Are You Proud Of Me? 10/2/2014 - 12 days passed by Ornja, literature
Literature
Are You Proud Of Me? 10/2/2014 - 12 days passed
Water drips to cool the burning heart
ragged breath is the only sound
Wetting the shirt, never slowing down
That is what it’s like when I remember you.
Salty stains flow with the playing music
Hands shake at the touch
Shivering soul closed from the world
That is what it’s like when I think of you.
Fog covers the lenses to the soul
nothing can ever be real
drumming thoughts fill the mind
That is what it’s like when I miss you.
Why did you leave me?
A sparkle lights up a darkened face
laughter is the only sound
shining bright, never going to fade
That is what it’s like when I remember you
That is what it’s like
All At Once
The warmest hugs, the heartiest laughs,
Silly karaoke in the car
Vanished, all at once.
Petty arguments, quiet apologies,
Coming to a calm agreement
Disappeared, all at once.
Learning together, teaching new things,
Making music with each other
Silenced, all at once.
Sudden loss of breath, heightened heartbeat
Lack of consciousness in a hospital bed
Conversations that had yet to happen,
Plans made previous that were to be carried out later,
Terminated, all at once.
A week of grieving, close friends taking care
Of all three of us.
No funeral, too grim for his tastes.
More like a party without the celebration
Like the congregati
Child of the Cross- Chapter 3 Last Goodbyes by Aura075, literature
Literature
Child of the Cross- Chapter 3 Last Goodbyes
Chapter 3: Alone
Catherine sat against James' shoulder as they listen to the sounds of Rose cries of pain. Over the sound of the muffled cries was the ticking noise of the grandfather clock that hung on the wall. Each tick reminded Catherine that her mother was slipping away with each second. She could only sit there and blame herself. Catherine blamed herself, she couldn't believe she had caused this, it was all her fault…she didn't know her mother would make it, or not. Doctor Lyle White was a well-known doctor through these parts and from what James told her, he was the best doctor to treat Rose.
An hour passed since they came into t
The office where Cairo and Aerie were redirected was upstairs, four doors down to the left. Everything in the house screamed “rich,” from the imported, polished wood to the hand carved railings. The stuffy panelings and sturdy doors only furthered the image, but left a overwhelming feeling of a loneliness that was almost painful. Without a presence of life, Cairo thought as he glanced at the pristine cleanliness of the office. There wasn’t a book out of place or a spec of dust to be had. The desk wasn’t littered with papers, instead they were all tucked neatly into a paper tray in the corner, while the smaller accessor
Child of The Cross- Chapter 2 Boston Massacre by Aura075, literature
Literature
Child of The Cross- Chapter 2 Boston Massacre
The golden rays over the city were slowly turning into a setting sunset, Catherine promise to meet her mother on King’s Street in two hours. She was only a block away from where she promised to meet James. She leaned against a brick building in an alley watching the busy hive of the Boston streets and its people. The array of smells filled her nose, but the strongest smell was the fresh bread from the bakery across the street. She knew it was too late in the evening for bread to be made, maybe for fresh stock tomorrow? She started to form a small craving for Mrs. McCree’s sweet bread, the owner of the bakery. The young girl wonder
Child of the Cross- Chapter 1 by Aura075, literature
Literature
Child of the Cross- Chapter 1
Shay lingered in the doorway as he watched his only daughter sleep. He was amazed that a seven-year-old was able to infiltrate his ship without to being caught. He always knew Catherine was a clever child, more cleaver then he gave credit too. The Sea Captain didn’t know how he was going to explain his delay to Master Kenway, or about why he had a young child accompanying him. Before he left, Shay pressed his lips on his snoozing daughter’s forehead. He shut the door behind him as he walked across deck where Gist was waiting for him.
“How is our lil stowaway?” Gist chuckled
Shay scratched the back of his neck, ̶
Family Tree: Loving the Undying by Illilex0DarkFire, literature
Literature
Family Tree: Loving the Undying
Secrets are hard to keep hidden. And over time, they seem to get harder to handle. They spread like forks of lightning, and add weight to the shoulders of anyone caught with the burden of carrying them. But unlike lightning, secrets are often dark and stay around for generations. Countries are no exception. They have many secrets; secrets they hide from their people, other countries, and sometimes, both. One secret that has been kept hidden is the bloodline of Scotland, England, America, and another country who has yet to learn of his part in the legacy. This secret is known by its keepers as the Family Tree.
Countries know better than to fa
The Broken Bird of Skin and Bone by TheAshCatHaineko, literature
Literature
The Broken Bird of Skin and Bone
Splat. Splat. Splat. The raindrops hit the pavement before me. My arm snakes around my stomach to hold it while it screams in hunger. I know I can shush it with the food that lies in the small cottage house behind me, but I can’t do that. Instead I stand in the rain feeling the cold seep into my skin and bones. No balance, I feel dizzy. Slowly, I shake my blue hair out of my eyes.
Hunger. I’m so hungry. I’ve barely eaten anything in the last two months. Food. I forget the taste. My toes curl against the pavement. Shoes. Did I leave them inside? Jacket. Is that inside too? I’m so mixed
Adrien Agreste was as cardboard cutout as they came. After being his seat partner for all of four years; because Max and Kim always sat together, Ivan always sat alone, and Nathanael always hid behind him, it didn’t take long for Nino to see Adrien as an awkward poster child. Don’t get him wrong, Adrien was polite to everyone, cordial even to people who didn’t like him. He turned down girls with the softest of smiles saying he wanted to focus on studies. He was the only person who was able to pacify Chloe’s tantrums, making him a hero to the class. But other than that, Adrien didn’t really seem to have a personal
Back in the day, I wrote “Underworld Prison Party,” a Halloween one-shot where former Gameverse villains recollect old stories. This Christmas one-shot follows the same theme, but with our heroes! This takes place after Sector LN in the Newborn Saga.
Heaven’s Hotel
Its size rivaling that of the Spear Pillar, millions of souls were riding the grand, golden escalators to Heaven’s Hotel. The structure was built miles beyond a vast cliff, from which there were multiple entry stations for each escalator. The souls need only stand on the automatic steps and watch the endless heavens float by.
With how many different souls
Creative Writing Assignment #2 - Short Story 1 by Malklover, literature
Literature
Creative Writing Assignment #2 - Short Story 1
I was Lightbringer, a hero to the people. I donned an outfit fitting for my station, my powers, and my desire to save Manhattan from the actions of evil men. My powers were impressive and my skills in combat superior. I thought I was unstoppable. I was a foolish man. I look down now at my broken and blood body, a God-that-was. Never did I think that I would be defeated, not by him. Yet there he was, waiting for me, a flash of knives, pain, and blood, frantic flight, twisting and turning in the cold fall air. My fist found his face. I felt his stomach groan as I made another attack, bones crunching beneath my fingers, flesh rippling. Then I felt a tugging inside of me and then there was a great pain. My chest tightened, my stomach turned. I looked up into the cold gray eyes of Harbinger, my arch-nemesis, a master of shadow manipulation. He smiled as the shadows were pulled from inside my body. My flesh ripped open with a sickening sound as the rabid shadows answered their master’s
Little, old Myrtle could remember picking up that pen clear as day. Her thin hands were trembling, but she was the only one that could do it. Her husband, Quillish, refused to write the letter. He wanted to know the joy of having a child, and he found dishing out the rejection all to painful, even if this was his cross to bear. In their earlier conversation, when Myrtle heard the final stipulation to the adoption, everything went as sharply downhill at the same rate her fragile heart dropped to the floor.
She had blinked back tears, torn as ever between having a child she could never bear and giving it up to safeguard her marriage. She could
Many days I sit alone, eating a cookie or two. Listening to the wind blew, or a story to sooth. These days are hard I will not lie, and after the past years, oh, how time flies. These past times I sit alone, not of my choosing, but of the sweet, sweet times that life sends cold. What was once five, are now just three. The the past year comes and set it to two, which hurt not just me. Then when I shared a bite with one who I offered my heart, it was only returned, shattered and in broken parts. These past years has not been kind, but when has it ever been in favor of mine? For the past few years I have been writing nonstop, but is that something that I should be proud about? These lines, these words, are nothing but pain. My sorrows, my hate, are replaced with coded names. As you read this for most of entertainment, just know that I truly care. For the truth is behind lies, but the truth is hard to bare. It is at night that my torment will start, and it was in the day that I had
our mother Time doesn't love us
leaves too quickly during times of joy
stays too long when begged to go
never did want to tie herself down
for us; never did want to
—
damn you! your
frozen fingers, all the times
we'd flung our arms around your warm waist,
begging, bargaining with our heads in your breast
for you to stay. How many times, Mama, Mama;
does it mean nothing to you?
—
when all the world is still
our eyes open for a moment
thinking of the figure
who'd been forever
slipping through
our useless
helpless
hands
where did she go?
