Traverse the Slate - Traverse the Slate - Wattpad

Story cover for Traverse the Slate by TraverseSlate

Traverse the Slate

Reads 3
Votes 0
Parts 1
Time 24m

Reads 3
Votes 0
Parts 1
Time 24m

childtrafficing scify spiritual

I am alone in my temple of one. Traversing planet-side, Paal carried me here, saving my life. We now live on Gandelaria, a beautiful planet with an empty religion in a black-slated temple village. Assimilating into this ritualistic community hasn't been easy for me, but Paal is at peace. He understands how important this place is to us. I am still ig'dan pissy as ever and still waking every morning shaking off the nightmares of yesterday. 
What if I never find myself again, forever lost to a darkness as black as the slate paths I walk daily? I've been told to write it all down, that it will be good for my soul. Nothing as exciting as a Pigerian pod-cast, but here it is. 
Feel free to traverse the slate with me. 
Or not.All Rights Reserved

childtrafficing scify spiritual

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Traverse the Slate
Sun, Oct 20, 2013

1 part

Traverse the Slate
Sun, Oct 20, 2013

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Pinwheels and Dandelions by cjacks1124

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Slide 1 of 8

Pinwheels and Dandelions cover

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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.