if you fight yourself hard enough you'll never win
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i made this at an airport computer! haha.



In Halifax, Kansas had found a small collection of candldes as well as matches in a small store that specialized in nothing in particular. It was in the early, early morning hours, perhaps a few hours past midnight. He'd been awakened by an unpleasant nightmare wherein Iskata had spoken to him, gray and pale. It wasn't uncommon for him to have nightmares such as it these days. In any case, he'd been unable to get back to sleep, and he sat in the hallway outside of this room so as not to awaken his family with his tossing and turning.



He had shoved a flowery scented candle into a holder and struck a match, lighting it with the awkwardness of being unfamiliar with the task. His book was open in his lap, and by the dim light he attempted to read. But he was reading the same sentence over and over again. Sighing heavily, he leaned closer to the wall, glaring up at the ceiling. He never thought his mother's death would effect him this way. They'd never been particularly close. But he missed her. And now the only way he saw her was dead and ghostly, in his dreams. Absently, he drummed his long, pale fingers against the wall, creating more noise than he realized.








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