|
Post by rayn on Jan 10, 2009 22:40:35 GMT -6
I've got the gift of one liners and you've got the curse of curves and with this gift i compose words
The ride to her first day of school could have went much better. Her foster mother Leila jerked her out of bed at five thirty. The thing was school started at seven and Pixie had stayed up a little late thanks to another case of insomnia and bad dreams. She sat in the backseat of the small black car with her feet pulled to her chest. the seatbelt too big on her small body. Her head was pressed against the glass as she looked out the window. It was dreary here. It reminded her of her one trip to London. All the rain. It had reduced from that of a thick downpour to a soft mist. She was content as she could be. Leila and Mark argued in the front. She tried to ignore him, but her name kept coming from each of their mouths. She frowned. She thought America was supposed to give her a better life and a better sense of security, all she had right now was a midnight encounter with Mark pushing her down the stairs and being locked out on the front porch in the freezing rain. That wasn't what she had been expecting.
She tugged at a strand of her hair and frowned. This was not fun at all. She wanted to be back in France. Kids were scattered about the parking lot of the school. She was old enough to have her license, but she didn't really see the point, all things considered. She took a deep breath as she unbuckled the seatbelt. Mark and Leila stopped arguing for long enough to hand her some papers that had been signed by different medical and psychological doctors and things of the sort. A frown was permanently imprinted on her face. She stepped out of the car and placed a foot on the damp ground. Her green eyes scanned the place. Stares bored into her. She slammed the door shut, her messenger bag hung lightly on her shoulder as she began to walk toward the large and looming building. It was inevitable that something bad was going to happen to her today. When pixie was around it was a given.
The woman in the front office looked mean, as she handed her a piece of paper and shooed her off to class. Her first period was complete hell, and by the time lunch rolled around she was ready to be gone from this place. She pushed open the glass double doors in the main hall and made her way out into the humid air that was outside. Spring. It was supposed to be colorful and pretty and warm. Forks was that. It's main color scheme. Green. There was green everywhere. She frowned in distaste and made her way to one of the tables that was set outside. She slid onto the cold stone bench and placed her binder on top. She was trying to make sense of this stuff her English teacher was trying to tell her. She knew English. It was second nature to her. She was as good in it as she was in French and Latin. The thing was she wasn't in school a lot. She hadn't been in school for a few years actually. Four to be exact. She had missed almost all her highshool. This was new and scary for her. She tugged at a strand of her soft blonde hair and bit on her lip as she tapped her pen on the table. She did this to keep her burning eyes from dropping tears.
words; 639 tags; Damion outfit; click
|
|
|
Post by tabula on Jan 10, 2009 23:09:58 GMT -6
Damion sat on a tree branch, watching the tortured girl from her window as she slept. It was about five thiry-ish, and note once had this child stirred, for the few hours she had been asleep. It was rather intriguing to him, but then again, he was easily amused. Her heartbeats were slowed, and her breaths came out as sighes. Bang! The door hit the wall, and that stupid little lady, who was in charge of his spoil, was bashing throguh the room, screaming, and pulling on the girl. "It's freakin' five in the morning! What is that moronic psychopath thinking!"
Damion decided for, what he would like to say, the girl's benefit, he was going to follow her. Nothing was going to hurt her because that was his job, right? Following the car was easy. Sneaking through the high school was a breeze. In fact, during the course of the day, Damion picked out his next three meals. All of them deserved to die. Shamelessly flirting with the cuties, that indeed was fun. However, Damion never lost sight of his prize.
He followed her outside. He wasn't more than twenty-five yards away. Damion sat down beside her, hearing her nearly silent whimpers. She was crying. Damion laced an arm around her shoulder and sat beside her. "Princesses shouldn't cry on the first day in their new kingdom," he said, no hint of irony in his voice whatsoever. "It can't all be that bad. I mean, have you even noticed how many guys have stared at you today? think positively, at least, you have fan boys!"
|
|
|
Post by rayn on Jan 10, 2009 23:26:53 GMT -6
I've got the gift of one liners and you've got the curse of curves and with this gift i compose words
Pixie chewed on her lip almost to the point of bleeding. Her breathing began to picken up. The wind blew across the table and her hair clung to her lashes as it got caught on her eyes. She looked down at the paper again. She couldn't understand any of this. She didn't know how to do the paper. Her foot tapped in a nervous rythm and she bit down on her lip as a stray tear slipped down her cheek. She hurriedly wiped it away but more fell and the taste of copper filled her mouth as the blood began to fall in thick droplets from her bitten lip. She glanced around to make sure no one was out here to see her in this frame of state. How embarassing would that be? For someone at your new school to find you sobbing and bleeding over something as stupid as English homework.
She nearly jumped five feet back when a cold arm rested around her shoulders. The boy's words soon filled her ears. She glanced up at him with tear and makeup laced eyes. Her lip still was dripping with blood. She ran her tongue over it getting off the excess and then looked down at her paper so that she could hide her pale face that was now streaked with eyeliner and mascara smudges. The cold that was radiating off the boy made her shiver. She wrapped one arm around herself and used the other to continue tapping the pencil upon the paper. She didn't speak, but when did she ever. Even though she had just bit it open she once more began chewing on her lip, nervously. She didn't know what to do. She didn't get up. She didn't move, and she could barely breathe. This boy probably thought she was nuts.
A faint pink blush hinted on her cheeks when he talkd about having fan boys. She tilted her head. No one was looking at her. No one wanted someone as broken and scattered as she was. She glanced to the side with a frown. Her hair fell across her cheek hiding her face from view. The bell rang, but still she didn't move. She was held there by something in her mind. She felt that even if she could move she didn't want to. Her curiousit was getting the better of her. Gravity pulling her towards the boy beside her. Something. The mystery of it all maybe? made her stay. She glanced down at the paper again once more her mind trying to process the words. She tapped her pencil nervously and stared at it. The sense of defeat filling her and making her feel stupid. The feelings caused a few stray tears to slip down her cheeks once more. She tried to hide them from view. She already felt like an idiot for being caught like this.
words; 491 tags; Damion outfit; click
|
|
|
Post by tabula on Jan 10, 2009 23:41:52 GMT -6
Blood. Simply the word made any vampire go nuts. It was gently rolling down the girl's lip. Damion tensed in restraint. Quickly he took his bandana off, pressing it against her lip. "Could you seriously not do that, dear?" Damion gritted his teeth forcing himself not to breath her in. "I'm.. afraid of blood, a hemophobic. Please, don't do that," he grimanced. Then, Damion spotted the tears again. "Or that," he sighed, still holding the bandana to her lip. Damion used other hand to wip away the tears. "Darling, I hope I'm not that frightening. I know I probably look like death in a bottle, but honestly, the book's cover is deceiving." Damion's eyes were darkening quickly. He was going to need a refresher meal after this was all said and done.
|
|
|
Post by rayn on Jan 10, 2009 23:54:36 GMT -6
I've got the gift of one liners and you've got the curse of curves and with this gift i compose words
She looked up with wide eyes when she heard his words. Now she felt horrible. The boy pressed his bandana to her lips and then wiped away her tears. The boy tensed beside her. She could feel the sudden stifness of his body. She stifled her tears. She gave him an apologetic look and hurriedly picked up her books. She gently pushed the bandana away. She felt horrible about freaking the boy out because she had bit down on her own stupid freakin lip and bit it open causing it to bleed. She shook her head and wondered if she could ever do anything right. She picked her stuff up in her arms and got up. She didn't want to go back in school and her only other choice was to leave. What did she care she was already in heaps of trouble anyways. So instead of going back in the hell hole she made her way down the sidewalk of the school and into a path in the forest.
It was quiet in here. She mentally hit herself for being so stupid. She sat down in the middle of the path and tugged at her hair. No one was out on this running path at this time of day. They were either at work or in school. She pulled her lighter out of her pocket and flicked it on causing the flame to flicker out of it. She smiled at the familiar heat that radiated off of it. She held a leaf in her other hand and put it on the flame. She let the fire burn it for a minute before watching the ashes fall to the damp earth. The light danced in her eyes as she smiled softly.
She not only felt bad about bleeding when the boy was scared of blood, but leaving him sitting all alone. She was so confused. She threw the lighter into the bushes. Somewhere deep. She didn't want to hurt herself right now. She tugged harder on a strand. Her scalp was sore from all the tugs on it. She pulled her hood over her head and frowned. She leaned back on the damp leaves and then turned her small body on it's side and closed her eyes. Maybe everyone would forget about her and she could hide in these leaves forever until she just stopped breathing and she went to hell. She sighed she knew that wasn't going to happen. Her breathing became slow as she thought about some things. Especially that weird boy and his blood red eyes.
tags; Damion outfit; click
|
|
|
Post by tabula on Jan 11, 2009 0:20:17 GMT -6
Dsmion hissed once the girl was out of his sight. He flipped the table over. "She can't get to far, now, can she?" Damion's voice cracked with madness as he trailed the girl. no one escaped Damion when he was like this. Blood awakened it, and blood would finish it. Then, he had her in his arms, pulling her into the woods. The moist ground left his bare foot print as he stole her. "You aren't getting away, my princess," he hissed in her ear. "No more tears, kay?" Damion averted his attention to her neck. He disguised his attempts to find a useful vein with kisses. His tongue ran across her skin. This would be over soon.
|
|
|
Post by rayn on Jan 11, 2009 0:33:44 GMT -6
I've got the gift of one liners and you've got the curse of curves and with this gift i compose words
Pixie settled her small body into the earth comepletely at ease. She thought she was alright for now. Her mind wandering to many places. Her home. Her life before here. She wondered what it would be like if she died right now. She sighed and let her breathing slow to almost the point of not being there at all. Her heart rate a soft thump-thump, thump-thump. She sighed and was soon being picked up. She tried to move out of the grip that was holding tight to her and was dragging her through the woods. She looked up at him. Even though he asked for no more tears they still came. Her stomach clenched in fear of this boy.
He was soon placing kisses along her neck. She cringed away, horrid memories filled her head. She wanted to scream but she couldn't manage to choke out the sound. Her dry throat was clamped shut. Memories played over and over in her head, like a video tape set on fast foward. She kicked and tears streamed down her face. She gripped tightly to his shirt and looked up at him with pleading eyes. Why did she deserve this? She had asked herself that question over and over again, yet she never seemed to have an answer and this time was definately no different. Her small body was encased in his arms. It was no use fighting she would lose anyways.
Her fear was threatening to break. Her voice came out tentative and stuttered. She knew he probably hadn't heard it. To a normal person it would have went unheard, but the boy holding her here was not human. He was far from it. What she didn't know was that his animal instincts were soon to bring her to a path of pain and destruction. Soon to kill her and take her closer to hell, that place of fire. The one place that would accept her with open arms. The memory of the football player once more flashed in her mind, so she wasn't thinking about death at the moment, that's not what forced her to ask the question running through her mind. That's not what made her break her silence of three years. If it was she would have greeted it with open arms but no, she was thinking about an incident that had completely stripped her of everything. So the words formed on her lips, but didn't exactly come out and she went limp in defeat after she said them because she was sure he hadn't heard them. "s'il vous plaît ... Qu'ai-je fait pour vous?"
translation; Please... What did I do to you? tags; Damion outfit; click
|
|
|
Post by tabula on Jan 11, 2009 1:07:43 GMT -6
Damion smirked at her words as he licked along a perticularly interesting vein. "Mon cher, votre sang appelle à moi. I' ; le VE vous observant, et mes intentions originales étaient juste au fllow vous et vous maintiennent heureux. Mais, ma volonté est faible. J'ai besoin de votre sang. Don' ; t ait peur, peu de poupée, mon petit lutin. I' ; essai de ll pour ne pas vous tuer," he whispered in her skin. Hids hand laced her hair behind her ear, giving him more access. Gently, he wiped away a tear from her cheek. "Je t'ai dit I didn' ; t veulent désormais de vos larmes." Slowly, as he gazed into her eyes, he felt the blood lust slowly fade away. With his power, he made her fall into his arms, so that he could craddle her. "En raison de vos larmes, I don' ; t veulent blesser vous plus, mais I' ; m ne vous laissant pas partir à la maison non plus. Vous restez avec moi dorénavant. Comprenez? " Damion tightened his grip around her. "I' ; le ll vous prennent à partir de Leila et le marquent. Ils ne sont pas dignes de votre présence, princesse," he whispered once more into her ear.
Translation: My dear, your blood calls to me. I've been watching you, and my original intentions were just to follow you and keep you happy. But, my will is weak. I need your blood. Don't be afraid, little doll, my little pixie. I'll try not to kill you.
I told you I didn't want anymore of your tears.
Because of your tears, I don't want to hurt you anymore, but I'm not letting you go home either. You are staying with me from now on. Understand?
I'll take you away from Leila and Mark. They are not worthy of your presence, princess.
|
|
|
Post by rayn on Jan 11, 2009 8:52:52 GMT -6
I've got the gift of one liners and you've got the curse of curves and with this gift i compose words
Tears fell of their own accord. She couldn't stop them as they trailed gently down her cheeks. The boy's words penetrated her thoughts. She drew away from him, hiding in the back of her mind. She looked up at him with fear filled and water downed eyes. This boy was something the nanny used to tell her to keep her up at night. How the monsters would sit and watch their prey before attacking. Her body began to shake. He told her no more tears, but she couldn't help it. They came of their own accord. Her lips trembled and her hands shook with tremors. He confused her. He wanted her blood and now her tears made him not want to harm her. She didn't understand.
She wondered why this boy would care so much about where she lived. Her mind was spinning she didn't even know how he knew her name. Her body soon felt detached as she fell weak. Like something was keeping her from moving. She was being cradled in the boy's arms. His words of Mark and Leila made her look up in confusion. How did he know all of this. How did he know so much about her. She felt like she couldn't breathe. Her chest barely moved with her breaths. Then it registered that he had obviously heard her and that he could speak French. Her lips trembled as she tried to speak again. Her tongue danced behind her lips as she tried to shove the words out. "W-w-who ar-r-e y-y-you?" She asked in not even a whisper. It was softer than that. Quiet. It came out stuttered and broken. Her hand was almost hurting from wanting to lift up and tug at her hair, but she couldn't move. So she just looked up at him.
Her expression was that of confusion. She didn't know what to do. She didn't know if she trusted this person. The last time she had tried to trust someone who said they would take her away she almost drowned in a river. She cringed at the memory, and then someone pulled her out, but then they ran off. She had ran, only to be taken in by the police and sent to the hospital. She didn't know what to do. The voices in her head argued. They were loud and obnoxious. She frowned. She wanted to rip her hair out that's how annoying they were. The soft hum in the back of her head that they usually were was now a roar in her ears. She bit on her lip in annoyance and then looked up at the boy waiting for his answer.
translation; tags; Damion outfit; click
|
|
|
Post by tabula on Jan 11, 2009 9:07:26 GMT -6
Slowly, Damion ran his hand up and down her back in a soothing motion. "Little Pixie, you'll find out in time," he whispered. He didn't want to freak her out, for she had enoughto register as it was. Damion was just glad that she was his. It didn't matter what she said. "Why did you cut your hair, dear? When I saw you in France it was longer," Damion asked, hinting at his stalking. His cool breath ran across her warm skin. To him, she was rather hot, in more ways than one.
|
|
|
Post by rayn on Jan 11, 2009 9:41:41 GMT -6
I've got the gift of one liners and you've got the curse of curves and with this gift i compose words
She frowned when the boy didn't answer her question. She hadn't expected him to. The boy's cold hands ran up her back. She shivered from the cold touch and then looked up with wide eyes. She didn't know how he knew all this. She was so confused. She shook her head. She hadn't cut her hair. Okay well technically she had. They had made her but still. "Je ne savais pas." Her words seemed to come out smoother when she talked in French, but she was still scared so she was nervously switching bettween the two languages. "M-m-m-mark and L-l-leila did." When she first got here they had stood over her and watched as they made her cut off her long blonde hair. She had sobbed as she took the scissors to the strands. Once they were gone she had evened it out and made it this. It was shoulder length now, compared to what it was. See, when she was at Insomnia they had tried to make her cut it but she had gotten out of that one. Mark and Leila had threatened her with chopping it all off if she didn't cut it herself.
She wanted to know how he knew all this. She wanted to know why he was here. He had been in France. She couldn't place his face. She would have remembered him she was sure of it. She looked up at him with a frown and a furrowed brow. Her tears had ceased for the time being. She couldn't keep her eyes up long enough to get a good look at him. She knew his blood red eyes were looking down upon her though. Maybe she was dreaming. She sure hoped so. This wasn't something that she wanted to add to the chapter book of her life. She didn't mind the boy, it was the fact that he had tried and admitted to trying to kill her. She was so scared and didn't know what to do. She shook heavily. She didn't know what to do. She wanted to leave but she knew that wasn't happening anytime soon.
She racked her brain for any image of him in her memories. There wasn't any. He wasn't there she couldn't remember him, but he obviously knew her. She shook her head and her bangs fell in her eyes. She managed to reach a hand up and laced her fingers in her hair. She tugged on it as she thought. 'pix, you're just an idiot.' one of the voices snapped. She tugged harder. 'pix pay attention you're stupid, you're messed up, and you're crazy!' the voice screamed again. She pulled harder. She closed her eyes and blocked the voice out. She looked back up at the boy. Her mind still trying to piece everything together.
translation; I didn't. tags; Damion outfit; click
|
|
|
Post by tabula on Jan 11, 2009 9:51:52 GMT -6
Damion laughed lightly in her ear. "Well, you won't have to worry about them again, will you?" He controlled her body once more, moving her head to his chest, where his heart would be. "Princess, you don't have to go to school anymore. In fact, street smarts and me will be the only things you'll need." Damion stood up, holding her bridal style. "Let me be your night in shining armor," Damion whispered, pecking lightly at her neck once more.
|
|
|
Post by rayn on Jan 11, 2009 10:18:30 GMT -6
I've got the gift of one liners and you've got the curse of curves and with this gift i compose words
Pixie's body soon moved on it's own accord again. Her head was now placed agianst his chest. The heart beat that should have been softly thrumming through his chest and beating in her ear wasn't there. She jerked back and looked up at him. He picked her up in his arms and began pecking at her neck. Her small fist wrapped around a handful of his shirt. His words filled her ears. "Dites-moi ce que vous êtes. " She whispered. "Dites-moi comment tu me connais. " She begged. She wanted to know the whole story. She looked up at him and her breathing pickened up in fear once more.
Her hand tugged at her hair. The voices screamed in her ears. She was confused as hell. Her mind was spinning. She wanted to go sleep it off. She wanted to think about it some place quiet where she could think about all this. Think about how this boy had all of a sudden shone up and now wanted to be her knight. She didn't get it. She didn't know if she should trust him or not. She bit at her lip hoping not to make it bleed again. Yeah when she said that it did. It wasn't as bad though. It was just a slight streak across her lip. She quickly ran her tongue across her lip wiping it away. She looked up at him with apologetic eyes.
Her eyes stung with tears again at the thought of her own stupidity. It trickled softly down her cheek. She didn't usually cry this much but ever since she had moved to America her heart had been ripped completely in two and her tears had fallen easier than any other time. She hurriedly wiped them away so that he wouldn't say anything about.
translation; Tell me what you are." how do you know me?
tags; Damion outfit; click
|
|
|
Post by tabula on Jan 11, 2009 10:31:30 GMT -6
Damion looked down at her with a smile. "La poupée de bébé, je suis un vampire," he whispered. "N'ayez pas peur bien que." His finger tightened around her as she bit her lip again. He flipped her, so now, she was up against a tree. The bark was to her back. Roughly he pressed his ice cold lips to her, sucking on her bottom lip. The blood slowly came from the wound. He kissed her more deeply, desperately trying to get the blood she licked away. "Je devrai vous recevoir de cette habitude." His finger ran themselves to her cheek, wiping away her tears, as he seperated from her lips. "Aucune déchirure," Damion reminded, pulling her back to his chest.
Translation:
Baby doll, I am a vampire.
Don't be afraid though.
I will have to get you out of this habit.
No tears
|
|
|
Post by rayn on Jan 11, 2009 10:55:16 GMT -6
I've got the gift of one liners and you've got the curse of curves and with this gift i compose words
It took a minute for his whispered words to register in her mind. Her eyes widened. She shook her head. "non non non ... la mère de dire que vous avez peur de choses. " She told him. She wouldn't believe it. "m-m-myth." She stuttered, but that myth became reality. She wasn't expecting her back to be pressed against the hard bark of the tree or his icy lips to come crashing down on hers. She felt the pull of the blood as he drew it from her swollen lip. He pressed his lips harder against hers. When he pulled away and spoke more words. She didn't know what to do. She was stunned. She was scared and she didn't know how to handle this. Air automatically stopped going to her lungs and she started gasping in hyperentilation. She shook her head and her eyes were wide. She gripped the boy's shirt in her hands and took in long shaky pulls of air. It wasn't helping. Her heart rate sped up as she gasped for air. He was much taller than her and when he had picked her up she had instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist to keep herself from falling to the ground.
She looked at him with wide green eyes. "Vous devez être allongé. Vous devez être." She gasped bettween thick intakes of breath. "Vous allez me tuer?" She whispered trying to calm herself. She closed her eyes and tried to slow her breathing back down. It had slowed a bit but it was still fast and scared. She looked up at him. "If you are p-please do it q-quickly and p-p-painfully." she muttered. She realeased his shirt and tugged at a strand of her hair. Her lip still tasted of blood. Even more so that he drew it out of the wound. She couldn't help but bite on it when she was nervous and that's what she found herself doing right now. Her body shook with great tremors as she looked at him, wondering if it was inevitable that he would kill her.
Her mind tried to focus on the present but it was on mainly the past. What if she did go with him? Would she have a better life? Would she be okay? These questions ran through her mind in a blur. She was scattered into a million pieces. If she went with him and something bad happened to her again. Then all the pieces would shatter to even smaller bits. It was either stay and be broken, or go and be broken. Either way she wasa still going to be scattered and forgotten. She looked up at him her eyes stained with tears and for a moment her eyes flashed considering the possibility. Well really it wasn't a possibility as it was definte to happen. He wasn't letting her go and even she knew that much.
translation; no no no... mom's only say that stuff to scare you. You must be lying. You have to be. Are you going to kill me? notes; sorry about that. i'm on my brothers laptop and it closed on me. splee i thought i lost everything for a moment. i about started crying. bahaha. tags; Damion outfit; click
|
|