|
myOtaku.com
• Join Today!
My Pages
• Home
• Portfolio
• Guestbook
• Quiz Results
Contact Me
E-mail
• Click Here
Yahoo! Messenger
• gammaxakutabi
Vitals
Birthday
• 1989-10-16
Location
• Makin' witches brew...Shuddup n' go away!!
Member Since
• 2008-01-01
Occupation
• Employed as your assassin...
Real Name
• It's Mr. Ticker to you...
Personal
Achievements
• Burrowed to the center of the EARTH!!!
Anime Fan Since
• hmmm...let's see...Oh!!MM/DD/YY....yeeaah, thts it...
Favorite Anime
• uuuuh....oh, i like the one where the one character is really rather androgenous, and has big ol' shimmering eyes with an unnatural hair color and style....
Goals
• Write mor gooder...
Hobbies
• Sketchin' and reading any and all good literature
Talents
• Sketchin', pretty good with languages, i guess
|
|
|
Tuesday, February 5, 2008
Hmmm...
Well, I've noticed that alot of people on here like to tell their life story(nothing wrong with that at all, by the way),but because I decide not to, I seem to be a wall flower of sorts. So I'm going to tell you all a story. Let's call it "My Story". Like the title? I knew you would.
Well, Gehen wir los!...
One annoyingly bright and sunny day, a young man named Stefan walked with a spritely spring in his step, down the tree-lined pathway. Life seemed to be at its best, the gorgeous assortment of flora, blooming and swaying in the warm, milky breeze; small creatures of every kind gathered to greet him. He was on his way to meet his friend Croatia just outside of the park.
Stefan had not known Croatia long
to realize he was of a different sort. He couldn't name for certain what was odd about him though. Perhaps it was the way he set himself on a chair, almost mechanically. Or maybe how went about eating his food, on the rare occasions that Croatia ate at all. But it was not in Stefan's nature to judge someone on ungrounded suspicions. Croatia did say, after all, that he came from a foreign country. Stefan was the last person to know of the maneurisms of a foreigner.
He continued to walk along, hurriedly now that it was getting a little late. He had told Croatia he'd be there by four o'clock, but it was already about a quarter past, according to his watch. It seemed the quicker he walked the slower the going was, as if he was jogging on a mucky, muddy treadmill. His legs grew heavier like he was wading in a pool. The sun seemed to be setting already. Is it still only four? It seemed an eternity since he last looked at his watch.
Finally, his eyes had told him that he had reached the park, when an impossible darkness fell on him...
To Be Continued!!!
Please give feedback!!
Comments
(3)
« Home |
|
