ironicallie

Epilogue: K.C. Finally safe and happy in my own dorm room, I snuggle under my covers and pretend Joel is next to me. It is  a lovely thought. Inside my mind I can see a warm safe bubble protecting this love and I think back to before. Maybe it was a little more exciting, Joel isn't precisely my type but why wait for Mr. Right when Mr. Wrong might be perfect for you? A slight noise comes from the ceiling, I look around and see is the two sprites, Lady Justice has a calm serene look on her face as always, but the much more emotional sprite of mischief looks upset, his pointy ears are down. "I'm sorry K.C." he says with the woeful sound of a

Why are you taking me so quickly? It’s my life but I’m in the passenger seat Why are you pushing that pedal down so hard It’s raining can’t you see And I’m really not in that big of a hurry. The lines are whizzing by and I’m missing all of the rest stops But I can’t stop the car because there is no break on the passenger side And I’m beginning to wonder if even the drivers in control.

My stupid glow in the dark watch reads that it is 1:45 AM and I am staring at the wrong side of his door… in the rain. Maybe it was that the watch was a gift from my sister, or that the thought of knocking on that door terrified me, but suddenly I was transported to a memory in my parents' kitchen, ten years ago. Isa, my sister, was browning hamburger and I was hovering underfoot, not that she really noticed me. Isa was staring at that piece of partially raw meat very intensely, like, if she could figure it out, she would hold the key to the world. So of course, I started staring at it too, because I always thought whatever Isa

I watch people. It is just what I do. My friends say it is borderline stalking, I tell them they need to loosen up and get an imagination. Of course, they never do. Maybe because my friends are part of my imagination, and I don't think that figments are allowed any more imagination than one can stand. It all started when we were reading that book in English, by Dickens, you know, the one about the Revolutionaries in France and that guy is in the train or something and he is just looking out the window thinking about how everyone has secrets. Well, I don't know, I wasn't that great of a student, I hadn't actually read the selection and was ju

Dear Diary, My attempt at a running away failed. I must plan more, then I will escape. I think my first plan is not to try and bring as many of mothers clothes… Today I went to school, it makes me even more determined to leave. We had this "great" conversation. "Hello," Some annoying twit named Kara said. "Hi," I replied. "My name is Kara, I'll be happy to show you around school if you would like." "That's okay." "I bet a lot of people are coming up and introducing themselves to you." She laughed a little, "I have a lot of friends and sometimes they get a little annoying but it is better than nobody to talk to." She looked at me sympat

Dear Diary, My mom has officially gone insane! She is accepting a diplomatic position in… get this, Death Mountain. Who names a place something like that? Except a bunch of bomb obsessed rock-brains?! To top it all off she is working with that absolute buffoon, Darunia! He dances, endears the populace, and makes everyone thinks all Gorons must be complete morons to allow that sort of idiot in a position of power! It was bad enough in school, when I was first entering school, Zora's Domain Proper. All of the delicate girls were afraid to sit next to me. The guys looked at me like I was a freak… They would whisper, a Goron with clothes on is