Alluro - Prologue and The BeginningAlluro - Prologue and The Beginning3 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
© Emma Websdale
That moment, when every emotion has been strung out, every thought stretched to snapping, when your head is screaming and your chest is numb from the sick palpitations your heart has sputtered out. When you feel like you are made from the thinnest glass, likely to shatter into a million fragments of pent-up anxiety at any given moment. But do you show it? Of course you don't show it. Because doing so means revealing weakness and vulnerability. Being vulnerable in this game is a risk. A deadly one at that. Smile.
You pretend everything is okay on the outside, you even laugh. But, you can feel the darkness eating away at your flesh from the inside, crawling into your lungs, crushing your breath and tugging at your too-fast heart.
Laugh again, yes, that's right, you have everyone fooled, laughing with you. You have them right at your fingertips.
Turn your head to the anxious pairs of eyes that are relying on
NormalNormal is conforming.Normal7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Normal is restricting.
Normal is chains binding us to the sway of society.
Normal is bland.
Normal is a bore.
Normal is a piece of gum that has been chewed far to long.
Normal is propaganda.
.normal is proper punctuatioN
Normal is that which inhibits flight of the heart, mind, and soul.
Anomalies: Chapter 1Anomalies: Chapter 16 years ago in Science Fiction More Like This
Chapter One: Under the Radar
A 96 DeVille rattled to a stop outside of San Domingo High School as the first drops of morning rain shepherded the students inside its dank halls. From the passenger seat, hunched in a fading black trenchcoat, Jordan McClain watched the students scrambling inside, studying their movements with dark, unblinking eyes. Beside him, Hill McClain was digging into the glove compartment, fumbling with a sagging brown paper bag.
Remember to keep your head down, kiddo, Hill was saying as Jordan kept his eyes carefully trained on the students. Dont call too much attention to yourself and just try to blend in and everything will be okay. Hill set the parking brake and placed the bag down and gripped Jordans shoulder. His tired, grey eyes searched Jordans sharp-featured face, his brow furrowing with apprehension. Just stay low. Stay low, and well be fine. Hill picked up the bag again and
Let You Down“He’s waking up…”Let You Down8 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
There was something on his face, something was smothering him. He reached up to pull it away, feeling the weight and movement of the tubes that dangled from his hand. Before he could remove it, a hand caught his wrist, pinning it back down. Another hand holding a light was suddenly above him, shining the beam directly into his eyes. He heard words, he presumed they were English, but he couldn’t understand them. It was like listening to a radio station that wasn’t coming in right, only it was a rushing noise, and not static, that was drowning them out.
He wanted to talk to the figures around him, he wanted to tell them he couldn’t breathe, or see more than shadows and light. His hand went up to his face again, trying to pull away the thing that was covering his nose and mouth. The other hands were still quicker, though, and they pinned him down again, though this time he felt tight straps crossing his forearms, securing them
MYTHOS: A Silicon Valley ThrillerMYTHOS: A Silicon Valley Thriller2 years ago in Settings More Like This
Episode 1 : Last day at the office
by Javier Cabrera
cover art Carlos Cabrera
I knocked out five of his teeth with a fist so hard that his whole face exploded in blood and before he collapsed into the "Star Wars Wampa" rug his wife got him for Christmas, I connected a second one right under his stomach making him squeal like the pig he was. I didn't turn back to see, but the noises of curious chairs inside the cubicle farm and the silence that came afterwards was enough to know everyone's eyes were burning holes through the venetian blinds of Smith's office, just like I wanted to.
He was still conscious when I began to kick him around. Now, I got to admit things went out of hand for a moment there, but I had to make sure he would not go unnoticed in a crowd anymore. Was hard though, ignoring all those wet sounds he made, but when I was done his face was nothing but a pulpy mass of flesh begging me to stop and the message was on his way. They will hear
Wear the ScarsI wear these scars for a reason,Wear the Scars7 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
I fought my way through each season.
And although those wounds do heal,
they don't erase how I feel.
A deep release they may give,
but that is no way to live.
So I am still not set free,
from the legion of demons in me.
Don't judge when you see our scars,
they don't define who we are.
We know that theres scars in us all,
we all get hurt when we fall.
But in this we've found a home,
together we're never alone.
For when we all share our pain,
a family and healing we gain.
It's not always what it seems,
these traces of lost memories.
And though you think that it's wrong,
it just reminds me I'm strong.
Those marks all came from the past,
something I didn't let last.
So I'll wear my scars with pride,
I will defeat what's inside.
What Might Have BeenThe moment is now behind us.What Might Have Been4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Did my hesitation cost us so much,
or did it belong to you? We were sharing the last glass,
the seabirds had shrieked their way into a past
that was already closing ranks behind us.
Our fingers failed to touch. I was paralysed with longing.
blinded by you, I desired so much that eluded us.
Your eyes, illuminating your regretful smile,
no longer hid in riddles I could not have understood.
The Umbrella LettersDear Mr. and Mrs. Umbrella,The Umbrella Letters7 years ago in Socio-political More Like This
I'm writing out of concern for your son Charlie. Since he first started in my class I have noticed odd tendencies in his behaviour. I know Charlie is a special boy, but the way these tendencies develop is beginning to worry me. He seems to be having troubles communicating with others. He rarely plays with the other children and does not respond when I speak to him. His writing is beginning to stray from the alphabet. Last week he even refused to partake in morning prostration! I took him to see the school nurse but he remained silent for the entire time and did not subject himself to examination. I therefore ask you to bring Charlie to a doctor in order to find out what is causing these problems.
Miss Edna Umber, Umbrellium Primary School
Dear Mr. and Mrs. Umbrella,
After the examination of your son, we have been able to establish that he is not suffering from any apparent physical illness or dysfunction. There appears to be nothing wrong wit
A Thrash in Time Pt2 Ch1A Thrash in Time Pt2 Ch14 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
A thrash in time
(WARNING: it is very, very, VERY!!!!! LONG)
(The last time we left metallica off in pt.1, Lars and James were having a conversation about the day they first met while jamming at the HQ, till Rob & Kirk found something in the st
Throw it all awayI find myself alone,Throw it all away3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Full of unknown hate.
There is no way out,
No way to escape.
The cuts appear throughout my arm,
But now the pain feels numb.
My body is utterly ravaged,
Because of what I have done.
Why am I alive?
An embodiment of sorrow,
Time to give up,
And end it all, pronto.
It's time to make a choice,
It's time to make it now.
Shall I choose to kill myself,
Ending with a bow?
Or should I choose to endure,
Continuing to the end?
Trying to live my life,
And one day make ameds.
But why should I prolong,
My miserable excuse of a life?
I should pierce the heart now,
With the blood-stained knife.
Time to end it all,
Time to say goodbye.
Time to throw it all away,
Time for me to die.
RunningYou make me want to run away.Running5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I lie and wish the world was flat,
So I wouldn't run to the other side of the world
Only to end up in your arms again.
Money killsMoney kills3 years ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
~~ What are the most important immaterial things in the world? ~~
Some will answer:
Now, another question:
~~ What is the most important material thing in the world? ~~
- And money
- And money again.
But did you notice?
- Some people work so much that they don't have time to spend with their family and their friends.
- Some couples are divorcing because of money.
- Some people work day and night. They are stressed be
An old man's deathAn old man's death5 years ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
Wearily he sits in his usual chair. Maybe no one will notice how tired he is and how much it hurts. His oldest granddaughter knocks on the door and opens the door.
"Hi grandpa. How are you today?" She gives him a hug and sits the plate of cookies in front of him. Her fiancé steps in behind her with a gallon of fresh cow's milk. He hadn't had that since he was a boy. Yum!
He smiles. "When are you getting married??"
She pauses. A different reaction that usual. Usually she says, "Not sure yet. We'll let you know."
"October the eighth."
For a split second he thought there was hope after all. October wasn't too far away. He could make it until then. That would only be a month after the six month mark the doctors gave him back in March. Then she adds .
He didn't know what to say. He'd never make it that long. He knew he couldn't. For a moment, she caught the distress in his eyes, but he looks away quickly back at the cookies and milk. "Thanks for the cookies." H
In Three ActsmanIn Three Acts6 years ago in Typographical More Like This
I am you... you are meMight you lend me an ear as I present my heart to you? Can you forget my race, gender, age and other nonsense for one moment? Slow down and simply look at me. Please.I am you... you are me7 years ago in General Non-Fiction More Like This
What do you see?
I presume you see two eyes who have witnessed love, hatred, joy, sadness, victories and defeats.
You see a nose, which has smelt repugnant odours, lilies blooming in the spring, the stench of war wafting through the land or perhaps the smell of a mother cooking for her family.
You can see two ears much like yours. They have heard a persons dying breath, a babys newborn wail, a cry of joy, a sob of pain. They have heard children playing, fathers whispering goodnight to their daughters, mothers crying for their sons.
You can see a mouth. A mouth that has tasted rain, snow, blood, sweat and tears. A mouth that has spoken out for its belief. A mouth that has embraced another and kissed a frightened childs cheek during a thunderstorm.
What you see is us. You and I. Two people.