Butterscotch with VanillaI sat alone in the garage of my house that night, huddled in the corner behind the car while the sun set outside. I could hear the doorbell from where I was, and the "trick or treat"s that followed suit from various children at the doorstep. I leaned against the wall, hugging at my knees and wondering if somewhere, right this moment, my real parents were huddled in the corners of their garages. Then again, they were adults, and kids didn't try to steal their gumballs. I was still small, so they always came after meespecially on Halloween.
"Why can't the boy just dress up as a ghost or something?" said my foster father. He brought up the idea to my foster mother every year since the incident when I was four, but she always refused. She said it was to protect me, that my head was too fragile at my young age, and that the children who tried stealing my gumballs on the holiday would know it was me no matter what disguise I wore. As I sat picking at cobwebs on the floor, I couldn't he
Regular Poems 6Nikita Granks (OC)Regular Poems 62 years ago in Free Verse
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It isn't an opinion I'm a little free-range, but a full-blown fact and understatement
Can anyone really take a look at me and think me tame?
Be it that I have somewhat of a job at the local city park
Really, that's your only reasoning?
Hard to imagine when I clock in, day after day, to be told what to do
To be scolded for a job poorly done, oh well, I was busy with other things
Be they video games or simply water cooler talk with a raccoon and blue jay
A little relaxation never hurt anyone, and neither does a lot
Rebel without a cause is my label, a curse I guess I live with
With the rest of you around me, it's clear I feel in prison once in a while
A few times I could have run, but I stay grounded for a few reasons
Job perks are one, but friendships are another
Sometimes I wonder what it really is I stand for
Rigby x Mordecai
The sun's up again, and thus another day
Things to do, people to see, we've formed a pretty clean rut haven't we?
Fear of FlyingDespite the few clouds in the sky, the group of friends entered the airport with smiles on their faces. Well, almost everyone in the group.Fear of Flying2 years ago in Short Stories
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The seven friends were taking a plane to New York City. Mr. Maellard had given them all tickets. Originally, he was only taking Pops, but his lollipop son had insisted his friends come along. "Besides, now I can show Bean-teen what a real park is supposed to look like," Mr. Maellard had said, referring to Central Park. The group was going to stay there for two weeks, which was time off that everyone needed.
"Looks like our flight will be taking off in an hour," said Skips, reading off the giant billboard with the list of times.
"Sweet, enough time to grab some grub," said Rigby, "C'mon Mordecai."
"Right behind you, dude!" said Mordecai as the two friends ran off towards the food court.
"Don't cause any trouble!" Benson shouted after the two, "Because if you guys get arrested, I'm not bailing you out again!"
But secretly, Benson did hope the two did