A thrumming pain. It begins in the back of my skull. I imagine a little bit above where my brain stem is located. It sort of announces it’s coming abruptly. A splat. If I had to give it texture, it would be wet, like when you squeeze a balloon filled with water. But it stays. The pain stays. The wetness stays.
Rather than trickling down, it floats up, expanding its form to now engulf the entirety of my skull. Pain changes with the expansion. The thrumming eases into a monotonous beat, and the acicular pain moulds into flattened sheet, dousing my head in a pleasant warm shower. if pain had fingers, I imagine, that’s what a head- rush would feel like. Fingers that stop...
Looking back at the past two years, I now see just how broken I’ve been. With Rosa being gone, there isn’t much I want to do anymore.
I have friends, I have a boyfriend, but it doesn’t seem real anymore. It’s like I’m acting, playing my role, repeating my lines.
My half-sister, Rosa was my best friend since the day she was
born. When I was a year old I don’t remember much, but I do remember feeling alone all the time. When Rosa was born, there are pictures of how beautiful and fragile she was. From that day on I held myself responsible to protect her from anything that would hurt her.
But at the beginning of Rosa’s freshman year, she went missing and a search party was s...
Sat perched upon his spot. His place. He thinks to himself, why? He doesn’t understand why his happened.
Did he do this? Did every step he take lead up to this? This isn’t my fault. He repeats this in his head.
Like a mantra. Over and over. Because he needs to remember the truth. His truth. He forgets a lot.
His mind tends to go from one thing to
another very fast. He didn’t see anything. Just heard the noise.
Who’s fault is this? He thinks. He must think harder. Go over the facts. Go through his memory of the actions leading unto this point. He has a small amount of time before they find him. He just wants to go over things in his head.
So when he does tell them he’ll say it in the right wa...
today i asked myself, why i am acting like i always do. things like making drama or overreacting. the first time i asked myself this question were months ago and i guess today i found the answer.
its midnight and i am thinking about my friends and how my relation to them ended.
i've always had a really good relationship with all of them. everybody
talked to me and i saw that i was important to them. i dont really know when but one day i started realizing that maybe everything has changed without me noticing it.
i saw that i wasnt the good friend anymore but a good friend. there is a big difference between them. i used to get asked to go out or they asked me for advices and some things like that and no...
As we all know that, in today society these are the prime and main factors to maintain the pride, honour and show-off. People name it status and all.The society perhaps respect the people with high honour. Some people show-off their status and however some don't. well, the main point I want to attract the attention of all readers towards like
Yes, Love-marriage! As among readers parents and childrens are there so it will definitely be helpful for both type of people.
Well, basically nobody either girl or boy don't want to leave their family and run for a marriage only.
But as soon as family get to know about that their childrens likes some other person, they basically make their thought about ...
No coffee at home, stacks of paperwork in the office and no coffee there either. Bakery across getting closed, getting splashed while waiting for the traffic light on the way from said bakery... And now this. Betrayed by a milkshake. Jason couldn't even tell the girl behind the counter that the pink abnormality wasn't his order
- she looked so haggard, almost pushing the cup in his hands and hurrying off to serve another customer, he didn't have a heart to tell her off.
So here he was now, sitting in his car outside Charlotte's, flashing pink and turquoise neon lights irritating his eyes, strawberry milkshake in one hand and his phone in another. The digital clock on the dashbo...
It was way too hot for this. Despite it being night, it was still around 75 degrees outside. It made Madeline, who was used to the chilled nights of the upper US, uncomfortable. She was staked out by the corner of a jewelry store name Bronners', from the looks of its old timey interior and small size compared to traditional stores was family run. Which
mean't that with this heist, someone's livelihood was going to be damaged. It left a sour taste in her mouth. She never liked hitting family businesses. It felt too personal, too cruel.
But Anderson, her handler, didn't care.
On a small memo pad, she wrote down points of interest.
How the front door didn't shut completely. Their opening and closing hours, in...
Cars of varying quality line the parking lot, with the rich and the poor walking alongside. Many take seat in used vehicles, cars that have existed for over a decade and run on pure luck. The bumper remains attached by only a sliver of duct tape, and when started, the rattling can be heard for what seems like miles. Next to it, however, is a vehicle sleek
in design, a model from at most three years ago with a shine that glows like a television commercial. There is barely a scratch of its surface. A man takes a seat, but he and the car seem to come from opposite worlds. This man, he lives five blocks down in a tattered apartment building that has been set for demolition for many months now. The soles of his s...
“This is tedious,” complained Tebogo to his father as they drove through the reserve, “Why do we have to be here?”. Tebogo already knew about his father’s job, but he was hoping for a more specific answer. His father, Dr. Zander Adams, was the top biology professor at the University of Cape Town and had gone into the field to collect data for a
Once Tebogo was done, Zander replied, “I know you’d rather be back home with your friends, but your mother and I didn’t name you ‘resentful’. I thought that this would be a good opportunity for you since you’ve never been to Kruger before. I would say that you should take this time to look around since you might never see anything like this ...
The neighborhood rarely gathered, except for weddings and funerals. I stood in the back, four feet tall in a white dress and new white socks. Some people stared at me, then, when they caught me looking back, turned away to whisper among themselves. They wore black, as is traditional at a funeral. But Mama did not like black. She said so after Papa was
In the middle of the room, two easels covered in flowers flanked the sides of a long table. Mama’s picture was hastily pasted in the smaller structure. A man’s picture decorated the bigger one. He was not my Papa. Papa died in Yugoslavia, when the communists captured him and his friends two years ago. Mama escaped with me to the United States. She pro...
I tried not to look at any of my patients as if they were crazy, but this guy actually scared me. It was like he was in my head. I've dealt with an array of people with many different disorders, but he was the first to get to me.
He gazed lifelessly into my eyes. He wouldn't look away when he talked to me. Usually, when someone looks in your eyes, its
comforting, bonding. Not him. He was terrifying.
"You don't like me." he said.
"That isn't true." I lied. "I just need to figure out what kind of help you need, and you're a bit hard to read."
"You're lying." he said with a tight smile.
A chill went down my spine. I've never dealt with someone like him before. It was like the devil himself was sitt...
She sipped it slowly. It tasted bittersweet, like all the memories she could recall. She knew she would be alright after this though. It was all part of the good Lords great plan. At lease that's what they told her in church.
Her heart was a block of cement hanging by a chain in her chest, swaying slowly, turning, threatening to drop at any moment. When it
did, she knew it would be hell. That was the part she was trying to outrun.
She didn't know what was in this drink and she didn't care. It might kill her, but she was okay with that. She didn't care much about anything anymore. These people could poison her, boil her alive, or make a slave of her if they wanted to. She wouldn't fight them. She was too tire...
The brother took his sister's hand and said to her,
"Since our mother died we have had no good days; our stepmother beats us every day, and if we go near her she kicks us away; we have nothing to eat but hard crusts of bread left over; the dog under the table fares better; he gets a good piece every now and then. If our mother only knew, how she would
pity us! Come, let us go together out into the wide world!"
So they went, and journeyed the whole day through fields and meadows and stony places, and if it rained the sister said,
"The skies and we are weeping together."
In the evening they came to a great wood, and they were so weary with hunger and their long journey, that they climbed up into a hig...
Delia blinks her eyes repeatedly, in an attempt to adjust her vision to the room. Suddenly, she becomes severely aware of a splitting headache, and a sore arm. She attempts to rub the pain off the fleshy part of her shoulder, which feels bruised and tender. Her long dark hair is matted and damp, sticking to her neck and cheeks. She grasps her hair band she
always keeps on her wrist, and pulls the strands of hair away from her face and up off her shoulders, twisting it into a loose bun. She looks around trying to figure out where she is. Her heart rate increases as she realizes she doesn't know, where she is or how she got here.
Before she found her self here, she was walking home from school, after a long day...