"We tried to be better, but we aren't. I don't think anyone could last more than a week here if they weren't willing to do bad things." - Alba Reyes

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T-Fox
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N-Nopony! Ah was talkin' to nopony whatsoever!
[ *  *  *  *  * ]
"Come on, get up... It'll do you no good to sit here and grieve and think about Tony. It was horrible, I know.. And I'm really sorry, but I think you should just put it out of your mind. If you keep thinking about.. the past.. It'll only bite you in the behind. So.. please get up."

Colin knew Tim's heart was in the right place with everything he said. But for some reason, his friend's consoling did little to pacify the sorrow that he felt. He continued to sob, trying to pull himself together for his friend's sake. Poor Tim sounded just as distraught as he was. Colin wasn't sure exactly why Tim was so distraught, but his current state couldn't be helping any.

A deep breath. He forced a calming wave through himself as he tried to recollect himself. He sighed heavily as he closed his eyes, listening to the calming sound of the waves lapping against the sand, the roaring crackle of the fire burning on the earth. If it weren't for the bloody nature of this forsaken island, this would be beautiful, and serene. Hey, if he hadn't been kidnapped they may be doing this anyways somewhere near a lake or something.

"Hey, Tim." He sounded sullen and downtrodden, but no longer was the waiver in his voice. "I always used to sing when I was a kid to calm myself down... Maybe it will help this time." He forced the most fake chuckle he had ever had the displeasure of hearing. "Too bad my guitar is nowhere in sight..."

He took another deep breath.

His voice echoed, the lapping of the waves and crackling of the fire holding the melody for this particular song, playing straight from his heart. The anguish in his voice was evident, the raw emotion not only influencing the lyrics, but the power that the words themselves held.

"I was meant for the stage..."
"I was meant for the curtain."
"I was meant to tread these boards..."
"Of this much I am certain."


"I was meant for the crowd..."
"I was meant for the shouting."
"I was meant to raise these hands,"
"With quiet all about me...."


"Oh... Oh..."

"Mother, please be proud..."
"Father, be forgiving..."
"Even though you told me,"
'Son, you'll never make a living.'
"Oh.. oh..."


The wails that his heart wanted to make known pushed their raw emotion through the only outlet that Colin had left. His hands sunk to the sand, clenching at the white, coarse granules in a fruitless effort to cling to something real; something from before.

"From the floorboards to the flys..."
"Here I was fated to reside."
"And as I take my final bow..."
"Was there ever any doubt?"
"And as the spotlights fade away..."
"And you're escorted through the foyer..."
"You will resume your callow ways..."
"But I was meant for the stage!"


He sang for that which had been lost, that which should have been. He sung for his mother, his father, his future, his past. But mostly, he sang as an ode to one.

"Our pained and sorrowed cries..."
"That betray the faces we put forth."
"For those of us who draw breath no more..."
"And those of us, who move on."


Off of the top of his head, he just let his heart flow. His sins were not pardoned, there was no forgiveness for a murderer.

"I was meant for applause."
"I was meant for derision."
"Nothing short of fate itself..."
"Has affected my decision."
"Oh, oh."


"And from the floorboards to the flys..."
"Here I was fated to reside."
"And as I take my final bows..."
"Was there ever any doubt?"
"And as the spotlights fade away..."
"And you're escorted through the foyer..."
"You will resume your callow ways."
"But I was meant... for... the stage..."


He began to weep yet again. However it felt less for guilt, and more in mourning. The only thing he could think about through that entire performance was about the boy that he just took the life of, the one that should be sitting here beside them. Why did this have to happen? He sighed, burying his head in his hands, letting the sounds of the world take over as the perfect follow to his display of emotion. Silent tears rolled down his cheeks as he thought. Will things ever be the same?
Coming soon to a deathmatch near you:
Garry Brooks - Swave Countryboy
Jade Aurora - Tomboy Drummer
Jasmine Tolle - Pacifistiic Artist

Memories of those past:
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Youth and Beauty Brigade · The Beach: North