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TW: Gore, Suicide/Self Harm, Loss of a Parent, Mental Health The saltwater licks up the wall of the cliff face as a cool breeze carries the scent into my nose. The rocks below are grey and jagged, but rather than interrupting the calm ambiance, it contributes in splitting the crashing waves. The rhythmic fwoosh of a wave coming and retreating echoes below, and the wind softly whips back and forth. Somewhere a crow caws to its own rhythm. That's something I've noticed, that everything seems to follow a rhythm; Erratic or consistent, in synchr...
WIP He tends to me every day, again and again. I've not gone a day without his input or him changing something about me. Sometimes I wish he'd settle for a form, choose one thing and stick by it; Just be happy with me. But, he continues to change me in his new image, one that changes daily. I've learned that people aren't all that good at settling, they always want just a little bit more. And after that, why not more? They keep going. One plus to this is that I am getting better each time, closer to his image of perfection--I cannot wait to ...
"Hey there folks, and welcome to this week's 'WHO DONE IT?' Here, we have a wonderful specimen; A body lie upon a chair on the balcony of this hote-" "Jared, shut the fuck up," I snipped. "This is not the time for that." Jared is the oldest detective in the department, yet he acts like a child. Why can't he just take this job seriously? Someone died and he's over here pretending to host a goddamn game show. "Well, isn't that the question burning itself into our heads right now? Why take a sad moment and make it even sadder, when we can just....
The rhythm was perfect. Each tap, each flourish, synchronized and in time. It was an odd tempo, wasn't it. Something strange about it, like it wasn't quite what your mind wanted to hear. Just a tad faster than it should have been, yet not quite fast enough to make sense. While the speed was off-putting, everything else remained consistent and beautiful. Perhaps this is what it means to be human.To take something that innately annoys you, and to turn it into something elegant. To turn pain into art. What better way to conquer it, than to ridi...
Today is April 31. Tomorrow will be April 32. And so on. I'm not sure if it was intentionally April, or just coincidence, but everything happened on April 1. Since then, we've decided that we would just keep counting the days in April. I know how weird that sounds - trust me, I still think it's weird - but listen. There is nothing left. I don't mean that metaphorically, either. I don't mean I live in a wasteland - I do, but that's not what I mean. I don't even mean that the human race is wiped out. I mean there is literally nothing. Outside,...
Weekly Contest #345
CW: Mental health, gore I take pride in my name. Michael. Sure, it's simple, it's common, whatever. But it's me. Some people call me Mike, some people pronounce the whole name. A couple people have unique nicknames for me, but for the most part, I am Michael. Everyone here knows me, save for the newest of the newcomers. I went to the public high school because my parents couldn't afford to send me to the private one. But that's okay, and honestly I prefer it that way. If I went somewhere else I don't know where I would be. Who I'd be. 22 yea...
Here we go. Lana gazed into the eyes of Joseph as she proudly spoke the words, "I do." Lana was a beautiful young lady, the kind that the entire town waited in suspense to see who she married. Joseph was the one, the lucky boy who had gotten it all. Lana's father was a wealthy businessman who practically ran the town alongside the governor due to his grasp on the economy, which made Lana seem all the more desirable. Joseph wasn't much of a figure in the town, but the two happened to meet over drinks and their drunk demeanors pleased each o...
I made it! We're here now. Seventeen days of straight travel but it was all worth it. This place is so beautiful... Glorious pieces of art, both natural and man-made, strewn endlessly about. I feel at home here, the same mediums I have spent my life perfecting being displayed on such a grand scale in this forest. A beauty to behold, truly. It's like all of my life and everything I have learned was taught to me by this forest, through other things. All along, it was this place, influencing it all so I may eventually discover it. What an amaz...
It was over. There was nothing more Jake could do, for he had done it all. Every ability, fact, and idea had been explored. And it hurt so badly, his whole life dedicated to doing everything and now there was nothing left. Nothing but death.On the wall of this strange room at the end of the universe which he stood in was writing. His own language, one of the many he created for the sake of it, although it was by far his favorite. Thousands upon thousands of entries to some journal. All signed Jake.37,908 Jakes before him, all recounting thei...
His heart was broken. Sarah, his truest of loves, had left him. She could not bear to deal with him any longer. In and out of the hospital, Sarah saw George as a burden both financially and mentally more than another person she could share her life with. George could not understand, as all he ever did was care. To him, a relationship only entailed constant mutual care for the other, but Sarah required more than that, and George could not fulfill her demands. As a hopeless romantic, all George could do was love during the relationship and we...
Weekly Contest #326
This story contains sensitive themes such as mental health, physical violence, and suicide. I do not know why people are mad at me. They say things, yell things, that I think they think will hurt me. They seem to not be able to control this anger that they have. I have done nothing wrong to them, so I do not understand their reaction. It seems merely childish to me. They cannot think well enough, perhaps.I have done a few things, I suppose. Nothing that is as bad as their yells, of course, but I think I might know why they are so deafenin...
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