Post by melody on Sept 1, 2008 16:30:22 GMT -5
The world wasn't exactly how he ahd imagined it to be, the corners scraped and torn, the inside just as bad, if not worse. It had been a terrible life, living out on the streets where anything could happen, dogs leaping out of nowhere to attack, muzzles already bloodied, acoustics brown with dried blood, swollen paws with missing claws, and of course, the wild looking eyes that darted from you to the streets, watching and waiting to see if anyone else would round the corner. Yes, it certainly was a dangerous life, and even though it was ruled by dogs, it still existed. And so did Calamity.
Calamity had been born into this world several years ago, and he was aging faster and faster, the world spinning around so that it seemed as if he was falling from an airplane. His tongue was pink, his gums a healthy color, as well. His pelt was a pure color, the purest it got. His own acoustics were fine, and any noise was audible to him for quite a way away. The only thing not right about Calamity were the very things that kept you alive in a place like this.
His eyes were duds, unseeing, useless, empty. They were gray, blind orbs that saw absoloutely nothing, as he had been born that way. They helped out with nothing, and were literally there for no reason whatsoever. And sometimes Calamity thought that he could see, but instead, his eyes were tricking him, and it turned out to be that nothing was there, and nothing was ever going to be.
He hadn't even seen his mother, but remembered her only by scent, her perfume smelling of dirt, mud, and evil. Calamity had been the only light in his family, and hadn't even known it until his father had beaten him. His limp was a reminder, as was the burning scars above and below his orbs, his gray, blind orbs. They were one of the only things black upon the dark-free animal. Along with his dirty maw, which for some reason unknown to him, he knew was black. And even though he couldn't see them, he knew the scars on his eyes were there.
For they burned with hatred every time his family crossed his mind, and they singed his world with hatred and anger. Two emotions of which Calamity was willing to leave behind when he passed, when his soul left his body, when he died.
