[Narcissus didn't like being around sick people. Their very bodily reactions disgusted him. Coughing, sniffling, the gross sounds. It was an eyesore. Today was different because Narcissus was the one that felt as if his body were putting up a defense against him. The headaches, the soreness, the gross realization that he could hardly walk without ( Read more... )

[The large swastika loomed over him, it's once dynamic purpose far more cryptic now than it had ever been. It was the symbol of the Nazi power in his German home. Hitler had twisted his ideals of perfection on he and many of the his other school mates had become part of his camp of new, trained youth. As Abel Richter, Narcissus had spent the next ( Read more... )

[Since his photo shoot with Echo there was something almost human about the pretty Narcissus. He was vain, yes, but there was a side that could quite possibly let someone in if they filtered through the cracks of his perfect facade. The more time he spent around the little nymph the more he hated her. It was about breaking her spirit to bring ( Read more... )

[Narcissus had not heard from his family since he moved away at sixteen when they cut ties and funding. His father came down from New Jersey, a random invitation to see an exhibit at the MoMA art museum. It had been an awkward meeting, lunch and then his father left giving him a pat on the shoulder and words of praise. Something the man had never ( Read more... )

I got such good messages today! I got an email from my father, and one from my original dance teacher, and even one from my adviser and they were all full of positive things. Plus, my anatomy and physiology teacher liked the cookies I had brought in last class and asked if she could order some for her daughter's birthday, which was really shocking ( Read more... )

I was stuck in an elevator for two and a half hours with my pointe teacher and her six month old child. I'm alright with kids, but we were stuck between floors and my teacher was flipping out, and the fact that the little one projectile vomited on me really didn't help matters ( Read more... )

[Since the flowers things appeared to lift from this hateful depression he'd spiraled himself into. Yet, even with that prideful look on his face as he dressed for the morning (a ritual that was very orderly, a trait that could account for the life he'd lived as a Hitler youth) something felt off. His razor was nowhere to be found, so relieving ( Read more... )

That was such a disgusting thing to do. Those flowers have long since wilted and been thrown out. I can no longer smell their infectious nectar. Poison, it was like poison. I should have known better than to believe I was anything less than perfect.

Echo, your pictures are developed. You must let me use you again.

[It was no surprise that Narcissus received his own flower when he opened the door that morning to a bright faced young lady. Something in that flower disturbed him. These were different than the ones that he'd sent Echo on Valentine's Day. These were pink. The color of love. Something he only had for himself even now.

It's rich smell filled the ( Read more... )

[There is no sound save for the slight squeak of marker on paper and the sound of a chair being pulled out at first. Then, for a few moments all that can be seen is a very broken vase surrounded by water and trampled narcissus flowers, followed by a hand wrapped in bloody gauze which comes into frame and turns the camera to show Echo's tear-stained ( Read more... )