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Suna's Mental Asylum Ch 8The black haired girl heard a small musical tune playing from the distance. "Spellbound" by Lacuna Coil, and it was coming from behind the bathroom door. Oh god... She braced herself as she slowly opened the door with a small squeak.
Jari sat on the tile floor, bobbing his head to the music as he painted his toenails in the color in the Caribbean Sunrise. Jari was alive a relieved sigh escaped her lips.
"Huh?" The force of the pounding music lessened as he turned down the small neon green stereo setting next to him. He looked up at her in worry and surprise, "Aoihi, is something wrong? Did he hurt you?" He asked frowning.
She looked took in his appearance. His shirt was off and his hair was wet and slicked back. He must of just gotten out of the shower, specially since there was still a fog hanging onto mirror. His skin was tan and muscular, his body slim. There were two silver loops with balls were pierced through each nipple and another through his belly button. That must hav
Suna's mental Asylum ch 7"That bitch called me a 'fagot', did you hear her? That-----"
"That's nice, Jari, but I'm going to bed." The black haired teenager left him for a guest room to the right and Gaara followed her. When she entered the room and Gaara followed her in, she realized he meant to sleep with her. Aoihi blushed at the idea.
She grabbed a maroon colored long sleeve button down that Jari always let her sleep in whenever she was over. Aoihi blushed again but told Gaara to turn around already knowing that Jari was taking a shower muttering to himself. Once he turned around she moved to take her shirt off with her back to him. She took off her black bra placing the button up on her body that reached down to her knees. She buttoned it up before taking off her pants after which she finished buttoning the shirt the rest of the way down.
Aoihi squeaked in surprise as arms wrapped around her, picking her up. Gaara started kissing her neck again walking over to the blue futon bed, and pulling the covers ope
A Bloody, Stupid Miracle The day we’d cured the human condition was the day I put a bullet through my head and didn’t die. It was also the day I realized how scared I actually was of death, and after hours of muscle ache from holding that gauze against my open skull, after the wound closed and everything went back to normal, I had myself a good old-fashioned brainstorm. How ironic.
But when summer came, everything had fallen to shit. The air scorched my skin and parched my tongue every time I took a breath. The sun glared down on a rapidly-collapsing world, full of the undying bastard children of cruelty and misfortune. What was one to do when their cells regenerated faster than they decomposed?
My feet hit the pavement, now littered with jagged bits of glass to snap at my toes, thoroughly baked by the blazing ball of bitter disdain high overhead. Today was worse than yesterday. Though I’d often wondered the purpose of it anymore, I
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