King
Edrick (I HAVE CHANGED HIS NAME TO JACCORRICUS) slowly opened the door to prince Damian's dark room, left
terribly guilty for what happened about mid-day, and now it was
surely about rise-night, or post-set, although there was scarcely any
difference between the two. When a ray of light flooded in the room,
it at least wasn't so dark, and he could see Damian had been
sleeping. Damian's eyelids flickered and opened, and when he looked
towards the king his eyes immediately darted to the ceiling. “Why
have you come in here?” he asked, coldly. When the king didn't
answer, he asked again, “Why have you come in here?” angrily as
before, exept this time his voice quivered. “If you don't care
about me than why have you come in here?” he yelled, sitting up
looking straight into the kings eyes. “Damian, of coarse I care
about you, where did you get the idea?” the king said
deffenciveley. “Don't avoid it! If you really cared about me, then
you wouldn't of locked me up! I would of rotted in there forever! You
wouldn't of done it to Alexzander!” he yelled, staring straight in
the kings eyes, who tried to intergect but didn't know what to say.
“Damian-” “You wouldn't have! For my own good? I almost had
killed myself and would of died soon anyways! If it were Alexzander,
you wouldn't have, but me, you wanted to get rid of! I'm a burden to
you! You have never truly cared!” “Damian-” “Do not 'Damian'
me! I do not want you to 'Damian' me again in my life! Ever! I hate
you! How many times do I have to say this? I hate you all!”
“Damian!” there was a moment of silence, exept for the heavy
breathing of the two, at almost exactly the same rate, which made the
king relise what it seemed like many had said. Why didn't he preffer
the child who was his exact likeness? Well, part of it was probably
that he had reminded him so much of himself. “Have you actually
truly cared about me father?” he asked, his voice quivering again.
There was a long pause. What could he say to that? It was a simple
question, with a simple answer, but why was it so hard? He didn't
even remember the last time Damian had called him “Father”. So,
he just answered what came naturaly. “Yes.” the king said,
because what other answer had he known? It was a question with only 2
answers, and the other would be both the wrong thing to say, and a
lie. “Yes I have Damian, how could I have not?” Damian's
expression softened, and he said, “then why was I locked up?”
another long pause. “because I was confused at the time and
and it ends there. NOW FOR THE NEXT ONE
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It
was a dark, cloudy day and the snow was turning to hail. Hopefully
he'd make it to his apartment with this weather and tires. He had a
paper to write. If only he was in the mood for it. He tapped his
fingers on the steering wheel as the red traffic light turned yellow,
and cautiously pressed his foot down on the gas pedal. No, he wasn't
going to slide into a ditch like last year. How he hated the “wet”
season. Yes, he needed a permanent vacation, not like there was
anything to miss. Yes, he would love it. Somewhere warm, california
if he had to, although it seemed so... juvenal in places. How that
could change a person... why was he revisiting this now? It seemed so
childish, but why did he keep on revisiting it? Would he have had
some purpose in life? Stop! No! He wouldn’t! No! No! No! What would
saying no do. Ah, what was wrong with him. Conversing with himself in
his mind. How... something. As he was trying to find what something
meant he saw a man on the side of the road with his thumb in the air.
Who could stand in this weather? Trying not to skid, he pulled over
to the side of the road. “You really shouldn't do these things to
yourself.” he said under to his breath, to himself of coarse. The
man was still standing there, arms crossed over his chest trying to
keep warm, not noticing anything. He rolled down the window, which he
kind of regretted, because of the sudden gust of cold that followed.
“You need a ride?” he asked the man, who afterwards approached
silently. Not the most friendliest way to reply in the world. He
suddenly felt intimidated. Oh why did he do this to himself? Maybe it
was... fate. The man opened the door and slammed it shut, and he
drove on. The man reminded him of a stray cat, sort of, he looked
half starved and very cold, and wasn't very well dressed for the
weather either. He wore a long trench coat and a long warn scarf with
a poorly knitted “T” on it, assuming that it was a T, although he
didn't look like the type to have his initials on his clothing, and
the way he was dressed along with his shoulder length soaked and
frozen hair and his distant look as he looked at the window, made him
more than seem like he didn't live anywhere near there. That, and the
obvious fact that he was hitch hiking. It seemed awkward having a
mysterious man sitting in the car that he didn't know anything about,
and although he normally didn't talk much, he decided to ask him a
question. “Just curious, what is your name?” the man turned his
head and replied “Pyrkagio.” Pyrkagio looked at him with a look
that was slightly a strange mix of pleading, sorrow, and some
sympathy, making him look slightly innocent, and that was only 50
percent of it. The rest was just a strange curl of his lip, which
probably was supposed to be a smile. Mocking or not, he wasn't sure.
Well, still awkward. So, he muttered to himself, “Now, how do you
spell that?” but Pyrkagio heard, apparently, and replied,
“P-Y-R-K-A-G-I-O. The G is silent.” helpful. Now at least he
could spell his name right. And say it. He sighed long and hard. “so,
why were you waiting on the side of the road?” a friendly start, he
hopped. “to get picked up. aren't you supposed to be driving?”
okay, maybe not. That was cold. Then Pyrkagio cleared his throat and
started to look out the window again. Was that a sorry? Hmm. Usually
he would be more intimidated if a mysterious man who wouldn't talk
much was riding in his car, but he seemed kind of familiar, and
really didn't scare him much. He seemed, just out of place. Awkward.
Maybe they did have something in common. Then he just said,
“The name's Dev.” and smiled, except Pyrkagio was looking out the
window, so he couldn't have seen it. He decided to ask another
question.“um, do you have a certain place in mind?”
“there's
a park around here, right?”
“yeah.
Are you meeting someone there?”
“No.”
“No.”
“then
why-” he decided not to ask why he was going there, in fear of
another unfriendly answer. “um, its coming up soon”
“what?”
“the
park.”
“Oh.
When the light up there turns red, aren't you supposed to stop?”
“what
light- oh!” he slammed on the breaks, causing both of them to lurch
forward.
“Can
you drive more cautiously?” Pyrkagio asked, while tightly grasping
the door handle.
“Do
you want to drive?”
“I
can't.”
“Oh.”
awkward silence.
“Well,
here's the park,...” Pyrkagio got out and when he was going to
close the door he turned and said “thanks... Devon” and he
replied “your welcome,” and Pyrkagio slamed the door shut. Then
he said to himself, “how did he know my full name was Devon? I only
told him Dev...” He could have been a good guesser, but then again,
maybe there was another reason...
and then there's this, a little fragment I found that I can not get over
Young look to the old
and old to the young
they never knew how to talk to animals
and forget how to talk to god
they are so confused
but nobody finds this odd
AND THIS WHICH IS JUST HILARIOUS AND I HAVE NO IDEA WHERE IT CAME FROM:
Once there was a man in
his cannoe
he had brought his wife
along too
he was the one who wanted
to move
to the northwest,
and of coarse he thought
the waters best!
Now she on the other hand
prefered the land,
of coarse he had to take
her along.
She was looking quite
sick,
while he was getting
hungry quick,
he opened a can
containing a substance
barely known to man
she asked him what it was
and then he said
Mamma's sardines!
Mamma's sardines!
Boy that smell really is
mean!
Mamma's sardines!
Mammas sardines!
And watching him eat them
was quite obscene!
AND THIS which just fits me so well:
Hand me a sponge and I'll greet it,
Hand me aged cheese and I'll eat it,
hand me a blog and I'll type my day,
hand me this moment and see what I
say...
as I look at the moon light
I remember my dislike for twilight,
and I'll listen to my old watch alarm,
its new twin strapped to my arm,
hand me a brush and I'll paint it,
hand me a 1700s coin and I'll have
fainted,
hand me some clay and I'll shape it,
hand me Hogwarts while playing tag and
imediateley snape's it...
as I listen to my favorite audio
program,
I think, can Regis Blaggard make jam?
I'll picture it in my head,
and dream about it when I go to bed-
hand me a rat and I'll pet it,
hand me a nonsence code and I'll get
it,
hand me some paint and I'll paint my
shoe,
hand me a document and I'll change the
font and color it blue...
as I sit here at my computer typing,
I look at the metal object that almost
knocked me out (trying to be rhyming),
I think about all the brain damage,
and then I suddenly want cabbage-
hand me a book and my summary will be
verry long,
hand me an idea and I'll write a song,
hand me cookie dough and I'll bake it,
hand me the world and I'll shape it,
Hand me a sponge and I'll greet it,
Hand me aged cheese and I'll eat it,
hand me a blog and I'll type my day,
hand me this moment and see what I
say...
WELL, THOSE WERE JUST A FEW OF THE MANY SELECTIONS, AND I AM NOW 4924 DAYS OLD!!! =D
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