HonestHero

The song he sent me plays in my ear. I turn it up until I can’t hear anything else, and as the melody plays, all I want to do is run away with him. It’s simple as that. I want to take his hand in mine and climb into my old car—the one that’s always smelled a bit funny—and go. We can just drive into the sunset. He’ll smile the way he does, just a little crooked, and entirely perfect. His colourful eyes will twinkle, and he will laugh. He will tell me he loves me, the way he does every day—but this time he will mean more than friends. I’ll smile too, but not with the sad hint that I always do. I&r

She doesn’t care. The sky is black and blue, the colours of the bruises she sees on her friends bodies every day. She walks down the street, knowing she is safe, and that she has a good life. She knows she shouldn’t complain, and so she doesn’t. The pale moon and yellow street lamps make her skin look even more pallid than it already is. She runs her fingers along her protruding ribs, tracing every defined bone. She stopped eating for a while. For some reason she thought it would be fun; she didn’t really want to be so thin. It was like a game to her. But now she is weak and as she walks sometimes her vision fades if

She lay slumped against the brick building, her legs jutting out into the filthy, crowded sidewalk. Her hair hung in stringy clumps onto her unwashed shoulders. She smelled like someone who maybe had never experienced a shower. Her clothes were ripped, exposing her tight, pale-green skin which clutched at her protruding bones. The setting sun on the city's horizon provided just enough light to illuminate her--to show her eyes which bored enough sorrow and pain could be clearly seen at just a glance. The streetlights flickered on, casting a sickly yellow glow to her already unhealthy skin. She knew from her shallow breathing that she was soon

The moon dripped red with the blood of the fallen across the glittering, white earth. Her breath left silvery puffs in the crisp midnight air. She backed up, horrified, watching the snow melt under the drops of blood which fell from the sky. The trickle turned to rain, and she turned and ran. Bare feet crunching through the thin layer of ice coating the snow, she sprinted away, but not fast enough. Warm, sticky droplets splattered across her back and the top of her head. The trees thickened into a forest around her—ashen black things which twisted from the hard ground. She choked back a sob as she wove in between them. The blood rain po