in the glorious moonlight

Here we are hand in hand walking down the street

Everyones stops to stare

But our eyes do not meet theirs

And here we are

Not caring who sees us

As we walk joyfully

In eachothers company

Cuz everyday we see them

And their stares

We see their judgment

But we don’t care

Cos every day

And every night

It doesn’t matter

Who cares

If we see something

That the others can’t

So here we are hand in hand

Walking side by side

In glorious

In the glorious

moonlight

My Psychotic Scene from 8 this morning.

He stood facing the ocean on a cliff. His hair black, falling to his jaw. He looked at me with piercing blue eyes, which seemingly glowed. He gave me a crooked smile with full lips. The cold salty air blew his hair out of his face for a moment. He wore a gray and green striped hoodie with jeans. His crooked smile stayed in my mind, as well as the salty air and the clouds above. At around nine at night, i found out who he looked like and can't look at the picture i drew of the scene.

First Part to Scret destineyy

Fiona sat in her throne of ice, whispering a spell. Her hand slowly traced the outer edges of the ball of ice in her hand. She felt the heat of a servant before he even entered the room. She looked up, her seemingly frozen body moving gracefully. Her eyes were color of the ice around her, clear blue and gleaming.
Alas the spell was finished, and she looked back down. “Lady Fiona, I have come. What is it that you ask?” He said with the drawl of a southerner from the human realm.
Her pale pink lips formed a viscous smile as she saw what she wanted in the ice. A girl with black wavy hair, which faded into gentle glossy curls, and pale skin shown. “You must remember, Elgin. In sixteen years. We will find her. She is being born as we speak.” She whispered, in light, melodic voice.
“Who?” He asked, puzzled.
She looked up at him. His dark hair was straight, and fell to his shoulders. His arms were muscular. His skin was pale from years without sun. Fiona stood and walked toward him gracefully. “Watch your son.” She whispered as the patter of little feet came toward them.
Her head turned toward the entry way to her ice throne room as a miniature version of Elgin came into the room. He was about two, the little boy was, with the same straight black hair. He had his mother’s eyes though. Not the eyes of an ice child—like his father. His eyes were deep amber—those of fire. She would mold him, Fiona would. Into a child of her liking. A noble, loyal child of the ice queen.
The little boy ran to his father, and hugged him close. “Daddy! I want to go home!” He said, looking defiantly at Fiona.
“Come, now child.” Fiona said, taking a warm motherly tone. She knelt, and held her hand out to him. “I won’t hurt you. I’m here to keep you and your daddy safe. As long as I’m here, and as long as your daddy stays with me, nothing will happen to him or you.” She said, smiling.
He slowly walked to her, with his father’s help. Her grabbed her hand and looked at her with wide, slightly trusting eyes. “Will you help your daddy stay here? So you and him can stay safe?”
The little boy thought for a moment, puzzlement filling his face. “Yes…as long as you keep daddy safe.” He said, with a determination of a two year old.
She smiled, amused and fondly. She wasn’t aloud to have children. Winter and ice brought death. She could not give life. It was against her element. “Good.” She nodded. “I promise I’ll keep your daddy safe Damon.”

New songs!! :D

Okay so my songs will be posted here when i write them, suggest a beat! or anything really, ill give you cedit when you hve an idea ;D

~fiction~

Chapter 1

Cole

I stood in my room, wondering why I still had this empty feeling. I had everything, a hot girlfriend, everything a guy could want. A video game room with the latest technologies, a personal assistant who did everything for me—who didn’t like to be called a butler, eternal youth, and every girl I could want. Yet the only joy I really had in this small, but bustling, town was a friend I acquired during a plane ride here. His name was Derek; he always talked about his sixteen year old sister like she was the only thing he was living for, especially after his parents died. Excruciating what could be learned about humans on an hour long plane ride. He had said he’d been taking care of her since she was twelve and he was fourteen at their grandmother’s house.
Well, apparently I was heading over to his small house later on today, so I turned, seeing myself in a mirror. Disheveled black hair lay across my forehead, piercing blue eyes stood out against long black eyelashes and pale, smooth skin. I walked to the mahogany desk and wrote a note to myself. Take down mirrors. I scrawled, I didn’t like looking at myself—considering I really didn’t need to. I will always appear the same, I thought wincing.
I put on a white T-shirt, jeans, and black converse. Then I headed to the garage, grabbing the keys to my Mustang.

A few minutes later I was walking up the sidewalk to a quant little house. The outside was painted in pale blue; there was a screen door, then a white door with a semi circle window. I rang the plastic doorbell, to be greeted by a girl with auburn hair and blue gray eyes. She had a dark tan and clear skin. She wore a gray Spartan hoodie and jeans. She smiled. “You must be…um,” she thought for a second. “Cole?” She said.
I smiled, she seemed unfazed—unlike other girls her age would. “Yes and your Alexandra?”
She looked behind her and glared. “It seems Derek’s been telling you my full name. Actually just call me Alex.” She said, not taking her eyes of her grinning brother.
I laughed. “You would be right.” She looked back, with honest eyes. She peered around me and raised an eyebrow. “Mustang convertible? I’ve always wanted a black one.” She smiled.
“Alex! Let the guy in!” Derek laughed from the inside.
She rolled her eyes, and walked away leaving the door open. I stared at the threshold, and stepped over. Unfortunately that myth was true, except it only usually applied to the room where a human slept. I looked around to see a cheap but comfy sofa and chair, a medium sized TV with an XBOX 360 and a Wii next to it. The carpet wasn’t plush but it was okay.
I high fived Derek, with his dark brown hair and the same eyes as his sister. He had a dark tan too, and he wore a short sleeved shirt—revealing his lean muscles that I had as well, but hidden behind pale skin.
I could smell everything in the house; the macaroni and cheese that was being made in the kitchen, the residue of Burberry perfume, and—I stopped. My eyes widened as I took in the scent, cherry blossoms, one of my favorite smells, but it started to smell coppery and wrong. I looked toward the kitchen, seeing why. Alex had a knife in one hand, the other cut and bloodied. She gasped in pain as Derek ran over to her and put a towel over the wound.
I didn’t know it now, but this wouldn’t be the first time Alex was in danger of me.

Alex
I was well aware of the pain in my left hand—thank god it was the left one and not the right! I tried my hardest not to cry—in front of my brother or his staring company. I looked up once to see him staring directly at the blood, his face changed. He seemed to have an essence of power emanating from him, making him seem scary as hell. He still looked the same, but as if any color had drained from his face. His eyes turned feral and he attempted to look away, but found my eyes instead.
It was a moment definitely, but it seemed to go on for hours. I couldn’t look away, until my brother rushed me to the door. “I think you’ll need stitches.” He said calm, yet panicked.
“We can take my car.” Cole said.

So there we were, in the Vindrexville hospital. I sat on a gurney in the antiseptic smelling room. I glared at the stitches in my hand—running from my wrist to my middle finger in a crooked line. I didn’t even remember how it happened, and that’s what I repeatedly told Derek—but he probably thought some ninja thing came into the room and cut my hand, erased my memory, and left.
I giggled when I thought that. Derek just looked at me like I was weird. “Hey, I have to go meet Jessica. Hope your hand gets better.” Cole said, a little perplexed.
“Is she the new flavor of the week?” Derek said. I narrowed my eyes at him. “Some lucky dude you are. Have fun with her man.” Derek and Cole shared a grin that only a guy could.
I glared at both of them, crossing my arms; ignoring the pain it caused my hand. “So now girls are flavors are they?” I muttered.
Cole looked at me, apparently hearing my comment. I raised one eyebrow, challenging. He just kept that stupid ass grin on his face, but his eyes said something different. As soon as he left I said the same thing to Derek, just a little louder. He muttered something and looked away, trying to stifle a laugh. I just closed my eyes and laid back.

Cole
The memory of the moment in her living room was certainly leaving an impression on me. I immediately wanted to know everything about her, especially why she wasn’t tongue tied around me, or scared when she saw the change in my face that usually scared most girls.
I walked to the coffee shop, not even thinking anything at all about Jessica. I looked around, wondering why I had come here to find her in a pink top, jeans and what could only be described as pink strappy heels. She smiled with white teeth that were paid for by her daddy. Her blonde hair hung in waves down her shoulders and back. She had a tan and clear skin, and her gem blue eyes stood out against black eyeliner.

An hour later I lay in Jessica’s bed, with her cuddling up to me. I closed my eyes, regretting my decision as soon as I saw Alex’s all seeing gaze trap me in my head. She seemed to see into my soul. I sighed and rubbed my eyes. I knew that after this I wouldn’t be able to see Jessica again, just like the coward I was.
I got up and got dressed as quickly and silently as I could. Jessica still snored. I walked out the door, feeling bad the entire way to my car.

I didn’t know where I was driving to, but I got to Derek’s house, forgetting that I had driven them to the hospital. The wooden door was open, and the XBOX blared from inside. I went to ring the doorbell, Derek answered this time. “Hey, sorry about not driving you guys home. I was just in a hurry to get away from the hospital” I shivered. “I hate those places.”
Derek laughed. “It’s okay, just a little cab fare.” He shrugged.
I sat on the couch a cushion away from Derek. “How was Jessica?” He grinned looking over at my disheveled appearance.
I shrugged. “I guess I’m not really into her as much as I thought I’d be.”
Alex walked in carrying a purple bag of Doritos. “New flavor didn’t work out for you that much?” She said sarcastically.
I smiled. “Guess not, seems she’s to clingy, like most girls her age are.”
That got me a glare. “It’s not there fault their daddies bought them everything in the world, they just weren’t raised right—and will still probably be living with them until they’re thirty with many, many cats and either saggy asses or twenty year old pool boys. Maybe both.” She shrugged, eating a Dorito.
She had a mind didn’t she? “Why do you defend them?” I asked.
She looked at my face, and then rolled her eyes. “Because you act like girls are animals that need to be taught, and you’re stereotypical—like most adults are. I mean everyone thinks a vampire would wear nothing but black and couldn’t come into the sunlight, but that just depends on your perspective of the legends. And after all, shouldn’t you and my brother be grunting and playing XBOX instead of having a debate with a sixteen year old girl?”
I swallowed hard. “What if vampires could walk into the sunlight, then why would they tell humans they couldn’t?”
She snorted. “So that the holy people would be looking at the people crouching in the shadows other than the really pale guy right next to them in direct sunlight. Duh, it’s really that easy to figure out. Don’t look so baffled.”
I did look baffled; this human girl got why we lied in the legends, and which were probably untrue. I just stared at her for a second longer; then I paid attention the video game on the screen, eventually playing for myself.

Alex
I looked at the screen, occasionally casting glances at Cole, noticing the time and groaning about school tomorrow. I stood up and yawned. “I guess I’ll let you two get to your conversational grunts and banging your fists to your chests like Tarzan.” I said walking into my room.
“Night, have fun at school tomorrow. I’m leaving early in the morning.” Derek called.
I groaned even louder. He laughed in the other room.

The next day I woke up super duper tired. I looked at the clock and gasped. I had completely forgotten about school, the clock said it was eight o’clock. I got dressed as fast as possible, wearing a blue V-neck shirt with a black undershirt, jean shorts, and black converse. The Vindrexville High school was too far away to walk or run to and school started in twenty minutes. I groaned and searched for my cell phone in the kitchen, and finding Derek’s. I bit my lip, should I call Cole?
I found him in the address book and dialed. “Hello, this is Cole.” He said after the fifth ring.
I felt stupid. This is your friend’s younger sister, Alex; could you take me to school? Yes I would totally say that. “Never mind.” I hung up.
I paced the house, and called Derek. “Yellow?” He said.
“Pink, I woke up late!” I said.
I heard his laugh on the other end. “Just stay home today, ‘kay? But you can’t skip the rest of this month.” He said sternly.
“’Kay,” I laughed.
“Bye.” He said.
“Later,” I hung up.
I sat on the couch and played The Legend of Spyro on the Wii. I yawned and lay down on the couch. I jumped when the door opened later, realizing I had fallen asleep. Cole walked in with a McDonald’s bag. I smiled sleepily; he was ultimately my savior right now. “Double cheese burger, large fry, and barbecue sauce?” He grinned.
“Don’t forget the large Dr. Pepper.” I said, as he held up a large cup that had condensation on the sides.
“How did you know?” I grinned.
“Your brother,” he shrugged. “Said you always had Mc. Donald’s for lunch.”
I thought for a moment. “That is my ritual.”

My Fiction. PART 2

I frowned, sitting at the picnic table. My dark brown, wavy hair, hung over my shoulders, shielding my face from the burning sun. Laughter was coming from behind me, from my little cousins. We were at the memorial to celebrate family, and to mourn the dead. I was by my great, great, great grandmother’s grave—her name was Marilyn. Apparently, as the story goes, she died waiting for her lost love. No one could figure out who it was, perhaps Grampa Roy?
No. She didn’t whisper his name in her sleep—everyone knew she hated the old dog, for treating her the way he did. I smiled at the thought. She was weak though—unable to do any harm against him. That was the way of the town back then. “Excuse me…” A voice said. My eyebrows went up at the unfamiliar voice, and I leaned back—looking up. A pale guy—about eighteen or nineteen, was standing behind me; leaning on his right foot—hand in his pocket. His other hand held a single rose.
His hair hung around his face shaggily, his eyes bright blue. His eyes widened when he took in my appearance. Sure my eyes freaked people out, but I wasn’t that astonishing—was I? They were a cross between blue and green, kind of like a cats, and they changed color, depending on the light.
“I, um, was looking for someone.” He said.
His voice held something that sounded like old time southern. It was really hard to detect though. “Who?” I asked, glancing at one of the little boys playing in the sandbox nearby.
“Her name is Marilyn, a relative of a friend I presume. He couldn’t make it here today, so he asked me to put a rose on her grave.”
My eyes darted back to him. “What friend?” I stood up.
Every person in my small family was here—aunts, uncles, and grandparents. My parents were dead. He swallowed, and looked around. “Can you just tell me where her grave is?”
I pointed behind him. “Marilyn Moscowits. My great, great, great grandmother. Your friend would be here if there was one.”
He turned to the grave, casting a sharp glance at me. “And what’s your name?”
“Rosalyn. Call me Rose.”

My Fiction.

Marilyn, a girl I had known all of my life, and had come to cherish deeply, was sitting on her front porch crying. I watched her, she had heard that I had died. If only I had stayed dead. My skin, once tan, was bleached white. My hair seemed to be a darker shade of black…and my eyes…once a dark blue, were now like glowing ice.
Her dark waves fell over her shoulders, and her creamy tan skin went unblemished. She was a lady—always into wearing her hoopskirts and applying powder, even when she was young. I smiled slightly. Then she looked up, with a tear streaked face, directly at my hiding spot by the apothecary. I moved back into the shadows, but puzzlement crossed her catlike blue-green eyes.
She stood up slowly, and wiped the tears on the sleeves of her new black dress and walked slowly toward the alley. My eyes widened and I backed up. “Stop!” She yelled, and began running.
She lifted her skirts and ran as fast as she could. I backed against the end of the brick alley and she plowed into me. “Andrew?” She whispered looking at me.
My eyes widened and I tried, but I couldn’t get away from her intoxicating scent. “Marilyn, get away.” I whispered.
She smiled, recognizing my voice. “I knew you weren’t dead.” She whispered.
Then she really looked at me. “My God.” She whispered.
I looked away, ashamed. If only she knew the horrors I had caused in the short days of my supposed “death”.
“I am dead.” I said quietly.
She took hold of my shirt and pulled me. I didn’t even respond. “Andrew, listen to me. I know what you are. You must leave this place. They will kill you permanently.” She whispered fiercely.
I looked into her eyes. “Why should I live?”
Tears filled her eyes once more and she brought her lips to mine. When she pulled back I was stunned. “Because I love you,” she whispered, and pushed me away.
I left the village that night, but I stopped by her home before. I climbed through her window as she slept—silent as a cat—and kissed her forehead. “I love you. I promise…” I swallowed hard. “I promise we’ll meet again, Marilyn. I promise.” And I was gone.