F.E.A.R.The swift nimbus passed through once more, thought this time, the shimmering crystals weren't shinning. They were moving in strange patterns, something I had never seen before. Everything becomes distroted by it, and the feeling I get about being heavy and light isn't there; I just feel heavy. I can't move a single muscle in my body. I became petrified. Not even my eyes respond to my commands. I can hear everyone talking to me, but I just can't answer them. I feel so scared that I'll die right here. My heart is racing with adrenaline caused by fear, and that fear manifests itself as an old acquaintance.F.E.A.R. in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
Come play with me...
Alma. She's here.
My Life is a Museum of Fallen MemoriesThe things I see, but do not speak of...My Life is a Museum of Fallen Memories in Emotional More Like This
The things I hear, but do not speak of...
I could write a book...
But I won't...
People know I don't care, so why do they bother to do some stuff in front of me?
Is it all just to piss me?
How am I supposed to move past the past, when the past keeps following, even when I turned my back on it? I'm long past my past, so why won't it leave me alone?
Look, I've said all I could to you. I've done all I could.
I can't help it if I don't feel the same as I did back then.
I changed my path. I'm down a new road. All I need is for you to leave me alone. Please. Cut any string still attached, stop following my
What Grinds My GearsOf all things I've said and done, I regret the ones I said without thinking I could ever regret them. Not going into details, but there have been moments when I rushed into meaningless words or sentences just to please another one. And although I have perfect conscience that I regret them, I clearly still haven't learned that I can think before I open my mouth. Which makes me the worst kind of dumb; the one that no matter how hard he hits the wall, he comes back even further to hit it harder.What Grinds My Gears in Philosophical More Like This
Obviously my last message wasn't completely understood by some, but that's the price you have to pay when you're dealing with incompetent fuc- Pardon m
Schrodinger's CatSchrödinger's cat is a thought experiment often seen as a paradox devised by Austrian physicist Erwin Schrödinger in the 30's. It illustrates what he saw as the problem of the Copenhagen interpretation of quantum mechanics applied to everyday objects, resulting in a contradiction with common sense. The scenario presents a cat in a box, with a vial of poison that will break open at a random time. As the box is fully closed, there is no way to know if the cat is either dead or alive, and so, he may be seen as both. The only way to be sure is to open the box...Schrodinger's Cat in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
So, I decided to open the box, but it gave me some resistance. It's like it wanted t
A Helping HandI have nobody...A Helping Hand in Emotional More Like This
I need someone...
How hard is it to actually give someone a second chance? I mean, everybody makes mistakes. We are human. Errors and flaws are natural on us. We aren't computers, much less your ideals of God. I can bet you've screwed up at some point of your life. And you too. And you, and you, and you, and even you. You are not perfect, "you are not a beautiful and unique snowflake". Now, the thing is, we humans, have a thing that helped us survive and become a dominant species: Adaptability. Our brains can connect dots, add one to one, and see where the mistake has been made, so we don't repeat it in the future.
The WraithA pierced suit. I'm bleeding. Ammoless gun.The Wraith in Short Stories More Like This
There's really nowhere to go. I'm facing the end here.
I'm outnumbered. My stealth will do me no good, they can smell my blood.
Hounds of hell. I'll take you all down, no matter what. Bastards. You destroyed my home planet. I will have my revenge. Maybe not today, maybe not on this life. But I will. Mark my words.
And so it was. Somehow, when I rushed to my death, facing those beasts, out there, in that desert, while they tore my flesh out of my bones, feasting on my innards and drinking my blood, I felt myself leaving my body, and from above, I could see them. I could see me. I could see the life
War In The PlainsThere are thousands around here... Thousands and thousands of soldiers ready to give their lives for what they believe is right. But, the thing is, there is only one right side. I partake in no side in this war, I'm but an overseer; I stand alone in the middle of this battleground, having nothing but my horse and my sword. Reason and Emotion wander here on this plain, ready to engage on the greatest battle of our time. There is no love lost between them, and they promise to raze this to the ground. There will be nothing stading out here, only me, the Overseer. I will be the last man standing, cleaning the mess the two Brothers do, battle afteWar In The Plains in Short Stories More Like This
Mother.Have I ever told you how much I love you? I know I haven't taken the time to, and I'm writing this down at 2 am in the morning, to wake up at 6. Yeah mom, I know you'd kill me, but hey, this one is to you.Mother. in Emotional More Like This
I know I've caused you trouble. I know I've caused you pain. I know I've caused you sorrow.
And with all that, not even once I've told "I love you.". What an ungrateful bastard.
I'm sorry for all it. I never meant for you to get called to school because your son got into a fight with 15 other boys in one week, or how I used to scream all the time during class... Nor I ever meant you to cry for me when I did something that shamed you or dra
I am your monsterI am in all of youI am your monster in Emotional More Like This
And I grind and tear at you.
I just need you to slip
And I gain control.
That's how I like it;
Mistakes, doubt and lies.
I don't need excuses,
Just to see through your eyes.
No matter how hard you try,
I will win and take over.
You sad, pathetic being,
Just pray, run for cover.
I am the hand than forces you the pill,
And I know how bad it feels.
But you like it.
I am your liberator,
I am your manipulator.
In the end, I will win.
I am your monster.
I will pave your road to Hell,
And in the end,
You will help me.
I am your monster.
I won't let go.
#5 Take Me To AlaskaWe really could have gone, you know? I was really at the point of leaving everything and go live with you to that bus on Alaska. I really though you meant it. I'm so naïve. Never again will I believe words like that.#5 Take Me To Alaska in Emotional More Like This
Never say forever, 'cuz forever's a lie. All I needed was that. I was settled for life. I wouldn't have met anyone else if you had stay with me. Would I be better like that? I don't know, and there's no way of knowing. I don't want to find out.
losing a love and loving a lostSometimes you lose people, you know? Sometimes you lose someone you love, and they can't come back. They die on you, take a little piece of your heart with them, and they don't come back. Sometimes you lose someone you love and it breaks your heart, it claws at your lungs and it breaks through your chest and leaks through your pores, and you're practically fucking emanating sadness, but there's nothing you can do about it. You're stuck writing about it in stupidly long sentences because you don't know what else to do with this itch beneath your skin, and you need to fucking do something with it because it's going to eat you alive. The ache thlosing a love and loving a lost in Emotional More Like This
June 2nd.June 2nd.June 2nd. in Letters More Like This
Apparently this is counterproductive. My therapist thought this was going to be a wonderful idea, allowing me to get all of stresses and anger out in a 'safe environment.'
I don't think she expected me to hate on my ex boyfriend so fucking hard. I don't think that was a thing she was going for. But really, what did you expect from a girl who gave her broken heart to someone stupidly, only to have them return it in a worsened state?
It fucking hurt, what you did, thank you very much. And it may not sound like I'm over it, but I kind of am. I know, I know. I'm doing a really shitty job of acting like I'm over it.
To be h
Maybe that's what's worseOne upon a time, there were four children. They were grown, far into the ages of adulthood, but they were children. They carried bits of a child in them, clinging desperately to a corner of their hearts with a firm grip, unwilling to let go. They were children.Maybe that's what's worse in Short Stories More Like This
One was a fighter—grappling with his head and his hands to protect his heart that was left back home, back with his siblings and his wife. He graced himself with a uniform every morning and paroled his area, keeping it safe and sound so that no one he loved could be taken away from him, so that no one he needed would ever leave. He had the spirit of a soldier, always did. He washed th
April 13th.April 13th.April 13th. in Letters More Like This
I panicked in your office today, I thought of him.
Well, no. I didn't panic because I thought of him. After I had the panic attack, after it was all over and I could breathe again, I thought of him.
Which is kind of annoying, because he makes me angry. So, like, thanks.
I thought of that one time, sitting in the back of his mom's car, holding hands hidden beneath a sweatshirt so she couldn't see.
At that time I thought it was because our love was ours. It sounds so poetic and beautiful, right? Like it was something so pristine and pure that no one could taint it; so no one was allowed to touch it.
Now, though, I th
OCDI count the cracks in between the blocks of cement beneath me as I walk. Two. Two. Four. Four. Always four sets of that. Always two, two, four, four. Four times each. Look up. Blink 8 times. Two sets of four. Then back down. Two, two, four, four.OCD in Short Stories More Like This
Safe. Those numbers are safe. Even, not odd. Odd is bad. 'Odd' is what people call you when you're different. Bad. Wrong.
Two, two, four, four. I try to focus on something else, not on how many steps I'm taking, because there are people behind me. Person. One set of footsteps. Bad. Half of two. I think of it as two feet, and that's better. I feel better.
I round a corner, looking for my goal. Alwa
March 26th.Dear xx,March 26th. in Letters More Like This
I hate you. I hate the way you put me down, make me feel worthless. I hate your mood swings, and the way you apologize as if that can take back everything you said.
I hate you.
But I'd hate you even more if you left me, and I'm only saying this once.
Please don't die. Please.
Please don't leave me, too.
December 28th.December 28th.December 28th. in Letters More Like This
It snowed today and I didn't think about you. It was freeing, and I could breathe for an entire day without the crushing feeling of your thoughts pressing down onto my chest as if they belonged there.
They don't. Belong there, that is.
I didn't think about you until I saw a piece of looseleaf and felt like writing you this letter. Which is right now, at the end of the day.
I spent the day actually feeling alright. I'm learning to play the guitar, did you know? (Of course not. I don't even know why I ask questions. My therapist said I should, but this is so dumb. You can't fucking answer me.)
Anyway. I'm learning
March 18th.March 18th.March 18th. in Letters More Like This
This letter is for you. They're all not for you, though. Just because they say "Dear xx," on them, doesn't mean they're yours. Don't give yourself that much credit.
I have more xx's in my life.
Actually, no, I don't. But that doesn't mean these are all for you. Because they're not.
You know what I've kind of realized? I don't have friends. I don't. I've made myself kind to everyone, and no one notices me anymore.
I see groups of my "friends" going out, and I never go. I look, and I go, "oh, hey. You seem to really like me. I make you laugh and I make you smile and I thought we were friends."
But when it comes down
March 14th.March 14th.March 14th. in Letters More Like This
There's nothing special about me. I'm just a fucked up kid with too much time on her hands. Time is dangerous, you know? The more of it you have, the more greedy you become. Just a few more minutes of that TV show, please. Give me another hour to write my English paper.
I'm just a fucked up kid who takes things for granted. I don't value my time and I don't value my life and I certainly don't value you.
That's a lie. I'm sorry.
I have too much time on my hands nowadays, and I'm becoming greedy. But now, I just kind of want it to end. Whoever said that they would rather hurt than feel nothing has never had a broken he
AnniversaryAnniversaryAnniversary in Short Stories More Like This
Their meetings were always hurried, full of touches that were just a little too hard and kisses that involved too much tooth. Neither complained, there was no time for them to argue now. No time for prolonged, wordless struggles as to who was on top, no time to tease. It just happened.
It was only in the afterglow, the bittersweet sweat and laboured breaths, that they talked. Quiet murmurs accompanied by lips on skin, a squeeze of the hand on a hip.
"I haven't got long." Jaye would say, his once perfectly straightened and styled blond hair now a m
SolsticeSolsticeSolstice in Short Stories More Like This
Medici castle was on a scale that was rarely built on these days. Three hours ride out of Argonia at a gallop, it sat atop a cliff set just in from the sea, proudly overlooking the de'Medici's traditional holdings to Argonia's west. The land had been in the family for generations, and their line could be traced back even further than that. They were a force in politics, a well-worn family name that would come to Argonia's aid when asked and their constant grip on land so close to the city proved that.
However, it hardly made the place more welcoming in the winter
SelfishSelfishSelfish in Fantasy More Like This
It was a hurried, messy meeting. Over a month had passed and while neither of them particularly liked the risk involved, what was meant to be a quick report had rapidly turned into a fully blown make out session. Mattie, tall, dark and still clad in his three-day-worn military colours had made short work of shoving all of Marquis neatly stacked paperwork onto the floor, pressing the smaller man down onto the varnished wood instead. Marquis would have protested were he not so occupied by the tongue down his throat and Matties heavy hands tugging at his hair. Hed
Four over Five - KiribanFour over FiveFour over Five - Kiriban in General Fiction More Like This
Whoevers idea it was to host a bar in the beached hull of a long-forgotten mariner should be labelled a genius. The black sea sloshed sleepily outside, blanketed by a sky loose-knit enough for the stars to peek through. Im romanticising it all; grungy high-rises pushed the beach back day by day, sand was doped up on forgotten syringes and Heaven lay like some beached whale against the moon.
Heaven. Stupid name for a bar, really. Id lost track of how many drunkards had shambled in hollering for entertainment, having mistaken the buzzing neon sign outsi
SleepSleepSleep in General Fiction More Like This
Oh gods above, what had he done? The memories were fuzzy and vague, although there was no reason for them to be. Hed walked for hours, he remembered that part, though it had felt as though he had hovered above his own tired, charred body. Charred? A fire, he guessed, that hed somehow been caught up in. The sand was surprisingly cool beneath his cheek as he lay there, mind and body numb with confusion and the clench of guilt. Guilt, he realised now, sat where hed always thought love would, just below the ribs; a solid pressure pushing to meet his spi
Persephone Thesis: EssayPersephone Thesis: Essay ComponentPersephone Thesis: Essay in Academic Essays More Like This
"Happy is he among men upon earth who has seen these mysteries!
It is generally accepted among historical scholars that the cult of Demeter and Persephone, or Kore, existed in Greece and the surrounding Mediterranean islands long before the traditional Olympian gods became entrenched. Her origins are Cretan . Like Aphrodite, the mother and daughter goddess represent a matriarchal form of fertility worship in the forms of crops and nature, and through this the cycle of birth, growth and death. This myth, however, has taken hold of ima
Mama?Mama?Mama? in General Fiction More Like This
It was going to be a bad winter. Marquis could feel it in his hands, theyd never quite recovered, and tell by the way the blood was struggling to pump through them as the days got darker and shorter. He wasnt old by a long-shot Thirty next year, still good! but he completely sympathised when the old stable hands began their groaning. Powder white snow turned grey as he sludged through it, soot from his boots leaving a trail behind him as he fought his way to the main hall. All around him horses were being saddled and loaded up and men in uniform milled re
EvieEvieEvie in Mystery & Suspense More Like This
Around you the log cabin is cosy. Its one of those picturesque little places in the mountains and, as always happens here in winter, its snowing hard. Youre sitting in front of a roaring fireplace with your back against the sofa (Though isnt it an odd through; a fireplace in a log cabin?). The rug beneath you is thick and your bare toes could grip at it were you inclined to try. A mug sits beside you on the floor, still steaming from the pot. The light is dim, your mates have crashed for the night and get real anal if you leave the lights on while they
Hot Hotter Hot Hottest IntroMy balls were sticking to my inner thigh like a baby seal clinging to an Antarctic shore. Unfortunately, the camera was pointed right at me, so I couldn't do the leg-shake maneuver to get them loose. I saw the set of Hello, Good Morning! with Buster through two pea-sized holes drilled into my velvet helmet. Crayola had puked on the walls, the floor, the blocks, the rug, and even Buster. That was me, the rainbow-colored dog that came up on TV from dawn til noon. Outside of Busters Play Pen was the black, soulless collection of cameras and producers and directors sitting in fold-up chairs who occasionally yelHot Hotter Hot Hottest Intro in General Fiction More Like This
16. Love16. Love in General Fiction More Like This
"...let's grow old together," he said, nuzzling her neck. She laughed and curled her orange-tipped fingers into his palm. "Only if we still have ice cream."
Gingerbread HouseThey were sitting silently on the counter, awaiting duty; 3/4 teaspoon of baking soda, 3 1/4 cups of flour, and 2 teaspoons of ground ginger.Gingerbread House in General Fiction More Like This
She mixed them delicately, grinning to herself. The kitchen was her kingdom; where she resided and did whatever the hell she wanted. And, most of the time, she just wanted to cook. Her flour powdered hands rubbed quickly over her stark white apron as she hummed a nice little tune. Winter sunlight streamed in from the small window above the sink, but she could barely remember that it was February. The rip-off calendar next to the spice cabinet was five years old.
Her smile curled higher as she whipped
Not what you wanted to hear...How can you miss someone so much? How can you stand that overwhelming feeling of wanting someone so much and them being far away? How do you deal with the fact that you know things will never work out?Not what you wanted to hear... in Letters More Like This
I lost track of what I can do... I have tried, believe me. I don't know what I'm doing, what I'll be doing and that's scary sure, but you... You scare me to a point that I loose control over everything. My body still moves according to yours and I still feel sick to my stomach when I don't hear from you. Doesn't that part go away? I know you, I know it won't be possible but still, I wouldn't ever say no. I can't say it to you. But with all thi
Memoirs of a rainy dayRain. The calm drizzle that darkens most days.Memoirs of a rainy day in Letters More Like This
Not my day...This is for me a good day, a dark, wet and cloudy sky.
I go out in the street and feel the raindrops saying "hello there, stranger".Wouldn't it be a perfect day? It would... It was...
We knew little, we now know a lot, so why don't you understand? We have known each other since forever, so why do you act like you don't know me? I knew you, I knew you better then anyone. What changed?
I know I'm the same, I was always an open book with the same old pages but you, you turned out to be everything you said you would never become.
Don't you dare tell me I changed. Never again, will I let
If Happy Was a ColorIf happy was a color, it would be a soft yellow, or a light lavender, or both, intertwining. It would be the golden coat of a newborn puppy, the vibrant hue of a blossoming buttercup. It would be the gentle shade of a lilac, the soft cream of vanilla. Happiness is something that blooms and grows, like a smile slowly spreading across someone's face. Happiness is a warmth, slowly seeping into all parts of your body. Happiness is sturdy, safe, secure, but also wild, bounding, untamed. It is the clear turquoise water of the ocean. Happiness is your friends, your family, spending all the time in the world with them. It is your first pet theat is aIf Happy Was a Color in Emotional More Like This
SunsetPersonally, I like sunsets more than sunrises. I feel like I have more of a reason to like sunrises. After all, they could symbolize rebirth, new life, like a phoenix rising from the ashes, so many possibilities yet to come. But no, I prefer sunsets, the way Sun streaks the sky with vibrant purples and reds. The way Luna counters Sun, her army of stars arising around her. But Sun does not go down without a fight. The sky is red with the blood of the stars, pawns in the game of violent love. For it is a violent love between the sun and the moon, star-crossed lovers, forever forbidden to share each other's company. So they battle, for if thereSunset in Emotional More Like This
colorsPurple colours.colors in Emotional More Like This
Reflect in harmony.
Sunsets light the sky with orange and pink.
Something to smile at when the world is dark, and grey.
We've all heard the stories. The once-upon-a-time's.
The beautiful prince and princess. Wanting to become kings and queens. To escape.
Escape the pain that haunts us. That follows us. That leads us.
Our shadows mimic our actions.
But they are not us. They are our grey sides. Our darker side of light.
Why is it so painful to breathe?
Waiting for the morning to stop the ache.
Stop the horror. Stop the pain.
Let the wishes pass through the looking glass.
Hope for something new.
As time passes.
ImaginationEmpty.Imagination in Emotional More Like This
We are empty. Inside, with no glass door to hide our reflection. Bouncing on the walls of yesterday, with a bright face, and clear eyes.
We do not worry, but simply smile as the lies are fed from the face to the lips. How gratifying we are in the mirror. Look as the reflection fades.
We pass our will down the street to be sold at the highest cost.
We never thought about it though. No. Never did we sit down and have a chat on the rights and wrongs of this little world we live in. Never did we get the chance to say I love you. Never did we get the chance to be, and bleed through the doors that were always open. Never did we cry.
Dream A Better DreamDream A Better Dream in Short Stories More Like This
"Where's My Mommy? Where's my daddy". I'm sorry little one, they're no longer here. Close your eyes, go to sleep, and dream a better dream.
They may not be with us anymore, but I know where they'll always be: In your heart and in your dreams. So dream a better dream.
When you're scared. Just close your eyes and dream your best dream. In your dreams, you're safe and sound and you make your world your own.
In your dreams, you'll see them there. In your dreams, they'll always be there. I'm sorry they can't always be with you. I'm sure they're sorry, too. Just close your eyes and dream your dream, and make a wish, too.
As you dream a better d
All The Lonely Times And DifferencesAll The Lonely Times And Differences in Short Stories More Like This
A child looks out the window wondering what it's like to be out there. His entire life, he grew up alone. He didn't have very many friends, so he didn't know what it was like to have and share special memories with special people. Nobody in his life was special to him, not even anyone in his family. To the child, they were just regular people. It's really lonely not having anybody special in your life. When you cry, nobody hears you. When you laugh, there's nobody to laugh with you. There's only silence and the occasional echoes of your own voice. This is why the child wondered if the outside world was diff
The Seamstress and The SuitorThe Seamstress and The Suitor in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
The Seamstress and The Suitor
Disclaimer: All characters belong to their rightful owners.
The open story begins as the sun rise from its hiding place. It shines down on a small town call, Ponyville. Waking every stallions, mares, fillies, and colts. The sunlight, also, pierces through a window of a small round buiding. Awakening the sleeping mare. She got up stretching and yawning. Pampered herself up, finished eating her breakfast, and began working on her designs.
As the seamstress of a fashion designer, she would always dream to be like
MLP: The Seamstress and the Suitor Chapter 2MLP: The Seamstress and the Suitor Chapter 2 in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Four hours of traveling, the train arrives at the train station in Canterlot. Rarity gathers her things and walk out the door. Once waiting of her arrival the royal guards, who Twilight told the Princess of Rarity stay in the Canterlot for two weeks. So, Princess Celestria accepts the offer of letting Rarity staying at the castle. She glad to have a friend like Twilight.
The guards escort her to the carriage as one of them places her bags in the carriage. Then on their way the castle, Rarity felt like royalty already. She just wish she would live here instead of living in Ponyville. That is one of the reason she tried her best to