Let's see what life can be made with words

An Eternal Hug

fishyq18 — Wed, 23 Jul 2008 20:10:50 +0000

She stares into the midnight sky

And for the last time takes in what she sees

Night is the only time she feels peace

And harmony in this hateful world

She feels the love can be

And the love that refuses to show

The kisses that were refused

And the hugs that were never given

She’s has her fill of the night

And goes into her room

Her peace is shaken as memories

Of neglect and hate flood toward her

She knows that what she is about to do

Is, for her, the right decision

She looks intently at the one thing

That will free her of her pain

The inviting rope beckons,

Calls to her

Saying words only she could hear

It kissed her cheeks and finally her neck

Then darkness embraces her

In an Eternal hug

A peculiar girl

fishyq18 — Wed, 23 Jul 2008 20:04:17 +0000

Angie Beaman.

A peculiar girl.

The outcast, the one

Unnoticed by many.

Overlooked at the lunch table,

She eats alone.

Smart but silent.

Dead.

Mother cries the story:

How Angie acted that night,

How she cleaned the kitchen

Until the floor shone.

Her room was spotless,

Her clothes neatly folded.

Her pale hand on mom’s

Cheek as she softly says,

“I love you, Mama.

I always will.”

Mama finding her

the next morning,

hanging from her showerhead.

Students hug and cry,

As if they knew her:

Infuriating the people that did.

What Angie did was wrong,

But she deserves this attention

She never got.

Wonder

fishyq18 — Wed, 23 Jul 2008 19:58:15 +0000

Peace

Quiet

Not a single sound except

The breeze dancing through

The tall grass and tops of trees

Such beauty and stillness over

The mirror-like lake.

One of the few last wonders

In the confusing world

The Rain Grew Stronger and the Sea Rougher as the Night Progressed

fishyq18 — Wed, 23 Jul 2008 19:55:02 +0000

A slight drizzle at first

Making as soft a noise

As water dripping from the faucet

A calm, relaxing pitter-patter

On the roofs of houses

Then the steady beat grows

Louder

Faster

Louder

Faster!

Thunder roaring in the mountains

Lightning brighting the night sky

As if the sun is battling its way to

Light up the world again

The sea started to whisper

Then talk

Then shout!

Furiously thrashing its limbs

And destroying all in its way.

The night passeds slowly.

No one could sleep.

They wonder if they sleep,

they ever wake again.

School Shooting Monologue

fishyq18 — Wed, 23 Jul 2008 19:46:32 +0000

I should have never ended up this way. Come to think of it, no one who has gone through the same predicament I did should ever end up this way. But I got pushed. Literally. Too many times to count. And shoved. Punched. Kicked. Mugged. Teased. Avoided….the works. I don’t know what I did. I don’t even know how it all started. All I know is that I got pushed physically and now I’m pushed mentally. If only one certain event didn’t happed, I wouldn’t have snapped and so many people wouldn’t be dead.

I was about to get dressed after PE when I noticed that something wasn’t right. Something didn’t smell right. I opened my locker and hanging on the back-pack hook was a dead rat, slowly swinging…back and forth…back and forth. i jumped back, disgusted, and right behind me was Billy Olsen, laughing while his perfect white teeth seemed to glow.

“Hey! Is that a friend of yours?” he scoffed.

I picked up my street shoe and immediately regretted it. Thick, red, oozy goo ran down my arm. I realized after a moment that it was blood. I looked at the rat: its throat had been slashed. I don’t know when they found the time to do it, but at that moment I felt my mind go blank. All that was around me were the faces of people laughing hysterically. At me. At the dead rat. At my shoe. At the blood dripping from my fingertips. I walked out the locker room in a zombie trance, leaving confused faces staring after me.

I walked into my house, making my way to the table-drawer at the top of the stairway. I pulled the drawer open, it squeaked a little, and under a load of old mail was a black pistol. I picked it up slowly. It felt cold and dangerous in my hand, yet powerful. I felt a thrill of frightened excitement run through me as I disengaged the safety. I have never felt so much control in my life.

I made it back to school in time for my last period class. But I wouldn’t be going to it. No…I would be going around the school, making the people who put me through hell and torture go through worse than I ever had. And what luck I had! The first random class I entered I entered had Billy Olsen…right in the front row. I walked in.

“Excuse me. sir!” I heard the teacher say. “I am teaching a class!” BANG!

“Not anymore,” I smirked. I pointed the gun at Billy, the crusted blood around my arm chipping off on his desk. He looked at me, fear in his eyes, which was quite satisfying to me.

“I’m sorry,” he croaked. BANG!

“It’s a little too late for that I’m afraid.” I walked out of classroom, leaving screams and looks of fear behind me this time. I entered another classroom: BANG! Another: BANG! And soon, just as I had lost count of how many times I got beat up, I lost track of how many people I shot.

Soon, I felt reality hit me. I was no longer in control of the weapon: it was in control of me. I suddenly realized what I had done. I looked around me: people were running all over, crying, screaming, and trying to hide…FROM ME! I felt as if I were awaking from a dream: an eerily satifying dream. But I felt the pressure of the situation overwhelm me. I started to panic…my breath came faster and faster, feeling like I had gotted the worst punch in the stomach ever imagined. I gripped my hand around the gun cry…no sob for all the lives I took and the look on their faces as I was about to pull the trigger. I ran to the bathroom and looked at myself in the mirror. I didn’t know who I was or what I had become. I didn’t look as tough as I felt ten minutes ago. And now I’m here…looking at myself…gun in hand…hand moving toward head…one last final BANG!

In a way, it was destiny

fishyq18 — Sat, 24 May 2008 19:38:52 +0000

It’s a funny word: Destiny. I was never a believer of that word. But things have changed. if it was for the better, I don’t know yet. But hopefully soon I will know.
I think it all started about six months ago: the day I found out that I was afraid of my shadow. I was walking in the busy streets of New York when I noticed it. The way it followed me. It mimicked my every movement, my every step and no matter how much I tried to get away from it, it followed me, stalking me. I finally found solice in the darkness of my apartment. I lived in darkness. But after a while I realized all of potential dangers of my apartment: the food in my fridge could be poisened, the chips could have magets in them. But I snapped myself out of it. I told myself that I was being silly, that nothing was wrong. but after two more months of this, I started to waver in my conviction.
The beginning of the end for me was when I looked at my reflection. I saw all of the dangers of it. The way that, like my shadow, my reflection followed my every movement. This time was worse, though. I could SEE the person mocking me. She wouldn’t leave. She was everywhere I looked and went. I couldn’t take it anymore! I punched the glass, my knuckles breaking and glass sticking into my flesh. I heard a knock at my door. I ran over and said hysterically,
“I know what you’re up to! You’re all against me!”
“Alanna!” a voice said. “It’s me! Victoria! i’m so worried about you! Please let me in!”
But I knew better. It was not my sister. It was ‘them.’ They were all out for me. I opened the door and attacked the imposter, strangling her until she stopped breathing.
And now I’m here. I guess in a way it was destiny. i was never accepted by society, but i am now. My fellow peers making their home in their padded cells. And I’m among them now. The men in white coats say that I’m sick. But I have never felt better in my life.

Hello Starshine!!!

fishyq18 — Fri, 23 May 2008 19:24:39 +0000

Hi everyone! This is my fantasic summer blog, filled with all of my writes of my Creative Writing class and stuff in my free time. I put my sweat, blood, tears, heart, soul and other things you don’t want to know about in all of my writes. Please read and comment so I can see your feedback and know what I need to improve on. Peace Out Homedawgs!