I need feedback
Posted July 9, 2007
OK JUST SO EVERYONE KNOWS, THIS ISN'T MINE. ITS MY SISTERS STORY. SHE NEEDS OUR HELP TO FINISH HER STORY AND JUST FEEDBACK IN GENERAL.
Apollo stood on the barren beach, realizing for the first time that there was no place in the modern world for either of them. Centuries had passed without a glance at him; his kind forgotten. As for her, creatures such as she never deserved a place in life anyway. He stared for a moment, taking everything in. The white sand, the deadly twinkling beasts in the night sky that modern people innocently call constallations. The ocean, a glimmering, moving mirror of the sky; frightening beautiful.
Then the moment was over and Fate was at hand. She had to die, he affirmed with a forced shrug of his shoulder. Hope, was a beautiful woman and truly it pained him to cut down such a precious flower.Resolved to it, he made his way up the beach and into the dense forest ahead, following the trail in the dark without seeing it, making his way to once hallow gound, tracing memories he wished could remain forgotten. Many things he once treasured had fallen to the realm of obscurity even to him. Some things however were not so easily removed from his heart or mind; Hope was one of them.
Countless centuries passed since Hope last deigned to come to him yet the bitter-sweet scent of jasmine covered every ince of the island as though she were of the earth. Much like the memories that lingered on him; one of the many reasons he never returned here.
It was her scent that drew him here to this heap of rubble once a place in his honor. he'd not been here in centuries, had harbored no intentions of coming back, but she was here, intentions be damned. Nearby, a fallen temple to him, the god of sun and prophecy went unacknowledged even by the god who stood before it. Apollo stood more concerned with the eerie feeling that clung to the area, and why. Signs of her pesence were non-existant, save for memories and her scent. He expected no less from the most clever flower in his once tidy garden. She knew the field well, waiting; hiding amongst the weeds to strike with her throns. He'd not spied her yet, didn't have to; she was close enough to taste. Now memories were not the only thing thst haunted this place; she did.
