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*+:ļ½”.ļ½” . ā—‹ šŸ· ā™”.šŸŖž.ā™”. šŸ· ā—‹ .  t.ļ½”:+*
ā”Šā™”ć€€ā”Šć€€ć€€ā”Šć€€* ā”Š ā”Š ā”Š ā˜† ā”Šć€€ć€€šŸ° ā”Š * ć€€ā”Šć€€ć€€šŸ¼ ā™” ā”Šć€€ć€€šŸ“ * šŸŽ€
😔,😠
✶ 🩸 šŸ¹ ā¤ļø / āš”ļø 🩸 āš”ļø / ā¤ļø šŸ¹ 🩸 ✶
ā€˜Seeing Red (The First Day of School)’ by Zenryhao Everyone loves the first day of school, right? New year, new classes, new friends. I like the first day of school for a different reason, though. You see, I have a sort of power. When I look at people, I can…sense a sort of aura around them. A colour outline based on how long that person has to live. Most everyone I meet around my age is surrounded by a solid green hue, which means they have plenty of time left. A fair amount of them have a yellow orange tinge to their auras, which tends to mean a disease or fire; some tragedy. Anything that takes people ā€œbefore their timeā€ as they say. The real fun is when the auras venture into the red end of the spectrum, though. Every now and again I’ll see someone who’s basically a stoplight. Those are the ones who get in a car crash, or even a victim of crime. It’s such a rush to see them and know their time is numbered. With that in mind, I always get to class very early so I can scout out my classmates’ fates. The first kid who came in was basically radiating red. I tsk tsk tsk. Huh. But as people kept walking in, they all had the same intense red glow. I finally caught a glimpse of my own fading reflection in the window, but I was too stunned to move. Our professor stepped in and locked the door, his aura a sickening shade of green...
ā€?siht ekil gnihtemoSā€œ ,dias dna ,mra reh desiar ,delims namow ehT ā€?gniraew saw ehs dnabtsirw der eht ees uoy t’ndiD .noitarepo eht gniod saw I elihw deid ehS .no detarepo tsuj I namow eht saw tahTā€œ ,dias rotcod ehT .ni namow rehto eht tel ton did eh yhw deksa dna edur gnieb rof rotcod eht dednamirper namow eht ,desirpruS .roolf tsehgih eht ot nottub eht dehcnup dna nottub esolc eht demmals rotcod eht nehw retne ot tuoba saw namow rehtona ,denepo rood rotavele eht nehW .dednecsed rotavele eht elihw namow eht htiw dettahc yllausac eH .ereht nosrep rehto eno tsuj saw ereht dna rotavele eht deretne eH .tnemesab eht ot nwod yaw sih no saw dna noitarepo na dehsinif tsuj dah eH .latipsoh loohcs a ni tfihs thgin no dekrow ohw noegrus eno saw erehT .elpoep daed no decalp era sdnabtsirw der ehT .sgniht rehto ezilobmys hcihw sdnabtsirw deroloc tnereffid rehto era ereht tuB .ti no eman ruoy htiw dnabtsirw etihw a tsirw ruoy no ecalp yeht ,latipsoh a ot dettimda era uoy nehW 80 RAM

Warning: This item may contain sensitive themes such as nudity.

šŸ· ⋆ šŸ“ ā£ ā—• ā£ šŸ“ ⋆ šŸ·
The Red Wristband A doctor was working at a hospital, a hospital where the patients were tagged with coloured bands. Green: alive. Red: deceased. One night, the doctor was instructed to get a few supplies from the basement of the hospital, and so he headed to the lift. The lift doors opened and there was a patient inside, minding her own business. Patients were allowed to roam around the hospital to stretch, especially those who have stayed long. The rule was to be back in their rooms before ten. The doctor smiled at the patient before pressing the number for the basement. He found it unusual that the woman didn’t have a button already pressed. He wondered if she was heading to the basement too. The lift finally reached the floor where the doors opened. In the distance a man was limping towards the elevator, and in a panic the doctor slammed the elevator button to close. It finally did and the lift began to ascend back up, the doctor’s heart pounding. ā€œWhy did you do that? He was trying to use the lift.ā€ The woman stated, annoyed. ā€œDid you see his wrist?ā€ The doctor asked, ā€œIt was red. He died last night. I would know because I did his surgery.ā€ The woman lifted her wrist. He saw red. She smiled. ā€œLike this one?ā€
šŸ’˜šŸ„¹šŸ„¹šŸ„¹šŸ’˜
šŸ’‰ ā¤ļøā€šŸ©¹ šŸ’‰ ā¤ļøā€šŸ©¹ šŸ’‰ ā¤ļøā€šŸ©¹ šŸ’‰ ā¤ļøā€šŸ©¹ šŸ’‰
įƒ¦ā¤ā€¢*ā¤ā¤*ā€¢ā¤įƒ¦
šŸ’‰ā¤ļøā™„ļøā™„ļøā¤ļøšŸ’‰
ā¤ļøšŸ“ŒšŸ’šŸ’„šŸ’‹šŸŒ¶ļøšŸŒ¹šŸžšŸŽšŸŽ€
↱ ššØš§š£šØš®š«, šš’ššššœ šš—ššŠšš–ššŽ ā¤ļø šš™šš›šš˜šš—šš˜ššžšš—ššœ . ššŠššššŽ šššš’šš–ššŽšš£šš˜šš—ššŽ . šš™šš›šš—ššœ šŸ“ā€”ā€”ā€”ā€”ā€”ā€”ā€”ā€”ā€”ā€¢ą­Øą­§ā€¢ā€”ā€”ā€”ā€”ā€”ā€”ā€”ā€”ā€” šš€ ššž šš˜ šš ššŽ ↳ šŸŽø bio credits // m14!!
šŸ–¤ - ā¤ļø
ā™„ļøšŸ“Œ ā™„ļøšŸ“Œ
ā¤ļøšŸ–¤ā¤ļø
:::: :::: ::::::: ::::::: ::::::::::: ::::::::::: ::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: :::: l `:::::' l :::: ::::::::::::Ɨ::::::::::::::: šŸ±šŸ±ā˜ŗšŸŒŗšŸ­šŸ˜š
šŸ”“ - šŸ”Ŗ - šŸ”“ šŸ”Ŗ - 😈 - šŸ”Ŗ šŸ”“ - šŸ”Ŗ - šŸ”“
red emoji pack<3 šŸ‘ šŸ„©ā‚Š āŠ¹ĖŽĖŠā‹†ĖŠĖ—šŸŒ¹ā‹† ĖššŸ’‹šŸ’ā˜…šŸŽøā‹† ⋆ ĖššŸ“ļ½”ā‹†šŸŽˆāœ§šŸŽ€ ą¼˜āŒā‚Š āŠ¹šŸ„ šŸŽ€Ė–āŗšŸŽøā‹†ļ½”šŸš© ą³€ā‹†šŸ«€šŸ‘ ā‹†ļ½”Ā°šŸŖ“ šŸ–ļøšŸ“ā‹†ĖššŸ’ļ½” āŒĖ–āŗā‚Šā€§Ė– šŸŒ¹Ā°ā‹†šŸŽøļ½” šŸ“ā­’Ėšļ½”šŸ’‹šŸŽøā‹†ļ½” Ā°ā‹†šŸ“ ą³€šŸŽÆ ĖšĖ–Ėš.šŸŽ€ą¼˜ā‹† šŸ“ ĖššŸŽˆšŸ‘ ā‹†Ėšļ½”šŸ“Ėšā€§
♔【 š«šžš/š„šØšÆšžšœšØš«šž šžš¦šØš£š¢š¬ 】♔ šŸ’‹šŸŒ¹šŸ“šŸŽøšŸ’šŸ’ŒšŸ„€ š¬šžššš«šœš” "š²ššš§ššžš«šžšžš¦šØš£š¢š¬" šŸšØš« šØš­š”šžš« šššžš¬š­š”šžš­š¢šœ šžš¦šØš£š¢š¬
r/shortscarystories 9 yr. ago sp00kyscary They're just so darn cute I love being a 2nd grade teacher. The kids in my class are so cute and innocent. They're at the perfect age. I used to teach sixth grade, but I quickly realised how that it was a mistake, whence cliques form, the bullying flourishes, and kids learnt how to be terrible to each other. By then, they're corrupted by bad role models, no respect for authority and no desire to learn. No; 2nd grade children are far better! The parents are still making an attempt to shield them from the harshness of the world. They look at me with wide eyes, eager to learn, taking in all I share with them. My favourite day, is Valentine's Day. They make little paper packets they place on their desks to be filled with cards and/or candy. This year, I baked some delicious cookies at home and I arrived early to deliver one to each student. I’m so excited to see the reactions. I smile all morning. I smile as the kids arrive, dressed in red and pink. I smile as they happily tear into their construction paper holders to see what's inside. I smile as they give me an adorable thank-you once they see the cookies I've made them. I smile as they bite into them. And I smile as they one by one fall to the ground, shaking and turning blue. After all, they're at such a cute age. It would be a shame to let them grow up.
šŸ¤Ž šŸ’– šŸ¤Ž šŸ’– šŸ¤Ž šŸ’– šŸ¤Ž šŸ’–
šŸž 🦐 šŸ¦ž šŸ¦€ 🌹 šŸŽ šŸ… šŸŒ¶ļø 🧯 🩸 🧧 šŸŽ€ ā¤ļø
šŸ«šŸ§ šŸŽ€šŸ’•šŸ«€
ā¤ļøā™ž ā¤ļø|ā™ž|ā¤ļø ā™ž|ā¤ļø|ā™ž ā™žā¤ļø
šŸ˜ā¤ļøšŸ’šŸ’˜šŸ’–šŸ’—šŸ’“šŸ’žšŸ’•ā¤ļøā€šŸ©¹šŸ©¹šŸ“•šŸŽ²šŸŽšŸ“šŸ’šŸ„šŸ’¢šŸ’‹šŸŽ€šŸ’®šŸ’–šŸ”ŗšŸ„¢šŸŒ¶šŸ–ļøšŸ’ŒšŸ’•šŸ®
ā¤ļø 🧣 ā¤ļø 🧣 šŸ–Š 🧣 ā¤ļø 🧣 ā¤ļø
( ļ½” •̀ į“– •́ ļ½”)
šŸŒ¹ā¤ļøšŸ’‹
šŸŒ¶ļøšŸ”„šŸ’‹
https://clumsy-lilith.tumblr.com/post/695359408801300480 https://insatiably-red.tumblr.com/post/185044035871#notes https://insatiably-red.tumblr.com/post/184718523281#notes https://insatiably-red.tumblr.com/post/183248503726#notes https://clumsy-lilith.tumblr.com/post/187081942319
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