Last Scream His breathing was so rapid by this point that it was the only thing he could hear. He couldn't hear his footsteps racing against the stone, the creak of his lantern, nor the ever so growing scream of the beast.
It wasn't so long ago that he had been sitting on the bank side with his friend, chatting oh so carelessly about how life was rolling along. They laughed at old memories of childhood and began constantly murmuring about their great ambitions. The friend had just received management of an old bank outside of Edinburgh, and he himself had just proposed to dear Marjorie, the daughter of a wealthy merchant. "La vie est belle." He remembered saying.
The sweat now plastered his dark hair to his face and burned his eyes. His lips were hard and chalked from dehydration. Oil from the lantern had spilled upon his fingers; burning and melting the skin so it clung to its rusted handle. At this moment, he no longer had any consci
The Final PunishmentNo thoughts could enter his mind, but if he could wish for something, it would be for nothing at all. There was no longer any desire in his heart, for at last it's flame had dissolved in streams of blood it had ignored. The monster inside him was gone, as too himself.The Final Punishment2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Their grip tighten around his wrist, and they pulled him forward deeper against the stone pavement. He could feel the glares of the imperial guard intense with hatred run across his browned bare back and almost singe his white speckled wings to pieces. Their powder white uniform were purelessly clean, the buttons reflecting the high noon sun also evilly.
Thrown onto the silver platform, guards surrounded his busily clicking chains around his feet, hands, and finally his neck. Ropes rubbed angrily against his feathers, and a few fell to the ground sparingly. He looked up into the face of his undiscovered equal.
People of White called him their steel hero; People of Red called him the brutal monster. His eyes were black as
Dreams: My First PoemHer small handsDreams: My First Poem2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
wrapped around the bars so tighly
She stares out into the sky
stars shimmering so brightly
She dreams of life
of freedom and happiness
She dreams of hope
of a future and prosperity
Dreams of adventure
of other worlds and people
Dreams of him
her unnamed knight
She ignores the truth
Of the world and agony
She ignores her fingers
freezing to the metal
She ignores the fact her dreams are not reality
Gift for MechanicMochaThe little pink haired tsundere sat on the fuzzy carpet, her tiny little pout consuming her face. In her hands was a small green plate with only a fork and reminiscents of a carrot cake. She deeply missed that petite slice of cake, but there was no way she was going to stand back to get more. A tear began to swelled up in her left eye.Gift for MechanicMocha2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
"But it's not...not," she shuttered, "Fair!" The tsundere started sobbing and her ears flopped over in sadness. She ignored the sounds of scuffling as others walked into the room at her commotion and their numerous questions.
"Niahime-chan! What's wrong Niahime?" Was the main thing that remained unanswered by her sobs, but it only took them a couple moments to realize what had happened. Something plopped onto Niahime plate with a thud.
She opened her eyes and her sobs ended with a halt, almost making people question whether they were actually real. Another delicious piece of carrot cake stood on her plate, much bigger than the piece she had had bef
A Morning for The White RabbitWaking up at dawn must be the most fulling part of a day a person can achieve, not that the average population would even attempt such an endeavor. But for those that do, looking forward to that moment proves to be the drive behind getting out of bed and facing the many sufferings the day might bring.A Morning for The White Rabbit2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
This all is the main point William keeps in his mind this early dawn morning as he quietly sipped his tea, cozily wrapped in his lavender blanket. The chilly morning breeze caressed his face warning him that he shouldn't stay on the balcony long, for the pale complex of the tip of his nose would soon turn pink and he would not enjoy spending his already busy day with a hankerkief pressed against his face.
He chose to ignore this notion though as the sun began to pick up it's pace as it rose quickly over the horizon. The world from the view of a castle's tower was so different already, but as the hues of red and orange cascade upon the trees and rivers, and even the distant fields of Whi
ReaderxGermany:MarchingBand!"Snap out of it. Snap out of it." You thought repeatedly. "Someone's going to notice you staring." You couldn't help it though. People rustled around you restless from hours of standing. They all, or at least most, were watching the director as he displayed the complex visual, which you already had down. It smelled like sweat and sunscreen as the breeze picked up for the first time in what seemed like hours. The tan snare player infront of you leaned his head back to enjoy this, but you couldn't care less. It was officially the second week of band camp and you were to busy staring at the drum major.ReaderxGermany:MarchingBand!2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Ludwig, or Mr. SuperUberLudwigAmadeusMozartPants as Front Ensemble like to call him, stood ten feet behind the director, bristling with sweat as he practiced his conducting motions over and over and over and over.....okay now don't get too into it, again. It was mid-way through the day and the thick gel that encased his hair in a shell had broken broken and sweated away, causing
The HatterThe hatter worked in the soft glow of a candle which had been burning for hours. Its wax had begun spilling onto the beaten wooden workshop table, leaving a terrible smell of lard. He wouldn't have noticed though. As all hatters, he was immersed in his work. His fingers worked diligently, softly and gently pulling the needle, threading the material of the fabric together. As simple as a hat might sound to you, to him it was much more complex. A hat can say many things about a person in his opinion. How rich or poor. How dull or creative. How hard working or lethargic. The hatter smiled, flashing his purely white teeth as the last pieces and fabric were brought together. Beautiful, he thought. A sharp rap came on the door. His lips twitched in annoyance.The Hatter3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
"Come in." He sighed. The door opened, its rusted hinges creaking. He didn't bother to turn around, he could already feel his father's eyes pierce his back.
"The bathroom smelled of dye again Algernon." His father said in a m
After the Battle After the BattleAfter the Battle2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
After the battle, she finally got the moment to lay down.
Sadness, anger, frustration, hate.
It seemed to have come in all directions at the time.
Goodbye AliceInitially, I thought there would be a lot more great deal of pain when it came to dying. But in the end, it only was an intense heavy and numb feeling, almost like you were hit in the head with a large block of ice. The only notion really that I was really even dying was the metallic taste in my mouth, and the haze in my eyes. I looked at her, her young girlish features tainted by the splatter of my blood. Her eyes remained opened, as if she were to be strangled, and her mouth twitched wildly, most likely from shock. It was sad that that was going to be the expression she wore the last time I saw her. I really don't think I had ever seen anyone as scared as she was at that moment, and if I had had time to reflect on it, I would have been frightened too. With a great jolt, I felt the muscles in my body let go, giving up on my hope. As I fell on top of her, I managed to whisper,Goodbye Alice2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Best FriendI tend to play with it a lot. My fingers run across it's ridges and bends. It still smelled like the ocean, a scent that without it, I probably would of forgotten. I find it funny, how it rolls around in my hand, almost like it wants to run away, but don't we all? It's so small. So meaningful. A gift from a friend, a best friend.Best Friend3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
We were at the shore, hiding from the lady who always gave the children spankings. It was a great place for us to hide, for we both loved the sound of the water lapping the beach. She laughed as we built small houses out of the sand, only to be destroyed within moments of their creation by the incoming waves. That's when she found it. A shell, white as anything seemed to get in the foggy sunless coast line.
She loved that shell so much. It always had a safe home in her pocket, with no fear of getting lost or abandoned. She carried it for three years before that one day. The day she left.
I should have been happy for her, a new home with new parents, but I wasn
SuspensionI’m sick of your rule.Suspension2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I’m sick of your reign.
I’m sick of your laws.
I’m sick of your domain,
Which is hell.
I’m sick of your judgment,
Which is unfair.
I’m sick of your being here,
So I’m going to rebel.
The food grown was worthless,
Cause the soil is empty
From your “great” battles.
Clothing and shelter
Never gave our protection
From nature’s merciless forces
And we had to pay our earnings
To your continuous debt
That will never be filled.
You said you were doing
This for us
But we say you
Building your manor of mirrors
Right from our backyards.
Is that what you’re doing
With our earnings—
Materials for your house?
We knew you were bad from the start
But forgot it when you came to rule.
Everyone went along with
What you said
Including me but
I never belived you.
It’s all your ignorance
That got us into this mess
And now you’ll going to pay for it!
Hatred and anger has
Been building up over the years
Poor AlicePoor AlicePoor Alice2 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Childish story in hand
Why does Alice still dream of Wonderland?
Deeply enveloped in her own mind
What does she expect to find?
A White Rabbit as he scudders on his way?
A pampered Duchess ranting about her day?
These are stupid notions to think might be
For there is no glass table with holding a key
There is no Queen in marvelous hues
No March Hare trying to make his dues.
And after all these years I am sad to find
Poor little Alice is still trapped inside her own mind.
WORDSRumors hurt.WORDS2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
They say that
Words are a
But I have
A different opinion
That describes words
In a simple way.
Words are roses
With beautiful petals
But remember they
Still have thorns.
ChoicesSometimes I hateChoices2 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
the choices I
proven my life
PleasePlease,Please2 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Stop acting so cold.
Squeeze back on my hold.
I don't want you to leave.
Understand that I can see
That you hurt so much more than me.
Where?Where are you?Where?2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Where are you?
I call out to you
But you never
Show your presence
When you say
I’ve searched everywhere,
I’ve asked everyone,
But where are you?
I can’t take this anymore.
Why do you still hid?
Where are you?
Where are you?
Do you hate me?
Do you not care for me?
Where are you?
Where are you?
I need you.
Why are you still
Where are you?
Where are you?
Where am I?
Where are you?
Am I lost?
Are you lost?
Can I find you?
Can you find me?
Where are you?
Where are you?
I know how to
Live without you
But I chose not to.
Where are you?
MuteHer scarlet lips were lies hidden underneath her beauty. All men that saw her fell in love with her for that fact. Never did she utter a word though, believed that from birth the her voice had been stolen away. Many asked her for her hand in marriage, but were all refused with a silent shake of her head.Mute3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Her father was poor, the owner of a inn. Many people the girl saw pass through the inn everyday as she cleaned the tables. People with strange faces and names, unusual vibrant colors of hair and clothing. Those where her favorite people.
One day, as she sat on the stairs reading, her father came to her with a guest. "This is William Hearthway, he will be staying with us for a couple of days, maybe a week or two, can you lead him to his room?" The boy was one with beautiful blue hair, pulled back and tied with a ribbon. His eyes were dull and distant.
"I'm sorry to be a bother, I was struck with an illness when I was a young boy, the fever took away my sight. You'll have to lead me by h
GT: Psycho-Yetu Leaves crackled under foot making her ears ring in paranoia. She couldn't help it though, the punishment she would receive if she was found out would be just...terrible. Pushing her pink bangs back, she also put the thought back into her mind. She decided to only worry about one thing, or two rather, and that was hoping he had gotten her message in time, and that she could find the herb Lady Tsunade had requested.GT: Psycho-Yetu2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Sakura approached the little dango shop that resided in a tiny village, miles outside of Konaha, and her heart fluttered. She took out a small mirror from her cloak and inspected her face before she entered. Her eyes were the classic mint green as always, but they were now highlighted by the massacre she put on her lashes.
"I hope he even notices.." She murmurered under her breath as she walked into the doorway. Her face turned red and a smile almost cracked her face in half as she saw him sitting at a small table already; her dear Sasuke.
The CarverHe barely touched her skin as his paint brush gently floated above. The paint so carefully finished the designs that made up her eyes. The artisan straightened his back from its hunched position that it had been in for days, if you didn't count the moment he needed to refill or sharpen his tools. He stared down at his masterpiece, his steel blue eyes inspecting every crevice of her body. Perfect. Not a single default in the crafting.The Carver2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Only from an arm's length away would you notice her bodies still rigidness, or the very acute gloss of her skin. That it was only but a wood figure, skillfully carved and painted into a young women of large deep brown eyes and dark mahogany hair. It was almost her, he thought silently. The shack of a house they inhabited then shook violently with the thunder of a canon. His eyebrows scrunched. The battlefield was getting close.
"How are you my dear. It's been a long time." He whispered quietly. "Elisabeth." His calloused fingers ran o
The JourneyBeneath my skin, my veins pulse with desireThe Journey3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
To know why I am here.
As I journey to find the answers to life,
I sail through the monotonous seas
That stretch forever beyond the horizon.
As my ship sails towards the dry land,
Mountains tower before me,
Filling me with both awe and intimidation.
But the mountains are eroding as time passes by,
Into merely fragments of what they once were.
I move my eyes and watch the glaciers
Melt slowly into rivers.
But even though they disappear,
They melt to provide water for all life on this planet.
You could say rivers are created by glaciers for a purpose.
I ponder those mountains and glaciers as the scenery
Changes to a monotonous desert.
Hot sand spreads around my feet,
And the heat drains away my energy.
I travel onward, searching for answers in the heavens above.
I look on as the starry sky stretches before me
Like a blanket concealing what lies beyond
The world as I know it.
The stars merely pins on a map
Beckon me to explore them.
But there is
Abandoned.I sit within the confines of my cellAbandoned.2 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Disregarded, unworthy of even Hell
They keep me alive but only barely
And only talk enough to scare me
While I wait for wounds to heal
They peek in by the window sill
And fake a smile for all to see
But I know what they think of me
I hear their words behind thin walls
To hear them laugh at how I crawl
Misjudged and hated, that's all I am
Even God will not help this lamb.
Love of DeathThese aren't nightmares, they're worse than nightmares. They're these terrors. And it feels as if somebody was choking me.Love of Death2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
These aren't nightmares, they're worse than nightmares. They're these terrors. And it feels as if somebody was choking me.
These aren't nightmares, they're worse than nightmares. They're these terrors.
They're these terrors.
Sometimes you wake up in a cold sweat. Sometimes you see flames. You see people that you love dying, dying horrible, gruesome deaths. You see people that you hate outliving you. You can't sleep. For long, anyways.
Another night. Morning rose.
Smiles haunt you. Joy forgets you. Happiness skips you. Ghosts, they avoid you. At the end of the world, before falling, the last thing you see is the body of your most cherished one floating by. They are dead. And so are you.
Another night. After day.
You lie in wait for sleep to come. Sleep never comes. You have these terrors. They aren't nightmares, they'
The CarpenterHis focus was blurred, and he could only truly see clearly if he tensed and opened his hazel eyes, like a young dog when their master reveals a toy. The polished counter of the bar almost made his elbow slip as he tried to rest his head on his hand, too disoriented to keep it up himself. She was still talking, the auburn girl he had just met, not seeming to notice the drunken state of her companion. He didn't even really remember her name, Xela or something, she was just another girl.The Carpenter2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
"And then," She continued, her voice not necessarily annoying, but still a little over pitched, "she was just like, 'Well, I did lie to you a tiny bit about the dress. But I hope that's okay.' And then I was just standing there like, are you serious? Isn't that stupid Sorren?" He looked up at her for a moment before replying.
"Yeah it is. I mean, who could lie to you?" He forced a smile, trying to hide his hypocritical statement.
"Oh Sorren, you're kind." She giggled as she leaned into him, lif
The Waiting GameHear me read itThe Waiting Game2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
I gripped the ladder fiercely until my knuckles whitened and my bones complained at the strain. I remained this way, like a rigor mortised superhero until my mind associated the tight throttling hold on the wood with the concept of choking someone; at which point I let go, momentarily, alarmed by the violence of my own thoughts.
The slight shudder rippled up through the fluidous wood and you complained loudly of my carelessness. We laughed and you dripped paint down trying to cut open my scalp with splashes of mint. Mrs Coraline banged her walking stick against her kitchen window with a resolute scowl and we tried to straighten our faces and appendages accordingly.
You had steady hands, so you had gone up the ladder to carefully apply the paint to the gutters. We had been promising to do this job for a year now, but last summer we were too lost in love to be found by anyone, even someone looking so hard as Mrs Coraline. Th
The Story of a Homeless Young GirlThere she lies on dirty pillowsThe Story of a Homeless Young Girl2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Scratching the bottoms of sidewalks
Some people wish for a house made of gold
Well, she just wishes for a home.
Some people wish for a lovely dinner
While she simply wishes for a meal.
But a smile lies
On her innocent face
For she does not yet know greed.
Keep in mind the girl's young age
Her innocence toward anger and rage.
A girl with the eyes filled with silent pain
But nevertheless, a smile on her face.
One day a man came about
And offered her something to eat.
Two apples and a bread of wheat.
She took some bread crumbs and gave them to the birds
Without crying a tear or saying a word.
So she split what remained of the bread right in two
And gave him one of the fruit.
"Let's share it," she said, with a grin on her face
"For there's nobody else willing to."