Author's Note: So... How are you guys doing? I really like this fan-fiction. I honestly have not written Labyrinth before, other than the cross-over, but I think this one turned out very well.

I can't stand it. It's...

My wings spread, and before I knew it, I was off. I didn't know where, I just flew away. Back to the castle, maybe. Mumsy could bring me some food. I perched on a windowsill of a house I didn't know, and watched the market. To many people were down. Depressing to watch, really. I suppose immortality can... Have its benefits, but most of the time it's a pain in the arse. Like today.

Earth was dying, there's nothing we could do except live life to the fullest. What are they going to do? Let the children run free around the streets, I mean, it's not like the children want to go to school, and they have no purpose to now. I wouldn't want to spend the last years of my life in school. I hated it. Of course, I think schools are more strict than they were then. Women can go now.

The suicide rate will go up, that's almost guaranteed I mean, five years to wait, knowing your doom, or one quick little trigger pull now. Immortals I assume, can be killed that way. I've never been shot, but I haven't died from age. I do have a safety box. A gun, and some liquor, a last drink. I've been meaning to use them for a while. Every time I need to use it, something comes up. Unfortunately, in five years, I won't have anyone to share the last drink with.

People will be selfless. Join the army, volunteer work. Do more for the public. Do without thinking. In the name of love, anything is right. Even more so now that we have limited time.

"I can't!" My wings fluttered against the window, and I dropped to the lower floors. "You shouldn't have to! We only wanted Sarah." I could see a lady with long, brown hair run outside, and someone carry bags out. They dumped her bags in the car, and walked back into the house. The lady got into the car, and drove off. I flew to the ground, and hopped up the little stairs to the front door, where a girl, no older than ten, was crying with her father. She saw me, and leaned down to pet me, but her father jerked her up.

"We don't play with wild animals, Sarah." And that, its self, was the start of a rather unhealthy obsession.