Avenue wrote:
the lovestruck boy xx the girl who saved his life
it doesn't usually go this way
especially not with war
but it happened
all in the month of may
she saved his life many times,
and he was the one to say
'i love you, though ive felt like a mime
not able to say anything,
being stuck in invisible boxes, i cry
i felt like ive done a crime
and i dont know why'
she finally trusted him
but she was too late
she wasn't there to save him,
she grazed her fingers over the rim
of his snow white coffin
as the clouds soften
he loved her often,
all she did was neglect
but now all she wishes,
all she does is regret...
[story?]
"Get down!" A girl yelled, tackling me behind a crashed jeep. "Do you want to get yourself killed?" I shook my head and frantically retrieved the large weapon in my hand, letting go of it with one hand to fix my hat. "No, lady. I don't." She shook her head back and held up a hand, peeking from over the jeep and standing up, offering some help up. I took the help willingly, now up on my feet. "Don't call me lady, boy. My name is," She was interupted by a loud bang. Looking back at me, she flashed a disgusted look and stopped talking. She looked over me and shook her head, making a tsk sound with her tounge and rolling her bright blue eyes, her red and pale green hair shaking, "No no," She said, frowning. She fixed the weapon I had held low in my hands, shoving it closer to my chest and higher. She fixed my hat to a little angle, and smiled, as is statisfyed. Quickly the girl turned, her smile interupted once again from a loud gunshot. She flashed a short smile at me and dashed away.
I was new here. I didn't get any training, so I failishly stayed hidden behind the jeep, hopeful not to get caught. The pockets filled with supplies held me down alot, otherwise I could move swiftly. A thought pushed into my mind; maybe I should go out there, and fight for my country. Maybe I should take a stand and give a hand! Thinking about this optimistically, I soon regretted my choice to dash out into the open, arms flailing wildly. In a matter of seconds, all I could see was black. I woke up what seemed to be years later, but was even less than an hour. I was inside a shack; I looked around the shelves and I saw alot, but what really caught my eye were the piles of supplies, billions of first aid kits, firearms and other weapons, diving knives, and to my surprise, jewellery. I looked up, eyes fluttering open, and witnessed that same girl who tackled me, bandaging my arm. "Wh-what happened?" I said tiredly. Her eyes locked onto my quickly, as if my awaken surprised her. "Oh," She replied, dusting her hands and standing up, admiring her work carefully. I stared at my now bandaged shoulder and wiggled it a bit. "You ran out into the open like a complete idiot and got shot. In the shoulder, obviously." I smiled, thinking about how I never got to learn her name. I flicked my legs over the side of the bed and almost got up. "Tell me this, stranger," I caught her attention. "Your name."
The girl smirked and twirled a diving knife through her fingers with ease, a large firearm hoisted behind her back with a large rope holding it in place. "Hill," She looked down and ran her fingers alongside the shelves and curving over the rubies and the studded diamonds and amythest on the jewellery, supposedly stolen jewellery. She looked deep into my eyes. "Veronica Hill."
It was the most beautiful name Ive ever heard, and I didnt even know it.
very good
