Making The Stars JealousAnnabeth was silent as she tiptoed along the wooden slats, careful not to make a single noise that may disturb him from his thoughts. As carefully as she could muster, she slipped her sandals off her feet and layed them next to his abandoned trainers and orange t-shirt. Then staying quiet she crept up to him, sitting on the edge of the pier staring out at the lake in the sunset. She could see why he had chosen this time and place as his refuge. There was no sound but that of the water as it danced beneath their feet, no screaming battle calls or cries of pain from the injured, infact it almost seemed too peaceful, compared to what they were both used to. Lunging forward she clasped her hands over his eyes and giggled like a small girl.Making The Stars Jealous4 years ago in Romance More Like This
"Guess who." She whispered into his ear, her mouth so close it kinda tickled.
"Grover?" He replied smiling brightly, Annabeth shook her head.
"Guess again." She teased, attempting to flick a strand of her curly, blonde hair, that had managed to escape be
Dalek Week 2014, Day 5: Good MorningV. GOOD MORNINGDalek Week 2014, Day 5: Good Morning5 months ago in Humor More Like This
Deryn wakes to sunlight and birdsong.
In Alek's bed.
Where she's not supposed to be.
They didn't get up to much last night, but if Volger catches her… She hurries her jacket and boots on.
Alek awakens as she does so. "You're still here?" he asks, bleary.
"Aye. When's Volger due?"
He checks his watch. Curses. Scrambles for his own clothes.
Out the window it is. She pushes up the sash, prepares to climb; Alek stops her with a kiss.
"Good morning," he whispers.
She grins. "And a better night, mm?"
Brisk footsteps on the stairs.
Alek blushes; Deryn escapes.
Dalek Week 2014 - Good Morning“Good morning, your princeliness!”Dalek Week 2014 - Good Morning5 months ago in Humor More Like This
Alek groaned and slowly blinked open his eyes. He unstuck his face from the pillow and squinted blearily at the clock on his nightstand, trying to make sense of the fuzzy figures—without much success.
“What time is it?” he asked Deryn tiredly, his tongue heavy and sticky in his mouth.
“Almost noon,” she answered brightly, entirely too awake for the current situation. Alek’s head pounded in time with her words. “I brought you breakfast,” she added. He could hear the smirk in her voice.
He tried to sit up, and his stomach lurched in protest. He gave up and flopped back into the pillows, immediately regretting the sudden movement when his skull throbbed painfully in response. “God’s wounds, I feel awful. I don’t think I could eat anything.”
She guffawed loudly, and he winced. “Aye, that’s what you get when you challenge a Scot to a drinking contest!” And
Softly DriftingSoftly Drifting4 months ago in Short Stories More Like This
I let the wind carry me, feeling it on my back and whipping through my hair, to my destination along familiar cracked sidewalks and charming pastel houses.
I’ve made this trip a thousand times and I know it like my favorite song- each bit of lyrics imprinted in my head as if it was glued there carefully. I could sing this song with my eyes closed.
I watch a single fall leaf drift from a tree in front of me as the wind cradles its golden fall to the ground in a series of gusts, also managing to create a spiderweb of my dark brown hair against the cloudy sky.
The spring in my step doesn’t falter, even though I try to force it out of me. I probably look quite strange, with my shorts and tank top in the cold of the morning, but this morning I don’t care. Neither did I yesterday, or the day before that, or the week before that. Why? Well, I’ll just let you find out. Maybe the wind will lead you to the answer, as well.
I stop in front of a house that looks like all th
Bittersweet Candy Bowl- LucyOne thing.Bittersweet Candy Bowl- Lucy5 months ago in Short Stories More Like This
Only one thing brought me here.
One thing brought the tears.
One thing brought the self hatred.
One thing brought the world around to a shattering halt of high pitched sounds and bright lights.
He hated those, didn’t he? Loud noises? Well, I hate him.
I hate him.
He hates me.
I have every right to hate him.
I can’t even listen to myself.
What has this world come to, when parts of my brain are so disconnected, so lacking?
I should hate him.
I told him I loved him.
He told me he hated me.
LISTEN TO ME.
Just this once.
Just this once don’t hate me.
Just this once don’t mind me.
Just this once love me.
It’s too late. I’m too late. I was too late.
The bow is still around my neck, but it feels so different, so restricting...
The tears, they are different tears from my younger days... so violent...
The loved kindling hatred brought me here.
Let me just spread m
Not Just Last Night's DreamI rode through timeNot Just Last Night's Dream2 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
in a screen of all colors
and all light-
and all fake.
Darkness, at first
devoid of stars
devoid of life
devoid of anything.
Light filtered through the small
crack in the door
of the dusty closet
that had sat there
and now here I was
in something that was all
but alive itself.
Shaky hand against the door
a small push
a flow of fresh air
to clear out the staleness of breath
the fearfulness of breath
the memory of breath.
worn, but alive
in my own
and my legs flying out behind
too new for the old world
that I had discovered
Thumping in my head
pounding behind my eyes
dust behind me
in a cloud
of dead stars
clustering as my pursuers
coughed and spluttered.
A rounded cor
Dalek Week 2014 - GenderbendThere’s something…off about the new boy, but he can’t quite put his finger on it. He’s got all these odd mannerisms, always so sodding polite and uptight. But it’s not just that—the lad speaks Clanker, for crying out loud! He’s practically got a nanny who follows him around and barks at him in that rough language of theirs, moustache bristling. And he doesn’t understand why he would lie about where he came from—even though all that blether about living in a nearby village had been barking pathetic, to say the least.Dalek Week 2014 - Genderbend5 months ago in General Fiction More Like This
But it goes beyond that, beyond the obvious. He has little tics and habits that, while subtle, are amplified by Dylan’s suspicions about the boy.
The way his voice will sometimes squeak higher when he’s nervous, or how he’s constantly clutching at the fabric of his trousers. How he’s always touching his ears, for no apparent reason. His face colouring whenever he meets anyone&
The Night's Full MoonThe stars shine brightly, as always, and the breeze is cool, as always, and the grass is waving, as always, but not as always everything’s wrong.The Night's Full Moon7 months ago in Short Stories More Like This
You can feel it.
The air... there’s something foul about it. And the stars... it almost seems like... Well, it seems like one is missing. The brightest one.
The moon is no longer white and shimmery, but a rotting yellow, and the grass’ movements are more like clawing hands than gentle ocean currents.
I lay down, with the canopy of grass covering my vision of the sky, and I close my eyes to let the tears out.
The torment of tears.
The river of tears.
They consume me, rip me apart limb-by-limb like a pack of rabid dogs.
And there I lay, maskless and naked, in the horrid yellow light with the screeching stars and rough grasses, and I know. I know why this has all happened.
The night is a werewolf, and death is it’s full moon.
parentsAlek frowns at his computer screen. "What am I to do with a loris?"parents2 years ago in Humor More Like This
Thousands of miles away, Deryn leans back in her chair, rummaging for more crisps. "I don't know, daftie. It's your sidequest."
He checks the word describing the hatched egg. "It's 'perspicacious'. What does that mean?"
She Googles it. " 'Clever'."
"I was expecting something like 'ferocious'."
She grins. "Babies surprise you, Da."
He straightens, indignant. "I'm not its father!"
"Right. You hatched it, so really, you're its mum."
He glares; she winks; defeated, he sighs. "Shall we invade Istanbul now?"
She grabs more crisps. "Aye, Ma, let's."
Spider!It was just another day in biology, for both Chris and Seth, and Chris was back to her normal doodles on the side of her paper. By the amount of concentration she was putting into not contracting on biology, you would have thought that if she put that concentration into actually listening she’d be able do okay in Biology. But, because Chris is Chris, the world may never know.Spider!6 months ago in Short Stories More Like This
Meanwhile, Seth sat next her, paying just as little attention, but there was one important differing factor between the two- Chris would fail the class, and Seth would ace it.
In fact, at this very moment, he was studying his Latin, which, though unrelated to what was being taught at the moment, would probably aid him further in future science classes.
The scratching of Chris’ pencil on her paper, the transfer of the graphite of her narrow mechanical pencil to the paper, created the shape of a head. And another. Did she care it had no body? Nope. Did she care that she was the only girl in the ro
Dalek Week 2014 - Fairy Tales“Okay, you can be the princess and I can be the knight.”Dalek Week 2014 - Fairy Tales5 months ago in General Fiction More Like This
“What? I don’t want to be a princess!”
“Well, you’re the girl. You have to be. And I’m the boy so I get to be the knight.”
“Well, that’s what it’s always like in fairy tales. It’s the rules.”
“But fairy tales aren’t true, you ninny. They’re just stories.”
“And so that means that the rules aren’t true, too. So you can be the princess and I can be the dragon!”
“But I can’t be the princess! I’m a boy!”
“…Fine. You be the knight, and I’ll be the dragon. Deal?”
The Laws of ForgettingIt gets better, I say, when someone has lost someone, because it does. You know, I’ve realized that when you lose someone it’s not always their death that’s making you sad. It’s yourself. You make yourself guilty. You feel that if you don’t cry enough for them, don’t die enough for them, don’t feel sad enough for them, that you are a bad person. You don’t want to let go of your sadness, because you’re afraid if you let go of your sadness you will be letting go of them as well. There’s a point where you have to realize that not being sad about them is the greatest thing you can do for them, because dying for someone is not the best thing you can do. Living for someone is. They’re fine if you forget them slowly, as you are bound to eventually. And I’m not telling you that you should never cry, and that you should be happy the second they’re gone. It doesn’t work like that. I know. You should cry, aThe Laws of Forgetting3 months ago in Philosophical More Like This
Smile“Zack,” Jean groaned. “You are not that hot.”Smile7 months ago in Short Stories More Like This
Zack looked over at the Aphrodite cabin again.
“Are you sure? They sure seem to like my hot a-”
“Oh gods, Zack. Shut up.”
“What do you know about looks?” His eyes sparkled. “You wear jeans, sneakers, and a boring CHB t-shirt.”
“One, you’re wearing a CHB t-shirt too, and two, maybe I don’t want to waste my life on trying to make myself look good. I’d rather spend it training. Maybe that’s why I can beat you in a fight!”
Zack looked away, as if trying to figure out a come back and not being able to.
“But, sis, that’s not the point. Do you think Alicia thinks I’m hot?”
“Not her again.” Jean rolled her eyes. “I’m going to touch up on my sword fighting skills since capture the flag’s later today.” She murmured an annoyed ‘half-brothers’ as she stal
SpotsIt's that first bruise colored blob that distracts me. By touching it, I know there is no chance of survival.Spots2 months ago in General Fiction More Like This
Questions run through my head:
How did I get infected?
Where was I exposed?
Why me of all people?
Will my family be ok?
Oh stars. My family. Have I infected them? Or did they infect me?
I should be glad I'm the only one home. I say a quick goodbye to the hallway before locking myself in my room. That's where I first noticed the spot. That shall be the last piece of home I will see.
And the entire room is sick, just like me.
I grab the portscreen from my desk and comm the medics, alerting them to what I have. I can barely tell them, barely accept what's happened.
But I have the plague.
A single tear slides down my cheek as I comm my parents. I tell them how much I love and appreciate them before the androids come for me.
I take my portscreen with me as I hold my head high and am taken to the quarantines. My last piece of the outside world. Not for the news
When a character is more than nothingI can feel Heather in the quiets of my dayWhen a character is more than nothing2 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
through my bones and under my skin-
above it, too, as my hair grows longer and curlier
in the fake reflection
of the silently staring glass-paned door.
I can feel her strength in my bones,
her pain in my heart,
her fears in my head.
in that oh-so-Heather way
and I can’t help but sense how special
how beautiful it is.
Her brown eyes stare from my own green spheres
and she observes my world in a hungry
while I create her own world
with only my fingers
and the tips of her thoughts probing my brain.
Though her favorite color is green
and mine blue
and her flaws are different
and though I am weaker, in a sense
I can’t help but feel the connection-
the similarities of the deepness of our minds
between a pathway made of stars
connecting the real with the far off
galaxies of imagination.
She is my best friend
and my conscience.
LonelyLonely6 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
Lonely is sitting a dark room with no one there- the flickering light more irritating than helpful.
Lonely is standing in a crowd- a grain of sand on a beach, a molecule of air in the sky.
Lonely is not special, because lonely is a painting of greys and browns that molded together create nothing more than the parts in the whole.
Lonely is a question, and never a statement, and Lonely is painful in this way. You can never gain closure when Lonely is in your heart.
Lonely tears apart, not mends, and oftentimes you find yourself taking steps back instead of forward- no matter how hard you fight for grip.
Lonely is clingy but detached and explosive but contained.
Lonely is tears with no one to dry them up, and a broken glass with no one to sweep it up.
Lonely is me.
YellowYellow10 months ago in Short Stories More Like This
Yellow. Sunny, warm and buttery, spreading happiness like hot cocoa on a cold day.
Her hair waved in the breeze, lazy like a butterfly's wings.
She had been so perfect, so young... but time had seemed to steal it from her as if she had jumped and the wind was pulling away all that was making her herself.
She had to hold on to what made up her identity. She had to grasp it tightly before it flew away and left her. She had to keep it before she was less the skin and bones. Before her sickness reached those around her and showed.
Her cancer was hidden behind her smile like a caged animal. Trapped but reaching out. Black and scaley and dark, all that was not her. The opposite.
She was sitting on the sterilized metal, inhaling the scent that dominated her senses.
She was only seven. It was summer.
She should be out, free and wild and young.
But what had made her beautiful and lively before had gone long ago. She was only an imprint of what she had been in the past with her beautiful yellow
Dalek Week 2014, Day 6: CollegeVI. COLLEGEDalek Week 2014, Day 6: College5 months ago in Humor More Like This
Alek frowns, confused. "I thought it was more like American football."
Deryn quirks an eyebrow. "You watch American football?"
"Bauer and Hoffman do." He chuckles, thinking of his bodyguards. His breath crystallizes in the December air. "They prefer the Steelers."
The name means nothing to Deryn. "Well, rugby's different, love."
Something happens on the field; there's a mighty cheer from the crowd: exactly like American football. Alek smirks. "So I see."
She explains the rules, though he isn't much interested in the outcome of the annual Cambridge-Oxford match. The warmth of her hand in his seems a far greater victory.
Still, You Lie ThereThat feeling you getStill, You Lie There4 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
When you're laying all alone
Just trying to forget
After all the star's have shone
But still, you lie there
With wide, tear stained eyes
You stare into the vast black night
Madness behind muffled cries
Any motion, sound or touch is a fright
But still, you lie there
Fears circling round and round
Of having your freedom clutched
Of being without sound
Of being touched…
But still, you lie there
Despite the darkness caving in
And all your thoughts pounding away
You still hold it together with a single pin
You still find a reason to stay
And still, you lie there
As the World Burns chapter 3As the World Burns chapter 32 weeks ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
I found the bathroom and rushed into a stall. I sat on the the toilet lid and started sobbing again, but these sobs were more real. More loud. More messy.
I hadn’t known why I was I crying earlier, but the question had now changed to why I hadn’t been crying before that. I felt that if I listed out all of my problems they would’ve be longer than Santa’s naughty list. I remembered Santa.... When I learned he was just my dad I felt disappointed, but at this moment I knew I’d give almost anything to see my dad again. He was worth much more than some old, stupid story.
As I cried I passed through the tragedy called my life. Every time that I felt I might be able to stop crying, the image of my dad’s empty eyes appeared in my mind’s eye.
He’s never coming back. Don’t you get it, Heather? Never.
An hour passed. Two. I felt that if I cried any longer I’d end up being able to do about a million sit ups the next mo
Percy's reaction to his official pictureSilently Percy pulled the door knob and poked his head into the room where Rick was sat at his computer, tapping his fingers against one of his cheeks, waiting for some good ideas to hit him. When he heard the door creak open he looked up suddenly and saw Percy watching him.Percy's reaction to his official picture3 years ago in Humor More Like This
"Hey." He said smiling, "What brings you here?"
"I was worried about you." Percy said walking in and shutting the door behind him. "I thought you'd gone blind!"
"Blind?" Rick asked a little confused. "I'm not blind, why would you think that?"
"Well because of THIS!" Percy lifted up the picture of himself which had been commissioned for the Ultimate Guide. "See I figured you must have been blind not to see that this..." Percy pointed a finger towards the picture. "This is NOT what I look like! For starters my hair looks nothing like that, all floppy and greasy looking. I have never made that weird smirky face in my life and RIPTIDE IS MADE OF BRONZE!"
"According to the Percy Jackson wiki I am 'A fairly
A Giver (A Poem)A GiverA Giver (A Poem)8 months ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
“A giver will always be in the know
On how to give up the materials, to let it go
Giving your time, energy, never doing it for a cost
No matter the time or the things that are gained or lost.
A fan of someone gives their time and money for support
Everyone and everything needs to dock on a gracious port
Their ship known as a dream, as it sails the ocean blue.
Powered by the givers of time like me or you.
It is hard and there might be a foul way.
But please, be the light of someone’s day.
To know there are people that will lose an arm and a liver
All to be the person that spent their life being your sacred giver.
Do not be afraid to give and support, give someone the ability to smile knowing that you care.”
The Prison WithinThe Prison Within6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
THE PRISON WITHIN
Child too old, why do we build the prisons within.
Pain and fear, alone we are cast, sanctuary we seek, a prison we find.
A freedom most difficult to find.
Better safe in our prison, than lost outside?
Some prisons seem nice and cozy, while others are filled with horrors.
Chains bind tight, it is impossible to grow, is this what life is all about?
Know your prison first, seek the cracks of light, a glimpse of what freedom could be.
Courage is what you need, change is your key.
What is inside, behind the door
that is not outside, on the other side of the door?
We are choice, so choose, unlock the door?
Imagination, beauty and love, all contained behind tall walls.
Outside, these things know no bounds.
Imagination's only limit is within yourself.
Freedom once found, how sweet it is...
© Matthew Barry 2008