still.one.still.5 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
her name is alice. there is a slight blood stain on the valley where her lips part, and her eyes are two supermassive black stars that can't show anything but hurt. she can't bring herself to look in the broken mirror puddles that are all over the ground.
(and i don't blame her)
she borrows her mother's raincoat because it smells like home. not the homes that are flooded with laundry soap or soft candles burning in the family room, but more like the paint she spilled on the carpet, or the whiskey on her father's breath.
(and sometimes, she swears she can smell her mother's sadness.)
when alice was little she remembers playing freeze tag with her mother. she remembers feeling anxious, and now she feels sick. "if daddy touches you, stay still, and don't make a sound."
FireplaceHe tells her not to let go, never to let go. Whatever he becomes, she must not let go. She kisses his butterscotch hair for consent, once, twice. He grasps her hand and they run into the night together.Fireplace6 years ago in Fantasy More Like This
The queen is impossibly, inhumanly beautiful, with eyes like flint. How can anyone compare with her? But he whispers into her ear, Dear hearthow could you think such a thing? I will never love heryou are the only one. She looks up into his dear gray eyes and smiles.
She shuts her eyes tight against the adder twining its sinuous body up her arms. Its scales are cold and awful against her skin. It flickers its forked tongue in her face, and she cringes back. But she does not let go.
She is on her knees now, tears streaming down her face. A terrible roar rattles in her stricken ears, and the ferocious teeth snap at her bared throat. The lion is immense, too massive for the circle of her frail human arms. But she knots her numb fingers in its fur and holds on.
they never quite doMara made pictures without a thousand words, without sounds or touches; Mara made pictures with a whisper, when she least wanted to, much to her chagrin. They hung thick on her walls; faces frozen, eyes wide at Maras word.they never quite do6 years ago in Horror More Like This
Mara was thinner than she seemed, taking steps towards the bright light at the end of the hallway. Not as sure as she was stoned, she meandered; her feet leaving strange skinny marks in the thick carpet. Her hair, blonde on black, wagged back and forth as music played somewhere between her ears. She rounded the corner and asked the man on the wall a simple question. Where were you while we were getting high?&
Looking UpEvery person that I pass on the street either looks at me and smiles, or looks down at the passing cracks and scuffed boots that refuse to look back. Not one ever looks up. As a human I feel restrained in this two-way world, and as a stranger I feel helpless.Looking Up7 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
Did you see the man with the tattered work gloves? How he hid his fingers in his sweat-stained blue jeans and held a staring contest with his steel toes? I wish he knew that I walked by, that if he was to pass by me a second time, a that man looks more tired than the last time I saw him thought could run through his mind. He cant even imagine where hes going because he is too busy stuffing his mind with personal guilt. Nobody blames him but himself: for his menial job, his workaday routine, his solitude.
But I am just assuming here. I couldnt pinpoint this mans face in a lineup, or greet him by his predictable nickname. He would tell me (if he could see me), that the brim of his cap simpl
leavemedon'tleaveme.you make me sick. you make my stomach fold in on itself and press out against the lining of my flesh. you put lumps in my throat and you tie strings to my tear glands and tug until the world is just a panoply of blurred lines, hazy colour and bokeh.leavemedon'tleaveme.6 years ago in Biography & Memoir More Like This
you made me do this. you put the knife in my fingers and you told me to tear, you said you would care if i hurt myself like this. you said youd care if i opened my flesh up for you like a gift of blood and flesh and tissue. but you never really did.
i like being small, i like being the blue eyed girl sitting amidst background noise, rubber band arms holding the necks of her legs together. i like being the blue eyed girl with hands holding her from spilling in a mess at everyones toes. i like it when theyre your hands.
i try to define you with mental disorders. i say you have schizophrenia and pretend its a valid excuse. im in love with one of your personalities, but the other doesnt even notice
la machine a ecrire+eng translEn-dehors du reste du monde, le temps ne compte plus, les oiseaux chantent toute la nuit et la police ne sait plus quoi faire. Elle est débordée par notre sagesse denfants, nos idées révolutionnaires et nos jeux trop simples pour notre âge. Seule la pluie pénétrait notre univers et elle devenait ce quon lui disait dêtre; un baume, une confidente attentive qui nous a dit ce quon voulait entendre. On nageait dans lextase, on se roulait dans le sable, on volait dans la lumière dont on faisait ce quon voulait. Elle nous enveloppait de bon cur, nous étions devenus ses enfants, des enfants-lumière comme celui de King et Kubrick. On sest raconté des scénarios impossibles, sans fins et inachevés, des histoires parfaites parce quelles se terminaient avant de mal tourner, dans un décor de film fabriqué juste pla machine a ecrire+eng transl5 years ago in General Non-Fiction More Like This
PainThey had told me how it was going to be.Pain2 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
I was to lie still, and let them do the work, but hey, I never agreed to not scream, did I?
So I screamed. I screamed as if there was no tomorrow. I screamed because the local anesthesia didn't quite mask the effect of the six inch knife that was now slicing its way across my gut, the blood flowing down the sides, onto the table.
"Clench on this." The orderly pressed down a cloth firmly into my open mouth. The dry cloth smelt, but there was nothing I could do about it. So I clenched, as hard as I could. I must have been clenching really hard, since I think I passed out.
When I woke up the bearded doctor was standing over me, his pearly white teeth gleaming in the fluorescent light that hung over the window. A sulking nurse stood on the other side of the bed.
"It was a successful operation. You rest for now," he patted me on the shoulder. Leaving, he motioned to the nurse, "If you will."
From the corner of my eye, I saw the nurse inject something
Fisher Girl The Fisher-girlFisher Girl3 years ago in Emotional More Like This
And words will fail a girl;
Staring about in this empty grey;
Straining eyes against the frosting fog which lies
Thicker than a shroud about a vault.
(How insignificant one can seem)
No separation exists here, between the heaven and the hell.
A lonely craft and its occupant
Suspended in a monotone
Like a spider in its web.
Friendly, creaking wood;
The stark realism of a tiny spire
Standing like a shot against the empty mist
She is alone
Her sun now hidden
In that rich and tasteless fog.
And her Earth?
Is it a million miles away?
Or does it lie ahead
Perhaps to wound her tiny craft, and leave her
Struck with fears of dying.
Where are the gulls?
Where is her home?
And the sea is so still
And the fisher-girl, does not.
Oh, you dreaded day, you monster!
Do you come to petrify a soul?
If so, go away
Your job is done .
But, it does not
And the sea is lonelier still.
Eat"Oy, let me see your calorie card!" The skinny man at the hotdog stand demanded, holding my hotdog just out of reach.Eat5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
I sighed and dug the plastic out of my pocket, handing it to him with a sour grimace on my face. I was sure I had already exceeded my allotted 1500 calories for today, but I was just so darn hungry. Seriously, what was one hotdog going to do to my figure anyway?
He shook his head as he swiped it through the scanner. "Sorry girlie. This hot dog is 242 calories. You only have 10 calories left for today." He shooed me away in preference of those with enough calories on their card to afford his food.
My stomach grumbled its complaints all the way home. If I had really wanted that hotdog I could have gone to the gym and earned more calories on my card, but I really wasn't in the mood for exercise.
It started in California, taking hold among the mothers who didn't want their kids to become fat
FuelHorace Windsor stood bundled and shivering against the passenger door of his sleek black Rolls Royce. A cigarette was clenched between his bluish fingers. He exhaled, a shaky stream of frozen breath and toxic smoke hissing from his teeth. Christ, it was cold.Fuel6 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
"Come on, come on," he chattered as the ancient gas pump chugged at a painstakingly slow pace. The numbers on the meter showed little progress. If not for his damned wife, he could have just stayed in the car. Four days of tedious corporate meetings and he was expected to make the three hour journey home without a single cigarette? "It will ruin the interior, Horace," she had scolded, "We only just bought the car last month." On any other day, he would have rebelled, but he didn't feel like putting up with her nagging after returning home from such a long week. He just wanted to get home and sleep in his own bed. The hotel had had an
pretty boys break hearts.sometimes I think Im just a mess of badly drawn lines. Im just scrawled veins beneath paper rough skin, I wear poorly sketched scars on my thighs [skin deep red pen lines] and even my smile is lop-sided- but he never seemed to notice.pretty boys break hearts.6 years ago in Teen More Like This
my skin [spread like thick icing over my skeleton] is a monotonous pattern of pores, a stretch of the world the sun never kissed. I cant see the beauty in multitudes of freckles and chipped fingernails- but he does.
why do you love me?
you make me happy.
I never could figure out just how. was it my illegible love notes, or the tiny hearts I drew into his bare back with my fingertips? was it the filth on my knees or the way I named every bowing flower in my garden? maybe it was the way I sewed the stars to the navy sky and told him in a little, little voice-that I loved him.
either way he made my heart skip beats and bumps and bangs and he made me feel beautiful, a little
SH.Encounter:Hidden Secret.Ch3SH.Encounter:Hidden Secret.Ch33 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
What's written in -...- means a person talking.
I should apologize that my stories has a lot of grammar and spelling mistakes, but that's just something I can't control So I APOLOGIZE about it
Please don't get angry about it..!
SasuHina. Encounter: Hidden Secret. Ch3.
The more Hinata thought about it, the scarier it got Why would Uchiha Sasuke bother her with things like these? Why would he want to make Hinata fall for him?
It was useless anyway as Hinata was more attracted to the nature of the person, not to the appearance. And Hinata was really well informed about the kind of guys Sasuke was She had to work with a lot of them.
-Hime, would you please hurry up? Her thoughts interrupted Kurenai. Hinata was already for fifteen minutes taking a rest and drinking coffee. She was standing on the balcony and looking at the nice view from tenth floor.
-Yes, I will be right there. Hinata answered and smiled. She ha
My lionAdmittedly, I was a rotten child. I liked to spend my time throwing rocks at stray dogs. No one ever bothered to stop me until the old voice in the alley.My lion6 years ago in Children and Teen More Like This
Why are you throwing rocks at puppies? It was an old man voice, deep and gravelly, so I didnt stop.
Because I want to, old man, I retorted and tried to sound mean. There was no warning before I heard a yelp and felt dirt under my shoulders. I tumbled over and realized the yelp had come from me. I lay on the ground and listened to my heart beat. That old man had pushed me down, and now he would pay. You asked for it! I yelled and grabbed the first rock I laid hands on, then jumped up to face him.
At first I could only see stars. Then I saw the lion. He was sitting like a giant cat, and his tail twitched around behind him.
Dont eat me! I yelled on instinct and dropped my rock. He licked his lips.
Why not? I heard the old man voice ask. Was this a trick? I looked ar
Grammar Nazi AppealGrammar Nazis worldwideGrammar Nazi Appeal8 years ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
need YOU to spell correctly.
Preserve our apostrophes!
Dear English language (ab)user,
After many arduous years of being forced to endure witnessing the tragic downfall of what we have all come to cherish as our native tongue, this Christmas the opportunity to make a stand and prevent this sinful slaughter has arisen. But the question is do you have the strength of heart and the compassion it will take to end this brutality?
Writers, readers and even arithmeticians worldwide cannot withstand such callous cruelty a second longer. Hyphens cower under their beds, colons huddle beneath their sheets and apostrophes wake screaming in the night because of the nauseating nightmares of abuse. You must help us put a full stop to this at once! All that you have to do is to stick up for our battered friend the comma, or end the bullying of the trusty question mark, or you could even join us in our quest to salvage the dignity of our humble yet painfully physical
Tea TimeThere was a young girl no more than six. She sat at an outdoor table of a coffee shop sipping tea in a yellow Sunday dress and pigtails tied with bows. Occasionally shed glance up from her reading to take in the golden afternoon around her, but for the most part she simply ignored it.Tea Time7 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Normal people, who had no eye for aura or the greater issues of the world, passed her by without thinking anything out of the ordinary. At the most, they may have wondered why she wasnt in school, or why the book seemed far too thick for a child that age.
It was such a shame; they didnt understand what a rare sight it was that they were passing up.
He was actually out in public.
Your body guards arent around, I see.
Sacha looked up from his tea and smiled just a bit, You know me better than that, Aralt. He sipped at it again, You cant possibly believe I havent noticed your dogs sniffin
Oneword: RunawayOneword: Runaway3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
John shuffled home from a long, menial day at work. He drudged up the stairs and stood in the door frame of 221B. Everything was exactly how he had left it. No thumbs in the fridge, no chemicals burning away on the kitchen table, no violin wavering away through the air and no gangly detective sitting in the leather armchair. John glanced at his own chair, despairing the thought of another day sitting in it with nobody across from him.
Instead of taking his jacket off and settling in, he turned back around and hurried down the steps. He had barely remembered to lock the door behind himself before sprinting away down Baker street, trying to escape everything that reminded him of Sherlock.
UnderwearI have every interest in seeing your underwear, and that tells me more than I need to know.Underwear4 years ago in Emotional More Like This
- Torn -- Torn -9 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
"What are you doing?"
"Because I love him."
"But you've only just begun to date him."
"I don't care. I love him."
"Are you sure?"
"How do you know?"
"Because. He makes me torn."
"Torn? Isn't that a bad thing?"
"Well... Go on."
"Whenever I'm not with him, I am torn between what I am doing and running to him."
colour blind.She saw him at the park once. He was the colour of dirt; with bird eyes and white, mapped palms. Her little forehead lined as she felt the bile force its way up until her saliva was acid. She counted her toes and bit the inside of her cheek, should she run? Are they fast runners? She figured this one must be if he kept himself out of jail. The dark man flashed a mouthful of pebbles and held out his hand- which would have swallowed hers.colour blind.6 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
'Don't touch me.'
Her hands were all knuckles and her baby eyes tore into his. He faltered and stepped away, a half mouthed sorry. He looked upset, a grin spread like fire between her dimples.
Suddenly she imagined force-feeding him barbed wire and then tearing it back out- the way a clown pulls coloured cloth from his sleeve. She imagined tying the left of his limbs to a heavy tree trunk and the right to a truck. Dragging and pulling until his joints sang high with dislocation and his arms snapped like twigs. The way she likes the crackle of dea
The Day I Met God.I met God one evening.The Day I Met God.6 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
The funny thing is, i wasn't wanting to find him.
God was smoking.
"Why are you smoking?"
"I'm God Kalea, i'm stressed."
We sat atop a big balcony and watched his creations move.
"They're so beautiful", God was breathing hard.
But I know they aren't. they aren't. they aren't.
How do you tell God that?
"Why do people rape, and murder and steal?"
God's mouth is the shape of a sinking ship
his face carries the wrinkles of one thousand dying souls.
Yarn - StoryYarn - Story2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
There it lies before me. Silently criticising me. Mocking me. Motionless. An orb. Large. Round. And very. Very. Blue.
This is not the first time I have come face to face with this foe. Nor will it be the last. Soon I shall annihilate him! And the safety of humanity will fall upon me. Tiddle's the superior!
Well what did you think I was going to say? Do you really think there are such things as super heroes? Don't be silly! Kittens however. We exist. Sadly not all of us have homes and we are forced to roam the streets, keeping those nasty rodents and their diseases at bay. Sadly, though, your human minds do not see us as the reliable cleaners we are, you see us on the streets and assume we are worthless or broken.
However, back to the orb. I'm not allowed to touch the orb. O