Warning: IF YOU WANT TO SAVE A GOOD 3 MINUTES OF YOUR LIFE, SKIP THE NEXT TWO PARAGRAPHS.

Okay, story of my life; I'm in gifted ed (entirely by chance of course) and I'm under a whole pile of pressure. Today (the first day of term 4 aft. A one week hol) I kinda forgot my homework and my favourite maths teacher (who is also the scariest guy I know) got like, super pissed and I'm not great at maths, so I wanted to make it up to him cuz he's really nice and helps me a whole pile, and so I got some worksheets and I covered it with notes that I need, or will die. It's a bleeding matter of life and death. And anyway, I came home at 6-ish and it turns out I can't find my notes. I don't remember when I last saw them (not strange, seeing as I barely remember my class lately) and I NEED them, and my parents are totally way unsupportive, like, all they want me to do is help out at home and when I complain about problems at school, they're like, 'blah blah blah we told you so' and I've just absorbed a bar of Cadbury fruit and nut (the biiig ones) and I'm feeling kind of high but I have a pile of graded projects due like, tomorrow and I'm under a lot of pressure from my groups (yes, plural) and I think I'm falling sick and something's wrong with my eye and I'm worried about my lil sis who's taking her board exams this year but doesn't seem to care much, esp. cuz I know that this exam is also a life or death thing, and two teachers are after me to help them with some work even though I'm not their subject rep and some twats are burning stuff and its giving me a headache and I don't know how much more I can take anymore and I just got freaking shocked by my computer!!! WAAAAA I'm contemplating suicide but I think even if I tried I'd be asleep by the time I landed. And it would be a totally un-cool suicide. I live on the fourth floor. Sighs. My life sucks.

Okay, now that that's over. I think I should warn you that these stories were meant to be sad, and depressing and overly emotional. The entire theme plan is about like, the emotions one has to go through in times of stress ect ect. Look, this is my analogy. A hero (cliché-ly) should be like a brick wall, and should stand strong and prevent the flood, but eventually, when the pressure become to great, he/she should crumble bit by bit. OW! Damn comp! anyway, I have a feeling that my characters (despite trying to look like a wall) will end up looking like a heavy fruit cake that was soaked in water for some time and then taken out and poked to death, like they'll go flop if you get what I'm saying, so forgive me.

Anyway, I own no one, Enjoy!!

STORY BEGINS HERE

The first one is about Tayend and Dannyl.

Tayend stood, back to the wall. The room was dark and quiet. His head throbbed with a blinding white light. His nose felt cold, colder than any other body part, and his cheeks burned red. His tongue felt thick and dry and he felt like he was choking. But he wasn't. He was alone, in a dark, quiet room. He was fine. Technically.

He, unlike most other character with a problem, knew exactly what was wrong with himself. He hated himself at times like these. Why couldn't he have a normal relationship of platonic friendship with another man? Why was he cursed? What had he ever done? He slid down. His gut clenched.

He felt his navel feel all light and tingly, he supposed that was what it meant to have butterflies in ones stomach. Today, Dannyl had asked him if he had anyone in mind. (A/N: That should give ya'll a good idea about what my time period is) and he hadn't had any idea how to answer. It was so scary, he thought, to be able to love someone so much, that it bypassed your own self-defense mechanism. He wished he could go out and tell the world he loved Dannyl, but alas; it would ruin Dannyl, and that he must not do for fear of hurting him.

He felt horrible inside of him, even wishing that perhaps, just perhaps the old rumours were true. But he did. He wished so hard.

He slid down and leaned his head on the cold wall. He had something burning inside of him, burning so strong. He just wanted to touch him, just one touch. Of course, he would have loved to do more, but one touch of that beautiful mans' skin could save him from this hell. Maybe it could cool his fever and calm his soul. Maybe. But he doubted it.

I know, abrupt end, but I've just discovered Sonea Akkarin and I'm too distracted to write this properly. I know I shouldn't but… ah well. R&R!