You Forget, Darling, I Am The Local

I Remember Hearing Myself Start To Whimper, A Five-year-old, Crouched By The Side Of The Road, Staring Into My Father's Eyes, Whimpering Because It Was So Dark And There Was No One Coming To Help, Whimpering Because My Mother Was Back In The Crushed Car, Not Moving, And My Father Was Lying Here In The Dirt, Not Answering Me, Not Holding Me, Not Comforting Me, Not Helping My Mother Get Out Of The Car, And There Was Blood, So Much Blood, And Broken Glass Everywhere, And It Was So Dark And So Cold And No One Was Coming To Help.

Love And Hate. Same Passion. Same Impulse

His Gaze Travelled Down Me, Then Zipped Back To My Face. "sorry." "focus, Rafe." "i Am. Just On The Wrong Thing.

Last Time I Was Sick, The Guy I Was Seeing Brought Me A Bottle Of Ginger Ale… And Expected Me To Pay Him Back For It. ~jaime Vegas

I Glanced Up To See Liz And Smiled. "thank You." "i Just Went Along For The Ride. After That Happened-" She Waved At Derek. "you Know How Blind People Need Seeing Eye Dogs? Well, Apparently Werewolves Could Really Use Opening Door Poltergeists.