ShioyaLarissaElara

What's the first thing that happens to you when you walk into class in the morning? Definitely not getting dragged away by your friend. Held by an extremely tight grip, you let your body followed wherever your friend was taking you to, too tired to even protest at this point. You sighed as you felt your lifeless arm flopping up and down, feet almost tripping over itself for a few times as the both of you brisked walked through the hallways. "Ahh...where are we going? I'm really tired.." You asked weakly before yawning, maybe you shouldn't have stayed up so late yesterday talking on the phone. "(F/N)-chan, you don't get it! I think we foun

Hot... So...damn...hot... Frankly, hot was not even a strong enough word to full depict these grueling sensations your body tortured you with, but honestly, your mind was too much of a muddle to conjure up anything else. Hot. Falling ill as a child proved, in its own strange way, a vacation. You at least did not have to go to school and face responsibilities. But, as an adult, with those responsibilities piling high, sickness proved nothing more than anxiety inducing, if not panic attack worthy. All you could obsess over were the unanswered e-mails and letters, the taxes, the rent, the texts and voice mails cramming your phone. All the

Feeling is such a nuisance. Like a domino, the merest word can set off an emotion, one small touch and the whole thing goes down in flames. (What an idiotic notion!) Many things can cause this: Love, death, lies, and truth. They can cause such chaos, and cloud the mind of common sense and other more important things. I hated the rush, the way my heart jerked me around, as if I was tied to a string. I hate being restricted, tied up like a puppet being used like a doll, being overpowered in waves that I couldn't fight at all. So I took that ever beating center of mine, fluttering ceaselessly in my chest, I tore it out of my skin and stored it

“what does that say?” you tell him. “it's spelled this way, right?” this particular class affects your grade more than the others, so naturally, all efforts to focus are put forth. the faint conversations throughout the lecture hall don’t bother you; the occasional flicker of the lights don’t bother you, but there is a certain someone who is bothering the hell out of you. it’s question after question. and it’s not even over the actual material. your concentrated countenance becomes deadpan and you swear all tolerance in the world has been lost. your blank expression does not meet his, howev

You got up pretty early, still upset with Ichigo. Just as you take a bite from your buttered toast your cell phone rings. “Better not be Strawberry” you say out loud as you answer it. “Hello?” “Hey _____!” you hear the perky voice of Kisuke. “Kisuke?” “Yep, I have to talk to you. Come over ASPA” without another word he hung up. You sigh “And I thought I’d have a nice happy day, guess not” you finish your breakfast and change out of your nightclothes. ~~~~ You hesitate at Hat n’ Clogs door, hoping Ichigo wouldn’t be on the other side. You take a breath a

What is a heart...? How do you feel...? What does it mean to hurt? What does it mean to love? Such questions circulated through your mind like the wind in a storm. How they isolated you. Not one of your companions ever seemed to stop and even consider these notions. Not one of your friends in abeyance seemed to care even the slightest what the answers might or might not bring. They attended their duties accordingly, following their orders, never breaking routine or ritual. And here you sat, ruminating the meaning of your very existence. Inhale - you took in the fresh, crisp hair, the coolness stinging your pharynx. Your pulse quickly qu