TheJokeress13

And that was that, I guess… The pills weren't working, and so there wasn't anything left to do except put that big old kitchen knife to her throat.  Or fly off the top of that big bank building downtown.  Or take then entire bottle of those lovely little pills that were supposed to make everything better. I slunk across the floor of the house, silent at three in the morning, and unmoving under the silver moonlight except for me, trudging along with the bottle of pills in my hands.  I laughed a little at the irony. These pills… this medication was supposed to make my life brighter and take away the depression and pain.  They hadn'

Master of Ravens 1 My little brother is nine years old the first time I decide to kill him. During the night, snow fell over the jagged wreckage of our land. In the morning I realize he will follow me outside if I call to him. Like an awkward-limbed colt he'll stumble through the snowdrifts, and I can leave him to the ice and wind in the shadow of a three-walled building. No one will see me. Our father will think he has gotten lost on his own. I too will cry when they find his body. When the mourning is done, however, I will be my father's true and only son. 'Cam,' he will call to me, and I'll kneel down before him. My father. Master of

"Do you fear death?" The question loomed in the air before my body, as if a sword looming over someone almost conquered by their enemy. But I looked down at my hands and then back up, only to say, "Have you ever felt the pain of watching two lovers embrace at the end of a movie? It's supposed to be a happy ending. But your heart tells your lungs to stop breathing for just a minute…because it will never ever be yours." "Do you fear death?" A question repeated deserves an answer. But instead, my trembling hands sat clenched on my lap, the blue ink like veins showing through the frail covering that might rip apart any second. "Do you kno

"You need to stop doing this." "Stop doing what?" "Writing me into your stories." "...why?" "Because…it scares me. I'm not this guy that you write about. I'm not some kind of Prince Charming and I'm certainly not a sea God or whatever you like to say about my eyes every now and then." "Oh really?" "Yeah. You really need to work on your judgement of people, because this is all wrong. It's like you don't know me at all!" "So why don't you correct me and I'll fix my idea of you accordingly." "Well…firstly, I'm a really nervous person." "Yeah. Your hands are either fiddling with your hair or your sleeve, or you're biting y

Fallen Angel Crawling in my forlorn appearance I hide my soul behind these tattered wings Tattered and broken as they are Plucked of light, stained in tears and blood. In quiet despair upon the cold earth Smeared in dirt I crouch upon my weary knees And clutched timidly between my fingers Rests one last jewel of Hope. A single unblemished plume plucked From the silver light of dawn A feathered ray of light from beyond To illuminate the void that has me bound. This precious barb of silk Once lost as I was and forgotten Blazes now to immerse me in radiant bliss To wash away the pain, draw me from the abyss. So now I fade away…

"I need a favour. You got a minute?" No. No I don't. My heart feels ripped out of my chest and trampled on too often. My ears open to screams in the morning. My eyes close crying every night. My mind always turns dreams into nightmares. My lungs contract too soon for me to catch my breath. My worries far outweigh my years. My brain feels overworked, overwrought, so tired. My stomach cramps every night and I curl up in pain. My knees weaken often but I'm still standing. My mouth goes dry and I can't speak. My hands dampen because I have too much to think about. My bones feel weaker than they ever have before. But I don't think it

"Hi, I'm-" "I know who you are." "You do?" "You're the guy who thinks he's invisible." "I have a name-" "It isn't important. Because you really don't think it's important." "All right. Since we've started out this way, let me just tell you, I know you too." "Yeah?" "You're the girl who is broken." "I am not broken." "You're the girl whose eyes close every night and open the next morning, only to find you have never slept at all." "I sleep well. Besides-" "You're the girl who dreams of a happy ending even though she has seen seventeen...no, eighteen unhappy ones in her eighteen years." "Happy endings are over rated. And you're-"