tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-54661203031558628352024-03-04T23:05:15.220-08:00A Twisted Vision, A Tired Mindcupcakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08521399676517388209noreply@blogger.comBlogger204125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5466120303155862835.post-37911045441440576812013-08-24T10:52:00.002-07:002013-08-24T10:52:54.722-07:00The Meringue Rainbowcy~A Legacy Gone Technicolor Chapter 16 Generation Starry<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Have you ever had a dream where you don’t remember how
exactly it begun but you got the feeling that you had just missed something
important? I don’t know how the dream started or if it had been going along
this whole time. I found myself in the middle of a conversation with
Sanguinello as we sat on the roof of what appeared to be his Aunt’s house like
we had so many years ago. It was night time and the stars were bright. The
skyline of the city was full in charm and allure just looking at it made you
feel like you had a chance to make it. But what lay hidden underneath all those
lights was the dark underbelly where broken dreams and hope fell from the
lights like shooting stars from the sky. It was there I knew my existence was.
No longer one of the ones full of hope, that time had passed me by what felt
like ages ago. And now like some sick parasite it was on to another
unsuspecting youth with the stars in their eyes that I had lost from the grim
taste of reality. This was all just a dream, one bitter dream. But for me the
moment it really started was when he casually just turned his head to me and
said “I’m not the one.” <o:p></o:p></div>
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“You’re not the one what Sanguinello? And why the fudge are
we here of all places? Couldn’t we have been at a sunny field of flowers,
perhaps a meadow, somewhere with a beautiful vista or something in this dream?”
I started out sarcastically but ended in a question of my surroundings as my
mind quickly caught up with us. “I’ve never been one to do things the way other
have before me, you’ve known that. And there are rules one has to follow even
in death. I can’t see you in a pure dream so right now we exist in a memory,
one of my happier ones of us but it is one of your memories. Do you remember
it? It was the second time you had visited here, the first being when you had
found the pills that I hadn’t packed away just yet from when I had taken them
earlier. We were sitting up here while eating the ice-cream that we pillaged
from my Aunt’s freezer. You had only pajama shorts and a shirt on and I only
had my pajama pants on and together we sat right here with you leaning against
me and my arms around you trying to eat that ice-cream still even though we
were both pretty much freezing. It was the first moment that I realized how
much I cared about you, how much I loved you and that you actually loved me in
return. I remember feeling so safe and secure that you had found out my secret
and that you still liked me and you still wanted to be with me.” <o:p></o:p></div>
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“You know when you are dead things are revealed to you.
Things that would have really been helpful to know when I was alive. I see you
struggle every day because of me. And there is so much I need to tell you right
now but I can’t. I’m not even supposed to visit you that’s why we are in a
memory and not a real dream. Had we been in a dream it could have been any
place you wanted it to be. But I had to see you tonight before it happens and
so I used one of her loopholes. You have a very smart ancestor that just knows
how to get around these sort of things. But that is not what I am here
about. I just wanted you to know that
I’m not the one. You know the one that everyone has. I was never yours, I never
had one. But I’d like to think that I did when I was alive and it was you.”
Sanguinello replied as the words came out of his mouth slower and slower, by
the time he finished there was almost a painful pause in between each one. With
that he looked away ago trying to fixate his gaze on something besides myself,
a telltale sign that he was lying right through his teeth. <o:p></o:p></div>
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“If you’re not the one than who is?” I asked him
sarcastically as I hide my emotions behind and old standby, making a joke out
of everything so it didn’t seem so real or like it was happening to someone
else and not me. This whole conversation pissed me off. Here I was talking
about soul mates and comsic loopholes with my dead husband ever so casually.
Reluctantly he said after a quiet moment as he took his time to adjust the
buckles of his shirt a few times as he stalled “You’ve met him once already and
like me you scared him away at first. Time and life have taken you far from
each other but one day when you wake up without all the pain in your heart that
I’ve caused you will be the day that you’ll meet him again.” <o:p></o:p></div>
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“Shouldn’t you be ending your sage advice with young
grasshopper or padawan?” I asked him still sarcastically hoping that it would
convey a warning of my anger that was about to boil over. I had gotten over and
accept the facts of my life so why was he here? “Maybe if you were green but
I’m just a pink elephant what do I know?” He said trying to make light of
everything that had happened but it was a forced lightness that was full of
bitterness as I watched him figuratively choke down that pill he swallowed. But
there was nothing of it that I enjoyed nor any of it that made me feel better
to know that he was suffering right alongside of me “Do you know that I am
pregnant? You left me pregnant and alone when you died.”</div>
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“Neither of us knew when I was alive that you were. Maybe if
I did things would have been different for a while, I don’t know. The only
thing that I do know is that this was always my fate since the day I was born
this was going to be my ending. There was never any way of escaping it
completely. But I have met Phoenix and I would have been proud to have been his
father.” Sanguinello answered truthfully. That burning question of had he known
that I had often wondered at night was finally answered. Some simple part of me
had hoped that he would have said yes but the realist in me had always known
that the answer would be something along those lines. We sat in silence for a
moment before I broke it with an observation “You sound so calm and sage with
everything.”</div>
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“I am calm now but never completely at ease. I thought I
escaped one pain but I only traded it for another. Please know that I never meant to hurt you”
Sanguinello looked away distracted for a moment as if someone was talking to
him. His eyes searching in front of us seeing something or someone I couldn’t.
Whatever he knew he wasn’t sharing, not at that moment. For now I could
practically see in his mind him prioritizing things, things that he needed to
tell me and things that could always wait. Weighing out emotions against reason
to see what was the stronger of the two. We were both on the verge on breaking
as our time was being cut short. Sanguinello looked me right in the eyes as he
began to speak “I don’t have much more time here but promise me that you’ll…?” <o:p></o:p></div>
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“I don’t have to promise you anything! You left me in the
worst way Sanguinello. How could you do that to me? How could you? And then
you’re here babbling on about how you were never the one for me? That’s a
fudging lie and you know it. If I was ever to have such a ridiculous thing as a
soul mate it would have been you. Not someone that I apparently told off at one
point or another. You’re such a berryhole Sanguinello. Fudge you, seriously
fudge you.” I cried angrily as I sound found myself trying to hit him. “How
could you do this to me!?! How? I loved you more than anything and anyone and I
gave you everything and… and now you’re gone… Forever. I’ll never see you again
and neither will our child. How could you do this to us?” <o:p></o:p></div>
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I don’t know how I ended up in his arms, the last place I
wanted to be but I did. Anger and hurt radiated through my body as it trembled
and I cried into his chest. I felt the tips of his fingers starting up at my
crown and trailing their way down to my back slowly as I heard in between
broken words the sound of muffled crying. Pulling away I looked up into his
face to see tears trailing down his face as he looked me straight in the eyes,
reminding me so much of the day I first saw him. “I’m sorry Starry. I’m so
sorry… I never meant to hurt you. I can finally be the kind of guy that you
deserved and I always wanted to be for you and I can’t even be with you.
Instead I get to watch you fall in love with someone that is just about as
broken as I made you and spend the rest of your life with him, happily. I’m
finally at peace with everything that has ever gone on in my head and my life
but I don’t have you and it causes me more pain than everything combined when I
was alive. Starry I messed up so badly, I really fudged up. I miss you so much,
it’s only been a few months but I can’t take being away from you for the rest
of a lifetime but there is not thing else that I can do besides wait for you.
I’d take it all back if I could just to be back there with you and our son.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Go.” I said coldly to him as he tried to cling to me
pulling me back to him, his warm embrace while he continued to apologize. I
wanted nothing but to let his arms surround me again and feel the way I did
when he held me before but I couldn't shake my anger, my rage of how much he
had hurt me, his aunt and everyone that has ever loved or cared about him in
his final act. “Go get out of here! Don’t you hear me Sanguinello? Go! I don’t
want to see you, not now not ever again. Don’t wait for me because I will never
be there. Will you just go?” I screamed horribly at him my anger taking over
hand in hand with every other emotion that surfaced though the heartbreaking
pain I felt in my chest fought harder to be closest to it. And then he was gone
like I had asked. He was gone for good never to be seen, not now and never
again by my eyes. It was like losing him all over again. Everything I felt when
I found out about his death resonated through me once again as I screamed in
anguish calling out his name, begging for him to come back as the ground and
everything shook violently while something else stopped me dead in my tracks. <o:p></o:p></div>
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It was a sound that almost mimicked fabric being ripped
apart but much more terrible as it echoed throughout the cityscape I looked up
to see the sky being torn from the ground exposing a thick ribbon in between
them that looked like a mirrored version of the city, but only a faded one that
lacked the vibrancy I knew so well throughout my life. The shaking continued as
his Aunt’s house swayed along with the buildings in downtown Briocheporte. From
that ribbon a strange and almost colorless land a fading darkness began to
quickly spread through the city only leaving dark and bland silhouettes of what
once was there a moment ago. Scrambling backwards across the rough roof quickly
paying no attention to the ripping of my knitted socks as a stitch caught on it
or the scuffing of my shoes as they scrapped along, there appeared to be no
exit for me as I found my back pressed up against the wrought iron that trimmed
Aunt Fina’s roof. <o:p></o:p></div>
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As the darkness spread I screamed in terror before I felt
someone grabbing me from behind pulling me over the edge and that’s when I woke
up. Or at least I thought I did. The sun was bright like the start of a new day
as it poured all around me. There was softness under me but it was not my bed.
In fact I wasn't even in my room. As I sat up and glanced around at my
surroundings I could see that I was in the field of flowers that I had
mentioned before. But instead of a rainbow of flowers they only had two colors.
To any random person these shades might have looked alike but to my painter’s
eyes I saw two very distinct ones, turquoise and teal. While I took all of this
in I soon began to realize that the heavy breathing I was hearing was not my
own. Looking down and to my side I was shocked to Sanguinello gasping on my
side his face looked strangely sun burnt and redden. Looking up at me in between
breaths as he gasped all he said over and over again was “I’m sorry” Stupidly I
asked him the first thing that popped into my mind instead of what the fudge
was that? Or really anything logical I went for the emotional response making
myself even more surprised than I already was “Why didn't you come back when I
called you?” <o:p></o:p></div>
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“Because you were right and I was ashamed. If I could go
back in time I wouldn't have done what I did. I’d give eternity of peace just
to be able to touch you again and be a father to our son. When I heard you
scream everything went out of my mind and I just needed to save you even though
I should have realized that you would have just woken up. I broke about every
rule pulling you out of it and being here in this field of dreams, but right
now I really don’t care. Starry it’s starting. You need to know this please I
hope to berry that you’ll remember this when you wake up. But there has been
something in motion from before we were born and even our parents and their
parents. Phoenix is nothing like me. Whatever you do accept him for what he is
and don’t try to fix him. He is the answer for my family and will put an end to
this madness. But you can’t take away the voice without it the connection is
lost and so is everything until the next one is born. I can’t be here any
longer even with their help we are both fading from here and you awake soon.
Starry I love you but you have to wake up. Wake up right now. Wake…” <o:p></o:p></div>
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Pain coursed through my body in waves that seemed barely
apart from one and another. Struggling to get up I felt a significant gush of
fluid break free from my body. Oh no, this is not good, not good at all. I
thought as I frantically called for my parents while clutching my stomach as I
tried to steady myself against the rolling pain I felt once again. Everything
of my dream that remained with me melted away except for a name, Phoenix. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Phoenix Lychee Meringue was what my son’s name became. When
I held him for the first time and said “Hello Phoenix.” It was like a piece of
a puzzle sliding snugly in to place the way it just clicked. I may not have
had much faith in anything but Phoenix; my Phoenix made it hard to think that
was not some driving force that directed our fates.<o:p></o:p></div>
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cupcakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08521399676517388209noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5466120303155862835.post-34005194463032997892013-06-25T23:27:00.001-07:002013-06-26T01:23:36.147-07:00The Meringue Rainbowcy-A Legacy Gone Technicolor Generation Starry Chapter 15 Part 2<div class="MsoNormal">
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My nausea returned in small spurts here and there before it
disappeared completely. But I just dismissed it as easily as I did with
everything else that was happening lately. I hadn't been eating exactly
normally after his death so I just easily chalked it up to that. However the
one thing that I couldn't dismiss was the growing of my stomach. Before I had
always been naturally skinny but now, now everything seemed too tight and my
once flat stomach was sporting a round chubbiness that I had never known
before. I knew it could be one of two things. I was either pregnant or had some
sort of tumor. Though I knew the latter was unlikely but the hospital shows
that I now had begun to watch religiously on my parents couch made me think
otherwise. I was hoping no praying for the otherwise, that it would be
something horrible but not as devastating as being pregnant after all of this.
Anything, anything but being pregnant would just about suffice me. I couldn't
be, not now, not with him gone. How could I raise our child without him? In the
back of my mind I could name off a handful of singles mothers but none of them
were in the same spot I was. If I was pregnant how would I ever be able to explain
to our child about what happened to their father?<o:p></o:p><br />
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If I was then I knew I couldn't put off making an
appointment much longer. If I could already see a difference in my body then I
had to be a little bit along ways. And even though I wasn't exactly please with
what might be I still had to do something about it. So I made an appointment,
which only confirmed my second worst fear. I was pregnant. Even though I had
thought that I was pregnant, contemplated pregnancy, entertained the wild idea
of me being a mother and eventually figured that I might very well be pregnant,
just hearing it out loud took the breath out of my and left me in a momentarily
stunned silence. “Are you sure?” I asked, questioned the doctor for the third
time when I finally found my voice again. “Yes! You’re going to be a mommy!”
She exclaimed with an answer as she evidently looked past my reaction and
demeanor into thinking that I wanted this, as if this could be something that I
wanted. How could anyone even think that I would want something like this? Yes logically
I was at that age where girls were usually married and having their first child
but this wasn't right. But this whole situation was so wrong, so very, very
wrong. Here I was being the receiver of the second worst new of my life and in
a tacky green and white room filled with posters of joyous mothers and their offspring. <o:p></o:p><br />
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“But I can’t be pregnant. I’m on the pill.” I stupidly tried
to argue as if this was something that could be won through a debate. But she
just shook her head as she laughed with a smile that brimmed with joy that I
was lacking. “But you are! The pill is so effect and that’s if you take it as
you are supposed to. IF you don’t then its effectiveness is reduced
drastically. Now we can schedule you for an ultrasound tomorrow since we are
just about full up today. Just about everyone is having a baby this season.
Probably dues to all the rain we got last season. But we do need to see exactly
how far along you are since you already have such a cute itty bitty little baby
bump. Of course I will be writing you a prescription for prenatal vitamins that
you’ll have to start taking every day starting immediately as in today. And
then…” <o:p></o:p><br />
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“No! I cannot be pregnant! You don’t fudging understand. My
husband is dead! As in he died like a flippin’ month ago. So how can I have a
piece of him living inside of me when he is dead? So no I can’t be pregnant! I
mean don’t even own a car! ” I asserted quite possibly irrationally but very
loudly as my voice echoed off the walls of the examination room. The once
joyful posters now seemed to jeer at me and my discomfort. They mocked me with
their happiness. They probably had their husbands living all fine and dandy,
together as one big happy family. “I’m sorry I didn't know.” The doctor
stammered as she verbally began to trip over her words. “Just leave me alone!”
I yelled at her not even seeing her anymore or any of my surroundings. She
quietly left although I barely even noticed as I fumbled to get dressed quickly.
With each article of clothing that I put on a new sob bolted from my mouth. As
soon as I was decent enough I ran out of there fleeing the hospital as if I
could out run the news that I was just given. I didn't know where I was going
but I was going somewhere fast, taking turns and exits subconsciously my
mother’s car was soon speeding down a freeway.<o:p></o:p></div>
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But I found myself in Briocheport heading toward the place
that Sanguinello and I had what felt like ages ago called home. The one place
that I had never wanted to ever be again where it happened. The sky that had
looked like it was on the verge of raining decided to open up and let it pour
down hard as if was urging me to stay away though like everything I was going
to meet this head on, there was no more avoiding it. So I drove on letting it caused
me no concern or hindering me in anyway. The soft sound of the windshield
wipers swooshing across the glass while rain pounded down on the metal roof of
the car filled the emptiness of my mother’s car. Like a woman on a mission I
couldn't be deterred. I went there for the first time since I had left him
against my better judgment that night. I was breathless and out of air by the time I hurried up to
our apartment. Shoving the key in the door I didn't even stop to it out after I
unlocked it. It was dark for a moment but lightening briefly illuminated the
room before a loud crash of thunder followed. A memory of our first
thunderstorm all the way up on the 17th floor struggled to rise from the depths
of my mind but I pushed it back down with vigor of girl that’s had just about
all that she could take in a lifetime when hers wasn't even halfway up. All
traces of our life together seemed to be wiped clean from the apartment. Feeling
confused I looked around thinking silly that we had been robbed but knowing
that, that wasn't true.</div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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All of our possessions were gone now and boxed up neatly in
my parent’s basement. But still the sight of the now barren apartment was the
only thing that could make me pause momentarily before I crossed the living
room and flung myself out the balcony door. I headed right to the spot that he
must have stood at that night, raising my face up to the clouded night as the
rain fell down upon me, I shouted as loudly as I could one single word. A word
that wasn't only meant for Sanguinello but it was more so meant for the story
of my life, every struggle, every pain, every time I felt lonely and wondered
what was wrong with me. I let it out letting it roar loudly up from inside of
me feeling the very sound of one so seemingly insignificant word tear up my
throat so loudly as I gripped my hands on the thick wet slippery glass. <o:p></o:p><br />
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“Why?” <o:p></o:p></div>
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And just like that I was brought to my knees.<br />
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All the
adrenaline rushed out of my body as quickly as it had come, I was left with was
what was now identified as pregnancy hormones. Soaked to my core my clothes
clung to my cold body I sat there crying my eyes out and for a moment I kidded
myself when I thought I saw him or at least something pink in my blurry vision. But with a blink of an eye as I
squinted through the rain being pelted down on me and the flash of lighting it
was gone and I instantly doubted where I had even seen anything at all.<o:p></o:p><br />
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It was late when I got home. I was still drenched to the
bone the car ride with heat on and all the vents blowing on me did not thing to
help with that. Both my parents were asleep and the house was silent. It was
the first night that I found myself just as quietly slipping off to sleep. And
it was also the first night that I had no dreams. <o:p></o:p><br />
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The next morning I stared down my reflection in the
bathroom, looking hard at my stomach trying to make some sense once again of
the card I had been dealt yesterday. Pregnant? There is no fudging way that
could be. I tried to image how much longer I was going to be able to stretch my
normal clothes over myself to hide my belly. Sanguinello and I were somewhat careful
about that sort of thing. Because he was very adamant about not having kids, he
never believed that he could ever be a proper father with his condition nor did
he ever want to burden a child with the possibility of inheriting it. Plus I
never wanted to have a child anyway. I wasn't cut out for this mommy stuff nor
did I have my saint of a mother’s patience. Oh berry. I thought to myself
remember all the times that I've lost my temper or told some random person off.
I’m going to be the worst mother out there. Random days started to come back to me days where my
forgetfulness consumed me or I found myself running late again as I told myself
that I’d just take it when I got home later before I made a mad dash out the
door. I cursed under my breath as I realized this was all on my own doing. I
was an idiot for thinking I could handle just having to take a pill at the same
time every day. I should have known that I would have forgotten or something
and went for another option. <i>Berry one of us should have gotten snipped</i></div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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Sanguinello was my first and only love. He was my first
kiss, first boyfriend, first to make my heart skip a beat, my first everything.
Pausing with my clothes in my hand as I was readying myself for another day I
found it impossible to put them on again. I won’t say that not having it didn't
cross my mind but in the end at this stage with me starting to show and
everything I don’t think I could have done it in the end. That thought of even
having to explain doing that to my mother was enough to wipe away any chance at
that happening. So I accepted it. I was going to be a mother. I was going to
try my hardest not to mess this child up but at the same time I mentally made a
note to start saving up money for psychiatrist in case I did.<o:p></o:p></div>
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So into the trash my clothes went momentarily where they
remained for a few minutes as time slipped by slowly and almost lazily. Sitting
sadly in the litter basket looking as if they were discarded without any
thought and maybe for a second they were. But each minute crept by was like an
eternity until I retrieved them. I couldn’t just throw them away like this.
Each little stitch of fabric seemed to hold a memory hidden and tucked away in
every identical little folds of the thread where they intertwined. My fingers
dotingly smoothed out the knitted top making sure that it was folded nicely
before moving on to the shorts. It was almost ceremonious with each turn the
cloth took as I overlapped the fabric. It felt like I was saying goodbye to a
past life or an old friend as I tucked the tights and socks in-between the two
and laid the whole outfit into a box that was under my bed who’s holdings once
consisted of art supplies though now in the years that had passed was all but
devoid of them save for a few dried up things of paint and some old brushes.
Now its new job was to be a safe place for those few precious articles of
clothing, remaining hidden once again but this time stashed away in the depths
of my closet with all those memories where no one could hurt them. It was time
to grow up. I thought to myself as I grabbed the baggiest and loose fitting
outfit I could find as I prepared myself to not only conceded to the fact that
I was going to be a mother but also share that information with my family right
now and then possibly enter in one of those maternity shops. I was conquering
mountains today.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“So I’m pregnant.” I casually announced hoping that no one
would act like anything was out of the ordinary. Nothing to see here just a
pregnant widow, move it along people. I mentally visualized myself telling them
all to do. As if any of them would ever really listen.<o:p></o:p><br />
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“How did that happen?” My father asked while my sister
Wisteria unsuccessfully stifled a chuckle. What the fudge was she doing here
anyway? She’s married with a kid; she should be at her own home. I irately
thought as I shot her an annoyed look which she just rolled her eyes at. Dressed smartly from head to toe in jewel tones the corporate world suited her much better than the life of a stay at home mother did. And I suppressed a smile at the memory of her as one.“Well
you see dad when a man and a women love each other they want to often express
that love in a way…” She started to say be before he gruffly interrupted er with
a darkening face that had the etching of a life that went haywire somewhere
along the way “Yes I know that. Believe me with 5 kids of my own, I very well
know that! But she haven’t dated anyone since Sanguinello…” <o:p></o:p><br />
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“That’s because it is Sanguinello’s dad, I must have been
pregnant a few weeks along before he…” <o:p></o:p></div>
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“Oh my sweet, sweet Berry…” My mother gasped in realization that I was
carrying my dead suicidal husband’s child. I only hoped the multiple genes
skips me because as much as I was trying to handle having a child by myself
without Sanguinello ever being able to be there, I wasn't sure if I could
handle more than one. But my father though momentarily stunned by this new was
quick on his feet and recovered smoothly.<o:p></o:p><br />
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“Starry we and I think I can speak for your mother, think
you should stay here until after the baby is born at the very least. Please
stay here as long as you want or at least now let us help support you if you do
go back.” My father offered and as soon as he finished my mother spoke up
suggesting “We could turn Indigo’s old room into a nursery since it’s connected
to your old room where you've been staying as it is.” Staying there for at
least throughout my pregnancy seemed like a good idea, a safe idea. Hiding away
from the rest of the world at my parents’ house completely chucking out any
adult responsibility beyond growing this child in me. Yeah it seemed like the
best idea there could be. What else was I going to do go back there? Find a new
place somewhere pregnant and jobless in a new city? “Sure I’ll stay… That uh
um... that’d be nice.” <o:p></o:p><br />
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“You know in less than three years you’ll come into your trust.” My
father began to say hesitantly before he seemed think the better of it. He was
right, I had completely forgotten about the trust funds that my father had set
up for each and every one of his children to get on their thirtieth birthday.
He didn't believe that anyone was mature enough to inherit the amount that we
would before the age of thirty. Maybe he was right if we had we would have
probably been less responsible living life without a second thought and without
financial regard. We were supposed to learn how to live on our own and be able
support ourselves. Or at least that is what my father hoped for. No one really talked about it as my mother
thought that was in bad manners to discuss money matters. <o:p></o:p></div>
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As I grew and grew over the next months the question mark
that had become my life along with it. What
was I going to do? I couldn't stay with my parents forever as much as they
probably would have loved me to. Eventually I would have to leave and finally
start to rebuild my life and I could do that in three years. I could have a
life with just me and my child. Money wouldn't be that big of an issue. My
paintings were worth less than the supplies I needed to make them. But still I
could make them and attempt to sell them without going into debt. Oddly though
into my 7<sup>th</sup> month I received a phone call of a dealer wanting to
purchase a small of Sangiunello’s that he had seen in a portfolio that my late
husband had left at some gallery days before he died. But I couldn't bring myself to part with them. Every time I looked at them I saw a piece of his soul that remained here with me. It was the closest thing to a hug from him that I would ever get in this lifetime. So I declined and kept them along with everything else hoarded away as if one day he was going to come back and actually need all of his old possessions. The longer I kept them though I realized that they were not just for me but for our unborn child too. One day I hoped that he would be able to look at these to see what I see in them and to maybe forgive his father for not being able to be strong enough to continue on his battle or at least from the darker painting have some insight on the on goings of his father’s mind.</div>
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But as time kept going so did I and even though I might have
held on to a few thing I was starting to learn how to live again. By my ninth
month I wasn't completely over what happened with Sanguinello but I was
beginning to be alright again. The nursery was finished with being decorated by
the beginning of my ninth month and it laid in wait until the day that it was
finally able to be used. Dusty faded pinks and dark lavenders graced almost
every surface with hints of blue and indigo trying to make their presence known
as well. For someone that wanted to make a career out of art one could argue
that I didn't have a decorators bone in me but I think I did pretty well on
decorating the baby’s room. Everything was now ready all we had to do now was
wait for him to make his grand appearance. But simply just waiting was something he had not in in mind
and on one of my weekly doctor visits I received the news that he was breeched
and the likelihood of having a normal birth would not suffice the doctors or my
concern for my son’s safety. So a cesarean was elected quickly followed by the
choice to have my tubes tied. I wasn't going through this again, not by myself.<br />
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cupcakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08521399676517388209noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5466120303155862835.post-52212559203990041452013-02-18T10:43:00.000-08:002013-02-18T10:43:03.149-08:00The Meringue Rainbowcy~A Legacy Gone Technicolor Generation 6 Chapter 15 pt 1<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmiY4KiYPyE04c8Kfc63mBTySe11O9HofB2GgvZ9vHqqdoUorxc8PJ1VKQaVzYVWzNm3Rwv6WhpRw2S2coGCfPxemxZ4zCSvJ2JwUApUARnlAoo_Lb7kFcLbsKDuoUxkJBKPlFLuXuQTM/s1600/Siggy6.0.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="90" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmiY4KiYPyE04c8Kfc63mBTySe11O9HofB2GgvZ9vHqqdoUorxc8PJ1VKQaVzYVWzNm3Rwv6WhpRw2S2coGCfPxemxZ4zCSvJ2JwUApUARnlAoo_Lb7kFcLbsKDuoUxkJBKPlFLuXuQTM/s400/Siggy6.0.png" width="400" /></a></div>
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<b><i>I just want to say thank-you to everyone that has stuck by the Meringues through the hiatus. Hopefully now we can continue as usual. </i></b></div>
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Sitting on the bathroom floor with the cool tiles against my
face I felt another rush of nausea as I quickly pushed myself up and back
toward the toilet. Losing sum of my stomach for the second time that day there
was not a thing in the world that I’d rather do at that moment than crawl onto
the couch where I glimpsed Sanguinello on as I got ready for work. All day I
had been fighting this feeling that I just couldn't shake. Like a shadow it had
been crawling all over me creeping and crawling through my intestines to my
stomach as it latched on closer and tighter on to me. It took all my strength
just to pick myself up from the floor rather than just to lie down and let it
consume me while I thought about trying to fall into arms that only seemed to
want to push me away lately. And that only made me want to be there even so
much more. I made a mental note to call his aunt on one of my breaks with a slight
twinge of guilt. I didn't want to bother her on her honeymoon since she had
finally found and married a man that adored her. But I couldn't keep living
like this; Sanguinello couldn't keep living like this. It was time to buck up
and admit that he needed help that I couldn't give him. He was beyond my fixing
and I was beginning to feel incredibly naive for thinking that I could even do
that in the first place. I just needed everything to stay and then when she got
back everything would get better. He might hate me for doing it but I could
deal with that. I could deal with him being temporarily angry with me if it
would just make things better. <o:p></o:p></div>
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There was something in the wind that evening that made me
shiver even though it was still a warm and balmy night as I wrapped my arms
around myself to warm up a little. A feeling that I didn’t quite know exactly
what it was came over me and lingered throughout the evening. Trying to shake
it off I threw myself in to my work at the gallery but all my efforts were for
nothing. My phone battery died on the way to work so there went calling
Sanguinello on my break. I often used that time as a means to check up on him
on the pretense that I would be either telling him when I was going to be
leaving to come home or what he wanted me to pick up for dinner on my way home.
My boss was nice enough to let me charge it in her office so I left it there
until I got a chance to call him. But I never made it to my break that night
and I never did retrieve my phone.<br />
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<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As soon as I saw the two policemen speaking to my boss I
knew what the feeling was that I had been having all night that lingered over
like a dark cloud. It was dread and uncertainty. I tried to think of a reason
why they would be there but couldn't come up with one that had to do with
anything good. There was still a small chance that they weren't here for me but
in the back of my mind I couldn't shake the feeling that they were. Anytime the
police come to your job you know that it’s because something bad has happened. As
the three of them caught my eye I turned to walk away in a meager attempt to
avoid what was coming next. Clutching my empty tray close to my chest I barely
breathed while my heart skipped more than a beat as I heard my name being
called quietly by my boss as he discreetly motioned for me to come over.
Looking back it was stupid to think that I could just walk away from it. As if
it all could just easily avoided by doing something as little as changing the
path that my feet would treded upon. Turning back around I tried to plaster a
fake smile on my face as I faced two officers who wanted to speak to me outside
about something. I felt the chill of icy fingers run down my spine before they
settled back around my stomach to turn it into knots. <o:p></o:p></div>
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I don’t even remember what phone number I gave them when
they asked me if I would like to call someone to pick me up. A numbing coldness
enveloped me as I sat waiting a prisoner in my own thoughts. The whole building
could have caught fire but I was so very far away though I was very rooted to
the chair that I sat in.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Starry? What’s wrong? What’s happened?” My cousin Shadow
Sea voice came slowly and quietly as the mention of my name being spoken by him
pushed aside all the thoughts that were clouding my mind. ”I got here quickly
as possible. What happened? An officer called my house and told me that I had
to come down here to pick you up.” <o:p></o:p></div>
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Looking up at him I saw Shadow more unkempt than I had ever
seen him before. Lost was his neatly slicked back hair, the always perfectly
put together outfit completely with a tie and a freshly smooth saved face that
always had a timid hint of aftershave. Replacing all of that was a shaggy uncombed
hair, grisliness and wrinkled clothes that consisted of sweatpants and a tee
shirt both of which had seen better and cleaner days. All the details were
practically jumping off of him as I noticed each and every one of them instead
of giving him an answer as I allowed for the cop to take the lead in
explaining, the burden lifted temporarily off my figuratively busted and broken
shoulders. It was just easier looking at each and every one of those little red
flags as I tried to analyze them than admitting what had happened tonight while
I was at work. So I focused in on them and pondered it out while the world kept
on going. I don’t think I had ever known the day that I had seen him without a
crisply starched and ironed buttoned up collared shirt with a matching tie.
This all hinted towards something that I should have known but at that moment
my mind ran blank. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
Looking at him on the car ride to my parents I remembered a
day long ago that he had called practically everyone in our family just to tell
them that he had found the one, the one that he was going to spend the rest of
his life with. It was so unusual and unlike him but there he was declaring his
love for Rowan to just about anyone that would listen. We were all so naive to
think that we had it all and that it would last forever. But what did we know
we were all young and in love. We did have it all, just not the common sense to
ever think that it would end. That it would one day be over in ways that we
would have never dreamed of. Now in
these distant years down the long road they had broken up barely even a month
ago, I remembered. It all seemed so silly, in fact right now everything seemed
silly and rather pointless. <o:p></o:p><br />
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I never did go back to our apartment. That night Shadow Sea
took me back to my parents’ house. We drove for what seemed like hours but was
only a 45 minute ride in silence and there I stayed. Even as the funeral approached I remained not
wanting for a moment to go back there. And To me it was a place that now housed
my broken life. <o:p></o:p><br />
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The funeral passed by in a motion filled blur as people that hadn't really been in my life came in only to exit as quickly as they came.
Sure everyone was full of ‘I’m sorry for your loss’ or ‘If there is anything I
can do’ but at the end of the day they were home comfortable in their own
houses while I was nursing the pain of loving the love of my life. My mother
tried to be helpful in mentioning something I already knew but I wasn't like my
great, great grandfather the famed artist. Sanguinello never visited me in my s
dreams like his wife supposedly haunted his. Practically every artist knew of
their tragic story though I’m not sure that I believed in all of that anyway.
But there wasn't one piece of me that wouldn't give everything that I could to
get Sanguinello to visit mine. No instead my dreams were filled with the night
of his death when I had to go identify him. Every night I would have to relive
it. So I tried my hardest not to sleep but it would never work and I’d find
myself going through the motions of that night again. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Quietly after we walked outside and away from the gala they
informed me that I was needed to help identify a body. Thoughts swirled around
in my head as I sought to figure out why they would need my help rather than
anyone else’s. But it became all too clear as the mortician opened the cooler, pulled the body tray out and with a clean flick of his wrist briskly whisked away the blanket displaying the berry that was underneath it. It
looked as if he was peacefully sleeping; his hair was disheveled as usual but
had that look that it would get from deeply snuggle into all the blankets
pulling them over his head to cocoon himself away as he slept. But I knew he wasn't sleeping even though that was all I wanted to believe from the moment I
saw him. By now bruises and other painful wounds had crept up on his body
forming dark patches all along his broken body. Even though they had laid him
so nicely on the table it was hard not to see just how broken his body was.
There was no coming back. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
Words from a
literature class came back to me easily as if waiting for a moment to spring
upon me, finally finding it this one. I could practically hear my teacher’s
voice the same as the day they were spoken, tired as if she was counting down
till the bell rung too.<i>Go, get thee hence, for I will not away. What's here? a cup,
closed in my true love's hand? Poison, I see, hath been his timeless end. O churl! Drunk all, and left no friendly
drop. To help me after? I will kiss thy
lips; Haply some poison yet doth hang on them, To make me die with a
restorative. </i>I had scoffed at them as our teacher asked us what they
meant. I remembered thinking that Julep had been some really stupid girl to go
and kill herself after finding him the man that she was risking everything for
dead. Never did I understand how someone could be moved that way. But only now
did I begin to understand how she felt. The sense of loss that she knew as she
saw the man that she loved lifeless body never to stir again, never to smile or
look upon her with his heart in his eyes so vulnerable but oh so determined.
Those words haunted me as I confirmed that, that indeed was my husband. Echoing
in my mind making it think things that on any normal given day I would have
slapped the sugar out of myself for even entertaining such thoughts. Though
here I was and there he was, separated now forever, severed from each other any
connection that we once had was now gone because he was gone. And right then
and there I would have done almost anything to be with him. But it just seemed
all so surreal and like a bad dream. This couldn't be happening at any moment I
could wake up and everything would be ok.</div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“It will be ok. Everything will be ok.” My mind was hard at
work relentlessly refusing to accept what had actually happened. It shot to
think of wild and crazy ideas of how he could still be alive and that everyone
else was mistaken. That at any given moment he was going to open his eyes. And
I was assuring him that everything would be fine because in my mind everything
was going to be. In my mind there couldn't be a world without him. It was just
too foreign of an idea for me to even comprehend. That is until I had to leave.
Then it was all I knew, all that was real. He was gone. Sanguinello is gone.
The words sank further into my mind as I forgot where I was or that there was
even anyone around me<o:p></o:p></div>
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“NO STOP He needs me! STOP! Don’t make me leave! I can’t go!
HE NEEDS ME! I CAN’T LEAVE HIM! Get off! Get the fudge off of me! Sanguinello!”
And then it would end with me being pulled away. The arm wrapped around my
waist in what felt like an weighted iron grip pulling at me as I was being taken away.
The quietly irritating noise of their voices attempting to calm and soothe me felt
like it was physically pressing down on me, smothering my ability to even breathe. But no I had to be louder. I had to
do something I couldn't let myself go but I was already gone, so far gone. I
was lost in hysteria as I withered and twisted as hard as I could to get away
from them but it was of no use. “I… he… no, no no! I can’t… Not without him…
Please no…Sanguinello no… I would have…I would have gone with you…”<o:p></o:p></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
So to say that I wanted to see him was an understatement. I
wanted him to save me from these dreams but how could he when I couldn't even
save him from himself. I blamed myself for what had happened and I guess it was
guilt that would swallow me up every night because I had nothing else besides
it. I failed him, it was plain and simple as that. Of course his aunt would say
otherwise when I finally admitted this to her. It sometimes felt like she was
the only one that understood and cared as much as I did about him. In truth she
also blamed herself but she confided me that this was not the first time he had
tried to kill himself. I soon found out when he said that he told me everything that, that wasn't exactly the truth. When in fact he had long string of attempts
since he was barely a teenager. There had been small incidents where is seemed
like he was testing the boundaries of life, the ones that could be passed off as an accident. Then there were the more serious ones were he almost
succeeded and ones that you couldn't deny what he just tried to do. His last was after his parent's gave up custody of him. My first day of school when I first saw him and assumption that he was
writing someone a letter was correct just not the kind I had even wanted to think that he would be capable of writing.
<o:p></o:p></div>
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But in a moment everything changed when he looked up as he
tried to think of a word that was on the tip of his tongue. We saw each other
for the first time. After he fell he went straight to his aunt’s house and gave
her the book that contained the letter and all of those thoughts that he had
written down. He told her that he had seen a girl with blue hair that even without speaking a
word made him wanted to go through the dance once again of trying to
get better. Someone that could love him with all his faults. But I never did get that chance to. Because eventually those faults like a poison began to eat away at him, replacing everything with the paranoia of me leaving him because of them if I ever found out everything. And then after that had become cemented into Sanguinello's mind it was like he was living on borrowed time. As hard as it was I had to accept I couldn't have seen this coming and that meant I couldn't have prevented it when I was under the assumption that he had never gotten it that badly.<br />
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But when I began to accept what had happened I moved out of the stage of denial and straight into anger. I don't think there ever was a time that I had felt so much anger towards one berry as I did a month later.</div>
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cupcakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08521399676517388209noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5466120303155862835.post-11175398463471282582012-07-15T08:39:00.000-07:002012-07-15T08:39:04.345-07:00Starry's Generation 8tracks is up now!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgSnNnUEA45vR33UPVnnQG9fn06MvxHzZGEP5ZOukh_svs_U45R8G8cIqHlTBWlAgazfq_yuUAtrWqZ6JpRAyYDY3uiNQx6JUYihEJR770KIHkjMPZnWpmO36WBltDPo2QKkv1GKD_f0c/s1600/ss.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgSnNnUEA45vR33UPVnnQG9fn06MvxHzZGEP5ZOukh_svs_U45R8G8cIqHlTBWlAgazfq_yuUAtrWqZ6JpRAyYDY3uiNQx6JUYihEJR770KIHkjMPZnWpmO36WBltDPo2QKkv1GKD_f0c/s320/ss.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://8tracks.com/thecupthatiscake/generation-6-starry-night#">Click Here</a><br />
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Song list after the cut.<br />
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The Stars~Patrick Wolf<br />
Creep~Radiohead<br />
Popular~Nada Surf<br />
How Soon Is Now~Love Spit Love<br />
Novocaine For The Soul~Eels<br />
Free~The Martinis<br />
The Boy Who Destroyed The World~AFI<br />
No Rain~Blind Melon<br />
Zero~Smashing Pumpkins<br />
#1 Crush~Garbage<br />
The Perfect Drug~NIN<br />
Man That You Fear~Marilyn Manson<br />
Here In Your Bedroom~Goldfinger<br />
Today~Smashing Pumpkins<br />
Something In The Way~Nirvana<br />
Coma White~Marilyn Manson<br />
Desperately Wanting~Better Than Ezra<br />
Where The Moss Slowly Grows~Tiger Army<br />
Hurt~NIN<br />
Penzance~Patrick Wolf<br />
Vincent~NoFX<br />
God Called In Sick Today~AFI<br />
Dotted With Hearts~HorrorPops<br />
Don’t Speak~No Doubt<br />
My All~ Mariah Carrey<br />
Afterworld~Tiger Army<br />
It Can’t Rain All The Time~Jane Siberrycupcakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08521399676517388209noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5466120303155862835.post-48072996751907074042012-06-10T05:08:00.000-07:002012-06-10T05:12:19.772-07:00The Meringue Rainbowcy~A Legacy Gone Technicolor Chapter 14<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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“Well hurry up will you?” Starry said jokingly as she
crossed her arms momentarily faking indignation. “I’ll be back in a moment I just need to
take my meds. It will only take a few seconds.” I said from the stairs as I
already started my descent after only making it halfway up. I had gotten home
just a few moments ago from an interview that ended in ‘There have been a
number of applicants but I guess we’ll call you if we have an additional
opening.’ “Come on I’ve been working on this for sooo long!” She called from
outside the spareroom’s door. For the past two weeks she apparently had this
great idea and forbade me from stepping foot into there or even opening the
door. It was supposed to be a birthday present and a perfect one at that or at
least that is what she kept saying with an excited sparkle to her eyes. This
year Starry was hell bent on giving me the best birthday ever, I guess to take
away from the fact that I had yet to find a job or even sell one of my
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Grabbing a drink from the fridge and my medication from the
cabinet I paused for a moment. Looking at the bottle of pills they seemed to
mock me as they returned my stares with blank indifference. <i>What would happen if
I stopped taking them?</i> I wondered to myself before the voice of doubt in the
back of my mind answered. <i>She’d leave you.</i> </div>
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<i>No she wouldn’t, </i>I thought back and I swear I heard it
cackle at me. <i>They’re the only reason why she stayed. Do you think she’d really
still be here if she knew how you could really be without being subdued?</i> It
questioned as it began to begin its process of poking holes into my self-worth.
<i>That’s not true</i> I thought back to it furiously as I felt the muscles in my face
tightening into a frown.<i> I know it’s true and you know it’s true. Fudge if you
really don’t think it’s true go ask her. See what she would do then. Go on.</i> It
taunted me with every word as it whispered in my ear. </div>
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<i>She wouldn’t care, Starry loves me.</i> I said to myself with a
note of finality as I picked up the bottle of pills resignedly again with a
disappointed sigh having just inadvertently talked myself into another day of
taking them again, another day where they controlled my life. But the voice
wasn’t done and what it said stopped me. <i>She’s already on her way out with this
relationship. You saw how she was talking to that guy. What did she say his
name was again? Oh that’s right, Leaf. This would just be probably the last
thing that pushes her over the edge before she is done with you. And then where
you will be? Probably back at your Aunt’s house? Perhaps maybe after a spell at
that institute that your parents sent you numerous times.</i> Just the word brought back memories
of a time that I had fought to forget. But the voice didn’t pay any attention
as I shut my eyes while I tried to keep them out. No it didn’t notice that I
had dropped the pill bottle as I reached my hands up toward my head, pressing
them onto my skull with as much pressure as I could in attempts to shut it up.
The sound of them hitting the floor seemed to echo beyond the kitchen and into
the whole downstairs as they spilled their contents and rolled away. </div>
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<i>Face it Starry is already looking at other options; she’s
been done with you for a while now. The only reason why she hasn’t already
kicked you out is because she is probably feeling sorry for you. She doesn’t
love you anymore and she probably never did in the first place anyway. So go
ahead stop taking your medication. You’ve already lost her what else more do
you have to lose?</i> Maybe it was right. After all I did catch Starry and that guy
together. The way they were looking at each other as they flirted and he sung
to her before she realized I was even there felt like a swift kick to the head
as my heart dropped out. And then the way she acted as she introduced us. <i>It was right, completely right. I'm just a...</i></div>
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“Sanguinello?” I heard Starry say my name from behind me, as
I blinked I realized that I was still holding the bottle of pills in my head in
the same spot that I had been the whole time. Looking at them as I turned it
around in my hand listening to them clatter around in their container, the cold
realization hit me that I had experienced another hallucination. Without a word
I just put them back in the cabinet without taking a single one and walked back
through the living room heading towards the stairs where Starry where was
waiting for me at the top of them.</div>
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“Ok, ok close your eyes.” She said excitedly so I obliged and
I heard the door creak as it was opened. Feeling her warm soft hand grab mine
and lead me forward I heard Starry exclaim. “Ok! Open them!” As I opened them I
saw both of our easels had been brought up along with all of our supplies.
Freshly papered walls lined the room and now the floor was boarded with smooth
wooden planks. Stepping into the room it now looked more like an art studio
than just a spare room. “Do you like it?” Starry asked as she watched for my
reaction breathlessly. But all I could think at that moment that it all seemed
like a waste, my schooling, this room, everything. </div>
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“It’s great! Hopefully with a room like this I can create
some stellar things instead of what I have been painting.” I replied trying my
hardest to keep any sarcasm out of my voice. “The world just isn’t ready for a
taste you yet. But you are the best artist that I know and one day everyone
will want a paint done by you.” Starry replied trying her best to be soothing
which was quite a stretch after I had just basically stomped all over her well
intentioned gift. “It’s great, really great, Thank you love.” I said as I
pulled her to me. Kissing her I pushed away all my thoughts and doubts while I
whispered “I don’t think anyone else could have made this into a room that I’d
like and find a perfect as you did.” </div>
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As time wore on it felt like the world around me was
crumbling and there was nothing I could do about it. Day in and day out I spent
my time either looking for a job or lounging around the apartment. I wasn’t
picky I would have taken anything but after filling out applications and never
getting any call backs I was beginning to feel like I’d be spending the rest of
my life mooching off of Starry. And I
won’t lie but living like this made me feel like less of a man. It was no
wonder she had probably falling all over that Leaf character.</div>
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“Did you remember to take you medication?” Starry asked
while she was quickly trying to finish getting ready so she could get out the
door and to the gallery on time. Like almost every weekend she was working during the day and then at night too at their galas.“Yes, I’ve been taking them every day since
before we even met so I’d think I am more than capable of remember to take my
medication.” I replied irritated from the couch. “I know
it’s just that you’ve been well…” She started to say but then I cut her off as
I grew more and more frustrated.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNGkMDORG6TdKSTPHNUBUGjy4tTPAuJxrZeOWqgXkX4wqB_eixKhtapD-viqyywMLDqEEHzm51vHkiMZ75-BTO44mW3MoqOFkGrJjDVvaOP5Ggc4rfDmQK3VhpIflzZAA0brWN7q-kJ2M/s1600/Screenshot-1516.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNGkMDORG6TdKSTPHNUBUGjy4tTPAuJxrZeOWqgXkX4wqB_eixKhtapD-viqyywMLDqEEHzm51vHkiMZ75-BTO44mW3MoqOFkGrJjDVvaOP5Ggc4rfDmQK3VhpIflzZAA0brWN7q-kJ2M/s400/Screenshot-1516.png" width="400" /></a></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
“Just because I might have some problems doesn’t mean I
can’t have an off day or two. I mean what do you expect? None of my paintings
are selling I can’t even get a job at a fast food place to help pay with the
rent or any of our other bills. So yes I might be couch surfing again today and
maybe I will tomorrow too.” I gruffly said not even trying to hide any traces
of anger or irritation in my voice. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYMfrP3OrDRcLlQOby3WVShOn-UVhTg8G5PWzxo4ctoQJbpSYmNlJLwZC3d5HUc7dFj5FPvbJYHuTApBfBhi1MJo5lVXsuNYF3-NcoV3zCduxkC1ty1SJUa9J2nGGb1Dt08aNLWVSi9AE/s1600/Screenshot-1517.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYMfrP3OrDRcLlQOby3WVShOn-UVhTg8G5PWzxo4ctoQJbpSYmNlJLwZC3d5HUc7dFj5FPvbJYHuTApBfBhi1MJo5lVXsuNYF3-NcoV3zCduxkC1ty1SJUa9J2nGGb1Dt08aNLWVSi9AE/s400/Screenshot-1517.png" width="400" /></a></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
“Fine, whatever do what you want if it
makes you happy. I have to go. I’m late as it is already and we really need
this extra cash. I’ll see you when I get home tonight, maybe pick up some
Tahitian food from that place you like? Light the fireplace and eat dinner on
the balcony then relax on the lounge chairs or maybe in the hot tub together.”
Starry suggested briefly as she dropped down to give me a kiss goodbye but
hesitated before doing so and in that hesitation I turned away so her lips only
brushed barely my cheek. Her soft breath was warm against my ear as she sighed before
whispering “I love you Sanguinello.” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<div class="MsoNormal">
My eyes followed her as she left, quietly closing the door
behind her before focusing on the blank tv screen as I let my mind wonder.
Sifting through memories like sand trickling through my fingers bits and pieces
surfaced. From the first moment that Starry and I actually started talking. I
had been so nervous that day like practically every day that I had tried to
talk to her before. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFO2hVGje10tJuuZ1xHLcbv2lfn1HkH0vEtJEZWT_BSzT-31GkG_3SIssjBkDAz2VWMQcP76H3s6_SsGJKq8RaDNCWn4Y6z4mupiALRYnemDYvMRV3SOSp7mZYXKXE5ScqWtEGtKyBIYQ/s1600/Screenshot-1519.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFO2hVGje10tJuuZ1xHLcbv2lfn1HkH0vEtJEZWT_BSzT-31GkG_3SIssjBkDAz2VWMQcP76H3s6_SsGJKq8RaDNCWn4Y6z4mupiALRYnemDYvMRV3SOSp7mZYXKXE5ScqWtEGtKyBIYQ/s400/Screenshot-1519.png" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>In a time of loneliness I fell into your strong open arms.
And in those arms you loved me well. You hid me in your calm.</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0c6tOvtUSXlfYgsf-xukZG3w_wAXdVkcUDK1A7g5B0YFrdX_nDVoD9yk7DKWN9ZAL6Eys2_bVB_3oGXpMFCmsYNJlNEnB8Jtq1Qosp3BXhgcBo63fYbFWh_Uy7S71Ud05JcQkAXwT5e4/s1600/Screenshot-2633+copy.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0c6tOvtUSXlfYgsf-xukZG3w_wAXdVkcUDK1A7g5B0YFrdX_nDVoD9yk7DKWN9ZAL6Eys2_bVB_3oGXpMFCmsYNJlNEnB8Jtq1Qosp3BXhgcBo63fYbFWh_Uy7S71Ud05JcQkAXwT5e4/s400/Screenshot-2633+copy.png" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But things just seemed to fall in place that day and before
I knew it I was sitting right next to her talking easily to her like I had
already known her for a life time. And soon we started spending all of our time
together. I don’t think that there was ever a happier time in my life until I
met her. Being with her made me feel like I could be loved, that I was worthy
enough for someone to actually care about me. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBbO4t9fJR657eTvNi5cmvjGvThjwC4Gnv5tyUA_IQxvSf3nxO8CnPjQctS79lv66HBRl8aeHUFNVg3Khk3x2stIPPosH2ZvZvA_91xY9Py1BC4C4tqwcOfyxxSz_KBOChJno1vMP0UZg/s1600/Screenshot-1540.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBbO4t9fJR657eTvNi5cmvjGvThjwC4Gnv5tyUA_IQxvSf3nxO8CnPjQctS79lv66HBRl8aeHUFNVg3Khk3x2stIPPosH2ZvZvA_91xY9Py1BC4C4tqwcOfyxxSz_KBOChJno1vMP0UZg/s400/Screenshot-1540.png" width="400" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>And in that charm we headed south knowing nothing of my
demons</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaFzS48Bm2Z35r-5-ogt3ijB8HOPa5WR7_IyR-dzNw3IoJHfFY-ReBMqO0Lx4t9FfPTxaQO1xy5o6Bbqf0nqcwfbRXWaqC_WHPSz3QzSuniahGrEYBLV4TJZi1cEmzgrpqlltER0wi7mY/s1600/Screenshot-1546+copy.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaFzS48Bm2Z35r-5-ogt3ijB8HOPa5WR7_IyR-dzNw3IoJHfFY-ReBMqO0Lx4t9FfPTxaQO1xy5o6Bbqf0nqcwfbRXWaqC_WHPSz3QzSuniahGrEYBLV4TJZi1cEmzgrpqlltER0wi7mY/s400/Screenshot-1546+copy.png" width="400" /></a></div>
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</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But now it didn’t even matter it just felt like everything it
was all over. I couldn’t stop obsessing about that guy and her ever since I
stopped taking my medication. I had hated having to depend on those blasted
pills every day. But without them my
mind wandered aimlessly as it tossed and turned through a sea of emotions, one
quickly blending in to another. Happiness quickly giving out to anger in the
snap of a finger to a point I couldn’t pin point why exactly I was angry but I
was there fighting internally with myself to not go in a full rage. I always
feared that I would hurt her if I went into one and that was something that I
could never forgive myself if it had ever happened. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWwr23iwbIcppRxeKlkC1oMm3eDfScDzy_DajuaE9h1b4_EsC4NG4Iw3VYVVgc3m5ZTkOVKpykUwuG6iGmeuz2huzAUC8A-Mh6OfS0WwiAjOvcXwZJk-HLsI9GrDPi0QSvirk4DhyphenhyphenVaRs/s1600/Screenshot-1542.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWwr23iwbIcppRxeKlkC1oMm3eDfScDzy_DajuaE9h1b4_EsC4NG4Iw3VYVVgc3m5ZTkOVKpykUwuG6iGmeuz2huzAUC8A-Mh6OfS0WwiAjOvcXwZJk-HLsI9GrDPi0QSvirk4DhyphenhyphenVaRs/s400/Screenshot-1542.png" width="400" /></a></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>There were devils in the winds that night, walking fire
among the hills. And many voices called me out to the cliffs. But you held me
safe, you wrestled me still.</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEsgSpovo3MZQAqgegCSaLBCCMNHE77PAu28fvHMbbN8WtRF_Jwx7WZ3qpk7ty8KzFLpVEc1SYOm6ZKglQHhUFVkVCHd641h3l22BKjoAne_XIhDqo-VeIgvXqZLFLbmYVVVq-GXCjndc/s1600/Screenshot-1522+copy.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEsgSpovo3MZQAqgegCSaLBCCMNHE77PAu28fvHMbbN8WtRF_Jwx7WZ3qpk7ty8KzFLpVEc1SYOm6ZKglQHhUFVkVCHd641h3l22BKjoAne_XIhDqo-VeIgvXqZLFLbmYVVVq-GXCjndc/s400/Screenshot-1522+copy.png" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But when my friends came for a visit it happened again like
it did those other times and I was still on my medication, taking them daily
out of fear that it would happened again when it does. Like having the rug
taken out from under me I found myself back in a dark place that I haven’t
graced for years. But being with Starry almost could make it all go away.
Almost. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVZDNnoTOrwjTOrN7vSG5L_dcGCNXBD63bg0-hAmB7bLjQqu8nEm6lkmovFjDs6A80FRpyYrKdkzl-bmQeOq4K37JgeFWGQcSwDj__5F14fRYFG6tCHBhlw69FKX_Zp595AXSfdnMai0Y/s1600/Screenshot-1543.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVZDNnoTOrwjTOrN7vSG5L_dcGCNXBD63bg0-hAmB7bLjQqu8nEm6lkmovFjDs6A80FRpyYrKdkzl-bmQeOq4K37JgeFWGQcSwDj__5F14fRYFG6tCHBhlw69FKX_Zp595AXSfdnMai0Y/s400/Screenshot-1543.png" width="400" /></a></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 388.9pt;">
<i>Wiping the black blood from my mouth
speeding into nowhere</i><i> </i> </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwTefD1kzRguFAt_4yzc2_ZRnF4c5gD7Tb2Htd0uaCLEpYu9WDGu9hqfps_ThXkKNyxrJk5TEIsCo7gj6fUre_Ca_wI2Fvp6gY2PCyIwqkRVbd2s-eJKGH6Bg-RlXJG-5qbnOS1n5ovcg/s1600/Screenshot-1528+copy.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwTefD1kzRguFAt_4yzc2_ZRnF4c5gD7Tb2Htd0uaCLEpYu9WDGu9hqfps_ThXkKNyxrJk5TEIsCo7gj6fUre_Ca_wI2Fvp6gY2PCyIwqkRVbd2s-eJKGH6Bg-RlXJG-5qbnOS1n5ovcg/s400/Screenshot-1528+copy.png" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
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<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Her touch could be calming, it could be exciting but most of
all it could take my mind away from everything else. I could barely look her in
the eyes as she cleaned me up that night they brought me back. All I could
remember was feeling the wet coldness from the damp cloth as she cleaned my
face while I laid in bed before I drifted away.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQux_ViaHDeSzIArlF37yIkk5b3IAnZoljVmzQfPod2gXTb_55AYi9TWmpsty0ZLkvI_FGpffo-6NeWUp1Cd5RSTue_sdJYvmco7WqTvz8zK1haY5MX28CszbGEWp2H4odBKajvmcH8Q4/s1600/Screenshot-1547+copy.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQux_ViaHDeSzIArlF37yIkk5b3IAnZoljVmzQfPod2gXTb_55AYi9TWmpsty0ZLkvI_FGpffo-6NeWUp1Cd5RSTue_sdJYvmco7WqTvz8zK1haY5MX28CszbGEWp2H4odBKajvmcH8Q4/s400/Screenshot-1547+copy.png" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>It starts in Penzance where the winds are born and follows
the track of this train. And just like this love coming back for you it will
come back for me again.</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZa-Eye7Fj7FWj_-H4f6fq863e2zGP7A8IWIHYDIUaaGunhYra15w1njx8Cg-wepSM9miTW1RZ-lagxtALrAovO-qYit7lOXvdDUs3RgdIjR2-LolVVRqJB0VHrO2I_lWB91WffzKvR_U/s1600/Screenshot-1548.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZa-Eye7Fj7FWj_-H4f6fq863e2zGP7A8IWIHYDIUaaGunhYra15w1njx8Cg-wepSM9miTW1RZ-lagxtALrAovO-qYit7lOXvdDUs3RgdIjR2-LolVVRqJB0VHrO2I_lWB91WffzKvR_U/s400/Screenshot-1548.png" width="400" /></a></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
When was I going to learn though? I will never be normal, I
will never be ok. There will be only just periods of where I’ll seem fine but
I’m actually not because deep inside me it is always fighting to get it out and
taking that stuff, those pills only make it slumber for a while before it seems
like they have no effect on it at all. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy_tvUgB9XS-RVdANGuJJjs6dXUHJeIJwn3-5J583P8lHJBI5Hk9tjEZOsKCxJOLhgfDJONHF7FdXHfmKPne6GwR8BwxQQPsKvHW5xr176doip-UyNdVyFYrRHcxpEfqAQcvrweYH3kmw/s1600/Screenshot-1549+copy.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy_tvUgB9XS-RVdANGuJJjs6dXUHJeIJwn3-5J583P8lHJBI5Hk9tjEZOsKCxJOLhgfDJONHF7FdXHfmKPne6GwR8BwxQQPsKvHW5xr176doip-UyNdVyFYrRHcxpEfqAQcvrweYH3kmw/s400/Screenshot-1549+copy.png" width="400" /></a></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>"What a beautiful town!" I shouted out. Oh, but
what a terrifying view..</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-TFq1ftfMQGr9OsDn5iUuHl4Niw4HEzsTBgmGg9b5-G-QrQewRC5GV82U6bhF468w-dArjHgAYhPjGBdDGAwZvtf8ksK3BhvwzEWeaa3otvbMMOVU_hhL4epAl4ShOKjxwoNKohhKYE0/s1600/Screenshot-1565.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-TFq1ftfMQGr9OsDn5iUuHl4Niw4HEzsTBgmGg9b5-G-QrQewRC5GV82U6bhF468w-dArjHgAYhPjGBdDGAwZvtf8ksK3BhvwzEWeaa3otvbMMOVU_hhL4epAl4ShOKjxwoNKohhKYE0/s400/Screenshot-1565.png" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
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<div class="MsoNormal">
But still I try and still I fail. I know somewhere in the
back of my mind there I’m telling myself that I need to call my Aunt Fina but
there is a larger part that just wants this to be over with already. But that’s
just another struggle only this time that larger part is winning and it feels
like there is nothing I can do to stop it from taking over tonight. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>You know I wrestled with my bruised hours just to lie there
next to you. </i>And again my mind shifts and it feels like I’m lying on the
couch looking up at her again. The cuts on my face had started to heal and it’s
slowly beginning to feel like that fight had never happened as I try to bury it
away with every other painful memories that I had. I was determined to be
better for her after that, to be happy for her. And I was. <i>My love, come stop me I am haunted and possessed. And with
my darkest hour yet to come. It's only you, only you can stop me</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
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Not knowing what I was doing I find myself dialing Starry’s
cellphone gripping the phone with a shaky hand as I dialed like it could slip
away any moment as I tried not succumb to anymore memories, even though I know
she won’t pick up since she is at work. But still I beg and plead with her to.
“Please pick up Starry, please pick up. I need you now. Please baby pick up.”
Save me from myself please. Despairingly I tossed the phone on the couch after the
third time. I just need to go outside clear my head and get through this. It’s
nothing you haven’t been through before. I tried to assure myself as I opened
the door to the balcony to get some fresh air as I tried to not to think of the
last time this had happened I was institutionalized for the umpteenth time in my
life and I really didn’t want to go back there. <i>Come back to Penzance where the winds are born Just follow
the tracks of this trains. And just like this love calling out for you. It is calling me out again...</i></div>
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Watching the cars zip by me below as their lights formed
trails of lines, it seemed like time and everything was moving faster than it
really was. The pain still gripped my chest as it felt like it was still
attempting to implode. My breathing was still fast and short and even though
deep down I knew I was technically breathing just fine I still felt as if I
couldn’t breathe at all. There was a part of me that wanted nothing more than to curl
up into a small ball and wait till it past again but an even larger part wanted
it and everything else to be over with, to make it all just finally stop. </div>
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Almost mindlessly I hoisted myself over the rails, holding
on to them as I continued to watch the cars and their lights go again by in an
almost mesmerizing way. Ledges of buildings were not entirely safe for
feet whether they be bare or sneaker clad I found out quickly as my left foot slipped out from behind me making me
grip the cold glass railing even tighter to avoid falling</div>
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A nervous laugh
escaped my lips as the ground with its cars seemed to rush up at me and I felt
dizzy. For a moment I felt more than panicky and in my mind’s eye I saw
Starry’s face surface momentarily before it was lost in a sea of what plagued
me my whole entire life.</div>
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With one hand on the rail I reached with my other to
grab the necklace that hung around my neck and pulled it off with barely a tug,
it was the only time I was not bothered by its loose clasp. I dropped it behind
me, not even hearing the small ping of the ring hitting the balcony tile
through the sounds of the city at night and then I just let go.</div>
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I let go and I never felt as free as I did in that moment. </div>
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Song- Patrick Wolf's Penzance<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/bEtqrCCj73k?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<br /></div>cupcakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08521399676517388209noreply@blogger.com32tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5466120303155862835.post-22525218720884014742012-06-04T05:16:00.001-07:002012-06-04T05:24:29.421-07:00The Meringue Rainbowcy~A Legacy Gone Technicolor Chapter 13 Generation Starry<br />
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“I want to get married.” Was not what I expected to hear one
humid late afternoon as spring transitioned into summer. It was only weeks
before graduating and my mind was overflowing with all the cramming I was doing
lately. Though with every little bit of extra information that it tried to
absorb felt like more of it was trickling out. As much as I was dreading taking
the exams I was more than looking forward to some relief from this all. “You
want to do what now?” I asked taken back by the mere suggestion of what I
thought I heard him just say. I felt myself recoiling from him and to the other
side of the couch though I didn't have far to go since it was a loveseat while Sanguinello just laughed. “I want to get married.” </div>
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“Why? What we have right now is perfect. Why do you want to
go and mess it all up?” I questioned as thoughts raced through my mind, whizzing around and buzzing in my ear. Like my
parents’ marriage, my father cheated on my mother and had a child with another
lady. What if I did get married to Sanguinello and he cheats on me? The thought
of Sanguinello and another woman flashed upfront pushing everything else to the
side. My stomach felt quesy as it dropped out while the mental picture of it
branded itself deep inside my head. I guess it all played out on my face
because soon I heard Sanguinello say “I’m not your father.” </div>
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“Well of course not obviously… Duh.” I replied to his
statement as I tried to pass it off like I wasn’t thinking like that. “I won’t
ever cheat on you.” He went on promising as he moved closer and closer to my
tightly wound body. Glaring at him I grumbled “I hate when you do that.” By now
Sanguinello was right up next to me, close enough for him to swiftly kiss my
nose before I could “Do what? This?” </div>
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“No.” I looked away as I tried to curb a smile. “How about
this? Do you hate when I do this?” He asked before quickly kissing my cheek.
Pretending to sigh exasperatedly while trying to turn father away from him I
rested my head on my arms as I bit my lip. Gently after nipping my earlobe he
whispered “And this?” By now I could all but giggle as I tried unsuccessfully
to stifle it as I looked up into his grinning face. “No you dolt! I mean get
into my head. It’s like you know exactly what I am thinking sometimes.” </div>
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“Isn’t that a good thing? That we are all in tune with each
other and things like that, etcetera, etcetera?
” Sanguinello asked as he begun to play with my hair completely
preoccupied by it as if this whole conversation suddenly got boring. I’ll never
get guys preoccupation with girl’s hair as I thought about the boys that liked
to pull Indy’s hair whenever she wore it in pigtails in grade school “I guess
if you want to look at it like that…” I replied totally unconvinced but who
else would I want to really get me except for him? Quickly as I conceded I
asked “Ok then, when?” </div>
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“How about right now? No waiting, no planning just right
now.” Sanguinello said as he turned his fully attention back onto the
conversation at hand. I considered his idea for a moment as Sanguinello
impatiently waited for my answer. The idea of getting married without a wedding
or eloping was rather tempting. During the months that my sister had been
engaged we bore witness to her slowly becoming a rampaging bride as their
wedding date crept closer. Although when it was finally over with I don’t think
that I ever seen her as happy as she looked on her day, standing up the in
front of everyone with Midnight. Maybe a little piece of me kind of wanted that
too. But a larger part thought the idea of standing up there in front of a lot
of people like that with all of their eyes on me was absolutely terrifying. It
didn’t take long for my fear of social situations and their obligations to win
out. “Sure let’s get married, right now.” I said feeling confident about my
decision and the small fact that I wouldn’t have to explain repeatedly to my
great aunt Bombay where she was and who all of those people where that kept
talking to her like I did at my sister’s wedding. “Just so we are completely on
the same page… We’re still child free by choice right? You’re not going to wake
up tomorrow and decided that you want to be a father, right?” I asked trying to
make sure that all of my ducks were in a row with this. Because the last thing
I would ever want is to have a kid. I know most girls get baby fever whenever
they see a cute baby but not me. Its not that I hated kids… Alright maybe I did
but not everyone is perfect. <i>Hey that reminds me I have to send Wisteria a congratulations
card. </i></div>
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Quietly like another memory from a past life we were married
that day. Neither one of our families were the wiser as we read our vows to
each other. As the cold metal graced my finger as Sanguinello slipped the ring
that we had only bought moments ago I had no regrets about our quiet wedding.
We were barely pronounced husband and wife before I found myself being swept
off my feet by Sanguinello as he lifted me up, crushing my body against his as
he kissed me in a way that made me glad that it was not witnessed in a church
by my parents especially my father and his aunt.</div>
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I have to admit that I never saw myself being one of those
girls that flaunted her ring to all of her friends but nothing stopped me from
doing so when I went back to school. I could barely fight the words from
cheerfully popping out of my mouth at lunch with Can-Can as soon as I saw her
“Oh my berry Can-Can! Sanguinello and I are married!” I squealed excitedly
barely able to sit down as I told her all about it. But in doing so I made one
minor mistake and before the sun cast its remaining rays as it slipped away I
received a phone call from my parents. And they were not happy to say the
least.</div>
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“How could you go and do something like that Starry? Don’t
you think you’re mother always dreamed of the day she got to see you walk down
the aisle?” My father’s voice boomed through my cell angrier than I think I’ve
ever heard him before. I could tell he had me on speaker phone in his office
though my mother didn’t say much so my father took it upon himself to speak her
feelings for her. “How could you be so selfish like that? I would have paid for
any wedding you wanted, in any destination in the world had you just asked!
Just wait till later on tonight, you’re poor mother! She didn’t get to see her youngest daughter get married. Are
you happy? That you’re going to make your mother cry?” He roared while I held
the phone away from my ear, wincing with every word before Sanguinello plucked
it out of my hand. </div>
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“Good evening sir!” He yelled loudly back into the phone as
he winked at me and bravely said “I’m going to have to ask you to refrain from
yelling at my wife…. Yes I know she is your daughter, but she is now my wife
and I’m not going to let anyone treat her in a way that is less than desirable….
Yes, I am sure you probably could…. No I was not being sarcastic or talking
back to you…. Well at any rate it is her life and she can live it the way she
wants to.” I didn’t hear the rest of the conversation since Sanguinello walked
outside with my cell closing the door behind him. But my heart did swell with
pride that he was my knight in shining armor, saving me from my father’s wrath
as he dealt with it head on taking the brunt of it himself.</div>
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By the time he got off the phone with him I was upstairs pacing while waiting to hear what was all said to each other and he didn’t
keep me waiting after he had come upstairs. “Everything is fine, your family is
just a little miffed but I might have promised them that one day in near the future
that we would have a very, very small real wedding with a cake. Is that ok?”
Sanguinello ask as he gingerly crossed the threshold of the room to me before he begun to
fiddle with his ring again. “Only if the guest list is less than twenty
people.” I said almost reluctantly as I envisioned it becoming something like I
had intended to avoid when Sanguinello and I got married alone in the first
place. </div>
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After graduation I found a job working at the art gallery in
the south end of Briocheporte. It wasn’t much but it was helping me hedge my
way in to maybe one day having my own painting here to displayed and sold. My
social circle was also expanding a bit more as I met and hung out during
downtime with some of my co-workers. One of my favorites though didn’t work at the
gallery; he was one of those bike messengers that you could often see zipping
around town on their bicycles, weaving in and out through traffic as if they
were invincible. His name was Leaf and he had the unusual tendency to make me
laugh as he would whisper witty though not necessarily nice things about some of the clientele that
frequented the gallery every Friday afternoon right after lunch. He had hair
that reminded me of the dandelions that would grow back home in the yard and
eyes the color of tree bark. All and all he wasn’t that bad looking at all and
I honestly felt really flattered that he conversed with me so often. Of course
one of my co-workers seemed to think that Leaf had a thing for me since out of
everyone there I was the only one that he said more than a few words to before
leaving to speed away to another delivery on his bike. </div>
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I didn’t think anything of until I found the two of us sort
of confessing our dreams to each other. Mine was not surprising but Leaf’s…
Leaf wanted to be a singer. It was during a show at the gallery that he told me
this. I was taking a break outside from serving cocktails and little fancy bit
sized foods. I don’t know what he was doing there since it was well after what
should have been his working hours but there he was out of his little messenger
uniform looking suave and there I was not taking his dreams of singing
seriously. “You don’t think I can sing do you?” Leaf exclaimed to me with fake
indignation as I laughed at the almost cartoony way that he furrowed his
eyebrows all the way up his forehead in shock. I barely could get out a no
before he accepted the challenge and jumped up as fluidly as a cat onto the
concrete barrier that was outside the gallery. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX71zWCyXw2gzKIC_e_AKQ8cWCF9yuanxhyy1Ybwkn0loUtIYsUX5V3RxhLfGLjT60Fgafk11wJi2kiZmIeWT8e2PbfhDdT87oPJ0zQP1LTQW7nTG-eJsNbOPHyd5un3Kghd2mUUnZGJ4/s1600/Screenshot-1293.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX71zWCyXw2gzKIC_e_AKQ8cWCF9yuanxhyy1Ybwkn0loUtIYsUX5V3RxhLfGLjT60Fgafk11wJi2kiZmIeWT8e2PbfhDdT87oPJ0zQP1LTQW7nTG-eJsNbOPHyd5un3Kghd2mUUnZGJ4/s400/Screenshot-1293.png" width="400" /></a></div>
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I don’t know what he was doing there on a Friday night but
there he was standing up there as he cleared his throat dramatically obviously
enjoying my attention on him and the other eyes that swept up to him in
curiosity to see what he was up to. He always had a certain smile that was
always tugging on his lips like he was about to let you in on some inside joke
that would always have anyone smiling back, even I couldn’t help as I found
myself grinning back at him in anticipation. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1r7hGSlxo8Wo3WjDFAFDtxq6TUPQR-zR39Sdod-vJSox7gYKEBxCz_HN1MwdIncllcatNFHvw39JYcJqZ2L3wuL_k_k1o1YkflLsYXValeb7jSe7SG5TN2lIn0QSF0ewLQyfF0hdRny0/s1600/Screenshot-1067.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1r7hGSlxo8Wo3WjDFAFDtxq6TUPQR-zR39Sdod-vJSox7gYKEBxCz_HN1MwdIncllcatNFHvw39JYcJqZ2L3wuL_k_k1o1YkflLsYXValeb7jSe7SG5TN2lIn0QSF0ewLQyfF0hdRny0/s400/Screenshot-1067.png" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">♫</span> <span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">I don't care if Monday's blue, Tuesday's
gray and Wednesday too, Thursday I don't care about you, It's Friday, I'm in
love♫</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">♫</span> <span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Monday you can fall apart, Tuesday,
Wednesday break my heart, Oh, Thursday doesn't even start, It's Friday I'm in
love♫</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkGwRLXuMpQQ4BzQlzjZrBZgRXMk4u33CM-YdW_15knZyaH1VkMLU6n4RM5SeZLW6HqbcFvnbtKkGJ10DU4nUPWgbwuD0mFtAP0fTJvG_juYj9ca_BfU120ZqpBa80fknrRN2bm-YeMeA/s1600/Screenshot-1277.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkGwRLXuMpQQ4BzQlzjZrBZgRXMk4u33CM-YdW_15knZyaH1VkMLU6n4RM5SeZLW6HqbcFvnbtKkGJ10DU4nUPWgbwuD0mFtAP0fTJvG_juYj9ca_BfU120ZqpBa80fknrRN2bm-YeMeA/s400/Screenshot-1277.png" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">As he sung a
song from our childhood I began to notice that every time he sung a certain
chorus he would stare directly at me. ♫It’s Friday I’m in love♫ Leaf belted out
with a large grin at me. It is Friday I realized as a blush began to quickly
spread as my heart skipped a beat before speeding up, pounding away in my chest
as I continued to look up and watch him. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Though it wasn’t for much longer as I
soon heard my name called by a voice that immediately made me ashamed of just
about everything that was going on right now and what I was feeling about
someone else.</span><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; line-height: 115%;">The look on his face as I turned around after hearing my
name spoke was almost heartbroken as confusion muddled it. My heart beat in my
ears, echoing loudly as it tried its hardest to drown out all of the other
noise in between us “Starry whats going on?” Sanguinello asked while Leaf void
of my attention jumped down from where he was and briskly walked over. Tongue tied
I couldn’t answer him because I think in the back of my head I knew where Leaf
was going with all of this as soon as he sung the first course. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; line-height: 115%;">“Hey guy what’s up, I’m Leaf. What’s your name?” He asked
my husband but Sanguinello gave him no acknowledgement for a few moments as he
just looked at me with his brow knitted together as his eyes seemed to see
right through me. “My name is Sanguinello. I’m Starry’s husband.” Sanguinello
replied in a toneless voice holding my gaze as he continued on. As the emotions
melted from his face the new look that replaced it reminded me of a night not
too long ago when I saw him literally go crazy before my very eyes and beat the
pulp out of this guy before he had to be forced home so he didn’t do any more
damage to him. “I just wanted to see when Starry’s next break was so I could
bring her some dinner and we could eat together. But since it’s already her
break I guess I’ll just head home then” </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; line-height: 115%;">“You can stay!” I exclaimed quickly without a second
glance at Leaf but Sanguinello surprised me and just shook his head “No from
the looks of it, it will be over soon. So I’ll just see you when you get home
ok?” He said before lightly kissing my forehead. As Sanguinello walked away
leaving Leaf and I in a wake of silence, his shoulders were squared as he
walked with his head high before Leaf looked over at me. “You never told me
that you were married.” Leaf said quietly as he watched Sanguinello walk away.
“You never asked what I was, you just assumed that I wasn’t. Even with a ring you though I wasn't.” I replied levelly
while I watched my husband disappear but not before seeing his shoulders slump
down when I guess Sanguinello thought that he was out of view. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; line-height: 115%;">Leaf left before my break was over and I didn’t blame him
or try to get him to stay. I walked a fine line with our relationship this
whole time and tonight it felt like it was on the verge of crossing it. I never
in a million years would want to hurt Sanguinello but it went to my head every
time that Leaf would stroll through the gallery’s doors and lavish all of his
attention on me. By the end of the showing I wanted nothing more than to go
home and curl up in bed with Sanguinello, washing away tonight for a few hours
while we slept. But when I got home he just pulled away from and stupidly I
asked if he was mad at me.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; line-height: 115%;">“I don’t know, I’m just feeling a lot of things right
now. I don’t want to be that jealous guy that gets all pissed off when someone
shows their wife the time of day. But I could tell from the way he looked at
you that he really liked you and you kind of looked like you were looking the
same way at him. I’m just so scared to lose you Starry.” He said hesitantly as
he sat outside on the edge of one the lounge chairs looking more than perplexed
as he studied every detail of the balcony just to avoid me, a sharp change from
the guy who looked me right in the eyes only two hours ago. “Sanguinello, I
love you and only you. You know that right?” I questioned almost desperately but
it was true. There was only one guy that my heart belonged to and it was him.
He was my first in so many ways that what I felt for him I don’t think I could
ever accurately sum into words. As Sanguinello finally looked at me he gave me a small
crooked smile while pulling me over by my hand to kiss me briefly before he pulled away but only by an inch “Yeah, I know you do.
I’m just being stupid about this and a lot of things. Don’t worry about me.
Guess what? I got a job interview down at the animation studio.” </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; line-height: 115%;">Now back at work Leaf avoided me like the plague and I was
somewhat ok with that but honestly I did miss talking to him. Things at home
however seemed like they were on an unstoppable downfall. We found out from
Fina that his parents recently had another son and that under no circumstances Sanguinello
was supposed to have any contact with them or his new brother. I wish I could
say that he took this in stride but in reality he just crumbled for a while as
he moped around our place some more since he never got a call back after his
interview. Lately Sanguinello had a very short fuse one that even I wasn’t immune to it
seemed like anymore. I tried to be patient but it wasn’t always easy having my
head bitten off for no reason at all and I in turn would lash right back at him
which would ensue one of our larger fights. Fights that would go on for days as
our apartment seemed to become some sort of warzone that the both of us crept
around quietly side stepping the eggshells while avoiding the other during the
times we weren’t speaking to each other. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; line-height: 115%;">But things got better and once the initial shock and hurt
of his parent’s behavior began to wear off he started to act like his old self
again and things started to go back to the way they were. We made it through
our first rough patch still in one piece though our edges were a bit frayed and
cracked, as we nursed our proverbial wounds that we had given each other in the
heat of an argument. In a moment of attempting to patch things up between us I
bought him a chain to hang his ring on since he fiddled and fidgeted the
blasted thing whenever he was lost in his own thoughts which seemed like always
these days. “Here I got you a chain.” I said presenting it as I pulled it out
of the box it came in so I could hand it to him. “Since I know you don’t really
like wearing rings.” </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; line-height: 115%;">“Oh… I guess you noticed me doing that. Yeah um rings
always feel like they are strangling my fingers at any size they are.”
Sanguinello said sheepishly as he took the chain and slide the ring on. Helping
him with the clasp I didn’t remove my arms from around him when I was done. Its funny how quickly in an instant one could go with their feelings. One moment you're on the verge of hating each other and the next moment you can't bare the thought of living with out the other. But in
this particular small moment of calm just sitting here with him on the lounge chair together feeling the slight breeze in the night's air Sanguinello smiled at me as his ring now rested on his chest, glinting in the light that shined from inside and I didn’t want it to end just yet. </span></span></div>
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<br /></div>cupcakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08521399676517388209noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5466120303155862835.post-85436768037940500772012-05-17T10:11:00.001-07:002012-05-17T10:11:10.130-07:00My Love For Evermore Part 1Something for the intermission in between chapters. This has nothing to do with the story, just had to do it for my love of this song and these two.<br />
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♫<strong>I’d like to pack this in, and take you to the stars</strong><br /><strong> We’ll eat at fancy restaurants and drive in fancy cars</strong><br /><strong> We tried our luck, we made a buck, so lean back have some fun.♫</strong><br />
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<strong> ♫</strong><em>Oh yes my love, but first just this last one♫</em><br />
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<em> </em><strong><em>♫We stood on a cliff in a starless night</em></strong><br /><strong><em> I held your hand in my mine…♫</em></strong><br />
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<strong><em> ♫</em></strong><strong><em>So stand by me with all your heart, </em></strong><br /><strong><em> I need you by my side♫</em></strong><br />
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<strong><em>♫</em></strong><strong>Over the river is cold and black </strong><br /><strong> and the bottom is a long way down♫</strong><br />
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<strong> ♫</strong><em>Another one, going underground…♫</em><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOxXYl4QaQtutQ70CYB72xcA7BmT0gT0rRckV6yCKA48oSYtw9jgB_wNMZvHzj0d7b1dk-iAfKNetZJ_SfoKWPODYa_JYdVY6Xak0I_ald0FXayjjfmGu-4agNrNzWow7IdyGAli9yrsg/s1600/Screenshot-1095.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOxXYl4QaQtutQ70CYB72xcA7BmT0gT0rRckV6yCKA48oSYtw9jgB_wNMZvHzj0d7b1dk-iAfKNetZJ_SfoKWPODYa_JYdVY6Xak0I_ald0FXayjjfmGu-4agNrNzWow7IdyGAli9yrsg/s400/Screenshot-1095.png" width="400" /></a></div>
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<strong> Here is the song if you wanted to have a listen. It is by far my favorite duet. I just love how different their voices are, his is all gritty while her's is sort of dreamy. Its just beautiful.</strong><br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/XV0b2zRtLUw?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>cupcakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08521399676517388209noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5466120303155862835.post-39281878584386096302012-05-11T08:29:00.000-07:002012-05-11T08:49:02.382-07:00The Meringue Rainbowcy~A Legacy Gone Technicolor Chapter 12 Generation Starry<br />
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Stepping inside to my grandmother’s old apartment with
Sanguinello was like stepping into someone’s personal time capsule. Furniture
from her heyday was placed in the same place that it had been over 40 years
ago. Strangely there was no dust on anything and the apartment had a fresh
almost tropical smell to it. Bewildered I looked at Sanguinello who was already
looking around suspiciously. My grandfather Fade had told me that when they had
moved that they had only taken personal things such as clothes, and my father’s
toys, all the furniture was supposedly donated to a charity. Yet here it was
all of it looking the same as the day they moved out. On the terrace there was
a garden… That looked as if it had been painstaking maintained? The grill was
polished without the slightest bit of rust on its metal. The cushions on the
outdoor furniture looked fresh and new, not even the tiniest bit of fraying
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Stepping closer into the apartment we could see the kitchen
was spotless and clean with a highchair in it. The metal fixtures all gleamed
in the sunlight that poured through the many windows. There was a computer on
the computer desk left as if its owner would return any minute. Like the rest
of the apartment it lacked a thick dust coating and time worn look one would
think an apartment that sat vacate for almost over a half century would be. The
sound of footsteps coming down the steps echoed quietly through the silent
apartment. Curiously we both turn around at the noise and were greeted by the
sight of a surprised middle aged maid. “You’re not supposed to be in here. How
did you get in here? What do you want?”</div>
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“Who are you and what are you doing in my grandmother’s
apartment?” I asked brazenly instead of answering either of her questions,
since I had ever right to be here as I owned the place. “Oh it’s you! You’re
grandmother told me that you would be inheriting this place when she passed
away. Sorry my vision isn’t so well anymore otherwise I would have recognized
you. I’m Mrs. Jubilee, I’ve been your grandmother’s housekeeper here for years.
It has been my job to keep this apartment clean and exactly the way it is for
when she would visit here.”</div>
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I won’t say that we were completely unsurprised that my
grandmother still came here after she moved because that would be a total lie. When
my father saw the apartment he was completely shocked at the state that it was
in. Like I he was under the impression that it probably had sat for almost half
of a decade completely inhibited. He thought it was a joke when I told him on
the phone later that night after I had first seen it that it was in perfect
condition. But now looking through what used to be his nursery he could see
that it was just as I said. “I was told that we only really took clothes and
personal things, that all the furniture had been donated or sold. Everything in
the new house was new since they had it all decorated and furnished by some
designer that was famous at the time. I don’t even remember this room. The
nursery that I had in my baby pictures at their house went along with the rest
of the teal and grey travesty of a scheme.” He said as we went down to the
basement to check out what had been left in storage. “I can’t imagine while she
would keep all of this like this or not even tell me when I found out about my
father. This place is the one place that connected us, the one place that I
knew him as my dad and she still kept it a secret.” </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS4NRcBoQL3PuB8R82ma51dl7DJH6KWWPgReqV8Key2sjCCXEPOO55_jUzzm9wBMAoP7_sp0-Rj6DzACDnpb8hI5EP0Vbx_vhvJX7HZJETeFrTC_VjdO5pyAjF1AkGIenEJIlF0V3-OSk/s1600/Screenshot-956.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS4NRcBoQL3PuB8R82ma51dl7DJH6KWWPgReqV8Key2sjCCXEPOO55_jUzzm9wBMAoP7_sp0-Rj6DzACDnpb8hI5EP0Vbx_vhvJX7HZJETeFrTC_VjdO5pyAjF1AkGIenEJIlF0V3-OSk/s400/Screenshot-956.png" width="400" /></a></div>
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Lying in wait was another surprise hidden in the depths of
the dark lower quarters of the building. Tucked away neatly in boxes we found
were pictures, letters or just about anything that tied my father’s real
father’s name to my grandmother’s. Looking at each picture all my father could
really do was sigh bitterly as he flipped through each one. Encased in time
there were a number of them that consisted of my grandmother and my biological
grandfather. Growing up our father had always said that he was our grandfather
but I and nor any of my siblings ever took him seriously it just all seemed
like one big joke, like one of the ex-presidents was really his father. But now
staring up at us from glossy times long gone it seemed like a joke that the two
of them had the last laugh with.</div>
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Decorating wise there really wasn’t much to do besides
painting, and painting we did a lot of. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9NTU1HrW9QVLAAL94jUBKmTl5bWHj18bkwImRldHd7djo_puVJDYOLKXJNi73cPzYYaK34vWlm8Dj36qwg06jhXis9HEo4MUwlRCqOLkQuRiy84_d6esgBKU3p9wZ95QoOPy3qkBZtmY/s1600/Screenshot-1008.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9NTU1HrW9QVLAAL94jUBKmTl5bWHj18bkwImRldHd7djo_puVJDYOLKXJNi73cPzYYaK34vWlm8Dj36qwg06jhXis9HEo4MUwlRCqOLkQuRiy84_d6esgBKU3p9wZ95QoOPy3qkBZtmY/s400/Screenshot-1008.png" width="400" /></a></div>
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Anything and just about everything that
I could paint I did. My grandmother surrounded herself with the finer things in
life and practically everything was of the best quality. And Sanguinello and I
were very well aware of the fact that anything that we replaced was probably
not going to be as good as what we had. So most of the stuff stayed as we added
in some personal touches here and there with a few rolls of fabric and a lot of
paint, trying to forge our own identity in a land that had someone’s life
blazed a crossed it. Finally painting over the window frames which the previous
building owner did not allow for some reason or another, as the superintendent
informed us. But all in all we were both very happy with the apartment and more
than thrilled to be officially living together.</div>
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Life living with Sanguinello was somewhat different than us
staying in the dorms together. It was more impulsive and free. We found
ourselves almost acting like teens left alone for the first time by their
parents the first two weeks. Together we must have lived mainly on junk food
before I stepped up to the plate and attempted to cook. I wish I could say that
I had absorbed some of what Can-Can tried to teach me. My attempts were often
followed by burnt messes and a few times small fires that Sanguinello often
saved me and the rest of the building from. It didn’t take long before
Sanguinello decided that it would be better for all if he did the cooking while
I did the clean up afterwards.</div>
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Lying in bed together the warm afternoon sun shone high
through the windows as we began to awaken one weekend. Regretfully I knew our
day should be starting but I didn’t want to get up just yet so I snuggled a
little closer to his warm body as his arm tightened around me back in response
as he also began to stir. As I looked up at his sleepy smile as he looked back
at me I was amazed at how much I could love someone before he began to move
around. Taking the sheet that covered us
he encased it around us, dimming the midmorning light that challenged the thin
soft fabric. “What are you doing?” I asked him from the confines of our little encampment
as he loomed over me. “Blocking the rest of the world out.” He replied with a
smile as if it was the most obvious thing as I waited for him to ‘duh’ me but
it didn’t come. </div>
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“It’s just a sheet though.” I said unconvinced that anything
would be blocked out with the thin sheet that the sun was trying it’s best to
penetrate, a battle that was won witnessed by my very own eyes. “Didn’t you
ever do this as a child? Try to hide away from everyone in your own little
world.” He asked curiously as he looked down at me. The air
began to feel warm making it seem smaller under the sheet, like the thin fabric
was closing in around us. Trying to focus on something else besides my sudden
case of claustrophobia my mind ran through many things in an instant but only
one stuck out and that was that one of my painting projects didn’t do that well
in class while this other girl that had no talent got the highest grade. I like
others was sticking to the rumor that she was sleeping with the teacher since
she shamelessly flirted and giggled with him anytime he gave her an ounce of
attention. Though it still didn’t help the self-pity feelings I was having and
all I really wanted to hear at that moment was something reassuring from
Sanguinello. “Do you think anyone would notice if I would just suddenly
disappear? Or do you think their worlds would continue to keep turning without
missing a single beat?” I asked him thinking of all the work I had done for
that project had just been one how big waste. Sometimes it felt like everything
I did I could never be good enough that there was always going to be someone
out there that was going to be better than me.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvavND6hdLRFXyu5vxak6YAC4goyrt2a0aLlKLaE0Jg_3HOG5cbDS2zgQsFKpooMCWYo9H8VzaLZVfuowCTGaFlA_cc-K9GY18ramQjBZB7cyO5sjudDuG0t26HT134ghSQli9VFikpR0/s1600/Screenshot-966.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvavND6hdLRFXyu5vxak6YAC4goyrt2a0aLlKLaE0Jg_3HOG5cbDS2zgQsFKpooMCWYo9H8VzaLZVfuowCTGaFlA_cc-K9GY18ramQjBZB7cyO5sjudDuG0t26HT134ghSQli9VFikpR0/s400/Screenshot-966.png" width="400" /></a></div>
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I couldn’t see pass the decent grade I got all I could see
instead was the grade that I didn’t get. Looking rather serious he brushed all
the hair that had fallen in my face when he pulled the sheet over us, so he
could look me dead on but that didn’t seem enough so he pulled me up until we
were both sitting up. Pressing his forehead against mine Sanguinello said in a
quiet voice “Don’t. I don’t ever want you to feel like that. I would miss you;
you’re my dot of color in a world of greys. Sometimes I think you’re the only
one that understands me. And I love you. I don't know what I'd do if I lost you.”</div>
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Late one night during the early Fall the windows were opened
slightly as we hoped to get a breeze throughout the apartment since the air
conditioner broke sending the whole building into a mini heat wave. Sanguinello
woke me up without hesitation for the classes I had the next day in my final
year. “Hey Starry… Starry, Starry, Starry… Wake up.” He loudly whispered while
I reluctantly opened one eye to see him hovering over me on the bed fully
clothed as if he was ready to go out somewhere. “What is it now Sanguinello?” I
asked blinking my eyes before I rubbed them as I tried to get them to focus a
little more in the dark room. “I had the best idea ever that we have to do
right now. So you have to get up right now and get dressed.” He said in a very
serious tone as he got up close to my face as I groaned “What is your wonderful
idea now? At almost 1 am when I have class tomorrow and have to be awake in
less than 6 hours?” </div>
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“Tattoos. We should get some tattoos I found a place that is
still open right now where we could get them.” Sanguinello answered in a way as
if he was verbally unveiling the contents on a silver platter and I soon found
myself stumbling around as I tried to quickly get dressed. It wasn’t until we
were in the tattoo parlor that I began to wonder what we were doing as it dawned
on me that we were really indeed in a tattoo parlor. Sanguinello excitedly
talked things over with the artist while I looked around at the tattoo flash
that was plastered all over the walls and large bound photo albums lined the
counter like testaments of the artist’s skill. </div>
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Nervously I wondered over to the brightly decorated lamented
glossy pages. As my eyes sifted through some vulgar ones, typical roses and
dolphins they found a simple one without any frills. Capturing my attention my
imagination quickly sprang into gear and it immediately started to change in my
mind to something tempting me to go along with Sanguinello and actually get a
tattoo. The words found my mouth before my brain could say no and I found
myself asking “Is it possible if I give you a drawing could you tattoo it on
me?”</div>
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What does it feel like to get a tattoo? Was a question that
I would be asked by anyone without one in the years to come but I will just
answer that now. The first time is usually always the worst. The second the needle
hits your skin it stings and then as they move the needle forming shapes upon
your skin it kind of feels like they are cutting you. But most of all its just
really stings and by the end of it your already thinking of your next one. By
the time both of us were finished the sun was just beginning to light the sky. Since
I only had a few hours left before my classes begun and now where nearly enough
time to get any sleep we headed in search of a place that was serving breakfast
at this time as our tattoos began to itch. Though times were not always good and one really bad one
happened one night that Mizu and Toff was staying with us as they came back to
the city for the weekend to visit and checkout our new place. We had went to a
dinner out by the docks that was well known for its pancakes. All was going
well as we look forward to devouring a number of them ourselves but we didn’t
even make it out of the parking lot and to the front door before a shard of
Sanguinello’s fragmented past made his presence known in the most obnoxious
way. </div>
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“Hey look who it is! Its Stuttering San! ” a male’s voice
shouted at our small group from behind us. Turning around I had no clue whom
that guy or any of his friends were, but it was apparent that Sanguinello, Mizu
and Toff did. Immediately even before I had a chance to retort to the guy Toff
grabbed Sanguinello. “Oh fudge no, no, no. Don’t man, just don’t. Let’s just go
in and get something to eat. Just ignore them.” Mizu stood glancing back at
Sanguinello and the guy worriedly while Sanguinello just looked rather
emotionless and blank instinctively I wrapped my arm around him as he did the same, gripping my side almost
painfully. </div>
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“Who is that?” I asked but no one seemed to take notice of
me so I didn’t receive an answer. “You know though after you left town you got
a new nickname. It’s a shame that your mother has such a big mouth otherwise we
would have never found out what happened to Psycho San. Yeah that’s right
you’re the guy that put his own father in the hospital in high school.” He
taunted Sanguinello brazenly without any hint of subtlety. “What are you doing
so far from home Hammie? Huckleberry Sprigs is far away from here.” Toff asked,
desperate to change the conversation from where it had been going. “Well unlike
the likes of you guys I actually go to a real college and not some art school.”
Hammie replied smugly as his friends chuckled. Hammie’s smile spread further
through his face after noticing that Sanguinello’s hand was laced in mine “Wow,
she must be crazy too, for her to be with you. But I don’t mind if a girl is a
bit crazy in one area of her life, if you know what I mean. Tell me what you
are doing with a guy like him? What exactly do you find attractive in that? Or
maybe you’re just easy and don’t have any standards so you’ll go out with trash
like that. So darlin’ are you a bit crazy in the sack and looking for a better
time than what you are having with him? Because I can give you something that
he probably can’t”</div>
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There was a pause before I even registered that my hand was
now loose and free. The blatantly disrespectful remark must have stunned not
only me but Toff as well. By the time I looked over to where Sanguinello was
standing he was already gone from there and hitting the pavement using Hammie
for a cushion as he brought him down. Scrambling to the mess that was my
boyfriend and that berryhole though Toff and I were quick on our feet but not
enough before a full out physical altercation ensued. I flanked Sanguinello’s
left side as Toff took his right in our efforts to pull them apart, while
Hammie’s friends mirrored our actions with him. Dragging Sanguinello to his
feet his eyes were glazed over as he began to belligerently shout “I’M GOING TO
FUDGING KILL YOU! LET ME THE FUDGE GO! I’M GOING TO FUDGING KILL YOU!” </div>
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Struggling against us and now Mizu he continued to shout and
by now a small crowd had gathered outside. Whispers filled the night as pointed
glances and fingers were pointed in our direction. “We’ve got to get him out of
here.” Mizu said without even a hint of quietness to her voice but it didn’t
matter it’s not like Sanguinello heard her. The only thing he cared about right
now was killing Hammie even though Hammie and his friends had gone. It was our
turn now to drag Sanguinello literally kicking and screaming away and as we
were doing it a picture began to form in my head of his last night in his
parent’s house. It was two blocks later that Sanguinello was finally starting
to calm down though the moment we began to loosen our grip on him; he tried to
unsuccessfully break free as he verbally protested though not addressing any of
us by our names. So we carried him the rest of the way and about three blocks
to back to our apartment he began to laugh still looking like he wasn’t seeing
the world clearly around him. Sure we
got stares but honestly in the past few years that I had lived in the city as
sight such as ours wasn’t the oddest thing I’ve seen going down the street. </div>
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As I helped get Sanguinello back to our place I could feel
myself hiding in fear deep inside my calm demeanor as his words from when we
first started dating slowly washed over me like a bucket of ice. <i>“So what else
do you want to know or is that enough for now? Because I can tell you a lot
more that would probably scare you away.”</i> Because I don’t know if I’d really
still be here after witnessing an outburst like that in the beginning. Like
right now logically everything and my tired muscles was telling me to leave,
running down the street and to the first train to Sweet Valley. But my heart
just wanted to take care of him to do anything that would make him feel alright.
No one mentioned the fight or anything that had to do with us having to haul
him back to the apartment the rest of the time Mizu and Toff stayed with us but
by the end of the weekend I was dying to say something.</div>
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“Sanguinello I uh kind of want to talk about what happened
this um weekend. You know down at the diner…” I tried as delicately as I
possibly could approach the subject Sunday evening while Sanguinello appeared to be zoned
out on the couch.</div>
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“Yeah I kind of lost it there didn’t I?” he replied with a
hollowed voice as the air hung thick between us. “But I thought that because
you were on medication that everything would be alright?” </div>
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“Medication is not always a failsafe it just helps… a lot
but it isn’t a hundred percent cure. Sometimes it doesn’t always work or
sometimes if you’ve been on it for a while it needs to be increased or you need
to find a new one. But it’s never really a perfect cure for everything.” He
explained miserably as I processed everything in my head. Truthfully it felt
like we were going in circles and I just wasn’t getting it about this part of
him. But I still loved him and the thought of leaving him was even just too
much for me to handle. So nothing changed and I just accepted that, that this was
who he was and I tried to love him a bit more for all the lack of love that he
had throughout his life.</div>
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<br /></div>cupcakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08521399676517388209noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5466120303155862835.post-34203875106037794642012-05-07T18:09:00.001-07:002012-05-07T18:09:47.577-07:00Jumping into the world of pose makingFor those that haven't peeked at my simblr's pictures I've been learning how to make custom poses. I've mostly been trying to make crying and uncomfortable poses since that's what it seems like is lack(to me that is)<br />
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And yes there is an update in the works just need to take pictures since everything is finished being written so look for that to be posted in a day or so!cupcakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08521399676517388209noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5466120303155862835.post-3741014764817265012012-04-09T11:55:00.000-07:002012-04-09T11:55:47.075-07:00The Meringue Rainbowcy-A Legacy Gone Technicolor I Remember When<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <o:OfficeDocumentSettings> <o:RelyOnVML/> <o:AllowPNG/> </o:OfficeDocumentSettings> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:WordDocument> <w:View>Normal</w:View> <w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:TrackMoves/> <w:TrackFormatting/> <w:PunctuationKerning/> <w:ValidateAgainstSchemas/> <w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:IgnoreMixedContent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:DoNotPromoteQF/> <w:LidThemeOther>EN-US</w:LidThemeOther> <w:LidThemeAsian>X-NONE</w:LidThemeAsian> <w:LidThemeComplexScript>X-NONE</w:LidThemeComplexScript> <w:Compatibility> <w:BreakWrappedTables/> <w:SnapToGridInCell/> <w:WrapTextWithPunct/> <w:UseAsianBreakRules/> <w:DontGrowAutofit/> <w:SplitPgBreakAndParaMark/> <w:EnableOpenTypeKerning/> <w:DontFlipMirrorIndents/> <w:OverrideTableStyleHps/> </w:Compatibility> <m:mathPr> <m:mathFont m:val="Cambria Math"/> <m:brkBin m:val="before"/> <m:brkBinSub m:val="--"/> <m:smallFrac m:val="off"/> <m:dispDef/> <m:lMargin m:val="0"/> <m:rMargin m:val="0"/> <m:defJc m:val="centerGroup"/> <m:wrapIndent m:val="1440"/> <m:intLim m:val="subSup"/> <m:naryLim m:val="undOvr"/> </m:mathPr></w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:LatentStyles DefLockedState="false" DefUnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo2869olp5d4CkcFjvFPuZDeBpD6kmStsXQ4QA3obJj7q_qVie5v_aTx0OCTur02Ynkc3AgMGcs5N85q8-hoVpNJdgwYOO57g17kv_ZFRxEnFBnVYmyyiJXgBbqdxkbq85yZMNAWlvWwM/s1600/Siggy6.0.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="72" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo2869olp5d4CkcFjvFPuZDeBpD6kmStsXQ4QA3obJj7q_qVie5v_aTx0OCTur02Ynkc3AgMGcs5N85q8-hoVpNJdgwYOO57g17kv_ZFRxEnFBnVYmyyiJXgBbqdxkbq85yZMNAWlvWwM/s320/Siggy6.0.png" width="320" /></a></div><a name='more'></a><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">“Porifirio where’s Midnight?” I repeated my question shakily using his full name as if that would help, after it came apparent that he was the last one off the plane though he just shook his head while refusing to meet my eyes. “Wisteria we... we uh… we need to talk.” </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpEidAioIHi1HdItCS3l7Jo4FuuNzjn7YKX6GY-MU3RrFiLVvAzL20dosDh1VrAYaIY_OlfTDcdRUL35VrhCXCS6V-Wk8TjUSDGNq8jkfHf3SnEo0nNwz7uNDSEYDs_L-J_HI-CqmnfM4/s1600/Screenshot-556.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpEidAioIHi1HdItCS3l7Jo4FuuNzjn7YKX6GY-MU3RrFiLVvAzL20dosDh1VrAYaIY_OlfTDcdRUL35VrhCXCS6V-Wk8TjUSDGNq8jkfHf3SnEo0nNwz7uNDSEYDs_L-J_HI-CqmnfM4/s400/Screenshot-556.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">In a blur it all went by, the quickly packing, the plane rides and the layovers. The insignificant details folded into each other creating a hazy memory in which I barely was able to recall afterwards exact elements of how I got to Setra a little over 24 hours later. Porfirio dropped my bags down by the front door as soon as we got into their house and I almost jumped at the sound of the thump that it had made hitting the floor. I had never been to his house here and it was almost surreal seeing it here now without him right next to me. We had always made plans for me to come out and visit him but something always got in the way, things never worked out and we never worked out. “You can crash on the couch if you don’t want to stay upstairs.” My brother said as he looked around the downstairs with me as if seeing it for the first time too. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOkOQ8za7hVK9dU4pGeeF0wYGwZ4TtXvoCKZ1-1KBLoAt2RiDk8KxxeDW3ELc3JKym__DutoXnlS-SKZve5Y9jOwwswtpKn9jGexGtgxdE42EPK_lUTYfpsYCLT1uaYexdjSgdwyZoqVE/s1600/Screenshot-605.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOkOQ8za7hVK9dU4pGeeF0wYGwZ4TtXvoCKZ1-1KBLoAt2RiDk8KxxeDW3ELc3JKym__DutoXnlS-SKZve5Y9jOwwswtpKn9jGexGtgxdE42EPK_lUTYfpsYCLT1uaYexdjSgdwyZoqVE/s400/Screenshot-605.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I didn’t even have it in me to be angry at him for not just picking up the phone and calling me as soon as this happened instead I had listened to his reasoning. Which made sense, I would have jumped on the first plane I could have without a second thought and basically demanded that they let me on to the base. And that wouldn’t have worked at all. As far as the military was concerned being just a girlfriend I had no right to even go and see him on my own. “No its fine, I think I’ll take the upstairs it might be a bit comforting or completely depressing. I’m not sure which but I guess you’ll find out tomorrow.” I replied as warm tears rose up only to spill over, running down my face streaking it with my mascara. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrLfB1t8oMsAHTdQdQva2xmA8P1rg1sQf5eVbbjXd0WpNht2J_uvK4wtUH1VYw_U3ZVxjeg8QlmOcAe_G0weV4W1bm0n3imTfA2udk58J_1EmY2HH1fFeL2Au-kSKUzzzzzOi4YAYBzVQ/s1600/Screenshot-606.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrLfB1t8oMsAHTdQdQva2xmA8P1rg1sQf5eVbbjXd0WpNht2J_uvK4wtUH1VYw_U3ZVxjeg8QlmOcAe_G0weV4W1bm0n3imTfA2udk58J_1EmY2HH1fFeL2Au-kSKUzzzzzOi4YAYBzVQ/s400/Screenshot-606.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">“Ria…” My brother trailed off not knowing what to say or do beyond giving me a hug. “What if I lose him? What if he never wakes up? What am I going to do without him?” I cried as I buried my face into his shoulder. But he had no answers, as much as I might be losing the man that I had loved for most of my life he could be losing his best friend, someone that had always been like a brother to him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And this was almost as painful as it was for me, for him. “I don’t know sis, but you should get some sleep or at least try to. Tomorrow is going to be a long day.” </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifCJxX5_HkuOy8DQgmkCFV604xknxP9TuxcHL3O-PtKeX1VwVWECVsDRqY5dwSr-n91qp6L4hfJz2dodpraI-XYi_jCmBqcDdr8Jr71jGIloIHwvbnwMEFKxSEbJOJYpcSeLBywTlcW8g/s1600/Screenshot-611.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifCJxX5_HkuOy8DQgmkCFV604xknxP9TuxcHL3O-PtKeX1VwVWECVsDRqY5dwSr-n91qp6L4hfJz2dodpraI-XYi_jCmBqcDdr8Jr71jGIloIHwvbnwMEFKxSEbJOJYpcSeLBywTlcW8g/s400/Screenshot-611.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">By the time I made it upstairs I felt completely drained as if I have nothing left to give. My tears had run dry as so did my emotions. I felt almost numb as I climbed the stairs, the slates barely making a noise as I slowly walked up. Porfirio had gone to sleep not even 10 minutes ago and as I passed by his open door I could see him already sprawled out on top of his bed asleep. It always amazed me how he was able to fall asleep so easily but just the same as easily as that sleep might have come at the slightest sound, a drop of a pin he would wake up spending the rest of the night awake and sleepless. So quietly as I could I closed his door and carried on to Midnight’s room. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH5NMzO9TaZeD3C_fyy10ofLkfg_05ds2NdswoGzP3QgOC8D96_8-x6SB0sDwKiaDLRg2kts_F9nPWOAwQPeiodqh4H2t5XjQ6bAL4f-YRG0F0ln7_Xglc2szBFzeKtpZH-zucXIg0Biw/s1600/Screenshot-612.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH5NMzO9TaZeD3C_fyy10ofLkfg_05ds2NdswoGzP3QgOC8D96_8-x6SB0sDwKiaDLRg2kts_F9nPWOAwQPeiodqh4H2t5XjQ6bAL4f-YRG0F0ln7_Xglc2szBFzeKtpZH-zucXIg0Biw/s400/Screenshot-612.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">It looked as it always did whenever we would webcam except now there were a few neatly folded stacks of clothes on his bed and a bag on the floor. He had been packing early it seemed like he was excited for this trip but I didn’t have a clue why this trip home was so different from the others. We were back together once again after taking some time apart. This summer was supposed to be a summer of fun spent down at the beach during the day and nights out on the town at some restaurants in Briocheporte. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiasEHsXnJ5fSZZXnY2Y31PJButTKEdGNX_nSho8KOKm0OI1NsZ_UTUcYQHJJ_Y3MkjFr4WdQpB3tC8lM5x_PIK4Nbg7tdfHE7NDEHiktqo-xaydE6EJe6Cm6PT0TeZXCIkhTT36X5V-UQ/s1600/Screenshot-614.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiasEHsXnJ5fSZZXnY2Y31PJButTKEdGNX_nSho8KOKm0OI1NsZ_UTUcYQHJJ_Y3MkjFr4WdQpB3tC8lM5x_PIK4Nbg7tdfHE7NDEHiktqo-xaydE6EJe6Cm6PT0TeZXCIkhTT36X5V-UQ/s400/Screenshot-614.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Sitting on his bed I looked around the room to the surf board in the corner that never got any use these days, to the gym bag and shoes right next to it. As my eyes drifted over each and every item sifting through the memories that were tied to most of them and the few that I had never seen before, my eyes were drawn to something on his dresser. The small black velvet box on his dresser seemed so out of place in Midnight’s room. Wait… what? I quickly thought to myself as my fingers fumbled to open it up. A little voice in the back of my mind shrilly told me not to but I did not pay any attention to it nor did I heed in trying to open the little tightly closed box as my fingers slipped over the velvet as kept trying.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHd7aOQifqbW0gBlEOrwqmm2IQOkcZSRukxvC2Tb2m0iol4ryXnFApo15Y7ybvgY3ObDFg8-eJcwo6d_cZI8zRB8QxvnuKUHVrzE5ZbBGz6uc-q0uNPn-9JyBfkdjblsaMyeKqtuRA3pA/s1600/Screenshot-615.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHd7aOQifqbW0gBlEOrwqmm2IQOkcZSRukxvC2Tb2m0iol4ryXnFApo15Y7ybvgY3ObDFg8-eJcwo6d_cZI8zRB8QxvnuKUHVrzE5ZbBGz6uc-q0uNPn-9JyBfkdjblsaMyeKqtuRA3pA/s400/Screenshot-615.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">When it finally did open I gasped at what I saw. Nestled in between the satin that filled and lined the interior of the box was a ring. The gemstone sparkled in the overhead light while the metal gleamed. It was more beautiful than piece of jewelry that I had ever seen. He was going to propose I begun to realize after the shock had worn off. He was going to propose. He. Was. Going. To. Propose. The words repeated in my head over and over as I sunk down on to his bed. My body tried to muster up the tears that weren’t coming as I collapsed on my side, curling up in a ball gripping the opened box in my hand as a wail desperately tried to depart from my lips but only a strangled sound of wretched suffering escaped.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhH0KJTaVYUpxYVV10VYWs_Pb_Lr3XEPplMEpvznoHTU_XYUNyA6bfOw3WoZ_Yj9zSiGdMCjg2iqc9cWVmVUYOyt8lf9KoZ09acX8k7MwWtuF2ePOnmuJZBgaX_8BndECRhqVMwXfdsRE/s1600/Screenshot-599.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhH0KJTaVYUpxYVV10VYWs_Pb_Lr3XEPplMEpvznoHTU_XYUNyA6bfOw3WoZ_Yj9zSiGdMCjg2iqc9cWVmVUYOyt8lf9KoZ09acX8k7MwWtuF2ePOnmuJZBgaX_8BndECRhqVMwXfdsRE/s400/Screenshot-599.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">As the night wore on I was soon found by sleep though it was anything but a relief from the waking world. Broken and filled with horrible dreams that slipped my mind as soon as my eyes opened. I was still cocooned and trapped in the feelings that remained from the dreams. When I finally awoke for good early the next morning I looked the same as I felt. With a frown on my face and bags under my eyes I would have be normal completely fazed by my appearance but right now it was the last thing on my mind. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxkCX4VZox4J6oV40oLVfz68cNKCj8El0_agMxunuX0V8LdUU6YN4rWleMHHhhiHKXFZC_F_kSKVBBhZ7jp_CFOenfa08olX1xsyjR7gCLr77D7gq_FKCPltbP6XTu-IjBIeO81H3Meow/s1600/Screenshot-617.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxkCX4VZox4J6oV40oLVfz68cNKCj8El0_agMxunuX0V8LdUU6YN4rWleMHHhhiHKXFZC_F_kSKVBBhZ7jp_CFOenfa08olX1xsyjR7gCLr77D7gq_FKCPltbP6XTu-IjBIeO81H3Meow/s400/Screenshot-617.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Time continued on painfully and by the end of the first week I took an extended leave from my job. I was only a spa receptionist but I still couldn’t just disappear without a word. The first few times seeing him was the hardest. It was hard to remember that there was still life in him when from at a glance it seemed like he was completely void of it. But the constant beeping of the machines and what seemed like a rotating door of nurses and orderlies coming in to keep an eye on his vitals and help move him around reassured me that somewhere in that shell of a body Midnight was still there. They took pity on me and allowed me stay from the start of visiting hours until the end. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWOCXH3JKLPkG0Duxougy3FqjkIO8K7Ct7NWNfG3FwgI0xrjZylAcP24PjKZYGs4IBl9aRHZo7OlUcy355n-Qbm7n-TklRbWk59kQnRYpS5mS70ENNTKIboTsN62HaJLdc7fTeADoRA7g/s1600/Screenshot-622.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWOCXH3JKLPkG0Duxougy3FqjkIO8K7Ct7NWNfG3FwgI0xrjZylAcP24PjKZYGs4IBl9aRHZo7OlUcy355n-Qbm7n-TklRbWk59kQnRYpS5mS70ENNTKIboTsN62HaJLdc7fTeADoRA7g/s400/Screenshot-622.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">But as nice as everyone was and being handled with kids gloves by everyone there was a breaking point that as the days passed by I felt like I was hurling to at break neck speeds. Weeks had gone by and as it soon hit the third my nerves were raw from having the figurative band aid that I put on every night when I left with Porfirio to go back home ripped off every morning when I returned. Laying my head on his chest I could hear his heart beating like it did every day. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsIiM0Sb5NRm7mI_qIlYbBNCCeJxvkGaWRecgrB31OvJOlvp6DgKyC0Mg6Dlpke70HYMMwIJtR4O1C1uIAsXyan8Jc4uEloT4eEDAzMkDhUNfc2FD5qt9LNhu46LLz1nH6mYuebgLQYd0/s1600/Screenshot-626.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsIiM0Sb5NRm7mI_qIlYbBNCCeJxvkGaWRecgrB31OvJOlvp6DgKyC0Mg6Dlpke70HYMMwIJtR4O1C1uIAsXyan8Jc4uEloT4eEDAzMkDhUNfc2FD5qt9LNhu46LLz1nH6mYuebgLQYd0/s400/Screenshot-626.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">“I’m done with the breakups and get-back-togethers. All I want is you, it’s all I ever wanted.” I began to cry feeling the large wet tears roll down my cheeks blurring my view as I clasped his hand tightly as if it could keep him from slipping away from me again. “Please wake up, I swear to Berry if you do I won’t start a fight anymore over trivial things like whether or not you looked at that girl or if I took your last piece of gum.” I laughed as a memory quickly jotted through my mind while I pushed away the tears with the back of my one hand as I still gripping his. “I love you. I love you, you silly boy who just had to go and do this. I know I’ve probably said it a hundred times in the course of our relationship but I’ve never felt it more than I do now. I love you Midnight.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha1amEgxmqXuTPSiOpeinFS25ooFZsBeWCKXuVFRF3DD40tw2jkpMSaj_QZ4_I4bBHTPq3yL67z0gIQQERzB3YfJjQDghYodKj6_NcVGvk6WQj79aAoFi5lAVwj8jow90MBIdB2mKfPco/s1600/Screenshot-627.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha1amEgxmqXuTPSiOpeinFS25ooFZsBeWCKXuVFRF3DD40tw2jkpMSaj_QZ4_I4bBHTPq3yL67z0gIQQERzB3YfJjQDghYodKj6_NcVGvk6WQj79aAoFi5lAVwj8jow90MBIdB2mKfPco/s400/Screenshot-627.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">“Please come back to me I swear I’ll be a better person. I’ll be nicer to everyone including maybe Starry. I’ll make breakfasts every Sunday morning, I’ll remember to put my shoes away so you won’t trip over them when you come home. I won’t make you watch anymore romance movies with me or ask you when I’m feeling subconscious about myself if you thinks she’s pretty when all I want you to say is no. I’ll do anything just as long as you come back.” I promised as I finally removed my hand from his to stroke his face as he deeply inhaled “Flowers… I smell flowers.” Midnight murmured raspily, the sound of his voice scratched along his vocal cords as he tried speak “I’m not dead am I?”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizgNapJHVfs5LtUMownbPHeCxxNinF6vhwQry4xMfGbfB3I9Vq5rwY636WLSJWkp3_8MVYU1tgJ6Z4Dwhg-_QiDUoDEs7IdJ6dKt8hPXwqAeLY4zDtsCcnrcVzahgBZZDLAW2mXkztR00/s1600/Screenshot-630.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizgNapJHVfs5LtUMownbPHeCxxNinF6vhwQry4xMfGbfB3I9Vq5rwY636WLSJWkp3_8MVYU1tgJ6Z4Dwhg-_QiDUoDEs7IdJ6dKt8hPXwqAeLY4zDtsCcnrcVzahgBZZDLAW2mXkztR00/s320/Screenshot-630.png" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"> “No you’re not. Don't you ever, ever leave me again.” I answered my sight was once again lost by fresh tears but this time they were happy tears as I grabbed up his limp body almost motionless body into my arms.“Then why are you crying? You’re too pretty to cry.” He gasped as he slowly opened his eyes to look at me, his brown eyes looked at me just as warmly as the day he left while I came to my senses and gingerly lowered him back on to his bed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Listlessly he laid still in the hospital bed looking up at me; the stubble on his cheeks had grown in to the beginnings of a beard. “You remember the first time we met?” I asked as his round about compliment took me back many years to when I was a school girl, the day I met Midnight. He had just moved to the neighborhood not too long ago and had started at our school earlier that day.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhauX4-LfjzpGzwDPs8PZn6EC06ETNVPA3BO3Gz9AN-gZYuNUgoqw41r9KFr9CStYVQIQvVl9cGmmbVEMYAAINrxQl8zVf5BLD4jzLZ-RtkG-9SnuDa_VuTXPcAoLWrivLrwgxjl9m2vY0/s1600/Screenshot-654.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhauX4-LfjzpGzwDPs8PZn6EC06ETNVPA3BO3Gz9AN-gZYuNUgoqw41r9KFr9CStYVQIQvVl9cGmmbVEMYAAINrxQl8zVf5BLD4jzLZ-RtkG-9SnuDa_VuTXPcAoLWrivLrwgxjl9m2vY0/s400/Screenshot-654.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Porfirio and I were riding our bikes around town, mom had sent us down to the corner store to get some ice cream sundaes while she tended to Indy and Starry, both of which were sick and cranky. So my brother and I rode our bikes down the winding road from our home going as fast as we could. My hair whipped around as much as it could from under my helmet, which was barely able to keep it down. </div><div class="MsoNormal">So fast we were going I didn’t see the rock in sidewalk after we jumped it to avoid cars until right before my tire hit the it, sending me flying into a tumble over my handlebars as I fell to the ground I slide slightly across the sidewalk to the grass skinning both of my knees and probably bruising them as well. When I finally came to a stop I breathed in deeply as I felt every scrape and scratch my small body had endured during my accident.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5d6pjqF7qHdV_EjJQ-HuumLEKthxQ2C0pabnLo8r8wt7opodRBjCeO7QqxSH5CEeoZDjlETJUi6hf_P5oVjdxIBFleZST_FDXY2A1syxiLwrj_rCzKbGFTlHt8Omx087_WDCqt0wD8DI/s1600/Screenshot-638.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5d6pjqF7qHdV_EjJQ-HuumLEKthxQ2C0pabnLo8r8wt7opodRBjCeO7QqxSH5CEeoZDjlETJUi6hf_P5oVjdxIBFleZST_FDXY2A1syxiLwrj_rCzKbGFTlHt8Omx087_WDCqt0wD8DI/s400/Screenshot-638.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">“Are you ok?” a voice asked me before the owner of it came peering over me. Brown eyes looked down in concern while he held his hand out when I remember to breathe again as I let the air inside me out in one big whoosh which was followed crying then a few hiccups. My injuries were not that bad considering my fall. A few scrapes nothing broken except for my confidence to ever get back on to that particular bike again. But still it made me anger and had I not heard a voice I would have kicked the bike a few times though instead I just threw my helmet on the ground getting momentary satisfaction as it bounced away while tears slipped down my cheeks.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfXQ0_WTtDDzoCfGk9NemhL_4Nh3Whxg9huXRVR9DkktfRAPanrhyMj7UCXUONkVznu61K9BhzY8wypJkt1mH567NvRzyX0ZEu0r5cPb2nhXczpeKOvhNjSh8mDZgp2h0de3lfycrhIYw/s1600/Screenshot-646.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfXQ0_WTtDDzoCfGk9NemhL_4Nh3Whxg9huXRVR9DkktfRAPanrhyMj7UCXUONkVznu61K9BhzY8wypJkt1mH567NvRzyX0ZEu0r5cPb2nhXczpeKOvhNjSh8mDZgp2h0de3lfycrhIYw/s400/Screenshot-646.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">“Don’t cry, everything is fine I think. Its not you have any bones poking through your skin like in this movie my babysitter let me watch before we moved. You didn’t break anything did you?” The blue boy with big brown eyes asked me. “No, I don’t think so” I answered in a small voice as I tried to brush the dirt and grime from my knees. My hands clumsy rubbed against my pants fabric which in turn only rubbed against the scrapes underneath it, making them hurt more which only seemed to release more tears. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaWf37N-g_V23lVx2_wYIBM7K-0VsdiWBonnnO_U-N6MeLXZkDRIJclgInsipUZIPpvLLVkTN3i8kFZJnKu1FP1t_i3LXv0R4btu8DBescFqD4P8nioiCOm3RlJcLD2KUEkdtGnHP-cZU/s1600/Screenshot-649.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaWf37N-g_V23lVx2_wYIBM7K-0VsdiWBonnnO_U-N6MeLXZkDRIJclgInsipUZIPpvLLVkTN3i8kFZJnKu1FP1t_i3LXv0R4btu8DBescFqD4P8nioiCOm3RlJcLD2KUEkdtGnHP-cZU/s400/Screenshot-649.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">“Don’t cry.” He repeated himself “My mom has Band-Aids in the house. You’re… you’re too pretty to cry.” He ended shyly as my eyes widened. Never had a boy said anything like that to me before. </div><div class="MsoNormal">“She’s not pretty, she’s my sister. And don’t you know anything? Girls all have cooties! Which you could die from!” Porfirio cut in as he rode up with his bike scowling at the boy. “Is that a GXL Sweet Racer bike?” The boy asked my brother as he immediately changed the subject. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH3w-J7Cudq5iyniJNpNHDmK-z-JfF3BtB-ipB7mWaWhSKuiuoja-MwhCImzoZxE1bCWr8roZ_1qnX4PkTn5WJdxz1t47nMb5zhksSb3ltr4VY8Z7kaGlmb6sBvPvTh0AOvUPLJUrmYBA/s1600/Screenshot-651.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH3w-J7Cudq5iyniJNpNHDmK-z-JfF3BtB-ipB7mWaWhSKuiuoja-MwhCImzoZxE1bCWr8roZ_1qnX4PkTn5WJdxz1t47nMb5zhksSb3ltr4VY8Z7kaGlmb6sBvPvTh0AOvUPLJUrmYBA/s400/Screenshot-651.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">“Yeah, it is.” Profirio replied as he took in account my scraped up knees with his eyes as they narrowed. “Well I have a GXL 2.0 Sweet Racer bike.” The boy said back to him as Porifiro gaped at him with his mouth hanging wide open. “That’s not supposed to come out until this summer! You really don’t have one!” My brother exclaimed with notes of a challenge in his voice. “Yeah-huh I do! Do you want to see it? It's in the garage, my mom can take care of your sister’s knees.” He suggested before we went into his house, still holding my hand. “My name is Midnight. What’s yours?” </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVZbpXhdrIztDHnHBuA6XcU75PWfw44RQHqULAGCXmUjUtq5AuwbdSlxY4IjCnG_mna94K_-MmWyrJ1wIo5b1iB38UDWu-JN44mwWcdzyiQ9ty82RjKdIXjSdkBgIkTmb9F4BBA7Ex7dc/s1600/Screenshot-652.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVZbpXhdrIztDHnHBuA6XcU75PWfw44RQHqULAGCXmUjUtq5AuwbdSlxY4IjCnG_mna94K_-MmWyrJ1wIo5b1iB38UDWu-JN44mwWcdzyiQ9ty82RjKdIXjSdkBgIkTmb9F4BBA7Ex7dc/s400/Screenshot-652.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">“I could never forget.” Midnight said as he painfully tried to shift himself in the hospital bed while I sat down next to him. With a weak smile he looked up at me and said “I really need to ask you something.” </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUmr1SXigQga1XMI62vIH6B_znyAbIZaklofZSH7UYt0efFnYJdK1cMDEromJtHlrve3IdVRh4fHuwJWXCH-tXu0tTBxXtoS58-mlXHNpCCISpJ0Qkhnx-k2sgN9ooRrKNsawAm8lswA4/s1600/Screenshot-635.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUmr1SXigQga1XMI62vIH6B_znyAbIZaklofZSH7UYt0efFnYJdK1cMDEromJtHlrve3IdVRh4fHuwJWXCH-tXu0tTBxXtoS58-mlXHNpCCISpJ0Qkhnx-k2sgN9ooRrKNsawAm8lswA4/s400/Screenshot-635.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div>cupcakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08521399676517388209noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5466120303155862835.post-79698870235805023082012-03-31T08:30:00.000-07:002012-03-31T08:30:45.439-07:00AnnouncementI'm sure you've probably noticed how sluggish updates have been lately the past one that was posted the other day was the first in a month. After now an almost two years of writing The Meringue Rainbowcy I've finally just have had enough. So with out any dramatics that you would normal find within the story I'll just say it, I am cancelling The Meringues.<br />
<br />
There have been many, many reasons that have let up to this decision and after two years now I am just tired of it all. I'm tired of trying to write out chapters, spending eternity recloloring everything to match, having to build sets and figure out how I am going to accomplish doing something that you can't do in game because that's how the story goes.<br />
<br />
It feels as if its all been for nothing, like I have wasted two years on this project and I have absolutely nothing to show for it. My chapters only get a handful of comments from anyone, of those I am really thankful to those that do take the time to actually comment. And honestly it feels like for a while now this story has only been surviving from those comments because I've completely run out of steam having any desire to keep on writing it.<br />
<br />
I know I jsut posted a chapter not even 24 hours ago but this has just been a long time coming and I just can't do this anymore. Writing this generation has been very draining for me since a number of elements from the story I've taken from my own life and having to think about those memories has been rather rather emotionally distressing. <br />
<br />
If anyone wants to know what I had planned out for this generation or any of the following just ask and I'll tell you anything you want to know. I'd rather do it this way instead of leaving any what might have happened? Because trust me this generation and the following were going to be great. I mean this generation and the next were going to be my pride and joys of this story so just ask away if you want to know because right now there is nothing left to hide since it is over.<br />
<br />
After I post this I will be taking a small break from the community and when I come back everything that has been questioned will be answered.<br />
<br />
I just want to say that I am thankful for everyone that has followed the story through the 6 generations that its been through. I am sorry that I could not make it to a full 10 generations and that I've failed everyone that has kept up with my story.<br />
<br />
I wish you all good luck and happy april fools<br />
<br />
What? You actually thought the Meringue's were going somewhere? Of course not but I must admit that this was kind of fun *runs and hides from the pitch forks while giggling maniacally*cupcakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08521399676517388209noreply@blogger.com30tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5466120303155862835.post-30585680163909623622012-03-30T07:49:00.000-07:002012-03-30T07:49:46.350-07:00It all started with a thank-you.<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <o:OfficeDocumentSettings> <o:RelyOnVML/> <o:AllowPNG/> </o:OfficeDocumentSettings> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:WordDocument> <w:View>Normal</w:View> <w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:TrackMoves/> <w:TrackFormatting/> <w:PunctuationKerning/> <w:ValidateAgainstSchemas/> <w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:IgnoreMixedContent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:DoNotPromoteQF/> <w:LidThemeOther>EN-US</w:LidThemeOther> <w:LidThemeAsian>X-NONE</w:LidThemeAsian> <w:LidThemeComplexScript>X-NONE</w:LidThemeComplexScript> <w:Compatibility> <w:BreakWrappedTables/> <w:SnapToGridInCell/> <w:WrapTextWithPunct/> <w:UseAsianBreakRules/> <w:DontGrowAutofit/> <w:SplitPgBreakAndParaMark/> <w:EnableOpenTypeKerning/> <w:DontFlipMirrorIndents/> <w:OverrideTableStyleHps/> </w:Compatibility> <m:mathPr> <m:mathFont m:val="Cambria Math"/> <m:brkBin m:val="before"/> <m:brkBinSub m:val="--"/> <m:smallFrac m:val="off"/> <m:dispDef/> <m:lMargin m:val="0"/> <m:rMargin m:val="0"/> <m:defJc m:val="centerGroup"/> <m:wrapIndent m:val="1440"/> <m:intLim m:val="subSup"/> <m:naryLim m:val="undOvr"/> </m:mathPr></w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:LatentStyles DefLockedState="false" DefUnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghmzs7N53ZRfzfzWFd7lw14GtyT2oJefFwNJ7Pjy5YLXB_uV0JOsk1x6vHd6NIixuAZaJXHWn7U4xWQZyiZ8b2XIgSQhyphenhyphennizbjwcZM1HQzpQV7uIyGCY0rJ9VLurVgeZAqNo4XS-TBY0s/s1600/Siggy6.0.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="90" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghmzs7N53ZRfzfzWFd7lw14GtyT2oJefFwNJ7Pjy5YLXB_uV0JOsk1x6vHd6NIixuAZaJXHWn7U4xWQZyiZ8b2XIgSQhyphenhyphennizbjwcZM1HQzpQV7uIyGCY0rJ9VLurVgeZAqNo4XS-TBY0s/s400/Siggy6.0.png" width="400" /></a></div><h2 class="MsoNormal" style="color: #674ea7; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span></i></h2><h2 class="MsoNormal" style="color: #674ea7; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: x-large;">Porfirio's Chapter </span></i></h2><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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<div class="MsoNormal">Going to the airport to meet Can-Can was one of the most nerve-wracking experiences in my life. Midnight got to listen to me debate over whether I should meet her with flowers or not. “Just buy the fudging things already.” Midnight grumbled the night before Can-Can was due to arrive in our rental home. Because of our rank we were able to rent a small house right off base so we wouldn’t have to live in the barracks. We thought we were getting a good deal with it being completely furnished and so close to the base. But little did we realize was that half the command had the same idea and all of our neighbors also were also military, which made mornings and afternoons a pain from the mini traffic jams that would occur. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHN996POBx033X-StzibcHw6oC7vhM8UqjFd3gYTi44qeSLtNtgksNio5lTOckUdo_9zeUQrem7j8r4sBha-gFVVxWTgNxQrnwU26nrcv3RuBTDPNuvmzDDmAD1XZkyEaZI6nH62Rfuxs/s1600/Screenshot-508.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHN996POBx033X-StzibcHw6oC7vhM8UqjFd3gYTi44qeSLtNtgksNio5lTOckUdo_9zeUQrem7j8r4sBha-gFVVxWTgNxQrnwU26nrcv3RuBTDPNuvmzDDmAD1XZkyEaZI6nH62Rfuxs/s400/Screenshot-508.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">Outside the smell of charcoal grills and meat from across every other household drifted in the opened window along with the sound of the weekend beginning. We had made small talk while playing various games that we’ve played at least a hundred times before as we hung out in the living room before Midnight had to go stand his watch later on that night. He was not at all happy to find out that Wisteria was clubbing her weekends away in Briocheporte. “If you get back together with her like you always do then I’m sure she’ll probably stop.” I said cutting to the quick of his troubles but like always he didn’t listen or like my advice as Midnight always seemed to quickly ignore it. As he just went on to ask dejectedly “You think she is out dancing with other guys right now?”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQCHm3J-qGlkYWBv2cfpDs5qRW97-0VmKn6T9H4gpytc-rF4EOT_442Hq3qbHm7YlvF3lXF4sVdNe1vLmR_p21f3pGQyvDRP2dqhuWDvZq-VWQqlKq0c0QXCNNi9J_AICi6WGo4VDGeTk/s1600/Screenshot-503.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQCHm3J-qGlkYWBv2cfpDs5qRW97-0VmKn6T9H4gpytc-rF4EOT_442Hq3qbHm7YlvF3lXF4sVdNe1vLmR_p21f3pGQyvDRP2dqhuWDvZq-VWQqlKq0c0QXCNNi9J_AICi6WGo4VDGeTk/s400/Screenshot-503.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">“Probably. You did after all break up with her so she is indeed single now. And as we all know there ain’t any law against asking a single girl to dance.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I replied tired of the same old, same old conversation. All through junior high, high school and now as adults I had to listen to their ongoing drama, it was time for a change. Midnight sighed wearily as he got up to leave but not before giving an answer to my menial problem. “Just get the flowers. If things do work out then she’ll always remember that you brought her flowers when you first met her instead of ‘He just picked me up at the airport’” </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfxMKKVtwd8B18tkgJiWWCBtNhpgGL7rN5C_Q8ZCQi-79THAau5MTJCemU2VSXiWw73fcBnQnLOxIOL3RtiK6xkRSdhl6MR13gVjGOTjKIKz5yBqy1_vaQ5ererhGoa3OOSckHO7t9C3s/s1600/Screenshot-510-1.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfxMKKVtwd8B18tkgJiWWCBtNhpgGL7rN5C_Q8ZCQi-79THAau5MTJCemU2VSXiWw73fcBnQnLOxIOL3RtiK6xkRSdhl6MR13gVjGOTjKIKz5yBqy1_vaQ5ererhGoa3OOSckHO7t9C3s/s400/Screenshot-510-1.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">Never had I been as nervous before as I stood at the gate waiting for Can-Can to debark from the plane. The drive over to the airport I tried to shake those nerves away. Being nervous about well anything wasn’t my style. I preferred to calmly go with the flow of things, to let the chip fall where they may without no regrets. But somewhere in the mists of our late night marathon phone calls and letters that were scribbled to her during my downtime, I found myself trying to spin everything in my direction instead of whatever direction they might take on their own. Being more forth right than normal I made suggestions like her coming out here. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTHLo95qbnviXGrYFL5GXugdhcp_UgNi5BJHTBhjKV2DY0cPKe5FQWw5ubVFYty4QRZiZ09JZw6ibnYiYm00wp_qo24VeC4FZu951hJHwm-hWHYZpQAyv2Uy8jG3o7eA55FOhZI_uGNXM/s1600/Screenshot-564.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTHLo95qbnviXGrYFL5GXugdhcp_UgNi5BJHTBhjKV2DY0cPKe5FQWw5ubVFYty4QRZiZ09JZw6ibnYiYm00wp_qo24VeC4FZu951hJHwm-hWHYZpQAyv2Uy8jG3o7eA55FOhZI_uGNXM/s400/Screenshot-564.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">Who suggests something like that? To someone they haven’t even met yet in person? This whole thing was crazy. I thought to myself as I waited holding the flowers that I had bought from Midnight’s advice. The intense heat had dried the ends of the tips before I had even reached the door in the short walk from my car. I was sure that they had welcomed the air-conditioning as much as I did as the doors slide open and I felt a gust blow out. Now though I was waiting as everyone flowed pasted me greeting by their family and friends or probably just trying to make their connecting flight. I almost given up hope that she at the last minute had decided not to come, that maybe she had been thinking too like I had that this was crazy. I thought about leaving and just going back to the house but a cotton candy blue and pink haired girl with an anxious smile erased any doubts that I had. “Porfirio?” a voice thick with a creole accent questioned almost uncertainly like I would at any moment deny who I was and just walk away. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVDAiRX5AYia-_BjigIzPVanYcR-4syE-nQIvlguZqb7hlK8ke4iMTY7tFDKYtpMVZD6NSpqoImV10DnkxV18lhs_7zV2NLVIgH8Q17Yg56ZIRi7FOXZDsuPcOjyervmeEVCQo6LRY0go/s1600/Screenshot-566.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVDAiRX5AYia-_BjigIzPVanYcR-4syE-nQIvlguZqb7hlK8ke4iMTY7tFDKYtpMVZD6NSpqoImV10DnkxV18lhs_7zV2NLVIgH8Q17Yg56ZIRi7FOXZDsuPcOjyervmeEVCQo6LRY0go/s400/Screenshot-566.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">“That uh that would be me.” I said with a nervous smile that probably could have mirrored her own upturned corners of her lips. Here we were two adults that had spent the last few months talking to each other probably more than we talked to anyone else in our everyday lives, now standing facing each other like two middle school kids at a dance. So I presented her with the pink flowers while saying “I got these for you.” </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0EbiS9PPjkfJT7NuIK6eYwpPleOiUJuxv9-u9I55MGz0mlPgzfXAr4nmPW1G9La9ohxBhRuwt121t1OJqIf_GjNwiR8ufq7-iey9_6tUq-83QtC4yVvIYBTn7edm0GoC0xXPFFSofNzk/s1600/Screenshot-568.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0EbiS9PPjkfJT7NuIK6eYwpPleOiUJuxv9-u9I55MGz0mlPgzfXAr4nmPW1G9La9ohxBhRuwt121t1OJqIf_GjNwiR8ufq7-iey9_6tUq-83QtC4yVvIYBTn7edm0GoC0xXPFFSofNzk/s400/Screenshot-568.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">“Aww that’s so nice of you. You really didn’t have to.” She said shyly as she took them from me, a complete one 180 from the girl I talked to all the time and I don’t know why but her acting about as shy and nervous as I felt made me smile just a bit more than I was before. Her hair was done neatly a stark difference from the photo she sent me of herself where it seemed so wild and free like her personality I had gotten to know over these past few months. Taking the flowers back to hold for her and her arm as I lead the way I asked “So you ready to start your Spring break with me?” <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">Over the next few days we did some sightseeing taking in everything that this glorious city had to offer. I was almost disappoint that I had never really taken the time to do it before but seeing everything first hand with fresh eyes for the first time with Can-Can was even better. There were tours at the tombs that lay out a few miles away from the bustling Metropolitan city. But I think that we spent that most time hanging out poolside together. On my part it might have been an excuse to see Can-Can in her bikini. Though she didn’t mind going and even suggested heading there herself claiming that she just wanted to spend the day relaxing.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">On a quiet night that seemed to have more than a chill in the air than usual we sat barefoot outside clad in some heaver wear. The power had gone out not even an hour ago unexpectedly giving us an excuse to relax without any modern technology.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In the patch of grass that we called a backyard we hung out looking up at the stars. They glistened in the sky as I nervously rattled off something about the farther you are from civilization the bright they seem, reiterate a few times that I had spent out what seemed like the edge of civilization. It felt like everything from the first letter to our first phone call to the hug in the airport just a few days ago had been leading up to this. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhynB1WxZMqq21Vy_z-qWAj3vChxFnOuWM0vzxGwe2yoTCZqsHITGlBIeA8wFcv9JrSZxp6dNvihOTYJ8uSeG5MQT9ehpZhhnSUkOP0oEHGExbkjmYAiptR48QLg4O07MRs7vZ-R4-4QVI/s1600/Screenshot-515.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhynB1WxZMqq21Vy_z-qWAj3vChxFnOuWM0vzxGwe2yoTCZqsHITGlBIeA8wFcv9JrSZxp6dNvihOTYJ8uSeG5MQT9ehpZhhnSUkOP0oEHGExbkjmYAiptR48QLg4O07MRs7vZ-R4-4QVI/s400/Screenshot-515.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">Her hand was just a mere few millimeters from my own but still close enough for me to feel the warmth that radiated off of it on crisp night. Nights like these always made me think of Fall when my mother would even though the temperature would barely drop make all sort of apple dishes and ciders. Our home would smell of apples, cinnamon, other spices and things that most of my friend’s parents would buy air fresheners to replicate those scents. I might have mumbled something about this while we sat together looking up at the stars, anything but to look directly at her and let the conversation stop. I could have kicked myself for feeling nervous about what I knew was going to happen next. It’s not like I had never kissed a girl before, I had had a few girlfriends though none had seemed to appreciate my go with the flow attitude when it came to relationship statues. It’s not that I wanted to date other people like they always seemed to thing. If it was going to be serious then just let it be serious, labels were just words and they didn’t define how one felt about another. But now as I stole a few glances at Can-Can while listening to her talk with that Creole accent heavily salting her words I found that label looking quite tempting. Just the same as her broad and abundantly colored cotton candy pink lips seemed to call my name... Oh wait she really was saying my name “Porfirio? Hey? Is everything ok Porfirio? You’ve got that lost look on your face that your sister gets every so often like reality be damned as you’re trapped somewhere in your thoughts.” </div><div class="MsoNormal"> </div><div class="MsoNormal">“Not thoughts as in plural but just one, one singular thought.” I answered as I let the tide push me toward her as much as I willed it myself. Her lips were soft while I pressed my own against them as I kissed her. With enthusiasm Can-Can returned my kiss before we both pulled away at the same time. “I have been waiting for that this whole time I’ve been here.” She said breathlessly with wide eyes<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>and a smile curling on the corners of her mouth making my want to kiss her again.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhw8pwMfr921CptPUS8Sfn9b5GPdZVhuSKW7ZqLQJYS79nykajkOLq7PC-eVr-QtRBevwEzrZ0VDL6ImMGYd_gPsfMen2PSbiXsMcW-m7MVU3kVG4kCOoLEvVz9Bw7lW7XiWAdgYGrqhtA/s1600/Screenshot-521.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhw8pwMfr921CptPUS8Sfn9b5GPdZVhuSKW7ZqLQJYS79nykajkOLq7PC-eVr-QtRBevwEzrZ0VDL6ImMGYd_gPsfMen2PSbiXsMcW-m7MVU3kVG4kCOoLEvVz9Bw7lW7XiWAdgYGrqhtA/s400/Screenshot-521.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">But I didn’t. At least not right away that is. In a husky voice I asked “Would you be my girlfriend?”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgisP2K4hTV1ECBOG2-CTo1F9UMpi37rqyVrMXtDj4HnaW3jZ8r3FQsDjpMAOq_zF9JHVgvLEU0YEhEynU0GIKgifmb33wuNbxMIlZtSB0GBr_-crir1-vK4uEaAiqgs14Ngo2vnHpL248/s1600/Screenshot-520.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgisP2K4hTV1ECBOG2-CTo1F9UMpi37rqyVrMXtDj4HnaW3jZ8r3FQsDjpMAOq_zF9JHVgvLEU0YEhEynU0GIKgifmb33wuNbxMIlZtSB0GBr_-crir1-vK4uEaAiqgs14Ngo2vnHpL248/s400/Screenshot-520.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"> <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal">After Can-Can and I started dating it was only a matter of time before the inevitable subject of meeting the parents came up. The original plan was that I’d take leave again and fly into my hometown with Midnight since he and Wisteria just started dating again. After a few days at my parent’s house we would take a drive to her hometown of Black Tea Hollows for me to meet hers. But sometimes things just don’t work out and that Summer I didn’t get to meet her parents like we had planned. I’ll never know if it was just a simple error, perhaps after an all-nighter or if it was because someone didn’t know what they were doing. It was supposed to be a simple training exercise something that we had done many times before when we were still wet behind the ears like some of the new recruits that had just transferred in. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsQj3WRrZukSY2_Mqe5hf2xBhkaOjPBf4qgYlDNA_PJ7r79aPx00SgpngisjOLwXcDiophz5JK69DnEh5emLMFEpjkm4fCd2ia9xovlrTG-CMPs9qRuQgpKfc_1WR0QY_hg-SbTxJa6qM/s1600/Screenshot-525.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsQj3WRrZukSY2_Mqe5hf2xBhkaOjPBf4qgYlDNA_PJ7r79aPx00SgpngisjOLwXcDiophz5JK69DnEh5emLMFEpjkm4fCd2ia9xovlrTG-CMPs9qRuQgpKfc_1WR0QY_hg-SbTxJa6qM/s400/Screenshot-525.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">Midnight had been talking about my sister again but this time it was different from all the other times I had tuned him and their relationship out. The other day he bought a ring out in town and was planning on proposing to her after we had gotten back home. I knew that day had always been inevitable but I was kind of excited in having my best friend become my brother. Growing up in a house full of girl it would have been nice to have another guy around besides my father but my parents decided when Indy and Starry were little not to have any more children for some reason. The last thing I remember was congratulating him before reaching for my canteen when suddenly I was on the ground and the smell of fire seared through my nose as I fought to breathe before everything went black.</div><div class="MsoNormal">When I woke up I was in the base hospital and the doctor didn’t seem surprised to see me. With an unconcerned air he told me that I was basically fine though with a few bumps and bruises, some minor cuts. Over vague details from him a picture slowly began to form in my head what had happened and I was just lucky to barely sustain any damage from it.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcsbMddMjhigDCtmcKKSrcunKpA5swS-tCG7prK6wOSyQ_i64jhVJD1IputhNVAxCKTSh8tPVD7bhNP8dgDVYRROb9KWQRlzpRGw5vjIeddtWDHip3f2_zJu9Fps5GqgzdaBsORA1RULs/s1600/Screenshot-528.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcsbMddMjhigDCtmcKKSrcunKpA5swS-tCG7prK6wOSyQ_i64jhVJD1IputhNVAxCKTSh8tPVD7bhNP8dgDVYRROb9KWQRlzpRGw5vjIeddtWDHip3f2_zJu9Fps5GqgzdaBsORA1RULs/s400/Screenshot-528.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">Midnight however was a whole different situation, he wasn’t waking up right away like I had. Hooked up to a number of machines he seemed to sleep peacefully. After answering numerous questions and giving my statement I was cleared and released to go on my leave. Wisteria had no way of knowing what happened only being his girlfriend there was going to be no one letting her know besides me. This was something that I couldn’t break to her over the phone. Wisteria would flip out and be a complete mess, crying and chewing out everyone that came in contact with her. So instead I still took my flight two days later with the plan that I would explain what was going with him and she would accompany me back to Setra. Once we were back there Wisteria would stay at my house while I was her go between for getting on to the base so she could at least visit Midnight. I tried to sleep during the long never ending flight before my next connecting flight but the empty seat next to mine was a reminder of the news that I was about to bring my twin sister. At least this way she’ll be able to see him. I rationalized to myself as I hoped that Wisteria would see it that way instead of me keeping it from her for the past couple of days. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">When the second plane finally landed I nervously shuffled behind the rest of the passengers. The couple in front of me talked about heading to the beach later on after they checked into their hotel room while the family ahead buzzed about seeing some family members that turned out to live down the street from my Aunt Candy’s house. Unintentionally I focused in on their conversation and by the time we had exited the plane and were walking down the corridor I realized that they were related to a guy that my younger sister Indy had dated a few years ago in high school. I vaguely remember him having an older brother my age that had been sent to military school. We were never really friends so I didn't know him or his family well but it helped take my mind off of things.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">There was no one behind me, I was the last in the corridor and I could see Wisteria’s face as she realized that when I walked through the set of doors into the terminal. This was something that she was not expecting. What she expected was Midnight to come off the plane with me and wrap his arms around her as he would spin her around, dizzily kissing her all over her face as she half heatedly protested them before they would fall over. The two of them being complete showoffs with the PDA to the untrained eye that didn't know them well enough to know that just how Wisteria and Midnight were with each other whther there was anyone around or not. But that wasn’t what was happening instead only her brother was walking off the plane and the man she loved through a tumultuous relationship was miles away nowhere to be seen. A visible barrage of emotions quickly passed through her before she shook them off as she tossed her hair exasperatedly in typical Wisteria fashion. But the stammer in her voice as she tripped over Midnight’s name gave away her nerves. “Figgy where’s M-midnight?” </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div>cupcakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08521399676517388209noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5466120303155862835.post-76645646983728496092012-03-29T16:29:00.000-07:002012-03-29T16:29:49.661-07:00Letters from me to you Part 2As before click on the picture to make it bigger. These are the last ones and the update should be posted sometime today.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcZu1TSIC18yGKpUfanmkxXIiWBtaXYbsUdhhHWvEw065mi7-RFZioSxWqvRIPhwqgDOdcPcgK-tQ67RSRbFojySNnYuaSt5qzAKIL88eKEbw-RW95tbkF-tbzVvoJRc4FKHdsipNW7sg/s1600/Screenshot-524+copy.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcZu1TSIC18yGKpUfanmkxXIiWBtaXYbsUdhhHWvEw065mi7-RFZioSxWqvRIPhwqgDOdcPcgK-tQ67RSRbFojySNnYuaSt5qzAKIL88eKEbw-RW95tbkF-tbzVvoJRc4FKHdsipNW7sg/s400/Screenshot-524+copy.png" width="400" /></a></div>cupcakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08521399676517388209noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5466120303155862835.post-62183510719424837502012-03-29T03:14:00.001-07:002012-03-29T03:24:53.556-07:00Letters from me to you part 1<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlpHmuDSwE0GzdrDZNrWxzKfV5H3TkLq2t4E89ne5TxjMyjsI38DXnUAuXStANK_Medp1Z5-D35DW3CpxKAO932RpK128u3mIy4GOnZi-h2BslXLqTWXOt-l5w8vRwy_PlOIiG9IJY-1I/s1600/Screenshot-505+copy.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlpHmuDSwE0GzdrDZNrWxzKfV5H3TkLq2t4E89ne5TxjMyjsI38DXnUAuXStANK_Medp1Z5-D35DW3CpxKAO932RpK128u3mIy4GOnZi-h2BslXLqTWXOt-l5w8vRwy_PlOIiG9IJY-1I/s400/Screenshot-505+copy.png" width="400" /></a></div><br />
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Just click on each one to read them.cupcakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08521399676517388209noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5466120303155862835.post-37422129748412912452012-03-20T10:15:00.000-07:002012-03-20T10:15:43.009-07:00Some favorite Showtime Pictures<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXTN8EJeu0tB2bfptNPti3LcpVAdGV6QhoZYy9BdlXKlg9ebyHPD1vobfV8Njr-b1idyte0KY_rV3XAB7esMEkwixEAu5qbK2pxRGghiTVpY5rJNORMhQ8NkVoq7-vET6ShHfsVxr5y-w/s1600/Screenshot-231.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXTN8EJeu0tB2bfptNPti3LcpVAdGV6QhoZYy9BdlXKlg9ebyHPD1vobfV8Njr-b1idyte0KY_rV3XAB7esMEkwixEAu5qbK2pxRGghiTVpY5rJNORMhQ8NkVoq7-vET6ShHfsVxr5y-w/s400/Screenshot-231.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-IqhRaVkf2Az4SEN2HBInQUZVB-R4rh-020is3CjSRHTd7unAZ9DMda-eAy-vgiLtJ7zKTdxqjvtnqD7Te6wtTmmtkjRfKlLHGnuS0_HZ-RKDWGGU5Wr_J_TKvn8zCuoc0gwcPYPGl0o/s1600/Screenshot-371.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-IqhRaVkf2Az4SEN2HBInQUZVB-R4rh-020is3CjSRHTd7unAZ9DMda-eAy-vgiLtJ7zKTdxqjvtnqD7Te6wtTmmtkjRfKlLHGnuS0_HZ-RKDWGGU5Wr_J_TKvn8zCuoc0gwcPYPGl0o/s400/Screenshot-371.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7ugSrAeOg_PlGvrVFeKXuv6rnNHNpOwUl3QDa7tWyTuB1j-7nN9m1GnCK-GcxzEr_2VZgbfMoYIn51oRVKWTgcpaOgQIl9j61G_perygdwIACZ3dbn8xc5P8L25eWQYfQNrP0Y3HrMec/s1600/Screenshot-432.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7ugSrAeOg_PlGvrVFeKXuv6rnNHNpOwUl3QDa7tWyTuB1j-7nN9m1GnCK-GcxzEr_2VZgbfMoYIn51oRVKWTgcpaOgQIl9j61G_perygdwIACZ3dbn8xc5P8L25eWQYfQNrP0Y3HrMec/s400/Screenshot-432.jpg" width="400" /> </a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">This is Leaf a berrysweet sim that I made to test out Showtime</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8491fIUlCJztjEZwSzANwxkXsXTJybZQ1GQGsd5brIXIM7WubwnH_747MhwaE_1WggDwEV0tqQMFmKlbLq43vYxdKbTQcrSYvaXDgv9ScUUMWJw6OZJB_PA6XAsDPtuTIgyCEdZ-irlE/s1600/Screenshot-193.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8491fIUlCJztjEZwSzANwxkXsXTJybZQ1GQGsd5brIXIM7WubwnH_747MhwaE_1WggDwEV0tqQMFmKlbLq43vYxdKbTQcrSYvaXDgv9ScUUMWJw6OZJB_PA6XAsDPtuTIgyCEdZ-irlE/s400/Screenshot-193.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijkFcBf9sh5vQNlzo0PR9qSSWpSE9z70wgMRKfJ943YTjZ43oKFf5diq0uK6Fki5mpZDWfRqPYC9tnnfVFGEjFz6eRZr8yEyuIUUqwtMhjAvSml5AZlq4Fhexm73DBHyR67nH_9DVvv74/s1600/Screenshot-199.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijkFcBf9sh5vQNlzo0PR9qSSWpSE9z70wgMRKfJ943YTjZ43oKFf5diq0uK6Fki5mpZDWfRqPYC9tnnfVFGEjFz6eRZr8yEyuIUUqwtMhjAvSml5AZlq4Fhexm73DBHyR67nH_9DVvv74/s400/Screenshot-199.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Would have been posting more but blogger says that I am out of my picture quota? :/ Don't know what that means for my stories...</div>cupcakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08521399676517388209noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5466120303155862835.post-88086843335070609862012-03-11T15:51:00.001-07:002012-03-11T15:52:30.871-07:00Testing out Showtime With StarrySanOver here on my <a href="http://thecupthatiscake.tumblr.com/">simblr</a> if anyone is interested in seeing some pictures of them doing that. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVQjne8VHnCksZiazrpBYZj71GrMEZH1uwFxMFKxftknaA6G1OaA1ljl0GoKTHN7AhA13qupYQzglDKN7q9B-vyKK8KxzhfIRyb-fOPswVi_F1tm93AOU2nHnG_UEZR5ga2cYS8X-knBo/s1600/Screenshot-213.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVQjne8VHnCksZiazrpBYZj71GrMEZH1uwFxMFKxftknaA6G1OaA1ljl0GoKTHN7AhA13qupYQzglDKN7q9B-vyKK8KxzhfIRyb-fOPswVi_F1tm93AOU2nHnG_UEZR5ga2cYS8X-knBo/s400/Screenshot-213.png" width="400" /></a></div>cupcakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08521399676517388209noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5466120303155862835.post-16455475126350294742012-02-25T05:47:00.002-08:002012-02-25T07:43:39.157-08:00The Meringue Rainbowcy~A Legacy Gone Technicolor Chapter 11 Generation Starry<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRWmQI8ulRuGCugPlz_sW3ja6WpuAu2P1rF5a9jJLjRr_NaA5huFENxkikSQ5zz6Yd5NZ6Rde9h5dnVekbQM8zuE4Tdyvm8OmGYth1RQIq1p5L8mYslz_unftMLY8s8gpYcSmHqKsqh3U/s1600/Siggy6.0.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="90" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRWmQI8ulRuGCugPlz_sW3ja6WpuAu2P1rF5a9jJLjRr_NaA5huFENxkikSQ5zz6Yd5NZ6Rde9h5dnVekbQM8zuE4Tdyvm8OmGYth1RQIq1p5L8mYslz_unftMLY8s8gpYcSmHqKsqh3U/s400/Siggy6.0.png" width="400" /></a></div><a name='more'></a><br />
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“You promise you won’t tell anyone?” My voice cracked nervously as I asked him while I hide behind the safe confined of the couch “Only if you promise not to either.” He said with his voice a mixture of wariness but marked excitement from where he hid himself as his eyes peaked out mischievously from behind the arm chair. To the left of the both of us was an easel that faced a small backdrop waiting to be used. The plan was while his Aunt was away that we would use her living room to practice my nude paintings because as immature as it was the thought of being in a room with some random naked person unnerved me. So I had convinced Sanguinello in the name of art, to let me use him as my subject but he refused to be in the buff unless I was. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzFLDA-1Qz_taKIZEEVAIhWcAlJHw3_Q6jSSMSFWPeWWcTDZuUg4mwiiZh3_uQOvTWaEg1BsGq_vkJ2Bh_KFHYYzVqnhpnteXBHBi3hl_V9WYrAaH7X6TVqVbkxgNWk1tYm54PxrNg_fA/s1600/Screenshot-410.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzFLDA-1Qz_taKIZEEVAIhWcAlJHw3_Q6jSSMSFWPeWWcTDZuUg4mwiiZh3_uQOvTWaEg1BsGq_vkJ2Bh_KFHYYzVqnhpnteXBHBi3hl_V9WYrAaH7X6TVqVbkxgNWk1tYm54PxrNg_fA/s400/Screenshot-410.png" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Oh no, no, no… No… I’m not going to stand in my Aunt’s living room completely nude so you can paint me.” He said when I first asked him about it the week before in the laundry room. “Oh come on Sanguinello no one is going to see it or you.” I argued with him almost instantly regretting my words because I could see an idea form in his head, an idea that I was not going to be too keen on. With a smile that would have made the Cheshire cat’s dim in comparison Sanguinello said sweetly as if he was pledging his undying love to me “If I have to be nude then you do too. Otherwise no deal then Starry.” <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwnN4176JFDBr7OpPrbJJ9CBTDWVHiH5d3Jv2ea15SQSj3DhwHWrqJleqrbfBM8b_UAIhz2H3SWullyfZAnaz1_LUf9jVfvFhiLtM1EtE5LJ7O4gu5sZbJzTnSiPQE4IwkWzp-yPgcwSE/s1600/Screenshot-478.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwnN4176JFDBr7OpPrbJJ9CBTDWVHiH5d3Jv2ea15SQSj3DhwHWrqJleqrbfBM8b_UAIhz2H3SWullyfZAnaz1_LUf9jVfvFhiLtM1EtE5LJ7O4gu5sZbJzTnSiPQE4IwkWzp-yPgcwSE/s400/Screenshot-478.png" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Now the only thing left was to execute our plan but neither one of us seemed to want to move from our safe and concealing places. I had never seen a guy up close and nude before and Monday was my nude painting class that had a hired model for us to paint. We had been dating for quite some time now, hedging on taking the next step especially these past few weeks in more than one way. The words always seemed to be on the tip of my lips just rearing to get out and to be heard by him. “On the count of three?” I suggested as Sanguinello bobbed his head in agreement as he said “Right.” <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpvlf_P4x5LKQKOz3MLj7RYaTBE9PArgDer2NHhHLaBypk6aycr7MuuxOSqnAC_2KB7nSak45h8vgtybnx8jBO_20OqbweLRoS6YZlOs-fPk8ITieFharowkpL4u2NLHWruF8pQLAC7Uk/s1600/Screenshot-413.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpvlf_P4x5LKQKOz3MLj7RYaTBE9PArgDer2NHhHLaBypk6aycr7MuuxOSqnAC_2KB7nSak45h8vgtybnx8jBO_20OqbweLRoS6YZlOs-fPk8ITieFharowkpL4u2NLHWruF8pQLAC7Uk/s400/Screenshot-413.png" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; tab-stops: 256.8pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“One” <o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Two.” <o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Three.”<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">…..<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“You didn’t move at all Sanguinello.” I said, surprised at the amount of disappointment in my tone while he laughed and jested while sticking out his tongue at me “Well, neither did you.” <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmnmHsSMVuJB2NfCTfdkq9Ou-0Y56U-hCrSy71XTLgAgqRzX4sX7MJthSfu44e4FP_pDXB3q3cNueJKC7O-c9ZZXxKj9wcDGwYYjFy1dA66lFA8vzAibKhs3367Mqmy8qjjAdYYCdtwc4/s1600/Screenshot-412.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmnmHsSMVuJB2NfCTfdkq9Ou-0Y56U-hCrSy71XTLgAgqRzX4sX7MJthSfu44e4FP_pDXB3q3cNueJKC7O-c9ZZXxKj9wcDGwYYjFy1dA66lFA8vzAibKhs3367Mqmy8qjjAdYYCdtwc4/s400/Screenshot-412.png" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“True, very true.” I admitted as soon Sanguinello chuckled and said “Ladies first then?” Making me glare at him and his lack of seriousness about this, this whole thing seemed to be one big joke to him. “Let’s be professional about this now Sanguinello. There is going to be a naked man in the classroom next week and I need to paint him. How did you do it when you when you took this class?” I asked as he fidgeted restlessly before he replied with an answer that did not help me in the slightest way. “I snagged the easel closest to the door and the furthest away from the model.” <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtfpA8zuP2sv9ia4QB1E6ffQsk4k02s9aklraYvOjfQOSTRm8O45EC6MFSaYVmi0WwZ1P0k4VpeXlh7BzDD39i6AYf6l9G2Zww7BI_AFuwiUXLnAlQEFk6QMLiA_-kOsTBejOnyPIBy1g/s1600/Screenshot-408.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtfpA8zuP2sv9ia4QB1E6ffQsk4k02s9aklraYvOjfQOSTRm8O45EC6MFSaYVmi0WwZ1P0k4VpeXlh7BzDD39i6AYf6l9G2Zww7BI_AFuwiUXLnAlQEFk6QMLiA_-kOsTBejOnyPIBy1g/s400/Screenshot-408.png" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Thought it wasn’t long before Sanguinello became bored with the whole situation and started to turn it into a joke as always. Taking the lead he was the first to show, requesting though that I close my eyes and turn around. “Paint me like one of your Chambery girls Jello.” Sanguinello said airily in a falsetto voice while he struck a pose as he leaned against the wall totally unabashed as the more mischievous side of Sanguinello came out. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl9PLaKM3SqgNWhSg862dgo1L4hIIYRoe0B7Vnq8JQu3t6XD7P9izO4qwG4yosDXq0MjgqlAx-fOWvDvbfcv0LkM0z2k3aayEBwyWGz_FCwTTex4WCqFpnvAUpSITTXIyF0-MaN5SGVPs/s1600/Screenshot-414.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl9PLaKM3SqgNWhSg862dgo1L4hIIYRoe0B7Vnq8JQu3t6XD7P9izO4qwG4yosDXq0MjgqlAx-fOWvDvbfcv0LkM0z2k3aayEBwyWGz_FCwTTex4WCqFpnvAUpSITTXIyF0-MaN5SGVPs/s400/Screenshot-414.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Which didn’t help at all with the sudden case of the giggles that I had started to come down with as I began to paint, trying to wrap my head around that I was painting a naked Sanguinello whilst I was completely unclothed myself and how I got myself into this situation. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKiNhkGs6zJQPQQxeuz21dkfWajt9g9HS56MjgFrn76ZtMk0Kt5ydi1KT7G8oZ_BufudA8lImMGKpZtnOSfR3kN7criMTFSKbvESYp9FEQ7MBstGVA1qWjoiaAmzyQySYZuYsOJJy8ZQo/s1600/Screenshot-416.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKiNhkGs6zJQPQQxeuz21dkfWajt9g9HS56MjgFrn76ZtMk0Kt5ydi1KT7G8oZ_BufudA8lImMGKpZtnOSfR3kN7criMTFSKbvESYp9FEQ7MBstGVA1qWjoiaAmzyQySYZuYsOJJy8ZQo/s400/Screenshot-416.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“What’s so funny?” Sanguinello asked as he immediately moving from where he was supposed to stand at the first sign he could get out of posing for me. “Oh Nothing, nothing at all, nothing is at all very funny. Go back to where I told you to be and hold that book.” I said trying to regain some of my seriousness but failing horribly as Sanguinello refused with a playful smile and I could tell that from that moment he wouldn’t be still enough for me to paint “Not until you tell me what’s so funny.” <o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Go back before I paint you and I really mean paint you.” I said in my most severe tone as I threatened him with the paint brush drenched in pink paint before cracking up. “You wouldn’t.” Sanguinello said as he quickly plucked up a paint brush and began to wield it like a sword, in the nude which only made me laugh harder as I felt my eyes water. Putting down my brush and palette I was now defenseless as I dabbed at my eyes trying to catch my breath through my laughter and that’s all it took before Sanguinello launched his attack against me. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiz8bJH7pmZ6PG5NrHuA_ywZWu1Rq0MiRmtP6CmzzcWSaJ9JViJrgtKZLpbuS7MiSKQOsORO5_6qhb8rm6xWDuy0aDnmRcVaaFJSVzcCpQjdZ1fiUk137FeqUCvWFxZPPTsSo0j6EPtuVE/s1600/Screenshot-419.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiz8bJH7pmZ6PG5NrHuA_ywZWu1Rq0MiRmtP6CmzzcWSaJ9JViJrgtKZLpbuS7MiSKQOsORO5_6qhb8rm6xWDuy0aDnmRcVaaFJSVzcCpQjdZ1fiUk137FeqUCvWFxZPPTsSo0j6EPtuVE/s400/Screenshot-419.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Paint was smeared against me before I could react and strike my own foray to get him. Dipping my fingers in the paint as quickly as I could I attempt to get him back but he was too quick as he dodged my assault but he couldn’t dodge me for long and neither I for him. Within minutes we were both randomly smeared with paint and having trouble breathing through our laughing fits when Sanguinello suddenly quicker than I expected grabbed me by my wrists, his eyes were ablaze with an almost crazed zeal.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ_8hhEUPmz1laOJSqLEw1B697UDYQYp8HOI2YOLM3stVje3wIImLbkS1DG49IUpKV1ivdue_b8uv7E7lnMOSMd22Tn6h3Z1QNtfhWzqFW5srfqAKuzyNhhyphenhyphene2rKHE2Y0YjuQkq-p915Q/s1600/Screenshot-421.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ_8hhEUPmz1laOJSqLEw1B697UDYQYp8HOI2YOLM3stVje3wIImLbkS1DG49IUpKV1ivdue_b8uv7E7lnMOSMd22Tn6h3Z1QNtfhWzqFW5srfqAKuzyNhhyphenhyphene2rKHE2Y0YjuQkq-p915Q/s400/Screenshot-421.png" width="400" /></a></div><br />
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Losing his footing as his hand gripped my wrists we tumbled to the floor together in a tangled mess. A few strands stuck to my face as I tried to catch my breath as Sanguinello slowly brushed his fingertips pushing them away as they went from my forehead passed my cheek bones to half way circle around my ear as they moved my hair away. His eyes took in every inch of my face as they seemed lost in me for a moment. Looking at San above me with the weight of his body pressed closely against mine, feeling completely vunerable the words came out of my mouth before I even had a chance to fight them. “I love you.” </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9rJetsT5hNYUM_I2iYabHm5QnQXa2wr8RGFxRzSrdN46TZ7CiKuMatM57sYyaHvEBZEaWD8yxjjONlF2XT2TxwKno9mY4ryiG7DEo1n9K3LYEAbZtzp9KAK5qfOI88jlVYygwJpyKXdE/s1600/Screenshot-425.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9rJetsT5hNYUM_I2iYabHm5QnQXa2wr8RGFxRzSrdN46TZ7CiKuMatM57sYyaHvEBZEaWD8yxjjONlF2XT2TxwKno9mY4ryiG7DEo1n9K3LYEAbZtzp9KAK5qfOI88jlVYygwJpyKXdE/s400/Screenshot-425.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><br />
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Say it, say it again.” Sanguinello said as he crushed my body against his, his lips brushed against my neck as he spoke in between kisses sending shivers down my spine. The paint that had been jokingly applied was now intermingling causing the colors to slightly mix as they begun to dry causing us to slightly stick together but I didn’t care. For once I didn’t have a care in the world, nothing was holding me. No sarcastic or brash remarks made to push others away and no baggy clothes to hide myself from the world that never understood me. It was just me and him “I love you, I love you, I love you Sanguinello Moro.” </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“For as long as I breathe, I will never tire of hearing you say those words to me.” Sanguinello pledged so genuinely with eyes so serious yet so hopeful, that even a cynic such as myself would ever question or doubt as he breathless struggled to say. “I love you Starry.” </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><br />
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Most girls falter at being told those three little words spoken to them by someone that they do have those feelings for. But my next decision had little or actually everything to do with those three simple words. Who was I kidding I was a fool for Sanguinello and him saying those words to me I would have done anything afterwards. For the first time I didn’t stop Sanguinello, I just let go of every nagging thing in the back of my mind, pushing aside my mother’s voice about waiting till my wedding night and I just went with it. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3J0sYBOqB8TFB7R8flcNqoMAGc2eBRzvmp1-GxOB3c74y46NSE3qyGDpnBZ0moQR8p9R-j9vLNaXMU1t_wr18EA9cxibo0neFt-Urtu9cRsJAkuXn7Ud-XE7g0JtxS2JgKPqPEbj93Gs/s1600/Screenshot-432.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3J0sYBOqB8TFB7R8flcNqoMAGc2eBRzvmp1-GxOB3c74y46NSE3qyGDpnBZ0moQR8p9R-j9vLNaXMU1t_wr18EA9cxibo0neFt-Urtu9cRsJAkuXn7Ud-XE7g0JtxS2JgKPqPEbj93Gs/s400/Screenshot-432.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><br />
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Of course with this new level in our relationship came some new worries and fears. It seemed like every now and then we were hearing about some girl in our dorm getting pregnant and that made me really nervous. I might have scoffed at them before <i>stupid girls and boys, the first time their away from mommy and daddy.</i> But now I felt as if I was holding an invisible ticket as I waited in a proverbial line for my turn in misery. “Well I don’t have anything to worry about.” Can-Can said almost gleefully one night that we were in our floor’s kitchen while she cooked us dinner. She had recently confessed to me that she kind of had been seeing my older brother for a few months now. I guess I should have felt something else besides surprised but I didn’t really care that she was seeing Porfirio, I just honestly hoped they wouldn’t break up before we graduated. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeIyL33fow4kBmCBfJ61-A1AhqtgX6ULjB4YaYTON1y8B6cPeiawRb9iirTeoScKcmO6rarcUoDvs4yTEz92RtrNLBSYrWecimZoCDND93St_z75B8AR-AQYHDz7lZqdy1Q9iyznq4S8M/s1600/Screenshot-440.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeIyL33fow4kBmCBfJ61-A1AhqtgX6ULjB4YaYTON1y8B6cPeiawRb9iirTeoScKcmO6rarcUoDvs4yTEz92RtrNLBSYrWecimZoCDND93St_z75B8AR-AQYHDz7lZqdy1Q9iyznq4S8M/s400/Screenshot-440.png" width="400" /></a></div><br />
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Yeah well not all of us are lucky enough to be in relationships that require us to take a plane to see our boyfriend.” I said sarcastically as she laughed and turned around from the stove. “You know if you are really bothered about this you can always just stop yanno? It’s not like you always have to…” Can-Can tried to in her well-meaning way be helpful as Froot Loop came in with his shoulders slumped and basically just looking worn down in general. “Hey Frootie-Tootie, you want to share some dinner? I think we have enough for a third here.” Can-Can asked as soon as she caught eye of him but he just shook his head. “I don’t think I’m ever going to be able to eat again. I uh… I seriously fudged up and I don’t know what to do.”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHvhFiWiivNsOPUVFIY3h0bR1xljAG5gNfCj7MivVPhHi9aGa6Sml1168iB1JX_TEaXjclAFdTHVM38g6lKZJUQhGFWv-GVVRex8sQMFKxTPb6VClnca9Zzj5-WID49BZnl9EshH9NfKw/s1600/Screenshot-438.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHvhFiWiivNsOPUVFIY3h0bR1xljAG5gNfCj7MivVPhHi9aGa6Sml1168iB1JX_TEaXjclAFdTHVM38g6lKZJUQhGFWv-GVVRex8sQMFKxTPb6VClnca9Zzj5-WID49BZnl9EshH9NfKw/s400/Screenshot-438.png" width="400" /></a></div><br />
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“What’d you do now Froot? Forget that we had exams yesterday and sleep through them all again?” I joked as he buried his head in his arms. “No I… I mean we… Umm Mai Tai is pregnant.” His muffled voice came through the fabric of his hoodie. “What’s that? You’ve got Mai Tai pregnant?” I said in shock as Can-Can just gaped at him in surprise. Froot and Mai Tai had been dating since last year when he according to Melon stole her away from him. “Yes…No… I guess. What am I going to do now?” he bemoaned when he finally lifted his head up, gone from his face was his well-known devilish smile and in its place was downturned corners that formed a frown. Within a few weeks Froot was working and going to school full time and that smile all but disappeared. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKjkC4AC-G5KPz-JhcHhkxKB7e9AlWHG4DLx68sGB4ImAinKsUX_UjeuPf-9d8n-CA8u13N4frEyVvlkAou7NcVyYOJYuyQgf9ppkkfZvuG3i2FTUCd_XVDGs6k6lanpA9ewXurNP-_BE/s1600/Screenshot-443.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKjkC4AC-G5KPz-JhcHhkxKB7e9AlWHG4DLx68sGB4ImAinKsUX_UjeuPf-9d8n-CA8u13N4frEyVvlkAou7NcVyYOJYuyQgf9ppkkfZvuG3i2FTUCd_XVDGs6k6lanpA9ewXurNP-_BE/s400/Screenshot-443.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><br />
</div><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Do you… Have you… What are your feelings about having children? You know the wee ones, babies and all. Things that cry in the middle of the night and throw up a lot.” I tried to approach the subject with as much care I could but as always the words got stuck until they came out in a jumbled mess that vaguely resembled nervous rambling. “Are you trying to tell me that you are pregnant?” Sanguinello asked me back instead, no longer was he lounging comfortably next to me. Now he was sitting up facing me with all of his attention directed at my answer. Worry and panic were written all across his face as it paled at the very thought. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“No… Oh Berry no. I was just wondering what you thought about them.” I answered quickly, nervous at the thought of me ever being pregnant while Sanguinello got up and began to pace. “I don’t really want to… ever have children. Starry you know how I am and what I’ve dealt with. I don’t ever want to pass that down. So I guess this is when you tell me that you want to eventually have kids one day isn’t?” He asked me as he came to a halt waiting for my reply. “Not really.” I said as I felt a mixture of feelings flowed through my mind, though the biggest one was <i>Thank Berry</i> as I involuntarily let out a sigh of relief “I… I don’t think I would be a very good mother to tell you the truth. I don’t know I’ve never really had an interest in them. I’m not really like my sisters who look forward to the day they get married and push out a few babies. So I guess no I don’t want to be a parent either.” <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdos8qXS_PYQ5KpdMcxxkBxKuUfKkRJq9OZzrkiSXDB3xl_IObmba0pcMnvDgPJ6KCt4u0DNYaQnu6PSsKgpnzTMqKmI_u-0FiFTpr5nuGjgXAOznyQ1r1Krq54vBuBoYHr7osMnQnZRU/s1600/Screenshot-453.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdos8qXS_PYQ5KpdMcxxkBxKuUfKkRJq9OZzrkiSXDB3xl_IObmba0pcMnvDgPJ6KCt4u0DNYaQnu6PSsKgpnzTMqKmI_u-0FiFTpr5nuGjgXAOznyQ1r1Krq54vBuBoYHr7osMnQnZRU/s400/Screenshot-453.png" width="400" /></a></div><br />
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">After we had our little talk we decided to go back to taking things slowly but that didn’t last too long before I found myself deep in the carnal throes of Sanguinello. He kissed me hard than before, passion driving us both to the near brinks of insanity as we pressed our bodies up against each other with my back against the cold metal lockers that held his clothes. My pants were quickly discarded first without any second thought along with my hoodie and his shirt. When suddenly there was the sound of cloth tearing quickly, I felt my shirt fell loose as it was pulled quickly down past my shoulders and quickly removed. Then he set on doing the same to my skirt with his long artistic hands that instantly found the seam before I stopped him and gasped “I’m not going to have anything to wear back to my room.” </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioCmVYJE7vMB8hui7OECdLzoIJ5Bj1v0zveiPU6y7FV1un5DnA1hkYNh2RLnt58sQ7-I3j69ZJQQnWBp0Zsvb-X_ZB5Ns54knn52H2MqnS04Xw0n4Pe8XbrJLDAi4H6HYyQNR-k25BLUs/s1600/Screenshot-480.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioCmVYJE7vMB8hui7OECdLzoIJ5Bj1v0zveiPU6y7FV1un5DnA1hkYNh2RLnt58sQ7-I3j69ZJQQnWBp0Zsvb-X_ZB5Ns54knn52H2MqnS04Xw0n4Pe8XbrJLDAi4H6HYyQNR-k25BLUs/s400/Screenshot-480.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><br />
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Without moving his hands away, a mischievous grin that spread across his face. But Sanguinello didn’t answer at first but kissed me again before his lips traveled to my neck as he spoke in between them “Maybe I want you to have to wear mine on your walk back to your room so everyone can know that you really are mine.” What used to be my skirt was being slowly torn in half almost teasingly as he went on, every fabric layer of protection that shielded me from the world was now gone and destroyed. Maybe that was really his plan all along or maybe I was over thinking things once again.“Or maybe I want you to stay here with me forever and never leave.” </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo7oobYGQavaLzCT_UitCVnUJXvwhL-JLhkTyhZKOaYSn50xl4vWF6-a5HD11bDgKDDlqICdw-tGrk_yCX83Ycmv69_xF_pLIEfEFnvCgS4O7gmyyfA13JZDNeSOkr5DbBle9r7qfRzV0/s1600/Screenshot-483.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo7oobYGQavaLzCT_UitCVnUJXvwhL-JLhkTyhZKOaYSn50xl4vWF6-a5HD11bDgKDDlqICdw-tGrk_yCX83Ycmv69_xF_pLIEfEFnvCgS4O7gmyyfA13JZDNeSOkr5DbBle9r7qfRzV0/s400/Screenshot-483.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Lying in his arms afterwards almost compelled Sanguinello began to talk about his family taking a more serious note “My uncle heard voices or rather one voice when he was still living with my grandparents. I used to think that he might have been my real father since we look almost exactly alike and both my parents would never let his name be spoken in their house. My mother if she heard it wouldn’t speak for days as she went on a sedative bender and my father was not a berry that anyone would want to be around during those days.” <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAzmodpbXhLIO41y6uP-ntSUcgCWPWTy7HNNZBBoqQD_iNWChB1BLCdGZ0ZutqK7LwWfLbnsybgc6RGO3LkSkzGoWQZJ_mqPkDsv9cKgMnHJ0zMTMwxuv4O8c3rh5HJ-mEh2E6mzCR_0A/s1600/Screenshot-484.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAzmodpbXhLIO41y6uP-ntSUcgCWPWTy7HNNZBBoqQD_iNWChB1BLCdGZ0ZutqK7LwWfLbnsybgc6RGO3LkSkzGoWQZJ_mqPkDsv9cKgMnHJ0zMTMwxuv4O8c3rh5HJ-mEh2E6mzCR_0A/s400/Screenshot-484.png" width="400" /></a></div><br />
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“What happened to your uncle?” I asked expecting to be told that he was living alive and as well as he could be somewhere he could be kept safe but that was further than what Sanguinello really told me. “I don’t know. He disappeared around the time I was two. Gone completely without a trace, just gone with no clues as to where he went. Not too long after that my grandparents passed away but not before they spent a considerable sum, practically everything they had to find him. But they never did.”</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrxBOYhMJV9L-RqqZtgnO6bSuaVg-6SXoAp1OEan3VtYsIVhut32FwcubDCKs84P1aFdZzs2XfBfgjFYPtnpRgaIxpmq09qMxpE8HtIqEOAdLlltflDbVOPj0SvFMDwevFZx4rtA32hDw/s1600/Screenshot-485.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrxBOYhMJV9L-RqqZtgnO6bSuaVg-6SXoAp1OEan3VtYsIVhut32FwcubDCKs84P1aFdZzs2XfBfgjFYPtnpRgaIxpmq09qMxpE8HtIqEOAdLlltflDbVOPj0SvFMDwevFZx4rtA32hDw/s400/Screenshot-485.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><br />
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> “Shortly before I came to live with my aunt I started hearing a voice too. I’m so sorry I lied to you about that but it’s one of my darkest fears is to become like him even though I don’t know what has actually became of him. My uncle is the main reason why my Aunt became a psychiatrist; she grew up hearing his lucid conversations with his voice that was in his head. ” Sanguinello admitted as he moved away from me and towards the end of the bunk bed but I wasn’t going to have any of that as I pulled him back to me and I held on to him tighter than before pulling him back to the waiting pillow “Don’t…Don’t turn away from me Sanguinello. It’s ok, I understand why but I wish you would believe in me that I am here because I love you and whatever problems you will or are having it doesn’t matter. You can’t get rid of me so easily.” <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3WoKaYzQic6IMXL1EgsZqGszecnjE4_7XraUL9bNedv1XRhi3eTKEABjhMMTb86ElF1qvX6n9gVLcaCKa6kgUwN6TbBUnMcyqVdgYiId8d2MCeZDq8QYF8wfhc8irfD4r60APZb08BAY/s1600/Screenshot-486.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3WoKaYzQic6IMXL1EgsZqGszecnjE4_7XraUL9bNedv1XRhi3eTKEABjhMMTb86ElF1qvX6n9gVLcaCKa6kgUwN6TbBUnMcyqVdgYiId8d2MCeZDq8QYF8wfhc8irfD4r60APZb08BAY/s400/Screenshot-486.png" width="400" /></a></div><br />
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> “It never told me to do anything or said anything regarding myself and the berries around me. But it was like hearing someone else’s thoughts and their deepest darkest secrets; you know the kind that you never want anyone to find out. And they were filled sometimes with the most unusual names that I have never heard before, like Danielle and Hailey. For a day I thought that they could hear me too, but then she went silent. Everything went silent. I spent most of my time in a daze before my medication was switched. Then everything was chaos and I really don’t remember much of it. If I think hard enough I get flashes of what happened during that time and it’s enough to know that I really don’t want to remember any of it. So once again I got a new medication and for the first time I felt normal. It was like all the time I spent beforehand was like being like a fish out of water, always gasping for air when suddenly I could breathe. Suddenly I had control and I was in control of myself.”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMV2ZXKS2QncA01Pp_XcNPYS1UrQPcjYmPsPdxvJUuxs4LBHiBZDeQbpiv9EhP9T3MJYTD2azRo0zAdHS2HXWWdo1mLreiaqAXwE7dKvGuRzcR6HT4gvzaB8DkXvK2wODX3d_CMF9qAQY/s1600/Screenshot-489.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMV2ZXKS2QncA01Pp_XcNPYS1UrQPcjYmPsPdxvJUuxs4LBHiBZDeQbpiv9EhP9T3MJYTD2azRo0zAdHS2HXWWdo1mLreiaqAXwE7dKvGuRzcR6HT4gvzaB8DkXvK2wODX3d_CMF9qAQY/s400/Screenshot-489.png" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Now I find myself not in control again. In a few weeks I’ll be graduating and I’ll have to move out of the dorm.” Sanguinello said as he ended his story with a yawn as I felt my own eyes closing. His graduation was coming up quickly and it was something that we had both just put off dealing with. “Are you going to move back in with your Aunt?” I asked as I nestled in closer to him, feeling his heart beat through chest in a comforting rhythm. “I don’t know… I guess until I find a job that’s my only plan.” He answered with a sigh that echoed how I felt. I didn’t want things to change. I loved spending the night in his room in the warm and safe confines of his arms as we slept while his roommate was sleeping in Mizu’s room. With Sanguinello graduating and moving out of here I didn’t know how that would affect our relationship. The only thing I did know was that I wouldn’t be seeing him as often as I did now. As I listened to the thumping of heart I said almost anxiously “I know of a place where we could live together that is only a few blocks away.” <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI-ZpB79lWk98N88AXBgYoyME_mgnB9ytFxN0Ti3XrK0XK0N1MtjtpwMcCJOdTy6EVLXPP9-9EHvcokGp6pyt-9UwsOEuqvL9Au1Gy3bIsAnWQ6yXdjTahEdDf-3hmxF9Kwz5knahB67Y/s1600/Screenshot-488.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="206" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI-ZpB79lWk98N88AXBgYoyME_mgnB9ytFxN0Ti3XrK0XK0N1MtjtpwMcCJOdTy6EVLXPP9-9EHvcokGp6pyt-9UwsOEuqvL9Au1Gy3bIsAnWQ6yXdjTahEdDf-3hmxF9Kwz5knahB67Y/s400/Screenshot-488.png" width="400" /></a></div>cupcakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08521399676517388209noreply@blogger.com20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5466120303155862835.post-75241836044723604602012-02-06T00:21:00.000-08:002012-02-06T00:21:54.692-08:00The Meringue Rainbowcy-A Legacy Gone Technicolor Chapter 10 Generation Starry<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <o:OfficeDocumentSettings> <o:RelyOnVML/> <o:AllowPNG/> </o:OfficeDocumentSettings> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:WordDocument> <w:View>Normal</w:View> <w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:TrackMoves/> <w:TrackFormatting/> <w:PunctuationKerning/> <w:ValidateAgainstSchemas/> <w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:IgnoreMixedContent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:DoNotPromoteQF/> <w:LidThemeOther>EN-US</w:LidThemeOther> <w:LidThemeAsian>X-NONE</w:LidThemeAsian> <w:LidThemeComplexScript>X-NONE</w:LidThemeComplexScript> <w:Compatibility> <w:BreakWrappedTables/> <w:SnapToGridInCell/> <w:WrapTextWithPunct/> <w:UseAsianBreakRules/> <w:DontGrowAutofit/> <w:SplitPgBreakAndParaMark/> <w:EnableOpenTypeKerning/> <w:DontFlipMirrorIndents/> <w:OverrideTableStyleHps/> </w:Compatibility> <m:mathPr> <m:mathFont m:val="Cambria Math"/> <m:brkBin m:val="before"/> <m:brkBinSub m:val="--"/> <m:smallFrac m:val="off"/> <m:dispDef/> <m:lMargin m:val="0"/> <m:rMargin m:val="0"/> <m:defJc m:val="centerGroup"/> <m:wrapIndent m:val="1440"/> <m:intLim m:val="subSup"/> <m:naryLim m:val="undOvr"/> </m:mathPr></w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:LatentStyles DefLockedState="false" DefUnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu6lG0w85bRPdFOnmkgfeuWD11bIXP7Jk-z89fHBpIqEEYyP_CxamziiMjpb6WukhBtGwIDVu5yb8x_SWG9YXjRgl-kd7Or1Hni9kQxgBorglTpEgC8soCYt76Cs8esq9iVeqOTogfvYM/s1600/Siggy6.0.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="90" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu6lG0w85bRPdFOnmkgfeuWD11bIXP7Jk-z89fHBpIqEEYyP_CxamziiMjpb6WukhBtGwIDVu5yb8x_SWG9YXjRgl-kd7Or1Hni9kQxgBorglTpEgC8soCYt76Cs8esq9iVeqOTogfvYM/s400/Siggy6.0.png" width="400" /></a></div><a name='more'></a><br />
<div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"> The more time I spent with Sanguinello the hard I fell for a boy with a tormented past. As time slipped by he eventually began to open up with me a little more, bit by bit and piece by piece. And slowly a better picture of who Sanguinello was began to form, though a lot of things were still pretty much a mystery. I came to relish his sudden bouts of passion even if they did make me feel like I was about to cross over an edge that I wasn’t ready to. But it was exciting to find myself up against a wall while he kissed me as his hands would roam making me want to whisper that I was indeed ready. But I never was, I didn’t want to have my first time in an empty laundry room at 3 am because I had lost my head in a kiss from Sanguinello. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBbqyAlE4RqipzCYQHruAzXiKKerJ2EvkrcJ9YSzxRDcVdPYieYzYrrlsPPkGd8L6Pr4I7bWBE5yRuL6ue0XrW03PuCaOwS0DgERLqUTRojQ3jdQHYNsey4_Rj3I-QyNVaB9qDsUcXnwk/s1600/Screenshot-3285.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBbqyAlE4RqipzCYQHruAzXiKKerJ2EvkrcJ9YSzxRDcVdPYieYzYrrlsPPkGd8L6Pr4I7bWBE5yRuL6ue0XrW03PuCaOwS0DgERLqUTRojQ3jdQHYNsey4_Rj3I-QyNVaB9qDsUcXnwk/s400/Screenshot-3285.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">“Sometimes I feel like you are going to lose patience with me.” I said after ending one of our make out sessions that border lined turning into something else, especially this close to my bed. “Why would I lose patience with you?” Sanguinello asked while still holding me while he leaned on my shoulder without any obvious intentions of moving away yet “Because you’ve done this before and each time you’re probably expecting it to happen but you keep getting shot down by me.” I answered while he gave me an odd look. “I’ve never done you know… it… before.” He said <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>while shifting nervously as he began to play with my knitted skirt. <i>Please don’t unravel it</i> I thought silently while thinking of his idle hands while he finished answering. “I told you I have to kind of get used to people and the idea of physical contact with them.” <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3tIwqNnrkgzntsv3sxDdcD6lzQvEjTfcXKiucKj3Hi1bO8hNjBT0yX9ZK4_hyfsM0DgM7sZeHgIIEVbpU-UNtgEbIeR-TweaItu94ewl-yWpb3ZGYlKRWMJdXx2j5cowOC564HK814D0/s1600/Screenshot-3288.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3tIwqNnrkgzntsv3sxDdcD6lzQvEjTfcXKiucKj3Hi1bO8hNjBT0yX9ZK4_hyfsM0DgM7sZeHgIIEVbpU-UNtgEbIeR-TweaItu94ewl-yWpb3ZGYlKRWMJdXx2j5cowOC564HK814D0/s400/Screenshot-3288.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal">“But you always seem to know exactly what you are doing compared to me. I feel like sometimes I’m just trying to keep up with you when we mess around.” I confessed after getting over the initial surprise that Sanguinello had probably just as much experience as I did in this department. “I try to turn off my mind and live in the moment which is easy when there is only one thought at that moment. And give into it instead of clumsily trying to fight it. So if I want to let’s say touch you here” he said while tracing his finger lazily down my back and to my bra line where it ended it trail. “I just do so until you let me know when to stop.” </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIy2vorJ8UWuiCXvM1ksstoQd2VyYI6ElMDGH2ba6ISsPr1ramwkMBLj8RtOOxn2L0wUbQJBJ2_7YIj4IsctZRGX2VmMwlkzUG_RCdoKqFsyFOHzacZs3UvumSYfbQCELV44fb-NRgGnE/s1600/Screenshot-3290.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIy2vorJ8UWuiCXvM1ksstoQd2VyYI6ElMDGH2ba6ISsPr1ramwkMBLj8RtOOxn2L0wUbQJBJ2_7YIj4IsctZRGX2VmMwlkzUG_RCdoKqFsyFOHzacZs3UvumSYfbQCELV44fb-NRgGnE/s400/Screenshot-3290.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I did eventually find out where he would disappear to every weekend like clockwork. “So you really just go to your Aunt’s every weekend?” I asked in surprise when he told me a Friday afternoon after he had gotten out of class. We had just come back from a summer break a few days ago and it felt so good to see him again. I spent the summer in between my parent’s house and visiting Shadow Sea so I didn’t really get to see Sanguinello that much during the break since he was off doing his own thing too. Emails, texting and telephone calls were abound though that often lead in to the next day, filling in the void of not being able to see him every day. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9qqRHKuAxok3q4Ldsg56ieyzLVtucmLEyZQj0COlj1NVp2j0cmbwChFAva6Pavs-HSiGUv__NaLi62-5Nax78c4jGmyk_LqXjx6OwK0ZkPFvu66QICUsMkggG7QloE3ZFdB2H9YZKwUY/s1600/Screenshot-3302.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9qqRHKuAxok3q4Ldsg56ieyzLVtucmLEyZQj0COlj1NVp2j0cmbwChFAva6Pavs-HSiGUv__NaLi62-5Nax78c4jGmyk_LqXjx6OwK0ZkPFvu66QICUsMkggG7QloE3ZFdB2H9YZKwUY/s400/Screenshot-3302.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">“Yeah, not so exciting is it? Where did you think I went? Did you think I had some rich lady who required my ‘services’ only on the weekends?” Sanguinello teased with a smile before leering at me as he raised his eyebrow suggestively. “I don’t know.” I replied instead of telling him all the crazy thoughts that went through every Friday through Sunday night until he would suddenly return without a word. I didn’t want to seem like some insecure girlfriend, especially now that I was actually his girlfriend. But now that he was telling me where he went I was curious as to why he went there so often and why it was some big secret with him. Going to his Aunt’s house seemed like nothing to me as I went to my Aunt and Uncle’s house often with my cousin. So I asked him “Why do you go there every weekend? And what’s the big deal you could have just told me ages ago that you went to her house.” </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwOE4NpnHivYotPCPl0E0yPCr_fiGii5Kffx8jMNBvZi1qx-vXmOUiIGScphE1Utn1k1drmYjXFJFAeY0h_oyE8iQqYDeo5g9fQzV46jCgPaDtRWTdfgu0YwKrldvW5LRqaYoBXhxPiWg/s1600/Screenshot-3308.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwOE4NpnHivYotPCPl0E0yPCr_fiGii5Kffx8jMNBvZi1qx-vXmOUiIGScphE1Utn1k1drmYjXFJFAeY0h_oyE8iQqYDeo5g9fQzV46jCgPaDtRWTdfgu0YwKrldvW5LRqaYoBXhxPiWg/s400/Screenshot-3308.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">“Reasons I assure you that you’ll find out eventually.” And as he said this I scrunched up my face in preparation to protest this while he quickly recovered. Holding his two hands up in front of me as he gestured to me to hold on Sanguinello continued “I want you to come with me next weekend… To my aunt’s I mean. I want to introduce you to her.” </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNQOQVhG2BWn_Q6AMaOvsicU_PfFTl1AO-6bUlCcMniLn8Dpa_p0W3JotaYyRHhyphenhyphenm7uLuMBAuiaxeLVbT247E34qZ1ofcfxoaZKUBoJ9ZtFHNRw9KmXSWoF17m0m74gvShDTFSbixiM2s/s1600/Screenshot-3294.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNQOQVhG2BWn_Q6AMaOvsicU_PfFTl1AO-6bUlCcMniLn8Dpa_p0W3JotaYyRHhyphenhyphenm7uLuMBAuiaxeLVbT247E34qZ1ofcfxoaZKUBoJ9ZtFHNRw9KmXSWoF17m0m74gvShDTFSbixiM2s/s400/Screenshot-3294.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">“You do? Really?” I almost squeaked in surprise as I fought the urge to wrap my arms around him and cover him in kisses. The prospect of meeting his Aunt was exciting since she was at the center of Sanguinello’s little world and seemed like a big step for him that he was taking for me. “Yeah, You’re important to me and I want you to be a part of my life completely. Plus I told her about you since the beginning of last school year and she really wants to meet you.” </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDUUl4MgBFrG5kXQF_FvI3sQjsGUxDPbFtk2IiRb3LL3m4UIWqrxpZinE7YZBmdDWezHv51LVbwr2OPjnHLqNQ-AoJDKR6diQ92tGyzgMpk5a73XbN3woOQuYsKmACrVHe1AJtPKK5vRg/s1600/Screenshot-3309.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDUUl4MgBFrG5kXQF_FvI3sQjsGUxDPbFtk2IiRb3LL3m4UIWqrxpZinE7YZBmdDWezHv51LVbwr2OPjnHLqNQ-AoJDKR6diQ92tGyzgMpk5a73XbN3woOQuYsKmACrVHe1AJtPKK5vRg/s400/Screenshot-3309.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">After I got over my initial happiness I began to worry, what if she didn’t like me? I had never had to deal with meeting a guy’s mother and I knew that it was something that my sisters fretted over, that first meeting. And I hadn’t exactly won over Sanguinello’s friends with my charming personality yet. Toff was polite but Mizu was off putting to me. It was Thursday night, the night before Sanguinello and I were going to go to his Aunt’s house for the weekend. We were hanging out with Mizu and Toff in their room when Mizu requested “Sanguinello come up with me to the corner store, I want to pick up some twizzle sticks.” </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBYUDFkqUim6R6M_jbb5tL8y1riswplT0SnUPXL6_uZ6asirjz8hVvyDagBBgjyiS8O2-stDya-y_gHt7j95QAuoE7Jf06YsRfAMqZVvRujy-JMqxFs67YNzJ_-PwTLeHpdRiJKXtuvfE/s1600/Screenshot-3311.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBYUDFkqUim6R6M_jbb5tL8y1riswplT0SnUPXL6_uZ6asirjz8hVvyDagBBgjyiS8O2-stDya-y_gHt7j95QAuoE7Jf06YsRfAMqZVvRujy-JMqxFs67YNzJ_-PwTLeHpdRiJKXtuvfE/s400/Screenshot-3311.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">“You want us to come with you too?” Toff asked her but she just shook her head and said “No we’ll be fine. I just need to have a talk with Sanguinello about something. Be back in a flash.” As they left I scowled at the door after it closed and wondered out loud forgetting for a moment that Toff was even there seated not even 6 feet away from me. “Ohhh come on…Why does she hate me? What did I ever do to her?” </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnI7IGXXiWYQ0cWcy1GAoVqC80VTZOn3D1kcE3a5vG7DD87yEAqL0j0NDXC7iMDxbrkScJeVsQU2Xr5ABESK8UV5BakVgYyHNaM6S1MU8P7PfPD1HzawIX8BjpGrW8xktx4Uea2M6kygQ/s1600/Screenshot-3313.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnI7IGXXiWYQ0cWcy1GAoVqC80VTZOn3D1kcE3a5vG7DD87yEAqL0j0NDXC7iMDxbrkScJeVsQU2Xr5ABESK8UV5BakVgYyHNaM6S1MU8P7PfPD1HzawIX8BjpGrW8xktx4Uea2M6kygQ/s400/Screenshot-3313.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">“It’s not that she doesn’t like you.” Toff said from me behind me making me almost jump out of my skin. “It’s just that she’s over protective of Sanguinello. She’s known him longer than I have. He kind of wanted to date her when he still lived back in Huckleberry Sprigs, but I kinda got there first and Mizu never had those kinds of feelings in return for him.” Toff replied with an answer that surprised me. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkzQmIKCWogOBr55j5ueo3zb5OU8UVXesvBV-cw2DVBGMZU2T4hVEBIwY68dkErp0CrhqDTj5rRhXN7DrWilzGjMprXEOlH1N1njfpwkQAI9SXS8fxAXQW2QJ7COI02kB1PBbO5Y8cc8k/s1600/Screenshot-3314.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkzQmIKCWogOBr55j5ueo3zb5OU8UVXesvBV-cw2DVBGMZU2T4hVEBIwY68dkErp0CrhqDTj5rRhXN7DrWilzGjMprXEOlH1N1njfpwkQAI9SXS8fxAXQW2QJ7COI02kB1PBbO5Y8cc8k/s400/Screenshot-3314.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">“Sanguinello liked Mizu?” I asked in confusion. Sanguinello never mentioned having any previous feelings for Mizu or any still there feelings for her. “Yeah… But it was ages ago and he eventually got over it. Though I still feel bad about it, I mean we were all best friends and I didn’t even know that he liked her. I should have told him that Mizu and I started dating when we did instead of him finding out the night he put his dad into the hospital. Sometimes I blame myself for that happening and I think Mizu does too.” </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9zjpwT3huaqFAX9Yr2CvO5ZP5bi3r5dv7dg4zoFvI48RaJw0LWxDVJvJYUOyEGqnOG02-wWFvBSqMyI9_Hfc64J4ARpr3Wx9jxuWHbP3ibXcAKXOTrizY9XweggUXJvd_ElUXsdGsSd4/s1600/Screenshot-3315.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9zjpwT3huaqFAX9Yr2CvO5ZP5bi3r5dv7dg4zoFvI48RaJw0LWxDVJvJYUOyEGqnOG02-wWFvBSqMyI9_Hfc64J4ARpr3Wx9jxuWHbP3ibXcAKXOTrizY9XweggUXJvd_ElUXsdGsSd4/s400/Screenshot-3315.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">“Why are you telling me this?” I asked because all of last year neither one of Sanguinello’s friends had ever offered up any information on him and were completely hush on anything that had to do with his past the same as he was. “I guess because I know how much he likes you. Fudge he actually told us about you and you know how he can be. I mean I don’t ever think I’ve seen him feel the way he does about anyone the way he feels about you and I don’t want for him to lose you because he is afraid to share certain things about himself.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5D4r15JICNb2Lwx4zc6sgS6t73oYC0x7gMpwDZxyGE0v1t73PNHKE9mFhmjgStd777teagmUeZm7jDMjFB8jfOcSJYvAwNKjsw3omrvA7m-IvFCTveGm74vHYC4nUYP03_32zURTbFZg/s1600/Screenshot-3317.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5D4r15JICNb2Lwx4zc6sgS6t73oYC0x7gMpwDZxyGE0v1t73PNHKE9mFhmjgStd777teagmUeZm7jDMjFB8jfOcSJYvAwNKjsw3omrvA7m-IvFCTveGm74vHYC4nUYP03_32zURTbFZg/s400/Screenshot-3317.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">“So you liked Mizu?” I asked Sanguinello while he walked me up to my room. And he looked at me in surprise before he put it together “Toff told you, I take it?” Sanguinello asked as I opened my door and followed me into the empty room. Can-Can was off at classes after she switched her schedule around to take a bartending class that was offered to all the culinary students this semester. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgZ8SaAw7TeJSrhfNuFmAUXNpKNizY9WT9ANApW20z5-Vg0ydan4M-IgEB90xE_9JrQRhe7fyWz9J_o0XpGG4bK-LAdNM0OoFnpjLC_J78VucgBeKFK7bO5P0uzVSR7B7xQxcNr9R2mSY/s1600/Screenshot-3319.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgZ8SaAw7TeJSrhfNuFmAUXNpKNizY9WT9ANApW20z5-Vg0ydan4M-IgEB90xE_9JrQRhe7fyWz9J_o0XpGG4bK-LAdNM0OoFnpjLC_J78VucgBeKFK7bO5P0uzVSR7B7xQxcNr9R2mSY/s400/Screenshot-3319.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">“Yeah… I did back before I moved to the city, I sort of developed a crush on her. She’s always been there for me and was my only friend until Toff moved to Huckleberry Sprigs when we were little. But you know it’s was for the best that Toff and her ended up together and even though it hurt back then, it was for the best. They are more than happy together I don’t think anything or anyone out there could break the two of them up. And I met you; if I was with Mizu I don’t think I would have been a good boyfriend around you. Because when I am with you I’m happy, you, you make me feel happy. It doesn’t bother you that I used to have feelings for her does it? Because I would never do anything to hurt you Starry, I’d rather hurt myself than hurt you.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKJJKAotA1HAcglD7ueiLUocIOQ-gWbOKI_8LtJaF_1Wq0kyfp1_tOT_EK2WlO3AEs5M83f9yUVkxPtwKF4Z59iuOt4NOAcUto-oxJbBd87n1HmCsGk70Da5WlS85Is7jBzs2wBTk6tlk/s1600/Screenshot-3320.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKJJKAotA1HAcglD7ueiLUocIOQ-gWbOKI_8LtJaF_1Wq0kyfp1_tOT_EK2WlO3AEs5M83f9yUVkxPtwKF4Z59iuOt4NOAcUto-oxJbBd87n1HmCsGk70Da5WlS85Is7jBzs2wBTk6tlk/s400/Screenshot-3320.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">“I know. Sanguinello, I know.” I didn’t know how I did but I knew somehow that Sanguinello would rather crawl across broken glass than to ever break my heart. At the same time I was unsure of myself for letting me go this far with him, for letting my feelings for him go on as they did. Even though I knew that he would never hurt me still there was one blaring fact that ran through my head and that was first loves rarely ever work out. No one ever ends up with the first person they date, living happily ever after. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisNhrTOMm1iwv9kJN3Uu0U1cf-nJXSR-k1GKG5Fxr65RAJVCbu3CYOrw8ItdRlggPMErktkjFow7plkj3Ji3NYY7_jJikAVaz2CMQhu1cWWYnpjnAFQdP_RKXs4bZe_HiWbyrYz1kYRTU/s1600/Screenshot-3321.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisNhrTOMm1iwv9kJN3Uu0U1cf-nJXSR-k1GKG5Fxr65RAJVCbu3CYOrw8ItdRlggPMErktkjFow7plkj3Ji3NYY7_jJikAVaz2CMQhu1cWWYnpjnAFQdP_RKXs4bZe_HiWbyrYz1kYRTU/s400/Screenshot-3321.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">Meeting his Aunt I would like to say went well. She looked a lot like Sanguinello and requested that I’d call her by her name Fina. I found out that she was a doctor and that her house was one of the original homes built in Briocheporte. Beautifully maintained except for Sanguinello's room, it was well over a couple hundreds of years old and worth more than a fortune, she reminded me as she also added with a rueful smile under her breath that it had been a steal from her ex-husband in their divorce settlement. Everything was going so well that I didn’t know why I had been worried now, it seemed so trivial and stupid of me. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJVebooplypkPJ4uWaROelx-CyPOCFYlwwfr6sVPjXpd3RBT_QusDPSUjraoVF5S_bqIf1n0r_z4RSsxc3mYEUH0BTo8oPROKkmgoTAPoI8JHkExdfhJxqb83HD4VI0AeqVOYDctkPfnw/s1600/Screenshot-3346.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJVebooplypkPJ4uWaROelx-CyPOCFYlwwfr6sVPjXpd3RBT_QusDPSUjraoVF5S_bqIf1n0r_z4RSsxc3mYEUH0BTo8oPROKkmgoTAPoI8JHkExdfhJxqb83HD4VI0AeqVOYDctkPfnw/s400/Screenshot-3346.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">That is until Saturday night, Sanguinello and I were in his room listening to some of his music just hanging out as he showed me some family books. “I’m going to go get a drink you want me to get you something too?” I asked feeling strangely at home with him in this house. “If you want I can run down and get it for you myself.” Sanguinello offered uncertainly as his eyes glanced around the room, but I just shook my head. “Nah, its ok maybe I’ll get some of that leftover pasta that Fina made us for dinner.” </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4UGV8DyEun_leyWIX18W53NFoTqq8s7JbZXMuKQvE7mmDu-wIFGpjeZnX1cZZ2th6Ir1-1R0IDPgxbyjGup8ktKTn1ZWWgyOpt81LRaxJFg1jgMdrY-z8vC5u1qIrHoB__z4VOnMPUyc/s1600/Screenshot-3348.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4UGV8DyEun_leyWIX18W53NFoTqq8s7JbZXMuKQvE7mmDu-wIFGpjeZnX1cZZ2th6Ir1-1R0IDPgxbyjGup8ktKTn1ZWWgyOpt81LRaxJFg1jgMdrY-z8vC5u1qIrHoB__z4VOnMPUyc/s400/Screenshot-3348.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">With a quick kiss to his forehead I lightly hurried downstairs trying not to wake his Aunt up. But it turned out that she was awake and sitting on a counter while eating bon-bons in the kitchen. “Oh I didn’t know you would be up.” I said lamely as I hung by the kitchen doorway, unsure if I should have just gone back upstairs quietly. “It’s ok dear help yourself.” She said beckoning to me to come in “Thank-you.” I said as I went to fetch a drink for myself, the pasta had been momentarily forgotten though its heavy fragrance called my name after I opened the refrigerator door. My hand settled on the Tupperware container longingly before it moved to a bottle of water as I started to close the door. “So umm goodnight.” I said turning to quickly hop up the stairs and back into the waiting arms of Sanguinello so we could stay up until the sun came up and watch it slowly rise through the buildings like we had the previous night together. But Fina’s voice stopped me as I reached the kitchen doorway “Starry?” </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm9fxS4agGh18TSEOmTxWt_fi75Cnbc66BZ8eKgS4ZncBklNoN_G-lmFj0vxJqbJORvMX4HlYlvtQQqRG7oMSV06BD__S04uI09-NxF_ypmXxdvKpHvV-y7GSkeeaUHg5nldyqAg9xq3k/s1600/Screenshot-3327.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm9fxS4agGh18TSEOmTxWt_fi75Cnbc66BZ8eKgS4ZncBklNoN_G-lmFj0vxJqbJORvMX4HlYlvtQQqRG7oMSV06BD__S04uI09-NxF_ypmXxdvKpHvV-y7GSkeeaUHg5nldyqAg9xq3k/s400/Screenshot-3327.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Look you are a nice girl but don’t get too serious about Sanguinello.” Mrs. Moro said to me just as I was about to leave, her words made me stop right in my tracks and retrace my steps back into the kitchen. “Why? I’m 19, he’s 20 we’re both adults plus Sanguinello and I really like each other.” I asked her but she sighed and shook her head. “Sanguinello isn’t like everyone else. He...He has some problems you’ve must have noticed by now. It’s one of the reasons why he is here and no longer living with his parents, had I not been a psychiatrist myself he would have been sent to a specialized home instead when he was a teenager. It’s only been under my care that he has been doing so well.” </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS2wpkVr4TvOTLYx7fGIAxPk8pJC_LI1p54oSaRMGx6ryVlWGW6P3IagtAj0UNBgsWKB9kBP_NgJKp9wg-T39BflCNBtcAswgMl8Qoe4uFCeK-E_rMSEuGyR4KMPjfUe4lI__mp90z7fM/s1600/Screenshot-3331.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS2wpkVr4TvOTLYx7fGIAxPk8pJC_LI1p54oSaRMGx6ryVlWGW6P3IagtAj0UNBgsWKB9kBP_NgJKp9wg-T39BflCNBtcAswgMl8Qoe4uFCeK-E_rMSEuGyR4KMPjfUe4lI__mp90z7fM/s400/Screenshot-3331.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Mrs.’s Moro’s words sunk slowly into my head that night as I tried to push them away but as I looked at him while he excitedly explained his new art project in hurried words and a more than rushed voice making his words blend into a steady stream I knew in my heart that she was right on some level.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyIiSsfiiGj9Hu6Qh30jZoUilcJGAMhGQaGl8rrnCOy_0KbhhoLyg0b4ZBKYj6yVOWjxeSnqE4DPA1-qre71VMZ4GBIdxFSytBnOTFuQ164r0Izhc7T1gQRcPF1gRONbAs1rRWOf5I198/s1600/Screenshot-3352.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyIiSsfiiGj9Hu6Qh30jZoUilcJGAMhGQaGl8rrnCOy_0KbhhoLyg0b4ZBKYj6yVOWjxeSnqE4DPA1-qre71VMZ4GBIdxFSytBnOTFuQ164r0Izhc7T1gQRcPF1gRONbAs1rRWOf5I198/s400/Screenshot-3352.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">But that didn’t stop me from trying to find or look out from anything that would disprove it. I loved Sanguinello even though I was very far from admitting it. And I didn’t want anything to be wrong with him. He was perfect to me, someone that was patient with me and my temper and that made me feel things that I never felt before for another. I didn’t want there to be anything that could break us apart for any reason. As naïve as it sounded I knew deep down inside that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with him, my first love.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj51MMcuL3LCBQAZIclsF07nTxKlgG3MUo4ZggeLHqx-dln3Ti6Gx0yT9v_Jd8t3eoBC_CUvm_30kKlJ_3ueLmJEhaphNmjkbeaW3N-xNmEtdaj1MYKX0ufenW2umKUfkflKKrqDUQBM88/s1600/Screenshot-3324.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj51MMcuL3LCBQAZIclsF07nTxKlgG3MUo4ZggeLHqx-dln3Ti6Gx0yT9v_Jd8t3eoBC_CUvm_30kKlJ_3ueLmJEhaphNmjkbeaW3N-xNmEtdaj1MYKX0ufenW2umKUfkflKKrqDUQBM88/s400/Screenshot-3324.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">Sunday night we were packing to go head back to our dorms when Sanguinello had to grab a few things from the basement that he wanted to take back. If his Aunt was telling the truth and not trying to scare me away then there was probably something around here especially in his room where I was right now. Alone. The first time since we got here Sanguinello left me alone in his room and here I was about to break his trust as I went on a rummaging rampage. But I didn’t have to do anything through looking because it had been right in front of me this whole time. Barely hidden under a cloth a few yellow bottles with white lids peaked out.</div><div class="MsoNormal"> As I spied the prescription bottles on his dresser my curiosity got the best of me, so I walked over and quickly picked them up. Reading them I saw Sanguinello’s name printed neatly on the label followed by directions and long names that looked more than intimidating. They were long and confusing like the printer just threw up a bunch of letters and called it a name. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After struggling to pronounce the name of it Sanguinello easy pronounced it quietly from behind me which made me drop the bottle of pills on the floor cause the cap to come off and the contents to spill on the ground.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidbX_-2zcNi2Hj58kJkAuTCBXLWfzLZt9fcyt-aj8QT2hQncHocDkNUMJI9nqsasCd0IKhW4uEyuQ7_ZSwtkicyUeuwrRU9ACmtCf9IipkOukx9j_Pp6S6kh-tvXscZhONzn6GA2btFEk/s1600/Screenshot-3332.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidbX_-2zcNi2Hj58kJkAuTCBXLWfzLZt9fcyt-aj8QT2hQncHocDkNUMJI9nqsasCd0IKhW4uEyuQ7_ZSwtkicyUeuwrRU9ACmtCf9IipkOukx9j_Pp6S6kh-tvXscZhONzn6GA2btFEk/s400/Screenshot-3332.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"> With a sigh Sanguinello just lowered himself to the floor to retrieve them and put them back into the bottle. “What… Umm… What are they for?” I asked as I bent down to help him to pick up the pills that laid scattered all over the floor. “Don’t... Don’t touch them.” He said as he scrambled to pick the rest up quickly with his hands mixing in the different colored pills together in his hands before answering my question in a vague way without telling me exactly what they were for but just enough to make me know enough about them to not question them anymore. His breath was uneven as his came quickly in and out of him, his voice breaking as he said “They’re for me. I have to take them every day basically to be as normal as I could ever be.” </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJJRYn30ucf0N_sDCrveYBv80BjgciwJc6hyphenhyphenUAwjh74iMe2xpzmUrf1s8QgtONWJHD-W0APR77b8XJljB69FLbXMXaP4I1vOrXEb5mKJ7Ww0-Ntu8hL4FMbIqutyLV1VVwzZDY_eXsGTA/s1600/Screenshot-3338.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJJRYn30ucf0N_sDCrveYBv80BjgciwJc6hyphenhyphenUAwjh74iMe2xpzmUrf1s8QgtONWJHD-W0APR77b8XJljB69FLbXMXaP4I1vOrXEb5mKJ7Ww0-Ntu8hL4FMbIqutyLV1VVwzZDY_eXsGTA/s400/Screenshot-3338.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">“Oh.” Was all I could say, for the first time I felt truly speechless. Thoughts floated through my mind but none of them seemed right to say without being taken as offense. What do you say to someone that been hiding something like this to you without hurting or offending their feelings? There were so many questions that I wanted to ask but found myself unable to. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpSPeS5BF92aehML0bLw-wuUYzsGIfcJ9FRdZahDa6Ulf7dqTtk8zgW8PePsd2Kv23FuUp0CnPYYrkbe5jqA5wIMU3VTiD6bMND-pCIHvqYxdzL0cPHjWyFmeqXIJydoGOxmnQprNEcIQ/s1600/Screenshot-3344.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpSPeS5BF92aehML0bLw-wuUYzsGIfcJ9FRdZahDa6Ulf7dqTtk8zgW8PePsd2Kv23FuUp0CnPYYrkbe5jqA5wIMU3VTiD6bMND-pCIHvqYxdzL0cPHjWyFmeqXIJydoGOxmnQprNEcIQ/s400/Screenshot-3344.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">Looking at me I could see traces of sadness and regret in his eyes that did more than just tug at my heart strings, as he said “I never wanted to be like this. It’s hard to explain sometimes but it’s not like I hear voices or anything... I… I’m not really comfortable talking with you about it. But I don’t want you to have to worry about it so please just continue to treat me normally as you would anyone else. This doesn’t have to change anything between us. Please just let us keep going the way we are. Don’t let me lose you because of something that has already made my life hell.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSwrjpJMNz5kPCt8Zod4eqFXM0F9adReThgEZ8nIuN4dEdMIj5k0KFnTa4M0Vvaym3i7r5Pr6R5wetZFYiYQFFPlHQg2kRplozYjMAAwRyerrw4KcuDGywmtXEoGoYyeaQxur7eGGe-oo/s1600/Screenshot-3339.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSwrjpJMNz5kPCt8Zod4eqFXM0F9adReThgEZ8nIuN4dEdMIj5k0KFnTa4M0Vvaym3i7r5Pr6R5wetZFYiYQFFPlHQg2kRplozYjMAAwRyerrw4KcuDGywmtXEoGoYyeaQxur7eGGe-oo/s400/Screenshot-3339.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div>cupcakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08521399676517388209noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5466120303155862835.post-64720390615933954462012-01-31T21:00:00.000-08:002012-02-01T08:37:11.660-08:00The Meringue Rainbowcy-A Legacy Gone Technicolor Chapter 9 Generation Starry<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-FKVyCvrVKHisdFsh5Tergs2ALRkOPiBnMc3XGTWXV5-Ds21DCr7HEvU38-o_gOBRj7WdRz_9iFIVlT23g670MV8F-L05eipfjRXAL7Lz6yF9KScSGQiOePzBNV83kVerxRbVTjP3Is8/s1600/Siggy6.0.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="90" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-FKVyCvrVKHisdFsh5Tergs2ALRkOPiBnMc3XGTWXV5-Ds21DCr7HEvU38-o_gOBRj7WdRz_9iFIVlT23g670MV8F-L05eipfjRXAL7Lz6yF9KScSGQiOePzBNV83kVerxRbVTjP3Is8/s400/Siggy6.0.png" width="400" /></a></div><a name='more'></a><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">One would think my life might have fallen together like pieces of a puzzle that suddenly became aligned. That Sanguinello and I would easily make a couple but that was further than the truth in the beginning. If I thought I had walls up that kept people out Sanguinello had a whole fortress that was near impenetrable. At first I chalked it up to nerves but it was hard to get close to Sanguinello both figuratively and literally. He avoided any questions about his past, refusing to answer them beyond. “I lived with my Aunt while I was in high school.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCaYI2a_V0JJ1gKWaxmV5p7IqKdZbxdutNMFtAJGtKBI3yPZG7mKXoVxOe-uc-h8_ntopUZszt6i0XO0lQPZmJ3QlInw2_RODNX7N8yX2qBJYUq6Op2k9YBVIx7jY57BFbY56XGYfaSeM/s1600/Screenshot-3156.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCaYI2a_V0JJ1gKWaxmV5p7IqKdZbxdutNMFtAJGtKBI3yPZG7mKXoVxOe-uc-h8_ntopUZszt6i0XO0lQPZmJ3QlInw2_RODNX7N8yX2qBJYUq6Op2k9YBVIx7jY57BFbY56XGYfaSeM/s400/Screenshot-3156.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">It wasn't until I asked Ms Grey who turned out to be a girl named Mizu how she and Toff knew Sanguinello their whole lives after finding out that she and her boyfriend were from Huckleberry Sprigs. "Oh that's because Sanguinello was from Huckleberry Sprigs too. We all grew up together there." Mizu said as she finished applying another coat of gloss to her lips after I had run into her in the girls bathroom and had enough of Sanguinello's secretiveness to ask her about him. It was dingy as usually a place where girls either came in to grab a quick smoke instead of going outside or just to get in and out as quickly as possible.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEij7yi-_svITtgYp-lPqbfG9TGhHQepsy0Mhxn-zB4ZvYAGz0z479cyA6gNq86y10wQ0aIp-4TNrXSyp_LSNsD3A9Rp76Z4gd-EmfSiE1P7liqV5Zx96Gw2yRh7WNZIREn3GQ773Z4iYAg/s1600/Screenshot-3119.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEij7yi-_svITtgYp-lPqbfG9TGhHQepsy0Mhxn-zB4ZvYAGz0z479cyA6gNq86y10wQ0aIp-4TNrXSyp_LSNsD3A9Rp76Z4gd-EmfSiE1P7liqV5Zx96Gw2yRh7WNZIREn3GQ773Z4iYAg/s400/Screenshot-3119.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">"Did something happen to his parents?" I asked as my mind jumped to conclusions that they must be dead or something and it was just too painful for Sanguinello to talk about it. Oh my berry I'm a horrible not yet girlfriend. I began to think to myself before Mizu answered. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV9A14tbekJL55HdPat584_Cj4LjzndqcotAtl-Vcymr2khtTbqu6iRVCSzN8gfPHMeClB7E8dRV3ibc9Fyo25_BpEtL5_4l5s19XxG4CxCkg-seu8sjJG18kVkeFeH2FFDEkH_YYPElk/s1600/Screenshot-3122.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV9A14tbekJL55HdPat584_Cj4LjzndqcotAtl-Vcymr2khtTbqu6iRVCSzN8gfPHMeClB7E8dRV3ibc9Fyo25_BpEtL5_4l5s19XxG4CxCkg-seu8sjJG18kVkeFeH2FFDEkH_YYPElk/s400/Screenshot-3122.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">"I guess you could say so. But they're still alive and well living in Huckleberry Sprigs if that's what you mean." Her frame stiffened before she replied and as Mizu said this she turned to look at me. “Sanguinello is really a great guy and I don’t know what the future hold for you two but I need you to promise me one thing, that you won’t break his heart? He likes you a lot and I don’t want him get broken.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYe4NrGqy1uwyvyJzNet2I6coXDnpOZ6BHnf80xtyWndgoxLIfYyFaN24zxgx9FgGOb9jwP0sMQYMMTPwDHKCgd9vOYdPauQbj8H7y6L3D3zB31IuNYlA59VfDfmdLyz8curGgirfq0Ag/s1600/Screenshot-3120.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYe4NrGqy1uwyvyJzNet2I6coXDnpOZ6BHnf80xtyWndgoxLIfYyFaN24zxgx9FgGOb9jwP0sMQYMMTPwDHKCgd9vOYdPauQbj8H7y6L3D3zB31IuNYlA59VfDfmdLyz8curGgirfq0Ag/s400/Screenshot-3120.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">“Why would I break his heart?” I asked instead of making any promises to the girl I had rarely talked to before today. “I don’t know. I really don’t know you but I know Sanguinello and I really don’t want to see him get hurt.” She replied before she left me alone in the girl’s bathroom with my thoughts.</div><div class="MsoNormal">Mizu’s and my conversation left me bewildered but not as much as Sanguinello himself did.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNGDk5GBwFif2KLDVdBpQqDy5Tkln20ZQc1sGTpN95Ho2y-mY554ETRzyZB8ZftgYQcaPqcMg2lXmiOFLc_XU21wgvTf6G86a2A9sMRKovEZ-WIpif8MAlZGuMsQE8rbDCUfEiHAAeb54/s1600/Screenshot-3124.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNGDk5GBwFif2KLDVdBpQqDy5Tkln20ZQc1sGTpN95Ho2y-mY554ETRzyZB8ZftgYQcaPqcMg2lXmiOFLc_XU21wgvTf6G86a2A9sMRKovEZ-WIpif8MAlZGuMsQE8rbDCUfEiHAAeb54/s400/Screenshot-3124.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">On weekends he would disappear only to return Sunday night without a word of where he had been the whole time. “Where’s Sanguinello?” I asked his roommate who turned out to be Toff the first weekend after he had given me the sketch. I looked everywhere for the boy but turned up with nothing. “Uhh he’s out. When Friday hits he’s gone after class’s dude.” Toff answered without even looking up from the video game he was playing by himself. I didn’t want to seem like the needy girlfriend when we weren’t even at that point yet. We weren’t even technically dating yet. As of now we were only at the get to know each other point. So I didn’t ask him and he didn’t tell me. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWFnRRhk-dg8OjEF4Ejc2_APT1TVx76Ku19kDnn-hegS8mvMZdFtBv56mabDnZsJwus7wU_yB9AuRFF8IVE_zfQQ0VgbOwUwW_nN0XRF4ig2I4MIlh4Q8J7lJhPfzinQtjhZP1KlhFdrU/s1600/Screenshot-3117.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWFnRRhk-dg8OjEF4Ejc2_APT1TVx76Ku19kDnn-hegS8mvMZdFtBv56mabDnZsJwus7wU_yB9AuRFF8IVE_zfQQ0VgbOwUwW_nN0XRF4ig2I4MIlh4Q8J7lJhPfzinQtjhZP1KlhFdrU/s400/Screenshot-3117.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">It wouldn’t have been so bad if I had something to go on. Some sense of knowing who he really was beyond Sanguinello Moro the cute boy who liked me. Something that I could hold on to and trust, and right now that something wasn’t Sanguinello. Physical contact between us was nonexistent; there were no holding hands, no goodnight kisses or cuddling on one of the couches in the basement like every other couple in school. If I sat down to close to him he would inch away while acting like nothing was wrong as he kept talking. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgijBQUNMyyLV-g3mo0OSQdguXguiMTwad-Pw_b3zF5NF301XzNhNl2MgqGCiLoB8dhRbMrGkZM304Kjv7F0b1-Ca-mK-e_Pv1NH_0aOSfQzNg78y7378I0mQLLnmIqWUsMYrX2UKd7NiQ/s1600/Screenshot-3131.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgijBQUNMyyLV-g3mo0OSQdguXguiMTwad-Pw_b3zF5NF301XzNhNl2MgqGCiLoB8dhRbMrGkZM304Kjv7F0b1-Ca-mK-e_Pv1NH_0aOSfQzNg78y7378I0mQLLnmIqWUsMYrX2UKd7NiQ/s400/Screenshot-3131.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">“You should just walk up to him one day and give him the biggest smooch in the whole world.” Was Can-Can’s advice while she wrote something down in her notebook. Lately these days she seemed wrapped up in her own world of writing letters and watching the mail for any that would come in return. When questioned if they were from someone special she would only answer with a blush “Oh I don’t know yet. It’s too early to tell and I really don’t want to jinx it or anything but I really, really, really hope so.” </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaP-eyf6aMfnMfAJYFJDFvD_6KqA3ppY1TZCZtPnj7iBbska6PQ9P7az2XmNPtdgm1p_1lFJnyszz7co9oj-iZhk158MutXjsstYiqkx8SCdGu_iDrjpufTiV1i634Lv0CRFmL8Mjzqqw/s1600/Screenshot-3134.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaP-eyf6aMfnMfAJYFJDFvD_6KqA3ppY1TZCZtPnj7iBbska6PQ9P7az2XmNPtdgm1p_1lFJnyszz7co9oj-iZhk158MutXjsstYiqkx8SCdGu_iDrjpufTiV1i634Lv0CRFmL8Mjzqqw/s400/Screenshot-3134.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">Just when I thought that Sanguinello and I were doomed to be friends and that I’d resign to being alone living a spinster’s life with a hundred cats since even Froot had moved on with Mai Tai, something rather unexpected happened. It was the day before Spring Break and classes were done, everyone was happily getting ready to go on vacation. I was hanging around wasting time with Sanguinello before I would take the train back home tomorrow. Can-Can had left earlier as soon as her classes were done to what I guessed was back home. I was getting fed up with everyone being so secretive these days. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEino0o6kZFdxkb0sKUbW2g8sQmt_Gf8EozmN8OVW5VcINudwo_8TuqXat2TNOooVc93X2F_jocCZs44SMavRFsb1jqH-wwmw1EIMue7NUhxOaC6FJNyia-SNQYEYC5y5OWf2AD2wI4YCSM/s1600/Screenshot-3135.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEino0o6kZFdxkb0sKUbW2g8sQmt_Gf8EozmN8OVW5VcINudwo_8TuqXat2TNOooVc93X2F_jocCZs44SMavRFsb1jqH-wwmw1EIMue7NUhxOaC6FJNyia-SNQYEYC5y5OWf2AD2wI4YCSM/s400/Screenshot-3135.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal"> <i> Maybe I should just take the late train tonight and have mom pick me up from the station.</i> I mused to myself feeling quite a bit irritated at everything that was or in my case wasn’t going on. “Yeah… So I’m going to call it an early night and jus-“I started to say before I found myself up against the wall with Sanguinello’s lips pressed against mine as he cupped my face in his hands. My heart immediately began to pound in my chest as they both began to move. One hand found its way up to the back of my head slipping in between the strands of hair while the other traced down my side before finding its destination as it moved across the small of my back before it settled on my hip.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJjtjABRbHkCpyxURD240mRx6pMOdkzC4f1J5L8vybpyL21LEwktg-n1NvEX2c8-pZS6ysBmNaQibCqbGIkV2DWt_Dal6auSbh4UAl4NA0JCoLGDczJ_OTtpEhBOFT9SlM3d1EhSowl7w/s1600/Screenshot-3138.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJjtjABRbHkCpyxURD240mRx6pMOdkzC4f1J5L8vybpyL21LEwktg-n1NvEX2c8-pZS6ysBmNaQibCqbGIkV2DWt_Dal6auSbh4UAl4NA0JCoLGDczJ_OTtpEhBOFT9SlM3d1EhSowl7w/s400/Screenshot-3138.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">There was nothing awkward about it and I had never felt anything like it before. What I had heard about first kisses from Wisteria gossiping to her friends or Indy telling me about hers, this was nothing like that one bit. There was no thinking just doing and I didn’t want this moment to stop, not right now. So I put my own hands on him trying to mimic his moves since I didn’t know exactly what I was doing. That only served to make him tighten his arms around me crushing me to him as his mouth moved from lips to my jawline feverishly kissing the whole way. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp58cOVLdFfoeQxiIxElYsUSSf9cGEJzRDHUjO0rSiNFT7IqTrECMAY05nKVxUcGO2U3Zp_wvB7WK2Od8sE-CIs9HuOoDJ81y6waLqSLNOp3NU03dtTBg2D0D1H3xfQWRgj2fRw4mJeBc/s1600/Screenshot-3139.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp58cOVLdFfoeQxiIxElYsUSSf9cGEJzRDHUjO0rSiNFT7IqTrECMAY05nKVxUcGO2U3Zp_wvB7WK2Od8sE-CIs9HuOoDJ81y6waLqSLNOp3NU03dtTBg2D0D1H3xfQWRgj2fRw4mJeBc/s400/Screenshot-3139.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">As he hit along my neck with warm lips that continued to travel down to my collarbone my hand involuntarily dug into his soft hair as I made pitiful sound that might have resembled a moan. The sound of a zipper loudly cut through the quiet room and as my hoodie loosened around me my mind clicked back to reality. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJggMgBYqiftIYmV561qutyhpNg-vz13PiZIWlPnb-TIEwLTm38BJxsSotkkVYVpIgHnv4RH9H4UVABOBx392S8HQqKEeyzYxn-1poj_01Hd97ME6DGOKIrHqA4adXhNbiUg8UCXjvjHY/s1600/Screenshot-3140.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJggMgBYqiftIYmV561qutyhpNg-vz13PiZIWlPnb-TIEwLTm38BJxsSotkkVYVpIgHnv4RH9H4UVABOBx392S8HQqKEeyzYxn-1poj_01Hd97ME6DGOKIrHqA4adXhNbiUg8UCXjvjHY/s400/Screenshot-3140.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">“What the fudge Sanguinello! You can’t just go and do that. You can’t just go this whole time without anything and then kiss me like that.” I gasped as I pushed him away feeling a muddled mess of emotions rush through me. I wanted to let him continue on more than anything and it was confusing. “Like what? This?” Sanguinello asked as he easily pulled me back to him as he kissed me again. But the spell had been broken and I just pushed him away again.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheXXain3ecmg0AmPdt3oMNPEeFtXwew85wVLD-oKecAGmNOovWXPBJijjm3vpESpsHJ6iHZKWvwihrOGU6Srv-YIEMbz7Ab9vojeUos8CK4Q0i84D7ZHioTxksjHXBFWhfntEHOy5ibXE/s1600/Screenshot-3142.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheXXain3ecmg0AmPdt3oMNPEeFtXwew85wVLD-oKecAGmNOovWXPBJijjm3vpESpsHJ6iHZKWvwihrOGU6Srv-YIEMbz7Ab9vojeUos8CK4Q0i84D7ZHioTxksjHXBFWhfntEHOy5ibXE/s400/Screenshot-3142.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"> “Seriously Sanguinello, what the fudge?” I asked, my first kiss and I was feeling angry, confused and somewhat hurt. “I’m sorry I’m a little impulsive sometimes.” He immediately apologized as he blushed while he tried to keep from smiling. “These past few weeks you haven’t even done anything to make me think that hey you really do like me, let alone hold my hand or something and now you just go and do this.” I said angrily as he quickly lost his smile and began to look worried. “I’m sorry. It’s hard to explain but even though I like you a lot I had to kind of… get used to you first. I know it doesn’t make any sense but that’s just how I am. Like the first time I saw you I spent the whole day smoking and I don't even smoke. I just saw them in the corner store earlier and bought them on a whim. Because I had to do it." </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFg6-QyLXCcKZ37qx5JlX7KTDXY87LuJYn4oDURefsM5TQHPxCAB3GtgscqESs2uNjiYyj1NEFGkQGnrSgt9ajfh49duUMJNbaevIpYrUy3SlUWPTUplq2LoFVXSGqcfOA91HXoTNGQAE/s1600/Screenshot-3143.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFg6-QyLXCcKZ37qx5JlX7KTDXY87LuJYn4oDURefsM5TQHPxCAB3GtgscqESs2uNjiYyj1NEFGkQGnrSgt9ajfh49duUMJNbaevIpYrUy3SlUWPTUplq2LoFVXSGqcfOA91HXoTNGQAE/s400/Screenshot-3143.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal">“Maybe it would make sense if I knew who you are. I feel like I don’t really know you. The only you I know is the you that’s here right now. I want to know how you became you. You have to give me something beyond when you were 15 you went to live with your aunt. What did you like to do as a kid? Where did you grow up before you came here? Do you even have any brothers or sisters?” I asked or rather demanded of him and as I continued I could see his demeanor change radically as he begun to pace but still I pressed on. “I mean since we’ve started talking and hanging out you’ve found out practically everything about me. You have to give me something to know about you when I’ve given you everything to know about me.” </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTxCPdr4rCijZQSb0wn7FtpQNUCnW72bB1uHt6I7n6wLdKis_finGL4OdXzcbZGZKLl0T4anNSyE2ZqdgPATi-ie0gM0ZDPPkjJKxGV-6Ub45djdVpSZYUxzjSejDu3xqC8JsozpzBuMc/s1600/Screenshot-3145.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTxCPdr4rCijZQSb0wn7FtpQNUCnW72bB1uHt6I7n6wLdKis_finGL4OdXzcbZGZKLl0T4anNSyE2ZqdgPATi-ie0gM0ZDPPkjJKxGV-6Ub45djdVpSZYUxzjSejDu3xqC8JsozpzBuMc/s400/Screenshot-3145.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">“What do you want to know? When I was younger I used to have a stuttering problem and you know what happens when a kid stutters? They get a nickname, in my case it was Stuttering San because the kids I went to school with were oh so clever. So that’s why no one is allowed to call me anything besides my full name. What else do you want to know? Huh? How about you try this one on for size, the last time I saw my father was the night I put him into the hospital because I was so tired of his mentality that he could make me be normal by physical means. You think my mother did anything to stick up for me? Huh?” He paused for a moment but not long enough for me to answer as he stood right in front of me, his eyes locked on to mine. “Nope… She wanted me gone. The only person in my family that was willing to be around me after that was my Aunt and that’s probably only because she felt sorry for me. So what else do you want to know or is that enough for now? Because I can tell you a lot more that would probably scare you away.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAqRi9BzKj_pQDOUg6TsvY8QoS7zQCun8LUU1p-3tZGozDbhFQyKz4x2sLuZ-RCM3mLzZVluLrrFaDNnn2cvljl38wVpa3j5fMQZJ19REcLoV0e8a3RHgBi59mikOGwfCqzg5mP4HTGRw/s1600/Screenshot-3146.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAqRi9BzKj_pQDOUg6TsvY8QoS7zQCun8LUU1p-3tZGozDbhFQyKz4x2sLuZ-RCM3mLzZVluLrrFaDNnn2cvljl38wVpa3j5fMQZJ19REcLoV0e8a3RHgBi59mikOGwfCqzg5mP4HTGRw/s400/Screenshot-3146.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">“No…No you can stop now if you want.” I said shakily before a moment of silence passed between us as I absorbed what he had told me. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to know more but I knew from his agitated state that he wanted to stop but I couldn’t help but ask “Will you ever tell me? On your own I mean?” </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKnyHeLdWJfz54di5yAniGd5MRb4sHwvTbOzbie4Sr_FmW1Gt6j2GrlrZgTzUbXX12vZ5we3IFBdWFg40CB0_rqvzc9WLGGxa6TIWXmvFc7YtMWaQ21InGxIhfeUDsmwrL7M3jc_y1Pos/s1600/Screenshot-3147.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKnyHeLdWJfz54di5yAniGd5MRb4sHwvTbOzbie4Sr_FmW1Gt6j2GrlrZgTzUbXX12vZ5we3IFBdWFg40CB0_rqvzc9WLGGxa6TIWXmvFc7YtMWaQ21InGxIhfeUDsmwrL7M3jc_y1Pos/s400/Screenshot-3147.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">“I guess one day when I feel comfortable enough to do so. My past and I is not easy subject for me… with you. For one thing it brings up to many memories and I don’t want those memories while I’m dealing with today. I don’t think that you would stick around that long if you really knew me.” Sanguinello said before turning his back on me and walked over to the window. I didn’t need to see his face to know how he was feeling his stance was enough to tell me. From the way he had his arms crossed tightly against his chest as if trying to comfort himself to his chin that laid tightly tucked into his collarbone. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiynvXP5mfLdNA8mRINrV1_GhyphenhyphenR5GUwCg5CTL6ZHWEby7F1E43vQ81arVGJ2xZPF1bs88ugMBKOJ33UobjMsb3ZdW8PMfuWA72Rvzwxt8GZgOFJ1pEgYHC1bBB8mDnb7e5NWy2OBv3ncUE/s1600/Screenshot-3148.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiynvXP5mfLdNA8mRINrV1_GhyphenhyphenR5GUwCg5CTL6ZHWEby7F1E43vQ81arVGJ2xZPF1bs88ugMBKOJ33UobjMsb3ZdW8PMfuWA72Rvzwxt8GZgOFJ1pEgYHC1bBB8mDnb7e5NWy2OBv3ncUE/s400/Screenshot-3148.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I wanted nothing more than to hold and comfort him when I realized that I could, that it would be alright if I did. Just as tentatively as the day he gave me the sketch I crossed the room taking one step after the other as my clunky boots made noise the whole way. I watched as his back stiffed and felt him slightly jump when I put my hand on that back before I wrapped my arms around him, holding him as tightly as I could. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRIt1YbqVRtDCCcsOGvK6sAZ5Es4S9rImF_DzMONd11n4h4WK10vRbypAfGJS8Q5lwrWBgUhjzBUm4vbS5gx2u-Acd31S96OhsntBnraL1uhNZmSaGZTTZYbp730dtlt8V2F8V2Rc4JHU/s1600/Screenshot-3150.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRIt1YbqVRtDCCcsOGvK6sAZ5Es4S9rImF_DzMONd11n4h4WK10vRbypAfGJS8Q5lwrWBgUhjzBUm4vbS5gx2u-Acd31S96OhsntBnraL1uhNZmSaGZTTZYbp730dtlt8V2F8V2Rc4JHU/s400/Screenshot-3150.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">His arms slightly unfolded so he could he could cross them back over my own but this time his hands were gripping onto his own arms but mine. I could feel each of his fingers through the fabric of my hoodie as they pressed down firmly for a while before Sanguinello sighed and both they and he began to relax. As he leaned against me I could smell the cherry fragrance from his shampoo and he asked “You’ll stay with me even when you find out?” </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQzucfciDAAuz58yAhykD9mhCzY_17qdfWP4ROYveoLKoHANUrqp8WsjxT3XWxwdQ9BRnNyGs6EuXU8nebxorJK9pUESel2fzVnJOS6PTV1_xCtUSAzuygIvElaWmHbKnc95z4pbBIGyM/s1600/Screenshot-3151.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQzucfciDAAuz58yAhykD9mhCzY_17qdfWP4ROYveoLKoHANUrqp8WsjxT3XWxwdQ9BRnNyGs6EuXU8nebxorJK9pUESel2fzVnJOS6PTV1_xCtUSAzuygIvElaWmHbKnc95z4pbBIGyM/s400/Screenshot-3151.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">“This may come as a surprised” I teased though I was serious, this complicated boy had captured my cynical heart. “But I really do like you and I’m not going anywhere unless you’re going too.” </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjn3NdoelJXw_c5YYvydQdhTFRGABcdO6sF2cVks4Q9AB8DoFFw_XcHxzagBs79bgRUPAobNtJ6r3liZGZSv02u1e3D_ayNs635C8qR3D4heLV97IQ8Z9ycks6LdUzaLPzRgrL_xCu5UAU/s1600/Screenshot-3153.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjn3NdoelJXw_c5YYvydQdhTFRGABcdO6sF2cVks4Q9AB8DoFFw_XcHxzagBs79bgRUPAobNtJ6r3liZGZSv02u1e3D_ayNs635C8qR3D4heLV97IQ8Z9ycks6LdUzaLPzRgrL_xCu5UAU/s400/Screenshot-3153.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div>cupcakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08521399676517388209noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5466120303155862835.post-89723622494389685912012-01-31T05:40:00.000-08:002012-01-31T05:40:31.661-08:00StarrySan spam of the magical sort<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div> Had some fun with the new magic set so here is a picture spam. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7OgmUFH8qGPcjtXBeW8AJM8Zo-7-_BeUddVYdUqIM3eIHlJcd7CQeL06v1x_OXi1WDjrzeU599UkqIsNihdBwXbAYJYKKvJ7wJ6NHu0XYJyRgWNzuc7Wbv9GnXPC9PWoccxBY_yLQwKA/s1600/Screenshot-3031.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7OgmUFH8qGPcjtXBeW8AJM8Zo-7-_BeUddVYdUqIM3eIHlJcd7CQeL06v1x_OXi1WDjrzeU599UkqIsNihdBwXbAYJYKKvJ7wJ6NHu0XYJyRgWNzuc7Wbv9GnXPC9PWoccxBY_yLQwKA/s400/Screenshot-3031.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqoujJheUmeADGSLQlt8MeWMbTqTXJ2KrkZ8LCU_myazWX-A7BaSfWlLTS7so5uHnN09pOqg4zE_ypv3hxP5iAOj0cQ9WHnu6yxO9K37vETcP-c2Lb5t08okW7S4OMKwg0vJ-HSxbkj90/s1600/Screenshot-3029.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqoujJheUmeADGSLQlt8MeWMbTqTXJ2KrkZ8LCU_myazWX-A7BaSfWlLTS7so5uHnN09pOqg4zE_ypv3hxP5iAOj0cQ9WHnu6yxO9K37vETcP-c2Lb5t08okW7S4OMKwg0vJ-HSxbkj90/s400/Screenshot-3029.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVkT3AtEuA9dIs_MIaHZ-WKxAdOpww88hWqSpvcmigmNLYOYWrmIY04l352pMIGxYTprveUWbPMHQdaU5Lt1E3_jNIMmfsNm1GVhIzLQnimKVTs5AVy58SdVgFL8IOo0bg2nGfDNHvmtc/s1600/Screenshot-3040.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVkT3AtEuA9dIs_MIaHZ-WKxAdOpww88hWqSpvcmigmNLYOYWrmIY04l352pMIGxYTprveUWbPMHQdaU5Lt1E3_jNIMmfsNm1GVhIzLQnimKVTs5AVy58SdVgFL8IOo0bg2nGfDNHvmtc/s400/Screenshot-3040.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-BrdOpRbvJIB5vDIcUf4j09NV6p1UCBqbtwjcAOEl4hovvEBoqfvEy9bxN_HY2WqzsRgBT99jT3GUY0jI2SRgNsL4gBaWtKnXkLW3CIHtcqk1sit3ZkS30dEQLVc7hPkdMxzgtKW8RJg/s1600/Screenshot-3034.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-BrdOpRbvJIB5vDIcUf4j09NV6p1UCBqbtwjcAOEl4hovvEBoqfvEy9bxN_HY2WqzsRgBT99jT3GUY0jI2SRgNsL4gBaWtKnXkLW3CIHtcqk1sit3ZkS30dEQLVc7hPkdMxzgtKW8RJg/s400/Screenshot-3034.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRtVljTInU_YxPzrEZ0R00yn_cw7HxEioL6ZNDA20G6oJo-3qn2feSGhKPxkBzVwmCEd4Vq8Ncx50B6eEGqi22sXdghhrvY4mUtHtLcC76Q-j13uJhinzRzbmDdiHKulZRoUTgXn-AO00/s1600/Screenshot-3035.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRtVljTInU_YxPzrEZ0R00yn_cw7HxEioL6ZNDA20G6oJo-3qn2feSGhKPxkBzVwmCEd4Vq8Ncx50B6eEGqi22sXdghhrvY4mUtHtLcC76Q-j13uJhinzRzbmDdiHKulZRoUTgXn-AO00/s400/Screenshot-3035.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjp3oN3Krhhmt3Zm08CultVT9sAva7rhfriRb_Sqqdo3z0V1Ru_BwSZsyTxXZ6ha3TOT_hi9Lf0WcVSZfivVjpdZxrs8PPFTT4Z3L3M601Fvk89QIbOGpAR3FIP5SKVw6DZox58aZKSubQ/s1600/Screenshot-3045.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjp3oN3Krhhmt3Zm08CultVT9sAva7rhfriRb_Sqqdo3z0V1Ru_BwSZsyTxXZ6ha3TOT_hi9Lf0WcVSZfivVjpdZxrs8PPFTT4Z3L3M601Fvk89QIbOGpAR3FIP5SKVw6DZox58aZKSubQ/s400/Screenshot-3045.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2W1dhPunnJOLtRgVjU9iymhk3EHqS1544L0sW1sN0Hp2L9S5_fUz3IR4WqheCHWlZL3HaXhzysdRUmpWMcB2H-SHJmkfm0g6gquImJoLwx5FHgRkANl-rhDxNrN2UtiXeyi0nnr6Vgoo/s1600/Screenshot-3081.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2W1dhPunnJOLtRgVjU9iymhk3EHqS1544L0sW1sN0Hp2L9S5_fUz3IR4WqheCHWlZL3HaXhzysdRUmpWMcB2H-SHJmkfm0g6gquImJoLwx5FHgRkANl-rhDxNrN2UtiXeyi0nnr6Vgoo/s400/Screenshot-3081.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUs51NsYnBtYVLmq4Iu8X8qeAf1jEjAgwNf0aElIKDbFa_k_gNsyI4PqGUsYl2djuhs50gnluKC9Oeoz0aaE_HP2prTmaZXXfyiebodmR6hNRnHbFqMBwnzLVgB-1_dcwi5PyUwmDR_YQ/s1600/Screenshot-3085.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUs51NsYnBtYVLmq4Iu8X8qeAf1jEjAgwNf0aElIKDbFa_k_gNsyI4PqGUsYl2djuhs50gnluKC9Oeoz0aaE_HP2prTmaZXXfyiebodmR6hNRnHbFqMBwnzLVgB-1_dcwi5PyUwmDR_YQ/s400/Screenshot-3085.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi10FjhuQP2HR56SVIUe3AGvszEyT9Gwkp09FpBYNt-MtoMdGiW9vWduvB3YDn9ycxr_MUzRFRI8Tz5umy8O0A8BUVv0_jvXdS85ICY9FZWglfnYciihGUSG3vL-kt2_w8OxTZlmAuSCl0/s1600/Screenshot-3084.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi10FjhuQP2HR56SVIUe3AGvszEyT9Gwkp09FpBYNt-MtoMdGiW9vWduvB3YDn9ycxr_MUzRFRI8Tz5umy8O0A8BUVv0_jvXdS85ICY9FZWglfnYciihGUSG3vL-kt2_w8OxTZlmAuSCl0/s400/Screenshot-3084.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv4PX1T_2ZgBTOv9kjbwCpo0YKxdI57e745nrUmmsYFcQi9guAuWjvGbn60KvjAap3SccEIZtTBm6FexRmGkYyUjcqFfSgkxaTwKWMOYatHrJ251XsY6NhPE719d_cnAM-S8WsvkuansE/s1600/Screenshot-3088.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv4PX1T_2ZgBTOv9kjbwCpo0YKxdI57e745nrUmmsYFcQi9guAuWjvGbn60KvjAap3SccEIZtTBm6FexRmGkYyUjcqFfSgkxaTwKWMOYatHrJ251XsY6NhPE719d_cnAM-S8WsvkuansE/s400/Screenshot-3088.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYx62QRgYQierizx1KkFL2EkNVdHzIt2-Fl6xHX1gpmHLwI8tAqJJfUuKnXl8n9FBdmBozGEbMKAJ91t9KroTTCnMi53tIrqitm3or74dC600u0m1ZzhyphenhyphenIzvXM5daN9VuzM-7gERbMh1c/s1600/Screenshot-3079.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYx62QRgYQierizx1KkFL2EkNVdHzIt2-Fl6xHX1gpmHLwI8tAqJJfUuKnXl8n9FBdmBozGEbMKAJ91t9KroTTCnMi53tIrqitm3or74dC600u0m1ZzhyphenhyphenIzvXM5daN9VuzM-7gERbMh1c/s400/Screenshot-3079.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkk5erasskM6PP6CJbLzPAyi801OXRjv2xzIwXOXHtjHP7dhYillaozfwa0QK_arujtcg1d6HCACj5rxqnaKwui2hG5J0UR6N6jSrBBRA2R31pYeT9tK8VWdv7bmMclRTTsgMQYEiQGPU/s1600/Screenshot-3083.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkk5erasskM6PP6CJbLzPAyi801OXRjv2xzIwXOXHtjHP7dhYillaozfwa0QK_arujtcg1d6HCACj5rxqnaKwui2hG5J0UR6N6jSrBBRA2R31pYeT9tK8VWdv7bmMclRTTsgMQYEiQGPU/s400/Screenshot-3083.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>cupcakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08521399676517388209noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5466120303155862835.post-71315625250627528512012-01-28T23:45:00.000-08:002012-01-28T23:45:33.179-08:00New blog of sorts announcementOk I am finally launching the other blog that I mentioned quite sometime ago... somewhere... That will be home to my other stories besides the legacy here. <br />
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I've moved over Marionette of Sorrows already to there and am in the process of copying a mini story that I've been writing on tumblr to there called Unhinged. That has been about a vampire and a marsh nymph. You'll <strike>probably</strike>... hopefully <span style="background-color: white;">recognize </span>her from the <a href="http://cupcakesbittersweettemptations.blogspot.com/2012/01/hazelwood.html">Hazelwood</a> post. The new blog will have some tasteful nudity here and there when the story calls for it, so you've been forewarned.<br />
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Here's the link ~ <a href="http://tatteredandruined.blogspot.com/">Tattered and Ruined</a>cupcakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08521399676517388209noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5466120303155862835.post-87499510315996306212012-01-25T23:50:00.000-08:002012-01-25T23:50:59.846-08:00StarrySan PicturesFor those that don't follow my simblr or the Meringue's tumblr account enjoy some StarrySan spam.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipk8WgHeZwUBrhBNy24euH-ZvlVs6GIJAtWjbIbQ4OVuSKI2O9jLnedhMmZZvqv7rDPSiO4So06U3hyphenhyphenUJuiuvxIJddA_NBmR3RR3Pzc9bbK7lI-6sjiB3RBYvlbp2_QknhLvmU-RcF8r4/s1600/Screenshot-2707.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipk8WgHeZwUBrhBNy24euH-ZvlVs6GIJAtWjbIbQ4OVuSKI2O9jLnedhMmZZvqv7rDPSiO4So06U3hyphenhyphenUJuiuvxIJddA_NBmR3RR3Pzc9bbK7lI-6sjiB3RBYvlbp2_QknhLvmU-RcF8r4/s400/Screenshot-2707.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
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</div>cupcakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08521399676517388209noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5466120303155862835.post-62489946209969879942012-01-19T04:58:00.000-08:002012-01-19T04:59:53.119-08:00The Meringue Rainbowcy-A Legacy Gone Technicolor Chapter 8 Generation Starry<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">Even before I opened my eyes to my roommate’s alarm clock I knew it was going to be a bad day. My own had not gone off and now I was late before even reaching waking a state. As quickly as I could I rushed through my usual morning routine. Scrubbing myself raw in the shower I tried rack my brain and clear away the clouds and cobwebs that still surrounded it from my sleep. <i>Wake up… Wakeupwakepwakeup. </i></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">My hair was still almost soaking wet as I dressed and prepared myself for the run to my classes. Quickly swallowing down a muffin that Can-Can had made in her quick breads class the day before and half a glass of juice I was soon out the door heading to my first class. My first class whizzed by and soon my second class started followed by my third and before I knew it, it was time for lunch. But that’s easier said than done and it didn’t go as smoothly as that. First class I forgot my paper right on my desk back in my dorm room. Second class it was my textbook, probably sitting next to my paper. Third class I had a fifteen minute break in between class so I decided to grab a cup of coffee from one of the vending machines in the mezzanine level lounge and went outside with it only to sufficiently spilled the hot liquid all over my hoodie. Great now I have to run back and change. I gritted to myself as the coffee seared through my clothes and burned my skin. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">Then I was late to my next class even though I ran the whole way to my dorm room and from it. By the end of the day I was a bit high strung and irritated. All I wanted to do I was hide under my blankets until tomorrow and not deal with anything else that could go wrong. But inside I found myself outside in the court yard waiting for Can-Can do get done with her classes so we could go to the cafeteria and grab some lunch when I spied Sanguinello hanging outside by himself. An almost rarity in sight him alone, as he was usually with his two friends Mr. Hat and Ms. Grey. Of course they probably had names and if I was a little more outgoing with other people maybe I would know them too. But for now they were just Mr. Hat and Ms. Grey and I was just fine with that.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">As Sanguinello walked towards me he grasped the frayed knitted shirt that he wore between his fingers as he probably subconsciously played with the unraveling yarn. “Why are you always so fudging nervous?” I snapped at him as he continued to fidget nervously with his clothing; the constant fiddling was beginning to grate on my nerves just a bit.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">“You’re just scary to talk to sometimes, even after you called me a pink elephant and drunkenly serenaded me your first night here. It made you more perfect to me than I’d thought you’d be before when I just saw you across our campus. So yes you are scary sometimes. There I said it! ” He said with a wave of his hands exasperatedly before walking away “Scary Starry”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDXQOtnMRqEEdwSFdRCp-w4a0ZbzTKah3ggdUbBT_99KejA0qqBlipRJyxGJ9CwDjtqW3mJVRGKASsDhH2c5dPpXSZCNHIlTWmaRxFYTUdv3xutGzqBKjEPoSZUY_cK5ROHaKbgT19_rg/s1600/Screenshot-2612.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDXQOtnMRqEEdwSFdRCp-w4a0ZbzTKah3ggdUbBT_99KejA0qqBlipRJyxGJ9CwDjtqW3mJVRGKASsDhH2c5dPpXSZCNHIlTWmaRxFYTUdv3xutGzqBKjEPoSZUY_cK5ROHaKbgT19_rg/s400/Screenshot-2612.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal"><i>Great, just great. There you go again Starry. And did we really meet my first night? Or better yet did I really serenade him with one of my favorite childhood songs?</i> I began to obsess embarrassedly in my mind in such a way that would put Shadow Sea to shame, but was interrupted by my cell phone. I don’t even know why I have one of these. It’s not like anyone besides family calls me on it anyway. "Hello?"</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUBgPLJkrZFpPY6Oxnko2EBFupFqip3CcOUYAyFuGT7ZJPy6JzXlENf2rSyjoaW7qjaGnCEDEcQSE64ErIDn8CRjG2hmq6rKgFF83o7Na8ccz44RvIz_dhFD1VXFv0LYFOgGmOqtSeylY/s1600/Screenshot-2613.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUBgPLJkrZFpPY6Oxnko2EBFupFqip3CcOUYAyFuGT7ZJPy6JzXlENf2rSyjoaW7qjaGnCEDEcQSE64ErIDn8CRjG2hmq6rKgFF83o7Na8ccz44RvIz_dhFD1VXFv0LYFOgGmOqtSeylY/s400/Screenshot-2613.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"> </div><div class="MsoNormal">“It’s me.” A muffled voice came through which thoroughly surprised me. I couldn’t remember the last time or even if there was a last time that my sister ever called me. I might as well have some fun.</div><div class="MsoNormal">“It’s me who?” I asked knowing fully well how much my sister had a short fuse when it came to berries playing dumb.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBhuuikQJzskbk8SNSgk__7DDgAyQHgO8iADPLpJ3WmKmg4SOXttg0A-IL69GA7xWf8KhJnB5j6r2HrlKZUHyg1cjgSgK_-lA3OginJFkusnZg9nOKnjH9dkc2Vx27tBE4KDakiA9_bws/s1600/Screenshot-2616.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBhuuikQJzskbk8SNSgk__7DDgAyQHgO8iADPLpJ3WmKmg4SOXttg0A-IL69GA7xWf8KhJnB5j6r2HrlKZUHyg1cjgSgK_-lA3OginJFkusnZg9nOKnjH9dkc2Vx27tBE4KDakiA9_bws/s400/Screenshot-2616.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">“For fudgesakes, Starry you should know your own sisters voice or look at the caller ID before picking up.” She snapped back at me immediately, her voice came loudly enough through the phone to make me hold it away from my ear.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcXGynpd67Aqylm81CL9SeEratzTBju8G2pP-hAmdreZNzpNCYN1Z3bVFvf3yfEAe0q4cAFXtwFAHOdCZo8jsNmUKsq6p3jgSl3qFuoB7y7vWZ6-0T-9TtgRwLIFlYq0DV2cLEOk-Dqao/s1600/Screenshot-2570.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcXGynpd67Aqylm81CL9SeEratzTBju8G2pP-hAmdreZNzpNCYN1Z3bVFvf3yfEAe0q4cAFXtwFAHOdCZo8jsNmUKsq6p3jgSl3qFuoB7y7vWZ6-0T-9TtgRwLIFlYq0DV2cLEOk-Dqao/s400/Screenshot-2570.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">“Oh it’s… you. What do you want?” I asked still keeping up the charade as I didn’t have to feign my displeasure in receiving a phone call from her. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPw5B3l-L7p-KJs16lxYCyAqZ0JGD98d_BbqiLhVIo23tcuYh3H5h1zrmMyjI2uk1SPpAXvcLO9NJQ7Keq0n5uoS67YsNypaEwxJ_pjZtxdeCFiNxQrbU6KbN5nY7oHOXSBNX_6JVR_bA/s1600/Screenshot-2621.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPw5B3l-L7p-KJs16lxYCyAqZ0JGD98d_BbqiLhVIo23tcuYh3H5h1zrmMyjI2uk1SPpAXvcLO9NJQ7Keq0n5uoS67YsNypaEwxJ_pjZtxdeCFiNxQrbU6KbN5nY7oHOXSBNX_6JVR_bA/s400/Screenshot-2621.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">“I umm need you to come home. Please you’re seriously the last person I would call but mom’s not here and I can’t get a hold of Indigo. Grandma is in the hospital and I really need you home right now. Please Starry.” I heard her plead with me first going with being her last option and then finally admitting that she needed me. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglIQtVMNMY1E0OPWNaySH-riv1YKQpi9B6sRNzgJhXCnborRRRhpeG9k-RuIJsiMXWRxx8UuCpPuHV___4JJNw1Q9q5GbNMvumiQT5TqaROoZRYXepvEhzIN3BIahaKPtFWfehyw45zWA/s1600/Screenshot-2573.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglIQtVMNMY1E0OPWNaySH-riv1YKQpi9B6sRNzgJhXCnborRRRhpeG9k-RuIJsiMXWRxx8UuCpPuHV___4JJNw1Q9q5GbNMvumiQT5TqaROoZRYXepvEhzIN3BIahaKPtFWfehyw45zWA/s400/Screenshot-2573.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">There was something in her voice that made me promise that I would be on my way before hanging up and immediately take the next train back home. Something was wrong and for the first time my sister was reaching out to me. Grant it I was her last choice, but still somewhere in the back of my mind in the dark recesses echoed my mother’s words about family and sticking together that she would often say whenever Wisteria and I got into one of our fights. It was about an hour later when I finally arrived on my doorstep. For the first time I was unsure if I should knock or if I should just open the door and stroll in. I hadn't lived here since before school started though my room still remained the same. But Wisteria made that decision for me when she quickly opened the door and grabbed me pulling me in. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqatrbjx9KQ0hdfSLJDo63VF1X7L67cSnzBv-qtNGNlPF87L4GHS38nacmzOJaF777pr88EuW-1ogO8A7Bryb-iRpHzoWph4D5D4CZj0bi9cD4pwcGa4eLODe6NUrdpaKHO2JXjpiekgk/s1600/Screenshot-2578.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqatrbjx9KQ0hdfSLJDo63VF1X7L67cSnzBv-qtNGNlPF87L4GHS38nacmzOJaF777pr88EuW-1ogO8A7Bryb-iRpHzoWph4D5D4CZj0bi9cD4pwcGa4eLODe6NUrdpaKHO2JXjpiekgk/s400/Screenshot-2578.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">“I don’t care Fade! She can die alone for that matter. Besides she has Ashen there.” I heard my father practically yelling in his office while on speaker phone with my grandfather Fade. “Do you see why I called you home?” my sister Wisteria said quietly “I’ve been trying to get everyone to speak to our father since he refuses to go see our grandmother.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVF26oQG_tQhKuXiWxYOAmeMJM6QEar0KsbdmyK1wI2WlDdZArEXT0YtG6KHXDXFaZWtvrtEEQvncq-d1yl8mWaymd_7Q4yU_6sQyqkCjh7_tepIvo1G0pV0VWencyHcjbCjnH9Bg5zqA/s1600/Screenshot-2579.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVF26oQG_tQhKuXiWxYOAmeMJM6QEar0KsbdmyK1wI2WlDdZArEXT0YtG6KHXDXFaZWtvrtEEQvncq-d1yl8mWaymd_7Q4yU_6sQyqkCjh7_tepIvo1G0pV0VWencyHcjbCjnH9Bg5zqA/s400/Screenshot-2579.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">“Where is mom?” I asked her surprised that my sister had called me of all people home. “She’s on her way back from the farm and won’t be back for at least another hour. They don’t know if Grandma is going to make it through the night and all she has been asking for is dad. Mom says that ever since his grandmother came back into his life before she passed away he hasn’t had the greatest relationship with grandma. Apparently dad’s real dad’s lawyer finally broke his confidentiality agreement and told him a few things about him a few years ago after he retired. ” She explained quietly as we walked through the living room to the kitchen, all the few feet there we could still hear our father arguing with our Grandpa Fade. “Mom told you all of this?” I asked in surprise as our mother was usually one to keep things in control and under wrap. “No, I overheard her talking to our other Grandma one day when I was home sick while you and everyone else were at school.” My sister answered honestly as I wondered what other things she might know.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdLU7NKtC2vqANwm_M6e_wuisDJCjeSEiw4tPp85YEHhNNJVo-TCeQxZuS6OqGbBMksehjcYCpi_UdZRsI8uJxjPPU8OxtW0hbqpgvvuBraT0jxGpebVpbH7OMPjgOA2sYSTum4pJZls0/s1600/Screenshot-2582.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdLU7NKtC2vqANwm_M6e_wuisDJCjeSEiw4tPp85YEHhNNJVo-TCeQxZuS6OqGbBMksehjcYCpi_UdZRsI8uJxjPPU8OxtW0hbqpgvvuBraT0jxGpebVpbH7OMPjgOA2sYSTum4pJZls0/s400/Screenshot-2582.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">“Who was by my father’s beside Fade? Who? Did you know that he asked for me several times to her? And she refused him. Did you know that Fade?” Our dad implored loudly as he paced back and forth loudly in his office. “No, I did not. But I am sure that your mother only did so to protect you.” Grandpa Fade answered tiredly; his voice had taken on an irritated tone as my father briskly shut his office door. But it did nothing to diffuse the sound of his voice as it penetrated through the walls reaching us in the kitchen</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvihuN4pYduiQNS2RMHnOaTi8KPP12tPEDJ3VkTR1loQ0dQod-xXodJ6cjErQmoQkJ52bpYI0mZI9Ab2C1XKdq7bvJAD3xEAqHNIw0NvLNkF_VxaoMRtXTdhacuMUym_05vaJTaix28r0/s1600/Screenshot-1736.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvihuN4pYduiQNS2RMHnOaTi8KPP12tPEDJ3VkTR1loQ0dQod-xXodJ6cjErQmoQkJ52bpYI0mZI9Ab2C1XKdq7bvJAD3xEAqHNIw0NvLNkF_VxaoMRtXTdhacuMUym_05vaJTaix28r0/s400/Screenshot-1736.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"> </div><div class="MsoNormal">“Protect me? I was a fudging adult when that happened and capable of making my own decisions. I was twenty years old when he died and living on my own. Protect me? No, it wasn’t ever to protect me. More like protecting herself since she had just as much to lose as he did if anyone found out. He begged her and told her to name any price. Admitting that I was his son? Fine, he was in the process of having the papers drawn up in his will that would have named me as his son. But she still said no and now she wants me to come to her. I don’t know what’s more messed up, that or the fact that on his death bed he still loved her enough to respect her wishes no matter how much they hurt him or me.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4VbRk6-aejVwrBHPlhqBFoKGvF8pbVw02tW_ojr1UM3psL7NdKJjXVUm1YRMkiWlvP0s9M_HOtHMN8pBiKtLBBzvm2zrYdSaLHlbghKVJjHelxmTyJD7k4UFtEljSPqwSsPTV6q_bBkI/s1600/Screenshot-2565.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4VbRk6-aejVwrBHPlhqBFoKGvF8pbVw02tW_ojr1UM3psL7NdKJjXVUm1YRMkiWlvP0s9M_HOtHMN8pBiKtLBBzvm2zrYdSaLHlbghKVJjHelxmTyJD7k4UFtEljSPqwSsPTV6q_bBkI/s400/Screenshot-2565.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">I’ll never know what she said to him but as soon as my mother came home she glided past us in the living room straight towards our father with little acknowledgement as she nodded to the two of us. Dad was leaning on the counter looking out the window to the backyard but from our view in the kitchen it didn’t seem like he saw a thing outside the window from his trapped thoughts. Her footsteps barely made a sound before she reached him. Quietly she spoke to him words that we could not hear as we watched his shoulders sink down in defeat and it soon felt as if our watching was intrusive on a private moment in which our father who seemed so strong to us growing up now seemed like that image was about to break. In a shaky and unsure voice I asked “Hey Wisteria how about we go grab some takeout from that place in town that opened up last summer?” </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjutUxMz0j4u1xk6o0lXI47Yux0MTQcxkIhLraFRMwxvpAAdEeD70XDxd6ayHYNxhQqbZzUmpYrHFaW-S9QgW6hgCzcCdmKzf5aOqXrkjDvPmU8VM44y6byZcV80m0MLm5Pj9sAgIgufNM/s1600/Screenshot-2595.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjutUxMz0j4u1xk6o0lXI47Yux0MTQcxkIhLraFRMwxvpAAdEeD70XDxd6ayHYNxhQqbZzUmpYrHFaW-S9QgW6hgCzcCdmKzf5aOqXrkjDvPmU8VM44y6byZcV80m0MLm5Pj9sAgIgufNM/s400/Screenshot-2595.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">In the end there was no yelling, no theatrics or anything that might have suggested that my grandmother made decisions that affected my father’s whole life. While we sat outside her room as he said his goodbyes to her barely a word could be heard from their conversation. Our grandfather Fade distanced himself from the rest of the family while Uncle Ashen looked distraught as our Aunt kept her arm around him while trying to hold on to their infant Juniper Dust. It was only an hour after my father emerged from the hospital room that my grandmother passed away. The life of one of the most infamous Berrywood Scarlet’s had come to an end. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNgIFFHItkA8kcJO5u_JQ9_Izr1YvSvtFF8tBUXGP9Y9-Kl4PsPmU2o65nD-Tuq4lxu9dzDq9Ta8zdgNmFvjSU7hJG58orq_2-xdiFIPEr3GquQnydLKEI6OSWWNhMbYbL6x0dzfxJkf0/s1600/Screenshot-2550.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNgIFFHItkA8kcJO5u_JQ9_Izr1YvSvtFF8tBUXGP9Y9-Kl4PsPmU2o65nD-Tuq4lxu9dzDq9Ta8zdgNmFvjSU7hJG58orq_2-xdiFIPEr3GquQnydLKEI6OSWWNhMbYbL6x0dzfxJkf0/s400/Screenshot-2550.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">The funeral was rampant with berries attending, fans watching alongside of the paparazzi trying to take their photos from behind the wrought iron fence hoping to get one last glimpse of a woman that helped mark an era in Berrywood film history. It was oddly a sunny day, a break in the usual overcast skies. The sound of camera flashes could be heard almost echoing throughout the quiet graveyard as we said our final goodbyes. I never experienced anything like it, having my picture taken by a bunch of strangers that tried to get my father’s attention by calling his name and asking him questions as we tried to leave. “Parasites” He grumbled under his breath while the limo crept slowly towards the sprawling city away from the graveyard.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhx0UNRlelv5-ER53HeUoIqByfT8cmvs91Qn3LyfEFvJq7wj07-GRZNm8dh8lttEd4jaV1YlRc4XF-uFj3sliWVliYT80Sdn5KmxdYXj2OCkdiAUc9avWMpoes9rhw8pqLXaKTMUCZgueE/s1600/Screenshot-2559.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhx0UNRlelv5-ER53HeUoIqByfT8cmvs91Qn3LyfEFvJq7wj07-GRZNm8dh8lttEd4jaV1YlRc4XF-uFj3sliWVliYT80Sdn5KmxdYXj2OCkdiAUc9avWMpoes9rhw8pqLXaKTMUCZgueE/s400/Screenshot-2559.png" width="400" /></a></div><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">After the wake it was revealed that my grandmother had left me an apartment that she had ever since she had come to the city since I was the only one to show an interest in her beloved city and had needed to be in it as much as she had so many years ago. Which shocked Fade most of all since it was something that she was supposed to have sold years ago when my father was a toddler and they moved into my father’s childhood home together. “I don’t get it why did she keep it after all these years?”My grandfather questioned after her will had been read. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">My father wanted nothing to do with it when I asked him after we got back to our house what I should do with it. You’d think me being 18 years old with a two floor apartment with a beautiful view of the city would have thrilling, but instead it made me nervous. I didn’t have a job yet I was still in school how would I even pay the bills on the thing? “I’ll take care of everything kiddo, until you are done with school.” My father assured me with a distant look in his eyes as my mother shook her head to let me know not to press him about it anymore. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiebOaOQZlPtn7QPDkar9g1oD5wa_6qMkH7AW_4rXQOxKEdFUUPkNaAbEpqf-IQ6YVxlq6J3DdlLK5tfmE1NWFS913_czlA_BvynKmQnAeYT0xXVyC-0LHncLqjg8XPf0Wj2sxV9mn1p3s/s1600/Screenshot-2583.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiebOaOQZlPtn7QPDkar9g1oD5wa_6qMkH7AW_4rXQOxKEdFUUPkNaAbEpqf-IQ6YVxlq6J3DdlLK5tfmE1NWFS913_czlA_BvynKmQnAeYT0xXVyC-0LHncLqjg8XPf0Wj2sxV9mn1p3s/s400/Screenshot-2583.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"> When I returned to school a few days later I dragged Can-Can, who in turn dragged Melon, who also brought along some girl named Mai Tai with Froot trailing along to the Butterfly Espade on the north side of town. It was one of my grandmother’s favorite places before she got famous and on the rarity that we got to visit our grandparents she would take us there. I was well through my first year at school now though I had yet to come here even once. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPQw0qF5tZzOyKUbjj3bYcCxcpj23TXFVkjKbDp7pH-KDXrLjhyphenhyphendztw0C0-9sDc5neEnUj2F-f7Nd5_UbihsH5CFEwJWbhAiMMk11xqfF1zMX8wFKumpp7XlPAs0FpOIecOfP7yn8C05Q/s1600/Screenshot-2636.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPQw0qF5tZzOyKUbjj3bYcCxcpj23TXFVkjKbDp7pH-KDXrLjhyphenhyphendztw0C0-9sDc5neEnUj2F-f7Nd5_UbihsH5CFEwJWbhAiMMk11xqfF1zMX8wFKumpp7XlPAs0FpOIecOfP7yn8C05Q/s400/Screenshot-2636.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"> </div><div class="MsoNormal">But there were also other things besides my grandmother’s death that were on my mind. The fact that San had called me Scary Starry was sticking out like a sore thumb in my mind. “If you had to describe me with one word what would be the first one that pops in your head?” I asked curiously though I wasn’t exactly sure that I wanted to hear the answer. Melon was the first to speak up after a moment of silence “Abrasive.” Froot then chimed in with “Cranky” While Mai Tai said “Quiet.” And Can-Can answered with an apology “Jaded. Sorry Starry you did ask.” </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt8fl7K2zBcVKcNmc_5OJvMAv592SKyszmpJ5bxXmM3rNBx_FrzDZTXBi78ZC3OeJE0_tDuAH_cOrskkYt23fBqRhJvL1pEQmaXFlzeOqHrQqZFGU6-zbnzSPwyVxxHEVpA-Nh2quXVTE/s1600/Screenshot-2638.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt8fl7K2zBcVKcNmc_5OJvMAv592SKyszmpJ5bxXmM3rNBx_FrzDZTXBi78ZC3OeJE0_tDuAH_cOrskkYt23fBqRhJvL1pEQmaXFlzeOqHrQqZFGU6-zbnzSPwyVxxHEVpA-Nh2quXVTE/s400/Screenshot-2638.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><i>Fudge, well that settles that.</i> I thought to myself as Can-Can thankfully changed the conversation after giving me a look that said we’d be talking later about it. One of the perks or rather cons of having Can-Can as a roommate was that she was highly into my life. Sometimes it helped when she teaching me how to cook but in turn there was the usual girly things that I had liked to avoid. In the beginning of the year Can-Can and her overzealous hormones seemed to have her crushing on a different guy a day, but lately it seemed like that was the further thing on her mind. I guess people could change. I could change or at least that’s something that I’ve been trying to do this whole year though rather unsuccessfully. Maybe I could be a little nicer to others? </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgumhJYIPlkudunIQ1gP_UUvJ3RtY5UXdM-BFCjM1sQjwWrLsfZQhxaih3bL4rCERtI7ZCbzhP9PdzkY-SzvFU8R3euKwOm_iL26EuDEdgniI0aphKIirxgoqRARn1zvuu9tPa1G4Gaz8Y/s1600/Screenshot-2641.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgumhJYIPlkudunIQ1gP_UUvJ3RtY5UXdM-BFCjM1sQjwWrLsfZQhxaih3bL4rCERtI7ZCbzhP9PdzkY-SzvFU8R3euKwOm_iL26EuDEdgniI0aphKIirxgoqRARn1zvuu9tPa1G4Gaz8Y/s400/Screenshot-2641.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"> </div><div class="MsoNormal">A few weeks later right before spring break I was out in the court yard again trying to work on still life project. As I sketched a few pictures of the bowl of fake fruit in front of me from the corner of my eye I could see him with his friends. <i>I could talk to him.</i> I tried to reason with myself but only failed. <i>Or I could stay here trying to look I don't need anybody</i>.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizaCc2wsLXXulvGn-x0YcLmMp1cENGg6x41z_9cwHWb4BG3UJvs5qXzDxtGIatf6oDWum40lgPKlQ4S1-P43gOFdiCvJi5igJ1MLksLae6GJtZEbmwe17mgOF-zIOPnZrKNYKQkTusOSI/s1600/Screenshot-2622.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizaCc2wsLXXulvGn-x0YcLmMp1cENGg6x41z_9cwHWb4BG3UJvs5qXzDxtGIatf6oDWum40lgPKlQ4S1-P43gOFdiCvJi5igJ1MLksLae6GJtZEbmwe17mgOF-zIOPnZrKNYKQkTusOSI/s400/Screenshot-2622.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">The guy that always wore the top hat was writing something on his hand while his girlfriend Ms. Grey laughed. For the past few weeks we had gone back to the same song and dance of randomly catching glances from each other. Only to turn away from the other with burning cheeks and a yearning like I never felt before. A few times I almost went up to him but just as I was about his words echoed in my head and I knew that I would just end up putting my foot in my mouth again. So I just did as I always did, continuing to watch from the sidelines as the world past me by. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixzocQCrHMOq5YZDu9kOvFUxjjadre26b7HuEvEcl1WGIC3ZVyBijCioqoQdxISJaNloJjZlIp3s1iMnsosPzp4xGqRCVIEuRR-c_zM2ULcipdzJn7ACMuHOvKHj6XQhrOb0xkpZQgzQg/s1600/Screenshot-2623.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixzocQCrHMOq5YZDu9kOvFUxjjadre26b7HuEvEcl1WGIC3ZVyBijCioqoQdxISJaNloJjZlIp3s1iMnsosPzp4xGqRCVIEuRR-c_zM2ULcipdzJn7ACMuHOvKHj6XQhrOb0xkpZQgzQg/s400/Screenshot-2623.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">So I went back to writing in my sketchbook for a moment brushing it off before Sanguinello came over to me. “Umm… Hello!” he said really loudly almost yelling which startled me and once again I looked up into his blood orange tinted eyes. “Uhh hi…” I replied to him once I composed myself again as he looked down at his hand as he began to talk. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCnkwB0pGEbO36Va3xVmRMZkAE0nABi1_qgZxpJmG-vpMf-BsmO7jFjae2DH8NObRFqlvgIiD2gNRUQufd4cS3O2_ltvqlJrzItfSSCzvlm35jLIo89bSNfOALRMMcv_H6lURRm4juZls/s1600/Screenshot-2628.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCnkwB0pGEbO36Va3xVmRMZkAE0nABi1_qgZxpJmG-vpMf-BsmO7jFjae2DH8NObRFqlvgIiD2gNRUQufd4cS3O2_ltvqlJrzItfSSCzvlm35jLIo89bSNfOALRMMcv_H6lURRm4juZls/s400/Screenshot-2628.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">“Ok let me try this again. My name… is Sanguinello Moro. I… really like you and… made you… this picture. Hand over the picture…Oh… I mean here I made this for you.” Sanguinello said before thrusting a piece of folded up paper at me. As I unfolded it a little bit impatiently at first I began to finish unfolding it a little more carefully when I saw that it was a drawing. It was a hand sketched drawing of me only it wasn’t me, but a really pretty version of me though it was a fantasy wavy haired pirate one. “Thanks but that’s not really me.” I said to him after I looked it over for a moment, the girl in the sketch's face captured my own eyes. “It is thought. Or well it’s at least how I see you. I mean not really as a pirate or whatever. I got a little distracted when I was drawing it.” Sanguinello said quietly as his face turned from its normal shade of pink to red as a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he looked at the ground.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMh8VTfXN0CqdZIKlDW1fbGtyoDKmx_SN9NzHJTwzopT9Eid9wPVCY6QX94dxQLyW1phn5sen4JJ0Q3hyphenhyphenN2Qraj2yL2RlAFb_iiVrozZsMEd2ec87yD2iZa0sSvcedOPP9rN97vRd1xc0/s1600/Screenshot-2635.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="336" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMh8VTfXN0CqdZIKlDW1fbGtyoDKmx_SN9NzHJTwzopT9Eid9wPVCY6QX94dxQLyW1phn5sen4JJ0Q3hyphenhyphenN2Qraj2yL2RlAFb_iiVrozZsMEd2ec87yD2iZa0sSvcedOPP9rN97vRd1xc0/s400/Screenshot-2635.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">“What was so different about the night I first met you besides me being sober?” I asked curiously as I adverted my eyes feeling my own face turn as red as his, while Sanguinello stood tentatively in front on me. “I don’t know you just talked to me, gave me the time of day. You treated me like I was norm… Never mind you probably had a ton of friends back home didn’t you?” He asked almost bitterly while he looked at the building behind me. The water sparkled down in the late afternoon’s light.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWWILeLfj27ROMplKlyEOeiO8uVSh5TFNvZD6LZkzs6jhY84BXjHP2NeM49UpKqodIbJuWpCLgRcGi17x6NQJ4UZ2Ui5r5z6VaBtEi1hDF0rK8g8a0FxXFha1xcDJ3E4quVCpWMwhByz8/s1600/Screenshot-2630.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWWILeLfj27ROMplKlyEOeiO8uVSh5TFNvZD6LZkzs6jhY84BXjHP2NeM49UpKqodIbJuWpCLgRcGi17x6NQJ4UZ2Ui5r5z6VaBtEi1hDF0rK8g8a0FxXFha1xcDJ3E4quVCpWMwhByz8/s400/Screenshot-2630.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal"> “Actually no I didn’t. I didn’t have any at all.” I answered quietly as he looked at me in surprise before I changed the subject at hand. I didn’t want to talk with him about my lack of a social life back him, it embarrassed me and I didn’t want him to think that I was some loser. “So what made you decided to give me a sketch?” I asked as I looked over it again memorized by the details he put into it. It was far more impressive than anything I had ever drawn and all it consisted of was mere loose leaf paper and pencil markings.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqnffJC0UkIyWWLORGrZRe124TnAvsyGUlrY7H-7_i0MR7wEFEDgYFd_QxEBTXDegvHDA3isIfpFBzseZlKtp7dAP60sGHnqmO-xBcy67G5HeSVEHU65mNTZpgBNKU5etUJXQXekRmKXw/s1600/Screenshot-2631.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqnffJC0UkIyWWLORGrZRe124TnAvsyGUlrY7H-7_i0MR7wEFEDgYFd_QxEBTXDegvHDA3isIfpFBzseZlKtp7dAP60sGHnqmO-xBcy67G5HeSVEHU65mNTZpgBNKU5etUJXQXekRmKXw/s400/Screenshot-2631.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">“I debated over giving you flowers instead but then I thought who in their right mind would want to receive something that’s dead? And that it would be really morbid of me to start off our relationship by giving you dead things.” He replied the most unusually answer that even I couldn’t keep from smiling at as he sat down next to me. “So you assume that we would have a relationship?” I teased even though my face began to redden involuntarily as I tried not to stumble over my words or put my foot in my mouth. <i>Be witty and cool I thought to myself in my head. Don’t mess this up.</i> As he answered “Not assumed, but hoped because I kind of really like you... a lot” </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div>cupcakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08521399676517388209noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5466120303155862835.post-13491495224816384442012-01-09T09:56:00.000-08:002012-01-09T09:56:08.389-08:00The Meringue Rainbowcy~A Legacy Gone Technicolor Chapter 7 Generation Starry<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFDJamXIhCMNoA849SgTQSwSB_yD43pawbcNtN2LlTRm_k55Asl9MWCt6b8pG2RNz124TBsggKwEDgzjLmoEyn3UOWai1ju-x06TsKiATbN1P47hcl6p6SM3bkkAPetqvdcJIu4vYpLgs/s1600/Siggy6.0.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="90" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFDJamXIhCMNoA849SgTQSwSB_yD43pawbcNtN2LlTRm_k55Asl9MWCt6b8pG2RNz124TBsggKwEDgzjLmoEyn3UOWai1ju-x06TsKiATbN1P47hcl6p6SM3bkkAPetqvdcJIu4vYpLgs/s400/Siggy6.0.png" width="400" /></a></div><a name='more'></a><br />
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">After that first night I never really drank like that again, I made sure. Sure I might have had a drink or two when Can-Can would drag me down to another one of those parties in the basement but never like I did that. “So you never told me what your major is?” I asked Can-Can two days after the party, the night before we were due to start classes. The first weekend without parents was now finally over as we hung out in our dorm room. “Oh I’m taking the culinary program that’s here for a degree in Culinary Arts. I come from a long line of cooks but I’m hoping to be the first chef among them.” Can-Can answered as she sat on the floor far as she could from the window which exposed the true height our dorm room was at. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLJGvjknGV3ESuny5YORlEQJdBW8ZAv4cH1Uwy5Ud-FUrlm7TTOeOSUruemRTDrRH4Vdgg6Bt4m_25aB5rpM2wDNVZ0-xtJUPsrSIvhWUY8BlSA0V0A_s9HNqencJH9WM6-7yEEOkH9Kg/s1600/Screenshot-2246.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLJGvjknGV3ESuny5YORlEQJdBW8ZAv4cH1Uwy5Ud-FUrlm7TTOeOSUruemRTDrRH4Vdgg6Bt4m_25aB5rpM2wDNVZ0-xtJUPsrSIvhWUY8BlSA0V0A_s9HNqencJH9WM6-7yEEOkH9Kg/s400/Screenshot-2246.png" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Really? That’s so neat, I burn water. I would love to be able to cook. My brother always writes about how he enjoys our mom sending him home cooked goodies, I wish I could send him something too.” I said enviously of my roommate’s ability. Throughout my whole life I had never made anything that wasn’t burnt or microwaved or well microwaved and burnt. My home ec classes I had failed miserably as I made a lot of inedible things that shouldn’t dared to be called food. “If you want I can send him some stuff while teaching you a thing or two about cooking?” Can-Can offered before asking with a leering grin as she wiggled her eyebrows suggestively “Do you have a photo of said brother?” <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0DJ9Ba4fWt0o4ITWTzH_D2ncTcviH3HVttZXHZnD2hl4A7YHZzmbt7DE7dFobea2ITNWqrCwiLmPtchoz2c6xKHpddokLYFA0quLvH30XEooUprKXqnsq5YsevYMrHCDCHu6CkwWY47E/s1600/Screenshot-2248.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0DJ9Ba4fWt0o4ITWTzH_D2ncTcviH3HVttZXHZnD2hl4A7YHZzmbt7DE7dFobea2ITNWqrCwiLmPtchoz2c6xKHpddokLYFA0quLvH30XEooUprKXqnsq5YsevYMrHCDCHu6CkwWY47E/s400/Screenshot-2248.png" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Weeks passed by as I started to notice the pink guy from my first day here when he fell off the concrete divider. Trying my best I would observe him in my peripheral view believing that like every other guy that I found attractive, I could never have a chance with him. But that didn’t stop me from wanting that chance and every day that I saw him I wanted it even more and more. I’d daydream in class or when supposed to be working on a project about the first time we would even talk, the witty banter we would have between each other that instant connection with another that I craved so much and then.... “Starry is everything alright?” Froot asked as he snapped me out of a day dream. <em>Fudge my life.<o:p></o:p></em></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNNoVzTbigrxJjNwbWizpeG_KSxP48NfP40TUnQPIPOt-tWgwzddD0sYmlndn7nCTY5uZhI2-kvXZAEEeoXH_weMBmnlau8zX7mDJO93riK9S1g6Moc1KrXMyZP1Z7amaHAJGTW0pzKVU/s1600/Screenshot-2302.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNNoVzTbigrxJjNwbWizpeG_KSxP48NfP40TUnQPIPOt-tWgwzddD0sYmlndn7nCTY5uZhI2-kvXZAEEeoXH_weMBmnlau8zX7mDJO93riK9S1g6Moc1KrXMyZP1Z7amaHAJGTW0pzKVU/s400/Screenshot-2302.png" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Yeah sure everything is fine. Why are we down here together and why are we talking? We never talk you usually just talk around me to Can-Can or you just piss off Melon.” I asked making sure that he understood why I didn’t understand his presence. “Piss off Melon? Starry you’ve got to work on your burns.” Froot said as he ignored my question as he continually sat next to me. I really didn’t know that much about him so his sitting next to me randomly talking to me as he basically ignored me since the beginning of school was starting to perturb me. “Oh nothing just had a free class since my teacher went home for the day.” He finally answered a few minutes later after talking about his twin brother who was traveling instead of going to school. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxWpgDCThbznHHlSuQthLhep5PYY1ChnhhZK5vJ_hS8B6nBo1Nj4x11cn3TIXrQE9V0fDCplnDxcvZUMWyjs1Y8wIp72JplV7kW6hqGIGhxbZSQ1G7XvMnGIOpGsbZnpU0DWZXu4l_I6Q/s1600/Screenshot-2251.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxWpgDCThbznHHlSuQthLhep5PYY1ChnhhZK5vJ_hS8B6nBo1Nj4x11cn3TIXrQE9V0fDCplnDxcvZUMWyjs1Y8wIp72JplV7kW6hqGIGhxbZSQ1G7XvMnGIOpGsbZnpU0DWZXu4l_I6Q/s400/Screenshot-2251.png" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">A few times I tried to psyche myself up to talk to him. I didn’t even mention him at all to Can-Can, who was trying her hardest to hook me up with Froot for some reason. It was almost her mission to find me my first boyfriend and she probably would have marched me right up to Mr. Pink one day forcing me to talk to him. As much as I hated it this cynical girl was entirely smitten with a guy that probably forgot about her the same day he saw her. And so I decided to wait until that magical day when he would talk me instead of putting myself out there taking a chance. So instead I listened to Can-Can try to sell me on Froot who I don’t even think he really liked me in the first place as we waited for our laundry to get done in the basement. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2X6UVjrPBeu_PZ3b7Jy330pDPQq_F25XEHN5ztCGkhj8wATny5GRztTbnGkX_vpDYxeDwdv4EblREmRZ0qhOB4DT0rjeKoaERO1KG8uBjqvw-JnY9D5filfbKzRif5zym-NntSMoyzpE/s1600/Screenshot-2250.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2X6UVjrPBeu_PZ3b7Jy330pDPQq_F25XEHN5ztCGkhj8wATny5GRztTbnGkX_vpDYxeDwdv4EblREmRZ0qhOB4DT0rjeKoaERO1KG8uBjqvw-JnY9D5filfbKzRif5zym-NntSMoyzpE/s400/Screenshot-2250.png" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Though I didn’t have to wait long to find out as a shadow soon covered me one day and standing right next to me was him blocking the sun light better than the tree that towered over me. As I looked up at him I was pleasantly surprised and a little shocked to see him standing over me with his strange colored eyes staring down right into mine. For a moment neither one of us spoke we just stared at each other almost spellbound until it was broken when he spoke. But not soon enough for me to begin to feel like some clichéd character from a limited story in which the author lacked the writing skills it took to accurately describe what it feels like to get struck by that proverbial lightening bolt and feel what it feels like to experience love at first sight.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEin5IDukDoJXcWgu-kXzfzE0-0kzAQTCTAIE04I4Trt0mWm1qaE3OKI0wHOeKUq-9HCWEq57tf2sv_edIRqQGRWkJ48GG97f8GJF0U9pXF9RVm_prxWxlW3yEnQ52CI6zSOJ7J6bDgzq40/s1600/Screenshot-2305.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEin5IDukDoJXcWgu-kXzfzE0-0kzAQTCTAIE04I4Trt0mWm1qaE3OKI0wHOeKUq-9HCWEq57tf2sv_edIRqQGRWkJ48GG97f8GJF0U9pXF9RVm_prxWxlW3yEnQ52CI6zSOJ7J6bDgzq40/s400/Screenshot-2305.png" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“107, 172, 233” He said to me “I umm uhh… what? I don’t understand” I ask in surprise since I was not at all expecting to be spoken to in numbers. Nor could his timing be any worse. This was far from the way that I had imagined it would go “Your hair” He said while pointing to my short blue locks of it. “Those are its hex numbers for its color.”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6UzUSG0i-8BtbkNbTj5KMduJf4wjrNEzNW7skWuaW0ycI4eOJVKJSEdWg5ZdQEiF_ZLcUiG1vEmtqMgDsMHrPiWv83xf7C-CvQD3oZ9WGPtc-LCLKQ_6hyxUuCrHcQwRk190K9VRfmOE/s1600/Screenshot-2311.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6UzUSG0i-8BtbkNbTj5KMduJf4wjrNEzNW7skWuaW0ycI4eOJVKJSEdWg5ZdQEiF_ZLcUiG1vEmtqMgDsMHrPiWv83xf7C-CvQD3oZ9WGPtc-LCLKQ_6hyxUuCrHcQwRk190K9VRfmOE/s400/Screenshot-2311.png" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Umm okay… thank you?” I replied not sure what else to say to him as he continued to stare fixatedly at me until I began to stare back at him the same way. “I’m… I’m sorry I’m not really all that good at this… I’ll leave you alone right now if you want.” He said after looking away while his hands nervously played with his sleeve’s cuffs as he twiddled the fabric in between his fingers before nervously scratching the back his head while I pushed back my hoodie sleeve and looked at my watch to see the time before replying. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4A8MmEPBjMEsGyz_HL98a7z-zGkw0j4gTnenedGaxpB4UqRK2l8yi1e03Zto3VNfZqbC1l80lwVi2tAb2upcV4HqGHkW8fXsHZfXwSomJA49zDHrqPoSBP-Iuv6c_hfuTV2F73l6KFD0/s1600/Screenshot-2307.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4A8MmEPBjMEsGyz_HL98a7z-zGkw0j4gTnenedGaxpB4UqRK2l8yi1e03Zto3VNfZqbC1l80lwVi2tAb2upcV4HqGHkW8fXsHZfXwSomJA49zDHrqPoSBP-Iuv6c_hfuTV2F73l6KFD0/s400/Screenshot-2307.png" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“You don’t have to leave but I do. I have to meet my parents that are coming to visit me this weekend. And you’re not the only one that isn’t good at this sort of thing.” I said awkwardly feeling bad for the guy as I stood up before leaving. I wanted to completely blow off my parents after all it’s not like they didn’t see me every day for eighteen years. But I couldn’t since I kind of needed the money since Can-Can and I pooled the last of our money together last weekend for pizza and other forms of takeout since the cafeteria was closed Saturday and Sunday. <em>Wow that sounds kind of bad</em> I mused while I walked away.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8m8xYDD2WjCmqGYzLmlGwEPH_c_YnFWGMxwNpuRbgwzDcR4sHzDKErlAO6RuwFBlxRLw6sc7MIsdiX1qH-KJ8JdbgU3JgJt2l1_f895PdVl2yp82uG_j0St3d5bAOofOXugrsY1tdUn0/s1600/Screenshot-2320.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8m8xYDD2WjCmqGYzLmlGwEPH_c_YnFWGMxwNpuRbgwzDcR4sHzDKErlAO6RuwFBlxRLw6sc7MIsdiX1qH-KJ8JdbgU3JgJt2l1_f895PdVl2yp82uG_j0St3d5bAOofOXugrsY1tdUn0/s400/Screenshot-2320.png" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">As much as my father hated this city he always assured me that he enjoyed visiting me as he did the normal fatherly things like making sure everything was going fine in school or asking me if I needed any more money. We would usually eat dinner at one of the nicer restaurants and then catch a Milky-Way show downtown. As always over dinner the both of them would pepper me with questions ‘like how was school going? Did I meet anyone new? What was I planning on doing after school was over? Was I going to be staying in Briocheporte or moving somewhere else? Did I know that my great grandfather was a famous painter that was often hired and traveled around the world painting murals? <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMHq1bH-e1cP3SdpRQNSf6t4ZFFvtk29j0dXacCTDEAXsQmqHLWvCy12TaemSTdGtSTBqLXjXbo48lNh73A1qaN90xwcpkCjPrY2K4lmzFdWVo94371hUCvMecB30qTPVFXEQenyTNcU0/s1600/Screenshot-2351.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMHq1bH-e1cP3SdpRQNSf6t4ZFFvtk29j0dXacCTDEAXsQmqHLWvCy12TaemSTdGtSTBqLXjXbo48lNh73A1qaN90xwcpkCjPrY2K4lmzFdWVo94371hUCvMecB30qTPVFXEQenyTNcU0/s400/Screenshot-2351.png" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Most of the questions were usually answered with an “I don’t know yet.” Because well I didn’t know yet, I was still in my first year at school and still had 3 more to go. For all I knew what I planned to do now would be something totally different than what I might be planning to do by the time I graduate.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>By the time we were done eating and heading to the show I was more than welcoming a few hours of quiet between us. I loved my parents more than anything but with every visit it always seemed like they forgot what it was like to be my age and have the whole world and everything in front of you.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4j16IyTiTyW7kP27NqNO4NaKU0_m4w-TkRszHBFIRySXJ_A95eXIMMQ5-Pdr6KWaODU3A4o1S49UrGa8-DBAUdHP5I7w58wG_-UI43w4hWxMrqoZrblzDxWoV_DAQT7AReds8EudwIVc/s1600/Screenshot-2349.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4j16IyTiTyW7kP27NqNO4NaKU0_m4w-TkRszHBFIRySXJ_A95eXIMMQ5-Pdr6KWaODU3A4o1S49UrGa8-DBAUdHP5I7w58wG_-UI43w4hWxMrqoZrblzDxWoV_DAQT7AReds8EudwIVc/s400/Screenshot-2349.png" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">On the way back my mother wanted to look in a store close by to my dorm’s for something that Wisteria had requested that she get when they came to visit me. So my father and I waited in the courtyard of the dormitory as neither of the two of us were fond of department stores. The usuals were outside that night including a girl that I had often spied alongside Mr. Pink and Mr. Hat. Their trio seemed almost impenetrable and here I probably blew my chances with Mr. Pink earlier. But she was alone on the phone and oddly my father noticed her. “Who is that?” He asked with a nod over to her. “I have no clue why?” I asked him back while he watched her feeling only slightly creeped out. “I don’t know I just have the feeling that I’ve met her before.” My dad answered as an unpleasant though entered my head.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU-Ukli3QYyBHgyphf9Am84mzMIsHK5i7kGi0dVRsUDCvTMxMJml0yXG7r9SHtaXMfS1KWPzasowwigjoC_E1GhN11bSypGLzCgSZ7cJryYsTPQsxSm9fwi9Mq0y-Cb3yx6IEBtF3DVXU/s1600/Screenshot-2354.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU-Ukli3QYyBHgyphf9Am84mzMIsHK5i7kGi0dVRsUDCvTMxMJml0yXG7r9SHtaXMfS1KWPzasowwigjoC_E1GhN11bSypGLzCgSZ7cJryYsTPQsxSm9fwi9Mq0y-Cb3yx6IEBtF3DVXU/s400/Screenshot-2354.png" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Umm no you haven’t she is like Porfirio and Wisteria’s age so no you haven’t. Oh my Berry you didn’t did you?” Now the thought was there and I couldn’t refrain from saying it out loud “Did what?” He asked me back in confusion “I can’t believe you did that to mom twice. Is she my sister? I have another sister.” <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzMcm4fzO0oD0UOzBF6PWkgCaRK9JzsR61Plq8Vn1Hy7AV0J81aQjH3m3Ksm1ppBWy7_klNEKurdj_PA56vy-dLf24EzBlRzmhJiyzwNPi-Ly0eTHDf0ZtSiOw3TWtNdLwmHmAKiNtAQc/s1600/Screenshot-2355.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzMcm4fzO0oD0UOzBF6PWkgCaRK9JzsR61Plq8Vn1Hy7AV0J81aQjH3m3Ksm1ppBWy7_klNEKurdj_PA56vy-dLf24EzBlRzmhJiyzwNPi-Ly0eTHDf0ZtSiOw3TWtNdLwmHmAKiNtAQc/s400/Screenshot-2355.png" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“No. I haven’t don’t be ridiculous. Now look here comes your mother please be serious and knock it off.” My dad said almost angrily as the conversation immediately ended and a nice evening ended quite awkwardly. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilzhd2jge2Jx_obwV4dzDPctF-X83JEIsRzBAXBsglNIvWoFUuAs5Dct8ET9Jlng5SpN0nJbJ57moOkX_Vhyu-43td9QjgSMj3TDMfTFN5PWvqmyfGoyRDSOJBS6rm1mKua1_QpBONxkE/s1600/Screenshot-2356.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilzhd2jge2Jx_obwV4dzDPctF-X83JEIsRzBAXBsglNIvWoFUuAs5Dct8ET9Jlng5SpN0nJbJ57moOkX_Vhyu-43td9QjgSMj3TDMfTFN5PWvqmyfGoyRDSOJBS6rm1mKua1_QpBONxkE/s400/Screenshot-2356.png" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Eventually cafeteria food lost its appeal quite quickly and I was having lunch on and off with my cousin Shadow Sea, who always seemed to know where a cool restaurant just opened somewhere. Half the time I tried to arrange it so we’d be eating close to the school to maybe run into Mr. Pink who hadn’t talked to me since that Friday a few weeks back when my parents came to visit. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-D9iyEFZU-esP1MLmFECbZ-g5o0L-a43JTkHoDrZGjkAzbVmCU_ErogLNj6baB-cZyLq3_unupPY4WPlgml7pt9OT7vTmxckjsDg7cbyQMUqs2okcuO9DlpP-k2tpNeslUMNIuzWQO-I/s1600/Screenshot-2321.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-D9iyEFZU-esP1MLmFECbZ-g5o0L-a43JTkHoDrZGjkAzbVmCU_ErogLNj6baB-cZyLq3_unupPY4WPlgml7pt9OT7vTmxckjsDg7cbyQMUqs2okcuO9DlpP-k2tpNeslUMNIuzWQO-I/s400/Screenshot-2321.png" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“You like someone don’t you?” Shadow Sea asked while we grabbed lunch from a food truck. Their burritos were to die for at this rate I was going to pack on those freshmen 15 really quickly. “I do not!” I protested which only made Shadow Sea smirk “Ok maybe I do but I doubt that he even knows I’m alive.” <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjciiV0wwRflusxtkqj8jF0jvw7gqOqtiyFWNfyLFm-ANiRoiJPwl2wlHapt1Kx7bYPRt8pWFo5SD9JlLs-9VKtGDOfC1p1W8T4tub-aG-haBjZRdSIDY7NwNHv-7lOUheaR2oFtymGefw/s1600/Screenshot-2324.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjciiV0wwRflusxtkqj8jF0jvw7gqOqtiyFWNfyLFm-ANiRoiJPwl2wlHapt1Kx7bYPRt8pWFo5SD9JlLs-9VKtGDOfC1p1W8T4tub-aG-haBjZRdSIDY7NwNHv-7lOUheaR2oFtymGefw/s400/Screenshot-2324.png" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“What’s his name?” He asked me as we sat down at a table and began to eat. “I don’t really know. I haven’t really told anyone that I like him.” I admitted before taking a bite of greasy goodness. Berry I loved these things. The rest of the students from my school milled around during the class break, some of them getting lunch others only having enough time to make a quick run to their lockers. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTNI7gVHj5PsMySclPe2CcDbrNG2v11j8JHitwkrMd8vhPHqhsZEivYambu17YcG2wQXqRY2lSA_FIHt9dRouYMNXGer1r3mrVFDlXKuB8fLVGSTW8xQTLXRgy5gk3LPFTKJuakB0pv64/s1600/Screenshot-2327.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTNI7gVHj5PsMySclPe2CcDbrNG2v11j8JHitwkrMd8vhPHqhsZEivYambu17YcG2wQXqRY2lSA_FIHt9dRouYMNXGer1r3mrVFDlXKuB8fLVGSTW8xQTLXRgy5gk3LPFTKJuakB0pv64/s400/Screenshot-2327.png" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">But one particular head a mix of a shade of bright and pastel pink caught my eye next to a purple and blue one. Alright so there was a reason why I suggested Shadow Sea to meet me around my school for lunch. From my peripheral vision I saw Shadow Sea turn around and look towards where my gaze had settled on moments ago. “Please tell me you are not looking at him.” <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJsmxioNHFa8XR5R_DJsEq4KBLu6PAPaZx7n560fNsL_vQw50Sd_fEy_ekNQ-MosoET__RQo8Jbu9d0zF8FwfSCfBZruyct_jngvPL8OI-IAt1qaosVHstjxbW4QnvlDGxbAah33cFthM/s1600/Screenshot-2347.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJsmxioNHFa8XR5R_DJsEq4KBLu6PAPaZx7n560fNsL_vQw50Sd_fEy_ekNQ-MosoET__RQo8Jbu9d0zF8FwfSCfBZruyct_jngvPL8OI-IAt1qaosVHstjxbW4QnvlDGxbAah33cFthM/s400/Screenshot-2347.png" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Oh umm no I am totally not looking at that pink guy over there. No I am looking at the uhh umm the rainbow colored guy.” I lied through my teeth hoping that Shadow Sea would believe that I was checking out Froot, but he didn’t “Starry that guy is so not your type or mine for that matter. Pinkie over there went to St. Honoré Prep with me for not even a month before his Aunt pulled him out of school. Even though he’s a year above me by the end of his first day everyone knew who he was. For the first few days he wore literally his pajamas every day. From a robe to slippers, bunny ones if memory serves me right. And then when they finally got him to wear the uniform you know what he did? He wore it but it had been taken apart and stapled back together. Apparently he did something besides that and got kicked out or something like that I don’t know. But it was really bad apparently because they wouldn’t even let him retrieve his belonging from his locker.” <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCrqhzTS4NzKemfBk2D3e_YBnfK-TJXL3hklIqY1zc2qw94hLMviewqOnwK9Kilc6zxxhqWMaU3DmvRLXyXMXAu7Ka5zyCPQxUWiJrOoVahl_lSeNVts0VE6zc8Kmg2e2xDbx7AVUxkSI/s1600/Screenshot-2338.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCrqhzTS4NzKemfBk2D3e_YBnfK-TJXL3hklIqY1zc2qw94hLMviewqOnwK9Kilc6zxxhqWMaU3DmvRLXyXMXAu7Ka5zyCPQxUWiJrOoVahl_lSeNVts0VE6zc8Kmg2e2xDbx7AVUxkSI/s400/Screenshot-2338.png" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Oh really? Aren’t you the little gossip Shadow Sea? I would have never guessed.” I teased as he stuck his tongue out at me while I laughed at him. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0wos5f_Xe_1-7iuUCQAWtNARqzFkxVOgzwzujmQ-qW0W36JmSEfudWqSy516qJJVFzOKt0F95CXOnHM2MOr4JCJHrfiaIPzY30uvDJZKxAqiD6mkYR9crta-w1ioXIeMEkt6J5Kp8N8g/s1600/Screenshot-2344.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0wos5f_Xe_1-7iuUCQAWtNARqzFkxVOgzwzujmQ-qW0W36JmSEfudWqSy516qJJVFzOKt0F95CXOnHM2MOr4JCJHrfiaIPzY30uvDJZKxAqiD6mkYR9crta-w1ioXIeMEkt6J5Kp8N8g/s400/Screenshot-2344.png" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Don’t tell me you’re stalking him. I should have known there was a reason why you wanted to eat here instead of at that nifty indoor retro drivethru place I suggested.” Shadow sighed as he picked at his food a bowl of clam chowder of all things to get from a food truck. “It’s not considered stalking if you live in the same building and go to the same school it’s called coincidence.” I argued using my hopefully sound logic and wit before turning the conversation “So what about you? How’s your love life treating you?” <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhivVQfeqjwZFxi9z5j4qOqyDDfttcQsM2kCIXfm97zuU8mzrUAW0ufZ4_KB8AkiP4DVViQ96gPF56zsIyxFMj3XTT4qTzywsWFp9YxDgbZYuhoxxlbzB3wYWrd1KXmu3hvSsO_jRaW6Eg/s1600/Screenshot-2343.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhivVQfeqjwZFxi9z5j4qOqyDDfttcQsM2kCIXfm97zuU8mzrUAW0ufZ4_KB8AkiP4DVViQ96gPF56zsIyxFMj3XTT4qTzywsWFp9YxDgbZYuhoxxlbzB3wYWrd1KXmu3hvSsO_jRaW6Eg/s400/Screenshot-2343.png" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Oh you know same old, same old.” Shadow Sea replied rather quickly as he looked away almost mirroring the way that I had acted not even ten minutes ago. “Are you still undecided?” I questioned in curiosity. “No, yes, well no. It’s just that… I know what I want but I don’t know if I have the guts to go for it especially when half the time I don’t know who I am.” He answered as I watched Sanguinello friends meet up with him after Froot walked away. “Shadow you should know what you want by now.” I replied incredulously after all we were 18 years old now and the guy still was undecided about practically everything in his life expect for filming. Seriously if you were to put two different bowls of cereal and tell him to pick one, he’d be there all day. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_bjZqzRsy7EB-XH4TF19DkByMQD752Gqr5ZtDs7JINfy3VERqY7zyFK031lDnm_2kM2yH-4yvVV-VlBOqrUt9ntPDvGefS1dV-CKQsUwPzs064kRzdhsX-s7shEyDMv3Smi9sQpPJiic/s1600/Screenshot-2333.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_bjZqzRsy7EB-XH4TF19DkByMQD752Gqr5ZtDs7JINfy3VERqY7zyFK031lDnm_2kM2yH-4yvVV-VlBOqrUt9ntPDvGefS1dV-CKQsUwPzs064kRzdhsX-s7shEyDMv3Smi9sQpPJiic/s400/Screenshot-2333.png" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“It’s difficult to explain but in the simplest terms you know that feeling you get when you see a person you’re attracted to?” He asked before continuing on without waiting for an answer “Well I’ve never had that with either girls or guys, Berry knows I’ve tried to date few of each but I never get beyond that first date or first show of affection before I’ve already made up in my mind that this one really, really isn’t for me. I mean what if I make a decision and it affects the rest of my life and for the rest of that life I am unhappy?” </span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“I think you are really making this out harder than it has to be Shadow Sea.” I started to say before he quickly interrupted me “That’s because you already know what you want and who you want. I on the other hand don’t really know what I want to wake up to every day for the rest of my life and it perplexes me because like you said I’m 18 and I have yet to meet an individual that sways me to a certain side or be in a relationship that lasts longer than one date.” <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8vYvS6n4-J1ALl849od4EpHiR1k8nDmpB6DpfznGV4tXvCKnqMLZxRW-I4fQT-unl784X7O6Z4kILirbrh2g9TkvYY86_NG_eN4J5-jGYDR1BG3wrojKBwDLeIWmFzVGdO_z0Wsuw5qY/s1600/Screenshot-2332.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8vYvS6n4-J1ALl849od4EpHiR1k8nDmpB6DpfznGV4tXvCKnqMLZxRW-I4fQT-unl784X7O6Z4kILirbrh2g9TkvYY86_NG_eN4J5-jGYDR1BG3wrojKBwDLeIWmFzVGdO_z0Wsuw5qY/s400/Screenshot-2332.png" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Why do you even need to be swayed to any side? Couldn't you just pick both? Things don't have to be one way or the other. And the reason why you haven't been in a relationship longer than a date is before you're too picky. Remember your last one? You ended it not even half way through because they ate some food off of your plate.” I retorted feeling like the conversation was just beginning to go into circles. “Because it’s like the popsicle incident.” He began to mention which brought me back to the day we spent almost two hours in a grocery store’s frozen food section while he debated over two boxes of popsicles, refusing to even buy both of them. And buy the time he decided they were both melted on the inside. “Both have things I like but I can only choose one to spend the rest of my life with eventually. If I pick the crayon scribblers and spend the rest of my days looking for the best flavored crayon scribbler popsicle when I should have picked rocket pops all along then it’s just one big waste of life.” <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_aIvL4A8qVjRw699DlRa9EJjmxyOrOT5pW9tGUtWPtNwu6Bp_g_8K8XvuZ_qDLfs_QqDua-oOxtthRsbcFhbIfkB5rjm5_H2fUNDAaY2Xw0DvFVtv3j3bdUh3m3omcoIUCQlw6g1FO3k/s1600/Screenshot-2335.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_aIvL4A8qVjRw699DlRa9EJjmxyOrOT5pW9tGUtWPtNwu6Bp_g_8K8XvuZ_qDLfs_QqDua-oOxtthRsbcFhbIfkB5rjm5_H2fUNDAaY2Xw0DvFVtv3j3bdUh3m3omcoIUCQlw6g1FO3k/s400/Screenshot-2335.png" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Even though his reasoning may have not made sense to me or probably the rest of the world when something the answer to it was a clear as day, I had to appreciate the amount that he did care about this. In his black and white world where everything always had its place and time, he had slowly made everything gray with his constant decision obsessing.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHDVoAwnvEF-wqkPvTWzR5p8k5V3Wfb_fESqQZZ5xyb2JYEciyuUWvRhus_nYkViggrxFn8Wag68bUnguw9YTUqXNel4y-ZjfncdU6_KRGl1RxskxH9Cfe-MqVkXOXxblGQU72ppdjLH4/s1600/Screenshot-2345.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHDVoAwnvEF-wqkPvTWzR5p8k5V3Wfb_fESqQZZ5xyb2JYEciyuUWvRhus_nYkViggrxFn8Wag68bUnguw9YTUqXNel4y-ZjfncdU6_KRGl1RxskxH9Cfe-MqVkXOXxblGQU72ppdjLH4/s400/Screenshot-2345.png" width="400" /></a></div>cupcakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08521399676517388209noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5466120303155862835.post-79069783088474760522012-01-04T20:32:00.000-08:002012-01-04T20:32:22.370-08:00The Hazelwood<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>Warning there is some tasteful nudity ahead<br />
<a name='more'></a> I went out to the hazel wood,<br />
Because a fire was in my head,<br />
And cut and peeled a hazel wand,<br />
And hooked a berry to a thread;<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://i782.photobucket.com/albums/yy101/cupcake83/Hazelwood/4cf250a0.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="http://i782.photobucket.com/albums/yy101/cupcake83/Hazelwood/4cf250a0.png" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<br />
<br />
And when white moths were on the wing,<br />
And moth-like stars were flickering out,<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://i782.photobucket.com/albums/yy101/cupcake83/Hazelwood/ceb6685b.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="http://i782.photobucket.com/albums/yy101/cupcake83/Hazelwood/ceb6685b.png" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
I dropped the berry in a stream<br />
And caught a little silver trout.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://i782.photobucket.com/albums/yy101/cupcake83/Hazelwood/6b8d8797.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="http://i782.photobucket.com/albums/yy101/cupcake83/Hazelwood/6b8d8797.png" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<br />
When I had laid it on the floor<br />
I went to blow the fire aflame,<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://i782.photobucket.com/albums/yy101/cupcake83/Hazelwood/1a7b0923.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="http://i782.photobucket.com/albums/yy101/cupcake83/Hazelwood/1a7b0923.png" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<br />
<br />
But something rustled on the floor,<br />
And some one called me by my name:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://i782.photobucket.com/albums/yy101/cupcake83/Hazelwood/974d8be9.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="http://i782.photobucket.com/albums/yy101/cupcake83/Hazelwood/974d8be9.png" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<br />
<br />
It had become a glimmering girl<br />
With apple blossom in her hair<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://i782.photobucket.com/albums/yy101/cupcake83/Hazelwood/44e6212e.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="http://i782.photobucket.com/albums/yy101/cupcake83/Hazelwood/44e6212e.png" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<br />
<br />
Who called me by my name and ran<br />
And faded through the brightening air.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://i782.photobucket.com/albums/yy101/cupcake83/Hazelwood/b66fb85f.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="http://i782.photobucket.com/albums/yy101/cupcake83/Hazelwood/b66fb85f.png" width="400" /></a></div><br />
When I am old with wandering<br />
Through hollow lands and hilly lands,<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://i782.photobucket.com/albums/yy101/cupcake83/Hazelwood/7b36e6aa.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="http://i782.photobucket.com/albums/yy101/cupcake83/Hazelwood/7b36e6aa.png" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<br />
I will find out where she has gone,<br />
And kiss her lips and take her hands;<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://i782.photobucket.com/albums/yy101/cupcake83/Hazelwood/652b467a.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="http://i782.photobucket.com/albums/yy101/cupcake83/Hazelwood/652b467a.png" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<br />
And walk among long dappled grass,<br />
And pluck till time and times are done<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://i782.photobucket.com/albums/yy101/cupcake83/Hazelwood/c519e934-1.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="http://i782.photobucket.com/albums/yy101/cupcake83/Hazelwood/c519e934-1.png" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<br />
The silver apples of the moon,<br />
The golden apples of the sun.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://i782.photobucket.com/albums/yy101/cupcake83/Hazelwood/273d267f.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="http://i782.photobucket.com/albums/yy101/cupcake83/Hazelwood/273d267f.png" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div style="color: black;"><br />
</div><span style="color: black;">~</span><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cwz3sUi-lM0" style="color: black;">Patrick Wolf Lyrics</a> taken from the poem<br />
“The Song of Wandering Aegnus” by William Butler Yeats.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/cwz3sUi-lM0?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>cupcakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08521399676517388209noreply@blogger.com5