![.[.Ally.].[.Dean.].[Sham.]. Avatar](http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y25/skittypitter/avvies/continued/vampire.jpg)
Post by .[.Ally.].[.Dean.].[Sham.]. on Apr 2, 2006 20:41:09 GMT -5
.I Look Alive.
.I'm Dead Inside.
.My Heart Has Holes.
.And Black Blood Flows.
.We'll Do Some Drugs.
.We'll Fall In Love.
.And Get fucked Up.
While The World Just Shrugs.
.With No Thought Logically.
.We're Wondering The Streets So Aimlessly.
.I Hate To See These Kids Just Being Put Down So Painlessly.
.And People Say You Dye Your Hair And Wear Tight Jeans.
.That Doesn't Mean.
.That You Can't Scream.
.Or Like Loud Noise.
.You Got A Choice,
.You Have A Voice.
.And Just Because You showed No Love And Hate On Us .
.You fucked Our Trust.
.Now Watch Me Thrust This Knife Called Lust.
.Into My Chest Until It Bust.
Slim fingers were wrapped lightly around a glass bottle, the amber liquid visable through the green tinted glass. Her path was generally straight; she wasn't that drunk. This was only her second beer and she just opened it. And anyways, it took more than one beer to make her completely wasted. There was a small amount of broken glass a few feet away from where she paced, prooving the fact this wasn't her first. What, was she supposed to set the bottle down carefully and make sure it wouldn't disturb anyone in the future? No, at least throwing it at the wall brought her some amusement. She had aimed for the corner, something she usually did with her empty bottles. Ok, not always a corner, but some marker. She had gotten closer than she'd expected, even though it didn't exactly hit it. It was pretty obvious she wouldn't be able to hit her target with the next bottle: her aim didn't improve at all when she got drunker.
Ally lifted the bottle to her lips, taking a small sip of it. She wasn't a heavy drinker, though she liked to have a good time. That was pretty hard to achieve when clean, though. Couldn't tell you why, but it just was with Ally. She was more moody when not on anything, even though she wasn't as bad when smoking a cigarette. It was apparent she had addiction problems, but it didn't bother her at all. Ally always went by the fact you had one life. If you stay clean your whole life how'd you expect to have fun? And anyways it wasn't like she'd care much if she died because of her subtance abuse. It wasn't like anyone else'd care. It's jsut be the death of another druggie, not like anyone cares about those.
Her vision was overall clear still, even though the line she was walking in got crooked. She left the area she had been in, turning strolling aimlessly around the warehouse. This was the first time she'd been there so there was a lot for her to check out. Not like she needed to check it out, though she figured it'd be more fun than just pacing in a small square-like thing. Sighing lightly, Ally drained the rest of bottle #2, staring at the green glass of the bottle. She threw it somewhat weakly at the closest wall, laughing generally loudly as the bottle shattered. Yes, it was all so amusing for Ally.
It was obvious she had no respect for a place like a church. Why should she? The the first (and last) time Ally went into a church was when she was forced to by an overly religious foster parent. She ended up making a scene by lighting something on fire after the sermon, which led to her being abandoned by the foster parent. The sad part was it was only her second day with that woman. Actually, it wasn't sad at all to Ally: instead quite amusing. She had made it a game, you know, which foster parent would disown her fastest. She had only lasted a day in one house, that was the fastest. That was because she swore infront of the younger foster children, got drunk off her foster father's beer and ended up lighting a fire in a waste basket. It was fun, she had done all that stuff on purpose. Ok, so she hadn't intended on lighting a fire in a waste basket, but that usually happened when she was drunk. That's why when she came here she decided to leave her lighter back home. Figured it's be a better idea to go without lighting something than spend a little time in a jail cell due to burning a building down. That wouldn't be much fun, would it?
Giggling lightly, the female grasped the edge window sill, ignoring the small pain that came as her fingers pressed down against the pieces of shattered glass that covered it. The glass didn't break the skin on her fingers,: something that was prooven once she removed her hand. Back leaned against the wall, the female brought her knees up to her chest. A slight rocking motion was given, fingers linking with eachother around her legs. A case of about 4 bottles sat beside her, eyes resting upon it. She was drunk, though not completely wasted. Just tipsy, to say the least. Yeah, she could drink more, though was unsure if she felt like passing out in an abandoned building. Would that be much fun? Who knows, it might be more than it sounds.
[/size][/center].I'm Dead Inside.
.My Heart Has Holes.
.And Black Blood Flows.
.We'll Do Some Drugs.
.We'll Fall In Love.
.And Get fucked Up.
While The World Just Shrugs.
.With No Thought Logically.
.We're Wondering The Streets So Aimlessly.
.I Hate To See These Kids Just Being Put Down So Painlessly.
.And People Say You Dye Your Hair And Wear Tight Jeans.
.That Doesn't Mean.
.That You Can't Scream.
.Or Like Loud Noise.
.You Got A Choice,
.You Have A Voice.
.And Just Because You showed No Love And Hate On Us .
.You fucked Our Trust.
.Now Watch Me Thrust This Knife Called Lust.
.Into My Chest Until It Bust.
Slim fingers were wrapped lightly around a glass bottle, the amber liquid visable through the green tinted glass. Her path was generally straight; she wasn't that drunk. This was only her second beer and she just opened it. And anyways, it took more than one beer to make her completely wasted. There was a small amount of broken glass a few feet away from where she paced, prooving the fact this wasn't her first. What, was she supposed to set the bottle down carefully and make sure it wouldn't disturb anyone in the future? No, at least throwing it at the wall brought her some amusement. She had aimed for the corner, something she usually did with her empty bottles. Ok, not always a corner, but some marker. She had gotten closer than she'd expected, even though it didn't exactly hit it. It was pretty obvious she wouldn't be able to hit her target with the next bottle: her aim didn't improve at all when she got drunker.
Ally lifted the bottle to her lips, taking a small sip of it. She wasn't a heavy drinker, though she liked to have a good time. That was pretty hard to achieve when clean, though. Couldn't tell you why, but it just was with Ally. She was more moody when not on anything, even though she wasn't as bad when smoking a cigarette. It was apparent she had addiction problems, but it didn't bother her at all. Ally always went by the fact you had one life. If you stay clean your whole life how'd you expect to have fun? And anyways it wasn't like she'd care much if she died because of her subtance abuse. It wasn't like anyone else'd care. It's jsut be the death of another druggie, not like anyone cares about those.
Her vision was overall clear still, even though the line she was walking in got crooked. She left the area she had been in, turning strolling aimlessly around the warehouse. This was the first time she'd been there so there was a lot for her to check out. Not like she needed to check it out, though she figured it'd be more fun than just pacing in a small square-like thing. Sighing lightly, Ally drained the rest of bottle #2, staring at the green glass of the bottle. She threw it somewhat weakly at the closest wall, laughing generally loudly as the bottle shattered. Yes, it was all so amusing for Ally.
It was obvious she had no respect for a place like a church. Why should she? The the first (and last) time Ally went into a church was when she was forced to by an overly religious foster parent. She ended up making a scene by lighting something on fire after the sermon, which led to her being abandoned by the foster parent. The sad part was it was only her second day with that woman. Actually, it wasn't sad at all to Ally: instead quite amusing. She had made it a game, you know, which foster parent would disown her fastest. She had only lasted a day in one house, that was the fastest. That was because she swore infront of the younger foster children, got drunk off her foster father's beer and ended up lighting a fire in a waste basket. It was fun, she had done all that stuff on purpose. Ok, so she hadn't intended on lighting a fire in a waste basket, but that usually happened when she was drunk. That's why when she came here she decided to leave her lighter back home. Figured it's be a better idea to go without lighting something than spend a little time in a jail cell due to burning a building down. That wouldn't be much fun, would it?
Giggling lightly, the female grasped the edge window sill, ignoring the small pain that came as her fingers pressed down against the pieces of shattered glass that covered it. The glass didn't break the skin on her fingers,: something that was prooven once she removed her hand. Back leaned against the wall, the female brought her knees up to her chest. A slight rocking motion was given, fingers linking with eachother around her legs. A case of about 4 bottles sat beside her, eyes resting upon it. She was drunk, though not completely wasted. Just tipsy, to say the least. Yeah, she could drink more, though was unsure if she felt like passing out in an abandoned building. Would that be much fun? Who knows, it might be more than it sounds.
This Post Is Now Closed, Due To the Fact It's Gone A Few Days Without A REply And I Want To Use Ally In Another Thread. If Anyone Wants To Reply, Message Me And I'll Open It Again.