*A slice of wind punched Falcon's cheek.

With each raindrop, it felt as if a rock sent from the heavens pelted him. Staggering along in the muddy, rain soaked path, his blood-shot eyes surveyed the area around him yet one more time.

Buildings without roofs. Charred walls in the middle of no where, the fire blackening the walls extingushed a long time ago. A donkey lay on the side of the road, flies dancing above it's corpse.

A scene of complete, utter, devastation.

Using the sleeve of what was a shirt to wipe the blood gushing from his head for the umpteenth time, Falcon staggered forward, himself tired both mentally and physically. Fighting to urge to lie down to join the decomposing mass around him, Falcon forced his legs to take yet one more step.

One more step...

Just one more step...

Yet, he seem to be unable to get away from his horror house, despite forcing himself to walk for what seem to be like years. The scene in front of his puffy eyes is always the same.

Same old destroyed house.

Same old patch of blood.

Despite trying his best to reason the cause, Falcon's mind can never comprehend the complexity of this issue. One moment, he was running on this hills, the next, he's lying face down on the mud, no idea how he got there, or why he got there.

However, that is unimportant, for all his mind is focused on is surviving. Taking that extra step. Inching his way out of this madness.

Yet another puff of wind knocked him like a sledgehammer. This time, Falcon's tired legs gave in, forcing his body to collapse like a building being demolished after the red button is pressed. Tasting the bitterness of mud on his lips, Falcon forced his last bit of strength to pick himself up.

Yet, his arms betrayed him at this critical moment, having found an empty hole in what was a huge bubbling pot labeled "strength". Falcon could only turn himself away from the vile mud, facing at the gray unforgiving sky one last time.

As his vision turned to slits, suddenly, a dark figure appeared. "The Grim Reaper?" Falcon, finding strength for one last bit of humor before he returns to his creators. Yet, this figure, despite all that's said in the books, don't look anything like Death himself. For one, he isn't holding that huge scythe.

Also, "he", looks distinctively, female.

As she peered down, Falcon saw that this she, was either a human being, or god is playing one final joke on his vision.

Yet, despite his 16 years on this sorry excuse of a rock, he has not seen such a beautiful face ever in his life. The rain, his enemy for the past few hours, was her ally, helping her black hair, despite it being matted, to glitter in the fading light. Even though her hair was matted to her face, the hair framed the curves of her face beautifully, despite the fact that it would spoil the image of 99% of the women in the soaking rain. The curves of her face, already enhanced by her hair, was nothing short of delicate.

But her eyes. God, her eyes.

Those beautiful eyes of the perfect size fitting on her face. It's like the hands of a talented graphic artist, using years of experience and his own talent to draw a pair of perfect eyes on the perfect female face. Those black Iris, almost glittering like a rare gem, held the reflection of his blood soaked face, he himself being absorbed in it. Allowing himself to be absorbed into the beautiful eyes, falling in, never wanting to come back out again.

A sight he would hold, as his eyelids fought the desire to stay open. Despite his best efforts, his vision dimmed, turned hazy, ultimately closing the shutters from seeing the image that he had been yearning to see hi entire life.

Not now.

Just a while more.

Just a while mo...

Darkness.*

Random story to cease boredom while waiting for downloads to be done so that I can start playing o2jam. LoL.
---

She texts you to say that she's breaking up.

What would you do? XD

It's something I collected/leeched off a forum I frequented (Gamefaqs' LUE, for those who care). As it was LUE, the usual replies were "Text her to say that her sister/best friend was better in bed", or the more serious "Call her to tell her that she don't have the guts to say it in front of you."

However, my favourite was "Call her and say, "sup"?", and tossed it on my MSN nick.

Some how, people actually didn't see the joke, and thought that I had broke up with my girlfriend. XD

Some how. Not only one, but several ones. XD

Even though I'm a cheerful guy, I don't think breaking up is something I would take as a joke. It isn't something to make fun of, and it is never, ever fun.

So....

XD