Mine was the twilight and the morning. Mine was a world of rooftops and love songs.

She could never understand why creatures of darkness had the slightest interest in spineless human girls.

It__ so dark - as if all the lights are just there to make the other places seem darker.

Somehow I'd still managed to go all retarded at the sight of some handsome asshole with a nice smile.

Acceptance is the key to finding where my truth lies in the darkness.

There is no darkness when I go to sleep; the wicked, as they say, never truly rest. I see blinding flashes of desperate arms reaching out, I hear cries for help over the crackling of burning wood, the ashen remains and the gut-wrenching smell of charred bodies.