You wake up to the sounds of your heart beat-well not exactly, a machine beeping in time to your heart beat. You look around and see your hospital room everything is white but a single painting on the wall. You decided that you would just study the picture if you got bored later. You were about to focus on the picture when a nurse walked in seeing that
you're up. She smiled an apologetic smile somehow you could tell through the mask. “Hi James” she said with a voice sounding like she was crying or was about to. Your mind races as you look around desperately trying to find someone named James but no that was your name, your own forgotten name. She desperately tried to calm you repeating the words “it's oka...
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Another meal was sailing my way. I sang my enticing melody, hypnotizing them into the rocky depths where I roam.
However no sailors hurtled down the sea. Perhaps I am too far away? I swim up closer to the side of the wooden ship.
Instead of a dazed sailor, ropes toppled over me as if I was an ordinary salmon. They reeled me up, the rope scraping against
My body is flung onto the dock, the captain stands before me as several women of all ages surround her. No wonder my singing was powerless, sirens had the ability of only luring men sailors.
The captain was, least to say, gorgeous . Her black wavy hair cascaded down her back. I cross my arms over myself, bashful in front of these women....
I feel trapped in my own self
I feel lost in my own brain
I feel as if I am dusting on a shelf
I feel cold, as if I am locked out in the pouring rain
Why can’t I find a little HOPE to lift me up?
I feel as if I might have to jump
Why do I feel so fragile and broken?
Why can’t my heart just reopen?
Why do I block myself out?
I feel like
I can’t live without
Crying a little each day
I’m too weak to pull myself up and pray
In the name of God why am I drowning myself in my own negativity?
Why do I fill my heart up with hostility, why can’t I find a sense of responsibility, capability or even productivity?
Why can’t HOPE give me wings to fly away?
Why do I keep my thoughts...
Soft gravel crunches under my flats as I head to work Saturday morning. It is late in the morning; the perfect time of day when the birds sing and the sun warms the sky. Bells jingle above the door to signal my arrival to the small café I work at. Cindy, my boss (but mostly my friend) welcomes me with a toothy smile. She is an older lady, but has a
young personality that always reminds me of a toddler opening a new toy. "Good morning, Mae!", she says brightly, coming in to hug me.
"That it is," I say as I flash her my own toothy smile and return her hug.
"I thought I told you not to come in today!" Cindy exclaims with a small, teasing punch to my arm. "You've worked the past week without a day ...
2 days before,
As my tears went down my face, I felt the burn of where my father hit me. I wish I had a better father. My mother passed when I was 8 and ever since my father always made sure I was the perfect daughter. But without a mother & only dad it was tough because I was an only child. I had very few friends but my
best & well only friend Blake was bullied. We had similar lives as if we were sisters. But the difference between us was that Blake always got bullied for almost all her life but we always had each other.
That afternoon I went to Blake’s house. I went up to her room & when I walked in it was cold. I felt the breeze of the air on my skin. The room was dar...
I opened my eyes. I told myself that it was a dream. and it was. but it was also terrifying. my brothers voice kept repeating "hold my hope, hold my hope." I never did know what he meant by that. As I poured myself a glass of water, I thought about that horrid night. he had been acting strange. hopeless and sad. then, at 11 o'clock at night, he shook me to
wake me up. then he looked me in the eye and told me to hold his hope. he sounded upset. even though he scared me, and I didn't know what he meant, I said okay. and then he left. the next day, we found him murdered with a note from someone called the hope stealer....
I always liked to walking alone in the woods. It helped me connect with the nature. As always after the hectic day I went to the walk in the evening. The smell of the wet grass, the whistling of wind as it chased the leaves was enough to refresh any soul. As I covered nearly half way of my track I felt like someone or something was chasing me. I looked back
but it was nothing. Probably the after affect of the horror movie from last night. Thinking I should not watch these movies.. "Hey miss you... Yea you.. You dropped your snack behind.." What? I looked back with a shock. No one was there. Walking a few steps back. I saw the snack lying on the track. Near the snack was a small monkey staring at me with sparkl...
Nail art and nail care is a beautiful skill. Most of us would love to do nail art, nail design, nail colors like nail polish or gel polish, etc. Many people will love to do nail designs in very different ways. Some of us want to design or do art on nails, some of us want to do different types of colors on nails and some of the others want to do designs with
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There will be people who try different things every day and there will be some of us who have a certain nail style to keep. This nail art or nail coloring is a beautiful thing but it is also a little expensive even if we want to do simple na...
Every fiber in my body is falling apart, and I’m getting dizzy as the water starts to echo my lungs. I fight for air as thoughts race my unfaithful mind. “Will I make it?” My body starts to freeze and stiffin, and I wonder if I’m anywhere near the surface, but I wasn't. The water was no longer clear. Everything was black and quiet; I started to pray
in my head. “God please forgive me for my sins, for I have made many let this time of passing go with ease and let my famil-” I shut down, everything is blank, I think I’m dead.
My alarm goes off and as always I press snooze. Routinely, my mom comes in after my alarm goes off and wakes me up. I call her my second alarm, but her real name is Ashly. I...
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They/Them? How Gross...
They stood up to get a good look at their surroundings. They were stunned to see they were in an unknown room. Aries had to blink a few times to realize they were in Olivia’s room. They blushed realizing they had only been wearing a long shirt with some underwear. They looked over at the bed to see a sleeping Olivia. They didn’t
want to know what they had done. Olivia Seemed to have been reading their mind. “We just watched a movie and fell asleep. You decided to sleep in your underwear because you got hot.”. Aries breathed a sigh of relief. They were only 15 and didn’t want their relationship to go that fast. Olivia got up revealing she had only been wearing a training bra an...
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...
I’m Elizabeth (Lizzie), and on the surface I’m an average 8th grade school girl, but really that couldn’t be farther than true. I guess you could say I’m surrounded by crazy people and my boyfriend ,David, is no exception. “Lizzie.” A sturdy palm connects with my back. “Ah!” I gasp as my back tenses up. “Heh, you got me.” I sighed
relieved that it was only David. “You know it!” He exclaimed flirtatiously. “I-I don’t even know what to do with you…” I muster too far gone to even expect anything less from him. “Have you seen my search history?” He got me, using such a powerful move against me? How can I fight back?
More people fill the hall as I start my walk to the cafe...
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...