Every story needs an end
that's why were here my friend
We turned the written word into divine script
as if spears of poison tipped
Looking for that final strike
a chance to put the competitor's head on spike
Everybody's all on Edge
but we're all warriors, no one dare jumps ledge
We were placed in this Arena for a promise of Gold
A single Victor will get to hold
So we look at each other with envious eyes
a few rush in with battle cries
Throwing metaphors sharper than daggers
hoping your opponent trips and staggers
They came as Writers and left as Assassins
They wore their work as if high Fashions
They poured their souls into written w
I'm awake, filtered sunlight pierces my eyelids and prompts my arrival to the living. Cold leather beneath me tells me I am not at home. I open my eyes. My eyes are met by deathly white sunlight. The haze clears, and I become aware of my surroundings. A bus. Why am I on a bus?
“You will be traveling by bus to Forest Villa. You will be met by your new family. And Azazel, try not to screw it up this time.” the social worker explains, the chide of her voice as thick as blood. I look to the stitches that hold my wrist.
“Indeed.”
I look to my wrists, and slide the sleeves up, remembering everything. I look out the wi
He was four.
He played with his toys, occasionally twisting them into weird angles and breaking them, running and giggling around the backyard when his new friend came by for a visit.
He was six.
Elementary school was scary! It wasn't like kindergarten where everything is all nice and colours. You have to learn how to write, how to read and understand totally new words you'd never seen before, and do some of those stuff when you put together some numbers and put a symbol between it, it will make a different result. He was terrible at combining numbers, and thus, his grades made the school called his mum. He cried that day. He was then a sh