Post by Brokenhearts on Sept 3, 2006 17:49:58 GMT -5
mi friend fell in love with this story, and has decided to make an anime out of it (god help her…). it's really very cheesey- but i like it ;D enjoy
You roll over yawning. You can hear them yelling again. You groan and look at the clock. It’s bloody four in the morning! What is their problem? Can’t a girl get some sleep. You have only just gotten home three hours before after being at a gig for various bands. You love it there, the noise, the people, the fun of it. Then you get home, and all hell brakes loose. Just coz mum and dad hate each other. Can’t they just get a bloody divorce already?
You shove a pillow over your head and tried to get to sleep. But you can hear something out side. Wasn’t unusual. You live in a pretty crappy part of town. Gun ware fare all over the place. Gangsters, mobbers, gang terriotry. What ever, the area has it. But it sounded different. More… deadly than anything man made. You don’t like it.
You sit up, and get dressed. You aren’t going to get any more sleep with your mum and dad rowing like that. What was their problem. You shouve on your black trousers, black tight top and a black hoodie. Black is a pretty neutral colour, it means you didn’t give a shit about the gangs or warefare. Wore black, you didn’t get shot. Mostly anyway. You debate on bringing my pencil torch, then decide to leave it. You tramp down the stairs and slam the door when you go out. If you aren’t gonna get any sleep, they weren’t either.
Instantly, you wish you had brought an umbrella. It was pouring it down. You are dreanched the minute you go out. You put up your hood, but it made no difference, You are still soacked, and cold to the bone.
Still, it is better than the arguing.
A roll of thunder went over head and the dark sky lit up with lightening. You look up, squinting in the rain. You sigh, and walk on, throwing your hood off, shaking your head. You aren’t like more people in your area.You won’t keep your head down if you were off in a different territory, or keep your head down so you wouldn’t be shot. You figure if you’re gonna die, then you’re gonna die, nothing you can do about it. Or would do about it. You always have your head up, chin in the air and shoulders pushed back. Sticks our boobs out, and you always stuck out. But hey, you love sticking out, and if any one looked there, you’d hit them- hard.
Your rich chocolate brown hair was going black with the rain and sticking to your face, making your hair go into clumps. You keep shaking it away. It is dark, especially with the rain, so it’s hard to make out where you are wandering. You wander down an ally at one point, you don’t even realise until you lean on a wall then trip and bang into another one. They are so close to each other. You curse under your breath. It is not a good idea to go down an ally way on your own, especially if you’re a girl. Weather you care about the war fare or not. You get mugged, killed, rapped what ever if you’re not careful.
Worse if you turn back. If someone’s following you they’ll get you faster, and if you see them then turn round they’ll know you’re scared. So you pretty much always gotta keep walking. No matter what. Or else’ you’re pretty Goddamned screwed.
You were.
You carry on walking, not really caring where you end up, and half in a day dream. There is a rush of air and a thump of feet and someone, a good 6 ft 8 or 9 stands in front of you. You look up at them back tracking. He leers down at you with impossiblly bright blue eyes. He is dressed entirlly in red, and his hair is white blonde. His face is covered by some kind of red scarf. You frown at him.
“Can I go passed?” you ask timiedly, you might have liked sticking out, you don’t like being threatened, because you know you would loose it and get killed. That would have been the out come if you ever messed with some one this, or who you think he is like.
He carries on leering at you, and then looks behind you, nodding. You turn your head. There is another one. Around the same height, but shorter than him. His hair is like firey red and he is dressed in a more of a scarlett colour. Probably a gang uniform or something.
You are getting scared now. You have heard stories like this, from girls you had known and moved away. It often shadowed our movment in the area. Just two words, it always hungin the air of ally ways, when a girl is on their own. Gang Rape.
Fear was replaced by recilliance and rebelion.
You push pass the first one. He pushes you against the wall, hand on your throat. She scrabble at his hand, chocking and coughing. “Go away,” you rasp, trying to kick him.
They laugh at your feeble efforts. One of them brandishes what looks like a pipe to you. You don’t care, you try and kick out, but it’s not working.
“Fisty bitch isn’t she,” snarled one in scarlett.
“Let me go!”
You start to black out. You’re eyes are going out of focus and you can’t see very much. The pipe comes down, you close your eyes waiting to be knocked out. You’re dropped to the floor, and you gasp back your breath, opening your eyes. It’s still very blurry, but you can make out some more shapes. Both of very tall people, men, with things in their backs. It looks suspisiously like wings. You can hear thumping on the ground like people running.
“What do you want with the girl?” hisses a voice you don’t recognise. You suspect it’s one of the new commers. Your visions is slowly coming back. The two new people become clearer, but you don’t want to look. You stumble to your feet, and try to run. You can only walk, and stumblingly. Your legs are shaking.
You bump into someone. A gasp is knocked out of you.
“It’s all right,” says the person, you can’t make them out properly, “you’re safe now.”
You’re not listening. You don’t care any more. You back away from the person, and back into another one. This one’s wearing red. Like the people who hurt you. Normally you would get them, but you’re still wozy for some reason, and you can’t see. With out thinking you run, pushing the one in front of you out of the way.
You don’t stop, don’t think, just run. All the way back to your house. The rain’s getting worse and worse. You look up at your house, leaning on the opposite it. You can’t go back yet, they might have followed you.
You hear feet thumping on the floor again, you turn and see three people running towards you. Still dizzy, and unfocused, you run towards the forest just out of town. You dash over the bridge and swerve into the forests. Thorns pull at your clothes, branches hit you. You’re dizzy, bruised, scratched, you have a head ache and you’re being chased. For a moment you curse yourself for going out, then you slam into some one. They grab your wrists, and refuse to let go. You open your mouth scream, but you can’t. Your throat won’t let you.
“Shhh,” he whispers to you, pulling you coser to him, “we won’t hurt you. Just calm down.”
He blows something at you and you slump onto him. Your caught, and you can’t do anything. Just before you pass out, he picks you up, and mutters, “pretty, for a human.”
You roll over yawning. You can hear them yelling again. You groan and look at the clock. It’s bloody four in the morning! What is their problem? Can’t a girl get some sleep. You have only just gotten home three hours before after being at a gig for various bands. You love it there, the noise, the people, the fun of it. Then you get home, and all hell brakes loose. Just coz mum and dad hate each other. Can’t they just get a bloody divorce already?
You shove a pillow over your head and tried to get to sleep. But you can hear something out side. Wasn’t unusual. You live in a pretty crappy part of town. Gun ware fare all over the place. Gangsters, mobbers, gang terriotry. What ever, the area has it. But it sounded different. More… deadly than anything man made. You don’t like it.
You sit up, and get dressed. You aren’t going to get any more sleep with your mum and dad rowing like that. What was their problem. You shouve on your black trousers, black tight top and a black hoodie. Black is a pretty neutral colour, it means you didn’t give a shit about the gangs or warefare. Wore black, you didn’t get shot. Mostly anyway. You debate on bringing my pencil torch, then decide to leave it. You tramp down the stairs and slam the door when you go out. If you aren’t gonna get any sleep, they weren’t either.
Instantly, you wish you had brought an umbrella. It was pouring it down. You are dreanched the minute you go out. You put up your hood, but it made no difference, You are still soacked, and cold to the bone.
Still, it is better than the arguing.
A roll of thunder went over head and the dark sky lit up with lightening. You look up, squinting in the rain. You sigh, and walk on, throwing your hood off, shaking your head. You aren’t like more people in your area.You won’t keep your head down if you were off in a different territory, or keep your head down so you wouldn’t be shot. You figure if you’re gonna die, then you’re gonna die, nothing you can do about it. Or would do about it. You always have your head up, chin in the air and shoulders pushed back. Sticks our boobs out, and you always stuck out. But hey, you love sticking out, and if any one looked there, you’d hit them- hard.
Your rich chocolate brown hair was going black with the rain and sticking to your face, making your hair go into clumps. You keep shaking it away. It is dark, especially with the rain, so it’s hard to make out where you are wandering. You wander down an ally at one point, you don’t even realise until you lean on a wall then trip and bang into another one. They are so close to each other. You curse under your breath. It is not a good idea to go down an ally way on your own, especially if you’re a girl. Weather you care about the war fare or not. You get mugged, killed, rapped what ever if you’re not careful.
Worse if you turn back. If someone’s following you they’ll get you faster, and if you see them then turn round they’ll know you’re scared. So you pretty much always gotta keep walking. No matter what. Or else’ you’re pretty Goddamned screwed.
You were.
You carry on walking, not really caring where you end up, and half in a day dream. There is a rush of air and a thump of feet and someone, a good 6 ft 8 or 9 stands in front of you. You look up at them back tracking. He leers down at you with impossiblly bright blue eyes. He is dressed entirlly in red, and his hair is white blonde. His face is covered by some kind of red scarf. You frown at him.
“Can I go passed?” you ask timiedly, you might have liked sticking out, you don’t like being threatened, because you know you would loose it and get killed. That would have been the out come if you ever messed with some one this, or who you think he is like.
He carries on leering at you, and then looks behind you, nodding. You turn your head. There is another one. Around the same height, but shorter than him. His hair is like firey red and he is dressed in a more of a scarlett colour. Probably a gang uniform or something.
You are getting scared now. You have heard stories like this, from girls you had known and moved away. It often shadowed our movment in the area. Just two words, it always hungin the air of ally ways, when a girl is on their own. Gang Rape.
Fear was replaced by recilliance and rebelion.
You push pass the first one. He pushes you against the wall, hand on your throat. She scrabble at his hand, chocking and coughing. “Go away,” you rasp, trying to kick him.
They laugh at your feeble efforts. One of them brandishes what looks like a pipe to you. You don’t care, you try and kick out, but it’s not working.
“Fisty bitch isn’t she,” snarled one in scarlett.
“Let me go!”
You start to black out. You’re eyes are going out of focus and you can’t see very much. The pipe comes down, you close your eyes waiting to be knocked out. You’re dropped to the floor, and you gasp back your breath, opening your eyes. It’s still very blurry, but you can make out some more shapes. Both of very tall people, men, with things in their backs. It looks suspisiously like wings. You can hear thumping on the ground like people running.
“What do you want with the girl?” hisses a voice you don’t recognise. You suspect it’s one of the new commers. Your visions is slowly coming back. The two new people become clearer, but you don’t want to look. You stumble to your feet, and try to run. You can only walk, and stumblingly. Your legs are shaking.
You bump into someone. A gasp is knocked out of you.
“It’s all right,” says the person, you can’t make them out properly, “you’re safe now.”
You’re not listening. You don’t care any more. You back away from the person, and back into another one. This one’s wearing red. Like the people who hurt you. Normally you would get them, but you’re still wozy for some reason, and you can’t see. With out thinking you run, pushing the one in front of you out of the way.
You don’t stop, don’t think, just run. All the way back to your house. The rain’s getting worse and worse. You look up at your house, leaning on the opposite it. You can’t go back yet, they might have followed you.
You hear feet thumping on the floor again, you turn and see three people running towards you. Still dizzy, and unfocused, you run towards the forest just out of town. You dash over the bridge and swerve into the forests. Thorns pull at your clothes, branches hit you. You’re dizzy, bruised, scratched, you have a head ache and you’re being chased. For a moment you curse yourself for going out, then you slam into some one. They grab your wrists, and refuse to let go. You open your mouth scream, but you can’t. Your throat won’t let you.
“Shhh,” he whispers to you, pulling you coser to him, “we won’t hurt you. Just calm down.”
He blows something at you and you slump onto him. Your caught, and you can’t do anything. Just before you pass out, he picks you up, and mutters, “pretty, for a human.”
