the essential death

I really should be cramming for my foreign language test tomorrow. Well, I'm not. I have no idea about this story. It popped up into my head. I came up with names. Oh yay, we have a few lines of dialog and a weird and ambiguous opening paragraph.

Now time for ever boring premises of the story. the girl might be a vampire. she might be a normal teenage girl. maybe a girl that was kidnapped? She could be the sparkling tooth fairy held captive for all I know. If you've bothered to read my other stories, you know that my opening are confusing and just plain open ended. Like a suckish opening cliffhanger in a way?

Oh, and I know this is flooded with sentence fragments. Yays!

The whole random thing about Bryce and Blythe, something dumb that came up in my head. And no, before you call me one of the most predictable wannabe authoresses out there, Blythe did not kill Bryce. One of the things I hate being is predictable. Especially when story writing. So this story might not make any sense to you, and  I should probably be studying instead of typing this intro you're probably going to skip, and just study for my test. Wow, there are a lot of run-ons and fragments in this stupid thing. Well, nonetheless, onto the story-ish:

the essential death

(random A/N: Wow I come up with weird philosophical and depressing titles for my stories)

There was a thick tension in the air; something you couldn’t penetrate. The air was like a wall standing before them, but just there. One could find it hard to breathe in such a place, as the air held words of malice, strung into something so essential for life. But that something so essential can kill you.

          “A small price to pay for a favor, Sophorina,” He tapped this finger against the chair, every period between seeming like another era.

          “What can you possibly do?”The words stated, dutifully.
          “There is one thing,” He looked up, revealing calm, yet eerie eyes, eyes that scared you to whim. The kind of eyes that can kill you. The kind of eyes about to kill you. “Kill him.” Those words were said lightly, perhaps nonchalantly, but they tortured 

a person until the last syllable was said and done.

~Chapter One~

“We are all here today to mourn the death of Bryce Kenward. We are all deeply saddened by this death. May he rest in peace,”

Blythe’s hat covered most of her face, an egotistic smirk placed onto it. So he was really dead? She removed her gloves and made her way to the casket.