Akaashi's Journal

Akaashi's Journal(not finished)

A soft hush of wind fell upon the forest, gentle green leaves of the weeping willows and towering pine trees twitching with the sea wind, the aroma of salt from the east coast channeling through the Pandora. Ancient vines embosomed the crumbling bark of hollow trunks, birds chattered in the arching branches above, leaves slowly dancing to the grounds of the forest floor. The sun sat high and confidently above the slightly clouded sky, cotton-like cirruses blanketing the horizon as if a painter had thoughtfully grazed their brush across the sky, creating a painting for the world to see.

The world at mayhem, this existing consciousness of near extinction, the grief of not reaching a purpose in life, it was all a blur to the young woman as she muttered incoherent words to herself, putting slight effort into following the path ahead of her, though often stumbling on a branch that grew loose and fell to the ground, or slipped on another mossy rock. The path had become nothing more than an indent in the dark soil, leading to who knows where.

The woman could have been mistaken for an enchanted Nymph, her silky hair followed behind her like a flowy gown. The jet black strands of her hair seemed dull in the shade, but under the moonlight and sun rays her hair illuminated a dark hue of a violet purple, obsidian strands falling forward on the woman's pale face.

Her cheekbones struck out, a dim pink dusted onto her cheeks, trifling freckles blossoming on the girl's arms and face. Her long piano fingers hugged a forest green book, the edges peeling and the spine creased. Her knuckles were stained red, nails short but well maintained.

A lolita-style dress hugged the girl's indistinct curves, a soft cream color mesh see-through like fabric hung from the girls' dainty shoulders, her collarbone carved in her chest. The dress was laced on the back, the flowy mesh fabric falling gracefully behind the girl.

The way her dark, navy sublime eyes mysteriously drew luminesce, seemed almost breathtaking. Her eyes seemed mysteriously ethereal, dark and deep pools that coruscated in the moonlight. Her sharp jawline showed her athletic prowess. Her calm, inviting expression could leave anyone awestruck. The young woman didn't talk much, her nose practically stuck in a book, her fingertips curled against the edges of the book as she walked.

The young woman was at the age of 17, her expression always wore a tranquil tone that urged curiosity from wandering folk walking past her.

The girl paused, glancing up from her book to gaze around, her dark eyes scanning the undisturbed forest. She'd always come here to distract herself from lively worries buzzing in her head like an alarm barking at you to wake up, draping herself beside a random willow that seemed suitable for writing.

The grass had a subtle scent of lavender, the strands flowing with the welcoming breeze, filled with a salty aroma. The girl sank into the flower bed of daisies and wildflowers, scattered across the forest floor, leaves of bright drift to the forest grounds.

Melodies of chirping birds and whistling branches echoed through the enchanted forest, the girl's nipped nose almost already dug back into her book, sinking into the words she wrote. Her seemingly iridescent dress draped over the grass, her obsidian hair delicately glided with the breeze, the ripples of her soft waves rolling. Her nimble, slender fingertips turned the pages of the book, her drawn-in gaze scanning the pages.

In the small town of Northern Italy, 1940, life was so far untouched.

Businessmen drive through traffic to get to their jobs, the cities live with candy shops and clothing shops left and right, during the summer kids dangling their feet in the cooling rivers with cherry popsicles in their hands.

The echoes of kids giggling could be heard in the neighborhoods, chattering in the woods as they found sources of entertainment such as hide and seek, tag, and other innocent games that brought a smile to anyone with a faint simplicity in joy.