Immortal Is not Forver:SchuleI always thought people were like raindrops on windowpanes.
When rain first falls, the drops are separate. When they hit the glass, they sometimes collide and slide off to be soaked into the ground.
The raindrops that did not combine and fall are the ones highest on the window. They are near but alone, so close but not quite touching. They do not join to tumble to the earth together. Instead, they dry up when the sun comes out.
The raindrops that grouped together fell together. Is that how we are? Together we fall, but alone we remain until the sun comes and dries us up?
Those raindrops high on the windowpane live and breathe alone. They have no heart to give to another person, no warmth to share. They live in endless winter.
I wish I could fall down to ground to be soaked up by the earth, to actually be something. I don't want to fade out of existence as the memory of me is washed away like sand upon a beach, to be carried out to sea and lost. I don't want to be lost.
My Changeling ChildShadows danced across the room, cast by a branch scraping against the window. It trembled back and forth as it was pushed by the wind. All was quiet in the night-time world. Peace lay under a blanket of pristine snow.
Inside the room was striped with pale pastel paper and a few mobiles hung from the ceiling. Shelves line the walls, decked with toys and stuffed animals. The floor was covered with a plush carpet that just begged to be walked upon with bare feet. The center of the room was taken up by a white cradle, a baby monitor set on a changing-table beside. No sound emitted from the cradle; not even the gentle sound of an infants breath.
The shadows grew still, anticipating what was to happen next. The window creaked open as if pushed up with invisible hands, letting in a chill breath of frost. Black mist slid into the room like a winged serpent to twine around one leg of the cradle, peering into the blankets of cloud-like softness.
A soft cry came, not from the cradle, but fr