strange habits (FFM 4)Coming home had always been a challenge for Natasha. The music was constantly just a little too loud, the ghosts in the corner too rowdy, the poltergeist in the attic too fond of guilt-tripping, or just plain tripping. Everything in the old house seemed to crowd Natasha, to shout and jeer and laugh; she even found the ornaments distasteful and a little embarrassing. And all of that, that was before she even began thinking about her family.strange habits (FFM 4)1 year ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Nonetheless, here Natasha was, making the seven hour drive back to the house she'd grown up in. Only on one day of the year did her family enforce attendance, enforce 'social behaviour' and 'family spirit'; it wasn't worth the consequences of not going.
Natasha drew out the trip as long as she was able. She stopped multiple times at petrol stations, buying a chocolate bar, or a drink. She tried desperately to ignore one over-friendly cashier, who wouldn't stop asking questions;
"Why aren't you out partying? Young thing like you, I'd'
ScarsI am not my scars.Scars1 year ago in Scraps More Like This
The thin, glossy one running from the bottom of my thumb to the middle of my forearm. The feeling of the bone snapping again and again as their tests dragged on for weeks and weeks. Stitched up and cut open again and again until they found the drug that would make me stronger and the one that could kill me in a heartbeat.
I am not my scars.
The thick, raised one; dark against my pale skin. I remember the knife and I remember the pain that exploded in my gut as she twisted the blade until I screamed. The cold steel that slipped into my belly and the slick pool of blood that spread around my fallen body.
I am not my scars.
The jagged, white one that crosses over an empty eye socket. The taste of blood in my mouth as they forced the blade around the bone and pulled hoarse screams from my body that left my throat raw and aching. The agony of torture as they demanded answers I didn’t know to questions I could never understand.
I am not my scars.
The words feel empty
harmonizei'm built on broken bones and metronomesharmonize3 years ago in Scraps More Like This
her alto trills, his hollow tones
a second verse she'll never know
so sweet and sweet and down we go
the cords stretch and scratch but never match
the off beat tears he'll surely catch
the droplets lead a song of their own
recorded on heartstrings, a song i know
his words they ring and the hurt they bring
it's been so long but i choose to sing
and maybe he'll hear the music we make
( it's been so long but i choose to break. )
KeyI seemed to know too early the words that make children mature,Key2 years ago in Scraps More Like This
Hidden within the chaos of my room was a dark snake that spoke,
Blue flames ran up the white curtains in the quiet of the night,
The creatures from the crevices chased me deeper into my dreams.
A little girl reaches for me behind bulletproof glass,
Surrouded by liquid darkness filled with living silver blades,
She tells the tale not written in the dusty tomes of humankind,
Of hungered, black creatures that swallowed the keys.
In a golden cage lives a singing bird taught to stay silent.
The soul hidden under its wing was mistaken for a demon.
One day it will rise beyond the painted dome of the church,
To ascend all alone to melt into the sacred Sun.
Death Wears Pinstripes Chapter 1: Second Chances Darkness is an endless river, a river in which the souls of the dead swim in an eternal cycle through oblivion.Death Wears Pinstripes Chapter 1: Second Chances3 years ago in Scraps More Like This
She flowed quite easily in darkness, with her limbs lingering in an unfamiliar—yet accommodated—numbness. She was floating and at the same time sinking, bending and dipping like a leaf being dragged through the currents. And like a leaf, she had no awareness of her own self. Cold, damp hands ran over her body, trailing over the only source of certainty she was sure of. No sound could be heard, and no light could be seen—were her eyes closed? Did she even have eyelids? Shaky hands moved upwards—no, they moved linearly; a world like this had no concept of up and down.
Darkness smelled of earth, and bubbled like a sea of lava. It pained her ears as it rang vividly though her body. She searched desperately for the source, but the weight of darkness slowed her movements. She travelled with no understanding of time,
Death Wears Pinstripes Chapter 2: Compromise A voice is only useful if there are lips brave enough to utter the words needed to be said.Death Wears Pinstripes Chapter 2: Compromise3 years ago in Scraps More Like This
Chiara was speechless. She had wrenched her body from “The Duke’s” strong grasp, fell to her knees, and sat in silence trying to comprehend the severity of his claim. How was it possible for her to even be in the Underworld? As her hands gripped her head, she exhaled a loud and labored breath—that shaky sigh slipping out of her chapped lips. After several repeated breaths, she caught the scent of smoke and looked up to see Death above her, blowing smoke from his cigarette into her direction. The cigarette looked hand-rolled with a bent tip which flickered with its little flame.
“Does this mean…I am a ghost?” Chiara finally called out, gripping the thin white fabric of her dress. Death laughed, his voice bouncing off the walls in the small room.
“You are breathing and walking,
Message to my younger selfAaaagh! Don't listen to anything I say! We might cause a time paradox!Message to my younger self3 years ago in Scraps More Like This
Family DinnerThe shop guy gave me a smile and a big lollipop. "I don't think I can finish this, Mommy!" I licked it once. It was like bubblegum. I don't like bubblegum. But Mommy said you shouldn't ever be rude.Family Dinner1 year ago in Scraps More Like This
Mommy took the lollipop. "Focus, Clara."
"Okay, okay, sorry Mommy!" When I say sorry, Mommy lets me do anything I want. I grabbed her hand and pulled her to the cribs. She didn't even complain or tell me to slow down.
"Are you looking?"
There was rows and rows. All the little babies squirming. They looked really soft. How do I pick?! I saw one with big eyes and a little bubble at its mouth. Gross, I don't like bubbles. I pulled Mommy to the next one. This was nice! Fat cheeks. I giggled.
"What do you do, Clara?"
What, oh yes oh yes I remembered. I put my finger out. The baby didn't reach up. "Come on, you stupid baby!"
I looked at her and made a BIG sniff. You would not believe how big! "I'm sorry, Mommy. I just don't want to mess up." I scrunched my face into a c