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Musicians/Music Groups Fan Fiction >> Avenged Sevenfold

The following is a work of fiction. Any statements regarding any person, place, or other entity (real or imaginary) is the sole responibility of the author of this work of fiction. Fan Works Inc. takes no responsibility for the content of user submitted stories. All stories based on real people are works of fiction and do not necessarily reflect on the nature of the individuals featured. All stories based on other copyrighted works are written with authors knowing that these works violate copyright laws.

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Gunslinger
By SteffiSevenfold

 

My fingers traced the writing scribbled fiercly across the page.
It was like he wrote it angry. Wrote it desperately.
The page dented with every syllable. My heart dented with every sentence.
I'm sitting here alone at base, off in the woods as we just got a slight break.
I got drafted four days ago but it seems like four years.
I already miss my husband. I already miss my dog. I already miss my friends. I already miss my carefree attitude. I already miss my life.
Lets read this page together, shall we?
Brian,
I miss you. I miss you so much, it's tearing me apart to bits and peices.
Why did you leave? Why did you get drafted and not me?
I don't know if you'll even get this. And if you do get this, I don't know if you will in one peice.
I hope you're okay. I hope you come home. Hell, I'm not even religious and I'm praying every night that you come home.
Ichabod misses you, too. He keeps me company at night; sleeps where you did. Where you will again.

I ache all the time. When you got that letter and left, you took my heart with you. Each time a part of you breaks, I break right with you.
I'm afraid for you to come home, though.
Will you be down to earth and filled with happiness?
Will you kiss my forehead and hold me, watching the sunrise?
Or will you be serious and a hard ass, always on the lookout, always on your toes?
Will you be jumpy and over protective, afraid that if I leave your sight for one second, I wont be there the next?
Please tell me you're okay. I can't live without you. You're my heart, my desire, my soul. You're what makes me
me.
And without you, I'm not me anymore.
Remember, baby. Guns linger.
I love you, Bri. Today, tomarrow, and always.
Your heart back home,
Zacky H.
You were upset when you wrote this, wern't you, Zack?
You were afraid that I wouldn't come home.
Well, I'm afraid, too. I've never been so afraid in all of my life.
I'm afraid that I wont come home.
I'm afraid that I wont be the one you love anymore.
I miss the warmth and compassion that you bring and I'm afraid that I wont want that compassion when I return to you.
If I return to you.
I'm not hurt, but baby, I'm in agony.
Every breath I take is agony. It's fire in my lungs.
Every look I take is agony. It's gunpowder soaking my vision.
Every turn I take is agony. It's my best friend dying.
Every time I open my ears is agony. It's the screams of a missing arm or a missing leg.
Every time I look down is agony. It's this sharpenal in my legs.
Every time I look into the pile of deceased is agony. It's my brother lifeless and bleeding.
Every time I let down this thick wall of mine is agony. It's my heart with you.
So no baby, I'm not really hurt. I'm in agony.
I miss you.
I miss your touch.
I miss the way you look at me.
I miss the way you hold my hands.
I miss the way you ruffle my hair.
I miss the way your fingers trail a teasing line down my chest.
I miss the way you feel pressed against me.
I miss the clothes you wear.
I miss the way you smell.
I miss our long conversations over a candle lit dinner.
It's only been four days and I miss you.
But four long days it's been.
Eighteen dead. One hundred thirty-six injured.
I have blood on my hands, Zack.
Would you be proud of me?
Or would you be sick of me?
I'm sick of me.
I've killed, baby. I've killed the innocent.
Our second day at war and I shot a baby and it's mother.
I'm a murderer. I should be in jail.
I should be in the agony that I'm in.
I'm glad I am in this horrid pain.
I love you, Zachary.
Wether I live to tell you one last time or not, I love you.
And you're right. Guns do linger.



Random one shot.
Inspired by gunslinger kind of.
Really bored and my foot is asleep.
R&R? [:
steffiFUCKINGsevenfold



 

The preceeding was a work of fiction. Any statements regarding any person, place, or other entity (real or imaginary) is the sole responibility of the author of this work of fiction. Fan Works Inc. takes no responsibility for the content of user submitted stories. All stories based on real people are works of fiction and do not necessarily reflect on the nature of the individuals featured. All stories based on other copyrighted works are written with authors knowing that these works violate copyright laws.

Please see the Terms of Service for more information.

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