[i [center [font "Bookman old Style" It should be a contridicition that our finite minds hold an infinite amount of possibilities hidden deep away within the abyss. Though men are mere mortals, they possess the ability to create, destroy, rebuild, and deconstruct universes. You’re mind is a sea, a sea of infinite possibilities. Worlds are birthed, grown, decayed, and killed off all at the whim of he who holds the pen. Don’t believe me?] ] ]
[center [font "Bookman old style" The come! Let me show you the which to break through your mortal form and become immortal! Plunge deep into the sea, submerge yourself within your thoughts, within your minds, and unlock the secrets of this universe. Come, and let us explore..] ]
testing one to three four
He was a soldier, or at least he was trying to be. For the next thirteenth weeks it would be pure hell.
[i Well at least that line is true.] I though as I carried his ruck on his back slump over.
"Watch out, mortar fire!" His kill hat shouted as everyone ran to the nearest make-shift ditched and covered their head. "This is madness, there's no way in hell did can anyone do this." he stated as he burst into tears, this was the seventh person in the spend of thirteen hours. "Well what are you going to do quit! I always knew that you never had it in you, complaining and wating to quit, Leave now!" The sargent barked as I swiftly placed a hand on his shoulder. "Buckle up! We are almost done! This is the crucible!" I reminded him.
The crucible. It doesn't matter what you've done up until then, it always separated the men from Marines, 50 hours if shear hell and no one but your company to keep you motivated.
"Mortar fire is gone, treat to your wounded and get the hell out of here!" he barked as me and four other people began making splits and make-shift streatchers from sticks and sleeping bags for whatever we could find on the field. Hell on earth, and I wanted to be a Marine..
I am sure we've walked over fifteen miles but still the end was no where to be seen, My friend shaking hard, I couldn't tell if it was because he was scared, from the lack of food, or cause the wind chilled our bones, probably the combination of the three. [b "MASK MASK MASK!"] The kill hat shouted as everyone instantly dropped onto one knee and pulled out their mask. nine seconds was the deadline to dawn the mask, nine seconds isn't a long time. Right as I tighten my bottom strap and checked my seals a cloud of white tear gas rolled down into the valley.. a fog of death. Slowly we marched on as we coughed and wheezed our way to the top of the hill. The accent to heaven. Looking to my left and right, the people that I've been through he'll and back was dropping to there knees, begging for it to be over. no more energy to continue going but a shout came out from behind me. "
Don't give up, we are ascending the stair case to heaven, after this, it's all down hill!" We all turned around and saw it was a private no older than nineteen freash out of high school. Everyone looked and grin. Somewhere someone shouted a cadence to keep the people motivated. "Drive on first platoon, drive one first platoon, someday you'll be all alone, way out there in the combat zone, bullets flying every where better keep your head to the ground. Don't worry about being alone, second platoon will take you home. Drive on second platoon..." as they repeated another two times until it ended with ..."Don't you worry about being alone, all your buddies will take you home." With new strength and resolve, everyone tackled the last two miles of Hell together and on the horizon... the parade field.
I was one of the first group of people who made it to the fields lined up and proud. thirteen weeks of shear Hell and nothing that any ordinary citizen can said that they did. As our sargent walked in front of me. I held out my hand and he gave me a plastic pin... but the most important pin in my life. An eagle, globe, and anchor. I was now one of them.. I was a Marine..
[b Next proompt Rebirth]
[center [pic http://gacha.nosdn.127.net/d17e176973eb428ca8e7e779ea6672b4.jpg?imageView&thumbnail=350x350&type=jpg&quality=100]]
[center [b [size32 WELCOME TO YOUR NEW HOME!]]]
A big banner was placed across my new living room to commemorate such a big jump for an adult like me; I finally have [i my own house.]
It seems so surreal I almost forget that it's been many years in the making for this grand moment to happen.
Of course, the last few years haven't really been the best for me.
Work was hectic--I felt like I had no life to live. Friends that wanted to hang out or to just see me can't even see me because I was so engrossed with work. It hurt a lot of friendships, but like they say, people come and go, but friends stay.
The family was going through some ups and downs and being so close, yet so far away from home meant that all I could do was offer help through the phone. Sometimes, not even anything at all. Mom and Dad were on the brink of getting a divorce and my youngest brother was just starting sophomore in high school. Sure most of us have grown up, but no one deserves to experience divorce. Not even those children whose parents are.
I shake my head to throw away those thoughts. What was I thinking? I'm at my housewarming party and I'm not really being a good host. [i "Just an hour or so and they'll be gone."] is now my thought.
Liveliness fades, people slowly go home and I have this new house all to myself. I walk up the stairs to see the room I'll be sleeping in when my view is directed by an unopened box situated on the vacant space on the floor. It seemed off place since the room was all set up already, but something tells me I put it there for a reason. I walk to it and slowly open the box to see its contents.
It's a bunch of pictures. A picture of me and a girl. We're both smiling and wearing togas. Must be a graduation photo. I put it at the back to see the next one.
It's me and that girl again. Now we're at a restaurant and eating something--fast food maybe? We weren't looking at the camera because our eyes were so transfixed at each other. You could see a lot of emotion in those eyes. Not only mines, but this girl's too.
The next one was a photo of me and this girl again, now her hand was next to her face and she had a surprised look on it, while I was just smiling from ear to ear. There was a ring on her finger.
A wedding photo. God, she looked so beautiful, this girl. Her wedding dress was beautiful, silky and flowing. I remember how soft they were to the touch. That's right. Just like her face.
Then a photo at the hospital. It was me and her, still smiling and looking happy, but we seemed tired. I wasn't on the bed, but she was. She had a bandage on her head, which probably meant she lost all her hair. Why was that?
Another photo. It was night time. All I could see was a silhouette of a man and a girl, who I think was still me and her, but all the focus was just our arms stretched out, holding on to dear life.
The last one was a gravestone. It read, 'Herein lies the most beautiful girl I have ever laid my eyes on. She will always be in my heart. Always and forever.'
I was still in my new home, but just like that and with tears in my eyes, my dream-stated body snapped back into reality.
Next Prompt: Don't give up. It will all work out in the end.
I looked up at the man as the flames engulfed my home. Power was all I asked for. Just something for me to save my family. My arms began to pulse like flowing lava from the earth. The man spoke as a look of regret appeared on his face " Everything comes with a price" It seemed he had uttered these words before. I rushed to the house as flames began to swirl around me and engulf me. Within seconds the flames were out. My arms felt as if the sun itself was burning them. I had done it my family was safe and sound. In the back of my mind I could still hear the words from the man [red Everything comes with a price]. What did he mean?
We stayed at a motel down the road that night. Morning came and i had woken up with a jolt. The mans word still played in my head like a skipping record. I looked around with half open eyes. A slight knock came at the door. I stood up and looked around again. The room was empty. I answered the door. No one but a note that was taped to the door.
[blue You wanted power to save the family that you loved. I gave you that out of sympathy and because i had given you that power a debt had to be paid and destiny had to be set. Everything comes with a price and the price for your power was the one thing you loved the most. I'm sorry, but i had to take your family.]
I fell to the floor as i kept re-reading the letter over and over again. Tears filled my eyes as reality set in. I did everything to save them only to fail in the end.
Next Prompt: Dreams and Reality
I cupped the handful of colorful pills; my hands were trembling so badly… Sprawled out across the kitchen floor were pictures of happy couples.. A man and a woman. Yet that happiness was a facade. Inside’s always a stark contrast to the outside world.. I know this too well. Picking one pill up, I murmured. “Anxiety..” Another pill “depression” another on and another one.. An assorted amount of medicine meant to cure the incurable.. Outside I’ve always put on the pristine picture of a woman of confidence.. Yet, inside I was breaking.. Being held to the absolutely standard of perfection broke me down.. Tired me out.. It wasn’t anyone’s fault.. Saved mine for being so naive..
Once people get accustomed to the lie never knowing the truth, they expect that. The retelling of the lie because who’d ever believe that she’s abnormal? That beyond the happy relationships, the wonderful job, the beautiful parents, and nice house, a raging storm of uncontrollable emotions raged like a hurricane inside of her? No-one. Absolutely no-one..
Picking up another pill, I whispered ‘Bipolar’ before breaking down. I can’t remember the last time I let the tears far.. And the pills spill out of my hand. No one’s there to comfort me.. Or bare witness to who I truly am.. And i’m just tempted to end the show.. The movie of my life, and swallow all the prescriptions that had been prescribed to just greet death with a blissful smile..
I wonder what they’d put on my obituary, some bullshit phrase like [i She always shone so bright, it sometimes hurt to look at her..] Father had a knack for posting some cheesy shit.. And I laugh.. As morbid as it sounds, I do..
Maybe.. One by one, I can slip through the cracks of my perfect exterior and show them truth.. And for those who didn’t like it, screw them.. I’m not here to make them happy. Not anymore..
[center [b Prompt; Love lost..] ]
[center Free Write]
It was cold outside.
Every exhale of breath was made visible to the pale green doe like eyes of its creator.
Long dark feminine eyelashes connected to eyelids glittering gently to the light of the stars twinkling in the sky. A step into the streetlight illuminated her beauty for a few short seconds before the darkness engulfed it once again hiding what the normal eyes would struggle to see from a distance. The girl walked at a speed too fast for leisure but too slow for a hurry, it was an unsure tempo playing along the surface of concrete beneath her, creating an unpredictable pattern that all too much reflected her life style.
She was the wind before, during and after a hurricane. A wind of gentle caresses and ignored warnings before the storm approached and swept everything away in a violent torrent, only to cease leaving an echo of relief and uncertainty in the breeze of the morning after.
No place was a home to her, every stop a rest in the long directionless journey ahead of her.
A life of a restless traveler, no home, no family, no obligations. It was curse disguised as a blessing.
[i “Wow! You’ve been all over the place, that’s amazing!”]
[i “That’s quite the story, yeah… I’d love to travel, see the world, but it’s just not an option when you gotta take care of the wife and kids! Haha, I envy you little lady.”]
[i “Make sure you go visit Australia for me! By the time you’re there I’ll probably be in my first college class, one step to becoming a doctor! I’m so excited.”]
[i “Always on the move? I’m sure other people are jealous of you, but I kind of like having a routine and a place I can come back to. Not that I’d care to admit it.”]
Her tempo slowed as she paused standing above a large lake, the cold metal of the railing tingling against her warm skin as she leaned on it looking up to the night sky where the moon sat in its usual spot casting a soft cool glow upon her. Thoughts of the handsome boy swirling in her head as his voice echoed deep within her, he had been unimpressed with her travel stories, challenged her freedom instead of envying it, and had called her lonely. Cowardly.
A chuckle pierced the silent night as it grew into laughter, her fingers tightened around the metal railing as she laughed through the swirling emotions that caused tears to stream down her face and make her heart pound away in her chest. Through the tears the stars twinkled in a way that made them seem like they too were laughing with her.
Minutes turned into hours as she stood from her seated place on the wood bench near the lake water. The sun had begun to finally rise as the last of twinkling stars bid their goodbye to be replaced with a spectrum of warm colors stretching against the horizon. Brushing off her pants she closed her eyes and turned her back to the rising sun taking a deep breath as she breathed out.
[b “Where to next?”] she murmured into the new day of her unpredictable future.
[b Next Prompt:] “(S)He was always shinning so brightly it sometimes hurt to look at her/him.”
/ 4y 156d 23h 9m 36s
She'd all ways say sorry
It was all ways a reflex for her. When we where kids she would say sorry all the time for her mistakes. Like the one time she broke the lamp with a base ball. When we got into middle school she would say sorry because of the stupidest things. Like the time she spilled food all over a kid. When we where in high school she all ways said sorry when she went out with her boy friend...when she became an adult she would all ways say sorry about dropping her kids off on me. She was a single mom any ways. When she became middle age she would say sorry a lot because she couldn't make time for us over work...when she got hit by that car she would all ways say sorry for being a bad wife and mother...for not giving enough...her last words where sorry. After a few years of crap and life taking my job, the kids, and my home I just walked for a while untill I reached the top of a building..." I'm sorry" then I jumped.
Next prompt anime!
[center [pic http://i.imgur.com/4eteEJ9.png]]
[center [font "Minion Pro" [size17 [b [u New Sensation]]]
[size12 I tried to live my life as perfectly as any other human could. Go to school, get a job, stumble and then pick yourself up again. I went through the process with a degree in computer science and landed myself in the confinements of an office cubicle for three years. I wouldn't say I was happy with it, but it payed the bills and kept me alive. That's the thing about society, as long as we pay bills and stay alive.. we should be content. The only problem is I wasn't content. I wasn't content with the control society had over me, It all felt like it was not mine, as if taken from another man's biography. I wasn't living life to its fullest - it was looping over and over in monotonous circles.
I had enough. After another drag-on day of typing and answering phone calls, I decided to take the long way home. I'm not sure why I did it, maybe I wanted to see if my daughter would get home before me and clean that mess in the kitchen so I wouldn't have to. Maybe something deeper than my forward thoughts wanted change.
That was when I met her. She was sitting at the bus stop just a block from my house Her hair was a cascade of yellow tumbling down passed her shoulders, dressed in a silky black dress that hugged her curves in a way that would make any woman feel inferior in her presence. I slowed my pace when I saw her, I honestly wasn't sure how to exist around a woman so breath taking. I fixed my tattered black jacket, straightened up, puffed out my chest a little and dived right in. I planned on just walking by, really, but something drew me to her. Some sensation that I couldn't resist. Instead, I sat on the opposite side of the bench and waited for the bus as well.
We started dating. It's weird how that stuff happens. My repetitive life seemed to change and slowly but surely I did as well. What used to be me walking in circles turned into a maze, and it was the most interesting maze I ever did walk. I had a bubbling feeling of delight bursting from my chest and shaping my expressions. A new sensation I couldn't describe for the life of me. Her name was Amelia, and she got along with my daughter in ways I probably never would. The only problem, if you could even call it that, was one thing she said on our first date.
"I'll never let anyone see me naked."
I laughed at first, thinking it was a joke. It was a strange thing to say on a first date, wasn't it? She was dead serious though so I shrugged it off. Honestly I didn't mind that one fact since all the amazing qualities she possessed outshines it so vibrantly. Maybe she had some scars from her past that she didn't want anyone seeing, or maybe she was simply self conscious. Either way Amelia was funny, witty, and an all-round amazing person. It had to be love.
My daughters name was Cindy. She was thirteen years old and always had a bright smile on her face. Especially when Amelia was around. Those two would often go out shopping together or to a movie leaving me stuck home alone. I didn't mind though, Cindy grew up without a mother and having Amelia with her would do nothing but good. I still remember the day she came home with a big bag of clothes, bragging about how Amelia picked them all out for her and she couldn't wait to show them off on Monday.
But Monday never came for Cindy. She died on Saturday.
I found her in her bedroom, her face bleeding from every scratch that had manifested itself. Up her arms as well, scratched and chunks of flesh missing like some wild animal had attacked her. I cradled her in my arms, her head on my lap as the blood soaked into my pants. I could just think about how I was going to wash my jeans. It sounds horrid, I know - but a loss like that tears everything away from you and leave you with only the bare thought process that makes us human.
The funeral was worse. Everyone wanted to tell me about Cindy, and how perfect she was - what an angel she was, as if I didn't know. As if I didn't realize what a gift my own daughter was. Condolences passed around like candy, and Amelia was there through it all. She really missed Cindy too.
After that, I began to miss that new sensation. The overwhelming feeling inside my chest, blooming in the darkest parts of my soul like a flower in the dawn. It took me years to completely recover, if you could ever actually recover from the death of your most precious human being. At the very least, I could look to the sky and believe that tomorrow would be better.
Amelia and I got married, Amelia got pregnant. Don't ask how that went about without me seeing her naked, because she made sure I didn't. Though the curiosity still made me cringe, I couldn't disobey her most important wish like that, it was her body after all. During the birth she banned me from the delivery room and after what seemed like ages of silence in that dull hospital hallway, the distant sound of violent screaming manifested. Fearing that something was wrong, I rushed to the delivery room.
The doctors were the ones screaming, while Amelia held our child wrapped in a little blue blanket. Our son, I realized with little glee. Little, because of the state of the delivery room. The doctors were howling, scrapes and streaks of blood over there faces as they appeared to try and claw out their own eyes. Amelia hardly seemed effected or confused. I wasn't confused either, because I knew. They saw my son.
My naked son.
Days later, Amelia went on to explain that Cindy had walked in on her while she was changing in the bathroom after a shower. She had killed my daughter with that body of hers, that body I worked so hard to respect and cherish. Amelia wasn't herself anymore, she would just sit on the patio with our son in her arms, the two of them staring out at nothing.
Emotionless, motionless, monotonous...
[right I regret ever wishing for that new sensation.]
[size17 [b Next Prompt:] (s)he always said sorry]
/ 4y 162d 15h 42m 27s
[center [size10 [i "Let me go."]]]
[center [size10 [b Her voice was weak, shaking, and even to her own ears, she could hear the contradiction in her tone. She didn't want him to let go - this man that held her in his arms now, with longing and protection flickering in his eyes like a beacon of hope. She wanted him to hold on tight and never let go. Her heart begged for him to steal her away, kiss away the pain that lingered in her mind. But her conscious wouldn't allow it, which is why her voice piped out of her before she could stop herself and she was squirming out of his grasp, breaking her gaze from his - afraid of her own will power to resist.]]]
[center [size10 "Is that... Really what you want?" [b His voice was gravel, rough like his own battling emotions, as she quivered before him, biting down on her bottom lip as if it excused her from actually answering. She already knew the answer. The answer was a full hearted no. But she couldn't act on that instinct that consumed her. She loved the man before her, who more than obviously loved her back. But that wasn't enough.]]]
[center [size10 [b She couldn't love him because she was already committed to a man who would never love her. She was in nothing more than a marriage written out on paper, but that was enough to her. She had made a promise to her husband, regardless of how much emotion, or lack thereof, she had to back it up. She was dedicated to her husband, at least physically, and she always had been, which was more than she could say of him.]]]
[center [size10 [b Yes, their marriage had been nothing more than one of convenience, but at the time, she had been foolish and naive. She had thought they could come to love each other. Young and hopeful, she had met her future husband who had seemed kind and caring at first. She had fully believed she would teach herself to care for this man, and even more than that, she believed he would learn to care for her. However, any kindness she had saw in him disappeared after 'I do'. He had immediately grown distant upon moving in together. They had separate rooms, ate at different times, lived separate lives.]]]
[center [b [size10 But despite his distance, she had tried with every attempt she could muster to get close to him. But to no avail. Although, trying to get close was foolish in hindsight. How could she ever hope to impress a husband who had been unfaithful since the start? He had an affair already in play before their marriage had started and it was an affair that continued well into it all until she had accidentally found out.]]]
[center [size10 [b The naive side of her never quite disappeared. It was the reason she didn't leave her husband then. Instead she called him out on it, only to be called out on the sham of their relationship. But enough conversations ended in what she supposed could be considered her victory, put in light terms. He terminated his affair under the agreement that they were partners, if only on parchment. But that didn't change their relationship, besides for the fact that she had given up on forging any type of romance for the man she shared a house with.]]]
[center [size10 [b She kept living her false engagement with her husband, although her stomach remained churned over his betrayal, as insignificant and trivial as it may seem to him. The marriage may have been emotionless, but the breach of trust came at the cost of loosing her good will. Later though, the unexpected happened; she found comfort in a different man. It was on accident. A drunken encounter in a bar where the room was hazy and her tongue was loosened by the toxicity of alcohol. She shared her story of the man she called her spouse - shared the story of her stupid faith and innocence.]]]
[center [size10 [b This man, so different from the one she was supposed to love, gave her comfort and support. When she had no one else to turned to, he ended up being the one to take her in. They met up more after that night - never venturing further than an innocent brushing of the shoulder or a gaze that lingered too long. But tonight, after meeting on a bench at an empty park, darkened by the midnight sky, her new friend couldn't hold himself back and he had pulled her in for the sweetest kiss of her life.]]]
[center [size10 [b She had melted right into it - sweet bliss in this forbidden pleasure.]]]
[center [size10 [b She had felt a lot of things for her 'husband' - ranging from admiration to affection to discontent to frustration to distrust. But she felt something new for him during this kiss. She felt envy. Her being longed to rid herself of the reservation to not cheat. She envied the way he could so carelessly toss their agreement to the side, because right now all she wanted to do was betray him the way he had betrayed her. All she wanted to do was run away with the guy she was with now.]]]
[center [size10 [b But she couldn't. It was why she could only stir with envy over the apathetic emotion her husband carried for their arrangement and not carry through with the way her heart ached.]]]
[center [size10 [i "I can't."]]]
[center [size10 [b She wanted to explain - tell him that she loved him and wanted to be with him and why she couldn't. But her throat was too tight and her resolve was wavering even as she clambered off the bench, backing away from him and still avoiding his gaze. She wasn't going to look at him. She didn't think she could bear it.]]]
[center [size10 [i "I can't."]]]
[center [size10 [b For nothing but good measure, she repeated herself, and before the man she so desperately wanted could even attempt to convince her 'she can', she had already turned on her heel and ran away.]]]
[center [i Next Prompt : New Sensation]]
[i "...with love, Charles."] The envelope is licked shut, and he turns the pen to the front, signing out the name of his brother. Before the hour is through, he will have written four more envelopes, each addressing his loved ones, the few who mattered enough to write to. With letters designated to his mother, father, closest friend and blood brother, and his former English teacher, he now sat at the desk, chewing the weathered strings of his hoodie. One final letter, and he'd be done. But it was this letter that he knew would never be finished.
[i "Molly... I'm sorry. I know that you understand, and if I could make this up to you, I would. If there was anything I could do that would make things better, If do it in a heartbeat. None of what happened is because of you. I adore you, and I want the best for you, no matter what happens, or what you think of me now. But..."] The husky chirps of a pen scratching on paper slowed, then muted to a stop. Without thought, he grabbed the paper, crumbling it with an instant fury, and hurled it across the room, where it clattered among several other wads of parchment, the previous failed attempts to put emotion through his words, and into the world.
Another sheet. Another start. But no more words. Not with Molly. Her letter was meant to be better than all the others.
His mother and father, he talked about his childhood, his shortcomings and guilt for the stress of the last few months.
With his brother, he recollected their younger days, and the games they'd play. How he regretted that those days weren't cherished more, and they'd only taken them for granted.
With his English teacher, he'd thanked him for all the extra time invested into him. How she'd pushed him to pick up a pencil and try writing something. How she'd personally driven him to the poetry slams in other towns when his parents couldn't afford the time. Introduced him to the excellence of Robert Frost and Mary Shelley, then encouraged him to pursue his own poetic style. How she gave him a gift, of love for writing, a gift he'd never have any hour of being able to repay.
And his best friend, he'd had no choice but to use his letter to explain. What happened, and what he needed him to do. [i Make sure they're okay, Alex], he'd written, though he already knew that Alex would be furious later, asking why he had to make sure everyone was okay, when he wasn't okay, and never would be again. But he trusted him, and knew that their bond would ensure Asked would be the stable rock for others to cling to, in the coming times.
But with Molly.... Charles sunk his head into his hands, and key out a groan of frustration. There was too much to say! But there weren't enough words, and with everything he wanted to say, he knew none of it would ever be enough. Not too fix this, and not to make sure her heart didn't break. There was too much to tell her, but at the same time, absolutely nothing to say. He knew this was his last chance, so he picked up the pen with shaky, nerve-wracked hands, and began scribbling out the only words he could muster up.
Charles thought he had known emotion in literature, thought he had written his feelings down perfectly before, but those were nothing compared to this. He felt his soul drain with every letter, and every word brought another wave of pure, raw feeling. Tears streamed from his face, falling onto the table, collecting onto his letteras he wrote. Finally, he picked up the paper, and stared hard at what he'd written.
[center [i Molly,
I love you.
Six words. To him, though, they were all the words he had. With one final state of regret, he sighed, and licked the envelope's lining, dealing the letter to where it would remain for the night. In the morning, it would be discovered, and in another day, delivered to its recipient, who would sob at the words written. She would preserve all of their mementos. Become a widow in high school, vowing to never move on, never find another.
Eventually, this promise was broken. She would throw out all the photos, discard the little souvenirs she'd received from him.
But the letter, the letter would always stay.
Prompt given: Envy
You stand on the precipice of a great gaping cliff. Below are endless lands. The road up to here is down-trod with the patter of enthusiastic and finally, tired feet. Those that are left behind simmer in their fantasy world with a distant stare.
At the start of the journey there was nothing more you wanted but to grow up. Childishly you figure that walking is something you can do, no matter how many times you fall down. With all the patience in the world you learn the words needed to express yourself and every step you take. Every inch you progress, appears away from a world you came from. No longer are there monsters in your closet -or they have now become skeletons instead. There aren't any lava-streams flowing down the stairs of your parental house. Mountains turn back to ordinary tables. Toy air plains to broken plastic and stuffed animals stop their infinite conversation.
A cynical world overtakes you, to protect that child from the onslaught of reality and the barrier is so thick, so sturdy, nothing comes through.
Not even your own imagination.
Prompt given: Imagination.
Cancer.. It ravage her body like an abominable plague. Her vivacious attitude was feed morsel by morsel to the disease as it feasted upon her for days which turned to months. Sure, there were times when she dragged herself to her feet, those haggard eyes still burning with a vehemence. In the back of her mind, she couldn’t conceive that it was coming for her. Death. An ebony carriage stood before her hospital bed on March 23, 2013. How fitting for her, she’d always been fond of ponies. Horseback ridding was her passion, but she was to fray, to fragile to mount a horse and fill it move her around, so death offered her his final kindness to her. Scooping her up in his arm the reaper carried her onto that carriage and held her in his arms and took her to the ethereal plane.
Sometimes, I liked to dream of seeing her on the plutonian shore. Her delicate mid-day sky blue eyes shimmering with life once again. Dressed in a winter-color dress, she would spend her times walking barefoot in the sands. Gentle washing the waves become like fingers and caress the her feet. Softly tickling her and drawing that jovial laugh which cancer also took away…. I guess it doesn’t matter. My friends, my family, they all say I’ll be joining her soon if I keep on succumbing to my bad habits, the habits which she had once gotten me out of. But, I couldn’t. Without her constant support, I fell back into old habits, and for the past few months, the world has been frozen in time for me.
Nothing matters anymore.
[i “Mommy, Mommy Look! I’m a princess, I’m Bella! Bella! Bella!”]
It was too painful for her... Cynthia…. It warls like, having nails hammering into the soul. To see such a beautiful young child on the screen ignorantly aware of her fate. How? Why? How could innocent five year old grow into such a beautiful flower; and become withered and dead? Where was the fairness in that? Where was God in the suffering of the people who needed him the most? Where was he!?
Her name falls upon my hand and I sniffle. Cynthia had told me that this, this was her final gift to me. I never had the chance to experience her childhood, her happiest moments before our lives intertwined or the briefest of times. Three years. Three years was nothing. Yet to her it meant everything.
[i Iscariot?] My heart freezes and my eyes widen.
There she is. Standing right in front of me. A thin piece of paper is held in her hands, and I remember this day well. A year and half after we meet, she was diagnose.. On that day she went home… and she ignore me for the almost a week… And yet..
[i “Iscariot. This is a… letter to you.]
[i “I believe… that love is an infinite bond that connects two souls together for… eternity. There is no stronger force that can prevent me from.. being with you and loving you.. If you’re watching this then… I’m probably gone, physically. I don’t know, how long we were together. I don’t know if… we had sex, or.. um.. ha.. ha… I hope we… were together long enough to get engage. But, if we weren’t. Then. It doesn’t matter. I know that you probably feel like the world has stopped spinning. But that’s not true.. The world hasn’t stop.. Nor has it lost its beauty, or grander, or wonderfulness or anything. Just because I’m gone, I haven’t stopped loving you. I’ve accepted this… cancer. I’ve already accepted death. I spent a week… meditating, and soul-searching… and all that I’ve found is that I love you.. You fill up my heart, my soul, and my life is complete with you. I love you for you. And I don’t want to lose you, the you I love. The you I adore.. Stay with me. Even when I’m gone, stay with me, in spirit, emotionally, stay with me by continuing to hope, and see the beauty of this world. Because there is always hope. Always, even when I’m not here with you any longer, there will always be hope. I love you… and that’s the end of this letter.”]
I didn’t think it was possible to cry as much as I did. Maybe it was the fact that I kept on hitting the replay button, or maybe it was the fact that I really, really, missed that girl. But for the first time, in a long time, I felt alright I felt as if… the world had regain its sanity and that maybe, she was right. Maybe hope was still somewhere to found.
I don’t know. I’m still skeptical, but… all I can do is try for her.
[center Prompt giving,"Fantasy" ]
All posts are either in parody or to be taken as literature. This is a roleplay site. Sexual content is forbidden.