Musicians/Music Groups Fan Fiction >> Avenged Sevenfold
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Draw With Me
It's snowing, but I'm not cold.
And off ahead, an endless wall of glass cuts the land in half.
I step up to it and touch my fingertips to the glass wall.
It's cold on my skin and my arm reflects in the glass like a mirror.
I look to the left and see nothing but snow fall.
I look to the right and there's nothing on my side of the glass, but on the other side I see
I find my legs running to him.
He's standing close to the glass wall, his palms pressed against the coolness.
He turns his head and looks at me and his bright emerald eyes hold nothing but sadness and
We're staring at each other now, face to face through the thick pane of glass.
He takes a step back and takes his hands from the wall.
“Can you hear me?” I don't scream it, but I say it loudly.
He leans closer to the glass, tilts his head, and cups his ear with his hand.
“Can you hear me!?” I'm shouting now, frustration clear on my tan face.
He lifts his shoulders in a shrug and shakes his head.
I look up to the sky, or more so to the top of the glass.
It doesn't stretch on forever into the sky.
I think for a second and reach into my pocket, pulling two small markers from it.
I pull the top off of one and press it to the glass, writing backwards to it look right from his
I mess up, so I scribble it out and start again.
I take a step back and toss the second marker over the wall of glass.
It lands on the ground of the other side of the wall soundlessly.
He bends over and picks it up and tugs the cap off of it.
He writes backwards like I did, so I can see what he says.
I feel stupid for a second and press the tip of the marker to the glass once again.
Next to this I draw a very childish looking cartoon of me, my brown hair a mess and a guitar in my
His marker touches the glass.
Next to which he draws a very lifelike version of himself, except the pictures shows him muscular
I blush and cover my face with my arm, my right hand pressing the marker to the glass again.
You don't even look like that.
And I draw a picture of a flat-chested, non muscular boy.
He makes an angry face and I can't help but laugh.
I sit down on the ground, Indian style, and he sits down with his legs feld under him.
The snow keeps falling, but I don't even realize it. I'm still not cold.
All I can think about is Zacky and our time we've spent together as we draw the night away.
Soon it's dark and we're still drawing.
Faces and people and fruits and past memories.
I frown and I press my hand to the glass.
It's freezing under my palm.
Zacky lifts his hand up and presses it against the glass, his left hand perfectly in sync with my
We pull our hands away and I press my marker to the glass.
He reads it and then looks down, a frown on his beautiful pale face.
I press my marker to the glass.
He smiles and leans up to find a clear space to write.
You are with me. Only there's a glass between us.
That sparks something in me and I stand up and pull my fists back and let them fire at the wall
After several punches, the glass starts to crack.
Zacky's standing now, too, and it looks like he's screaming for me to stop.
I don't care. I just want to hold him.
I throw my arm to the side, motioning for him to step out of the way.
He finally does, and I throw my fist at the cracked glass, causing shards to slash everywhere.
I feel so victorious. I can finally touch him.
I think so until the wall pieces itself together again, my hand still in it.
I pull my arm back to my side quickly, and I don't realize that I'm missing my right hand because I
feel no pain.
Blood rushes out of my wrist, and then everything spins and goes black.
When I wake up, it's day time again and Zacky's sitting on his side of the wall, legs feld under his
My arm is wrapped up and the only pain I feel is still emotional pain.
My heart throbs every time I look at Zacky's face.
He presses his marker to the glass.
I nod once and stare at his face.
He smiles and touches his marker to the wall again.
He draws a very animated cartoon of himself next to the question.
I pull my marker out with my left hand and press the tip to the wall.
My handwriting is all fucked up, wiggles and lines everywhere.
I wish I was left handed like Zacky.
He frowns and looks down, and his expression is heartbreaking.
I leave and Zack leaves, because without my right hand, we can't draw.
When I come back, there's a box on the ground, on my side of the wall.
Zacky's sitting in his normal position, a jacket slung over his body.
I step closer and sit down and read the wall above the box.
I pick the box up with my left hand and tug the strings away.
What's inside the box stuns me and I gasp while jumping away.
It's his. It's his right arm.
He touches the marker to the glass.
Off a youtube video and this story REALLY doesn't do the video justice, but it was sooo cute that
I couldn't resist.
Overall, it's two lovers , a boy and a girl, who are separated by an unbreakable glass.
The girl is left handed, and the boy is right handed.
When the boy finally does break the glass, it seals itself back together and chops his hand
The girl then cuts her right arm off and gives it to the boy so they can draw together.
In some videos, it has an after picture where the boy has the girl's arm attached to his body and
the boy and the girl are drawing together.
So, it's been over a month since I've written….anything.
I've been enjoying my summer to the fullest.
Also, I'm a bit peeved at a lot of the people on this website. A lot of you don't deserve the
So, I'm going to search stories by certain authors and if I normally review you, but I don't for
a while, then message me so I can read your stuff because I might have forgotten to
look you up, and chances are, I really want to finish reading your stories.
Ohyeah. My birthday was on the 25th *eats confetti*
I'm going on vacation tonight, and I come back on Sunday, then back to school on Monday, so I'll
update my stories…sometime within the next week.
WOWWWWW, long AN sorry for that please enjoy and please Read or Review or R&R or whatever
tickles your fancies, thanks and goodbye :'D
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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.