"Taking off my boots, I sink down into my bed and lay there. Staring up at the ceiling, doing nothing. I covered myself with what I had left of my sheets and drifted off into sleep. I woke up about an hour earlier. I made myself some...well nothing. I went to look under y pillow to see if I had any money left. Two dollars. Good enough. I put my boots back on and shimmied a oddly cute pair of shorts on, too. Turning off the light, I walked out the door."

I lurked around the corner of an ally, only to see a couple fighting, arguing with each other of what to do. I winced as the pain in my heart emerged, and I let a small tear seep away from my eyes. Turning around, back to my little shack I escaped to when I was younger. I entered, trying not to make a sound, even though, I live alone, been alone every day of my confusing as hell life. My empty coffee cup sat on my desk as my mattress was on the hardwood floor as always. My carpentering supplies on my desk, too.

Taking off my boots, I sink down into my bed and lay there. Staring up at the ceiling, doing nothing. I covered myself with what I had left of my sheets and drifted off into sleep. I woke up about an hour earlier. I made myself some...well nothing. I went to look under y pillow to see if I had any money left. Two dollars. Good enough. I put my boots back on and shimmied a oddly cute pair of shorts on, too. Turning off the light, I walked out the door.

Hello, I am simply an orphan, I have no name, no family, no friends, but have had many broken hearts, but have never dated or have gone out or slept with a guy. But I'm in love with one. I've never talked to him before, I guess I'm invisible to him.

I walked into the dinner and asked for some coffee. I took my hot coffee cup and walked to the table closest but farthest from him, my love. I sat down and took a sip. Hot, is one thing the coffee was. I stared at him his ginger red hair, and his stubble. He looked at me with his blue eyes, smiled, and waved. I froze, got up from my seat and tossed my unfinished coffee in the trash, told the worker thank you and left. This is the first time he has ever noticed me. I wanted his lips, anything his lips would allow for me to get close, but I couldn't. I stole whiskey and drank it, until my blood was practically like alcohol.

I sat on the edge of my bed and took the last swallow of the drink. I just.....just.....just. I felt something on my back. I touched my back with my fingers. That something was in my back. I twisted my arms around and over my back to get it. I pulled it out, a small scream went with it as I pulled.

A feather.

A blood covered feather.

My face went from confused to horror. I tore at my back scratched and itched scared of what would happen next. I tore my shirt in half from frustration.

An hour later I was standing up, in the middle of my shack. Wings on my back.

Wings, white wings, on my back.

Cupid.

I walked into the ally and stood in the middle. Breathing in deeply. Why was I out here? i went back to my shack and made a bow  and as many arrows as I could. I left my arrows and went to the dinner. Piled myself in the corner, scared. Scared of hate, of anger of everything.

He looked at me again. Stared at my wings for a few seconds and looked into my eyes and I turned away. If he couldn't give me love. I could give others love, couldn't I.

For The rest of the night I searched for people together, and I shot them with my arrows. I watched as the arrows turned to dust, and the person I shot fell in love with the other. The arrow turned to dust when I struck them. Every time it was either pink for passionate love or orange for deep uncontrollable lust.

By the end of the night I was getting greedy. I shot two boys that had a fight with a girl they were in 'love' with, I went to a dance underground, holding my arrows, I stabbed almost each and every person I saw, in the back, the shoulder arm, leg, neck, stomach, etc.

I walked by the dinner and stopped.  He  was still there. I quickly walked back home and sat on my bed, once again, but this time, an arrow in hand. I made the arrow trace my neck, chin, and hands. I asked myself, If I could make other people fall in love then maybe....

I took the arrow, sucked up all the courage I had left, and stabbed myself in the shoulder, thinking of him. I was hoping I would have enough courage to go up to him and at least talk to him. A blood-curt-ling cry escaped my lips. Blood was coming from my right shoulder, where the arrow was. I panicked and tried to take the arrow out. It wouldn't come out. I kept screaming, louder and louder every time until my voice became raspy and unable to hear. I just wanted someone to love me. I wanted him to give me his love.

I taught myself a lesson, that love to me, is greed.

A/N: the reason love to her, for her , is greed because she is cupid.

Third Person P.O.V:

Cupid, the nameless cupid, lay one her bed, blood seeping through the sheets. Then the arrow turned to dust. The dust was pink. Dark passion pink. And her eyes....

Opened.