themindthatspeaks's Reading List
4 stories
To Dylan by happiIy
happiIy
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To Dylan: i just miss you. - A series of texts in which she experiences depression in the most vicarious way possible, and love is just the tune playing lowly in the background. - [Trigger Warnings for: Depression, Thoughts of Suicide, Self-Harm] [Dylan is a boy, and Anabelle is a girl, to clear things up]
The New Age by writers_
writers_
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She began her new life lying down, enclosed by the wilderness. The sun hiding over the horizon, with an ombre of red and orange around it as light raindrops slowly slipped off of the leaves from above. Prickly stems delicately swept across her cheek as the wind blew. She was asleep, eyes closed, and lightly breathing. The atmosphere gave her a chilling feeling in her bones that was deep, and full of resonance. Riley Dalor has just woken up in an unfamiliar place. One to which she has never been, will never want to be, and could have never dreamed of being anywhere near. The reason why has not been given, she cannot remember the night before, and one very crucial detail has been taken from her memory. Strange developments are taking place, the pieces are slowly meshing together, and she is on the verge of remembrance.This is the beginning to the end... ❝Welcome to The New Age.❞ Copyright ©2013 All Rights Reserved.
Sylvia Ruckett: Dead in Time by xinactiveaccountx
xinactiveaccountx
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Sylvia Ruckett was hurt badly, and dies when in treatment in the hospital. Follow the life of a person who is dead but lives in the world of the living still. Will she come back to life? Or be stuck in a time warp forever?
A Life Of poverty by themindthatspeaks
themindthatspeaks
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There was a body in a casket, Stiff and still, The man inside the casket had no pulse or never will, My mother stood by there for five whole minutes, She whispered theses words I will never forget, I will always love you, I knew she saw her life go away, He was her world that she just said goodbye, A room full of people who could care less, Along with the man and his famous index cards, We head outside to see a piece of wood that means more than words could, However his name is misspelled, Damn the man with his famous index cards with in hands reach, Here the man in the casket was once was the father of a girl who I no longer am, He is a father of a girl who always wears a smile not one who is on the verge of A mental brake-down, He is a father of another family, One with a mother who is the reason they came up with the word sunshine, The girl with the younger sister who she looks out for, Not a younger sister who looks out for the older one, His body is now in the ground that has a plank over the spot, A name that is not my fathers because the story has changed, A family with no father, A mother who they created the word deppesion for, A older sister who is a child at most, A girl who is stronger than both, This time his name read off Edggar Finch, A guy who I never knew, My father was named Edgar Finch they most of had the wrong name. See for yourself it's all a cruel joke, Until I remember the body I saw in the casket, They had the right person just the wrong name.