I don't know, I just feel like I'm not really here at the moment. My mind is always somewhere else. I don't know where though, for you see I have actually lost my mind.
I feel like I'm split into four people. The solid me? She's just not present right now, I don't know where she is. Like I said, I lost her. I didn't mean to though...
I promise.
The saddest thing about losing me, is that nothing ever feels 'right' anymore. You know what I mean! That gut feeling you get when you make decisions or when you...
Travel light, but take everything with you. That motto had served Herschel well all these years and he wasn't about to abandon it now.
He stepped over the fresh corpse. Putting down the gun, its barrel still hot and smoking, he went into the bathroom for his toothbrush, grabbed the bills from his roommate's rapidly cooling hands, and walked out the door.
All Sam had wanted was a ride.
He's grown up in the Mid West, eaten his breakfast from cereal cartons plastered with the faces of lost children, so he knew the dangers. Still, it was raining. The weather was crap, and out of the falling rain the white ambulance had come like an angel of mercy. It's flashing lights were off; only the fog lights cut through the gloom, shining on him like a halo.
"Want a ride?" called the driver over the water's roar.
Indeed, he did. His goal, simply to get from point A to B in relative...
A coffee before bed.
For the soul that never came home.
No need to add sugar, because the dream will give the sweetness.
And when the morning comes, I'll make a coffee again. For the empty soul and empty days.
No need to add sugar, because im faithful to the dream.
Before the night comes, my life is always black and bitter.
What happens when life finally becomes too much to bear? He thought about it a great deal - but was unable to put hiself into those shoes. What happens when you feel death is more important than life? Or is that the wrong question to ask, he wondered. Perhaps the real question was: why had she decided that death on her own was preferable to life with him?
He had come home that day - an ordinary day like any other day - and been surprised not to find her in her usual place in the kitchen. Every time he...
When I was young, I would sneak out onto my roof with my father's cigarettes and chain smoke. They knew I did it. They found the butts on the ground in the yard. But no one said anything.
I sat up there, puff puffing away, texting a girl I thought I could never out grow.
"Run away with me," she said. I wanted to. I almost did. But I was almost done with my senior year of high school. Things were okay for me for the first time in years.
She never forgave me for saying no. The last time...
Lost but he couldn't stop hearing those footsteps, in his mind. They kept going on and on. Jack could hear his footsteps echoing.
Jack sat there engulfed in smoke – hoping the ash-filled clouds would somehow shield him from the pain.
Her body flew through the air, so unnaturally, like a bird caught in a tornado. The blood cascading down her forehead like a waterfall of emotion.
Her delicate face was transformed into a mask – a crimson mask of blood and agony. The smell of burnt rubber and panic in the air. It was electric. Why did she have...
In the 'old days' I would close my eyes and see colors and a land scape so serene that I dare not open my eyes. These vision were so vivid that they would take me and I could be in this peaceful and tranquil, but now I close my eyes all I see a world set in a haze void of color a bleak land warped by corruption.
What happen? where did my peacefulness go?
I open my eyes to a cold small room, water dripping from the eves, and wind that caries a foul smell. I step outside into...
Perched upon a thin branch flailing in the wind, the owl cried out into the night, "Who cooks for you? Who cooks for you?" Only the still, dead night and the rustling of branches and drying leaves responded.
I tampered with my oil lamp and let the flame grow tall, casting shadows that played hide and seek on trees. Shadows bounced off of trunks, flickered to the branches, and waned off on the broad, saw toothed leaves.
The owl's cry grew into the night, screeching to the stars, to the trees, to anyone that was willing to listen. "Who cooks...
There was blood on my pillow. I could smell it, I ripped the cover of the bed and ran to the bathroom, check to see If I had a bloody nose. No. check for any other sources of blood, there where none on me. I returned to my bed room confused and in thought. Where was I last night? whose blood is this?
Just Breath stay calm. I put on a shirt, ran down stairs to look for more clues. Sitting at my table was a man who wore a fedora and covered his mouth when he spoke "some party...