Anchor
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- Partes 2
I'm Melody Ponds and I'm submerged in water. I don't remember how I got here. All my struggles piled up into a huge mass of water, and now I'm drowning in them. My family, friends, and future were things that I saw as the good things in life that kept me breathing. But now they have all turned to water and added to the ocean I am drowning in. This is the story of how I reach the surface (if I ever do).
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lost souls: rain, stars, and iced coffee
Does anyone remember how anything begins? Or how anything ends? For every story, every song, every movie has a beginning to an end and an end to a beginning, but what about the rest? What about prior to the beginning or after the end, and everything in between? No one cares about that, I guess. Everyone just wants to know how what begins and how what ends; the rest is history. The rest is nothing and everything at the same time, because those who want to see, want to feel, breathe in it all--they are the lost souls in the world. They are lost, searching, needing, and craving souls. They are you and they are me. Lost in this world of collateral damage, hoping to be rescued. Searching for what can rescue them, whether that be a person or a drug or a hobby. Needing whatever it is soon because they have drowned and they are six feet under, floating in alcohol and seizing due to heroin and crying because of a him or a her. And craving--craving to die and to live all at once, for they know life is a beautiful disaster and they know about the good and the evil in this world; it has hurt them, numbed them, and misplaced them. But maybe, all they need to do--what every one of us needs to do--is stop whatever it is we're doing. Stop searching. Stop needing. Stop craving. And be. Just be. warning: a majority of this work will be in lower case on purposeConcluida
¿How far are you willing to go? {Book 4} (Old Version) Being renewed
A body swam above me as he moved toward me, oh for heaven sakes! Even stuck in a bottom of the pool I had the disgrace to be saved by him again? What was he even doing here in the first place? Was he stalking me or something? Oh God, I had a stalker like in the movies. He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me up but my body didn't move an inch. I pushed him away from me and shook his shoulders as I pointed down at my stuck foot. He swam down and tried to unhook the bracelet but he couldn't. He pushed himself up and I thought that he had given up on me. I thought he was a rapist, now that I blew his cover it was a perfect way to get rid of me. I'm going to save myself, I don't need him anyways. I hovered and struggled to get it out. How did this even happen? I was pushed as jerk face returned, my head leaned back as he swam toward me and sneaked his arms around my waist to bring me forward. He plastered our mouths together to give me mouth to mouth breathing and the bracelet suddenly unhooked by itself. The fuck the ancestors think they're doing?Concluida
Save Me
I was drowning. I knew that. I also knew that the hands around my throat, pushing me deeper into the river water was the cause. What I didn't know was who was drowning me and why. It hurt thinking. It hurt to do anything right now. But I still screamed under the cold water and pushed the hands away as hard as I could. It didn't have much effect. I fought and fought, but I was getting weaker, and colder. The pain was overbearing. I couldn't breathe. It was the worst pain imaginable; and as the hands that were around my neck were forcibly ripped off by some unknown force, I slipped deeper into the depths of the river. My hair was straight above me along with my arms. My eyes were open and the water burned. A darkness started to pull me under, taking the pain away. I felt a small pressure around my waist, before the darkness completely consumed me. The last thing I remember is thinking, save me.Concluida
Fearless
Shit. I hopped on my bike and I started it and I drove off. As I was zooming down the street I saw a wolf in the middle of the road I was going to fast I pressed on my breaks but I wasn't going to stop in time so I swerved off the road. I moved the bike off of me, the wolf slowly came up to me. I thought I was going to die, but I didn't instead it bit my side I screams once it's teeth synced through my skin. What was worse then it stopped I felt his teeth slowly pull out he then ran off I cried in pain I heard my phone go off but I couldn't move nor answer everything was blurred I saw figures through my helmet. I heard cars stopped I saw someone standing over me. He lifted me to sit up but I screamed and cried in pain. He looked at my side and saw the bit then everything went black.Concluida
When You Fall in Love with Your Enemy
When I was jumped off the bridge I thought of a moment which made me re-think my decision. But its too late. I was dying. Drowning. Struggling. Then his hand came up to me. He pulled me towards him. I was held up in his arms. He shook me to see if i can open my eyes. But all i can sense is his warmth. Who is he? Why is he saving me? Why is his touch feels so good?
Pinwheels and Dandelions
I was kicked around like trash on the streets. I was the book that nobody could understand or read, but without a care, they were quick to rip out the pages. I screamed for attention, but time after time, I was ignored. Nobody noticed me, so I made myself at home in my own shadow. They say there's light at the end of the tunnel -- I searched and searched for it, but it could never be found. Therefore, I lost hope as I hid in the shade and endured what seemed like everlasting pain. The little hope I did have was snatched from my arms. My baby brother was my life, and they took my glimpse of hope away. Home. Is that a word? Maybe for a family of some kind, but for me, I never had a place to call home. I moved from place to place. Unstable foster care, fighting for my life in group homes, barely surviving in detention centers, and running away from being mistreated as I made many benches my temporary home. The only thing that I was familiar with was a black plastic bag containing my dirty rags. I am too young to know what it feels like to survive. These are the cards life has dealt me and I am not meant to win; however, I easily lose without trying. It is hard for me to find peace. I am paying for my mother's reckless actions. I am trapped in a world where the sun has died because I am unable to feel love. I am unable to dream. Sorrow is my aura, and the sadness hugs me. My eyes are closed shut by the barbed wire fence from my eyelashes as they prohibit tears from falling. I am damaged. When will the morning come? Did the sun put up a fight last night, like I do every single day? If I can survive the day, I know the sun isn't dead. One day, I will awake to a glorious sunrise. Until then, I hope my brother keeps blowing his pinwheel, and I will keep making wishes with every dandelion I come across. For now, all I know is that everything was taken from me, and the only thing I own is my name.Concluida
Fatal Attraction: Falling into a Cruel love (Boyxboy)
Why did he kidnap me? This happened 3 months ago. Many times I have tried to escape the clutches of his rough hands. Many times I have cried for help. But I need to get stronger in order to escape from him. Now, three months later, I think about this, but now my feelings are different. I wanted to kill him, to make him suffer the way he made me suffer. "Do it, kill him!" Is what I'm thinking. "Kill him and it will be over. I will be able to escape." The mask that was hiding his identity looks at me as I hold the knife to his throat. The whole time I been wondering why I didn't just slit his throat. He told me to do it, to finish him but I couldn't, I just couldn't. I couldn't hate him for the times he whipped me or raped me. I just couldn't. I looked at him holding the knife to his throat with a shaky hand. No matter how hard I try I can't hate him. No matter how hard I try I can't get the knife to slice Reidson's throat. Dropping the knife on the floor I look at his face. I couldn't see his eyes because of the white mask. Now the same hands that used to be so rough became soft and warm. He still beats and rapes me but I figured out why I didn't hate him for making me suffer like this with these same hands that hurt me so cruelly are now touching my face gently. I held his hand to my chest as I look at his masked face. His hand is stained with blood. My blood. I look at his face, I have fallen into a cruel love.Concluida
When our eyes met
"As I looked up, my eyes met someone else's. He had curly copper brown hair that fell on his forehead and a chiseled jaw but I wasn't too concerned about his physical attributes. What really stuck out to me was his hazel eyes. I felt my pupils dilate as I slowly melted in his eyes. I felt safe in the comfort of his gaze. Why do I feel safe? The room faded away. It was just the two of us. Why does he have this effect on me? His eyes looked sympathetic. Why is he sympathetic? What are my eyes telling him? I felt a warm sensation flow through my body as my breaths became deeper. I didn't care about any of what happened before and I didn't care about anyone else. I just wanted to stay in this moment, with him, forever."Concluida
Does anyone remember how anything begins? Or how anything ends? For every story, every song, every movie has a beginning to an end and an end to a beginning, but what about the rest? What about prior to the beginning or after the end, and everything in between? No one cares about that, I guess. Everyone just wants to know how what begins and how what ends; the rest is history. The rest is nothing and everything at the same time, because those who want to see, want to feel, breathe in it all--they are the lost souls in the world. They are lost, searching, needing, and craving souls. They are you and they are me. Lost in this world of collateral damage, hoping to be rescued. Searching for what can rescue them, whether that be a person or a drug or a hobby. Needing whatever it is soon because they have drowned and they are six feet under, floating in alcohol and seizing due to heroin and crying because of a him or a her. And craving--craving to die and to live all at once, for they know life is a beautiful disaster and they know about the good and the evil in this world; it has hurt them, numbed them, and misplaced them. But maybe, all they need to do--what every one of us needs to do--is stop whatever it is we're doing. Stop searching. Stop needing. Stop craving. And be. Just be. warning: a majority of this work will be in lower case on purpose
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