XxButerNutmegxX

During an undetermined time period, in an unknown setting, there was a rather peculiar land of Reds and Blues. In this land, it was frowned upon to love others of the same color; Blues only loved Reds and Reds only loved Blues. But there was one vibrant color who did not agree with this silent law, a Blue named Indigo. Indigo loved other Blues. He knew he was not supposed to but he could not control his feelings for them. Every night, Indigo prayed to become a Red so he could love other Blues without it being wrong. One day, Indigo had an idea. "Maybe if I paint myself red," he said excitedly, "the other colors will think I'm a Red!" Indigo

 Is it just me, or is Algebra, like, the most boring class ever? I mean, seriously. The work is totally dumb, the teacher's, like, putting me to sleep, and the grades are just ew to the max. Who's even passing this class? Like, I know that one Asian kid is, Kiku or whatever, but I totally can't think of anyone else. Like, the only good thing about this class is that you can totally get away with texting. I've been texting Liet since, like, second period or something. Just random stuff, you know? Normal Boyfriend-Girlfriend type thingies...or, like, would it be Boyfriend-Boyfriend? Whatever, like, same difference. But you know what's totally

"...and I'm a good person, a nice, kind little boy. Right?" "Yes." "And I...my body, it's absolutely clean and untouched. Right?" "Yes." "And I am not Jim Macken, but Alois Trancy?" "Yes." The blond boy, formally known as Alois, was clinging to his butler as if it were for dear life. He sobbed into the older man's chest, as he has been doing for the last five minuets, and the other would try to sooth the emotional youth by stroking his hair. One could say this was a regular occurrence in the Trancy household, but for the sake of reputation, he would only let himself go in front of one person, his loyal butler, Claude Faustus. "A

I miss the falling of autumn leafs, Cascading down from strong oak trees. Red, golden, orange, brown. They land neatly by my feet, Before I crunch them to the ground. I miss the year-long smell of pine, A scent still untouched by time. Green needles covered in sap, Always sticking to old clothes of mine. They cover me by the time I nap. I miss the texture of morning frost, Even if it blocked the windows and got us lost. The frozen patterns brought me daily pleasure, But we'd shave it off or we would cost. I'd still admire that icy treasure. I miss the fun of seeing my breath. It was cool-looking, more or less. As if smoke or