MrsWednesday13

I don't know how to feel anymore Took this pill and as it dissolved I felt myself slipping away Like sand falling through my fingers I didn't want to linger Your smile is all that I can bear But now I know there's nothing there No you, no us, nothing ever again This little monster born of swirling emotions Was killed in cold blood by you It was doomed to die from birth Its home vanished the moment it died This little monster you helped make Is the love I harbored for you Its home that disappeared so quickly Is my glass heart you broke I never wanted this to end But the pain was too much And as I slip away from now Into the deep, dark unknown

Roses are red, violets are blue I have been waiting for you Dirt is brown, bones are white Don't tell me what's wrong, I'm coming for you tonight Hurt has turned to hate and no tears will fall I'll never discriminate, I just hate you all

The camera was set to record and Eric sat down at his computer in front of it. It was currently 5:30 in the morning on January 17, 2013. His hair was still spiked, his makeup smudged but still visible against his skin, even paler than normal in the dim light of the screen. He took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. "It's been a while since we spoke, hasn't it? If you ever thought about me after I left your house, I want you to know that I'm doing much better now. You changed my life the moment you came over and asked if I was okay. And," he paused and looked away, wiping at the inner corner of his eyes. It took the guitarist a few moments to

Wednesday looked up at the starless night sky. "What the fuck just happened?" Troy remained in thoughtful silence for a few minutes before finally voicing his answer. "Calm down, brother. Your thoughts are slowly darkening from clear to dark gray. As for what happened, I'm guessing we won." "I still don't understand what you mean by my thoughts having colors. But I hope you're right about us winning. Now c'mon, let's hurry back to the factory. Ro-mon, Jack and Shakes are waiting for us." The frontman carefully made his descent from the grassy hill, Troy right beside him. Nothing remained of the zombies who attacked mere minutes ago, not ev

Inside the house, Roman stood back to back with Shakes, holding an SK-47 rifle at the ready while the drummer simply gripped two black 9mm handguns. Where the guitarist found the rifle, he wouldn't say and maybe it was for the best. Jack stood against the only wall without windows holding a camera which he looked through. It was a video camera and it was in recording the two men before him in night vision mode, since it was pitch outside and the power had been out for a few days. Roman took a deep breath and blew it out slowly to steady himself and looked at Jack with a serious expression. "You okay, Jack?" "Yeah, a little. It stopped bleed

Roman came out of the studio with a mischievous grin plastered on his face. His white apron was, for the most part, clean yet the rest of his clothes and his skin were splattered in yellow, red, black, and white paint. Immediately, I facepalmed and sighed. He was the most difficult person to deal with sometimes. Upon seeing my reaction, he burst out into a purely evil laughter. I swore he was the spawn of Satan himself. "You should see the look on your FACE!!" Not even twenty seconds and he was already hysterical. I just shook my head and left him to guffaw.