RainDropsOnStars's profile

whatever it is you think you are you aren't: a good friend, unique, well-read good-looking, or smart well now you know

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Member since
Sep 15th, 2006
Profile Viewed
492 Times
Last login:
Jul 18th, 2008



Newest Creations

RainDropsonStars's Latest Creations
Type Title & Info Average Rating

View all of RainDropsonStars's stuff

stories Before Second Period French
Published in Stories on 02/02/2008
5.00
stories Philophobia, Chapter One: Charming Bastard
Published in Stories on 11/21/2007
4.75
stories The Girl in the Hall
Published in Stories on 08/13/2007
0.00
stories Chapter One-Flashbacks and Set Backs
Published in Stories on 07/17/2007
5.00
stories Star Light, Star Bright (A Draco Malfoy Story)Pt 33
Published in Stories on 06/29/2007
5.00

Friends

Latest Journal Entry

September 1, 2007

A selfish, shiny new penny

 I'm stuck at the bottom of an empty crevice in the ocean floor. I keep trying to swim up to the light, but my arm is stuck. I could cut it off, but then sharks would come. I could stay until someone comes to rescue me, but I'll drown in a few minutes.
 I haven't realized until now, but I'm so deep that the pressure is pressing against me so hard I can barely move. My arm isn't really stuck, my whole body is just trying to keep its shape under the pressure. No matter how I try, I cannot swim anywhere.
 I'm so frustrated. I claw furiously at myself, then realize it does no good. All I can think is how pathetic I will be, if I die down here. I haven't had the time to do everything I wanted: I never made it to any other country, I never learned everything my dad knew, I never kissed a boy. So many people I've been rude to, I want to find them and apologize. I want to talk to some of my relatives I haven't spoken to in a long time.
 I begin to cry. My salty tears mix with the saltier ocean. I find that even after I've cried all the liquids my eyes have, nothing has changed. I am not needed. If I die down here, who will know? If I survive, who will care? Life will continue its course for the entire population, except for perhaps fifty people who cared for me, a couple hundred who will stop to think "I knew her. Oh well."
 What do I really have to look forward to if I survive, anyways? Just a life in a society created by a species that is greedy and cruel. True, some are giving, but none have led a totally selfless life. Nor have I. There is no point for me to live, other than to feel the guilt I will have if my family thought me gone forever. It will be hard for them, I know, but what person has not commited a selfish act before?
 I can feel that my body has little oxygen left. Soon it will try to gasp for air, and swallow water instead. I will die. Before it can happen, I speak my last words, for no one to hear, but for me to know: I'm sorry.

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