I'd like to meet:
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About me...
Birthday: October 11, 1987Status: Single
Location: Liberty, NY
Fav Color: Teal
Body Type: Average
Zodiac Sign: Libra
== Tri-Valley Class of 2005.
== Attending SCCC.
== Work at Center for Discovery...
== And I love it.
== Can't go a day with out singing.
== Majoring in Alcoholism & Drug Abuse.
== I like to observe people.
== Silliness makes the day easier.
== I love to smile and laugh.
== No one can change the person I am.
== Life is what you make it.
My loverlies...
Healing a little...
The malfunctioning streetlights flicker on and off, reflecting light off the snow and onto her bereaved, effete face. Thesmell of winter rides through the air with vengeance, as if battling with the harsh summer that swept the area earlier thisyear. The crackling of the ground as she steps, the screaming wind, and the buzzing of the streetlamps echo in the wintrynight.The cold, menacing wind tosses her hair about and wraps the locks around her face as she slowly makes her way down theruined, icy street. She pulls the hair from her eyes and abruptly stops. Out of the corner of her eye, she can see thathouse--that desolate, broken-down house. That house, once intact and full of life, now stands in shambles--a victim ofnegligence.
Examining the structure, she makes note of the changes that the years have brought. Weathered shingles barely hang from eachside of the roof. Where windows once existed, shards of glass protrude from their respective frames, like jagged, pointyteeth. The door--closed for four years now--barely remains hinged as the wind spitefully taunts at it.
She urges herself to continue walking, but her memories keep her captivated with the ravaged house. The wind seems to pullher, tempting her to enter. She walks down the slippery cement path, holding out her arms to keep balance. Her effort seemsin vain, however, as she loses her footing and crashes to the ground. Using the packed snow as her only leverage, she regainsher footing and stands up.
Carefully, she walks up the decaying, wooden, snow-covered stairs. She reaches out and swipes away the loosely packed snow,allowing her to grip the feeble, splintered railing. Trembling, she turns the icy cold doorknob, manages to open the barelyhinged door, and enters the house.
Standing in the threshold, the musty smell hits her--shocking her senses. All the furniture lingers like spirits inpurgatory, making the house appear still inhabited. Through the cracks in the walls rushes vapid light from the flickeringstreetlamp, illuminating only the living room.
She scans the room, taking note of everything. Cobwebs and dust thickly coat the television stand and countertops. The oncevibrant, blue carpet has faded to a dull, smoky gray. She takes no interest in any of this. Instead, she only focuses on oneobject--that couch. She sullenly approaches the couch, disregarding the creaking of the weak floorboards and rusty nails thatprotrude from the threadbare carpet. Much of the couch seems covered with stains and dust, leaving the memorable red colorindiscernible. The couch exudes the same musty smell of the room, only strong enough to make her retch. She gazes at theheinous piece of furniture reminiscently. Every thread leaks with violation--reeking with obscenity, polluted with the likesof that abhorrent, despicable man. Seeing the couch in such a tattered state seems to atone for the foul deed he hadcommitted.
A wolf-like howl of the wind breaks the silence, startling her and sending chills up her spine. She turns from the couch andwalks back to the door. Twisting the knob, the door becomes unhinged and the wind tosses it to the ground. That door willforever be open.
She exits the house, descends the staircase, and bears the journey, once again, on the icy, cement walkway. She stops infront of the house and gives one last long stare. The wind, then, takes hold of her scarf, beckoning her to continue hervoyage on the long, ruined street. Giving in, she walks away--leaving the immoral house behind.