(May I join? :3)

(Of coarse. ^.^)

(Squee! Oh, btdubs... Kanada misses Vayden )


Jade trudged through the undergrowth, tugging angrily at the desperate weeds that tangled around her checkered sneakers. She sighed, and wiped her hand across her cheek, smearing the eyeliner that was running down her face, dragged by her tears. She sniffed loudly as she continued that struggle with the plants that seemed to be trying to drag her away from the place she needed to visit. The place where her father was buried. She finally won the battle as she stepped onto the long, tangled grass, that looked like it hadn't been tended to in years. She looked down at her hand, and frowned as she noticed the black smudge on her hand. She dragged that back of her hand across her charcoal colored skinny jeans, before pushing her hand into her pocket to produce a phone. She tapped at it, and soon the oddly calming sounds of BVB where coming through her ear buds.


Jade walked passed the headstones, her sadness ever growing at the symbols of death. So many slabs of granite filled the cemetery, each one showing the people who'd been torn from their families. She hated death, and yet she wished upon it every night.
wishing for an end to the abuse she received from her mother, the ridicule she got from kids at school, an end to the never ceasing sadness she always felt. At the thought of it all, she pulled her comfort from her other pocket. A small pocket knife that never left her sight. She flipped it open, and pulled on her bottom lip, relishing the wonderful pain the blade brought to her. She looked down at the sweet, red blood that circled her wrist and dripped to the ground, staining the grass.


Another scar to ass to her growing collection. She'd lost count of the scars that crisscrossed her wrists and upper arms, as well as her thighs, chest, and stomach. She suddenly realized how white they looked, even compared to her milky skin. She finally found the grave marker that she'd been looking for. She knelt before it, and smiled. Hello, Dad. She said quietly, tracing her fingers over the name that had been carved into the stone. A fresh tear traveled down her pale cheek, pulling along more eyeliner. She didn't wipe at it, however. Instead, she watched as the silvery drop landed on the grass that was already beginning to grow over the dirt.
She never noticed the girl that was sitting on the ground. Had she not had her buds in, she would've heard the music coming from the iPod. That she too, was marring her flesh. Instead, she stared at her own hands as she worked the blade into her skin again, and again, watching as the warm liquid dribbled onto the grave of her father.

('Tis in The Lake. Titled: Help Me Block it Out. And, RIGHT? <33It used to be way longer since I had FIR and Get scared in it, but it was way too long, and kind of a hindrance, so I shortened it to only the most awesome band ever created )

Jade had been too busy drowning in her own grief and pleasured pain (Not sure if I worded that quite right..) to notice the girl right away. She drew her knife once again across her upper arm, purposely reopening a a deep cut she'd inflicted upon herself only a day ago. Her scarlet love spurting from the the cut and ran down her arm, and she watched it with excited eyes. as it soaked into her clothing, as well as the dirt that surrounded her. When she did finally raised her eyes, she jumped, and pushed herself slightly backwards. She hadn't yet noticed the blood soaking into the other girls top, and so she figured it was probably someone who'd seen her cutting herself and wished to lecture her about how stupid she was for doing it. She placed a hand over the wound, though her efforts to conceal it were futile as the blood oozed through her alabaster fingers.


Had she been staring at that, and not the stranger, she would've marveled at the contrast between the deep, beautiful red, and the whiteness of her skin. But instead, she stared wide-eyed at this girl who was standing..or crouching..behind the gravestone. She flipped her knife closed, and shoved it roughly into her pocket as she scrambled to her feet, not wishing to hear the angry words that were sure to hurt her. She sniffled once, and struggled to hold in the tears that were fighting to escape. She pulled out her ear buds with her free hand, ignoring the music that could be heard clearly through them. She had a bad habit of blasting her music. It was a winder she hadn't yet gone deaf. She pulled her lower lip into her mouth, and chewed on it for a minute before finally speaking to the stranger.
H-hello... She said quietly. Her voice was barely above an exaggerated whisper, and she wasn't sure if the girl had heard her.


If she hadn't, too bad for her. Because it would be nearly impossible to get Jade to speak another word. After witnessing the brutal murder of her father, she stopped speaking almost completely, only talking when it was necessary. She dropped her other hand from her shoulder sighing as the blood continued it path down her arm. She played with the hem of her shirt, the blood on her right hand darkening the black material. She resumed chewing on her lip, toying gently with the new lip ring she'd had put in a few days ago. She enjoyed feeling the cold metal press against her lip, and on her tongue. Most people found it strange. She continued to stare at the other, not sure of what she should do. (Bleh. Fail.)

(Eh. It comes in at a close second :3 And, yes, I did know. Sad, but, honestly, I like Joel MUCH better. His voice is beautiful. It's like, breath taking.)

Jade lowered her eyes, and wrapped her arms around her stomach as she looked down at the now blood-stained grass. She inhaled shallowly, not wanting to fill any space in the empty shell that she was. She looked back up, her own brown eyes searching the other's expression for a reason to fear her. What she found was what she'd felt for the past four months. Emptiness. She then noticed the scars, and the blood that had soaked into the white tank. So she was a cutter as well. After a minute, she gathered the courage to speak again. You can stay. If someone had walked by them, they'd think she was a statue. She stood, seemingly frozen, lips barely moving. Her nightly mourning session was finished. What more life should she show?


When she glanced down at her arm, she noticed that the blood on her arm was beginning to dry. Well, sh*t. She hated it when it turned brown and disgusting. When it dried, it lost is beauty. She frowned, and looked back over at the girl. She studied the girl's face further, and figured she was alright. She allowed herself to give a tiny, yet meaningless smile. She felt her hands begin to shake, and she knew she needed to satisfy her craving for pain. Slowly, she reached into her pocket and produced her knife, but didn't flip it open. Instead, she played with it in her hands, keeping a steady eye on the girl.