The District of Never Die

    Meiz was a little thrown off by his current predicament. Well, most normal people wouldn't really call it a "predicament" per se, but it was definitely one for him. This was so weird and unusual for him, sleeping in a low bed. It just wasn't natural, especially for a demon of such high stature. Royalty never slept this close to the ground.
    Cursing himself for accepting the stranger's hospitality, he rolled over to look at the filth on the floor. Good thing he had asked for a bed, or he'd be sleeping down there among the dust and the dirt. On second thought, he'd rather be sleeping down there than outside like he would have been if the man hadn't found him. At least on the floor in here, there'd be a roof over his head and a warm blanket, not to mention a completely vermin-free environment.
    And there was food and bandages. The food was surprisingly tasty coming from the common folk, and the bandages did their job. They kind of needed to, seeing as his wounds were pretty deep and many. He didn't remember much from last night, other than the arrow and a rather long fall to the forest floor. Anything after that and before hobbling through a thatched door, he had to trust what the stranger told him.
    As the sleep started to wear off, the pain set in again. He had no idea how many stitches he had, or how many bones were broken, but not even his thick royal blood would speed up his healing process. Groaning as an especially large spasms wracked his body, he curled into a ball on the thin bed.
    Apparently hearing his muffled moans, the stranger from last night walked in with a clay cup. He brought it close to Meiz's nose, letting him now through smell that there was nourishment waiting for him. Rolling the demon over, Meiz's head, tipping the edge of the cup onto his lips.
    "This well help ease the pain," a smooth voice said in Meiz's head and he felt an icy cold liquid burn down his throat.
    For the second time in a moon's crossing, Meiz passed out again.

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That was for linebyline The new line is "in a low bed."
I kinda rambled on there for a while >_<
It kinda resembles a story I started a long time ago about a demon royal named Koishii but I like the name Meiz =) and he's very stuck-up >.< more than I thought he would be when I started writing >_<
Anyways
I don't know what else to say. . . LAAAME

Oh, and the title has nothing to do with the journal at all, lulz

The fish swam lazily underneath the broken waves. Today was just another normal day in the life of these fish. No one had gone missing in their school, all of the families were still together, and there didn't seem to be any predators around. Plus, there was an abundance of food. It was a good day.

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Hah, that's just something that came to me when i was thinking about "underneath the broken," the new line prompt for linebyline. I don't think it will be the thing I post on there, it isn't complete, but I needed to get it out of my head before I could actually write something better, haha.

It was just a regular penny, a single cent laying on the top step of a subway stairwell. There was nothing special about it. That is, there was nothing special about it until he picked it up.
He was just a regular guy, another human being breathing the air of an over-crowded city. There was nothing special about him either. He just felt like picking up the dirty old penny laying there abandoned by everyone else. The Lincoln Memorial staring him in the face didn't even discourage him. So it wasn't lucky, who cared? It was a penny.
Standing there at the top of the subway entrance, unlucky penny in hand, the man looked around. A forest of steel stood cold around him, the harsh sunlight doing nothing to help reduce the humidity. A steady stream of cars rushed around him like crazed ants going about their business. The mass of people bustled along, never even looking up from their daily monotony.
The man and his penny just stood there soaking it all in. He used to be one of them. Just another face in the crowd, another meaningless individual in a sea of individuals. He used to think his life meant something. But then his perfect world fell apart and he caught a glimpse of reality. It wasn't as pretty as he thought it was. In fact, it was a lot darker than he thought it was. It had scared him. It had scared him so much that he didn't know how to turn back to his old reality. He was stuck in this world of hatred, of greed, of narcissism and gluttony. Piece by piece, minute by excruciatingly slow minute, he came to recognize that there was no blue pill to help him escape his real life Wonderland.
And yet here was this penny. An unlucky penny. Just like him. He was an unlucky soul in a world that only wanted the lucky.

No one looked up to watch the man put his unlucky penny down. Nobody saw him turn away. He melted into the uniform crowd without notice.

Abraham Lincoln stared blankly into the sun while sitting alone atop a subway stairwell.