DownpourI stand aloneIn the freezing rainThe storm ragesLightning flaresI'm soakedto the bone,but I feelstrangely happyThey can't hurt me,if they can't find meI don't know where I am,but it must be betterthan where I'm fromThe electric flashlighting a flameglowing,shining,shimmeringconsuming alland lighting my eyes ablazeThe fire hissesand gives updisappearingjust like I didI ranand when I stopped,I ended up heresecludedin the downpour
Finding my purpose CH 5That night, trying to sleep was pointless. There was no way I could have actually slept. I was at war with myself. Should I stay? Or should I go? These men had been my friends. Which were something I had never had before. It felt nice, having someone who cared about you, even the tiniest bit. Looking outside, I could see that it had begun to pour with rain. I sighed, and decided that, whatever would come of tomorrow, some sleep would help. I got back under the warm blanket, and surprisingly, with the resolve, I fell asleep almost immediately. Dreaming, I was in a fight. No injuries to be seen. Respawn was malfunctioning. And I was being held
Finding my purpose CH 4It was true, what Scout had said when we were outside. Soldier couldn't hurt me, but he could, however, knock me away viciously, and let the impact do the damage. As I hit the far wall, I struggled to stay conscious. I could hear yelling and arguing, but my ears were ringing, my sight was swimming, and my head was down. Voices... I could make bits of speech out now, but the tidbits escaped my mind as soon as I heard them. Everything was a complete blur. Suddenly one of the shapes before me moved, and as my vision garually cleared, I saw it take on a protective stance, feet apart and braced against the floor, arms ready to dart in any directio
Finding my purpose CH 3Much later, I woke up in my room again. I was in a noticeable amount less pain then what was yesterday, according to the change of light in the room. My arm was still in its sling, and it still hurt, but it didn't feel like a miniature train wreck anymore. The cut above my eye had formed a scab, but the stitches were still there. Everything else was healing nicely. The wrists, I finally realized, had white bandage over them, not unlike the stuff on Scout's hands. A peek underneath told me that the stupid Spy had done some permanent damage. I stretched my good arm, which was my right, luckily, and headed into the kitchen. The schedule said it
I FUCKING LOVE HER
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