He was a boy of the arts, not the arts involving paint and pen, but of the arts that exist within ink and words. He was well rounded among music, writing, and occasionally philosophy. A fair boy, not rich nor poor, not popular but hidden and kind. Coming from a well off middle class family he was taught well on how to respectfully treat others. Taught how to form healthy relationships and long lasting memories. A complete family, whole and mostly healthy. A well loved son and companion, by friends and family alike. He was good at heart, just as much on the outside as he was on the inside. A beautiful soul through and through, intact, a singularity, a bright calming light, like the sun but softer on the fragile eyes of people.
She was a girl of the arts practically perfect in every way shape and form. A life alone, lived as a child whose parents scorned her, which gave her a lot of time to master the arts she now creates. Alone, in the dark, unnoticed. Hidden from the world but in plain sight. Born into a family that loved but watched first hand as it crumbled right before her eyes. Taught the truth about love and pain. Shown first hand that marriages are temporary but murder is permanent. She was a ghost of the night, the moon’s shadow, and the stars all at the same time. She was a beautiful young woman and yet, her fingers still scratched her skin away effortlessly, peeling it back leaving exposed scabs and sores all over her body.
Both artistically inclined but worlds apart in their differences. However, it would be their differences which would lead them down this devastating violent road of twists, lies, and horrifying obstacles that lie ahead of them both. One who’s only mental and emotional, and the other...has scars as deep as the past they've hidden.