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Lost of people have asked me to write a story...i dunno why, personaly i dont think i am that great of a writer, or poet or much of anything, but still everyday at least one person asks me to do something, so here we go i guess...i'll write a little and everyone can think what they want...

He ran a finger down his thin scar, it ran all the way from his left shouler to his right hip, he couldn't remember how he had got it...he just had always had it...he had hidden it away, scared of what the world would think of it, her had never let a woman get close to him, scared of her reaction to his scared body...He kept his body in shape, it rippled and glowed in the soft light of the candle aluminating his features, but still the scar twinkled white, ugly and red..pulling the surrounding flesh towards it, He sighed softly and pulled the shirt over his shoulders, buttoning it up and fixing his tie, the mirror showing a handsom man hiding the truth, the lies...his happyness...all hidden beneath a layer of thin cotton...

Yeah...well thats a start...i dunno why i chose to wrote that, i guess...because everyone has scars, everyone has secrets, things they keep from other ppl,...everyone wears masks, they take all shapes and forms,...i think sometimes people get so caught up in thier masks..becomming someone they want to be they forget the truth, no one remembers who we once where we are to wrapped up in our masks, thier are to many layers to remember our true core..and i think what scares me the most, is that most people enjoy playing out their masks, thier own truth, that the real truth is to far gone...i guess we all like to be prince charming, or princess Bella to much....but i guess that could also be a good thing...can never have to many Princess in the world heart