Post by Shadow Clearwater on Aug 23, 2008 10:41:32 GMT -5
(Open)
Deep withing the palace walls, somewhere a great clock struck midnight - it's soft chiming barely heard from where he sat. The minature creature was sat atop of the North Tower, it's sienna fur bristling slightly in the cold breeze that blew across the night's carpet. Silence closed it's loving arms around Ravenwood, broken only by the gentle rustling of the paper pinned beneath the animal's auburn-coloured paws.
Shanda growled quietly to himself, his beady eyes reading over the familiar words that stung the page before him. For almost a month now those maddenning phrases had swum around his mind, confusing the teen, depressing him and all the more making him regret his actions. All he could think of now, was how much he needed to sort it out, to make up for his mistakes and try not to make them any worse.
The slytherin rested his head between his paws, closing the lids over his eyes with his expression one of sadness. Why did I get myself into this mess...? Shadow thought glumly, replaying the events of that night in Drakborough over in his mind.
He'd gone straight back to square one. Followed the girl right back through the streets, watching, as he had done the night they'd begun dating, as she carried the heavy crate of gunpowder and fireworks. It's familiarity had done nothing to save his sanity, instead, the memories of his childish reactions to the explosions; the dancing; the singing; the running and laughing as Gwen turned the rockets towards him instead, had only made his anger with the whole situation more desperate and angst-ridden.
And now, here he was, alone with nothing other than some devastating piece of literature that Gwen had called a birthday gift. A child-support letter was not his idea of a gift. What was he suposed to do with it? Sure, it had taken him some time before he finally understood what it meant - but that was just who he was. She seriously couldn't expect him to stay out of the kid's life, nor expect him to spend the time caring for it, could she? Besides, she'd made him swear to stay away. There was nothing he could do, she was just tormenting enough to let him know the news but nothing else.
To mess with my head.
It was so surreal...
So unfortunate...
This was not suposed to have happenned...
So unfortunate...
This was not suposed to have happenned...
Deep withing the palace walls, somewhere a great clock struck midnight - it's soft chiming barely heard from where he sat. The minature creature was sat atop of the North Tower, it's sienna fur bristling slightly in the cold breeze that blew across the night's carpet. Silence closed it's loving arms around Ravenwood, broken only by the gentle rustling of the paper pinned beneath the animal's auburn-coloured paws.
Shanda growled quietly to himself, his beady eyes reading over the familiar words that stung the page before him. For almost a month now those maddenning phrases had swum around his mind, confusing the teen, depressing him and all the more making him regret his actions. All he could think of now, was how much he needed to sort it out, to make up for his mistakes and try not to make them any worse.
The slytherin rested his head between his paws, closing the lids over his eyes with his expression one of sadness. Why did I get myself into this mess...? Shadow thought glumly, replaying the events of that night in Drakborough over in his mind.
He'd gone straight back to square one. Followed the girl right back through the streets, watching, as he had done the night they'd begun dating, as she carried the heavy crate of gunpowder and fireworks. It's familiarity had done nothing to save his sanity, instead, the memories of his childish reactions to the explosions; the dancing; the singing; the running and laughing as Gwen turned the rockets towards him instead, had only made his anger with the whole situation more desperate and angst-ridden.
And now, here he was, alone with nothing other than some devastating piece of literature that Gwen had called a birthday gift. A child-support letter was not his idea of a gift. What was he suposed to do with it? Sure, it had taken him some time before he finally understood what it meant - but that was just who he was. She seriously couldn't expect him to stay out of the kid's life, nor expect him to spend the time caring for it, could she? Besides, she'd made him swear to stay away. There was nothing he could do, she was just tormenting enough to let him know the news but nothing else.
To mess with my head.