Promise of a ReunionPromise of a Reunion
Ib[Game]: by Kouri
She strained to stretch her hand out, as far as possible, toward the blinding white pouring out of the canvas. Within it, a strong, lean hand reached out; its owner trying with all his might to grasp that tiny, delicate hand.
His fingers curled around hers the moment they made contact, then pulled the body from whence it came close to his chest; enveloping the slight figure into the folds of his tattered faded navy-blue coat. The girl, though shaken, held on steadfast, the strength of her grasp defying its tiny structure.
"Oh!" A Sharp intake of cold recycled air entered her lungs, producing an exclamation barely audible above that of a whisper.
Ib stood bewilderedly in front of the canvas. Vision snapping back to where she was supposed to be looking at: the minuscule title of the colossal masterpiece.
"Fabricated World" echoed through her mind, even though she did not recognize the characters that made up the l
Memories CranniesMemories Crannies2 years ago in Romance More Like This
Memories Crannies...Part One...
It impacted her life forever. Life had been the slowest ever since.
No one understood
"Isn't it great, Ib? We get to graduate soon!"
One of her friends seemed terribly excited about their high school graduation. It would be happening in less than two weeks, and seniors would even be allowed to leave school a week early to prepare for the graduation ceremony that would take place in the following week. It was quite hectic for all the seniors of the school, of course for teachers as well, but with everything coming up in a few days, there was a serious need to think and plot about ones future or who they would become.
Ib's friend, Ami, wanted to become a doctor, was accepted to a great college in a far away state, and already had scholarships and full paid grants for her tuition. She was strangely smart for someone so bubbly and... un-focused?
She reminded her of someone...
Someone she wished she could forget.
Promise- Ib/Garry fanfictionIb shot up breathing hard and fastalmost to the point of hyperventilation. Her heart pounded in her chest and felt as if it was going to burst. Cold sweat dampened her face like morning due on grass, her hands clenched tightly, making my knuckles whiteit almost looked as if the bone was ready to burst through the skin. Franticly, her widened eyes searched the unfamiliar room at such a speed her brain couldn't comprehend anything within the room. Her entire body shook violently fearing this unknown place. A dizzy sensation fell over her, she almost felt like she was going to vomit or pass out again.Promise- Ib/Garry fanfiction2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
"Morning Ib, how are you feeling?"
Ib inhaled sharply, the voice had startled her. Her body froze as her eyes searched for the man who spoke. It was GarryOh thank heavens! Something familiar in this dreadful, mysterious place! She saw him peer out from behind a bookshelf before walking over to her. A gentle smile played on his lips as he kneeled down in front of her. She tr
Man in My NightmaresEver since I was nine years old I've been haunted by these nightmares.Man in My Nightmares2 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
When they started I got them every night. These nightmares were never very clear; it's always been comparable to looking through warped, fogged glass but after so long I can make out most of what I'm seeing.
Most of them consist of myself being chased by what looks to be women crawling across the floor after me at impossible speeds, always with that horrid growl. Other times I would be hiding from these headless, tall, black figures.
Although they scared me I didn't think much of them and I didn't tell anyone because it simply didn't occur to me that there may be an underlying reason for them. But eventually my parents found out and when they discovered that I'd been having said nightmares for over a month and nothing they did seemed to help they sent me to therapy.
Once a week I would go in, I'd be asked if I was still having the dreams, I'd say 'yes', and then I'd be asked questions that to this day I can't imagin
- Ib - Reunited - Chpt 1 -"Is It all right if I keep this handkerchief a while longer?"- Ib - Reunited - Chpt 1 -2 years ago in Sketches More Like This
"It wouldn't do to return it as it is..."
"I'll have to... make it clean. and then give it back."
"Because... We will see each other again!"
It's been several years (10) since I've seen Garry. He still has my handkerchief... and I've been waiting to try macaroons...
"Ib! Where are you? Ib! It's dinner time!"
I could hear my mom calling my name from the living room; she sure has a loud voice... I grab my coat and before I close my bedroom door, I glance at the red rose in the vase that rests on my desk.
Garry, how long has it been since our adventure in that art gallery...
"Ib, it's almost your birthday dear. Is there anything you'd like?" my mother asks me.
"No, nothing specific..."
"I just want to find him." I mumble. "Sorry, what did you say dear?"
"Nothing, it's nothing! Where are we eating?"
"Oh we're going to..." my mother starts off saying "To a new restaurant!" my father interrupts.
Ib - Memories Crannies - IntroductionIntroductionIb - Memories Crannies - Introduction2 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Ever since the visit at that gallery there seemed to be something different in her. For one, there had been a lemon candy in her pocket. Considering she hated those, it was very unlikely that she should find one in her pocket. She didn't always hate them; but they now appeared to install a sense of despair in her. Then came the fact that she couldn't look at a rose without watering it and cried if she saw a wilted one; red roses too but especially blue ones. And when she had suddenly had a craving for macaroons, to say that her parents looked at her strangely was the understatement of the year. Among these, were other bizarre happenings: she rapidly grew a fond passion for the outdoors and the sun, which she seemed to think, may disappear; she absolutely hated all crayons and she had a particular disliking for palette knifes. Not that there was much occasion to use one. The Guertena gallery had certainly established a mountain of questions in her mind that