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A Child Off The GridThe year was 2112, three years after the third world war. Peace was the constant. As with the end of war, reconstruction was called for. People joined hand-in-hand to rebuild the peace they have yearned for so much. They built a unified city, a city with one leader and one government. They called this great city “Irini.”
At this great time of peace, technology was everywhere. Almost everyone had access to technology. Everyone but an unfortunate few.
One of these unfortunate few was a child named Emem, born of the war, and named after peace.
The child had no access to technology, a raid by an unnamed country wiped out all the technology off the child’s district, pushing them off the grid indeterminately.
His district was far off from any other; residents of it were forced to travel to other districts to gain access to technology. This was not only terribly inconvenient to them, but it was also equally expensive. Emem was unfortunately born in the extremely poor family
Yaya! The Life and Times of Bernadette Dimayuga C1Chapter 1: Stop Telephoning Me
You hear the abbey bells ring, they signal the beginning of the day. The reverend mother and the other sisters are on their way to sing the morning hymns. All that peace in the abbey is too much for you. You simply need to get out and sing! You quietly sneak away to the hills.
It's all green there, the birds are flying, and the animals are mating. The breeze is cool, and you just can't resist singing:
The hills are alive with the sound of music
With songs they have sung for a thousand years
It's too beautiful, the birds started to sing with you, and together you all go:
The hills fill my heart with the sound of music
My heart wants to sing every song it hears
You are then surrounded by the birds, as they clothe you in a white dress, a man appears before you. It's the love of your life, who we will be naming later on. He kneels down, grins sweetly, pulls out a ring from his pocket, and says:
STOP CALLING, STOP CALLING, I DON'T WANNA THINK ANYMORE
I LEFT MY
Short Story Intro: A Child Named EmemThe year was 2112, three years after the third world war. Peace is now the constant. As with the end of war, reconstruction was called for. People joined hand-in-hand to rebuild the peace they have yearned for so much in the last 20 years. They built a unified city, a city with one leader and one government. They called this great city "Irini"
At this great time of peace, technology was everywhere. Almost everyone had access to technology. Everyone but an unfortunate few.
One of these unfortunate few was a child named Emem, born of the war, and named after peace. The child's head bore yellow locks that shined under the artificial sun. Emem was androgynous; the child mystified everyone, even the writer. However, we will assume that the child is male.
The child had no access to technology, a raid by an unnamed country wiped out all the technology off the child's district, pushing them off the grid indeterminately.
The district was far off from any other; residents of it were forced to tr
Failed NaNoWriMo: A Group of Crows"Iz' six 'o clock already, shop's closed." Andrew Chapelman, a man in his 50s, said before he closed the door to his establishment. "Gots' me a family in old country, gotta save them up some grub."
Andrew closed the lights, and walked off to his home. The walk wasn't quiet, like all walks. But one thing- it didn't go as well as he expected.
"CAWW! CAWW!" a figure screeched from an unknown place. "Who goes there?" He said, as he walks faster. "BUKAWW! BUKAWW!" The figure screeched louder, Andrew was getting more frightened. "W-w-who goes there? L leave me be!" He said in his usual accent, walking faster, this time running.
Andrew, terrified as heck, ran for his life, dropping his leather bag and black umbrella. "CAWW! CAWW!" He heard the sound once more, he ran faster, as beads of sweat ran down his forehead.
Andrew reached his destination, luckily unharmed. Beads of sweat turned to streams. He cupped himself for his keys, but to no avail, nothing. "Oh fricklefrackle, my bag!" He s
A Ball of AngerIt is my own choice
to shout in my voice.
Louder than the noise,
"Oh, the world's joys!"
My smile is endless,
Going for miles deemed aimless.
But indeed that was an exaggeration,
nothing but an evil manipulation.
It is my choice to speak
in a manner most sarcastic
if my anger reached its peak
And I am what you call, "ticked."
Indeed I am not elated
Obviously not felicitated
You are clueless beyond doubt,
ignoring my furious bout.
I absolutely do not blame you
For the things you do.
I blame myself for being stupid
and acting beyond tepid.
"My anger curled up to a ball
To hide from your eyes
for they were standing tall,
enough to hear its cries."
Did you see my metaphor?
Why I used it I do not know what for.
Perhaps it is to emphasize
My idiocy without compromise.
I am sorry for hiding
The fire before it grew hot
Perhaps my efforts would not be for naught
If I showed it to you for biding.
I Will Look BackAfter a life of no regrets
and a life beyond perfect;
At the end of my life,
I will look back.
I will look back
at the life I deemed perfect,
with one thought in my mind,
"This was all a lie."
Shocked and bereaved am I
To witness my life unfolding.
All the quarrels and misfortunes
Seemed all too realistic.
"What have I done?"
I say with a tear.
"The life I deemed perfect
was despicable to my eyes."
Now with my eyes closing
and my breath departing
I regret that I have lived
without fear and regret
The wounds of time cannot be healed.
The damage inflicted is irreversible.
Believe me when I say,
"I am sorry for what I have done."
A Glass of EmotionsClick once and turn then push
To reveal a bar lighted in dim
Once so full and lush
but now empty and skim.
A man turns around with a smile.
A smile so wide it was vile,
He then spoke with his lips,
with his hands on his hips.
"What'cha havin', sir?
Drinks of all sorts I have,"
He spoke with a slur.
"So, what'll you have?"
"Here is a drink you must not overdrink,
A drink I like to call Bravery.
Drink too much it will lead to the brink,
and at once you drop to slavery."
"How about some Love?
Aye, I like this one, bub!
Drink too much, you go insane,
Speaking words too inane!"
"Have some Realization, have one!
Though if overdosed don't come a-knocking,
For I must make a clever pun.
Drink too much and it'll be... shocking."
He then smiles to me quite wide,
as I stare at a man whose madness
is a madness I cannot subside.
Surely, this man dropped me into sadness!
Click once and turn then pull,
To conceal a bar lighted in dim
With a man inside full of bull
Now I know why it was empty and skim.
Stand My GroundHow much more of my might would it take,
to stand my ground and make it shake,
scream at people who are fake,
and say, "This, I cannot take!"
To all those laughs
which label me quite daft;
All behind my back,
Is there something I lack?
And the cruel eyes that crush me!
What more of me can they see,
if nothing I have I can hide,
and nothing boring enough to let slide?
But if all the might in the world I did have,
I'd shout out loud with one quick jab,
"Stop the poo and cut the crap,
I'm not your average lonely sap!"
You Will ReturnI'm in the rain,
coughing and wheezing,
Yet I am waiting.
I try to keep a smile on,
for you might frown
on the sight of mine.
Yet I am waiting.
I see several stones nearby,
written on it are two dates and a dash.
Is this where people sleep,
just like you?
It is rather odd
to sleep underground,
but you told me to wait for you
and you will return.
I do not understand
Why it was written
on your stone,
"We will miss you."
I know I won't,
because you will return.
I will see your smile,
and you will see mine.
I'm in the rain,
with a smile and nothing else.
yet I am waiting.
Hitting the road-TG Caption
Danny pulled into Jackson's driveway. He shut off the car and opened the door. “I'll be right back, I'm going to go get him.” Danny said to Tyler who was sitting in the backseat eating a Twizzler.
“Alright,” he said munching on the red string. “Can you leave the radio on though?”
Danny put the key back into ignition and turned it to the radio setting.
“Yeah, I'll be back,”
Danny closed the door leaving Tyler in the car. Danny walked to the front door and knocked. He waited for a second then opened the door. “Mr. and Mrs. Styles, I'm here to pick up Jackson!!”
The living room TV was blaring the Spongebob theme song. Jackson's little sisters were sitting on the rug watching the intro. One of his sisters, Jenny, caught Danny walking in.
“Hey Danny!” She screamed.
Danny's other sister Jessica turned and joined in as well. “Hey Danny!”
Danny smiled and waved. “Hey Jessica and
Words in hugs and cuddles
Hey loved it when Donnie and he would cuddle. Yes they were older now, with Donnie being 11 and Mikey being 10. Yet somehow he still enjoyed the feelings he got when Donnie and he would huddle against each and cuddle. To feel Donnie’s arms around his shoulders holding him, shielding him, keeping him safe. It filled his chest with warm and happiness. It made him giggle and shift, trying to get Donnie to hold him tighter, while Donnie would giggle and do just that; wrapping his arms around his little brother even tighter.
“I like Donnie hugs.”
Behind him Donnie squeezed him a little tighter, while leaning in to nuzzle the side of his face. “and I like giving them to you.”
Again he giggled; this time from Donnie’s warm breath which tickled his neck and made him squirm. Making Donnie lean in and begin to tickle his sides.
Mikey squirmed, twisted and writhed. Doing his best to get away from h
yandere!Bertholdt x reader: Devil's spoke INTRO
By now, someone should have rousted you from bed and thrown you into training. The scratching of your nails on the mattress brought you out of your slumber. Softly groaning, you forced your eyes open and rubbed your face, everything around you still quiet. Your fingers tapped the headboard that sat against the wall, and your eyes scanned every detail of the bunk above you as your mind tried to wake up enough to consider leaving your sheets. The absolute silence reminded you that no one else could be awake. There were snores, peaceful sighs and tossing and turning. You almost missed the sound of heavy boots stomping down the hall at night, your father never practicing the art of not shaking the house as he walked. A rather obnoxious sound, really, but a sound at least.
At last there was a noise other than yourself. You heard the bed springs above you creak and you looked over to meet blue eyes. Annie, the girl that slept above you, was leaning over the side of her mattress; her upside d
Words In Anger (part 1)
It had been an accident. He hadn’t meant for it to happen. He’d just thought……..if he could help Donnie with his experiment then maybe Donnie wouldn’t be so stressed all the time. He’d tried to be careful, shuffling around Donnie’s lab picking up the loose papers and diagrams, doing his best to put the ones that seemed to go together in the same piles. He hadn’t even seen the viles of chemicals, hadn’t purposefully backed into them or knocked them over spilling their contents all over the floor.
“oh shit….oh shit….oh shit.”
He tried to clean the mess up, grabbing a rag to soak up the chemicals which had begun to smoke. As the rag soaked up the colored liquid it began to heat up, getting hotter and hotter until he found it had become too hot to hold. he dropped the rag cursing at himself as he blew on his burned hand.
He yelped in fear as the rag burst into flames, which began
words while sick
Mikey watched as in front of him Donnie coughed for a moment before letting out a gentle wheeze. “sorry……can't play……today.”
Mikey shook his head, “Downy be better.”
As he spoke he leaned over making sure the small blanket that was draped over his older brother covered as much of him as it could. Under the blankets Donnie smiled weakly. “I’ll…..be ok…… need rest.”
Behind him Mikey felt Leo and Raph shift, “we leave you now Donnie. Get better.”
Donnie nodded and closed his eyes, doing his best to draw in deep breaths but only succeeding in making himself cough more.
Mike felt his brother’s touch his shoulder, trying to get him to follow them out of the room. But he ignored them, shrugging off their touches as he moved in closer to Donnie. “help?”
Donnie opened an eye and looked at him. “m…Mikey?”
Mikey nodded, “how help?”
Donnie smiled wea
The Lives We Lead (CHAPTER 7.5)
Slowly Donnie woke, blinking as he slowly sat up. looking across the room he bit his lip. Raphael had shifted, he no longer lay under the covers and blankets but instead sat sitting on top of them. he’d pulled on his underwear and pants with his shirt slung over his shoulder, while he held his head in his hands. As Donnie watched Raph's sides shook slightly. “R….raph?” Donnie’s voice made Raph flinch slightly, yet still the red turtle turned a little to look at him with one eye. “oh……sorry…….I…….I didn’t mean to……….wake you.” Sitting up a little more Donnie made sure to keep the blankets around his chest and neck; there was no need to remind Raph of what had happened the night before. “raph……..are you…….ok?” he watched as Raph took another breath his sides shaking. “I………I……….” h
The Gatherer of TwigsThe flames don’t burn. They itch... as week old tattoos often do. A wildfire of orange and gold crawls from my ankle to my knee, my left leg engulfed forever. I’ve been branded by a demon, its soul sinking into my skin like enchanted ink.
This happens every time, I carry one mark for each soul I have reaped. My right forearm bears a feather from a Phoenix, there is a lone wing in blinding white that takes up half my back from the only Angel I've ever taken. Vibrant cerulean and jade scales swirl around my neck like a collar- those appeared after a pair of Selkies. A tangle of hissing snakes wrap around my left thigh thanks to a nasty, ancient Gorgon. I also have waves on my ass cheeks from a snarky Leviathan and a zombie Chihuahua dressed in pink on my left bicep from an even snarkier Hellhound.
I am a reaper, guiding the souls of only supernatural beings to the afterlife. I am not Death. I do not wear a hooded cloak or carry a scythe. Death is a cranky bastard and ri
To the Ends of the Earth 1Young Aniston was lying flat on his bed, contemplating what he has achieved from his birth up until now. He even thought how he was born, how he got out of that cramped hole that was of his mother's. He thought how he talks to himself without talking, so many questions, left unanswered.
He was bored; he needed something to cure his aggravating illness that was called boredom. He rolled left and right on his bed, he can't think of anything, either that- or he was thinking too much that he can't understand what he was thinking. He got confused, pressing his hands against his head, his head was aching.
He decided to go down, and get something to eat. 'Something, anything, this headache is killing me!' He thought as he went down the stairs, only to see an empty fridge, like a growling puppy, he was enraged, and screamed at his palms, he didn't have anything to scream at.
Aniston, enraged was forced to go out to the local store to buy some food, until he realized he didn't have s
Teenage TaoismGiving birth is the closest I’d ever felt to dying.
Before that, my near death experiences had consisted only of my silent announcement of pregnancy—silent, being that my social media accounts were all deleted almost simultaneously and I never returned to school in the fall, saying without really saying that I had caught the malicious disease of “teenage pregnancy”. I’m sure the whisper spread in the hallways like the Bubonic Plague. That September, sitting at home on what would have been the first day of my senior year, I imagined friends I’d never talk to again saying “she was only seventeen, and so full of life!” at my absence in the cafeteria tables, as if they were attending my funeral instead of talking about me behind my back.
"Full of life," I had snorted then, folding a never ending stream of what had once been my own baby clothes. "Literally."
I walked around like a zombie for the months of my pregnancy, deciding t
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