DISCLAIMER
> The whole fanfiction is written in Stone's P.O.V.
> Slight violence will be mentioned.
> Please be mindful.
> No smut.
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...
Words,
you learn from them. You develop from them.
There are two types of words; healing, they are the rustling whispers of this town's mystique nature. So serene, it makes the abyss inside me ravish a starlit collision of feelings once I hear the gentle song of healing words. They are caught dancing within the rhythm, so fierce.
It will make you lost in reverie.
Ramshackle's not that mystique—despite the chaos, I can only manage if I have them both at my side.
Hurtful, I don't think this needs further eleborating. But, It's a carafe of venom poured through the pores of your skin by the person you love, like your own blood.
Except, I don't like my blood. And I don't love anyone at the moment. This explains that I've never actually heard hurtful words. I suppose. Such a risible syllogism. Some words are sparkling with elegance, and some words make us dimwit.
Nevertheless, a combination of pretty and stupid is stupidly pretty.
...
Noon. I just woke up. My eyes are burning, and my whole body is aching. My throat is also dry as desert sand.
"Gooooood morning, Sto - Maggot, you look like shit." Vinnie squinted her eyes in disgust. I can see she's carrying... It feels like stolen beans and a sack piled with coins. I don't even bother to question. She always does that shit, planning schemes 'till dawn.
This is fine. She does her own thing. At least I never was almost aborted. I gave her a glare and a yawn. Until I notice, "Mhm, where's Skipp ?"
"Right! I, uh, tagged him along earlier to get these goodies, but I don't know where he is right now." she said, leaning against the brick.
"Noted, he's probably -"
"Hey guys!" The boy full of giddiness greeted askew, his hands embracing sticks, stones, and...papers. Old papers. It's funny to think that Skipp's the oldest, yet the shortest.
"Stone! Oh dear, all that drinking and smoking did cause you to have this awful hangover, huh?" Skipp placed all he collected in his silly quest on a corner. He wasn't wrong, though. I did drink a shitload last night.
Vinne rolls her eyes, "He literally got a whole collection of empty bottles."
"And It's even creating a... pyramid-like structure." Skipp fixed his gaze at my crafted alcohol bottle pyramid. It's basically just my empty bottles shaped in a pyramid. "That's so cool, Stone!" He took one of my bottles and spun it around like he was in a stupid fight scene, which earned a laugh from Vinnie.
"Whatever you say. Still looks sick. No one can change my mind." Skipp ruffled my bird nest-like hair, and then both of them proceeded to mind their own businesses, starting their usual leaden day. I slumped down to the cold ground and sighed.
Perhaps with an unfolded odyssey of fresh baked crime, I expect this day to be just like the day before. And the day before. Even so, a week before.
A year is too far. I've been a part of their 'gang' for just months, lining up like the quatrains of a Shakespearean sonnet. I made myself a scrap. My life's worth is better here. Belongingness was what I felt. Although, we're just things the society doesn't hand a wisp of care about.
Today's not gonna be that special, for every day is special with Skipp and Vinnie. Just once more, a gloomy day in typical old Ramshackle. Everyday greeted by bittersweet hangover.
...
-end of chapter-
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Fanfiction!! These characters aren't mine-the creator of Ramshackle is Zeddyzi ! This is just a fanfiction !! Stone regains his interest in poetry. (SkippingStone Fanfic !!) Word count: ≈ 21,000 Stone began to explore the complexity of words. Does it grasp lo...
