CorruptedSecret

She has sparkling blue eyes that seem to go on forever into the depths of her soul, and blonde hair that curls around her lovely face. The delicate curve of her lips, perfection in the world, a slight color in her cheeks, contrasted against the shimmering pale fairness of her skin. She steps out into her kingdom, the snow falling in oversized flakes. With her bare feet, cold in the ice, small and petite, she moves forward, her eyes determined and calculative as she studies the sheer white landscape. The sword belted to her side, protection against those who seek to harm, ready to be drawn at the slightest hint of bad intentions. Her white, fu

We lick our wounds as our family thins out, the deserters leaving the rest of us with cuts to heal. We curl around each other, protecting each other from the hard times and whisper silently to each other as we fight for our future. With siblings gone, their true faces revealed, the rest of us no longer worthy in their eyes. We look to our grayed leader, the eldest of us and the most hurt of us. He bravely raises his head, and howls a mournful song for the children who've disowned him. We pray for their safety, even as they turn their backs, and wish for their happiness, even if they disregard ours. Our beta has taken lead, our father still t

He wakes me in the morning, kissing my neck. "Morning, baby." He murmurs sleepily. We smile to eat other, enjoying each other's closeness while we listen quietly for the telltale thumping of their feet down the hallway. I hear the noise, instinctively pulling my knees up, protecting myself from the morning tackle. They rush in, our beautiful babies. August, who celebrated his eighth birthday just weeks ago, and Celeste, who waits patiently for her seventh birthday this fall. He runs, jumping nimbly over me and landing on his father, laughing as daddy catches him and curls him into a bear hug. Celeste hesitates by the door, her natural shyness

Tick tock I watch the clock as another sleepless night begins. I lie awake listening, waiting for the silence to end. I hear a shuffle, a sound so quiet it's almost drowned out by the clock. I turn my head, watching in the darkness, listening again for that sound. The silence stretches on, the only noises are my breathing and the ticking clock. I watch the clock, minutes seem eternity, the silence making everything prolonged and monotonous. I sit up, tired of being awake in this silence, and swing my legs over the side of the bed. The babies are asleep, I can still see just enough of them to step around. I head into the hallway, and still no

I want to tell you that it's going to be okay, that I know you'll live through this and come out stronger because of it. I want to tell you that I know your smiles are false, that I know that your eyes are dried up. I can't tell you that there are other fish in the sea; I see that you don't need or want those words. I know that you are still hiding from yourself; I know that you fear asking the questions that burn in your chest. I love you, brother, and I will always be there to support you. Our mornings haven't changed, I still worry about the things you refuse to do because they've become meaningless to you. The comments you make, the ge

This morning starts out again as normal for this week. I wake him and watch as his sleep-fogged blue eyes open, and watch as those eyes focus on his hand. His face seems distorted, his eyes fighting to not show me the pain. In the end of his morning fight, his face settles into his mask, putting on a smile for the world that doesn't yet know what he's gone through. The smiles don't meet his eyes, I see them hollowed and empty. No soul, the fires put to rest. I watch him as he shuffles through this clothes, finding something suitable, something other than what he wants to wear. I see his eyes flicker to a decorative knife, sharp in spite of it