A Best FriendA good friend will be there for you when you cry.
A best friend will be there crying with you.
A good friend will keep your secret if you murder someone.
A best friend will have been your accomplice.
A good friend will let you commit suicide.
A best friend will be holding your hand as they jump in front of a train with you.
A good friend will mourn for you if you die before them.
A best friend will follow you.
A good friend will be at your execution to say goodbye.
A best friend will be in a second electric chair right next to you.
A good friend will say it's not a good idea to throw that explosive into the powerplant that's destroying natural habitat.
A best friend will count down to three, giving you the signal to throw it.
A good friend will ignore the fact that you kidnapped someone to torture.
A best friend will provide the chloroform.
A good friend will yell at your ex for breaking up with you.
A best friend will murder them
My Last RideI've looked forward to this day since the ride opened. I've always loved roller coasters, but I'm afraid of heights, so I never went on the ones with loops. I slowly started riding bigger coasters and... well, when this opened, I knew it was time.My Last Ride2 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
It's the biggest roller coaster in the world, and this is the only park it's been built at. I had to travel from the United States to the United Kingdom, and it took all my life savings, but... I won't be needing that money anymore. I told myself I'd ride this coaster without second thought, no matter what the cost.
It's not for everybody. In fact, many are horrified by it. Hell, when I saw the scale model of it, my heart leapt into my throat and was struck by excitement and fear. I never thought it'd be built in my lifetime... it's time to face many things; my fear of heights, my fear of loops, and most of all... it's time to face death.
The Euthanasia Coaster begins with a 1600 top, and the ride up is extremely steep. It's so steep, you'd f
UtopiaI could be executed for writing this. Hell, they'd probably throw me in prison just for catching me with a pen and paper. But I have to get this down... I know it's only a matter of time before they realize that I'm a free thinker... and then they'll make sure I never existed.Utopia2 years ago in Philosophical More Like This
Ten years ago, the entire world changed. They had been building up to this point, and they were incredibly successful. I saw it comiand I tried my best to tell people that this isn't how we want to live. We don't want to be controlled... but they were already brainwashed.
The government showed their true colors. Libraries and theatres were torn down, artwork and historical artifacts were burned to ashes, and the world's most renowned musicians were gunned down like animals. Oh yea... the animals... you'd be lucky to even find a picture of one, let alone a real one.
Anyone caught with any sort of art, music, unorthodox clothing, stuffed animals, books, religious practice... anything that made someone individual...
The Suicide PhotographerI am a photographer.The Suicide Photographer2 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
People hate my work. You may ask why, but when you see my shots, you'll understand. My work is very controversial. I am sadly proud of my photos, for I may be the only one who's adopted this style.
I capture photos of suicide.
No matter where I go, I carry my camera with me, ready to shoot anything that may happen. There's surprisingly a lot of suicides in this city and the next city over. I've gotten beautiful shots.
The most common ones are those of people jumping from buildings. Of course, there's usually a crowd of people pleading for the person to come down, so I know right away what I am about to get. I stand to get a good perspective, hold up my camera, and snap the photo right as the person plunges to their demise. I take a couple one after the other so I make sure to get the perfect shot. People surrounding me shout at me and call me heartless.
On the contrary, I am more caring than them. That person wanted to end their life, so they had a perfect reason t
My Best Friend is a GhostIt was a dare, and I took it. You know how people get when being pressured by their friends, being clucked at like a chicken and calling you a scaredy cat. Well, they were my friends... yup, friends.My Best Friend is a Ghost2 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
It was an old broken down mine shaft. Cliche, I know. It had caved in during a mine blast that went wrong, and many miners were injured. Luckily, no one died... that is, until a young girl was curious enough to explore the ruins. The mine was, and still is, unstable.
The girl's name was Aida, but her last name was never released for unknown reasons. She was ten when she crawled in to look around, hoping to find some little treasures to take home. She was very adventurous. Unfortunately, part of the ceiling fell down and crushed her to death. She wasn't found until a week later when they discovered her footsteps in the mud leading to the mine. Her body was carefully recovered, and there was a closed casket funeral.
Well, years later, stories were made and rumors were spread that Aida still
Maybe Aliens are RealMaybe aliens are real.Maybe Aliens are Real2 years ago in Philosophical More Like This
Maybe they've already been here. Maybe some still are.
Maybe they don't look any different than us. Maybe they don't have big heads, weird skin, and big bulgy eyes. Maybe they look just like us. Maybe they're the same inside and outside. Maybe their blood is red. Perhaps they have a few evolutionary traits that are more or less advanced than us, but maybe they're able to blend in as "specially gifted." Maybe some humans can do those "special things" too.
Your best friend could be from another planet. Maybe you are. Maybe your parents never told you that you cam from another world. But you don't seem too different, do you? You look like humans, you speak like humans, you act like humans...
Maybe life forms on other planets aren't much different than us. Cultural differences, maybe, and perhaps the progress of their civilizations, are slower or faster than ours.
What if an entire society is from a different planet, just fitting in with us? Maybe France is fr
Just a Fashion?Emo. We've heard this term for years. I don't exactly remember when it actually started, but I didn't personally hear of it until my sophomore year. All we had was punk and gothic, but now gothic and emo are completely confused with each other. And now I'm ashamed whenever people accuse ME of being emo because they don't know the difference. Not even Southpark knows the difference.Just a Fashion?2 years ago in Emotional More Like This
The problem is, emo is associated with "emotion," but a depressed emotion at that. When people think of emo, they think swoopy haircut colored black, black clothing with occasional stripes, plaid, checkers, etc., hate for the sunlight, hating EVERYTHING, and writing depressing poems... oh, and cutting yourself! This is the problem...
There are people who do all these things that are not emo. I knew a very popular girl in 8th grade, Courtnie (yes, with an i), and she confided in me that she cut herself too, showing me her marks. Mind you, this was your stereotypical preppy ditz that was pretty much better tha
I Lost My GlassesI lost my glasses.I Lost My Glasses2 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
I thought I left them on the table, but I checked and nothing was there except something sharp. I have terrible vision; everything is so blurry, I can't make out shapes.
I move through the house, feeling around. My wife must be painting the walls. I see dark shapes on them, and they're wet to the touch. It's so quiet it the house...
I step on something wet and squishy. I really wish the kids would not bring the pool toys in the house.
I look in the kids' bedroom and say, "girls, have you seen my glasses?" No response, but I can see a lump under each of their blankets. They must be sleeping.
I check the bathroom, but the lightbulb went out. I feel around, and my hand touches the counter. I hate it when the kids splash water all over the place. It's thicker though... soap?
I go into the bedroom and see my wife standing near the window. Of course I could only see her blurry shape cause of my terrible eyesight. I'm getting old.
"Hunny, have you seen my glasses?" She didn
Hell is HeavenI died a week ago. My house caught on fire due to a gas leak, and I unfortunately didn't make it. My family is devastated, but they're always praying to God that I'm happy. Well, they've got it half right.Hell is Heaven2 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
I don't know what Heaven is like because... well, I didn't end up there. Frankly, everything is a sin, so in retrospect, only babies who meet their early end go to Heaven cause they didn't get a chance to sin. But you know, I've cursed, I've had premaridal sex, I've masturbated, I've lied, and I've... well, stolen from my mom's purse. So... here I am. In Hell.
I'm not sorry though. Turns out, our idea of Hell was all wrong. It's not firey, souls aren't being tortured for all eternity... and don't get me started on Satan. He's the most chill dude I've ever met. And boy is he attractive. He's tall, thin, has black hair slicked back into a small ponytail, and he wears a simple black t-shirt with scarlet skinny jeans! He even wears freakin' Airwalks!
Oho man, Hell has got to be th
Remember when I Died?Remember when I died? No, probably not. As you stood there laughing in my face, pushing and shoving me, telling me everything that was wrong with me... I fell. I fell hard. I've fallen before, but when I fall that hard...Remember when I Died?2 years ago in Emotional More Like This
I wasn't me anymore.
Breaking down and crying, your laughter increased, and you called upon others to join you. It's fun to see someone cry, fun to see their world being torn apart, fun to have nothing more to live fo--
Where did that knife come from? Was I carrying it around with me? Did you have it? Who knows... I don't remember. But it's on you. My blood is on your hands.
But you're happy now. You're happy I'm gone. You're all happy I'm gone. I'm just sad I didn't get a chance to write my suicide letter. Hmm, you'd probably laugh at that too. Because I'm so funny. Because my pain is so funny. Because my death is so funny.
What about my friends? Are they sad I'm gone? Of course not. No one can be trusted. Everyone will betray their most loyal friends. People
Simon SaysSimon says hop on one foot.Simon Says2 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Simon says wave both hands above your head.
Touch your nose.
Oop, I didn't Simon says! Okay, let's try again.
Simon says take one step forward.
Simon says jump three times.
I didn't say Simon says!
Okay, Simon says to crouch down.
Simon says jump back up.
Simon says take a step to your right.
Simon says go "woo! woo! woo!
Simon says act like a chicken.
*sigh* Tsk tsk tsk. I didn't say Simon says!
Going on a DietPeople are so fat. Why do we get so fat?! It's frustrating! No matter what we eat, we gain weight! I don't even wanna eat anymore, but I know I have to! Humans need food to survive! But I don't WANNA give up my favorite foods!Going on a Diet1 year ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Some people don't care, or they do, but they take it out on themselves by eating more. I see fat people EVERYWHERE, and it's disgusting, but then I see people who are practically skin and bone, and that's not much better! Though I'd rather be stick thin than fat!
I'm really not trying hard enough to lose weight though... I need to REALLY crack down on my diet and give up some of my favorite things to eat...
Looks like I gotta cut back on eating other humans. *sigh*
To Girls Who Love to blame Boys for Your Problems,Dear Girls,To Girls Who Love to blame Boys for Your Problems,1 year ago in Letters More Like This
Please stop playing the victim.
Boys are not always the cause of your problems, chances are, you are. You just refuse to acknowledge it.
The more you blame them, the more bitter and spiteful you will become. Stop destroying yourself from the inside because you cannot take responsibility for the mess you've created.
Stop playing the victim. Get up and do something about it. Crying won't help, nor will hating the opposite sex.
If you're tired of being called a slut because you love breaking hearts, than stop sleeping around. If you're tired of being called a bitch, than stop treating boys like shit. If you're tired of being treated as an object, gain some self-esteem. If you're tired of starving yourself because of a break up, that's your problem. We told you to eat, but you won't listen. You only blame it one him, but who destroyed the relationship in the first place?
Whither away like the twig you are if it makes you feel better.
Problems are problems, they all have solutio
My Tall and Skinny FriendMy Tall and Skinny Friend2 years ago in Humor More Like This
I have a friend. He's pretty impressive, I show him off all the time. People must be super jealous though, cause they either run away screaming or faint.
My friend is much taller than me and very skinny. I tell him I envy him because I have to be careful to keep my weight where I want it. He's always dressed so nicely too! In a black suit and tie, he always looks like he's going to a business meeting.
It's very hard to tell how my friend is feeling because... well, this may sound weird but... he has no facial features. His skin is snow white and just has a... completely blank face. He has no mouth either, so he can't talk. He usually just writes me messy little notes.
He's a weird dude, obviously. But he's super fun. He can duplicate his arms as much as he wants, and they can also stretch far distances. He can also change his height, but he never goes below eight feet. I don't think he's able to.
He keeps to himself when it comes to personal stuff. I tried to ask him wher
The False Life of PenelopeHer name was Penelope,The False Life of Penelope1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
And she wasn't quite right.
Her life was unhappy
And a constant battle to fight.
Only at the age of twelve,
Poor Penny was alone.
In this world she did dwell,
But craved a world of her own.
The story of Penny
Is a sad one indeed,
For her mind was uncanny
And was in dire need
Of jubilance and cheer
In which she did not hold,
But strived to engineer
With imagination so bold.
Dear Penny was young
And was too shy to make friends,
So she invented the one
Who she'd use to make amends.
The internet is perfect
For hiding who you are,
And many would disrespect
Other users from afar.
So Penny became the person
She so wished to be,
Having no idea it'd worsen
Her sadness and misery.
Hanging out in sites and chats,
She quickly gained the trust
Of those who believed her stats,
Which were secretly robust.
Penny, oh sweet Penny,
How she went so very far
Was extraordinarily uncanny,
Why hide who you truly are?
She posted random pictures
And claimed they were her own,
Honesty is a CrimeHonesty is a crime.Honesty is a Crime1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
Tell people you're sad,
You're crying out for attention.
Tell people you're angry,
You're a threat to others.
You say you're not afraid of death,
You think you're the shit.
Honesty is a crime.
If you have beliefs,
You're out of your mind.
If you love gore,
You're a sociopath.
If you have a disorder,
Everyone should pity you.
Honesty is a crime.
It's not okay to be sad.
It's unacceptable to be angry.
It's impossible to not fear death.
You can't show emotion
Because you're craving sympathy.
Give me attention,
For I am human,
And I am so very special.
Autobiography of Slender ManHiya there! You should all know me by now. If you don't, I should like totally slap you. My name is Slender Man! That's right-o, Slendy in the hizzow! I can't actually talk, so I'm writing this on a bunch of notes. You won't hafta look hard cause... they're gonna be all taped to your house. So what do I do for a livivng? Scaring the shiznit outta y'all! HAYO!! But, I do have a personal life other than the pranks. I have friends, whom you know as well. I have to keep a notepad and pencil on hand to communicate, but s'all gewd in da hood, yo.Autobiography of Slender Man2 years ago in Humor More Like This
My bestest bro in the whole wide 3rd dimension is my home boy, Jeff. That's right! Da KILLAH! Jeffy's fun to hang around cause he's always so happy! He has to carry eyedrops in his pocket though cause, since he has no eyelids, his eyeballz keep drying up. He said it was worth the sacrifice though.
One of Jeff's biggest gear grinders is the supposed "Jane the Killer." He's all like, "I dunno what da fuck peeps be talkin about, I don't know dat bitch.
KarmaThey say, "good things happen to good people," "what goes around, comes around." Does it?Karma1 year ago in Emotional More Like This
Think back on your life and count how many good things have happened to you. Compare that to how many good things you've done for the benefit of others. Do they match up? have you gotten good things because you were good?
Compare that to the number of bad things that has happened to you. Doesn't seem fair, does it?
Now think about bad people you've known that seem to get everything they want, even though they've never done good for themselves or others. That doesn't match up either, does it? Mr./Ms. Horrible has got a pretty good life.
I believed in Karma. But for years, that belief has diminished. Watching the world, I see good things happen to bad people, and good people are left to simply watch and die. Sure, you're a good person, and you have had good things happen, but when it comes down to it, it's raining. When it rains, it pours, but after the storm, there's a rainbow. However, you
Jacky's LetterTo the parents and family of Madeline,Jacky's Letter2 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
My name is Jacky Stiles, and as you have probably guessed, I've killed Maddy. The reason I'm writing this, however, is because I want you to know the truth of what happened that day.
As you know, Maddy was a very happy, carefree girl. In the hours I spent with her, I learned that very quickly. She was friendly, funny, and overall just a great girl. She was just a little scared of me, but otherwise, she spoke to me as if we were just having a normal conversation.
Even after I hurt her the first couple of times, it didn't seem to bother her. I'll admit it frustrated and angered me, and I also found it a little intimidating. She smiled and was so carefree and honest. She never once cried from fear.
But I'm not writing this to tell you what I did to her, I'm writing this because she'd want you to know. She died happy. When I asked her why she was so carefree and unafraid, she said it was because nothing could be done. She knew she couldn't get away, a
DermatillomaniaI want to be perfect. I just want to be perfect. But so much is getting in my way... I hate my ugly body. This horrible skin with all of its imperfections. It's driving me mad.Dermatillomania2 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
I look in the mirror and see a blemish on my cheek. It's not quite ready to go yet, but I feel it! I feel it! It's there, and I don't want it to be. I want it gone.
I push at it, trying to get the defect out, but it won't surface. All I managed to accomplish was two deep nail marks in my face. I get frustrated and I scratch at it, trying to get the skin off to open the pore. It bleeds a little bit. I try squeezing again, but nothing. The nail marks break the skin slightly.
I grab a sewing needle. They say not to do this, but I'm desperate. I try to gently tear open the blemish. I really don't want to scar my face, so I have to be careful. But even after that, it won't come out! I scratch vigorously at it until there's a large, bleeding scrape on my cheek. I don't pay much attention to that, for I see the
You should have seen all the people crying.You should have seen all the people crying.You should have seen all the people crying.1 year ago in Emotional More Like This
When the announcements came on,
that Monday morning, a terrible silence had befallen our tiny school.
The voice over the intercom was shaky, not her usual cheery self,
she was careful with her words, because the weight they carried
would be the rock that destroyed the silence.
She said that you had died, that they had found you in your room,
with cuts plastered on your wrist, and your head down slightly,
just enough to see your vacant eyes.
The prayer was a eulogy, filled with specs of your life,
filled with details of your minimal successes,
but it was you all the way.
God, you should've seen all the people crying.
And they were people you would hardly expect.
Be it the somber eulogy, or the thin film of melancholy that had descended upon the classroom,
by the time the girl clicked off of the intercom, the classroom was a school of muffled cries.
Or distant stares. Or hidden smirks.
The girl with the face made of makeup, t