• Love- Truth and faith describes love. Ways no being on our planet can describe, nor god himself. Love is to be described individually by humans themselves.
    Her life is in between brackets. She has no knowledge of the past, nor future. Imagine a creature as so. She starts at the beggining and ends at the finish line. But she always hears "death is not an option." She sits in her room, pondering greatly at this sentience when her mother calls out. "Get ready for school," She yelled. Fate gets up in her own sorrow and walks to the bathroom. She stands on the tiled floor. The mirror shines ahead of her. She sees someone standing there, frowning back. The woman has long hair, jet black. Her eyes are like purple pearls, shining, unmatching to the rest of her body. Her sking is ghostly pale, scary, and her lips a bright red. Carrying her indian harritige, she has a mark that looks like ink or makeup that starts at the corner of her left eye and trails down her face, neck, shoulder, arm, hand, and ends at the tip of her index finger. This is truly a birthmark. The woman looked at Fate, frowning. "Fate!" Her mother yelled. Fate sighs and walks out of the bathroom.
    But will she ever know who that woman was?
    People call her the Lolita Amaranth. She dresses in gothic attire all the time, heavy makeup, matching the paleness of her skin, platforms, fishnets, crosses of dark shades, and yet people say she is still an eternal flower. She looks like a banshee, but she joined chior to improve her voice. When she sand, people cried with joy as the words from Fate's mouth spilled out like pouring water. It sang in a voice we imagined only angels hold in their vocals. Poor fate was so nervious though, she stormed out, leaving no trail of her existence in the room behind her.
    She remains unhuman, immortal, fake, unreal. We believe she is a fallen angel here to heal our souls. But her stare will turn you to stone. Her gaze will frighten you, probably put you in a coma. Poor Fate never had friends, she was known as the dead doll of her school, she didn't think that though. She believed she was something specal, waiting to burst into color.