I wish there was a better place, a place where I can kill my own mother, and eat my own father. That would be a beautiful place.

Violence would be the epitome of the strong and weak, and the soulless would have souls once more because there are no boundaries. Hurt people would blurt out what they truly feel without the kind of exaggeration we do. People with difficulty towards the bisexuals could just shrug off their hatred. And lastly Bisexuals can just pull the trigger on those homophobic morons who berate them. Freedom. Freedom from everything legal... Freedom, a shame that cannot control a dictator.

We want it. We all do.

He thought about God for the first time in three years. He thought about his sins, people he had been with, and people that had hurt him. But all of them, each and every bastard or bitch has the freedom to put him down, leave him, and maybe kill him, that's what scares him the most. TO GET HURT. So in a fit of escaping such tragedies he decided to keep himself frozen. "I wish there was a better place," he whispered to himself. The people around him were too busy thinking about themselves to even hear such a faint sigh. "Me too," someone replied. It was Tarabitha, the schools most popular witch if something would turn out to be bad, they would automatically blame it on her. No wonder she replied to him, "they" said she was psychic. and a trouble to society because of her curses. "I wasn't talking to you," he whispered back arrogantly. "But I was," she said without even looking at him, she continued to write something in her black notebook. "I'm sorry," he said, finally an achievement towards his people skills.