#got scared by my own blackout poem!

[reallybadblackoutpoems]

the shining (1977) - stephen king

"boo"

[castiels-majestic-wings]

Poems in the Dark

Paring: Loki x Reader

Word Count: 1,610

Warnings: None

Posted: 20/01/2021

Loki Taglist: @lucywrites02 @gaitwae

A/N: I couldn't find a fitting poem for this one shot, so i made my own. I hope its not terrible 🙏

Loki living in the tower was something you never thought you'd get used to. But after a couple of months of him not trying to kill anyone, you trusted him quite quickly. Tony on the other hand wouldn't let him anywhere near you unless supervised. You never got a moment alone with him. But you wanted to. During the time he's been here, you noticed the small things that others wouldn't. The way his eyes would cry silent tears. The way his body moved with his emotions. The way that words from the others affected him. You noticed it all, and developed feelings for the man. Of course, you couldn't let anyone know, well except for Natasha. She could see through any lie. But she promised not to tell anyone.

Luck seemed to be on your side today, everyone was on a mission, and Tony had reluctantly left you and Loki alone in the tower. You were a fighter. The avengers always tried to find time to train you. Tony had no choice but to leave you there alone, with Loki. The God of Mischief himself. He feared the worst when he left. But you had reassured him that you could handle yourself if Loki tried anything. Even though you knew he wouldn't. Having time to yourself was unusual, yet calming. You had sat down by the fireplace reading your favourite book of poems. You hardly had time to read anymore, so you took your chance to do so now. But as you got halfway through your book, the lights went out. You weren't exactly afraid of the dark. But being an Avenger, you knew it was bad news. Placing your book on the table and grabbing your dagger from the holster around your thigh, you headed to the fusebox. Was it tampered with, or was it just a normal blackout? By the time you got there, Loki was nearby unnoticed by you.

Noticing that it was a blackout you put your dagger back in its holster before swiftly turning and taking a step forward into a broad chest, belonging to the only other person in the building, Loki. Taking a step back, you apologized for bumping into him until you heard a low chuckle coming from him. You couldn't see his face in the darkness but you could make out the small features of his face. He looked calm, from what you could tell.

"The power's out, we should probably light the fire for some light" Starting a conversation with the man scared you, but the silence was deafening. Scrambling past him towards the fireplace, you placed the logs before lighting it. The orange glow hit the surface of your face which he studied from afar. You had grabbed your book from the table closeby and sat by the fire. He admired your love for books. It was one of the things you had in common. Yet you had never conversed, except for a friendly hello as you pass by each other, or the small talk when you had talked in groups. He couldn’t exactly read in his room anymore so he hesitantly sat down next to you facing the fire. He thought of how to bring up any conversation with you instead of staying silent. Then he noticed the book you were reading was one he had read a week prior.

“It seems you have great taste in the books you read. I have noticed the titles you read are mostly of the literary type.” Looking up at him you smiled. He never really liked conversing with anyone so the fact that he started one with you made your stomach fill with butterflies.

“Well yes, Tony doesn’t understand my love for reading, but there’s just something about the way they are written.-” You placed your book on your lap and your hands moved as you spoke, expressing your feelings within them. “-The way they take me out of reality, and into a different one, my imagination runs wild trying to see the images the authors are describing. It’s hard to talk about the stuff I enjoy when no one shares the same hobbies” You had realised you were rambling nonsense, looking down at the book in your lap grasping it in your hand as if it would be taken away if you let go.

“I share your admirations. Being centuries, old gives you time to read many more books that Midgardians could. I’m always craving knowledge, so I appreciate the Midgardian books that I have read in my time here.” Being stuck in the dark with the man you liked made you forget his love for books. Facing him once more you shuffled closer holding the book his direction, eyes sparkling with wonder.

“Have you read this one? I don’t read poems that often, but this one just called out to me.-” A soft giggle escaped your lips as you continued “-The poems show someone’s feelings in such few lines. It’s admirable really. Pouring your heart out in such a small amount of time. I wish I was as open as these poems were.” Sadness cascaded your features. Loki had taken the book from your grasp, causing you to glare at him playfully as he searched through the pages. He found the page he wanted and recited the poem to you.

The one person who helps me sleep at night.

“Within my darkness, you are the light,

The thought of you plagues my mind,

Though these feelings may be true,

For your heart is one, that’s so true, and kind.

Its something I can’t undo.

My love for you is something I hesitate,

I feel as though, you’re my soulmate.”

He refused to look at you as he closed the book and placed it down.

“I uh- That is one of my favourites. It kinda hits close to home, as you Midgardians would say.” He knew how smart you were, he figured you would figure out it was a confession quite quickly. But the silence made him more nervous than he was before. He daren’t speak a word. Waiting for your reply. When one didn’t come his eyes looked at your figure slowly, only to notice a single tear rolling down your cheek. His face was full of panic his flustered state not knowing what to do. He wiped the tear away while apologising profusely. You giggled at his actions facing your head down wiping the tears that continued to fall. He stayed silent at your laugh. The laugh that he adored was mixed with the tears he never wanted to see on your face. You looked up at him your voice but a whisper.

“You- You have feelings for me?” The shyness in your voice surprised him, you were always so outgoing, no one had ever seen you this quiet, or shy. He didn’t hesitate to reply, showing the sincerity in his voice.

“Yes. I know its stupid since we haven’t spoken-” He silenced at your interruption. Eyes fixed at your form, sitting in front of him.

“It’s not stupid, Loki. I get how you feel, because...I- I have feelings for you too” His eyes widened not expecting you to reciprocate his feelings. Neither of you knew what to do at this point. You were inexperienced with relationships. Being with S.H.I.E.L.D since you were 11, you were a trained assassin, much like Natasha, but seduction was one of your weaknesses. Loki might be centuries old, but he never had a genuine love interest. Thor was favoured by the women, as he was the one who always read, and never fought like a man since he used sorcery.

The fact that someone even had an interest in you made your heart flutter, but because it was him. Your heart burst. You took a leap of faith leaning in to kiss him, yet you hesitated. He had noticed, and closed the gap, placing his hand on your cheek, and the other on your knee. Your hand was placed against his chest, the other, you had palm down on the floor, using it for support. It was a kiss filled with passion, and the pure emotions you felt for each other. You didn’t know how long it was before you pulled away breathing in the oxygen your body lacked. He rested his forehead on yours, both breathing heavily, trying to catch your breath.

You both stayed in silence smiling at each other as you pulled away to take in his features in the low orange glow of the fire. It felt like hours that you were in his presence, but it was mere minutes before the power came back on. Letting your eyes adjust to the sudden light you missed the atmosphere the fire gave you. You got up and grabbed a spare blanket from your room and came back wrapping it around yourself and Loki before asking Friday to turn the lights off, so you could continue to enjoy each other's company in the atmosphere you had previously shared.

You had enjoyed his company slowly falling asleep to the peacefulness around you. He wrapped his arm around you as your head fell to his shoulder, falling asleep. Not long after, he did too.

Everyone had returned from their mission early that morning, but there you still slept, in the same position. The fire was out, but the small embers left on the logs showed it was used recently. You had awoken to Tony’s objection about how close you two were, and he was not happy. You had a lot of explaining to do.

[thefanficmonster]

You Kill Me

The Curator (The Dark Pictures Anthology) x Reader (Gender Neutral)

Warnings: None

Genre: Fluff, Humor

Summary: Death is something many people fear. Something we wish only upon our greatest enemies. Something that’s inevitable and unpredictable. However, Death himself is faced with a rather interesting person who appears to not be intimidated by him at all. In fact, she’s getting quite a good kick out of being friends with Death.

Requested by @xs1nister Hello hun! Thank you so much for your request, I’m so happy you decided to send it my way! I’m sorry to be posting it so late, I hope the final product will make it worth the wait. Please enjoy! Love, Vy ❤

“What’s up, Grim?“ The Curator winces when a familiar voice echoes throughout the repository, “Or do you prefer Reaper?“

He rolls his eyes, closing the book he’s been reading, “Very funny, Y/N. If I had known it would have this effect I would have never told you who I really am.”

Y/N is unbothered by the older man’s comment as they plop down in a chair opposite him, their eyes shinning and a smile across their face. “Hey, what’s with you being so serious? You gotta let a person celebrate the fact that they’ve gotten the privilege of having more than one run-in with death and are still drawing breath. Who else can say that? Certainly not the people you’ve met before!” they laugh, grabbing a small formatted novel from his desk and flipping it in their hands, examining the cover. 

He rolls his eyes for the second time today, but has nothing to say to them. He wants to scold them about their immature and overly enthusiastic behavior but he can’t. He likes seeing them like this - like themselves. They’re always a happy, bubbly person. They keep life for themself - and for others by being in theirs - interesting. His repository is a lot brighter since they stepped foot in it.

Speaking of that instance...

Y/N had wandered in and had given him this blank stare when their eyes met. He was surprised, to say the least. He could always sense people before they walked in, he always knew who’d be next to meet their fate’s end. They were never brought up on his radar though. He had no idea who they were, which was unusual for him. It was his job to know everyone who walked through the doors of his home before they even approached it. This person, however, was a mystery to him.

“How may I help you?“ He had asked them.

“I don’t- I don’t know what I’m doing here. I can’t remember-“ This was an odd occurrence, one he had never faced before.

Y/N was distressed and scared, rightfully so. They were lost in a part of town they had never been in before with no recollection of how they got there or why on Earth they had even taken off in that direction. He prepared them a hot cup of tea while they sat in one of the leather chairs, fidgeting nervously, face as pale as the light seeping in through the window.

“But you do remember everything else about yourself, correct?“ they nodded, “It could be a momentary blackout. Has such a thing happened before?“ they shook their head. “Peculiar.“

His own fate was toying with him, maybe offering him some sort of chance by sending him this human being, one that would clearly surprise him. Maybe to test his work ethic - death meets anyone who steps foot in the repository, no exceptions. The Curator was torn, he has been doing his job for years, putting an end to hundreds of thousands of stories of people throughout the years, had never once had a second thought about it - if the person was sent to him, his duty had to be fulfilled. There was nothing up to him to decide. But looking at Y/N with no intel on who they were, where they came from or why they had come, he felt they didn’t deserve it. He felt they had a lot more to do in life, that this story wasn’t ready for an end yet. Of course, that was breaking all his principles and rules and it was unfair to every person he had connected with their story’s end before, but he couldn’t bring himself to care about that. All he wanted was to spare Y/N.

“Would you...care to stop by sometime? I mean, the books seemed to intrigue you...“ He was hesitant, but God knows he wanted their answer to be ‘yes‘. He has never been a person who leaves mysteries unsolved. And this mystery by the name of Y/N was apparently his to solve.

“I’m a big book lover, so you can count on it.“ They flashed him a bright smile, one they somehow managed to reclaim after such a big shock and moment of absolute fear and confusion, “This time I’ll come on purpose, though.“

And they did, right the following day. And the day after. And the one after that. It became a routine. One he eventually felt the need to break for their sake, despite how big of a vacancy would open in the repository if they stopped coming by. He decided to do so by revealing his truth to them. It didn’t go as planned, to say the least...

“Like, the ACTUAL Death? The Grim Reaper? Or is this a book reference I’m missing?“ Y/N hadn’t bat an eye, they went straight to discussing the matter. Didn’t bother wasting time in silence, trying to comprehend things on their own. Unlike him, they are a team player - a solution to them is a puzzle multiple people need to solve. One thing was for certain, however, his revelation had the complete opposite effect of what he’d hoped for. Fate had pulled its strings once again, working against the plans he had in mind, making them grow even more attached to him now that he was ‘cooler’ - their words, not his. Seeing that they couldn’t be scared away, finally coming to terms with the fact that they had come into his existence to stay, he stopped trying to control their fate. It didn’t make sense, especially not when he couldn’t even control his own.

“You know,“ Y/N starts talking again, snapping him out of his reminiscing, “I started writing again.“ They had been struggling with their creativity for a while and he was a part of their whole journey of retrieving it so hearing these news brought him immense joy, “I started this collection of short poems I’ve called ‘Friends With Death’. What do you think?” They have the audacity to wink at him with this self-pleased smile on their face.

“Oh dear,“ The Curator is once again left with a lack of words as he sighs in slight disappointment, “You can’t be serious.“

They shake their head, “No, no, no. I’m DEADLY serious.“

It’s moments like these that he wishes he never spilled the truth about himself, while also being glad he did. Either way, he’s happy it didn’t drive Y/N away and send them running for the hills. Their jokes may be vexing, but they also get a smile, maybe sometimes even a chuckle from him. Not that he’d ever admit it or show it in front of them, of course.

“You kill me, Y/N.“ He finally breathes out, a small smile on his face - the result of the intense gratitude he feels for having them in his life.

Y/N cracks up, falling into a fit of giggles as they lean back in the chair, arms clutching at their stomach. Hearing and seeing them laugh like this makes surviving dozens of death puns daily well worth it.

[qwertyfingers]

WOO CONGRATS ON THE TEET YEET!!! also also, your poetry is beautiful. can i ask how you got started?

thank u!!! apologies for how long this answer got i’m waffling

so i feel like the start of my answer is kind of unhelpful because i really just. started writing? no one encouraged me or helped me or anything i really just ran with it on my own. a lot of how i write is really just how i think - the metaphors and similes and weird comparisons come very naturally to me. i have no idea if this is how other writers feel?? but i can’t give any advice on how to develop that beyond just. writing a lot.

i’ve find poetry to be really good emotional outlet, so a lot of what i write about is very repetitive in terms of themes - a lot of mentions of my dad and my stepdad, compulsions, teeth and while i don’t think any of what i wrote back then was very good or worth sharing it did give me a lot of practice in kind of. building a writing headspace?

i can’t really point to any specific inspirations early on because i really didn’t read very much. most of my favourite poems when i was younger were very structured and used a lot of rhyme - i really enjoyed war poetry when we studied it in high school for example - but i’ve always written pretty loosely, a lot of enjambment and playing around with formatting. i felt very drawn to mary oliver and richard siken when i discovered them in my mid-late teens (although i defintiely think that i understand them better rereading them now as an adult). 

i’ve written many different styles of poem, but i really only have two style of writing behaviour: either i write total stream-of-consciousness and don’t edit it until i’ve totally run out of things to say - pompeii, reimagined from this collection was written this way, as was FOIL - or i write very conscious of the formatting from the start - some examples of this are unholied, ajovy and my father thinks i should learn how to code. sometimes there’s a crossover like in inelegant fingers but typically its one or the other.

the city i live in now has a pretty big ~poetry scene~ with several regular live readings, even more random events throughout the year, and people regularly coming from out of town to read here. i hiiiiighly recommend going to readings if you live somewhere that you can get to them because it can expose you to a really wide range of writers, from first-timers to people with long publishing histories. being involved in that scene really taught me that there’s really no hierarchy of talent, that there are fantastic writers at every ~skill level~. and more than anything, that it’s possible to hate a poem or poet and still get a lot out of their work. i’ve made a lot of friends through going to and helping to host events too :) 

some recommendations for writing that i personally find useful:

spend a lot of time thinking about writing! when i’m out walking, even when i’m getting groceries, i’m spinning thoughts around my head about writing. i frequently think up what i think of as the ‘headline’ of a poem when i’m busy doing something else. write that shit down! keep a notebook or note on your phone and write them down. 

relatedly: absolutely cannibalise your old poems. if you’ve got a piece you don’t like any more, or that you could never finish but you’re attached to it, steal your favourite lines and work them into soemthing else, or challenge yourself to rewrite that poem in a new style or format

i keep a word doc full of lines and phrases i liked that i couldn’t fit into anything or that weren’t developed enough that i go back to and take things from. sometimes it’s just a handful of words - ‘ transposing neuroses onto neurons’ sat in that doc for months before i used it - and sometimes its entire lines or even stanzas. i also paste in here things i deleted from existing pieces during editing - sometimes you like something but just not in its current setting yknow

give yourself writing challenges! there are allllll kinds of things you can challenge yourself to do. find a photograph you like, and try to write the feeling it gives you, or write about the content of it, or from the perspective of the person taking the picture. pick an album or song and listen to it on repeat and write. go to different places and see if your writing feels different there. write a poem first thing in the morning or on your lunch break or write before you go to bed. write when you feel really happy, or scared, or angry or tired. write about someone you love, or someone you really hate. write using found-language - blackout poetry is one version, but you can also cut words out and collage them. a friend of mine wrote an amazing poem using ads on gumtree. i like to hit random page on wikipedia and challenge myself to write using the words on that page or about the content of it. i dont find timed challenges helpful but some people do. experiment! ask your friends for prompts! if you’ve friends who also write poetry, give eachother challenges and give eachother feedback

also, if you’ve got friends who write, absolutely ask for their input on a piee if you get stuck. my friend tasha frequently helps me with my grammar and punctuation to improve clarity and many more people have helped me with ideas, promts, challenges and encouragement :)

my personal favourite: write about fiction! a lot of my favourite of my own poems were about this. ;kodos in error - which desperately needs reworking but that i’m nevertheless very proud of - was written about the tarsus iv storyline in the original star trek. the only overt reference to it’s origin is the name kodos in the title - and it’s very much about myself too - but ultimately the entire time i wrote it i was thinking about that plot. i’ve also written about fortnite and the expanse  

play around with what you want from a poem. sometimes it’s emotional, sometimes it’s all about the sound and the feel of it in your mouth, sometimes it’s about imagery and giving the reader a clear picture of something. Sometimes you want to do something fun with the formatting, or make it short and snappy or long and lilting. Try not to get stuck in one type of poem. 

personally unless i’m writing for a specific thing - like a reading of to submit to a specific journal - i never think about a reader until i’ve finished at least the first draft. i’m not a professional; i share the things i like but ultimately i write for myself only. i don’t need to have an audience in mind for anything i write, and i think that helps me. not everyone finds this easier, but i do.

read poetry! read absolutely anything you can get your hands on - even when you don’t like something you can learn from it. poetry foundations 

talk about poetry! i didn’t go to school for creative writing and most of what i learned in HS went totally over my head, but i find talking about poetry i like with friends to be infinitely valuable. discussion will help you find things you didn’t see before, and understand why the things you do like resonate so much, how you can maybe replicate those in your own writing etc.

if you’ve never written before, it is literally never too late to start. just get going! don’t let your inner critic get in the way, just write and write and try not to worry too much about whether its ~good~ until you get more used to writing.  there are a thousnad different ways for a poem to be Good. if you write for emotional release and it works then its good. if you write to get other people to understand how you feel and that comes through, its good. if you just want to make it sound a certain way then its good. 

<3

[no-eye-browed-freak]

Why am I the one who gets cyber bullied

Why am I the one who gets chosen to be cyber bullied?     This week someone posted a video making a rape joke. I have always learned to call someone out when they did something wrong. I commented on their video rape jokes aren't funny,  there are never funny, they are not yours to joke about. “Tranny” “snowflake” “n-word” “shemale” “cotton picker” Is what I got called back and there's more. Usually, I would brush it off maybe ignore them, come back with the insult such as failed abortion, an insult to society, a loner. But these comments got so bad people to start cyber bullying me on my own Tik Tok account. The only hater this school year I had was mostly myself. I'm not perfect far from it, I know I still can't look at myself in the mirror without feeling disappointed. But who really does. Some things I love about myself are my curls, my culture, my eyes, but there are things I hate about myself and I am sure you hate something about yourself too. I'm trying to make my mental health good instead of being depressed every day but how can I do that when people could sit behind the screen and tell me to kill myself. Someone said, “You called me a failed abortion but you're the one who wants to run away from their identity”. I think they meant I wanted to run away from my sex. But being transgender doesn't change anything about me.

A couple of days after I posted that comment I kept on getting hate. I replied to a comment saying “makes sense for someone following six nine.” They replied “ and you think you're better following Jojo Siwa”  the difference between six-nine the rapper and Jojo Siwa is that one is a performer that raped someone and it's definitely not a dancer who entertains children. While looking at all these hate comments I was also looking at the profile pictures. Somewhere the rainbow flag crossed out, somewhere pitch-black character holding a gun,  and somewhere the black power fist but with a middle finger. Some hate comments were also from black people. How could someone with the same culture as me defend the people who were calling me the n-word? More and more people were saying that dark humor helps rape victims. One of my favorite poems is called Rape Joke and these two young women stated “They are allowed to joke about it because it's theirs to joke about”. If I was white I wouldn’t joke about middle eastern people because it’s not mine to joke about.

A few days later after I made that comment, I made a video of me celebrating Black Culture. I did that because Tik Tok had a blackout which was a protest for more black creators to be seen. The first comment I got on that post was “no”.  The next comment I got on that post was “there should be a day for white creators”. I replied with “white creators didn't have to deal with slavery”. And today a comment I got on the post was: “L - Liberty G - Guns B - Beer T - Trump” At first, I played it off and replied to his comment saying “A - All C - Cops A - Are B - Bastards

J - Just L - Like Y - You” Then he replied with” pressed” and a clown emoji. I told him “ you are a neglected child I feel bad for you do you want a hug?” as a joke. He soon later said “ No if I were your parents I would go abort you and make you pick my cotton” Is this really the world we live in? Correction is this still the world we live in? What's funny about this is I checked his page and he likes music artists such as Frank Ocean, H.E.R, and more. Those are black artists you listen to delightful black music but you can't accept someone for being black. I deleted my account today. I’m considering taking a break from my other social media accounts. Sometimes I just want to throw my phone away. But I’m scared I’ll lose touch with my friends.

[thehummingindontblameme-blog]

this is not your ordinary tour post.

you’re probably rolling your eyes rn, but it’s true because i’ve already had all my reputation shows. this is a thank you post to @taylorswift​.  to thank her for the out of body experience that happened on 5-12-18.  above is a picture of me.  i’m sam!! and i would do anything for taylor allison swift!!

i’ve been a swiftie since 2014, but i wish i could go back in time and have become a swiftie earlier in my life!  but don’t you dare doubt me when i say that i know every word to every song, from i’d lie to mary’s song, from sweeter than fiction to come in with the rain, from shake it off to you belong with me!  my room is plastered in posters of @taylorswift​ and i finally decided to start a tumblr. 

i remember watching the new romantics tour video and thinking “i can’t even imagine seeing her in real life”  because for the past 4 years i’ve just been watching her life in pictures, dreaming impossible dreams.  but then...

reputation dropped.  the blackout happened. i didn’t know what was going on, i was excited and scared.  but i knew that taylor swift was not over.  look what you made me do dropped.  i remember crying on my floor and asking my cat if it was real.  if it was real that taylor was back. i played look what you made me do on repeat until gorgeous dropped, then call it what you want.  and then reputation dropped.  and i just about died.  it’s still the best album i’v ever heard from anybody, and i’m just so happy that i’m able to be a swiftie in this era.  but one thing that stood out was that there would be a freaking tour.  i had a chance.  i looked at the tour dates.  santa clara is 4 hours away, easy, and the tickets were pricey, but i wished and wished and wished.  

it happened.  it was new years eve, my 13th birthday.  (coincidence??? i think not) my family was driving home from going out to lunch and my mom said, “you know what, why don’t you open some presents a little early” and i was like “heck yes” and she handed me this giant bag.  everything was tied with a ribbon, so i had to pull everything out one by one.  first, it was mt 5th copy of reputation, then it was the reputation t shirt, and then it was another target magazine, and then... lyrics written on cards. i was already crying from the merch, but then... there was a little envelope at the end.  i opened it, and i started sobbing. i screamed so loud, because there in my hands, were two reputation tour tickets.  i kept screaming “i’m going to breath the same air as her?? be in the same stadium as her???”  

i got to work.  i had 5 months till tour, and i spent those five months counting down the days, fantasizing about costumes and the set list, watching that new romantics video but with more positive thoughts in mind.  i made me costume, i made me sign. i was ready for it.  

spoiler alert: i was NOT ready for it

my mom and i drove the 4 hours, listening to @taylorswift the whole way. funny story:  our car got broken into, so we stopped at my aunt and uncle’s house, and i thought it was literally the sweetest thing that when i walked in, they were playing shake it off in their kitchen.  for me. so that’s why the window is taped up. but we didn’t let it affect our concert, we shook it off.  

we got to the stadium, safe and sound.  my heart was pounding, i was shaking and breathing heavily when i got there. i had to throw my sign away, but i was good with it. 

i got my very own snake ring at the merch trucks, and a tour t shirt that is probably my most prized possesion.  again, words cannot describe how freaked out i was.  i was saying “you mean... taylor allison swift is less than a mile away from me right now???”  

i painted my nails to say “i heart ts” and i drew a 13 on my hand.  

my mom was sick but she still came to the concert with me, so we were getting an iced coffee for her.  but while we were in line... the lights turned off.  the stadium went black.  i screamed, my mom and i ran to our seats.  we stumbled through people rushing to their seats, but we made it.  i was sobbing. the iconic “BABY LET THE GAMES BEGIN”  began after the iconic opening video and by then i was hyperventilating.  @taylorswift came on and i was screaming and i kept saying to my mom “she’s right there!! taylor swift is right there!!!”  and i was a mess but i think i was the mess she wanted.  

my mom took a ton of pictures of me screaming the lyrics, i think this was during ready for it.  

idsb was probably my favorite part of the show.  i was shook and wigless from the vocal shows and the insane fireworks.  at this point i was screaming “THIS IS THE BEST PART MOM THIS IS THE BEST SONG”  

and then at the end of idsb she smiled that smile of hers and looked out at that endless ocean of crowd and i realized i was part of that endless ocean of crowd so i just kept screaming at the top of my lungs “I LOVE YOU TAYLOR”  and “I WOULD DIE FOR YOU”  

taylor did a speech before gorgeous and called me gorgeous and that really does a lot for your self esteem so

love story and style and you belong with me were amazing, the holy trinity honestly.  

she played look what you made me do and I SAW KARYN BUT I DIDN’T KNOW HER NAME YET and i was probably the only one singing the background vocals in end game and it felt a m a z i n g

she did her little delicate speech and i was like “PREACH GURL” because she started talking about her break and how feeling lonely is different than feeling alone and i really felt that ya’ know?  literally anything that comes out of her mouth is gold.  

and then this queen pulled the best day out of her little pocket full of sunshine and surprise songs from 2009??? and it was really emotional for me and my mom because that’s our song and we both were singing it together and hugging and i started crying again.  

SHE SANG BLANK SPACE AND I DID THE SANTA CLARA BACKGROUD VOCAL THING OFC AND I LOOK AT HER HITTING THAT HIGH NOTE I’M SO PROUD OF HER VOCAL SKILLS

also i witnessed @taylorswift take off her dress but it’s cool it’s chill nobody freaking out over there i was completely calm and composed you know how i feel about taylor swift, i just think she’s alright and everything she does is nothing special 

and then the bad blood and SHOULD’VE SAID NO mashup came on and i died and rose up from the dead to take this picture my mom was like “let’s take a picture”  and i was like “i’m too busy dancing”  but then i let her take a picture of me...

the humming.  the humming in don’t blame me.  could it be... my STAN SONG??? THE BEST SONG TAYLOR ALLISON SWIFT HAS EVER RELEASED?? HUH?? ALL THE VOCALS AND THE BRIDGE AND THE CHORUS AND EVERY SINGLE LYRIC MY HEART WAS POUNDING I WAS THE LOUDEST ONE IN THE STADIUM AND I DIED DEAD DONT BLAME MEEEEE

 also LONG LIVE AND NEW YEARS DAY um excuse me while i drown in my tears

POEMS WERE READ TEA WAS SPILLED and then i heard “no nothin good starts in a getaway car” and I  L O S T  I T

here i am in hysterics again, screaming “WE NEVER HAD A SHOTGUN SHOT IN THE DARK” 

(i’m skipping around bc i don’t have that many pictures)

the “oooOOOOooOOOOh” in WANEGBT started playing and once again, i lost my composure.  

in conclusion, it was the best night of my entire life.  and i’m serious about that.  i saw @taylorswift with my own eyes.  i saw her in real life, her hot glue gun scar and her hella good hair, and it was unforgettable.  i saw her play the album that i love so dearly.  she taught me lessons in that stadium, lessons about loneliness and love and disappearance.  no, i didn’t meet her in reproom.  obviously i wanted to (i would give anything to)  but it wasn’t about meeting her.  

it was about being with her.  being too busy dancing to get knocked off our feet with her.  in that stadium, i felt free of judgement and i was able to dance and sing and have the time of my life.  and for that, i want to thank @taylorswift.  for putting on a show that i’ll look back on and smile and possibly cry.  i want to thank the dancers and the band and the background singers for making it even better, and i want to thank the people who clean up the glitter after the party.  thank you @taylorswift.  ever since may 12th, i’ve been doin’ better than i ever was.

[tomorrowyoullbeworldsaway]

It’s another day where I wish I could write beautiful words. Aren’t I wasting my time doing anything else? I wish I could play guitar, I’ve never tried but I’ve always assumed I’d be bad at it. My friend says he’s glad he started learning because his life felt empty beforehand. I know he’s telling the truth because he told me how scared he was of doing nothing right before he started playing. We went to a concert that got him to play guitar and got me to start dressing goth again. I say again but maybe I’ve never looked like this before. I flash back to ninth grade outfits that I cut to squeeze and show my body far too sexually because if I was walking sex I wouldn’t have to be a person. Now my push up bras lie discarded in bottom drawers, too small for me now anyway. I tease my hair and I put in a binder (I need to stop getting ready in that order) and maybe what I am still isn’t a person. Maybe the hair covering my eyes really does serve as a blackout curtain to my soul but I’m more comfortable in my own skin now than before. Maybe what I really flash back to is fourth grade. Likely not my first time trying on makeup but the day I told my friend to try and give me goth makeup because I wanted to look like Winona Ryder did in beetlejuice. I think back to the cds I had when I was twelve that I played every night in order to fall asleep. My favorite songs from back than jumble together but I know I loved the smiths because sometimes I hear songs I never knew I’d heard and I know all the lyrics. And it’s funny that my fourth grade goth phase made me certain I would never have an emo phase until seventh grade hit and I realized my chemical romance was becoming my favorite band. Some days it feels easiest to look at my life trajectory through makeup styles. Blue eyeshadow turned black turned gold turned red. Pencil liners turned liquid and used in a million ways until I decided i liked eyeshadow better. When I think about writing I think about how I always fuck up essays because I never make a point I always just list facts and observations because they’re what I know is right. I think about what I’m writing now, how I’ve jumped from topic to topic and how none of it is worth shit but I suppose I don’t care what it’s worth to read because I liked writing it. I’m too scared to learn guitar now because all my friends are doing it and I don’t want to look scared to be left out (my biggest fear has always been to be left out) so I plan to learn it someday when I decide I’m unfulfilled in life. It scares me to think that I’ll never join a band but I guess it doesn’t matter because I don’t think I’ll ever be alone either. Sorry for only rambling, I suppose I still don’t owe this void I post to anything but I swear I’ll write more of a poem soon

[writtendoodles-blog]

The TBR tag

This account has been dormant for years. With life, stressing me out, I just need an outlet of some sort. I stumbled upon this tag from littlespider9′s YT channel, but the original creator links to this page: http://aperfectioncalledbooks.blogspot.co.uk/2014/08/tbr-tag.html

Here goes!

- How do you keep track of your TBR pile?

I have an excel spreadsheet I call, The Ultimate Reading Tracker.

 It has all sorts of tabs and tracking (i.e. tbr log of all books owned, books bought, books owned, reading challenges, reading log, etc.) I also log all my physically owned books in goodreads as part of my TBR shelf.

- Is your TBR mostly print or ebook?

I only really consider physical books as my TBR. For ebooks, it's mostly for convenience and/or budget restrictions.

- How do you determine which book from your TBR to read next?

I follow different challenges to keep the hunt for the next read exciting. This year, the challenges I've been working through are the following:

TFG Bingo (This is a random bingo card from a book club I belong to. They’ve curated reading challenges submitted by the members and combined them in the form of a bingo card. There is a group and an individual category. I went solo for this one! Current status is Blackout!)

Book Riot's Read Harder Challenge (I’ve been doing this yearly since I wanna say 2015? It’s pushed me to really go out and explore new things and genres.)

Around the Year in 52 Books (I’ve also done this last year, and I like the variety of categories it offers so I can maximize fitting by TBR into the challenges) 

PopSugar's Reading Challenge (I’ve been eyeing this challenges for some years now but never really officially included it on my goals for the year. I finally did this year although I won’t say it’s top priority. It’s fun to tick off challenges and helps when I’m at a lost on what to read next.)

- A book that's been on your TBR list the longest

Maria Montessori: Her Life and Work

- A book you recently added to your TBR

100 Tula ni Bela (100 Poems of Bela). This one is local poetry book by an actress from a movie I recently watched. This was an impulse buy and I’m scared to find out if I only wasted my money.

- A book in your TBR strictly because of its beautiful cover

I don't often buy books just because of the cover but the “Nick Joaquin” cover releases from Anvil of his short stories collection kinda fit the bill. Aren’t they pretty?!

- A Book on your TBR that you never plan on reading

Honestly, probably, the old Montessori book I got from my first job which also seems to be the longest that’s been on my TBR.

- An unpublished book on your TBR that you're excited for

Since I only have physical books in my TBR, there are no upcoming releases in there.

- A book on your TBR that basically everyone's read but you

I can’t say for sure. For the classics, probably “A Portrait of the Artist as a Young man.” For YA, “Simon and the Homosapiens agenda.” For Literary Fiction, “A Little Life.” And the list goes on...

- A book on your TBR that everyone recommends to you

History of Love by Nicole Krauss

- A book on your TBR that you're dying to read

Always always excited for a Haruki Murakami book. I haven't read all his books because I don't wanna ran out.

- How many books are on your Goodreads TBR shelf?

It's a crazy number… 1116! This includes books my sister owns as well that I haven’t read.

This has been fun! I might try doing tags from time to time. ;)

[xcandycorn]

Intro Toned body Can't atone with me Took the music when he left Lover of the stars Cared more about his cars Than my career Tossed my records in the dirt Drug my name through it too Now I'm running on empty I need to refuel Sat across from a man so doped up That he's starting to drool To make it through a world so cruel I'm gonna need to pull up a barstool Nothing left in my glass To keep my mind still I think it's time to refill Boom! Boom. Boom... Can't get onto that couch again Sat there while you poked around in my mind And I didn't even know it  Yeah, it helped back then  But there's more barriers now A terrain once easy to navigate  Is now a mine field  That's ready to blow Yeah, it's ready to blow Boom! What was I so worried about Why was I shaking Did I cry over a guy Boom. Stressed out over meaningless things Couldn't see the good things Life continuously brings  Boom... Feels pretty damn good To finally at least feel okay Even if it's just for part of the day Boom! Boom. Boom... Same pill, same time, same day Not how I want to live  Not that way No not today I'd say not tomorrow  But will tomorrow even come This is what I deal with Where's that thought even from  My life's not that bad But on any given day  I go from passive to sad In three seconds flat  Really, why's my brain Dropping bombs like that  Boom! What was I so worried about Why was I shaking Did I cry over a guy Boom. Stressed out over meaningless things Couldn't see the good things Life continuously brings  Boom... Feels pretty damn good To finally at least feel okay Even if it's just for part of the day Boom! Boom. Boom... Don't want your bottle of solutions  That'll only help until they don't  Or until I won't  Or my body just can't  When I take a nosedive  Into the dark recesses of my mind I need something to lift me up Raise me up high  Why blackout on the ground  When I can light up in the sky Boom! What was I so worried about Why was I shaking Did I cry over a guy Boom. Stressed out over meaningless things Couldn't see the good things Life continuously brings  Boom... Feels pretty damn good To finally at least feel okay Even if it's just for part of the day Boom! Boom. Boom... Big Girl Boots Lace me up (up, up, up) Prepare me Don't scare me Already shaking Beneath this stadium floor Gladiatorial tour Eyes on me Waiting for me to fall Or throw up my liver In the bathroom stall Torch those tennis shoes! Torch your opinions of me. You want to send me flowers? Torch your roses Torture to have your eyes on me I'm in my big girl boots I can handle chaos in large doses My big girl boo-oo boo-oo Boo-oo-oots My big girl boots! Will I bleed Will I scar Will I drink and drive Just to crash another car Everyone's waiting on me to relapse I will not give in I will not collapse These boots hold me up When the world pulls me down Torch those tennis shoes! Torch your opinions of me. You want to send me flowers? Torch your roses Torture to have your eyes on me I'm in my big girl boots I can handle chaos in large doses My big girl boo-oo boo-oo Boo-oo-oots My big girl boots! Pop girl here Came to rock and roll Rock and roll band here Singin the blues No genre limits Not on this road Only wear big boy shoes As they tap to the beat If you only came for one thing Better give up your seat Torch those tennis shoes! Torch your opinions of me. You want to send me flowers? Torch your roses Torture to have your eyes on me I'm in my big girl boots I can handle chaos in large doses My big girl boo-oo boo-oo Boo-oo-oots My big girl boots! Ricochet I am on the road I'm on the run  Engaged in an arms race But forgot my gun What a sickening sound The way you recoil  Should've kept that safety on You shot, you missed Bet you didn't know those were  Poisoned lips that you kissed  You've unleashed a crazy woman Unearthed a fearless warrior Took aim at a retched soul  Give it some time Your misfirings will take their toll  Ricochet-et-et Pulled the trigger But you won't hit me, No, not today-ay-ay Each time you shoot at me That bullet's coming back to you  Ricochet-et-et Ricochet.  Don't even think about Raiding this caravan  I'm a caring woman  But I still have eyes on my back  Friends watch my six Armed with stones and sticks  I know what makes you tick I am the arms of the clock  I'll decide when Enough is enough  And when the end Of this war has come  Ricochet-et-et Pulled the trigger But you won't hit me, No, not today-ay-ay Every time you shoot at me That bullet's coming back to you  Ricochet-et-et Ricochet.  Bullets bouncing everywhere  Did you really think that I would not hear About the guns you played with  When I wasn't looking?  Caught a whiff of the lies You always seem to be cooking.  Don't hurt yourself trying to reload, It'll all be in vain. My rhyming ass already hit the road,  Ears ready to hear you cry out in pain.  Ricochet-et-et Pulled the trigger But you won't hit me, No, not today-ay-ay Every time you shoot at me That bullet's coming back to you  Ricochet-et-et Ricochet.  It Hurts If I ain't screamin I ain't happy Don't need roses Poems are sappy Step back, step off Why don't you jerk off If you ain't hard enough To hurt me. If this ice cream Is labeled vanilla You can keep it, That shit ain't for me. I demand some with a kick, A slap or a hit. Make me say ay, papi Till my head game is sloppy Won't let nothing stop me Or you. Can't wait to put you on... lock And all I want is your... cock Ohhhhhhhh If your loving ain't... pain, Then I don't want it. Boys make it... rain, I need a man to make it storm Until my clothes are... torn And my body is... worn Ohhhhh fuck It Hurts, your lovin', It Hurts Hurt Me! Be the needle in my arm Come on and cause me harm As I come down from the high Won't you be my paul bearing guy  Fantasize about how my blood might taste Does that make me a vampire  Or masochistic waste  With the devil's arms Wrapped around my waist  Let me sink into this bed Come on, watch me drown  Life keeps slipping away  Cuz' I'm going down  Down, Down to where I belong  Dancing to Satan's song  Not expected to care  Not told to be strong  Yeah, I'm going down  I don't want to be your one and done cure I want to be your everyday drug Loving shouldn't be this pure Make this dirty Begging you to hurt me! Hurt me! Hurt me! Ohhhhhhhh Just don't desert me Hurt me! Hurt me! Fucking hurt me Be the liquor in my bottle Inebriate my ability to handle the throttle As my liver dies inside my body Will you wish to be the one to stop me Curious about the liquid on your lips I gave up the bottle But your lips I can't quit If I drink off them Do I still get my chip Sure I'm still sober This was just a slip Into the dark I go Where the shadows become one With those whose form they steal Into the dark I go Where the devil forged my name on his deal I don't want to be your one and done cure I want to be your everyday drug Loving shouldn't be this pure Make this dirty Begging you to hurt me! Hurt me! Hurt me! Ohhhhhhhh Just don't desert me Hurt me! Hurt me! Fucking hurt me Na-na-na-narcan in my system You you you weren't supposed to save me You were supposed to dig my grave Pump vitamins and fluids into my veins You you you were supposed to let me die Not be the hero I Never needed Never wanted Never even asked for I am evil's whore Flirting with darkness and death High on the flames Produced by Hades' lungs Funeral song has been sung I don't want to be your one and done cure I want to be your everyday drug Loving shouldn't be this pure Make this dirty Begging you to hurt me! Hurt me! Hurt me! Ohhhhhhhh Just don't desert me Hurt me! Hurt me! Fucking hurt me! Daddy Hose me down, I'm a naughty girl Make my day, pull the trigger daddy Haven't known you Since before mommy had me You hate how I turned out Should've tried to raise me After you left The world learned to praise me Jealous of the light You tried to trap me in the dirt I earned that name The first night I lifted up my skirt I'm not your Daddy's Daddy's Daddy's Girl Not the center of his whole world I'm not your Daddy's Daddy's Daddy's Girl But I'm scared I might be him one day Call me Daddy, boy Spank me, I'm a very bad girl Take away my pain, light me up daddy This bullet in my chest would've killed If you'd given me a heart Took it with you when you left You shot a hollow doll Not quite porcelain I didn't shatter Still you shed your own blood Acted like it didn't even matter I'm not your Daddy's Daddy's Daddy's Girl Not the center of his whole world I'm not your Daddy's Daddy's Daddy's Girl But I'm scared I might be him one day Call me Daddy, boy Only daddy-daughter dates Were at the end of a gun Passed this on down Yeah, do you remember your son Runaway daddy drove my brother insane Broke him down, he lived to cause me pain Took after Mommy You like how I fight back Take joy as your sight Fades to eternal black I'm not your Daddy's Daddy's Daddy's Girl Not the center of his whole world I'm not your Daddy's Daddy's Daddy's Girl But I'm scared I might be him one day Call me Daddy, boy Runaway Man Wish you had left me for dead At least that would mean We made it till death do us part  Burn me at the stake  For crimes against man Don't give me a break Break my heart  Turn into the marathon man Got miles to go  Until I can't reach you  Tried so hard to teach you I'm not the woman you leave  Throw it in reverse Got tread marks leading to you  With my money in your backseat Gotta know I'm gunnin' for ya Runaway Man, doin things Only runaways can  Runaway Man No sense of responsibility  Would've hurt less  If you just killed me  Left me with no booze  In the bottle  Now my hand's on the throttle Eyes see clearly what's ahead  What looks like a man Will soon be dead I'll make roadkill Out of all that flesh If I put your body in my trunk Does that make this a muscle car Or a hearse?  Throw it in reverse Got tread marks leading to you  With my money in your backseat Gotta know I'm gunnin' for ya Runaway Man, doin things Only runaways can  Runaway Man Dropping you off Where the highway don't go  Where your body lands No one will know  Peacefulness left in my rear view  In pieces is how I'll leave you  Will you decay  Become one with the dirt road  Will you burn  Become the ashes in my throat Either way you'll never run again  Driving you to a dead end  Throw it in reverse Got tread marks leading to you  With my money in your backseat Gotta know I'm gunnin' for ya Runaway Man, doin things Only runaways can  Runaway Man

[alittledangerx]

.

Hex Girls: Part 3

"Don't be afraid of the dark, the dark is nothing to fear."

The girl seemed shy and scared at best but Aaron decided to ignore that and move in to grasp her hand with a warm smile. Her red lipstick stretched with her lips. Widening her hues slightly as she felt the change in temperature. She pulled it off cool with a flip of her hair from her free hand. The blonde pushed herself up from the mossy ground. Aaron swallowed, "Your family?" She questioned peeking at the head stone behind her. It read Norris than she turned her head toward the one across from them. Which read Gilbert, she c*cked her eyebrow twisting around to look at Elena. "Elena....Norris, no no you even LOOK like a Gilbert." Aaron stumbled over her words. Realizing what she had just done. Over looked the pain of her family's death in order to make a joke. 

Aaron politely apologized, leaning against the angel sculpture. The blonde managed to pull a small smile upon her plum red lips. "How did they die?" Her hand pointed toward the Gilbert grave. "You don't have to tell me. I just ask because I lost my parents too." Aaron bit her lower lip almost hard enough to bring blood. "They left us, all alone." She mumbled. "I don't miss my dad much." She continued pressing her lips firmly together wiggling her lips attempting to keep the burning from her eyes, the tears to fall. She refused it. "My mom is a different story." It almost began to feel hot in the area that Aaron was standing. "...not this." She mumbled, another blackout.....

The smell of burnt hair nothing Aaron ever liked, and fabric, leather was even worse. The blonde's eyes opened to the heat the orange flames. "Momma!" Her voice cracked calling for the woman. "Mom." She coughed her lungs filling with smoke yet again. It was like a nightmare, it still was. Burned into her mind. Aaron's weak frame stood up from the bed grabbing the door handle. She quickly jumped back rubbing her now red hot hand. The blonde raced to the window, trying to unlatch it. She noticed someone watching the fire. Aaron's hair stood up on the back of her neck. "Dear god, what is happening?" Her tiny fingers fiddled with the latch until she noticed the floor beginning to burn in her room Aaron grabbed the lamp that had set on her night stand since she turned 13 slamming it into the window. The glass flying everywhere. Aaron knocked what she could out with the lamp shade. Slowly slide out onto the roof of the house. Her eyes began to shut, her lungs felt like sand paper. "Mommy." She whispered as her eyes fell closed, passing out from the smoke and heat. 

"And when I woke up all these really hot firemen were all around me. I was in the grass and well my parents were all burned up, gone, dead...poof. It was like they never existed, actually it was like I didn't either. Course all my stuff burned up and my house back in Tennessee was empty since we were in the process of moving to New Orleans." Aaron went on, slowly twirling a piece of her short blonde hair. The black blended nicely with her golden locks almost as if they represented her singed hair, or the black spots inside her soul. Even her mind had blackness, holes where she couldn't remember things or just things she blocked out. Aaron Blackburn was a mystery, not just to others but to herself. "Yeah I used to have longggggg long long hair like down to my ass but it got burnt so I'm stuck with this....nightmare, although I kinda like it. What do you think?" Aaron done a little spin with a laugh stopping on her flat feet she felt like a fairy with her hair cut, just like Tinkerbell. 

Aaron wasn't actually sure why but she felt compelled to tell this girl her story, her life, the ups and downs she had faced since her parents kicked the bucket. She went on about her uncle Eric and the mental ward. She left out everything involving Damon and Kai for some reason she felt like it would of been a bad idea. The blonde smiled a real smile for the very first time in a while as she tilted her head toward the book in the brunette's hand. "Are you a writer?" Aaron's crimson lips slipped into a half grin. "I write a little too...mostly lyrics or poems." She explained. A creek from the gate nearly made Aaron jump out of her skin. She took a deep breath. "You-whooooo Aaron." A male's voice called. 

The blonde groaned, "I have to go but you'll be here tomorrow right? I've got something to give you." She grinned dashing off toward the sound of a familiar voice,...not just one too Aaron but to Elena. "Where's my piece of pie girly?" Kai's lips curled up to see his white teeth as he laughed. Aaron huffed, twisting past him and the iron gate. His hand grasped the back of her shirt. "Did you get any new information for me today?" She swatted at his hand, "Noooo...have you figured out the spell to bring my mother back?" He just smiled that sick psychopathic smile. Aaron shook her head with a roll of her eyes.

Kai walked Aaron home - well to her new home inside the Salvatore's boarding house. Kai Parker was a horrible person, but Aaron attempted to look past it...As she did for the male on the steps with his arms folded annoyingly toward the couple. Kai brushed his fingers over her cheek gave her wink and he was gone. "You always hang around with such sh*tty people?" Aaron rolled her eyes "sourvamp." The blonde inhaled making her way up the steps, Damon grabbed her arm. "I mean it Aaron the dude is bad news." She nodded. "Okay. Can I go now daddy?" She teased he let her go, but not before giving her one of his constipated looking faces. Damon always looked horrible when he was mad. Aaron avoided him, and went straight to her room. 

The room Damon provided for her was small but big enough for a girl her age. The blonde plopped down on her bed, reaching under the mattress for her journal. Stefan had so kindly given to her. She flipped the page to a blank one slipping the pen from the slot in the spine of the book. She began to write:

"I don't even really know who I can trust anymore. I know Damon has his own motives for keeping me around, but so does Kai. So where do I really belong? It's like I'm lost in a corn maze endlessly looking for a way out. Which in this game the only way out is death, and I've already tried that....once." Aaron bit her pen chewing on the cap a little. "I met this girl she seems a lot like me, actually. Has no family hangs out in graveyards...sounds alot like me actually." Aaron smirked,"she's pretty too, I just have this funny feeling when she touched me. Like she wasn't really there but she was I touched her. I guess things aren't always what they same. Huh?" 

The blonde shut the book tucking it under her mattress. Stripping off each piece of clothing until she was in just pink panties, she snatched the men's T-shirt hanging from the bed's headboard and slipped that over her head. Resting her head into the pillow she fell into a deep slumber. 

Aaron didn't go back to the graveyard until late the next night. The fog had already begun to make the creepy area more spooky than it had been the previous night. "Elena?!" Aaron shouted slipping through the iron gate. A couple of corpse peeked their decaying heads out from their resting place. "Go back to sleep guys." Aaron mumbled walking past them invitation in hand for Aaron's graduation party. "Elena!" The blonde walked toward the Gilbert grave but she was no where to be found. The blonde sighed, resting her hand on top of the gravestone......She seriously wish she hadn't. Elena had died, almost. But her parents drowned Aaron saw it all. "Two girls, fire and water. How ironic."

  "What is in the darkness is a completely different story."