He came into the lecture hall exactly at exactly 14:31. He was 29 minutes early. But it was okay. He liked it. It was calming. He sometimes dared to put up his legs on top of the desks. 

But not today. Today the place was abandoned. Not empty. 

The lights were off. Few pieces of rubbish here and there, revealed underneath the moon light that came in through the roof. The heating was broken. He suspected that he would freeze to death during the two hours, if no one else showed up. 

One time that happened. He was the only one that came in. Even the lecturer didn’t show up. Perhaps it was because of the college party the day before. Everyone always went. 

Except for him.

It was eerily quiet. The only noise came from the flickering exit sign. That seemed to speed up all of a sudden. 

It didn’t handle it and after a little lightning the sign burst into pieces. 

The doors shut tight. 

Before he was able to realise what’s going on all the chairs started ripping themselves from the metal frames. The screws were rising, floating in the air like little stars. The rolling up counter tops pushed him further back into his seat which was shaking like a wild bull.

He got up and realised that the room was floating around him. The counter tops dancing on the walls, the chairs floating around him as if trying to show him off. And when the lights started to flicker and hilight the most beautiful corners of the chairs, tables, walls and himself. He wasn’t afraid anymore. 

The room became alive for him.

For once he wasn’t lonely.


The Dark Angels.


Her lips were rosy. A little chopped. The mint of her green eyes perfectly covered under the blue contacts. 

It looked wrong.

It was wrong.

She didn’t understand. They told her she needed to bleach her hair. But they tricked her because now she was going bald. 

They told her she needs to be less. 

Her fingers shook. Spit on her freckled cheek – but you couldn’t see the freckles. Make up dripping into the toilet. Her stomach felt just like the time she got beat up. 

Her father was trying to call her. She was supposed to be at home now. But the phone now rang in somebody’s else’s pocket. 

At least hers was pretty now. Fashionable.

They told her she must fit in. She let herself be kissed. She felt dirty.

She was.

But she had to. They told her to. She didn’t have a choice. They would take her otherwise. She didn’t want to go. 

And they tried. 

Tried to let her stay.

But she was too important to them.

Her legs were too weak to pick her up from the floor. But how was she supposed to satisfy them? They wanted her. She understood.

They “did it all to spden her from the awful things in life that come”. 

They gave her strength. Just enough to go into the pharmacy. They must’ve loved her. 


They love her. Always have and always will. They’re the only thing she has. 

They “never ment no harm”. And so they “hold her”. Wrapped around her like a safety blanket that she desired. 

She took the sixteenth pill and she was finally free. Now she could live happily ever after.

With them.

The dark angels.

Aurora – The Murder Song.