Okay so for English, we're studying the Book Theif. Our homework (I think its due tomorrow, but really I don't know) was to write a small story from the point of view of a concept (like Death in BT)

I chose Love since I'm obviously amazing (I have no want for relationships, so I decided to show the other forms of love)

Ahah well ummm I wrote a bit much and this is only one part of four I'm planning.

Enjoy? (Criticism and opinions are welcome)

-.-.-.-.--

I have always been quite the wanderer. I don't like staying in one place for too long; sometimes humans simply bore me. I am hard to find but easy to forget.

I rarely find those that keep me close to them for so long. In a way, I am like Life - I will look at you, very hard, and burrow a sliver of my essence into your soul, and there it shall remain. But I am very much unlike Life. I will not remain there until your time has come, and Death shall come and Life will reluctantly hand you over - or perhaps she shall be glad that you are gone, and there is one less head to feed. 

I apologise if that seemed rude. But it is the truth.

I do not just come over of my own accord, and stay there and stoke the fire for you, keeping the embers burning. No, no, that's all up to you. And the others too. Normally it's Happiness or Lust. The two of them have really begun to irritate me. They are almost everywhere - it's hard to find someone with me without one of those two.

And no, I do not shoot arrows at people's hearts and make them "fall in love". I do not work that way. The romantic love that most crave does not work that way. I do not work that way. I am much, much more than just some romance and sex.

Love does not always equal Happiness. True, Happiness may have brought me to you, but she tends to stray and shine her "rays of sunshine" over someone else. What he does not realise is that his sister (and sometimes brother - all a matter of perception) Sorrow likes to follow his footsteps. At this point, I usually leave and Sorrow has her way with the poor soul. Occasionally, one may latch on to me and keep my embers - which are being rained on by Sorrow's never ending seas - lodged in their heart. Sometimes it does not work out, and Sorrow leaves as I do too - but rarely, very rarely, Happiness will find her way back and tell Sorrow to leave.

I am not entirely a "positive" emotion. But I am not entirely a "negative" emotion.

Love is simply Love - I am simply what I am. Why can humans not understand that? I am not just Happiness, I am not just Sorrow, I am not just Pain. Yes, Love may turn to Hate - my half-sister and I have made it a habit to meet. I quite like her, contrary to popular belief. Sometimes we may chat over a cup of coffee as we watch the two - or perhaps more - humans fight and cry and laugh and smile and kiss and whatever.

Very rarely do I visit someone who actually interests me. Who defined all four, and often more, parts of me. Who made me equal in my strengths and weaknesses, and who understood that I was really, quite complex. I've met some before. But never really more than one or two at once. It was rare for someone to accept me for what I was.

There were four of them. After a while of studying them and chatting with the others surrounding them (surprisingly, Lust never often came around), I found out their names.

Kioshi, Alice, Arion and Ashwick.

I met Arion first.

Act I - Storge*

*love, typically between family members

Arion had been born into a family of four, lived with his brother, and either his mother and father. They had divorced when he was seven, and later moved to Australia together but lived separately. Surprisingly, Hate did not come to them - she said that they were already followed by Friendship and Trust, whom had taken a liking to the two. And they - Friendship and Trust, I mean - were not very fond of Hate - she tended to uproot their delicately placed seeds.

The German boy was not the kindest person you could find on the street. He was almost a polar opposite of his closest non-German friend, Ashwick - but he comes in later.

With blonde hair sweeping a little over his blue eyes, he resembled most of his family, although he was the only one with blue eyes. His brother, Chastis, was almost like an older, seventeen year old replica, if you didn't count the jade eyes and slightly darker hair.

The first time I saw him, he had only just turned nine and somewhat old enough to understand what was happening in his family. Sorrow visited him and kept him company for a small while as Depression came in for a quiet chat. Then Sorrow left and Peace took his place, yet somehow Depression remained. That was not quite ordinary at the time, but then again, Depression at that time had only just been a small seed. Sorrow came here and then, often unannounced, and often not for long.

That was also the first time that I had really seen him and young Arion lit the match for me.

Young Arion felt alienated with his inability to understand those around him - he had left Germany two years ago, but his English still failed him. He had one friend from the English school he attended - a girl the same age as him, called Faye. She spoke fluent French and her English was better than his from all the books she had read.

Young Arion was beginning to appreciate his family, and more specifically, his older brother. Although Chastis - nicknamed Chase, only Arion and his parents had the permission to call him Chastis - had always been skilled at irritating him, young Arion often felt as though only his brother could understand what he was going through.

A year later, I came back to watch. My embers had been shared with the now twelve years old Chase, and the two brothers kept them strong. A fire was growing, its flames licking at their hearts. I watched and watched, and soon minutes became hours, and hours became days. I watched them for days at a time, then returned to another part of my essence and then came back and so on. They really intrigued me. I was more suited to fleeting, and here they kept me close, and I was strong, and I wasn't with two lovers. It had been done before, but it wasn't often that I stayed for so long.

They had such a great story to tell - and it wasn't because of what happened in their time together, but rather what they felt when they were together. Years later, they would feel me. They would feel Love. They would honestly, and truly be able to look at me in the eye and say - "I know you. I know your positives and your negatives. I've felt you. I've seen you. I know you." I liked it when Arion stared at me with one slightly darker eye and was actually able to see me.

As I watched them for a couple more years, leaving here and there to check on my other parts, I met three others. I've mentioned them before. First was Ashwick, Arion's new friend. Faye would come back in much later. She had not yet intrigued me enough to stay and watch her. I hadn't even visited her yet. Then was Alice, and after them, Kioshi.

They really were quite interesting, those four.

They could really say that they knew me. All four of them. They had shared me with others, and didn't get greedy. I knew Greed. I didn't like her as much as the others, but I couldn't say I disliked her. I couldn't. She, along with the others, were what made me who I was. What I was.

I walked along the familiar path that led me to Arion's mother's house. The city was bustling, as usual. I recognised some of those rushing to work or walking leisurely home from school. I saw some dying embers, some raging fires, some gentle fires, and some dark and dead charcoal.

Skyscrapers and apartment or work buildings lined the busy, people-and-car-filled street, squeezing in next to each other and stabbing into the dirty white sky. There was no snow, only rain in the city which Arion lived. At the present, it was not yet raining, but the smell said that it would soon, as cold winds blew around and the clouds darkened.

It took a while to get to the outer "ring" of the city, where tall, stabbing buildings shrank into smaller, singular houses. Well, they were more like mansions - large, two or more story houses, most painted in dull shades of black and grey and white, with another colour rarely making an appearance.

I did not hurry. I liked taking my time - at least I had some. My existence, as far as I knew, would be immortal as long as people believed in me.

The sky continued to darken and the sun started descending to take a rest. It was not yet night - it seemed to be the afternoon. I had no concept of time.

As I walked, I thought small, philosophical thoughts that were deep and intriguing one second, then forgotten the next as another thought replaced its precedent. I felt distant, with nothing that interested me to watch.

I still did not hurry.

It took me quite some time to reach Arion's residence, and when I did, he was already home. The fifteen year old was tired and Sorrow was already there, Depression having attracted her. I greeted him, then watched someone I had begun to grow quite fond of.

Arion was already on his white laptop, reading poetry. He liked to read and write poetry, and he could play the piano with mediocre skill, his strength being the violin.

He had also once been an athlete, a skilled long-distance as well as short-distance runner. It seemed that the fact that he could probably not return to running for a couple more years due to an ill-fated car accident was what had brought Sorrow to him.

As I came to this conclusion, Sorrow waved me a goodbye and left to watch someone else, his deep basin already having found its way into Arion's heart. Depression said nothing and promptly disappeared, although I knew that her dark cloud was hanging over Arion's head, even if it wasn't visible.

Arion let out a gasp as pain surfaced in his left leg. The computer now lay desolate, similar to the grand piano in the very corner of the large room, as he dragged himself to his bed. Arion sat there for a second, struggling to push everything down as he pulled his legs up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them. His eyes started swimming, the beginnings of tears appearing at the sides.

It was only as he spread his legs and put his head in between them that it began to rain, both in the physical world and in Arion's head. The clouds started to cry, their murky darkness visible to the eye. Those who had forgotten their umbrellas began to run, and those who hadn't opened theirs up, of all colours and shapes and sizes, laughing at the unfortunate. Rain began to pour, and so did Arion's tears.

He hid his head, the blonde mop he called hair visible between his legs. Whether he hid his head out of shame or embarrassment, or for the feeling of security, I did not know. It was not that the others weren't telling me, but rather that we are not the cause of emotion. Humans are. They control them, and they created us.

As Arion continued to cry, I did not feel pity, or reach out to reassure him. I didn't know how either way. I simply continued to watch.

Pain erupted in Arion's leg, and he struggled to keep his sobbing quiet as memories resurfaced.

A room, white as could be with no specks on the walls. It was a hospital. A bend in the centre of the room, attached to an IV drop and heart monitor. A figure sat on the bed, blonde hair unkempt and mismatched eyes dull, lacking the energy to care.

A loud sob almost came out of his mouth, but he kept it down. He couldn't let Chase see him like this - his mother was at work, and would be home in a couple hours time - his brother would just tease him. He didn't like feeling, looking like or simply being weak.

Doctors, all in the same uniform. He couldn't tell the colour of their clothes - after the incident he lost the ability to see colours. It wasn't like being colour blind, but rather he had lost his reason. The world had no meaning, it was all dull - black and white and grey. Muffled words reached his ears, then the anaesthetic kicked in and he was no longer conscious.

Over the pounding of his head and the struggle of controlling his voice, Arion did not hear the door of his room being opened. He thought it was his dog, Claid, but when two arms reached around his curled up body he realised that it was his brother.

At first he considered pushing him away, telling him that he should just go away, that he couldn't understand, but he let Chase stroke his hair. The comfort felt better than being sad. The tears slowly dried, and Arion lifted his head, hair covering his eyes. He was still ashamed of his brother seeing him in this state. Chase looked down with jade eyes, said nothing, and simply stood up. Arion wondered if he was going to leave - he had every right to.

But he didn't.

Instead, the seventeen year old moved to the unused but well-kept piano in the corner, and opened it up. Arion had only learnt how to play it when he did lessons with his brother, but then quit them to pursue learning the violin. He never knew that Chase had continued on with them.

A couple piano songs later, some words, a couple more hugs, and laughter as Claid jumped on Arion when entering the room (the dog needed company), Arion could say something that few others could.

He could say that he had seen me. Well, at he could say that he had seen a part of me. One form of myself, as I constantly changed. Arion stared at me with his mismatched eyes, widening as he thought he was hallucinating, then watched as I looked back, blinked, and reached out. I placed my hand on the embers of his bond with he and Chastis, and willed it to grow. The fire became a reflection of me.

Arion had seen one of my four sides. And we both knew what that side was.

Storge.