Some people will tell you that time will heal all wounds but they don't know the truth. They simply hide behind nice sounding words meant to comfort those of us who have experienced unspeakable pain and the deepest of wounds. They don't know that some scars never go away. Some cuts never stop bleeding. Some hearts never quite knit themselves together again. And no stain every really comes out. "Time will heal all wounds" Beautiful words really, but a joke just like every other promise of healing. Time will do alot of things. It will grow up your little girl...
You know that sound of large brass bells ringing in your ears? That ring that some people think is just jolly fine and dandy? Well, to some other people, the sound of those bells sounds rich, deep, and hollow. It resonates in the hollow parts of someone's heart. The places in their heart that have been turned into huge, gaping voids, created by heartless words and broken promises. Sure, once in awhile someone will find something else to fill in those voids, turning the sound of ringing bells back into the lovely, joyful sound it once was. But other times,...
I'm with stupid. The boy I was standing next to is an idiot. He continuously talked to me about whales, telling me how big they can grow to and what their teeth are made of. Why was I stuck with him? I could have been stuck on an island with anyone else, but nope.
He decided to swim for a bit, not thinking about the shark infested waters. I let him go without realising what he was doing. I was daydreaming of being home and eating blueberry pancakes. I soon was snapped out of my world and back into reality...
I let out a heavy sigh as I stepped over the cobwebs, allowing myself to have a moment of preparation. The swing rocked softly in the wind, beckoning me closer to its creaking gears. A piece of fabric rustled, caught in the links of the toy. I rushed towards it, snatching the piece of fabric from the wind, as it threatened to engulf it. The only piece of evidence that Mary had been here.
I stalked home, allowing myself to breathe, as I saw the missing posters pasted on the wall. The evidence would never be found, they would never...
I can still see the shadow of the hooded unknown, swaying back and forth whilst wielding a gun. The fumes of gun power turn into a haze, accumulating each time they pull the trigger. The blast of the gun temporarily makes my ear deaf and the sound of shots reverberate each time. the taste of smoke is bitter with the metallic taste of blood flowing out of my bitten cheek mixing in concoction. Fragments of glass scatter among the concrete floor of the prison, glass webs hanging on from the edge of the window frame, the only thing still intact...
Some people think there is a trick to self-hypnosis. There isn't. The whole thing is a trick. You need to want to be hypnotized, let yourself be hypnotized. But you can't want it so much that you are unable to be hypnotized. It's like living in a zen koan.
There are many different ways of hypnotizing yourself. Some people can meditate themselves into a trance. Some people use drugs. But most people use recordings. And for many people, self-hypnosis works because they can hear their own voice, it works better than a stranger's. Your own voice, some comfortable and common,...
She'd always come running when I called. That's why when she didn't come, I freaked out. My girlfriend was kind and gentle. Sweet and caring. I was very depressed before she died. When I called, she'd come running, whether I needed someone to bake a cake with me or someone to keel me from shooting myself in the head. I loved her. She'd always come running when I called. I called her that day in a state of panic. I couldn't find my watch, someone must've taken it. She said she'd come. I waited for about an hour before calling...
He ran into the room, his heart pounding and his clothes soaking wet. The boy closed the door behind him and pressed his back against it as strands of damp blond hair stuck to his forehead. He strained to listen for sounds on the other side of the door while the blood pounded through his ears and drops of rain mixed with sweat trickled down his face.
His hand went swiftly into his shirt and smoothly pulled out the leather packet. A sly smile spread slowly accross his face as he felt the cool, smooth surface of the leather...
"Adam! Give me the Pelican! Now!" John half screamed half sobbed. "It's mine!"
"No mine!" Adam clutched the Pelican to his chest. "My turn!"
"But mommy gave it to me! My Pelican!" John grabbed for it. "Mine!"
Adam would not relent. "No!"
"I'm gonna tell mommy that you took my Pelican!"
"Boys!" Both men looked up. "You are 30 years old. Adults! You should not be acting like 3 year olds!"
Both men hung their heads. "Yes mommy..."
"Now Adam. Give John back his pelican. I'll get you your Teddy bear, alright?"
"Yes mommy..." Adam slowly gave his brother back...
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