Little Dreamer Galaxy :)

Let Bygones by Bygones Blink. And you’d miss it. An entire world, an entire realm, obliterated. Nothing stopping there. No business of mine. It wasn’t my fault anyway. I shouldn’t have said anything, of course it was my fault. I should have let Sif die. One soul for thousands. Why did I fuck up? Oh yeah, because of Ingrid, the little bitch, that’s why. That’s why I fucked up. And her obnoxious boyfriend who happens to be my brother—I won’t have it. I may have not cared for Jotunheim, may have said once I hated it, but as much as everyone thinks I’m a cold-hearted bastard, I couldn’t handle destroying an entire planet. That’s on me now. I’d much rather obliterate Zephenare and their fucked-up class system and child abuse…but then I think of the innocent victims, the children like me. Not so innocent anymore, Lydvor. Dodged a bullet on that one. I laugh, a cold laugh. It’s not funny. I just don’t want to be here. I wish there was a way I could destroy all the evil people and spare

ISN’T IT LOVELY? It seems rather funny that one can go on for so long, actively trying to forget someone, as they actively gnaw away at your thoughts. That’s what I, Arabella Weller think, on this dreary Sunday afternoon. I think of the time Alex had me over for tea. I think of what I said then, about being a writer, being poor. I always thought it would be lovely, wouldn’t it? A nice little flat above a storefront. Typewriter clicking, rain pouring, cat curled up on my lap. I sigh. It’s the dream I know I could never achieve. Not that I would even want to, sadly, I don’t know how to get on like that. Alex was right, I’m not conditioned. Curse my father. Oh no, here he comes now. I take a deep breath as I hear a loud knock at my door.             “Come in,” I sigh. No use arguing with him today.             He opens the door and stares at me, sitting on the windowsill. “What are you doing, daydreaming , Arabella? Shouldn’t you be getting ready for school?”             I don

I wrote this in January for school. It was inspired by the song "Common People." WOULDN’T IT BE LOVELY ENGLAND, 1996. Somewhere on a train. (ARABELLA, a well-dressed young woman not long out of university sits down on the train.) ARABELLA: Oh, I hope I didn’t forget my keys again. My dad’s going to kill me. (Enter ALEX, considerably less proper in demeanor and appearance, sitting next to ARABELLA.) ALEX:   Hey. (ARABELLA ignores him and mumbles under her breath as she fumbles for her keys in her purse. She finally pulls them out.) Oh, THERE they are! I was getting worried. ALEX: Might consider finding more than your keys. (ARABELLA playfully rolls eyes.) I hate this. ALEX: I, uh, I think you’re really— ARABELLA: I HATE this! ALEX: (To himself) Emphasis on “hate,” or “this”? (ARABELLA SIGHS DRAMATICALLY.) ALEX: Sorry. What’s wrong? ARABELLA: Oh, it’s just—my dad, he wants me to be a lawyer. (ALEX looks suspiciously at