“War doesn't negate decency. It demands it, even more than in times of peace." Khaled Hosseini
There’s blood everywhere.
It’s a strange thing to register, the blood on his fingers and in his hair and the heat as it carves streams across the plains of his jaw, splattered like a mist across his face. It’s in his eyes, on his skin. His ears are ringing and everywhere, everywhere the air is filled with heat and danger and searing arcs of rainbow colour, but all he can think is that that it will be a nightmare to get out of his robes.
All around him there are masks, a terrifying cascade of hidden faces wreaking havoc on a blood-soaked battlefield and Edgar can’t hear a damn thing, his wand is slick with blood in his hands and there’s a wheeze of pain as something constricts around his lungs like a fist. He thinks, perhaps, that it’s a spell but he can’t bring himself to look away from the crumpled body on the ground that used to be Albus Dumbledore.
There’s blood everywhere, but it isn’t his.
He trips on a limp arm, crashes into the mud on his knees and he’s never seen — he’s never seen anyone dead like this before. He’d seen his uncle, eyes closed and dark suit and cold, so cold, but peaceful somehow. This isn’t peaceful.
This is blood in his eyelashes and a head two feet south of the rest of it’s neck and blood and blood and blood and Edgar’s breath rattles in his lungs because he can’t seem to catch it and there —
His wand is up, a spell rebounding off of the shield he’d summoned with a thundercrack as he pushes back to his feet, back turned to the crumpled figure behind him and blood on his face. And there — just for a second in the masked figure standing before him, he sees hesitation.
Recognition.
“Who—” he starts to ask, breathless and trembling because none of this is right, Albus Dumbledore is in pieces on the ground behind him and the masked figure in front of him is hesitating like they know him.Â
Then they move.
It’s curious, how easily instincts take over. How they swat each other’s spells aside like it’s a choreographed dance he’s known since he could walk: they know exactly what is coming, when to duck and when to counter, and he knows — he knows he recognises the way they move, but his ears are ringing so loud he can’t hear anything and nothing makes sense and around him he can see the Order falling back, calling for a retreat as the wave of masks creep in. He ducks another flash of red — stunning spell — and his hand is poised, the spell on his lips one he’s never spoken out loud.
Retreat echoes distantly in his ears, as if he’s underwater.
His wand dips.
Hers doesn’t.
The spell catches him halfway through apparition, a pained gasp escaping his lips as blood pours from his wand arm and he almost, almost drops his wand along the way. It drops with a thump into the grass on the grounds of Hogwarts, and his hand reaches automatically to clamp over the wound.
He blinks, hazily, at the group of students who have stopped short, staring wide-eyed at the nightmare coated in blood before him and hearing them start to scream before his vision blurs and he sways like a marionette who’s strings have been cut, wishing he’d thought to apparate to St. Mungo’s instead before he collapses.
[ Gets back into character with my eyebrows and feelings, grabbing my brown over the shoulder school bag, shaking my head at the fact that it’s practically falling apart, papers and books sticking out of the front sides due to my lack of organization and lack of control I have over my life, making my way across the campus my eyes fixated on my cellphone’s screen as I head for the library to study my materials, mumbling a few words to myself. ] “ That girl is always doing something, it never fails. Every time I check my Time line she is always doing the most. I don’t understand.  “
. “ It was weird but we got into our ways. We talked. You apologized. I wasn’t expecting it but it felt good. I feel dumb as shit every time you fuck up and I let you back in but I love you and that’s just me.” .
 Man I’d be the last person you’d ever want to hear from considering the fact that I offered to never speak to you again in exchange for a simple explanation and you took it. Not going to say it doesn’t hurt because man, this shit stings. Would’ve been better if you would’ve stabbed me in the eye or if you would’ve hit me with your car because honestly that’s what my heart feels like even now. I can’t count the days you’ve spent living without me because there are far too many. Yet here I am contemplating on if I should make it into the next day or cut mine short. You seem to be doing much better than me, despite my prayers for your suffering. You don’t seem to be suffering the way I requested you do so. I prayed heaven down in hopes that life would eat yo ass alive and it doesn’t seem to be doing so. I guess I didn’t pray hard enough or God was busy or something.
 Part of me is still wishing you’d just come back like before but if I would’ve known, I would’ve just kept things at a hello. It seems like no matter what I did, who I cut off or how much I was there for you it didn’t matter. I wish I could say you never cared but at one point I think you did. We were both fucked up in the head trying to be in love and I don’t think that worked as well as I thought it did. Part of me is wishing you’d suffer the way I’m suffering with the thought of you. I think about you all the time and I know you don’t think of me. I wish I never met yo ass. You or that bitch. If I knew you’d fuck me up the way you did I wouldn’t have ever spoken to you. I wouldn’t have ever learned from you. It’s a never ending sequence of deleting conversations and removing emojis only to fall back on better terms again.Â
 I wouldn’t have ever loved you. I was in love so so so in love. We planned forever and it couldn’t come fast enough. We planned to elope and so much for marrying young. Never going to happen, huh? You weren’t even always nice to me but I knew you were capable of it. I knew you were so so capable of it. Our whole shit was unplanned but I fell for you pretty fast. Especially the way you made me laugh and your ability to make or break my day with your conversation. No one else mattered. No one else mattered no matter what they said or did. I picked you every single time. No matter who, what or when. It was always you and that’s what fucks me up. This shit is making tears well up in my eyes.Â
You’re always at the back of my mind, and every now and again I see something that reminds me of you. I know it’ll never be the same if you came back a second time but I can’t say I don’t miss when it was fresh. When you kept me smiling no matter where I was. When you were my reason to live. When you listened to my problems and just you listening helped. Now my problems are bigger without you. I feel like you were my covering, I put you on to hide and mask my naked raw feelings. I put you on to feel anything other than depression and I depended on you for happiness that you provided in rations. I remember telling you that I wanted you to take my virginity and I’ve never wanted that before. I’ve never offered it to anyone but you. I remember telling my friend that I wanted to give you a baby boy one day, because you deserved it. I remember telling my friend that I was crazy about you and she wasn’t too crazy about hearing about you every time I would bring you up because everything was starting to be so memorable.Â
I remember saying that I’d come and kill you if we ever broke up and I remember you saying ain’t no breaking up because we worked too hard to get to where we were. I guess we needed to work harder because you aren’t with me now. I remember that bitch bringing us back together on the final pedestal. I can’t thank her enough for that. She gave me my fix of you. I was thirsting and hungering for you and she fixed that. But this isn’t about her. This is about you and what there was once. I remember when you first said I love you. I remember keeping track of the dates. “April 20th, 2015” I remember you saying I love you and that sparked something with in me but I’m starting to feel like keeping you around or even wanting you around would be a liability for me and my self growth. I love you with all my heart, no matter how much I try to fight it. It’s November 1st, and I still love you. I can’t express it and I don’t think I’ll ever stop. No matter how much time goes on I’m always going to love you. I wrote about you. A whole page about your smile, that you hate sometimes. I thought it was one of the best smiles I’d ever seen. It wasn’t perfect but it was to me. I remember your throwback pics, even now I crack a smile thinking about your little middle finger. I hate to admit and my heart can’t accept it but it’s done. It’s so done. And I don’t want it to be. I don’t want it to be finished. I don’t want you to find someone else. I want you to stay with me and bring it all back. I want to do it all over again. You made me cry, twice and broke my heart two times. We had one argument and 3 phone conversations. One for 4 hours and we stayed up until 5am some days. You used to always pick me and I always picked you.Â
I remember that one time you said you nearly drunk texted me. I remember feeling regret about us. About the whole thing. And now I don’t. I don’t regret it the way I once did. I regret loving you so hard. I regret not loving you enough for you to love me the same way. I remember your drawing. I remember laughing at it. Even now it makes me smile. You’ll never see this and time will go on. I don’t want it to go without you without me. You’re the first person I’ve ever been in love with and I felt like you were my soul mate but soul mates don’t break your heart. I liked the way you loved me for being me but I became too me for you. I know you won’t ever see this and I don’t know why I’m crying or why I wrote about you for something you’re not apart of. I miss feeling significant in your life. I miss when you used to say I love you and I miss it the most when you said it out loud. The way your tone made you mean every letter. I miss the conversation. I miss your night time voice. I miss you laughing at my corny ass jokes. I miss you sighing on the phone at least 7 times. I miss learning new shit about you. I still have your email and I can’t stop feeling like in a way you’re still mine. I miss being with you. I miss telling you about my interests and you, actually being interested but all good things have to come to an end and I can’t figure out what you’ve taught me but you’ve taught me something and it could be 27 years from now, and you could still come to me and I’d take you back without a question. I miss being your polar bear. I miss being yours man.
 I miss the fuzzy little feelings and I miss my nicknames for you. I miss being “Beyanye”, your “Personal Headache”, your “Baby Girl”, and “Princess Gummybear”, I miss everything and I’d do it all over again just to feel it twice. I miss our “I promise, I swear” I miss you enjoying my voice. I don’t know what I miss the most but it’s one thing that all ties it together and I can’t think of it.
 I got a text today that sent a chill up my spine and my stomach dropped to my feet. It was from you. We didn’t say a lot but that was the fix. It was weird but we got into our ways. We talked. You apologized. I wasn’t expecting it but it felt good. I feel dumb as shit every time you fuck up and I let you back in but I love you and that’s just me. I don’t want to milk it too much. I still feel like we’re falling into the same pattern. You leave and then come back to me for a bit but I don’t know if you’ll ever truly stay the way I want you to. Our whole “us” plans shifted into “me” and “I” something that I’d never thought would happen. We loved loud, everyone knew. We loved and we loved and we loved..until there was shambles left. I don’t know if you’re back for good but..you can’t peel an orange without finger tips, right?Â
weight:Â 200 pounds from all the money in my pockets. $ike, 119.
hair color:Â Sandy Blond/Brown
eye color:Â Blue/Green
tattoo(s):Â Like 2.
Abt You.
hometown:Â Los Angeles
education level:Â Graduate student.
father:Â Walter Brendon
mother:Â Gina Smith
siblings:Â 1 older Brother
Philosophy & mission.
what do you hope to discover?: I hope to discover when is  the exact time and date a nigga gone hit this pussy? She gets no love. I’m joking. I hope to discover some self love and exploration. I hope to discover that people come and go and I just can’t keep holding onto a thread. I hope to discover what I believe. Like, who am I?
what about the universe fascinates you?:Â Everything. From the stars in the sky to the smile on a beautiful face.
what comes after death?:Â Life, heaven. True peace and understanding. Joyful noises and praise beyond compare, and happiness. Happiness that holds onto you persistently.
Love & relationships.
love, what is it?: Love is a fucking terrible horrible thing, and I hope I never fall in love anymore. Love is falling too fast and loving too hard only to end up alone in the end, love is poetry. Love is pain. Love is addictive and it holds on tight when it finds you. Like happiness in the after life, love is attached. You never stop loving certain people. As far as the word goes? Love is...deep understanding and feeling the existence of another person.
How can we be sure that we really love someone?: Your day gets better when you talk to them, they make you laugh, they take your attention. Make you feel special. The thought of them or your life with them never leaves your mind. You know you love someone when you deal with unacceptable bullshit because it’s them, and that’s what keeps you. You know what they’re capable of so you stick around with the thought that they’ll be the same person they were when you met them, and they wont.
What makes you happier in a relationship, sharing or sacrificing?: Depends on what’s shared, and sacrificed. I’m going to go with sharing because a hoodie that smells like the one you love? Is a hoodie that smells like life. Share everything with me. What scares you? What don’t you like? Share food. Share laughs. Share thoughts.
Life.
what is the greatest accomplishment in your life?:Â At this point? Sticking around and still finding a way to laugh and smile.Â
for what in your life do you feel most grateful?: I’m grateful for God and people like Chad that keep me laughing. I’m grateful for life.
how would you describe the next 5 years of your life in a sentence?: Can I use words? I can’t think of a sentence but I’ll say: Lit. Honest. Better. Spontaneous and... wiser.
