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The Reaping

T

The Reaping

Gale froze, a mixture of relief and horror. Relief that it wasn't Katniss. Horror that it was Prim. For a long moment, he felt as though there was a buzzing in the air, and watched helplessly as little Prim finally shuffled forwards in her oversized clothes. How was Katniss holding up? Gale looked across to her. A split second later, she twitched out of her dumbstruck state and dashed forwards, screaming desperately, “Prim! Prim! I volunteer!” Katniss, no – “I volunteer as tribute!” A hush fell over the crowd. Gale withdrew, closing his eyes. Not hearing. This can’t be happening. This can’t b

Navigating the Global

N

Navigating the Global

7:09 AM. The middle-aged woman fumbles with the brakes on her pram, as the train engine drones monotonously in her ears. Finally satisfied, she allows herself to drift asleep. Across from her, Sharon shuts her laptop and crosses her stockinged legs. She looks out the train window at the blur of green and silver, then checks her watch. Still time. She watches the plainly dressed mother subconsciously nodding. Finding it hypnotic, she almost dozes off as well. It had been an exhausting night. (Or early morning.) 2:03 AM. Sharon typed mechanically; her fingers attacked the back-space key every now and again. Her tired eyes could no longer

Country woman, City girl

C

Country woman, City girl

Akiko 4 AM. For the fifth time that morning, Akiko dragged herself out of bed to tend to her wailing baby. She could barely open her shadowed eyes, but she was used to it. Yet when the baby was finally satisfied and returned to a peaceful sleep, Akiko could not. She made her way out the house, taking in the cool air. She half-wished she could hire a baby-sitter. Or a maid. Maybe even a cook. Of course, the money her husband earnt was sufficient for their modest way of life, but that was it. A secret part of Akiko desired luxuries, a life of ease. She worried for the future of her precious baby. She can’t live like this. It would be
Stay
Irony

Refugee Camp

R

Refugee Camp

Day after day Nothing changes We wait. Caught in limbo, The sparks of youth are lost Even in children. The sparks of hope Live no more. With nothing to call our own We'd cry But we lack the strength Even to weep. When the darkness sets Closes in around us We'd suffocate But we have long since lost our breath Our voice. Members of authority come and go Speaking of Utopias Unreachable. Slowly (for time doesn't move), We forget our names Why we are here Where we came from Who we are. All is dust. Sometimes, The stillness kills me. (But am I already dead?) We wait. Nothing changes Day after day

Inevitability

I

Inevitability

She had no choice. Lady Amelia stood by her bedroom window, watching blankly as the Duke's carriage left the courtyard. She knew she was supposed to be happy. Slowly, she turned away and approached her bedpost, leaning against it for support. Her throat clenched up; she wanted to cry. But she didn't. *** Five days. Five more days, until – until… Amelia sighed, and re-read her letters. She had had them pretty well memorised by now, but there was something strangely comforting in drowning in Reginald's words. She hadn't seen – or even heard from – him in a month. He must have found out. She looked up at the light gre

Learn to Savour, To Let Go

L

Learn to Savour, To Let Go

prologue Staring at the ceiling as you trundle by, you think to yourself what a pity it is to have to leave the world at the peak of your life. There is so much left to do, so much left to see, to experience. You want to curse that reckless, cowardly P-plater. Then you hear buzzing noises, but your vision is hazy, and you can't match shifting shadow to muffled voice. You do have a general idea of what's happening around you though. You feel someone brush your cheek, and you can recognise his warm touch immediately. The hand is soon gone, as you are wheeled away (much to your discontent). Bright lights shine painfully above you, and you c
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The Reaping

T

The Reaping

Gale froze, a mixture of relief and horror. Relief that it wasn't Katniss. Horror that it was Prim. For a long moment, he felt as though there was a buzzing in the air, and watched helplessly as little Prim finally shuffled forwards in her oversized clothes. How was Katniss holding up? Gale looked across to her. A split second later, she twitched out of her dumbstruck state and dashed forwards, screaming desperately, “Prim! Prim! I volunteer!” Katniss, no – “I volunteer as tribute!” A hush fell over the crowd. Gale withdrew, closing his eyes. Not hearing. This can’t be happening. This can’t b

Navigating the Global

N

Navigating the Global

7:09 AM. The middle-aged woman fumbles with the brakes on her pram, as the train engine drones monotonously in her ears. Finally satisfied, she allows herself to drift asleep. Across from her, Sharon shuts her laptop and crosses her stockinged legs. She looks out the train window at the blur of green and silver, then checks her watch. Still time. She watches the plainly dressed mother subconsciously nodding. Finding it hypnotic, she almost dozes off as well. It had been an exhausting night. (Or early morning.) 2:03 AM. Sharon typed mechanically; her fingers attacked the back-space key every now and again. Her tired eyes could no longer

Country woman, City girl

C

Country woman, City girl

Akiko 4 AM. For the fifth time that morning, Akiko dragged herself out of bed to tend to her wailing baby. She could barely open her shadowed eyes, but she was used to it. Yet when the baby was finally satisfied and returned to a peaceful sleep, Akiko could not. She made her way out the house, taking in the cool air. She half-wished she could hire a baby-sitter. Or a maid. Maybe even a cook. Of course, the money her husband earnt was sufficient for their modest way of life, but that was it. A secret part of Akiko desired luxuries, a life of ease. She worried for the future of her precious baby. She can’t live like this. It would be

Refugee Camp

R

Refugee Camp

Day after day Nothing changes We wait. Caught in limbo, The sparks of youth are lost Even in children. The sparks of hope Live no more. With nothing to call our own We'd cry But we lack the strength Even to weep. When the darkness sets Closes in around us We'd suffocate But we have long since lost our breath Our voice. Members of authority come and go Speaking of Utopias Unreachable. Slowly (for time doesn't move), We forget our names Why we are here Where we came from Who we are. All is dust. Sometimes, The stillness kills me. (But am I already dead?) We wait. Nothing changes Day after day

Inevitability

I

Inevitability

She had no choice. Lady Amelia stood by her bedroom window, watching blankly as the Duke's carriage left the courtyard. She knew she was supposed to be happy. Slowly, she turned away and approached her bedpost, leaning against it for support. Her throat clenched up; she wanted to cry. But she didn't. *** Five days. Five more days, until – until… Amelia sighed, and re-read her letters. She had had them pretty well memorised by now, but there was something strangely comforting in drowning in Reginald's words. She hadn't seen – or even heard from – him in a month. He must have found out. She looked up at the light gre

The Reaping

T

The Reaping

Gale froze, a mixture of relief and horror. Relief that it wasn't Katniss. Horror that it was Prim. For a long moment, he felt as though there was a buzzing in the air, and watched helplessly as little Prim finally shuffled forwards in her oversized clothes. How was Katniss holding up? Gale looked across to her. A split second later, she twitched out of her dumbstruck state and dashed forwards, screaming desperately, “Prim! Prim! I volunteer!” Katniss, no – “I volunteer as tribute!” A hush fell over the crowd. Gale withdrew, closing his eyes. Not hearing. This can’t be happening. This can’t b

Navigating the Global

N

Navigating the Global

7:09 AM. The middle-aged woman fumbles with the brakes on her pram, as the train engine drones monotonously in her ears. Finally satisfied, she allows herself to drift asleep. Across from her, Sharon shuts her laptop and crosses her stockinged legs. She looks out the train window at the blur of green and silver, then checks her watch. Still time. She watches the plainly dressed mother subconsciously nodding. Finding it hypnotic, she almost dozes off as well. It had been an exhausting night. (Or early morning.) 2:03 AM. Sharon typed mechanically; her fingers attacked the back-space key every now and again. Her tired eyes could no longer

Country woman, City girl

C

Country woman, City girl

Akiko 4 AM. For the fifth time that morning, Akiko dragged herself out of bed to tend to her wailing baby. She could barely open her shadowed eyes, but she was used to it. Yet when the baby was finally satisfied and returned to a peaceful sleep, Akiko could not. She made her way out the house, taking in the cool air. She half-wished she could hire a baby-sitter. Or a maid. Maybe even a cook. Of course, the money her husband earnt was sufficient for their modest way of life, but that was it. A secret part of Akiko desired luxuries, a life of ease. She worried for the future of her precious baby. She can’t live like this. It would be

Refugee Camp

R

Refugee Camp

Day after day Nothing changes We wait. Caught in limbo, The sparks of youth are lost Even in children. The sparks of hope Live no more. With nothing to call our own We'd cry But we lack the strength Even to weep. When the darkness sets Closes in around us We'd suffocate But we have long since lost our breath Our voice. Members of authority come and go Speaking of Utopias Unreachable. Slowly (for time doesn't move), We forget our names Why we are here Where we came from Who we are. All is dust. Sometimes, The stillness kills me. (But am I already dead?) We wait. Nothing changes Day after day

Inevitability

I

Inevitability

She had no choice. Lady Amelia stood by her bedroom window, watching blankly as the Duke's carriage left the courtyard. She knew she was supposed to be happy. Slowly, she turned away and approached her bedpost, leaning against it for support. Her throat clenched up; she wanted to cry. But she didn't. *** Five days. Five more days, until – until… Amelia sighed, and re-read her letters. She had had them pretty well memorised by now, but there was something strangely comforting in drowning in Reginald's words. She hadn't seen – or even heard from – him in a month. He must have found out. She looked up at the light gre

Learn to Savour, To Let Go

L

Learn to Savour, To Let Go

prologue Staring at the ceiling as you trundle by, you think to yourself what a pity it is to have to leave the world at the peak of your life. There is so much left to do, so much left to see, to experience. You want to curse that reckless, cowardly P-plater. Then you hear buzzing noises, but your vision is hazy, and you can't match shifting shadow to muffled voice. You do have a general idea of what's happening around you though. You feel someone brush your cheek, and you can recognise his warm touch immediately. The hand is soon gone, as you are wheeled away (much to your discontent). Bright lights shine painfully above you, and you c

Destiny

D

Destiny

Are our lives... ... determined by fate?

48. Childhood

C

48. Childhood

Wandering the streets with an innocent, vague look was a child who refused to acknowledge the fact that she was, indeed, lost. A streak of lightning split the sky, and as it opened up to let through sheets of rain, thunder echoed menacingly. At this point, the girl quickly sought shelter beneath a large tree by the sidewalk, hugging tightly to herself a worn-out doll, as well as a small case of her other treasured belongings. She hummed softly to herself, but it failed to drown out the stubborn pattering of the rain. Things will be alright, she repeated to herself. Everything will be fine. Each time a loud crack of thunder jolted her, she

The taste of war

T

The taste of war

When I survey this barren, bleak, cold place My memories sting like drops of acid rain The pain still lingers with a bitter taste – Just how can I remove this stubborn stain? Indiscriminate bullets pierce the sky Bloodcurdling screams and echoes split the night No longer could we hear our comrades cry They'd fallen, cold and lifeless – sickening sight As I survey this barren, bleak, cold place My memories burn like soaked in acid rain The pain still lingers with a bitter taste I know I can't remove this stubborn stain Enough to make one wonder why we exist If all we live for in life just comes to this

Catharsis.

C

Catharsis.

"She's having another fit." The small figure on the white bed thrashed about, furiously trying to fight off the people restraining her. Straps were tied around her wrists and ankles, and she was pushed onto her front, leaving her backside vulnerable. Struggling, the girl tried in vain to free herself, but she could not escape the painfully sharp needle that was pressed into her flesh. *** She found herself swimming in darkness… and colours. Muffled voices resonated around her in the expanse of swirling colours, and a small white rabbit materialized in front of her. "It's you again!" cried the girl excitedly, extending her arms to cra

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41Comments
Artist // Hobbyist // Varied
  • Feb 15
  • Australia
  • Deviant for 12 years
  • She / Her
Badges
BlackBerry: Exclusive Neil Gaiman BlackBerry Badge
BlackBerry: Exclusive Calendar of Tales Badge
thoughtART: Participated in April Fools' Day 2014
Super Albino: Llamas are awesome! (117)
birthdAy '10: decade of deviousness
My Bio
Current Residence: Australia
Favourite genre of music: Pop. Asian music ;)
Favourite style of art: I prefer realism to manga/anime. But manga/anime is cool.
Operating System: Mac (Mountain Lion)
MP3 player of choice: My iTouch (...if not for its broken state)
Favourite cartoon character: All A:TLA characters :)

Favourite Movies
PotC- all 3
Favourite TV Shows
Friends
Favourite Bands / Musical Artists
GEM
Favourite Books
Harry Potter, Deltora Quest, etc.
Favourite Writers
Emily Rodda
Favourite Games
Plants vs Zombies
Tools of the Trade
Paper, rubber, pencil/paser, MS Paint, GIMP, PDN, MS Word, etc.
Other Interests
Reading, writing, singing, doodling, gaming, bludging...
Worries weighing down Stay up till I hear from him I can close my eyes #HaikuPoetryDay

Final year of Uni

Final year of Uni

And I've been considering doing a Masters degree in teaching after graduation. I mean, I haven't exactly been active in getting internships in the media/TV/film industry, but I've been pretty busy with piano teaching and tutoring and I actually have experience in that regard (kind of)... But what if I should be more active? What if I do get a job if I actually looked? Would I then still consider doing teaching? blargh *back to studying French* (not really I'm just returning to YouTube derp)

Near-blackout experience

Near-blackout experience

Today I was at Menai Shooting Range for a film shoot to help a friend with her final project. It was thirty degrees celsius (not the fatally hottest by Australian standards but still cookingly hot), and if you know me, you know I don't respond to heat well. When I was younger I'd flush really red, and wake up the next day with some god-awful rash. It'd evolve into various stages of swollenness, redness, itchiness and flakiness over a week or more. It was a horrible ordeal. So I applied a lot of sunscreen, wore a hat, wore a thin jacket so my arms wouldn't burn, and tried to face away from the sun a lot. However, the heat still got to me. No

Comments 444

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xEmoMuffinxHobbyist General Artist
:turbopoke:
TsuExHobbyist Digital Artist
Thank you for the comment! :D
xEmoMuffinxHobbyist General Artist
You're welcome~ :D
Nightmare-DistortionStudent Digital Artist
Hi there you've been hugged..by meeee!! Send one to all your friends who you think deserve a hug (which, hopefully includes the person who sent it to you)!!

You might send it to your enemies as well! It'll really make them stop and think!!!

If you don't receive this back, nobody likes you, and they wish you'd stop bugging them!

If you receive this back 1 time, open up! Find more friends, enemies, or enemies pretending to be friends

If you receive this back 2 times, you're off to a good start! (Unless you sent it to yourself! That's cheating!)

If you receive this back 3 times, you're a good friend.

If you receive this back 4 times, you're truly loved as a friend!!

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YOU'VE BEEN HUGGED!

Spread the DA love around! (you can copy and paste this message on their userpage!)

RULES: 1- You can hug the person who hugged you! 2- You -MUST- hug 6 other people, at least! 3- You should hug them in public! Paste it on their user page! 4- Random hugs are perfectly okay! (and sweet) 5- You should most definitely get started hugging right away
Relic-AngelHobbyist General Artist
Oi! xD I just noticed two things about you: Aussie and that your ID name is the same nickname I used to use for my dog Muffin! :tighthug:
xEmoMuffinxHobbyist General Artist
Yay Australia! :highfive:
Ooh, awesome coincidence haha XD