Post by GRACE STEEL on Jul 4, 2016 19:11:36 GMT -6
There's not a day that passes by
The pain has not amassed inside
It's breaking me down to the ground
It's like I crashed and died
It's hard to leave your past behind
Especially when you're last in line
And half the time it acts like vines
And wraps inside my fragile mind
The pain has not amassed inside
It's breaking me down to the ground
It's like I crashed and died
It's hard to leave your past behind
Especially when you're last in line
And half the time it acts like vines
And wraps inside my fragile mind
It was mid afternoon. She had just got finished dealing with the book returns to the local Library. After all, it was her job as a librarian to oversee everything that came in. It was a humbled job. She had made a career out of it. She enjoyed the silence, and being around literature and historical documents made life seem interesting. It never proved to be disinteresting. For her, it meant peace. Grace was a solitary creature. She mainly kept to herself. After all, the ignorance of the vampires and werewolves, set her off. She disliked the feuding between the races. Everything was centuries of conflict, infighting amongst each other for dominance and clear dominion. It bothered the hybrid. She was of both bloodlines, and had spent the majority of her life fleeing away from the conflicts. Her parents had conceived her and her brother out of a forbidden relationship. Nowadays, Grace began fighting back. She would kill any of them that came after her. Fools, they all were.
As she traveled down sidewalk, it was a mild day. Her raven hair, and sapphire eyes glanced around her environment as she walked. Her destination was a nearby bookstore. She was an avid customer. After all, her apartment was lined with books. One of the few things that the halfbreed had collected over the years. She didn’t depend on technology, unlike so many of her distant cousins. Her brother was the very same way. Didn’t use technology, unless it was required. The two kept in contact by exchanging letters. Recently, she had received a letter explaining what he was up too in New York. He was on the other end of the country. Distance never proved to be a problem. If either needed the other, they would travel to see each other in a heartbeat. Her brother was one of the few people that she could depend on. Her parents, had vanished, but Grace was certain that they were fine. After all, they were survivalists. Hard times, never proved to be to great a challenge. She accepted the loneliness, and isolation. Somehow, she had a better sense of self, when being alone.
Grace existed alone, seldom had friends. Fact of the matter, she very rarely let people in. Getting close to others, could prove to be fatal. Friendships, brought with it the hardship of gaining enemies. Although, Grace could handle herself very well-- she persevered in her loneliness. She set her eyes on the looming building ahead of her, shutting off all thoughts that plagued her memory. She was dressed in a long, obsidian summer dress. Obsidian colored hair falling along her backside. Automatically, her senses spiked. She could smell the air. It was going to rain again. She loved the rain, hearing the rain tap her window before falling asleep, after curling up with a fictional book. A sly smile graced her features, in complexion with her alabaster skin.
Working her way through the sea of people, she slipped into the bookstore like a ghost. The only thing that gave her entering away, was the light sound of a bell. On auto command, she stopped. Getting a good look around the store. The owner paced his way toward the central counter. He knew Grace immediately as he saw her. No words exchanged, he simply nodded at the hybrid. Grace’s icy hues landed on the man, and she returned the same nod. The two had developed a silent language. Grace conversed her energy, and rarely talked unless it was needed. Most times, it turned out to be a form of diplomacy. Grace turned out to be extremely diplomatic if need be. Fighting was a last resort, unless needed. However, Grace could also be a feral killer. As the owner went back to his business. Grace walked down one of the corridors. Pillars of books lined the shelves. She closed both eyes, and tried to focus on the smell. It painted a perfect picture. Each book had a story to tell, a journey that it had traveled from the hands of the authors that wrote those stories. The smell was enticing, something that she had loved at the local library. It represented everything that she worked for She stood motionless in one of the corridors. Gently, she placed her right finger tips on the nearest shelve. Gingerly, she slid the tips of her fingers over the fabric of all the books lined together. She didn’t know what she was searching for. Somehow, she would instinctively know when the right book would presented its self.
She slowly walked the corridor, eyes seemingly never falling away from the books. After a few minutes, she stepped away. Her feet carried her to another passage of books, and soon to be the nearby stairs-- which she ascended without much thought. Sapphire eyes glanced at another corridor, but above it, she saw the fictional section. Her eyes narrowed on more books, and she mused to herself. “What delightful things do we have here.” She glanced at the sea of books, and again traced her fingers over the great man passages before her. It intrigued her, and filled her spirit with a lightness. Somehow, she felt soothed by the books. Of course, she had just gotten paid. She was ready to add more to her collection. The books beckoned to her, and then she stood stationary. Finding a particular book at seemed interesting. It was a tad bit dusty, and it had seemed used. The binding was partially ripped, but the paged within still remained unbroken. She stood silently, and flipped to the fist chapter.
As she traveled down sidewalk, it was a mild day. Her raven hair, and sapphire eyes glanced around her environment as she walked. Her destination was a nearby bookstore. She was an avid customer. After all, her apartment was lined with books. One of the few things that the halfbreed had collected over the years. She didn’t depend on technology, unlike so many of her distant cousins. Her brother was the very same way. Didn’t use technology, unless it was required. The two kept in contact by exchanging letters. Recently, she had received a letter explaining what he was up too in New York. He was on the other end of the country. Distance never proved to be a problem. If either needed the other, they would travel to see each other in a heartbeat. Her brother was one of the few people that she could depend on. Her parents, had vanished, but Grace was certain that they were fine. After all, they were survivalists. Hard times, never proved to be to great a challenge. She accepted the loneliness, and isolation. Somehow, she had a better sense of self, when being alone.
Grace existed alone, seldom had friends. Fact of the matter, she very rarely let people in. Getting close to others, could prove to be fatal. Friendships, brought with it the hardship of gaining enemies. Although, Grace could handle herself very well-- she persevered in her loneliness. She set her eyes on the looming building ahead of her, shutting off all thoughts that plagued her memory. She was dressed in a long, obsidian summer dress. Obsidian colored hair falling along her backside. Automatically, her senses spiked. She could smell the air. It was going to rain again. She loved the rain, hearing the rain tap her window before falling asleep, after curling up with a fictional book. A sly smile graced her features, in complexion with her alabaster skin.
Working her way through the sea of people, she slipped into the bookstore like a ghost. The only thing that gave her entering away, was the light sound of a bell. On auto command, she stopped. Getting a good look around the store. The owner paced his way toward the central counter. He knew Grace immediately as he saw her. No words exchanged, he simply nodded at the hybrid. Grace’s icy hues landed on the man, and she returned the same nod. The two had developed a silent language. Grace conversed her energy, and rarely talked unless it was needed. Most times, it turned out to be a form of diplomacy. Grace turned out to be extremely diplomatic if need be. Fighting was a last resort, unless needed. However, Grace could also be a feral killer. As the owner went back to his business. Grace walked down one of the corridors. Pillars of books lined the shelves. She closed both eyes, and tried to focus on the smell. It painted a perfect picture. Each book had a story to tell, a journey that it had traveled from the hands of the authors that wrote those stories. The smell was enticing, something that she had loved at the local library. It represented everything that she worked for She stood motionless in one of the corridors. Gently, she placed her right finger tips on the nearest shelve. Gingerly, she slid the tips of her fingers over the fabric of all the books lined together. She didn’t know what she was searching for. Somehow, she would instinctively know when the right book would presented its self.
She slowly walked the corridor, eyes seemingly never falling away from the books. After a few minutes, she stepped away. Her feet carried her to another passage of books, and soon to be the nearby stairs-- which she ascended without much thought. Sapphire eyes glanced at another corridor, but above it, she saw the fictional section. Her eyes narrowed on more books, and she mused to herself. “What delightful things do we have here.” She glanced at the sea of books, and again traced her fingers over the great man passages before her. It intrigued her, and filled her spirit with a lightness. Somehow, she felt soothed by the books. Of course, she had just gotten paid. She was ready to add more to her collection. The books beckoned to her, and then she stood stationary. Finding a particular book at seemed interesting. It was a tad bit dusty, and it had seemed used. The binding was partially ripped, but the paged within still remained unbroken. She stood silently, and flipped to the fist chapter.