Monday, March 4, 2013

Slash

Based on my cutting experiences, and other events in my life.  Thankfully, it never got this far for me.  My friend pulled me back, and for that I am thankfull.
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He loves me.
slash
He loves me not.
slash
He loves me.
slash
He loves me not.
slash
It’s dripping.  Huh. It’s satisfying. At least I’m doing something right.
It doesn’t matter what they say.  They can’t do anything. Nothing. 
It’s not like they care, anyway.
And her.  She asks me why, why am I doing this?
Hah.  Like she doesn’t know.  It’s not her fault, is it?
Is it?
No.  Not hers.  It’s his.  Only his.
slash
No, don’t cry. Stop crying, bitch.
SLASH
Ow. That one stung.
Next side.
Stop, he says.  Stop.
Make Me.
Please stop.
I can’t.
slash.
Stop.
slash.
Please.
slash
Stop…
 Still dripping.  Dripping, sliding down, pooling.  Sliding off the bed, slipping to the floor.  Drip, drip, drip, rain off a tree.
Hmmm… trees.  I like trees…. Maybe I can go outside and play with them…
No.  finish.  Finish and then play.
slash
But I can’t if I finish I leave them, never see them again, by themselves, see?  Want to play…
NO.  can’t stop. 
slash
But I want to…  heyy door is opening… how can door open? 
“MARY!”
Finish.  Finish now!!!!
“oh god oh god its all over the floor…”
“call an ambulance!!!”
“Nooo… momdontimalmostdone”
There.  Finished.  Happy now?
 “we’re losing her oh please god no
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Surprise

Also a school piece, inspired after my visit to Salem, Massachusetts.  I fell in love with the area, and also Arthur Miller's The Crucible.  This is fake; however, some events mentioned did happen- but as far as I know, there was never a Ruth Waghner in Salem.

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.”Hangman.” The Sheriff nods, and 5 bodies cascade from the gallows.


The crowd is in turmoil, whistling and screaming “begone, servants of the devil!”
I stand alone, watching the chaos unfolding around me, the lone voice screaming in despair to the night sky. They didn’t deserve this. I feel numb as I am sheparded home by my mother, her eyes gleaming with bloodthirst, her mouth set wide in a satisfied smile. “See, Ruth, dear?” My mother’s voice was sickly sweet, the words coated in sugar to hide the malice that she felt for ‘witches’.
“That is justice well done.” She motioned her hand towards the bodies of Sarah Good, Rebecca Nurse, Susannah Martin, Elizabeth Howe and Sarah Wilde, all hanged only moments before. I swallowed the bile that rose in my throat when I glanced over at the bodies swinging in the wind. 
“Y-Yes, Mother,” I said weakly, turning my head back to her quickly, unwilling to watch the swaying corpses any longer. 
“What’s that, girl? I couldn’t hear you.” The sneer in my mother’s voice was unmistakable, and I knew I would get a whipping later for acting “uncivilized” in public. “Do you not approve of the law?”
“Yes, Mother” I say louder and clearer. 
“Good. You are not a devil child.” She glares at Mr. Good, who is clutching his daughter Dorothy to his chest, sobbing as he is yanked away from Goody Sarah’s body by the law enforcers of the town. 
“Mama-” I began uneasily, about to ask her if she could at least be sensitive to the relatives of those hanged. 
“What, Ruth? Do you not think that we should speak out against the vermin plaguing our country?” Her voice grew harder, “Do you not believe that the followers of Satan should be hanged?” 
“I-I…”
Her honey-coated smile disappeared. “We shall speak of this when we reach home.” Her voice was icy, and I knew my failure to answer would cost me. I followed her silently as we walked down the hill, heading towards the town. Salem was a modest little town- the only thing that made us unusual now were those accursed girls, who had thrown us into turmoil. Elizabeth Parris, Mary Walcott, Ann Putnam and Abigail Williams started having “fits” and claim that spirits of people in the town are hurting them. Soon people are being accused left and right of being witches, and now our town is complete chaos. No one knows who they can trust. My opinion on the matter is that it is ridiculous. Witches don’t exist- and if they do exist, then they certainly don’t exist in my town. Why, Martha Corey, Giles Corey’s wife, was accused because of her fondness for books! (By her own husband, which makes the whole matter even worse- at least, that’s what I’ve heard.) It’s not hard to ask questions in this town now… everyone is up to date on all things witchcraft.
My mother holds the door open for me as I step inside the house. She was unusually quiet the whole walk over, and I knew something was wrong the minute she walked out 10 minutes later. “I have some… errands to run.” She said vaguely, but I knew that wasn’t what she was going to do. So, as soon as she left, I ran upstairs and began tossing belongings into my father’s satchel. I should have known this was coming- the moment I had hesitated to answer when she asked if I approved of hanging she was suspicious. She was going to take me to court, I knew it- on charges of wishing the Devil’s followers to run free. It was preposterous for me to expect it- after all; it seems you have to be accused by the girls to be hanged. But still, the memory of that cold smile on the way home terrified me. Her own daughter… I zipped up the bag and ran downstairs, hoping I could slip outside and somehow escape the town. If I could make it to the woods, I had a fair chance. 
I jumped the last four steps, landing on my feet, and opened the door- only to find my mother standing there.
With the sheriff.
And the hangman.
“H-Hello, Mother.” My voice shook as I stepped aside. “Won’t you come in?”
“Ruth Waghner, you are arrested under charges of Satanism. You are to be executed by order of hanging on August 19, 1692. Please come with us.”
“B-But that’s today. How can I be hanged today?! I should have a trial!”
“This is a… rather special hanging. It has been requested by your family, and others are witness based on your reaction to the hangings. Come with us.”
In other words, people were thirsting for blood. 
“NO!” I screamed and struggled to get past them, but 20 minutes later, there I was at Gallows Hill with a rope around my neck.
A crowd had gathered- No surprise, considering that barely 30 minutes ago there had been a hanging. I searched the crowd, struggling to find that face…
“M-Mama-“I choked out, trying not to cry.
“It’s for the best, Ruth.” Her face was void of all emotion. 
“It’s for the best.”
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Cheater

A later piece.  Written as an assignment for English Class, originally.

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What the HELL? I mean, WHAT THE HELL????!!!!
I slammed my books down on the table, silently screaming at myself for not realizing before. How could I be so stupid? How could I not have realized what was going on behind my back? The secretive whispers, the giggling, the red faces coming out of my room when I came back from the kitchen.

"Aria? Ari, wait!" Chiana's tear stained face appeared around the corner, her gray eyes glistening with tears, looking like the sky on a cloudy day.

"No, Chi! You hurt me and you cheated on me with MY boyfriend in MY house! Did you honestly think I wouldn't find you? How STUPID can you be? Kissing in MY bedroom while you both knew that I was just down the hall? I was just going to the kitchen! I always knew YOU were dim, but did you really believe I was?"

She was silent, tears coursing down her face in a river of pain.
I felt terrible. I had said things I didn't mean, and I had hurt her bad- but what was I supposed to do? Speak softly to her and tell her it was ok that she was a boyfriend-stealing slut?

"WELL, CHIANA? Aren't you going to say something? Do you even feel the slightest hint of remorse for eating my boyfriend’s face?!"

She opened her mouth, then closed it again, standing silently while tears formed a puddle on the floor.

"No? I didn't think so." I turned around and fled from the house, heading towards the snowy woods, running hard to get away from this house, away from these people, to find my secret place with the trees and the stillness of peace.

I cried as I fled, tears splashing the ground before my feet. Chiana had been my friend from birth! How could she do this to me? And Josh... Why? I mean, it's not like I thought we would get married, or anything; we're only 16, after all.
But I never expected this. Kissing my best friend, in my room, on my bed, where we had spent hours, me crying and him comforting me after my dad left. I think that's why I held on to him so strongly- he was the only guy in my life, and I wasn't about to lose him like I lost my father.

CRUNCH! My feet hit leaves, crunching under my feet as I ran further into the forest.
Almost there...
Yes. I breathed in, the fresh, cool winter air stinging my face as the wind brushed the leaves off the trees. I stared at the lake, a small thing that was surrounded by the red
snow berries that shown like blood against the pure white background.
And then I broke down completely. I cried out my soul, my heart, to the trees, the whispering trees with bark the color of josh's eyes, to the weeds surrounding the frozen pool of water before me, to the leaves on the floor of the forest, brittle and cracked.
I thought of my dad, and what he used to sing to me when we went on walks in the forest...


I thought of Josh, stroking my hair and whispering promises that he would never leave me like my father.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, I stopped crying. I had made up my mind, and there was only me thing I could do to save myself... And that was to leave.
Forever.
I approached the pool, the ice glistening on the surface, looking just like Chiana's gray, gray eyes. I took a breath. Did I really want to do this? I thought of the last time I had seen her, tears falling down her face as she tried to speak to me, tell me why she was a cheater.
A cheater.
That reminded me why I was here in the first place, standing barefoot in the frost-bitten forest, on the brink of leaving my friends, my family, forever.
Josh. He had caressed me, held me, whispering to me I was beautiful, sharing kisses with me under the stars; all the while whispering the same things, murmuring the same promises in another ear, kissing another pair of lips, and caressing the face of my best friend.
No.
I had to do this. I had to stop lying to myself.

I took another deep breath, and leaped forwards onto the ice, the fragile substance breaking beneath my feet as I plunged into the freezing water. As I slowly sunk to the bottom of the pool, my life draining away, I thought about everything that had happened that day. I thought about my mom, about the tearstained face she would surely have when they found my frozen body. I thought about Chiana, breaking down at my funeral, screaming in despair and remorse for what she had driven me to do.
I thought of josh, his face when they told him, his beautiful chocolate brown eyes brimming with tears as he spoke about me, how he had loved me, how he had-
Wait.
He lied. He cheated. He had never cared about me. He probably couldn't stand me. Why else would he have taken her instead?

All this I thought as I sunk to the bottom of the lake, desperately trying to hold onto my last dregs of life to speak a word to the faces swimming before my eyes. I saw my family, my friends, gathered around the pool. But I didn't see Josh.
He told me he loved me. I never should have believed him.
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BLACK

This is a poem.  I wrote it while I was feeling down... actually, I write alot of things when I'm feeling down- it' not my normal writing style, but here it is.
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BLACK

Running
Through the Woods
in the Night
from
Them
Breathing Hard
Hear the Wind
Find a Soul            
Not a Soul
Anywhere
Nowhere
Empty
Footsteps
Calling
Laughter
They've Got Me
Struggling
Can I
Find A
Way To
Stop The
Pain
Glint
Knife
gasp
BLACK
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*Image Not Mine.

Blog Introduction

This is my fic blog; every story I've written is on here, in it's original format.  Comment and let me know what you think.