by MagicGirl_Helia » Fri Jan 27, 2012 11:11 am
Allie was still sitting in class, listening to the teacher talk about history. She had her notebook open and was drawing herself in winged wold form. She thought it would look better if she had colored pencils. She sighed and looked at the board.
(When does this class end ?)
"And wouldn't it be nice to live together,
In the kind of world where we belong..."
They were never scared
of the kids who might die,
or the empty spaces
they would leave behind.
"They were afraid of us
The ones who lived."
"It is the fire.
The spark.
Black is the color of memory.
It is our color.
The only one they'll use
to tell our story."
“I used to dream
about turning back time,
about reclaiming
the things I'd lost
and the person I used to be.
But not anymore.”