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Dec. 11th, 2005 @ 01:32 pm
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but the problem is.
what you see is what you get. |
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My darling, my starling, your whisper’s softly falling
Words begin to slur as you curve the world to blur
And the ticking clock starts to twist an hour too quick
And the swaying clown cackles in a blundering mist
Lighted ways for abiding fools who sit high upon stools
To fall in darkened holes of lost and mislaid souls
The beckoning shade lurks for those lacking of perk
And imp holds your neck with an undeniable smirk
You sway and you play for a dishonest hour of stay
You plea and you desire to only soon expire
Lost in embellished dreams of dissociated creams
I’ll tell you that I love you to watch your body scream
You’ll hear my whimpering lies of tender grieving cries
And my words of your content are slightly false and bent
A pound of whiskey too far and left yourself to scar
A scamper and a skedaddle, now you’re far from par
Thirteen’s the ominous mark of initiating spark
A fool’s superstitions like this twirl of submission
My words commence to coil and, in you, collapsing soil
Echoes of a dying soul are the fiend’s flexible foil
Next time you dare speak in such disoriented feat
My words will not kindly send with mercy meant to mend
I’ll hoot and I’ll howl at you who’s disgustingly foul
Yet my love for you stays late and waits with night owl
My darling, my starling, your whisper’s gently falling
Your hours are twisting and your time’s losing fixing
You’ll crash and you’ll fall to a never-ending squall
I only warn you now, still free from hell’s broken stall |
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It’s quite precise to be concise
With each of your short whims
The two full moons with shifting shadows
Winds each between your bottom limbs
My resigned release and sign of peace
Of special noise and silly poise
I’ve let you go, you silly ho
To catch and fetch the noses
The methane released in simple relief
Poignant smells that fill this hell
I’ve let you go, you silly ho
To catch and fetch the roses
Take a match for a daunting burst of light
Spontaneous combustion, my ass, you’re right
Electrons in a bloodied limb-losing fight
Results from cheese, grass, and roaring lice
I’ve let you go, you silly ho
To catch and fetch the noses
The giggles of response, and jolly foe
Are not those of the long losing roses
Spread-- Spread-- Spread--
Infectious aroma, hence you go
For I’ve let you go, you silly ho
To catch and fetch the roses |
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For years the angst and confusion dwelled up in her. From young years her father seemed quite the arch-nemesis. Forbidding her to play with the other children and sit countless hours at church in forced prayer. She would constantly lose focus and dazed outward through the stained glass to admire the sunny landscape and fresh spring grass. Her father always, however, would snap at her in fury.
“Maintain to your prayers this very instant,” he would always yell. And when ever he turned away, she noticed him muttered under his breath, “May God help this child.”
She always thought her father a loony, and would begrudgingly return to prayers. She never did know what to pray about. Except for God to help her father, yet she knew her father was doing the same thing for her.
It all began when she was about age five. Everything seemed normal, until her father began to notice her talking in corners by herself. At first he dismissed it. Until one day she came into the kitchen and introduced Tom.
“Ma and Pa, I’d like you to meet Tom.” She would curtsy and present Tom. Her mother giggled and found it to be the most adorable thing.
“An imaginary friend, already. How adorable,” her mother would giggled. The mother would kiss the child on the cheek and return to her errands.
The father, however, immediately saw the sign of Satan upon his daughter and in fear dragged her to the church. All the people looked disgustingly at the Father to see his poor attitude towards his daughter. His sweat overwhelmed him and he nearly passed out. The little girl merely ran around the church talking to this Tom of hers. What appeared to be some small child's play brought anguish to the her father like nothing else. The father, told her to stop this Tom nonsense and start praying. Confused, she copied what her father did, clap her hands together, and closed her eyes. She would occassionally open one eye at her father in curiousity. She had no idea what she was doing.
For the longest time, her father would try to rid her of Tom. In her confusion, Tom grew stronger and stronger, and the girl no longer could forget him. Her father told her she was possessed, and needed to be cleansed. The mother would only tell her father to calm down and say the only thing the child was possessed of was her imagination.
this one is also unfinished. oh, my you must be in agony now. or not. |
| » The Circus Master |
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It has been some time since the house rang of any sound. All that was left was an eerie aura marked by an ineffable tragedy. The wooden tables and iron chairs still laid scattered around, wrapped in a thin layer of dust. Any vigor that once may have permeated the home despite its qualification for family life was gone. The screechy floors and hanging spider webs were enough to send a chill up one’s spine. The sunlight that blared through the windows created a silhouette that made the house like a painting. The painting was simple, with gentle shapes of chairs and tables against the pastel colored walls. But beneath the simple shapes lied some unspeakable truth.
Valerie wandered the house, carefully gathering any semblances of the life that once dwelled in 666 Estuary Drive. She was persistent in her observance, carefully looking between each crack, under each frame, beneath each sink in attempts to leech onto anything -- of reason or insanity -- to render comfort to her curiosity. Nothing, however, fed her overwhelming confusion.
Entering a young adult’s room, Valerie walked cautiously around as to avoid bothering any spirits that may lurk in the room’s quiet corners. Although Valerie was not much for superstitions, she felt she might as well be careful not to push for any bad omens. The girl’s room was tidied nicely and orderly like a doll’s house. Her sheets were straightened over the bed, and the desk was unusually organized. In fact, there was nothing on it. Nothing but electronics all connected through a network of wires. A computer laid at the center of the desk: the monitor dark and entrancing.
Valerie scuttled through the drawers of the desk, still yearning for something to feed her curiosity and confusion. Drawer after drawer laid empty, as did the rest of the house. It seemed as though anything that may have been personal and dear was removed. As she pulled out the bottom drawer, it hindered and soon Valerie noticed something has obstructed any further movement. She curled her arm and attempted to reach around the back of the drawer. Her hand caught onto something, and she pulled it out.
Valerie blinked, and picked up a small jewelry box. It was covered with precious gems and beads placed into an intricate design. It looked exotic and as if it was from India. She slowly opened it. Inside held a picture. It seemed to be the only personal item left in the derelict home. Her eyes caught onto the mother. The mother had brown curly hair, and looked weary and tired. Her eyes held wrinkles indicating years of maturing and stress. The father had blonde, straight hair that shone like gold. His smile was sweet, and he held an image of prestige. Between the two, a girl smiled with her golden locks framing her gentle face.
“Ariel,” Valerie sighed. Her knees weakened and yearned for her to sit down. And so she did.
She stared at the picture. Something uncanny resonated from it. Some dear secret waited beneath the smiles for a pounce. Valerie didn’t know what, but she knew something was wrong. Ariel would never have killed anyone. Furthermore, she would never have killed her mother. Despite the common quarrels that arose between parent and offspring, the family appeared flawless. Valerie had never developed any suspicion of a façade her best friend may have showed. In no way, did Ariel show any devil that may have possessed her to do the things they accused her off.
Valerie felt her heart begin to pound, and threw the box and picture in her purse. She sat back, feeling the adrenaline run. It had only been recently, that Valerie began to enter mild stages of constant anxiety. She hadn’t consult anyone about it, but felt that if she were to feed herself the truth of what happened to Ariel, she would be cured. After 15 minutes of blank thought, Valerie finally decided she would stand up.
The black computer screen held some mystery to it. She looked at the desk. It was fairly empty of personal items, but it laced with wires. The mp3 player was dormant in its dock. The digital camera had long finished charging. The Pocket PC, the web cam, the speakers, the alarm clock, the lamp, the printer, and the monitor; all were hooked onto a surge strip that led to the wall socket.
Valerie turned on the screen, and waited anxiously for the boot up. So this is where Ariel had spent much of her days sitting and ...
unfinished. it got a bit tedious. But surprise! I added something...
Sep. 24th, 2005 @ 11:54 pm
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| » Yumika |
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So I was browsing through my old websites and came upon a site I made for a particular story. Looking at the site, I grew an unexpected urge to finish what I started.
I wrote this story about a year ago. I started a chapter online, then continued the story on a piece of paper. I fortunately was able to find the paper and am currently tranferring its contents onto the site. I never finished the story, just have a but of it written.
Check out Yumika at http://www.freewebs.com/inneressence/currentmininovel.htm
Enjoy.
Jul. 10th, 2004 @ 02:44 pm
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| » Orange Remix |
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Given to me by my special friend, Brittany while I was volunteering at a center for children. Thanks, Brittany! You're gonna be a great writer! :)
One day, there was a little girl whose name was Pei Pei Yu Fei. She was chasing le butterfluttery and before she knew it, she dangling over edge of cliff. Spoof! So she reachith forwardseth and stumbled down down down down down down. Luckily, she fell unto the sidewalk. SUDDENLY, a mother. And her child. In a stroller. Running down down down down so fast. And fast fast fast. She saw this and being the nut she was. Tried. So hard. To escape. But only. Rolled onto the road. Down the hill, came something. Faster faster! More more more! Ugh ugh! The next moment, all I could see was leprechauns. They were humping the chalk marks of her body. It was night already. I say byegood, "Yas I."
–Brittany [ Based on a true story that was experienced by Britney. ]
Jul. 7th, 2004 @ 03:08 pm
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| » Holy Shit |
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Some of these are so lame.
I'll be deleting this in a few days.
May. 31st, 2004 @ 11:18 pm
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| » The Noise |
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The children at school got in fights, tearing one another's hair out. On so many channels news of the war pops up with gory images of the large massacre that had just occurred. Riots were constantly seen around the corner. It seemed everyone was fighting and resorting to violence. Everyone but his family. He came home everyday to a loving father and a loving mother. They snuggled him with hugs and kisses each day with his arrival to home.
But something was different today.
It was Little Joseph's 10th birthday. He finally reached the double digits. Joe was anxious to find out what surprises would await him a home. He was gonna make himself and his little sister a nice cup of hot coco. Maybe even the whole family could sit at the couch together and watch his favorite movies. He smile to himself as he thought of all the nice things that could come.
He had tripped over some trash as he looked up at his beautiful home to find his sister sitting on the steps. It was a white and glossy home, and such a beautifl home he thought. He waved to his neighbor who was sitting, relaxed, in the yard next door. His sister was the most adorable thing in the world he thought. If anyone had to grow up happy, it would be her. Her smile always filled up everyone's day with happiness. Her skin was radiant with health. All the other girls at school envied his little sister for her perfection. He would never let anyone hurt her. As he ran up to his sister, he found her crying. "Oh please, not today," he thought sadly.
He gave her a hug like the perfect little brother role model he thought he should be, and told her to hush. Told her everything would be okay, and to go inside and help him make some hot chocolate.
They walked inside. The T.V. was on extremely loud. News of the war on the other side of the world and the riots down the street passed through the show's daily lineup.
He pulled out the hot chocolate, and pondered what he should do for his birthday... but his little sister's cries and shouts had never grown as loud as they were now.
"Shut up! Shut up!" she yelled beggingly and furiously. "Just stop it!! Stop!!"
Joe told her to hush and calm down and that they would watch some Power Rangers. He grabbed the video. She wouldn't stop yelling. Please he thought... please just be quiet. Everyone, just be quiet! He had never wanted to shut up the T.V. as badly as he did now. As he was about to reach down and hug her, a slap fell across her soft face. Then slowly scars began to fill her soft skin. Her arms filled with bruises, her face had cuts. He tried to shake his head to see the pretty girl he saw before. Her nose was bleeding, the bruises grew darker. The noise got louder.
"Stop! Stop! Stop! No! No!" he screamed as he fell to the ground, covering his eyes in his hands and face in his knees. "He's not real'" he laughed in a nervous giggle, "It's... not real... It's not real!!" As he sat on the ground in trepidation, the noise grew louder and louder. "Shut up!!" he yelled, "Just shut the fuck up!!"
Nothing stopped. He looked in front of him. His hands reached out and he grabbed the sharp knife. He grinned as he stood up. His arms trembled as he looked down at the blade. His gripped grew tight and he began to swing his knife crazily before him, laughing with no instinct of what he was doing. His judegement was impaired. Screams arosed in the home. His sister jumped on him and screamed words to make him stop. He wouldn't stop. Oh no, not now. Then everything went silent. His harsh breath hit the air as he looked frightenly at the ground... blood trails began moving on the floor... expanding towards his sister's feet. She moved away from the blood and him frightingly... shaking.
The noise had stopped.
"Let's watch some Power Rangers," he said. The sister stood there in fear with no response. He picked up the video tape and walked up to the T.V. He stood there shaking with confusion.
The T.V. was never on.
He looked around anxiously for something. Something. He looked on the ground. Followed the the blood trail to the bodies. His mother and father had deep cuts and a large bleeding hole at their hearts. He had murdered both his parents. He began shaking as he trembled away slowly. "No... no... It's... not...real... It's not real!!" he thought as he moved away slowly.
The noise had stopped.
"It's not real... " his voice whispered in trepidation.
He moved slowly and quietly away from his home and at the end of the street he looked back at the trailer home. He shook his head ... "no, no, it's not a trailer home... it was ... something... nicer ..." he began to understand as he looked down the street of packed trailers, his neighbor high on drugs in his front porch, the cracked streets, and trash blowing beneath the trailers, and his little bruised sister who was staring at him through the window.
The noise had stopped.
Joseph began to cry as he finally discovered something on his tenth birthday. He discovered that the fighting had always been around. Not only around the world, or down the street, but within his own bubble. Big boy Joe had found out his perfect little illusion of a perfect home was never real.
May. 20th, 2004 @ 08:18 pm
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| » Kidnapped |
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It was a cold evening just like every other evening. Tom threw me out again. Hit me once, then told me to leave becuase he didn't want to have to hit me again. I should just leave him. Everything I do seems to make him mad. Everything I do just pisses everyone off. And above all, everything I do pisses myself off. There's no where to go, my parents kicked my out too. I just wasn't getting the grades and they thought I was worthless. There's no where to go.
I sat on the forlorn curve and felt my bottom go numb as the ice sent cold stings into my skin. I stared at the icy street with all its stores closed and a homeless man sitting before his small fire pit. The fire looked so warm, but I coudln't bare to ask if I could share some heat. He would probably look at me in disgust too.
Maybe the sun will rise soon. Looking up at the sky, I only saw the endless territory of blackness. I should've brought my glasses. I can't even see the stars. I burried my face in my arms and broke out into tears. The tears seemed to freeze as they ran down my cheeks with icy stains. It was going to be another long night.
As I wiped the last tear off my face I felt a sharp pain in my right arm. The sting traveled through my blood and I felt everything go blurry. I pushed myself up but only stumbled back down. I looked at my arm; a syringe had been stabbed into it. I pulled it out dizzily and quickly dropped it. As I fell on my back, I tried to catch myself but was too weak. My eyes quickly twitched around searching for something. I looked up and saw a man hidden under his black clothing. I couldn't see what he looked like for he had covered himself in black everywhere. I tried to scream for help. But I could barely open my mouth. I looked across the street. The homeless man just sat there staring, his hands over the warm fire pit. Then everything went black.
(Ok, I don't feel like writing the middle of this story because I'm lazy. Maybe I will go back later. Anyhoo, I'll just summarize what was supposed to happen: The girl gets kidnapped by this psychotic person. Although this guy is very crazy, he's very kind to her and has poor social skills. She didn't resist too much after she was kidnapped because she didn't really care. And the kidnapper wouldn't hurt her because he's like that. He only hurts those who don't listen to him and call him names and such. Since he can't get close to people naturally he kidnaps them. After awhile he begins to let her out back into the world as he gains trust that she won't run away.)
So I'm sitting in the car and Henry steps out of the driver's seat. I stare quietly and watch him depart into the grocery store. Henry finally took me back home I thought. Everything looked different after being away for about a year or two. I couldn't really tell how long I've been gone since Henry kept me in his basement with no outlook at the world.
I looked out the window and smiled at the passerbys dealing with their daily errands. Some smiled back but many just ignored me. I thought it was funny how they would have probably never guessed I was the face from a year or two back on posters about saying "Missing Person".
People say people like Henry should get help. I think they're wrong. He needed someone to be close to, and I needed someone to care for me. A person always has someone out there in the world that is willing to fit to the person's needs. I guess you can call it irony, but I think I fell in love with my psycho murdering kidnapper. He wasn't like the other guys. He wouldn't scream or yell at me when I couldn't get something right. He didn't care how many mistakes I would make. He took care of me all for the sake that I would just be around. I guess he only really cared whether I would try to run or not. And I don't think I would ever run because the world he offered me was better than any other world I had before.
You may think being locked in a basement is agonizing torture. But this basement was nice. I had all day long just to relax. The room was nicely furnished and lighted. A book shelf of the best books I've ever read sat on one wall of the basement. There were a wide range of movies and music to listen to. Henry would bring food down to me. After he came home from work we would just do quiet things together like eating or watching a movie, or just nay simple things. He taught me how to draw things better than stick figures. I've probably learned more in that small room than I would have learned living back at home.
I looked out the window again. My heart stopped as I saw a vaguely familar face come out of the car. He stopped too once our eyes made contact.
"...Tom?"
"Allison!" His bursted out. His eyes began to water as he told me to get out. He hugged me and asked where I had been. And if I was ok. He kept saying how happy he was that he found me. That he had been heartbroken when I went missing.
I stare at my teary ex as Henry came behind me furiously and screamed "What are you doing!?". He pulled at my arm and told me to get in the car. I said I was sorry. But he said I was going to get it. And went on about how he had finalyl let me see daylight and this is how I repayed him. He was hitting me as I tried to resist for once and push myself away. He just wouldn't stop, i was scared, I didn't know what to do. No, it wasn't supposed to be like this I thought. And somewhere in his rambling, a gun shot fired.
I stared at Henry's bleeding chest. My eyes began to water as I ran up to him. I screamed his name and told him I was sorry. I was so sorry. He pulled his weak hand around me and told me is was ok, as long as I still accepted him. Together we told eachother thank you. Henry went completely limp. I told him i loved him but he couldn't hear me. He was gone. I then screamed so loud I wouldn't even remember what happened next. It was as thought my emotions were so overwhelming that it took me away from reality. Tom only stared in confusion as he dropped his gone.
"B--bu--t... he took you away. He took you away. He took you away! Away from me!"
I went in a correctional facility after that since they claimed I was crazy. I never saw Tom again. It turned out he had a girlfriend anyway. I spent most of my time imagining the little basement and where it was. I never got to figure out how to go back to Henry's home. I didn't really think that he wouldn't take me back that day.
And then one day, I got a phone call. Henry had left me everything in his will.
May. 13th, 2004 @ 10:13 am
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| » Either Way, It Wouldn’t Matter. |
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Now I'm standing here with a gun at my head staring down the damn cops that have surrounded me yelling the pointless phrase, "put the gun down", so many times that I've stop trying to count. Why the fuck would I put my gun down NOW that I've clearly placed it on my head with confidence. These people are crazy all of them. Hah, and they think I'm the crazy one. They all were once those pathetic kids at my daycare. So damn ignorant and clueless. Now they're placing labels on ME. Saying I'm some crazy bitch pedophile.
This all started when I was running my happy-go-lucky daycare with all these annoying brats running around begging for all sorts of shit. Don't get me wrong, they were cute at first, but when you get stuck with these bastards so long, they're so dumb they drive the shits out of you. "I don't want to do this, I don't want to do that. Tommy just bit me. Feed me." Gosh the list of annoying comments go on. These kids were at the start of what all humans were. They were the meanest things Satan put on this planet.
You see, I have a little boy. I named him Jim and call him Lil' Jim. He's the sweetest little angel you'll ever meet. I thought it was a good idea to help him meet some friends by making this god damn daycare so he can play with the kids. But I only find a bunch of selfish kids, coming and only caring about what they get to do; not caring much for my shy little boy. They threw stuff at my little boy too because he was too shy to get aggressive in games. They called him "boring". It always broke my heart to find my son sitting in the corner crying his eyes out.
It seemed like I was his only friend. He did always look sad when he saw me smoking and drinking my daily booze or two. He always asked me about daddy, and I told him his dad was a dirty rotten scoundrel that left us 'cause he was a bastard. That didn't cheer my son up much either. It turned out taking care of all these kids ended up being completely pointless, 'cause it didn't help my boy make some friends and get the fuck away from me.
One day, Jackson, the sickest little daycare kid I ever had, came out from the bathroom screaming his head off with blood all over his hands. I asked him what the fuck was wrong, really only thinking about whether his problem would cost me anything. Turn out the dumb little brat had cut his dick off.
"What'd you do that for, Jackson?? Are you retarded or something?!"
"Momma told me that dicks were bad because it got her pregnant and left her mistakenly alone with me."
"Are you shitting me??" I yelled back.
When the dumbass mother bitch came and saw me bandaging her kid's once-upon-a-time dick she began calling me a "Fucking sick pedophile whore bitch asslicker" and pretty much any other offensive name you can call someone. I told her the kid did it himself, but she wouldn't care even if she heard me. She was just as poor as I was, so of course she would sue me to get all the money she could.
Pissed at this whole life, I told my boy to hurry and pack his bags since we’re leaving after all the kids at the daycare left. He told me that we couldn't just leave, we had no where to go. I told him to shut the fuck up and that leaving this dump of a trailer and city was like leaving nothing. I drunk the four bottles of the beer I had left in my fridge and decided to burn the trailer. You see, I was getting real pissed and just didn’t care.
My boy and I drove for a few days I bought him lots of ice cream since it was hot almost everyday. A living hell. As we were driving he asked if he could see daddy and that maybe daddy had a home he and I could live in.
"I told you Lil’ Jim, your father’s a rotten bastard. If you keep asking me about him I’ll have to saw your dick off like Jackson. Your father did nothing for us. He left us because he a rotten, mean, old bastard. He doesn’t love you and you should just stop thinking about the damn old bastard."
I saw my boy’s eyes watering , his fist clenched tight. I didn’t want to hear no crying so I turned the radio on as loud as it could go. I begin singing a few words when Lil' Jim punched the radio off as hard as he could. His thin little arms trembling against my broken radio.
"Momma, daddy left because of YOU didn’t he?" He screamed furiously.
"What the fuck are you thinking? What the fuck do you think you're saying to me?!" That damn ignorant bastard, he knows shit.
"He left... because of you didn’t he? Because you’re... you’re... a... BITCH!! Didn’t he?!!?"
Lil' Jim had broken down into a loud ear-tearing scream of a cry. I told him to hush and never say a fucking bad word again; especially to me. He kept going for about a minute when I finally slapped the noisy thing.
"Shut the Fuck up!" I yelled at him.
Just then, I see a police car ringing its siren from behind. "Shit" I said. I tried to keep focus on driving. I weren't gonna stop. I ain't ever gonna stop. Looking at the mirror again, I saw two more police cars joining the first one. Fuck I thought and stepped on the peddle. The car zoomed down the street as Little Jim's cries halted. He became attentive on what was happening as he quickly put on his seatbelt. He said something, but I was too much in a panic to hear. They chased me for about 35 minutes until two police cars came from my front and blocked my way.
"Fuck!" I yelled as I stepped on the brakes and broke my car to dust cloud screeching halt.
"Get out of the car, Mrs. Kirk!" the police yelled.
I reached around the compartment in the car, searching for an item. There, I had got it. I then stepped out, and placed the gun on my head and yelled profane words at the damn bastards. They think they can get me? No one can get me, but me. The children that were playing on the street stopped their playing and stared with interest at what was happening. Staring like the whole thing was a damn circus. I saw some mothers find their kids and pulled them away. I laughed. They probably thought I was crazy. And now here I am, standing and just laughing my head off at the whole world.
"Put the gun down, ma'am!"
No, I thought. They gun's in my hand. I've got this power right here, and they ain't gonna take it from me. I was standing at the center of the crowd all by myself when Lil' Jim just had to run out from the car up to me. He hugged my waist. I stare down at him in shock.
"Please, mommy. Please stop. I'm sorry. Please .. P-P-Please. Just make it stop. Just..." His trembling voice trailed off. He pushes himself off my waist and rubs his eyes. I hadn’t noticed how skinny he was until now. I probably should have taken an extra shift at work so that I could have gotten him some better food. He looks so frail and weak. I hope he'll make some friends once his only friend is gone.
I pull the gun off from my head. I didn't want to kill myself. I hear you go directly to hell if you commit suicide. So I point the gun at my boy's head and felt sharp pains at my sides. The police shot me. Numerous shots came from the many policemen that stood scattered around. They were all around, and I was trapped in their little circle. I laugh out loud one more time. It happened just as I expect... Just as I wanted. I collapse onto the ground watching the blood trail off. I looked up at Lil' Jim. I wasn't going to shoot my baby. I wouldn't ever think about shooting my little angel. I knew it wouldn't matter if I was alive. I looked up at Jim. I hope he'll grow up strong. And I knew, whether I was alive or not, Either Way, It Wouldn’t Matter.
Apr. 26th, 2004 @ 04:02 pm
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| » Brain Collapse |
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Cold night. Its cold in my bed. The blankets make me cold. I want someone to come. No one is around. No one will ever be here but me.
I step out of my bed, a blank black world drowning me. I fade into its massive shadows. The only noise is that of a single tear drop falling.
I'm all alone here. I don't know what to do. The bed that layed behind me is now gone, and I run. I run as fast as I can. Nothing but darkness. Nothing.
A voice comes in the distance. It whispers.
A girl with a broken body lies limp on the ground. I run to her. I've found her.
I try to pick her up. But she grows too heavy. The shadows begin to stir and creatures come roaring out.
I'm sweating. Why is she so heavy? There's too much burden she's put on my on. Get up. I said get up!
I scream and die. The end.
[ written sometime last year... was just found on an old website I had but never released ]
Apr. 26th, 2004 @ 03:54 pm
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| » Trapped |
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Stuck in the drowning darkness that trapped her soul in an everlasting torture, she sat with blood-thirsty eyes that stared at the empty black walls stained with blood she spilled days ago. One thousands years would she have to stay here waiting for a door to open her way to light. But as the grains of time fell, she sat trapped in the forlorn room with no vision of what would lay beyond her prison.
Anger enveloped her as she released a raging scream and ran towards the walls scratching and pounding with her skin ripping and bleeding. Unsatisfied and angered with what she had done, she ran to the isolated corner and in attempts to bring comfort and calm her raging soul, she held herself down with a fierce grasp upon her body. She tried holding down her scratching hands, but instead could only fall into her needs to release her frustration. She screamed as her skin tore in this torture she had put herself into.
Bleeding and bleeding, life slowly drained away from her, tears weighing themselves down her pale cheeks. So long has it been since sunlight last brought warmth to her pale and frozen cheeks. So long has she felt the warmth of her blood running through her body. Everything felt so cold as she watched a trail of crimson red trickle from her bleeding arms.
Unable to control her urges she rushed once again towards the blank walls and searched for a hidden light that may have hid somewhere in the cracks. She scratched and scratching with her bleeding fingers, but like her many attempts before, she reached nowhere.
A thought rushed through her mind... That perhaps if she murdered this body, her essence and spirit could escape through the walls. She pressed her nails deep into her neck hoping to release her soul from her body and this prison in which she felt eternally trapped. "Let me out! Let me out," were the only thoughts that ran deep into her agonizing mind.
Just as she felt warm blood slide down her thin fingers from her slit neck, her vision went white and her body grew weak from this unexpected beauty. It was like an overwhelming light. It was so beautiful. Her hands slid from her neck and upon her chest where she felt her heart beat. The heart beat felt so melodic and brought hope for her painful state.
She smiled.
But as she smiled and fell to her knees the light faded, and there again she saw the dark room. Tears drowned her face in agony as she grasped herself whole and begged herself to breathe. She had hope, however. Hope that one day she will see that light again.
Hope. A human emotion so strong and inspiring. But with this hope, this poor girl is willing to endure another lifetime in darkness and grief.
Apr. 2nd, 2004 @ 04:08 pm
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| » Maze |
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[ Note: This is by far the worst story I've written. I think the story idea (check comments for the main story idea) is alrite, but the writing... my gosh, horrible now that I reread. I will never force myself to write again. Just don't work. ]
It was a forbidden game. Only those of high classes were allow to roam in its boundaries. Marked with a star upon their backs, only few were able to enter through the mystic gate. The others looked upon the door and became enamored with its intricate designs of gold upon a tranquil and glimmering stone.
A young lower classed male of the village had often stared at the door, curious with what lied beyond. His daily errands had allowed him to pass by the door throughout the day. Yet the many times he had passed it, it would continuously stay a mystery to him.
At midday on an ordinary work day, he took his steps up to the door and placed his gentle hands upon that diamond that was centered upon the door. That diamond that so many times before had brought out the deadly human traits such as envy. Unexpectedly his dirty hands brought the gem to a hypnotizing glow and the gates to the game open.
Unknowing of what lied ahead, he took his steps into its boundaries, the door shutting silently behind him.
Wandering around the endless halls that twisted each other around one another he found himself walking in circles and in a maze. This was what the high classes played? Foolish, he thought. Hesitant of whether to continue on, he eventually decided to head back since he didn't know where he was heading in the maze anyway.
But after about a day, he found himself lost in the lost and frantically rushed about looking for an exit. Time and time fell in the hour glass, yet he had found himself to achieve no distance.
Soon almost a week had past, his body aching. His belly growled with pain and his mouth bled with dryness. More and more time passed. Soon his beaten body hit the ground and his eyes burned in pain. He felt his reality leaving him.
But he heard whispers begging him to awaken. They whispered mystic hymns that had somehow revived his soul. He awakened to find a young female playing a unique flute. Its notes resonating in the air and bringing radiant glow to the area. He stared in awe at her, almost lost in a hypnotized stare.
She stopped playing and open her closed eyes. Her head turned upward revealing her gentle face.
"You've awakened?" She asked.
"Yes, thank you. How did you do that? I mean ... you gave me such energy to live again," he asked.
"I'm not sure how I do things sometimes... I'm just able to, I can't always do it, though."
"It was beautiful. Thank you."
She giggled, and just then the thought struck him again of a haunting memory. That the he was still stuck in the never ending maze.
"Wait!" he anxiously exclaimed. "I'm still here? I can't seem to figure out how to go back out, I've been searching and am so exhausted. Where are we?"
The girl frowned, " You can't leave. It's a game you can't leave until you find the end. I've been searching for the end for a long time. You do not know what lies at the end for all who have reach it can not return to tell," she paused and after a hesitant thought, " I've been looking for someone to journey with me. I haven't seen an people for quite some time ... would you mind journeying with me?"
"Of course not! I really have no better choice, and you probably know your way around better."
He wasn't alone anymore. She had found him and helped him out of his pain. He would no longer have to walk the game alone anymore.
After passing through the paths only fragments of hints could be found to the end. Their most powerful clue was a small stone that glowed brighter as the end grew closer and closer, like a bible in which they followed the most basic understanding. It was given to them by a enigmatic sage dressed in a purple gown who had disappeared into the shadows long earlier.
As time passed, the girl would continuously play her music, which ended any pain the man would have as her notes shimmered and danced in the air. The two grew love for one another and soon accepted this world as their home and each other as companions and friends.
It was exactly one year later, that they reached a point in which the small stone erupted into small sparks so bright that it burned their vision. Before them had laid two doors in which they were insecure on whether to continue on through the doors or not.
"You do not have a star on your back," the girl said.
"I don't know why I was allowed in here either. I am born of no purity unlike the noble ones."
"Perhaps it doesn't care anymore."
"What doesn't care?"
"Perhaps it doesn't care who walks its paths anymore. It doesn't watch over us anymore. And through its carelessness, you, corrupted mortal, were let in."
They stood together in a moment of silence.
"Shall we enter the right or the lift one?" he asked.
"Is it better to enter?"
"We've finally reached the end. Should we give up now?"
"Would it be better to?"
He thought for a moment. "No."
"So be it, human. Choose your door."
The left door was chosen. One door to hell. One door to heaven. Whether the path the man choose led to the desired arrival point, we shall never be told for only a blinding bright light glowed from the entrance of either door. We will never know whether his choice was the favorable one or not, for he , along with the millions of others who reached the doors, will not return to tell.
Mar. 24th, 2004 @ 04:30 pm
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| » Forbidden Flower |
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Mommy had always spent her passtime in the garden. She took care of all the flowers, and fed them all well with the smalls pebbles she would occasionally sprinkle with gentle grace. But as I watched Mommy during the last three days, I noticed something quite peculiar. Mother's love seemed more toward the pretty flower that she had centered in our little garden.
I came out one day, tip-toeing across the soft grass while counting the stones that laid scattered across my invisible path. As I drew up to the flower I watched it from all sides. I saw nothing special about the flower and giggled thinking why my mother gave so much thought to it.
I decided to just pick a peddle to see if my mother would notice. Just as the peddle was slightly pulled of the stem, I felt a hard slap on the back of my head. Grabbing the pain, I stared up to find my mother's angry eyes.
"You don't just go taking what someone loves apart."
"But Mommy, why do you love this flower? Do you love it more than me?"
"Of course not, dearest. It's just when you've devoted so much time to something, it becomes a part of you. And you come to even love it. You know how I love you more then anything in the world."
"More than this flower?"
"So much more. You are my special flower. I won't let the world take you apart, just like I won't let you take the flower apart. My Forbidden Flower. Forbidden only until you can withstand the world yourself."
After pondering what Mommy said, I was quite confused. I'm a flower? A forbidden flower? What does she mean?
On a sunday morning, I had an urged to run outside in the bright morning sun before heading to church and find some neighbors to play with. It was the new year, and last night was supposed to be a fun night for the adults. But I was forced to go to sleep. Mommy said adults are scary and energetic on New Year's eve. So I slept. But now I was energetic ready to start the new year off and bright.
I jogged down the street looking for a friend. And as I reached the corner I saw a pretty flower on the other side of the street. This flower looked so much like Mommy's flower, and noticing this fact I decided this flower would be my flower. My forbidden flower to love and cherish.
Just as I ran across the street, a light flashed at my side. It was like God's light. Suddenly, I felt pain fiercely strike my tiny body and felt blood pour out from my eyes and nose. The car had pushed me up onto the sidewalk next to the flower. I stared at it, my vision bleeding. I begin to hear voices all around. They were talking, whispering. I couldn't hear.
In a moment, however, I could heard Mommy's voice. Mommy's voice sounded weak and grew to a loud, worried screamed. I tightly grasped the flower that now laid next to my hand. I felt the blood rush through my palm as I held it tightly.
"Mommy-- Why does--- it hurt so much?"
Mommy said something back, embracing me with all her love... and all her tears. I tried to speak but the pain had now numbed my lips...
"I --- I'm --- Sorry, Mom -- my."
Her head fell over my shoulders as she held me tight. As she lifted me off the ground and whispered her last words to me, my hands yanked the flower from the earth up with it. I tried to hold on to its stem, but I felt it slipping and slipping, and soon it left my grasp.
All grew silent and dark.
Mar. 9th, 2004 @ 09:33 pm
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| » Broken Wings |
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In His Eyes
He sat in the lonesome corner under the dark shadows that the night had brought. Trails of bloods stained his back as they shimmered under the moon's essence. They trailed from the wounds in which his wings once sprung from, in which he could soar with. His breath was hard against the gentle breeze that swept throughout the land.
His eyes searched across the sea that endlessly stretched before him, and her gentle face appeared in the tranquil waters, faded and broken. Squinting his eyes, his heart ached staring at her delicate image. If he had only had his wings, he would soar to her side and embrace her. But the broken wings that bleed on his back would carry him no where.
His body was soakened as he entered the shallow waters and began swimming and swimming and swimming. But he got nowhere. The pain from the distance that separated him from her overwhelmed him to the point in which the salty water that stung his wounds could not be felt.
He stared at the horizon that seemed so distant and cursed and yelled at it. He only ended up in painful tears that stabbed his heart a million times. Let him be with her, let him be with her, he could only cry. But with the broken wings and broken soul and endless distance, his wish would not be granted.
In Her Eyes
Grasping the golden chain that hung gracefully from her neck, tears weighed themselves down to the edge of her cheeks. She stood at the shore's edge waiting for him. The pain of what once was loved, now gone, drowned her heart in agony and torture. When will he return?
The thought that he did not love her anymore, that he did that care for her made her grief and mourning stronger as the grains of time fell. Her mortality kept her from running across the endless oceans in search of him.
As her fingers indented the sand with the words that ached her heart so dearly, the waves washed the words away. She wished the words would also be washed away from her heart so that the pain wouldn't be so strong. But they were still imprinted deeps into her soul, so she scratched out the words onto a piece of wood and sent into the ocean's currents. She watched the wood float away, marked with the words "I love you".
Looking at the horizon for the last time, she turns around and takes her first steps away from the ocean's horizon.
Feb. 27th, 2004 @ 05:54 pm
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| » Car Ride |
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Turn on the motors and zoom down the streets.
Lifes gonna take you outta the beat.
Turn some corners and miss some others.
You aint always gonna turn to mother.
Telling yourself this whole car rides a hell.
Hitting a wall like nothing's gone well.
Telling yourself to get over and forget the hell ride.
Yet when your all better you hop in the car for another damn ride.
Feb. 21st, 2004 @ 11:58 am
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| » Solitude Rose |
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They were all together. All those people. She had the choice to be together too. But she chose not to be. Away from them all. And she is completely content. Content with her choice.
A pretty rose was sent before her door. It warmed her heart and she quickly embraced it. But as her love flowed to this beauty, a prick fell upon her finger. The blood flowed down it's stem, as she placed in a clear crystal vase of tranquil water.
Placed upon the center table. The flower was beautiful all alone. Needing no other by itside. It's solitude was a magnificence. But who knows, perhaps another person would rather prefer: a full vase of roses for Valetines Day.
Feb. 14th, 2004 @ 06:15 pm
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| » Hurt Me Not |
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Don't make me hurt you.
The End.
Feb. 14th, 2004 @ 06:15 pm
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