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Literature Text
Bluew hated living in her house. Hated the way her family treated her, the way the place smelled of them, and most importantly, the way the thoughts kept coming back. She could never get them to leave her head when she was there. If she was at school or a friends house, they would leave, and she would be normal. But when she was at home or with her family, they would stalk her every second.
She never told anybody about the thoughts because she was afraid of how they would react. She didn't want to be made fun of, or have to go to a psychiatrist. She figuerd that if she just fought against them, that they would eventualy go away; they never did. They got worse as the time went on, and she soon found herself talking to them.
Bluew would lock herself in her room and talk to them, fighting to drive them out of her head. She was good at acting, so her family had no idea about what she was going through. They still thought she was a normal child, even when the thuoghts started to take ober her body. One night, she grabed candles, matches, and a needle. She had always been afraid to use matches, out of fear that she would burn herself, but tonight was different.
Tonight, she lit the candles and sat down on the floor, the needle in her hand. She reached out, and held it in the little flame that the candle gave off. SHe watched as it got hotter and hotter, untill it turned red hot. Only then did she pull it out. She moved quickly, not letting it cool down that much, and pulled it to her upper chest, between her brests and clavical. Her skin hissed against the hot metal, as did she through clenched teeth.
Bluew repeted the process, almost reduced to tears by the time she was done. She looked down at her skin, and saw that the burns were already blistering. the pain was going to be worse tommorow, she knew that. She could feel it getting worse already. The candles, matches, and needles were put away quickly and soon she was laying down within minuets. She nuzzled into her pillow and closed her eyes, feeling sleepines over coming her. The last things she rememberd before falling asleep, was 13 words falling from her lips unknowingly. "All that we see or seem, is but a dream within a dream".
She never told anybody about the thoughts because she was afraid of how they would react. She didn't want to be made fun of, or have to go to a psychiatrist. She figuerd that if she just fought against them, that they would eventualy go away; they never did. They got worse as the time went on, and she soon found herself talking to them.
Bluew would lock herself in her room and talk to them, fighting to drive them out of her head. She was good at acting, so her family had no idea about what she was going through. They still thought she was a normal child, even when the thuoghts started to take ober her body. One night, she grabed candles, matches, and a needle. She had always been afraid to use matches, out of fear that she would burn herself, but tonight was different.
Tonight, she lit the candles and sat down on the floor, the needle in her hand. She reached out, and held it in the little flame that the candle gave off. SHe watched as it got hotter and hotter, untill it turned red hot. Only then did she pull it out. She moved quickly, not letting it cool down that much, and pulled it to her upper chest, between her brests and clavical. Her skin hissed against the hot metal, as did she through clenched teeth.
Bluew repeted the process, almost reduced to tears by the time she was done. She looked down at her skin, and saw that the burns were already blistering. the pain was going to be worse tommorow, she knew that. She could feel it getting worse already. The candles, matches, and needles were put away quickly and soon she was laying down within minuets. She nuzzled into her pillow and closed her eyes, feeling sleepines over coming her. The last things she rememberd before falling asleep, was 13 words falling from her lips unknowingly. "All that we see or seem, is but a dream within a dream".
Literature
Remember You
"I'm sorry Mr Mundy, but we're going to have to ask you to leave."
Sniper looked up from Spy's limp body and nodded slowly, wiping away his tears. He laid Spy down gently, like a delicate ornament, on his hospital bed.
"Goodnight Luv..." He pressed his lips to his lover's forehead gently and stood, watching Spy as he did.
"Can ya' make sure they treat 'im well? Not just chuck 'im in a coffin."
The nurse inclined her head and opened the door wider, "His funeral was already organised, we'll contact you."
He nodded tiredly and let a second nurse lead him from the room.
She practically pushed him down the hall, trying to get the numb man away fro
Literature
Meet the Medic
[Opens in RED basement of 2fort, camera coming from resupply room facing spiral stairs. ]
[BLU Scout with the RED intel exits intel room via hallway closest to spiral stairs. ]
BLU Scout: (With a smug look on his face)"Wave goodbye to your secret crap!"
[Scout runs towards camera and turns corner to head towards straight stairway, camera follows. ]
[Scout turns corner to stairwell and stops adruptly. Camera pans forward for a close up of the RED Medic. Medic bears a disgusted look on his face. ]
[Scout's jaw drops]
Medic: (Begins Syringe gun taunt, reaching up to tug on the glove of his other hand) "So
you zhink you can escape,
Literature
TF2--Memories, Ch. 1
Pairing: SniperxScout
Autobalance is a strange thing. Neither teams really understand it. All they know is that one day someone disappears, and the next time they seem him is on the battlefield, wearing the enemy's color.
Sniper knows this firsthand. Probably understands the process the most, being a victim of the cycle. He originally joined RED about two years ago, and since then has been autobalanced once. From RED to BLU. It's
weirdwaking up in the opposing base, in an identical room, in identical clothing, but different colorsbut at the same time not strange at all. Because he forgets. When there is autobalance, there
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Okay, before you start to think things, I AM A HAPPY CHILD!!! I just have a thing for stuff that's depressing.
The quote is from on of Edgar Allen Poe's poems. I can't remember which one it was....
The quote is from on of Edgar Allen Poe's poems. I can't remember which one it was....
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