I bent back gracefully, my arms extended to where my fingers almost skimmed the ice. I slid along a curve before straightening back up, a black feathered sleeve coming across my face. My feet crossed as I went into a small spin on the frozen water. I skated over to the light blue wall, and took a long breath.
I had been training for a skating competition for about a week, and I could feel the bruises from yesterday throbbing. I’d had my fair share of falls the past week and it seemed today the day the pain wanted to play hell.
I placed my arms against the railing and stretched. My feet slid behind me so my body now resembled a piece of wood. I kept the pose, feeling relief radiate throughout my body. I inhaled and exhaled slowly, but my breath only contracted when I heard her syrupy sweet voice ringing behind me.
“I like you in that position, babe,” my girlfriend, Celeste, purred. I brought my feet in and spun around to face the gray stairs that supported the blonde haired girl.
I forced myself to smile. “I figured as much.” I watched as a redheaded girl trailed behind Celeste, stopping a few stairs up from her. It was Tatum, my best friend’s sister.
Tatum rolled her eyes at Celeste, who was creeping across the ice, trying to get over to me. “Don’t bust your ass!” Tatum yelled sarcastically. I smiled up at her, this attitude was one of the many reasons I enjoyed her company.
Celeste giggled. “Even if I do Malak will catch me,” she slid over to me and crashed into my chest. I wrapped my arms around her, my fingers toying with the pink ruffles of her blouse. Her slim arms snaked around my waist, and she squeezed. I squirmed, regaining my balance already tampered by the skates.
“Careful now.” Celeste pulled away at the sound of my best friend’s voice. “I don’t want you to break him.” Sayer had a smirk on his face as Celeste raised an eyebrow.
I let out a chuckle and skated over to the side of the rink with the stairs. “That didn’t sound gay at all, Sayer,” I told him sarcastically.
Tatum and Sayer traipsed down the remaining stairs to stand in front of me. Sayer blinked a few times before raising his tanned hand and flicking me in the forehead. Tatum let out a laugh as my hand went up to it and I let out a whimper.
“Yeah, and that wasn’t?” Sayer raised a brown eyebrow, a glint in his yellow eyes, and a smirk still plastered on his angular face.
“Asshole,” I gave him the finger.
“Anyway,” drawled Tatum, “How’s the routine going?”
“Pretty good. I’ve only been close to breaking a bone,” I informed her, nodding slightly.
Tatum shook her head at me. “Are you reckless or clumsy?”
“Hm…” I thought this over for a moment. “Careless,” I said decidedly.
“You’ve that right,” Sayer looked me up and down, a slight catch in his smooth voice.
I gave him a sharp glare, warning him. But broke from the intense gaze when I heard a scream and oof. Celeste lay sprawled out on the ice. Her green eyes flashed up at me and she showed a sheepish smile.
“Help?” Celeste giggled. I sighed mentally and slid over to her. I lifted her up bridal style and took her over the concrete steps. I sat her down, and then her soft, pink lips met mine. I broke the kiss rather quickly, my face feeling flushed.
“Go get dressed,” Tatum took my arm and pulled me away from Celeste. “I don’t want to be late.”
“Where are you going?” I asked with an eyebrow raised.
“We,” she emphasized, “Are going to Espen’s party.”
“We?” I asked incredulously.
“Yes, we,” Sayer gave me a stern look, as if he wouldn’t put up with the protest he knew was coming.
“I don’t wanna go!” I whined with a vain hope they would actually give and let me stay home.
“Why not? It’s just Espen’s, it’s not like you’ll get lost,” Celeste said, chewing on gum that gave off a minty odor.
“It’s not getting lost I’m worried about,” I muttered bitterly.
Tatum-who seemed to have heard me-responded irritated. “Then what are you worried about?”
“I’m not worried about anything,” I tried to keep the venom from entering my voice.
“Then what’s the problem?” Tatum’s fists rested on her hips.
“I don’t want to go,” I said stubbornly even though I knew she was no match for me.
I heard Sayer sigh, but before I could turn to face him, he had his warm arms around my waist, lifting me up. I struggled uselessly in his tight grip. “Oh, you’re going.”
“Put me down!” I yelled as he carried me over to the changing rooms.
“No.” I looked up at his face, only to find a triumphant smile glued there. I gritted my teeth, Sayer may be my best friend, but that didn’t mean he never pissed me off. In fact, he did it quite frequently.
He opened the door of the dressing room, and stepped inside. I huffed when he sat me down on one of the benches. “Well?” I raised my eyebrows, waiting for him to leave.
Sayer crossed his arms over his chest. “You know, if I didn’t know you any better, I would swear you refused to go just for attention. So you could watch people beg you,” he said as he leaned against the cream-colored wall.
My eyes narrowed, not wanting to bring up the subject. “You’re still taking them, right?” Sayer asked referring to my anti-depressants. I’d been taking them for a while now, and often stopped taking them, much to Sayer’s disapproval.
“Yes, I am, so don’t worry about it,” I snapped at him.
“I just don’t want a repeat of last time,” Sayer said in a calm, quiet voice, so different from his normal one.
I sighed and let my eyelids drift closed. The last time I stopped taking the medication, I let myself get bad. I got to the point of attempting suicide. I sat myself on fire; it burned about halfway up my legs before Sayer-of all people-walked in. He watched me for a moment, then took the fire extinguisher out from under the garage cabinet, and hosed me down. After, he yelled at me. Ever since then, he’s been making sure I’m doing well. “It won’t happen again,” I promised him.
“Good, now get dressed,” Sayer, commanded me.
“I don’t want to go,” I told him firmly.
“That’s funny,” he pointed at me with a grin, “You actually think arguing is going to convince me otherwise.”
I glared at him pointedly. “I’m glad I amuse you.”
“Me too,” Sayer agreed, standing from the wooden bench. He bent to pick up my discarded jeans, and then threw them at me. They hit my lap and my hands rested on top of them. “Hurry up, before I call Espen and insist on rigging one of our drunken games so you and Celeste end up banging.”
He grinned widely, deviously, at me. I groaned and stripped out of the black, feathered suit Tatum made for me. She was studying clothing design at the college we attended. Sayer studied art, and I was a psychology and writing student. Of course, these two things had nothing to do with my profession.
I slipped on the jeans and shrugged on my worn, black shirt. I turned back to Sayer whom of which wore a look of disapproval. He shook his head.
“We’ll go by the house first. You are not showing up in that,” Sayer gathered my things and we strode from the dressing room to the steps that Celeste and Tatum stood.
“Ready, babe?” Celeste asked chirpily as she took my arm. She clung to it uncomfortably as I started up the steps, going in front of Sayer and Tatum. The sounds of my sneakers hitting on the concrete echoed in the large, empty room.
We exited the building and found ourselves in the parking lot. I headed straight for Sayer’s black Mercedes. I stopped at the back of the car, waiting for it to be unlocked. Sayer hit the button and slid into the driver’s seat. I followed suit, and rested my back against the interior. Celeste sat beside me and Tatum in the front next to her brother.
I could hear the soft murmurs of the siblings talking, I knew they were trying to keep their voices low, any other time I would’ve heard them. I figured they were speaking of me, and their concerns. That was their problem though, and not my business. Therefore, I let my eyelids drift closed, trying to tune out the sound of Celeste chomping on her gum, before I strangled her.
My irritability had been running high the past few weeks, yet I couldn’t find the reason why. Maybe I needed to switch medications once again. Maybe I’d been diagnosed wrong…No, it wasn’t that. I found myself lucky enough to have a genius, Russian psychologist, whom of which was willing to meet me in London-my parent’s hometown.
I lived in the states, but I went back over occasionally when Dr. Demidov needed to see me, or Sayer’s parents-who also lived in London-wanted their kids to pay a visit. Normally, Sayer, Tatum, and I went two or three times a year, not including the appointments.
“Out.” I looked over, startled. We were parked outside our house, and Sayer stood with the door held open, waiting for me to get out. His yellowed eyes looked out at the road as I stepped out, Tatum and Celeste following.
We entered the house, only to find Nia and Shayde on the leather couch. They boredly drank from their beer bottles, barely sparing us a glance as we entered. Sayer went over and plopped down by Nia-who was his girlfriend for all of four years. Tatum took a seat by Shayde-who’d been crushing on her for some time now.
An arm snaked around Nia’s slim shoulders, Tatum glaring viciously at Sayer.
I regarded them thoughtfully for a moment before speaking decidedly. “I’m now starting to feel happy about being an only child.” I left the room, ignoring the roar of replies following behind.
I went into my room, clothes scattered among the floor, and dust beginning to pile up on the wooden dresser. I sighed, for once acknowledging the fact I needed to clean up the room. I shook my head, promising myself to do it later. I leapt over a few clothing mountains, over to my clothes-filled closet.
I pulled open the door roughly. I scanned the choices lined up before me, and weighed my decisions carefully. Sure I may have had a girlfriend, and not wanting to go, but that didn’t mean I was going to look bad.
I bit my lip and decided on a pair of black jeans with a matching button-up shirt. Casual enough, but still gave me some class. I pulled off my other clothes, and swapped them with the new. I finished up the buttons on my shirt as I exited my room, going back to the main one.
Everyone sat on the couch, liquor in all hands. I felt shocked no one had thought to get handsy before we left. It could be a while until the privacy option came about. No one seemed bothered by this though, as they sat nonchalantly.
“Much better,” Sayer noted while nodding his head. He stood and came over to me, handing me the car keys. “You’re driving there, because I really don’t plan on coming back tonight.”
I shook my head as I walked toward the door, able to smell the whiskey on his breath after only a moment. “Alright.” I checked behind me, and sure enough, they all followed me out to the car.
I stepped in and started it up. I began to back out of the driveway.
“To Espen’s!” Tatum yelled pointing, then began to laugh at herself madly. I wondered of her sanity for a moment before dismissing it with a shake of the head and continuing on to Espen’s house.
I had been training for a skating competition for about a week, and I could feel the bruises from yesterday throbbing. I’d had my fair share of falls the past week and it seemed today the day the pain wanted to play hell.
I placed my arms against the railing and stretched. My feet slid behind me so my body now resembled a piece of wood. I kept the pose, feeling relief radiate throughout my body. I inhaled and exhaled slowly, but my breath only contracted when I heard her syrupy sweet voice ringing behind me.
“I like you in that position, babe,” my girlfriend, Celeste, purred. I brought my feet in and spun around to face the gray stairs that supported the blonde haired girl.
I forced myself to smile. “I figured as much.” I watched as a redheaded girl trailed behind Celeste, stopping a few stairs up from her. It was Tatum, my best friend’s sister.
Tatum rolled her eyes at Celeste, who was creeping across the ice, trying to get over to me. “Don’t bust your ass!” Tatum yelled sarcastically. I smiled up at her, this attitude was one of the many reasons I enjoyed her company.
Celeste giggled. “Even if I do Malak will catch me,” she slid over to me and crashed into my chest. I wrapped my arms around her, my fingers toying with the pink ruffles of her blouse. Her slim arms snaked around my waist, and she squeezed. I squirmed, regaining my balance already tampered by the skates.
“Careful now.” Celeste pulled away at the sound of my best friend’s voice. “I don’t want you to break him.” Sayer had a smirk on his face as Celeste raised an eyebrow.
I let out a chuckle and skated over to the side of the rink with the stairs. “That didn’t sound gay at all, Sayer,” I told him sarcastically.
Tatum and Sayer traipsed down the remaining stairs to stand in front of me. Sayer blinked a few times before raising his tanned hand and flicking me in the forehead. Tatum let out a laugh as my hand went up to it and I let out a whimper.
“Yeah, and that wasn’t?” Sayer raised a brown eyebrow, a glint in his yellow eyes, and a smirk still plastered on his angular face.
“Asshole,” I gave him the finger.
“Anyway,” drawled Tatum, “How’s the routine going?”
“Pretty good. I’ve only been close to breaking a bone,” I informed her, nodding slightly.
Tatum shook her head at me. “Are you reckless or clumsy?”
“Hm…” I thought this over for a moment. “Careless,” I said decidedly.
“You’ve that right,” Sayer looked me up and down, a slight catch in his smooth voice.
I gave him a sharp glare, warning him. But broke from the intense gaze when I heard a scream and oof. Celeste lay sprawled out on the ice. Her green eyes flashed up at me and she showed a sheepish smile.
“Help?” Celeste giggled. I sighed mentally and slid over to her. I lifted her up bridal style and took her over the concrete steps. I sat her down, and then her soft, pink lips met mine. I broke the kiss rather quickly, my face feeling flushed.
“Go get dressed,” Tatum took my arm and pulled me away from Celeste. “I don’t want to be late.”
“Where are you going?” I asked with an eyebrow raised.
“We,” she emphasized, “Are going to Espen’s party.”
“We?” I asked incredulously.
“Yes, we,” Sayer gave me a stern look, as if he wouldn’t put up with the protest he knew was coming.
“I don’t wanna go!” I whined with a vain hope they would actually give and let me stay home.
“Why not? It’s just Espen’s, it’s not like you’ll get lost,” Celeste said, chewing on gum that gave off a minty odor.
“It’s not getting lost I’m worried about,” I muttered bitterly.
Tatum-who seemed to have heard me-responded irritated. “Then what are you worried about?”
“I’m not worried about anything,” I tried to keep the venom from entering my voice.
“Then what’s the problem?” Tatum’s fists rested on her hips.
“I don’t want to go,” I said stubbornly even though I knew she was no match for me.
I heard Sayer sigh, but before I could turn to face him, he had his warm arms around my waist, lifting me up. I struggled uselessly in his tight grip. “Oh, you’re going.”
“Put me down!” I yelled as he carried me over to the changing rooms.
“No.” I looked up at his face, only to find a triumphant smile glued there. I gritted my teeth, Sayer may be my best friend, but that didn’t mean he never pissed me off. In fact, he did it quite frequently.
He opened the door of the dressing room, and stepped inside. I huffed when he sat me down on one of the benches. “Well?” I raised my eyebrows, waiting for him to leave.
Sayer crossed his arms over his chest. “You know, if I didn’t know you any better, I would swear you refused to go just for attention. So you could watch people beg you,” he said as he leaned against the cream-colored wall.
My eyes narrowed, not wanting to bring up the subject. “You’re still taking them, right?” Sayer asked referring to my anti-depressants. I’d been taking them for a while now, and often stopped taking them, much to Sayer’s disapproval.
“Yes, I am, so don’t worry about it,” I snapped at him.
“I just don’t want a repeat of last time,” Sayer said in a calm, quiet voice, so different from his normal one.
I sighed and let my eyelids drift closed. The last time I stopped taking the medication, I let myself get bad. I got to the point of attempting suicide. I sat myself on fire; it burned about halfway up my legs before Sayer-of all people-walked in. He watched me for a moment, then took the fire extinguisher out from under the garage cabinet, and hosed me down. After, he yelled at me. Ever since then, he’s been making sure I’m doing well. “It won’t happen again,” I promised him.
“Good, now get dressed,” Sayer, commanded me.
“I don’t want to go,” I told him firmly.
“That’s funny,” he pointed at me with a grin, “You actually think arguing is going to convince me otherwise.”
I glared at him pointedly. “I’m glad I amuse you.”
“Me too,” Sayer agreed, standing from the wooden bench. He bent to pick up my discarded jeans, and then threw them at me. They hit my lap and my hands rested on top of them. “Hurry up, before I call Espen and insist on rigging one of our drunken games so you and Celeste end up banging.”
He grinned widely, deviously, at me. I groaned and stripped out of the black, feathered suit Tatum made for me. She was studying clothing design at the college we attended. Sayer studied art, and I was a psychology and writing student. Of course, these two things had nothing to do with my profession.
I slipped on the jeans and shrugged on my worn, black shirt. I turned back to Sayer whom of which wore a look of disapproval. He shook his head.
“We’ll go by the house first. You are not showing up in that,” Sayer gathered my things and we strode from the dressing room to the steps that Celeste and Tatum stood.
“Ready, babe?” Celeste asked chirpily as she took my arm. She clung to it uncomfortably as I started up the steps, going in front of Sayer and Tatum. The sounds of my sneakers hitting on the concrete echoed in the large, empty room.
We exited the building and found ourselves in the parking lot. I headed straight for Sayer’s black Mercedes. I stopped at the back of the car, waiting for it to be unlocked. Sayer hit the button and slid into the driver’s seat. I followed suit, and rested my back against the interior. Celeste sat beside me and Tatum in the front next to her brother.
I could hear the soft murmurs of the siblings talking, I knew they were trying to keep their voices low, any other time I would’ve heard them. I figured they were speaking of me, and their concerns. That was their problem though, and not my business. Therefore, I let my eyelids drift closed, trying to tune out the sound of Celeste chomping on her gum, before I strangled her.
My irritability had been running high the past few weeks, yet I couldn’t find the reason why. Maybe I needed to switch medications once again. Maybe I’d been diagnosed wrong…No, it wasn’t that. I found myself lucky enough to have a genius, Russian psychologist, whom of which was willing to meet me in London-my parent’s hometown.
I lived in the states, but I went back over occasionally when Dr. Demidov needed to see me, or Sayer’s parents-who also lived in London-wanted their kids to pay a visit. Normally, Sayer, Tatum, and I went two or three times a year, not including the appointments.
“Out.” I looked over, startled. We were parked outside our house, and Sayer stood with the door held open, waiting for me to get out. His yellowed eyes looked out at the road as I stepped out, Tatum and Celeste following.
We entered the house, only to find Nia and Shayde on the leather couch. They boredly drank from their beer bottles, barely sparing us a glance as we entered. Sayer went over and plopped down by Nia-who was his girlfriend for all of four years. Tatum took a seat by Shayde-who’d been crushing on her for some time now.
An arm snaked around Nia’s slim shoulders, Tatum glaring viciously at Sayer.
I regarded them thoughtfully for a moment before speaking decidedly. “I’m now starting to feel happy about being an only child.” I left the room, ignoring the roar of replies following behind.
I went into my room, clothes scattered among the floor, and dust beginning to pile up on the wooden dresser. I sighed, for once acknowledging the fact I needed to clean up the room. I shook my head, promising myself to do it later. I leapt over a few clothing mountains, over to my clothes-filled closet.
I pulled open the door roughly. I scanned the choices lined up before me, and weighed my decisions carefully. Sure I may have had a girlfriend, and not wanting to go, but that didn’t mean I was going to look bad.
I bit my lip and decided on a pair of black jeans with a matching button-up shirt. Casual enough, but still gave me some class. I pulled off my other clothes, and swapped them with the new. I finished up the buttons on my shirt as I exited my room, going back to the main one.
Everyone sat on the couch, liquor in all hands. I felt shocked no one had thought to get handsy before we left. It could be a while until the privacy option came about. No one seemed bothered by this though, as they sat nonchalantly.
“Much better,” Sayer noted while nodding his head. He stood and came over to me, handing me the car keys. “You’re driving there, because I really don’t plan on coming back tonight.”
I shook my head as I walked toward the door, able to smell the whiskey on his breath after only a moment. “Alright.” I checked behind me, and sure enough, they all followed me out to the car.
I stepped in and started it up. I began to back out of the driveway.
“To Espen’s!” Tatum yelled pointing, then began to laugh at herself madly. I wondered of her sanity for a moment before dismissing it with a shake of the head and continuing on to Espen’s house.
I loved to write songs. These beautiful poems of love, heartbreak, life and misery. I still do. Shame they'll never reach the world as I hoped.
But, life is life and death is well, death. I wish I could still play with Eyes Of The Wolf, my old band. I remember the lullaby I wrote for Jannet when she had nightmares.
'Prr, Prr
Of the Cat on the mat so peaceful
Cheep, Cheep
Of the Bird in the garden so alive
Neigh, Neigh
Of the Horse on the racecourse so swift
Woof, Woof
Of the Pup in the tulips so playful
But now please my dear Jannet rest
So tomorrow you take life's next test'
I still sing it to her every night. But she can't hear me now. Maybe i'm just not singing loud enough. Sometimes she hears me sing a few lines. I know because sometimes when I sing she'll start crying. I don't know why. Maybe she misses me. Or maybe I scare her. I don't know. The world is a very strange place
But, life is life and death is well, death. I wish I could still play with Eyes Of The Wolf, my old band. I remember the lullaby I wrote for Jannet when she had nightmares.
'Prr, Prr
Of the Cat on the mat so peaceful
Cheep, Cheep
Of the Bird in the garden so alive
Neigh, Neigh
Of the Horse on the racecourse so swift
Woof, Woof
Of the Pup in the tulips so playful
But now please my dear Jannet rest
So tomorrow you take life's next test'
I still sing it to her every night. But she can't hear me now. Maybe i'm just not singing loud enough. Sometimes she hears me sing a few lines. I know because sometimes when I sing she'll start crying. I don't know why. Maybe she misses me. Or maybe I scare her. I don't know. The world is a very strange place
This is a song inspired by Anastasia's Once Upon a December. Also, it's the main song for my novel-in-progress, Imaginary. It's a song in which one of the main characters sings to cheer her up when she's scared. And once I finally get the story posted here, you'll actually see the depth and power and horror of the song.
Written by a friend of mine from school.
Midnight settles, darkness falls
Close your eyes and remember
Fallen angels always sing
Once upon a December
Blood is flowing and it's warm,
Life's nightmares are like a storm
Demons dancing gracefully
across my memory
Broken butterflies with torn wings
The pain they will always remember
Fallen angels, I hear them sing
Once upon a December.
Written by a friend of mine from school.
Midnight settles, darkness falls
Close your eyes and remember
Fallen angels always sing
Once upon a December
Blood is flowing and it's warm,
Life's nightmares are like a storm
Demons dancing gracefully
across my memory
Broken butterflies with torn wings
The pain they will always remember
Fallen angels, I hear them sing
Once upon a December.
Scraping at the boughs,
Unknowns becomeths known,
Where shards break across my skin as my mind is shredded into nothing.
How did I get here?
How did I become this?
How do I get out?
Trapped inside a thousand mirrors,
Seeing so many façades,
Which one is me?
Carved up and bleeding,
Happy unconscious,
Pepped up to go?
Nails scratch into my brain,
As I pick apart memories,
For a clue.
An inkling.
An idea.
Lost!
I’m so lost!
Where do I fit in anymore?
Who am I?
And how did I wind up here?
Unknowns becomeths known,
Where shards break across my skin as my mind is shredded into nothing.
How did I get here?
How did I become this?
How do I get out?
Trapped inside a thousand mirrors,
Seeing so many façades,
Which one is me?
Carved up and bleeding,
Happy unconscious,
Pepped up to go?
Nails scratch into my brain,
As I pick apart memories,
For a clue.
An inkling.
An idea.
Lost!
I’m so lost!
Where do I fit in anymore?
Who am I?
And how did I wind up here?
I slammed the car door shut, and faced the school.
"Have a good day sweetie," Mom said, somewhat hopefully from the drivers seat. Just the words made me want to ball up and cry. She drove away, leaving me in the dust. I would not survive this day.
Not that I deserve to.
I clutched my books to my chest, and tried to keep my eyes fixed on the ground. But I still felt their eyes on me.
"Bitch," they muttered.
"She deserves to die," others said. Didn't they know I want to? Didn't they know how much strength it took to keep breathing? And when I did, it was the everlasting pain that nearly brought me to my death. But I could only hope.
But they didn't know this. They just knew it was my fault. And it was. It was all my fault for what had happened.
And I'd live with this guilt till I die.
*****************************
Please let me know if I should continue this; I don't know if I should.
"Have a good day sweetie," Mom said, somewhat hopefully from the drivers seat. Just the words made me want to ball up and cry. She drove away, leaving me in the dust. I would not survive this day.
Not that I deserve to.
I clutched my books to my chest, and tried to keep my eyes fixed on the ground. But I still felt their eyes on me.
"Bitch," they muttered.
"She deserves to die," others said. Didn't they know I want to? Didn't they know how much strength it took to keep breathing? And when I did, it was the everlasting pain that nearly brought me to my death. But I could only hope.
But they didn't know this. They just knew it was my fault. And it was. It was all my fault for what had happened.
And I'd live with this guilt till I die.
*****************************
Please let me know if I should continue this; I don't know if I should.
I need to find a name for my character. She is a twelve year old girl with short, kinda boyish blonde hair. She has a curious and Mischievous personality and a tomboyish attitude. She loves Music, she plays Piano and Guitar and can play the Saxaphone really well. She is also very good in school. She has green eyes and likes to draw and write. Her main flaw is when she makes mistakes she has trouble realising that she is only human, and humans make mistakes. I am trying to find a good name but I am having a lot of trouble. Please help!
Introduction
Everybody has a friend. Someone to talk to, to share your secrets with. Someone in this cold cruel world that you could trust. A friend doesn't exactly have to be a person. It could be a pet, a journal-sometimes a banana-or even a rock. A friend doesn't have to be real, either. A character from a story or movie, perhaps? But that's still something everyone can look at, hear, or feel. Well, some of those make-believe friends, not actors, are things only you can look at, hear, and feel. Now those are called imaginary friends, as you probably know. Imaginary friends can be anything you want them to be. An animal, a creature you made up, a monster, or just another human being. There are rare cases when special people have imaginary friends that...are not exactly in the afterlife. But, no matter what, whatever kind of friend it is, that one true friend will always be there for you.
Always.
Always.
Always...
Everybody has a friend. Someone to talk to, to share your secrets with. Someone in this cold cruel world that you could trust. A friend doesn't exactly have to be a person. It could be a pet, a journal-sometimes a banana-or even a rock. A friend doesn't have to be real, either. A character from a story or movie, perhaps? But that's still something everyone can look at, hear, or feel. Well, some of those make-believe friends, not actors, are things only you can look at, hear, and feel. Now those are called imaginary friends, as you probably know. Imaginary friends can be anything you want them to be. An animal, a creature you made up, a monster, or just another human being. There are rare cases when special people have imaginary friends that...are not exactly in the afterlife. But, no matter what, whatever kind of friend it is, that one true friend will always be there for you.
Always.
Always.
Always...
Coming soon, I promise. :):):):):)::):))::):)):):):):):):):):):):)):):):):)::)):):):):):):)::):):)):):):):):):):):):)):):)::))::):):))::):):):):)):)::):))))))))))))))):):):):):):)):):):):):):)::)):):):):)::)):):):::):)):):):):))::):):):)):XPXPXPXPXPXPXPXPXPXPXXPXPXPXPPXXP:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D::D:D:D:D:D:D::D:DD::DDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD :DDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD