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Dry laughterBlood driped slowly out from the wound, like rain drizzling on a window pane. "Drip drip drip," over and over; never stoping. The fabric of her pale, blush-blue sweater soaked it up, staining it crimson. She laughed, a dry, humorless laugh; for she knows she going to die. Alone, cold, and at the hands of someone she loved. She dosen't care about anything anmore though, not now. Suddenly the pain grows....hazy, not as sharp. It's warmer now too, less cold and forbidding. She feels lighter, as the world goes white, and fuzzy. She's happy.
Ray toro the king of cakesGather around children, and I will tell you the tale of "Ray toro the king of cakes and the troublesome cupcake." I shall now start, *Ahem*Ray toro is the king of ALL cakes. Not "A few" not "A lot" ALL cakes. He also was a very firm leader, he rules with a iron fist! All of the cakes live in small villages scatterd across the country of Caketopia, according to cake type."Cheese cakes" Live west of east, "Upside down cakes" Live east of west. "Wedding cakes" Live in lovers lane, "I-Just-Broke-Up-With-My-Boyfriend-And-I-Need-Comfort-Food Cakes" Live in heart-break-city. And so on and so forth, all except fruit cakes. THEY live in the outskirts of the land, (Mostly because no one likes them, and they arn't very talkative.)Now there once was a sweet, good, pretty young upside down cake, her name was caketrissia. One day she met a vanilla cake by the name of frostington, she thought he had very handsome sprinkles.They became very good friends and then, they became "culinary's school fo
Child!RussiaXBabysiter!readerYou stand in front of a huge house, your _____ eyes wide and unbelieving. Raising your hand up and glancing at the paper clutched in your fist.It's the right address, but you still can NOT belive this is the house. "This place it frign' HUGE." You mumble, steping through the gate and walking quickly up the walkway. You stumble over a lose rock, almost blow out a flip-flop in the process.You manage to reach the the front door without killing yourself, and knock on the door. A small boy opens the door, gazing up at you with bright purple eyes. "Hallo." He said, his words muffled by the child-sized scarf he had. "You are the new sittor Da?" You blink, he has a accent at this age? Shaking your head to clear your thoughts, you smile and stick out your hand. "Hello little one my name is _____ what's yours?" "Ivan Bravinksy, You are new sitter Da?" You nod "Where is your mommy and daddy?" He stares up at you seemingly unblinking, his little mouth covered in scarf. "already gone to party thi