Polo... Lets try again shall we?

You know Bell, but let me know if you need the form and I shall dig it out.
Here is my uber long start post(Aroudn 500words I think) O.o


Bella--Start Post??
by ~GirlehfromPB

Bella-
I sighed softly, trudging on when I slipped a second time something hurt, deep, much deeper than the pain that was from the fall. I pushed away the thoughts of anything deeper, it was impossible and pathetic. I closed my eyes for a moment, exhaling slowly, I could near enough hear the once warm air almost freezing and falling in icy droplets against the ground. I gave a soft angelic like sigh before allowing my eyelids to flicker, for a moment letting my right eye perfect the vision before I scrambled up to my hooves once again at the sound of another creature close. I let my ears flicker back as I tossed my head, instantly regretting the movement as I stumbled and landed right back on the floor. Ouch. I sighed heavily, hating myself, what I was, it was actually, physically pointless. I was worthless and defenceless. I could do nothing because of the way I was treated, the way he treated me, Though without realising it in that single thought I has d just blown all my locks open, the memories returning, the pain, heartache... It was horrible. I couldn't do it. I didn't want to, but my body went limp before trembling, I was locked up in the stories of the past, the memories viciously attacking my defenceless mind. I wasn't ready for it, and maybe, just maybe... That was why this was happening. It would give me the death that I wanted. Pfft. If there is some form of god up there he must enjoy my suffering for all that he ever did was make my poor body suffer, go on live the life I don't want, be stuck in the path to be attacked by memories. Things I couldn't comprehend... Moments I didn't understand... the pain, oh the pain. It hurt as the whip slashed, like a broken record, over and over, attacking my defences. I just couldn't do it, though in the next moment it was like I was out of my body. One of those out of body experiences, I could see my limp form; I was just there, trembling… Shaking. No one would come to my aid, I was worthless. Hopeless. I mean, I was either hated or feared or just tossed aside for being blind. Being who I was, but that's not my fault! It's not my fault my father used to beat me, my mother refused to stand up for me. It just wasn't right. I couldn't do it. John… I thought he loved me… I thought he cared. But he reminds me of my father now. I didn't know why I was suddenly seeing things from a new perspective. Though all the anger and hate was burning up inside me, the next moment I was back in my body. I ached, it all was confusing. I didn't feel right; I didn't know what it was… But something had changed… Something that I knew would be found out

He appeared from nowhere: An embodiment of smoke. Or so it seemed, since he moved with such silence that his presence was no announced until his shadow fell over her pathetic form, casting the mare into complete darkness, as though shielding her from the world.
Or perhaps… Masking her presence from the world that might save her.
The Cryptic Creation’s eyes blazed with flames as he glared down at the creature at his hooves, and it struck him briefly that it should be dead.
That it did not deserve to live.
That it wanted to die.

He would not oblige. He was not such a merciful being as to allow such a cowardly beast to take the ‘easy’ way out, oh no… But something about the creature intrigued him. He felt drawn to it, like a moth to a flame – only he would be the one to do the burning. He would toy with her, singe of her wings and rub her of flight, tug off her legs one by one, and leave her helpless and useless to die a flimsy, pointless lump. A cripple. A nothing.
This creature was fascinating… Most interesting. This would be his new plaything.
Slowly, he extended a foreleg, and brought his hoof to rest on the mare’s side, announcing his presence for the first time through the touch.
He wanted the mare to find her hooves… To run, like they all did. To run, and run forever, so that he could give chase. So that he could run until his lungs burned, and then run some more – and more… Until the poor, terrified creature slipped in a puddle of its own sweat and blood, and fell victim to his savage hooves.

Such was the enjoyment he took from life. A passion for pleasure, and pleasure through suffering… This was the way of the Cryptic Creation. The legend that had been woven… The thread spun.