Post by jessecross on Nov 3, 2009 2:10:48 GMT -5
I sat alone atop the lonely rock above the freezing water's edge. The waves lapped rhythmically on the base, and I wondered just how long I would sit here before insanity brought me back to the reality I so longed to be released from. Life had no meaning in this plain old town, and only three years ago I thought my time here was over; I thought wrong.
My enlistment in the marines only made leaving here harder. I was drawn to this stink town even more than before my eighteenth birthday. I assumed it was just the yearning to be near friends and family. A need for familiar things around me; instead I was running in the bushes, and being shot at from all angels.
The training course wasn't nearly as difficult for me as it was for the rest of my troop. We all joked about my weird endurance level; called me "Freak Rabbit". They never knew how right they were. Only instead of a cute little bunny; I'm a furious ball of machine. What most people call "Shape Shifters".
Needless to say, I'd rather things turned out like this. It was tough to pull the wool over my comrade's eyes for any amount of time, when I barley knew the old folk tales myself. The anger and rage of my first shift was almost unbearable.
I tossed the stick I was twiddling with into the water. Thinking about life before I came back from the war is stressful. All that fear never leaves the sent of roses in my nostrils. I'd only heard stories about what I was; I also thought I was the only one of my kind I'd missed so much.
My squad took a break from the firing long enough to bring back some sort of peace to us men. Quickly, I wrote a letter to my parents explaining the predicament I was facing. If no one could help me here, they could from home. Days we camped out in the dew soaked bushes; it felt like decades before I finally got the letter back. With wet trembling fingers, I pealed back the envelop and open what I'd hoped would be answers. However, there was only one word written in red ink in the middle of the page, "Vampire".
So when we hit a small village just a few miles out side our target, guns blazing, I made sure I was hit. The pretty scar around my left eye is subject to that. After we over ran the renegades the government shipped me back to the U.S. with an Honorable discharge. Props of being an only child, and the last male to carry on the family name, I was a volunteer.
"Enough," I groaned, rubbing my hands roughly over my face. All I wanted was to be free. Free from the shackles that bind me to this place. I glanced up at the darkening skys. My friends say this is the place to be,but I wonder if any of them have even passed the city limit marker. To be lost in a place equivalent to hell as the people around you drop like flies, and the bullets fly around as if flames were grazing your flesh.
My mom claims my need for freedom is just because I need to find love. Really, who could love a monster like me? Sure there are others like me, but none that have been through the things I have. I'm not complaining, just saying, it's hard to love when death's all around. Reminds me of that Hey Stack song, how does it go? Oh, right.
"I'm hard to love.
Some say I'm hard to like,
but I've been through a few things
and I'm scared for life.
I've got bruises on my spirit
dents in my chin
and I'll never let any body get me again.
I'm hard to love," I whispered the words smoothly as I let the anger I knew so well take it's own form. The colts jersey I had on ripped into shreds along with my pants, and where my human form once sat; a grey wolf took my place.
It's easier to deal with unwanted emotions in this form, and thank God I haven't found Jacob yet, otherwise I'd have company, but for now I'm a loner.
For the past several weeks I've been tracking some "odd" shapes in the forest. Nothings happened as of yet, but I'm keeping a watch. My heavy chest heaved in annoyance, and I folded my legs comfortably under me. I'm nothing spacial. There's no magic here...
(if you do join, plz write more than two sentences. It doesn't have to be a ton, but enough detail to get the point- thanks) ;D
My enlistment in the marines only made leaving here harder. I was drawn to this stink town even more than before my eighteenth birthday. I assumed it was just the yearning to be near friends and family. A need for familiar things around me; instead I was running in the bushes, and being shot at from all angels.
The training course wasn't nearly as difficult for me as it was for the rest of my troop. We all joked about my weird endurance level; called me "Freak Rabbit". They never knew how right they were. Only instead of a cute little bunny; I'm a furious ball of machine. What most people call "Shape Shifters".
Needless to say, I'd rather things turned out like this. It was tough to pull the wool over my comrade's eyes for any amount of time, when I barley knew the old folk tales myself. The anger and rage of my first shift was almost unbearable.
I tossed the stick I was twiddling with into the water. Thinking about life before I came back from the war is stressful. All that fear never leaves the sent of roses in my nostrils. I'd only heard stories about what I was; I also thought I was the only one of my kind I'd missed so much.
My squad took a break from the firing long enough to bring back some sort of peace to us men. Quickly, I wrote a letter to my parents explaining the predicament I was facing. If no one could help me here, they could from home. Days we camped out in the dew soaked bushes; it felt like decades before I finally got the letter back. With wet trembling fingers, I pealed back the envelop and open what I'd hoped would be answers. However, there was only one word written in red ink in the middle of the page, "Vampire".
So when we hit a small village just a few miles out side our target, guns blazing, I made sure I was hit. The pretty scar around my left eye is subject to that. After we over ran the renegades the government shipped me back to the U.S. with an Honorable discharge. Props of being an only child, and the last male to carry on the family name, I was a volunteer.
"Enough," I groaned, rubbing my hands roughly over my face. All I wanted was to be free. Free from the shackles that bind me to this place. I glanced up at the darkening skys. My friends say this is the place to be,but I wonder if any of them have even passed the city limit marker. To be lost in a place equivalent to hell as the people around you drop like flies, and the bullets fly around as if flames were grazing your flesh.
My mom claims my need for freedom is just because I need to find love. Really, who could love a monster like me? Sure there are others like me, but none that have been through the things I have. I'm not complaining, just saying, it's hard to love when death's all around. Reminds me of that Hey Stack song, how does it go? Oh, right.
"I'm hard to love.
Some say I'm hard to like,
but I've been through a few things
and I'm scared for life.
I've got bruises on my spirit
dents in my chin
and I'll never let any body get me again.
I'm hard to love," I whispered the words smoothly as I let the anger I knew so well take it's own form. The colts jersey I had on ripped into shreds along with my pants, and where my human form once sat; a grey wolf took my place.
It's easier to deal with unwanted emotions in this form, and thank God I haven't found Jacob yet, otherwise I'd have company, but for now I'm a loner.
For the past several weeks I've been tracking some "odd" shapes in the forest. Nothings happened as of yet, but I'm keeping a watch. My heavy chest heaved in annoyance, and I folded my legs comfortably under me. I'm nothing spacial. There's no magic here...
(if you do join, plz write more than two sentences. It doesn't have to be a ton, but enough detail to get the point- thanks) ;D
