Blue. Blue is a menace, taking Betwixt from the battlefield. Blue is a traitor, causing uprisings in the towns. Blue is a criminal, murdering people without remorse. Blue is a mystery. Blue. She's nineteen, doing what other people can't. Simple as that.

My eyes tell me stories of what I could be if I leave everything behind and offer myself to the Ash King. Silken skirts, roasted dinner and golden finery. My mind swoons to picture those wonders, those tastes, that life. The life I could have if I leave the one I've chosen; if I leave Daus and everything I love. I'd rather be Selfish. I'd rather be Lonely.

There were seven of us then. We didn't go by names or faces, but by colors. By heartbeats. Because as far as we knew, we were the only ones who had them. As far as we knew, we were the only Breathers in the entire world. As far as we knew, we were the only ones alive. Turns out that what we knew didn't go very far after all. Non-Traditional Zombies.

Once upon a time, no one gave a fuck.

What makes a girl? Is it sugar and spice? Cotton candy clouds and rainbow rivers? Or is it that taste in their mouth as they grow; the brutal caramel sweetness combined with their jagged edges? Creative Writing Assignment: Poem I

This is the story about a boy, a girl, and nine others of equally opposite genders. This is not a love story. There is no happy ending within these pages. No magic wishes or fairy dust. This is a story about the end of the world; no one lives forever.

She's a rainbow colored dagger, his girl. And that's just the way he likes it. Oneshot. Pregnancy.

No one believes in the magic anymore, sweetie; just tricksters and fools. Oneshot. Eating Disorders.