HUnewearl-Shiro

Dear Diary... It seemed almost unreal. The night sky was lit with falling stars, or so it seemed. In reality however, it was just war. Heh, just. It sounds like such a foolish word to describe it, but had you seen it, you would understand it. We had to run, and run, to make it to the safehouse. But I'm getting ahead of myself. My name is Tori. A regular, run-of-the-mill kinda guy living and working here. Where is here? Well, it's a small nation called Oliverosi. Nation is probably the wrong word, as there is but one single city, but it's what we call home. I'm not entirely sure how we ended up here, but I have to at least try and explain. I

He could see her now. Soft brown hair spread about her, glimmering dully in the moonlight. Her chest rising and falling gently in the quiet, innocent rhythm of sleep. Licks of a gentle breeze tickled their way past the half-closed curtains as the gentle thrum of raindrops pattered on the window, almost as if begging to ensconce her body in their velvet touch. He could see the shadows in her room. The piles of clothing strewn about the floor, along with papers and other trivialities. Such a contrast, that the angel that she was could suffer such an imperfection. It warmed his heart to see it, and his cheeks besides. The fledgling smile that th

He lay unmoving, but for his chest. Gently rising and falling with breath somewhat laboured. His body had been broken. Just hours before, he had been lain in that cold operating theatre, cut open and sewn shut again, in the hopes of becoming whole once more. Rising, falling. His chest kept him clutching to the frailties of life which had come so close to being shattered. There had been no complete reports of the accident which had left him in such disrepair, the only person who would ever know would be himself. A talented motorcyclist, he often took it upon himself to test the limits of his riding and his machine in battles of speed and skill