xPasto

Eliot was kicking and screaming frantically at everyone around. "No ! I'm not insane ! NO!!" Of course it would be eternally stupid to think he was, but he is. It's like thinking that death cannot exist without life; thinking that death is the opposite of life is being ignorant to the fact that death cannot exist as a substantive thing, in reality; however, death is not the opposite of life, it's just the absence of it. ?She was absent. She was not there anymore. To him, this absence was not of her alone, but of light. It was blinding, deafening; to say it was paralyzing would be the understatement of the century. He was lost. He felt in

They were all there; Michael, Eliot, Mary Ann, Samantha and Nicole. What Michael didn't see coming was the Troys being there. Alan Troy paced his way over to Michael, as peacefully as he can. Michael wanted to shoot him, of course, but he was so full of grief that all he could think of was his daughter's smile that he might never see again. "Mr Bennett, I am deeply sorry for your loss. I just wanted you to know that Joan always had her place in our hearts, and always will. We're just as devastated." "What do you want?" "I want to watch the girl I raised go into the grounds and finally get her rest." "She's not even yours." "But I'd spen

She was there. In his arms. As her eyes shot to the back of her head lifelessly. Her breathing got heavier by the second and suddenly slowed down to almost nothing. He was shock frozen. All he wanted was to take her in his arms ; tell her how much he loved her. But it was too late. Her tumor had gotten the better of her, and there was no coming back. Eliot stared for what seemed like an eternity at his now dead love, all blood disappearing from his face replaced by a heart-breaking paleness and stillness to his eyes. It was like she took him away with her. He reached out, stroked her hair as she was arched in her dad's arms. She couldn'

I looked at him straight in the eye. My head was swirling around like crazy, my vision blurry, and unable to catch my breaths. "Tell me what, Joan?" "Eliot, I.. You. I.. Ah. No. Eliot. You. Your neck." "What?" I CANT. I just cant. I cant live it like this. How am I gonna live with the burden of ruining him? But he must know. I cannot take this with me to the grave. I had to tell him, it's now or never. I couldn't say anything infront of the girls, not something like this. I am left, here, in the middle of this room, staring straight through my love's eyes, glaring at them, hoping to find forgiveness as I throw a bomb that will explode,

I went back home and I thought a shower, some hot chocolate and my cozy comforter would do me good for the rest of the day. There was so much that had to be done. I mean, besides the piling laundry. I'm not about to take this knowledge with me to the grave. Not about to bare guilt of the consequences of what will happen later. But how will I tell him? Eliot, baby-boy, you're the Anti-Christ? If I looked him in the eye now I'd only sob and I was already hanging by a thread to my last bit of sanity. I wanted him. I wanted him so bad. But it all clenched at my stomach, tying it to knots, my eyes blurry each time I remembered that birthmark I

I woke up,  not my room, but it was white enough to be familiar; the ER.  Outside you could feel doctors rushing in and out, people trying to grab anyone in white coat, and nurses running in with piles of paper, blood bags and sometimes portable x-rays. I looked around, my dad was right next to me, his fingers brushing my hair. Eliot was there, his hands squeezing mine softly; hard enough for me to feel his warmth and soft enough not to hurt me. Sam, Nicki and Mary were there, obviously. Sam was staring at me with so much anger; "Told ya not to put sugar in your cereal!" My dad uttered what might've been a chuckle, or

I just stared at it, but I didn't mind. I wasn't gonna let this moment slip away. He took me in his arms as he slid my shirt off in between kisses. He was caressing my body. I'm not sure where this is going, but his skin was brushing hard against my body, and it was sending chills down my spine. His hands were going up and down my body, until he found the spot, he took everything off of me and suddenly I was moaning. First in pain, but then I realized that rush, I was tensing with every stroke. But what the fuck was I doing? He's the fucking Anti-Christ ! He was going in, deeper each time, but I felt something was wrong. I could not be doi

My head was burning with pain. This damned possibility got a whole lot of other possibilities in my head too. The fact that I actually think Eliot might be the Anti Christ was nothing more than proof that I believe in the Anti Christ as an entity that exists. Did I?? Do I? Is the love of my life a long prophesied demon?? I started laughing hysterically at my own madness. This was so creepy, the fact that my mentality was going somewhere I though never existed, a path I never crossed. Was the tumor really getting to me? Like, actually effecting my thinking stability? This is gonna be crap... I need my old life. I want some normality back.

We got rid of the dog and the man kept apologizing a lot for what happened but suddenly stopped and stared at Eliot. "What's your name, son?" "Um,huh? Eliot. Eliot Hudson." "Are you Italian?" "No. I was born there but I moved to Canada instantly and I'm Canadian." "Okay. Take care." "What? Okay." The man left with this look, I heard the little girl whisper to him "Is it him?" "Nevermind, sweetheart, nevermind." Things were getting so clear now; and yet they were so blurred. I had no idea what to think, or what to believe. Do I even believe in the anti Christ that I might actually believe in this possibility? My mind was literally