, and i regret what i've done now. a letter form him, addressed to you, hiding innocently in the pocket of you coat. i love you, i'll see you soon. it's so hard being away from you like this. you forgive me, right? forgiveness is such a funny little verb. and i hear you gasp as you walk into our bedroom, seeing your little love letter in my hands. i'm sorry. your lying whisper slices the the rage. no denying it, my dear? oh, you are a shameful bitch. say my name, so softy, as i reach for the gun. it's bullet shatters your skull so quickly, it's BANG ringing in my ears. at least it was a clean cut, right? your dead. no regrets, no regrets. your body's broken on the floor. no regrets, no regrets. the blood advances onto the carpet. no regrets, no regrets. you're dead, you're gone, forever. no regrets, no regrets. don't REGRET what you did, as you pull her already pale body out into the backyard. don't REGRET what you did as you dig for that rusty shovel in the old garage. don't REGRET what you did, as her body becomes consumed with soiled dirt. don't regret it, don't regret it, don't regret it.

who is she? what is she doing here? are you going to leave us? don't leave us, guillotine, don't leave us! child's voices fill my head. so soft, so eerie, so innocent. dawn approached quickly, as it seems, and the ghostly features rise form their grave once more. it's funny, how the act like their not even dead. children play in the ruins of a small village, the women clean soiled clothes at the river, and men work on their fields. nothing gets cleaned. nothing grows. but it's like a habit, doing the same routine you did when you died. i glanced over to the ivory mare as she spoke, but something caught my eye. in the light of the dead morning sun, i could see her eyes, so beautiful, yet kind of, slightly, misted. is she blind? but her head swung toward the tree, the gallows, once more. "it is odd, is it not? that a child remains a child forever, after death. she will never grow up, fall in love, get married, and lead the life she was supposed to a hundred years ago." lenses casted down, away from the tree, it's sight beginning to sicken me. swinging my body around, i made it so i stood in between her and the grave. it wasn't right, prying in on someones life. though that wasn't the problem. the problem was, what would happen, if they caught you. most people couldn't stare some ghosts in the eye, for it would attack them. they are, truly, undefetable. i am excepted here, for i am a loner, and i have shown the my trust. yet, for outsiders? i;ve seen cruel things. but then her lyrics rung out again, and within a second, he muzzle was on my shoulder. i stood there, shocked. it had been so long since i have been touched by another living object. and something of her.. beauty? dream on, guillotine. "yes, i am.. i am real, miss." hushed lyrics murmured to the ashen mare. then, "i couldn't imagine how terrified she must have felt.." her delicate head whirled around, looking at the tree once more, now behind me, as the child sung her last lyric. all went quite. "do not worry." lyrics murmured once more. "she will not harm you" cranium turned toward the eyes of savage men, killers, rapists, suicidal. but others.. what brings you here, anyway? hushed lyrics turned up higher, tone confused and questioning. "have you not heard the scary child's tail about Gallows Hill, dear minx?" coy smile. "they were true, you know." then, more softer, "you must leave, before this place is the death of you."

chapter chapter one;; you're just a
simple, little
&&WHORE!

the king of this pity party.

turn the TV off! we've got another dead kid with a highschool ring and his face is glorified all over the screen. what's with this world, and it's social horror scene!? this world, such a cruel and unforgiving place. someone falls to the ground, we trample them down harder. someone makes a mistake, we laugh in their face. someone says i love you, we label it teenaged lust and drama. ohh, i know how it feels to fall so hard, and strike the ground with a hard, false hope. a small lie. a dark secret. you think you're the only one with a broke heart and a beaten smile? you think your the only one who hates the masses? an ashen girl, standing in front of you, white dress and grey bags under her eyes, platinum locks placed high on her head. i wanted to fall! she screams to this tragic horror scene. so it's etched in stone; we all make mistakes. a lover, gone out of your life forever, because of a one night stand. a best friend, forever untrusting, because of a rumor you spread. it's time to fake what you say as you're turning away, though it's hard to be fake, facing you every day with regret, with remorse for the things that were said, but you know how alone we'll end up in the end, 'cause i don't want to see our lives destroyed by dismay. in these times of try, we live or die again. again and again and again. we fall, so hard. our bodies breaking on the ground, soft, twisted necks, and beaten, stricken faces. blood spilling out, you realize, those cuts you've been hiding on your arm are not the only way of evil escape. it's hard to live without love with the chance that you may find the whole world is waiting to hear what you say. from the heart, through your veins, to the answers that came here to save me, to guide me, and to show me the way. so i don't want to see our lives destroyed by dismay in these times of try, either we live or die again. but on the off chance you don't want to fall, that you actually may want to give if this horrid life another go, i'll be here for you. always. waiting, watching, hoping, praying. i may not know you, but i do love you. i do. so with a silent kiss and an unheard promise, we attempt to make a new statement in this social horror scene. i'm the king of this pity party, with my jewel encrusted crown.

runaway! runaway! flee this place, leave this place! the gallows whispers an eerie tune as the breeze dances it's frayed rope around the morning sky. colors of pinks, oranges, and golds mix in the watercolored sky. life blooms in the ghost town; ghoulish figures working, playing. birds chirping along to the squeaky tune to the gallows. trees, creaking in the harsh, winter breeze. a gust of snow, a flash of water. the dead emerald stalks go frozen beneath pistons. a memory of blood, a crisp scream in the air. i held my breath, and turned to the ashen girl, awaiting for her lyrics to pause. come, now. i said in yet another hushed tone. by night fall, this place will succumbed to your wildest nightmares. a pause. dear minx, i am not the one who decides your fate. whether you shall be tossed out of this ghastly realm or not; it is all up to you. a sigh. as i have stated before.. there are things here you do not, under any circumstance, went to fool around with. if you wish.. an unknown trouble, you should, prehaps.. common boy, get on with it! haste the day, haste the day! you best chance would either be to leave, or come to the shelter with me.

the shelter, the mere remains of an old, once grande, church, was the only place the banshees were not permitted to enter, and so for that reason, even though i trust.. these ghosts, i still stay there each and every night. i cannot stand the thought of this nearly blind fae wondering helplessly around once nightfall comes, and so i think it would be wise of her to accompany me back there. though it is only a mile away.. what is she doing here again? why would she come here? how am i supposed to be responsible for another's life? a slow intake of breath, and a nuzzle to the neck. please, follow me. unless, of course. you'd rather not. then, by all means, stay here and be devoured.. without awaiting for an answer - mostly because i didn't want to know what that may be - i took off at a slow place, trying to figure out just how slowly i should be moving in order for the minx to be able to reply on my footfalls for direction and pace. and soon enough, we were there. stepping lightly ofter the remains of an archway, and into the sacred building. it was always so breathtaking; even in ruins, it was outstandingly beautiful. it was as though the only life in this hellhole only came form here. a vibrant mural was painted on the wall, of Christ on the cross, his blood, so crimson, bleeding over his beaten body, and trailing onto the muddied, trampled ground. the sunset, set as the background, almost looked as though parts for the shinning clouds had been especially picked form then sky's heavens and placed ohso delicately on the mural. other then it's out standing colors, the church was nothing all that fancy. benches were set up along the isles, though long knocked down and pushed aside, and a preachers' podium was placed at the front, a pexiglass window of Mary, behind it. welcome the the closest version of heaven you'll ever get around here. i murmured, realizing how much inplace the ivory laced minx look here. oh! i exclaimed then, how rude of me to forget. a proper bow. my name, is guillotine. a soft smile, as the curtains fall down.

chapter chapter one;; what's with this world,
and it's social horror
&&SCENE?!

the king of this pity party.

fate is an elegant, cold hearted whore. she loves salting my wounds; yeah she enjoys nothing more. i bleed confidence, deep within my guts now. i'm the king of this pity party, with my jewel encrusted crown. the yellow tape goes up; !CAUTION!DONOTCROSS!CAUTION!DONOTCROSS! it reads. a team of special investigates are on your bloodied case, along with the forensics, CSI, FBI, NBC, AOL, LOL, ABC, and all the other investigates. indisclosed the file reads, your last school picture, paper clipped to the top of a manila folder, along with a more recent picture of you; body sprawled out on the floor, blood covering your pretty little face, NYU sweatshirt dipped in rustic crimson. wrapped up in a plastic baggie; a pink rose, just for you on valentines day; the clipped out letters: bE MiNe ♥. taped to the rose. concerned about your death, yes, but morgue already filled and teams still working on other cases, the cops fail to see the letters from your card, spell EMN, or emily madison nelson; his next victim. or how, even though he was careful, one of his invisible hairs had fallen into the rose, and a soft, light light light shoe print rested under the girls body. and with a sad sigh, and a pitiful smile, and a beaten heart, the world turns a blind eye to this murder scene. the masses are too good; the poor are too filthy. why should they care? why should they give a fuck about your broken little heart? you were just another body to feed. clothe, and pay. without you; the world could be a better place, yes?

so walk with me till the end of time; hand in hand with this russet boy, is the blue eyed girl. platinum hair, blowing wildly in the winds of heaven. she had given you a silent promise: to stay with you forever, to love you and hold you and never let go no matter what fate threw into your zigzagged path. but just hold your head up high, and strut past the masses with a coy smile on your face and given longing in your filled heart. this is heaven now baby; the land of the golden roads and an unregreted fate. a large hometown it is, housed to all of the high and mighty. but there you are, dragging in this devilish boy from the embers of hell. his clothes, burned black. his russet hair, wildy set ablaze, dancing to an invisible wind. a coy smile; pasted to his lips. so innocent, his eyes shine, though. a newly born child brought into his home for the first time, clinging to his mothers chest, the only object at which he knowns. play no notice to his frostbitten fingers, the blue tinge to his face, or the slight rope burn around his neck, and the odd, broken shape it makes when he turns his ashen head too fast. the weariness in his eyes; well, what do you except? one red, burning, unhuman hand, gripped onto his arm, another, soft white hand, silver glow, manicured nails, pulling the boy to his feet each time the hand yanks him down. your savior; your heroine.

blood colored pistons stood at a readied stance as the crimson boy looked around at the great chapel. it always took him by surprise; the lonesome beauty the place had; how the mural captured his full attention each time he walked into the ruins. but there was always, now and forever, dark magic, twisting it's way into the mind of another, even those who stood in here. the ghosts of witches, coyfully tempting the mind into the darkness and embers of fiery, burning hell. listen to our chants. they will often call in a eerie, mournful howl. come, my child. enter our world of no love boundaries and freedom beyond imagine. guillotine had once been told. it amused him; how even within the walls of some place so great and holy, darkness lied beneath every floorboard, and haunted every corner. and outside, the mindless corpses of the dead, also singing their pitiful hymns. flee boy, flee. quick! before the sheriff catches your evil deeds, and sends you to the gallows! all lifeless eyes turn to the Great One, the major gallows, the source of so many innocent deaths. the peasant boy drummer begins, the death anthem, his beats going steady, singing a mournful tune. the young boy, read the laws he supposedly broke, stood waiting on the milk crate they placed under his shaking legs, in order for his neck be high enough for the heavy, bloodied rope. the boys' eyes scan the crowd, falling on the face of his young widowed mother, weeping silently, and his little sister, but a few years younger, clutching onto their mothers skirt, looking up with confused eyes at her hero as her bony fingers slide up to the stolen locket around her neck, a parting gift from a brother to his kid sister. the drums cease for a moment, a hollow order is given, the rope is slashed, and the boards fall. the crowed begins to disperse, the young thieve of their nightmares, now not a worry any longer. the mother retreats into the crowd, following them downhill to the pitiful village. yet the child, the little girt with a locket around her neck and lanky arms wrapped around herself, feels a breeze blow her hair back, and a whisper murmured softy into her ear. " bye bye eddy." she says to the corpse hanging from the gallows. "i love you too."

the bays' lenses flickered to the ashen minx standing ohso delicately next to him. "blackmare" he murmured with a slight smile. "suits you perfectly." but then the smile falls from his face as banshee catches his eyes from outside the colorful window. sour mask on it's face, it turns away, back into the crowed that had recently formed outside the large windows. guillotine sighed. "you mustn't mind them. the bastards have a frightful way of scaring the living daylights out of you, but i don't think any will do you harm.. yet. for in here, they cannot touch you. but mind you, i would not venture outside these walls, for there are dark, dark dreams that will consume your pretty little mind within a second." he shuddered, rustic locks falling over his lenses. ohh, how badly the lad wanted to get the girl out of here, but this was his home, and why should he have to leave it? though having her in his lonesome company for a mere hour seemed like such heaven, a gift granted to none around here. and he began to wonder; this was his land, right? and there had to be more to it then just this ghost filled town, right? and if he could get himself and her out of here... a window shattering interrupted his thoughts. the boy looked at the rock that hand landed but a few feet from where he and the vixen stood, and the glass that sprinkled nearly half of the small building. "oh bloody hell." he cursed. "it amuses me to no end; how these banshees can pick up objects and shatter windows and grip necks and shake the living..." his voice trailed off as he looked at the lass standing next to him. he gave another great sigh. "they themselves will give you no harm, but the objects the are able to through, might." and with that, he ushered the ashen dove over the the farthest corner away from all windows and doors, up close to the preachers podium. a few white figures hovered by the window, blank expressions on their twisted faces. guillotine bared his teeth. "oh damn them" he muttered. then he turned back to blackmare, his eyes catching the beauty in here face, those misty, endless eyes. he laughed. "oh dear, please excuse all this nonsense, blackmare. this is probably not the lifestyle you are accustomed to... no one of your beauty and standers should ever have to live in, well, this." the boy glanced around at the ruins of the old church, then dropped his head to the ground as another stone, much smaller, was flicked into the room. but the bloodied hued stallion didn't seem to notice. his eyes were glued to the floor. being in the presence of a comely mare, let alone a mare period, sure was something he was not used to. he didn't know quite how to act, nor how close he should stand, or even if he should reach out to her in comfort. better keep his distance, anyway. "it may be a good idea for you to try and get some rest." guillotine said softy. "you may need your energy..." he altered his statement, thinking he better not say anything about his half worked out plan to get the hell out of here, and continue, kicking small flecks of glass away from their feet. "i'll protect you, though i do not think anymore harm shall come to us this night." he shifted his glance form the dusty floor, back up to the window, where no more ancient bodies floated. " running in the night, when you wake, you shall have, all the pretty little ponies." lyrics sung out, a different child's voice. guillotine shuddered at how the song form his past seem so sinister, and eerie now. run in the night, and when you wake, you will have all the ponies. he flicked his glance to the window once more. when he ran, no one shall have him. no one shall capture him. liquid topaz eyes found the minx in the dark, then, and he offered her a reassuring, yet somehow invitational smile. nor her.

chapter one;; the NEXT time i'm in town,
we will KISS,
&&GIRL!

the king of this pity party.

sitting alone, in a dark dark room, the tv turned up as loud as you can bare, throwing pictures and images of anything other then what you don't want to see. it's just a curse; you'll grow out of it, your parents told you ohso many times. but you didn't, and here you are, sitting in her dark, dark house alone, gluing your grey eyes to the tv screen, attempting to block out all ghastly images. it doesn't work. because, sitting there next to you on the sofa, is an ashen girl, with death white locks of hair, and a tall, lanky boy, dirtied russet hair falling over his eyes. he holds her as she sobs, and whispers lyrics, something about horses? into her soft grey ear. this always happens to you; it's your life's story. always, after a teenaged soul dies, you see them. and whether their good or evil; you'll never know. but sitting there next to you, consuming the frigged air, is yet another suicide couple, who indeed have to part for their journey to the afterlife. "you can't leave me, you can't. i love you.." you hear the ashen girl whisper, porcelain lips moving back and forth, trembling, against his neck as she speaks. you can tell; this is hard. the goodbyes always are. couples, teenagers, die together all the time, thinking they'll wind up in eternity together. they almost never do. "i know, i know baby. i'm sorry.." you can almost hear the thick sob coming up from the pit of his heart as he says the words once more: i'm sorry slowly, you move as close away from the couple as you can; ghosts, even some as these, can still lash out, kill, harm. you know, you've been through this before.slowly, you reach for the remote in the blackness, and turn the tv up louder. though you don't want to be here, invading in on their last goodbye just didn't seem right. "would you have done it, if you knew this was going to happen? if you knew we were to be separated right after?" the boy asked softly, and as the girl throws another round of sobs, the kid turns away, his alabaster face looking into yours, and you can see the tears spilling out form his lifeless eyes, rimmed by just a speck of clear blue. still there; still somewhat human. "well," the girl whispered between sobs, "i wasn't about to live without you.." through the light of the tv screen, their faces looked even more inhuman, blaring colors of light on their dead, ashen, slightly glowing skin. the tears spilling from their eyes are the only thing that makes them still look... human. "i'll always love you.." he said softly, and though the girl gripped his muddied shirt harder, pulling herself as close to him as she could get, she nodded. "we will see each other again. soon." the boy eyes flickered through a hint of doubt, though he nodded, turning back to her, coughing another sob. "of course." he promised, bringing her porcelain lips up to him, as they slowly begin to fade, the boy glowing a faint red, while the girl, an even brighter, silvery white.

and then, their gone, and you continue to sit there, staring a the pictures on the screen, yet seeing nothing. tears are brimming in your own eyes, and you wonder; would the girl really have done it if she knew it was going to end like this? but if the boy really did love her; why would he fall in the first place? but then, the lights flicker on, and your parents walk into the room, a questioning glance in their eyes as they see the two sat on places next to you on the couch, and the tears trying to fall form your eyes, yet they saw nothing. they just nod, and wish you goodnight, and walk up the steps to the bedroom. you sit there, watching them go, wondering if they'll ever realize how delicate you feel, like this world is all in your hands, and your the person to try and make it better. but as your eyes trail your parents, jogging up the steps, you seem them pass through a reflection of light, a glimmar of silver, and the form of a child, but fourteen years old, standing on the steps, watching as your parents pass through them. his face goes even paler, as he drops the gun form his hands, and it makes a silent shatter on the floor. his hands begin to shake, as his fingers trail up the side of his head, just above his ear, to the recently acquired hole, the sticky red matter no longer spilling from it. he whimpers, and sits down abruptly on he steps, his head in between his legs, rocking back and forth. you wonder then; is there a way to save them? "hey" you whisper so silently, you wonder if he's heard you. but he has, and his head snaps up quickly, a fire burning in his eyes as he reaches for the gun beneath his feet. you murmur softly to him, just a few soft lyrics, and he nods in understanding. you walk over to him slowly, as the glow begins to shine red around him. you reach out for his deathly cold hand, feeling the small clumps of dirt on his palms. you watch as he fades, his face smiling slowly the brighter the light gets, and soon, he's gone.
just like that.
and you smile.
and realize: not everyone has to be alone.

the lights faded dimly, stage crew, working feverishly to make sure the cast of this love scene comes to order. que the stars twinkiling brightly in the painted, deep blue sky, the full moon, shining just outside the window. faint winter breeze, a gust of perfect snow flakes. the king, our boy, watches as the maid slowly drops herself to the floor, restless, getting comfortable. guillotine stands, adgitated, over her. his fiery red crown, compleat with jewels of cobwebs and colors of shattered glass, fell over his topaz lenses, flicks of emerald shining so. the boy casted his gaze from the window, to the girl laying beside him. our king sighed. ohh, how beautiful she is.. he thought longingly. he watched as her eyes closed softly, and though how he longed to reach out and return her velvet touch, yet he stood there, practicing his breathing as he watched her. a whisper in the night, he turned his poll back towards the window. ohh god damned ghosts. he thought sourly as he watched yet another group of midnight watchers crowed around the broken glass window. he bared his teeth, and was about to lash out towards them, when he, once more, shifted his gaze back to the minx. so he just stood there, watching, as they all exchanged stern, harsh glances. finally, one banshee, with long hair and a wrinkled face, whom guillotine realized to be the leader for this town long ago, gravley guestered toward the boy, then extanded his old, alabaster arm, and pointed to the gallow, swaying slightly with the wind. guillotine raised his eyebrows, pondering what they meant. surley, he was not to be this said death's next victuim, right? but sleep soon corowed his thinking, and the boy was drifting off into a dreamless land of hope and dispare, the ghosts around him fading softly. stage crew pulling the curtains closed, a quite round of appluse. so beautiful, beautiful..