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The End of the Beginning, Chapter 2 |
| Written by AROB | |
| Wednesday, 16 July 2008 | |
Present- Jane
Hazy figures run toward me from a distance, none of them are Peter. I begin to panic thousands of thoughts race through my mind all of them leading me to the same conclusion. I have to hide now. Looking around frantically I ran, my heart pounding as the figures came closer. Turning a corner I run into a dead end, and my heart is breaking. I know when he sees the bloodied mess of my former self they will leave behind he will die inside. I can't bear the thought of his warm eyes growing cold.I know what needs to be done.I walked out of the alley and into the streetlight ready to fight.
3 months earlier "Stop moving!" Peter cried. Throwing his hands up in exasperation. "How am I ever going to finish this if you keep shaking? " He asked. His voice teasing. " I'm not trying to move! I can't help it," She replied. "Maybe if it wasn't so cold in here... but we both know we can't make it any warmer. " "I can't help it," he replied. Mimicking her perfectly. " Besides if you want me to make this painting as beautiful as you, then you have to stay still." His eyes knew exactly how to read her, and right now she was trying her best not to melt every time he looked up at her. The green of his eyes could cool and scorch her at the same time and she loved it. Whenever he was around she couldn't think or feel anything except him. Sometimes she would black out from the sea of emotions, happiness overriding her mental capacity. I wonder if he knows that he is my whole world? I wonder if she knows that she is my whole world? Peter thought as he caught her eyes again. He looked at her intensely trying to get every detail right. The bruise on her wrist was finally starting to fade. It hurt him knowing that she had the smallest of injuries even if it was accidentally self-inflicted. He felt a wave of guilt; he knew that being with her would only end up hurting her more. As he looked up he fell in love again. It was too late, he was unable to escape her, and his love would always belong to her. I will protect her, he thought. Even from a bruise. Peter set his brush down and hung the painting on the wall behind him." It's finally done." Sitting down next to her on the couch, he pulled Jane into his arms holding her closely and said, "I love you." Unable to pull oxygen into her lungs Jane smiled and whispered "I love you too." Looking up Jane saw that the bruise on her left wrist looked different.What did he change? The color...no. It had been turned into a heart. It was small and fragile but the most beautiful thing she had ever seen.
Present- Peter
Are my eyes open? Darkness. He slowly started to remember. ****. I need to find Jane, she must be so afraid. His eyes adjusted and he stood up. Knocking his head on the low ceiling and thrusting his arms out to feel the walls. The walls felt strange, almost gooey as he traced them with his fingers. Suddenly he screamed low and angry, his hands had started to burn. Gently touching his hands to his white shirt he pulled back in agony. He finally realized where he was...
Present- The Despos It pushed the door open to the almost desolate apartment. The apartment smelt like human, and she almost gagged. How the hell can he stand that? She wondered.Turning back to the hallway she called the others in. Search for anything that will help us find her sooner.How could they think they would be able to leave without any consequences? Looking into the bathroom mirror she saw the only thing that made her different from the others. Her eyes. So red like freshly spilled blood, she knew how to use them. One of the others entered the room. "There is no sign of where she has gone." He said, timidly expecting her to bestow her immense wrath upon him. " Fine." she said. "We will use the humans to help us. Find a picture of her." "The only thing with her face on it was a painting," he said. Turning angrily she said, "Let me see it." Walking down the corridor all she could think was of how much this was going to cost all of them. Those that could defy her, they weren't supposed to exist. Swiftly turning the corner she saw the portrait hanging and tore it down leaving edges jagged and exposed. "This good enough." she said and they left quickly. The door slammed shut behind the others leaving the apartment like a tomb. On the floor lay a torn piece of the painting, the bruise ripped in two.Copyright 2008 AROB |
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