Knots_in_my_stomach
New member
- Jul 16, 2009
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haha okay so i thought i would take a crack at it. its really late and im living on no sleep. oh did i mention IM BORED! so here tell me what you think. i havent even given it a read hahah its like 5 am.
well just read it, and give me a few tips and hints hahah please be brutal. ive got 4 entire months of nothingness planned. im already sick of it....
any way, ENJOY, or dont, what ever hahahahhah
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5 DEATHS AND A STORY
PROLOUGE
Before I begin let me just say that no one lives through this story. After the final chapter there is no ‘to be continued’, there isn’t a happy ending and there aren’t any twist and turns that will leave you hoping, believing that maybe a character you identified with would survive. No nothing works out, no morals, no preaching, no final realization. The screen fades to black and that’s it. Life doesn’t work out in the end, life won’t give you a second chance. You get one. And then, that’s it. There’s no final solution. Life will go on, whether you’re dead or alive. There are five people, five chapters and one link that connects them all, ill save that for the end.
Any way let’s begin.
CHAPTER 1
Music played in the background.
It was one of those songs that you could almost sing along to if you could remember the words.
The smell of burnt, smoke from his last cigarette
If he had his eyes open he would see the elegant setting of a library completely furnished in dark maple desk, chairs and shelf’s almost stuffed with books, and a laptop powered on in a corner of the room on the floor.
Even with the single lamp on, from the desk and the white glow from the laptop you can see the chaos of the room that this reclining figure sat center of. Organised chaos he liked to call it. Almost every inch was covered in sheets full of doodles he was so fond of making and half finished books and miscellaneous items that he wouldn’t get rid of because it may or may not be applicable in some obscure never to be completed work of mediocre art that he had no interest in. It was a complicated life.
There wasn’t a clock in the room but the light from the window said it was midnight. The moon full and bright gave almost perfect detail to everything.
Let’s not focus any more on this person; i won’t even say his name. Names always create a sense of attachment and familiarity. This person won’t be alive long enough for such unfortunate pleasures as to have someone to morn for him.
The music erupted into static and his eyes fluttered open looking around for this sudden change in what he called ‘man time’
As his eyes passed the window the promised clear night turned foggy, so thick that it was almost entirely white.
A little girl stepped into the fog. Silence. The static that buzzed in the background was gone and the soft sad yet beautiful coo of the little girl sobbing made it to his ears, almost as clear as if she were weeping on his shoulder.
She was scarred and naked, barely a teenager, shoulder length dirty hair hung loose, twigs and leafs stuck here and there, her skin a lighter pale even than the fog.
She walked slowly to the very center of the street to be perfectly framed in the window, her profile to him. Looking at her feet, visibly lost and crying. Arms by her side hung loose, the obvious signs of abuse on her shoulders
He got out of the chair, walked to the window and stood there, stuck between wanting to rush to her aid and staying in the comfort and safety of his study. Her sobs still ringing in his ear.
All noise suddenly stopped, he was deaf. He smelt burning lavender, he thought he was having a stroke before realising that it was supposed to be burnt toast that signalled a stroke. The girl in the street jerked almost as if she was struck and her head slowly rose to stare straight ahead as if she finally realised where she was. Like something had clicked in her head. Like she was aware.
He finally caught a glimpse of her face and saw a tear stained eye and a scar on her cheek. That decided it. The sweet stained angelic face was to much to bear for his heart. He had to rush to her.
He looked around the floor for a towel or blanket he could use to cover the child while he thought of what to do with her. For her.
Suddenly deafening sirens blared in his ears, his heart that was filled with sorrow was now consumed with fear. Squeezing his eyes shut he slapped his hands over his ears to feel a warm sticky liquid run down his palm.
Knees buckling he fell to the floor and in his panic looked out the window. The angelic face that created the feelings of utter helplessness and almost physical knots in his stomach, was now pressed against the window. What he believed was angelic now seemed the spawn of desperate evil demons. One eye hollow and bleeding, beet red against blue ice skin, the other slit under the lower eye lid. H
hhahah gramatical errors aside hahah i just wanted to write
ignore whatever you think may have given me a failing grade in high school hahahah
well just read it, and give me a few tips and hints hahah please be brutal. ive got 4 entire months of nothingness planned. im already sick of it....
any way, ENJOY, or dont, what ever hahahahhah
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
5 DEATHS AND A STORY
PROLOUGE
Before I begin let me just say that no one lives through this story. After the final chapter there is no ‘to be continued’, there isn’t a happy ending and there aren’t any twist and turns that will leave you hoping, believing that maybe a character you identified with would survive. No nothing works out, no morals, no preaching, no final realization. The screen fades to black and that’s it. Life doesn’t work out in the end, life won’t give you a second chance. You get one. And then, that’s it. There’s no final solution. Life will go on, whether you’re dead or alive. There are five people, five chapters and one link that connects them all, ill save that for the end.
Any way let’s begin.
CHAPTER 1
Music played in the background.
It was one of those songs that you could almost sing along to if you could remember the words.
The smell of burnt, smoke from his last cigarette
If he had his eyes open he would see the elegant setting of a library completely furnished in dark maple desk, chairs and shelf’s almost stuffed with books, and a laptop powered on in a corner of the room on the floor.
Even with the single lamp on, from the desk and the white glow from the laptop you can see the chaos of the room that this reclining figure sat center of. Organised chaos he liked to call it. Almost every inch was covered in sheets full of doodles he was so fond of making and half finished books and miscellaneous items that he wouldn’t get rid of because it may or may not be applicable in some obscure never to be completed work of mediocre art that he had no interest in. It was a complicated life.
There wasn’t a clock in the room but the light from the window said it was midnight. The moon full and bright gave almost perfect detail to everything.
Let’s not focus any more on this person; i won’t even say his name. Names always create a sense of attachment and familiarity. This person won’t be alive long enough for such unfortunate pleasures as to have someone to morn for him.
The music erupted into static and his eyes fluttered open looking around for this sudden change in what he called ‘man time’
As his eyes passed the window the promised clear night turned foggy, so thick that it was almost entirely white.
A little girl stepped into the fog. Silence. The static that buzzed in the background was gone and the soft sad yet beautiful coo of the little girl sobbing made it to his ears, almost as clear as if she were weeping on his shoulder.
She was scarred and naked, barely a teenager, shoulder length dirty hair hung loose, twigs and leafs stuck here and there, her skin a lighter pale even than the fog.
She walked slowly to the very center of the street to be perfectly framed in the window, her profile to him. Looking at her feet, visibly lost and crying. Arms by her side hung loose, the obvious signs of abuse on her shoulders
He got out of the chair, walked to the window and stood there, stuck between wanting to rush to her aid and staying in the comfort and safety of his study. Her sobs still ringing in his ear.
All noise suddenly stopped, he was deaf. He smelt burning lavender, he thought he was having a stroke before realising that it was supposed to be burnt toast that signalled a stroke. The girl in the street jerked almost as if she was struck and her head slowly rose to stare straight ahead as if she finally realised where she was. Like something had clicked in her head. Like she was aware.
He finally caught a glimpse of her face and saw a tear stained eye and a scar on her cheek. That decided it. The sweet stained angelic face was to much to bear for his heart. He had to rush to her.
He looked around the floor for a towel or blanket he could use to cover the child while he thought of what to do with her. For her.
Suddenly deafening sirens blared in his ears, his heart that was filled with sorrow was now consumed with fear. Squeezing his eyes shut he slapped his hands over his ears to feel a warm sticky liquid run down his palm.
Knees buckling he fell to the floor and in his panic looked out the window. The angelic face that created the feelings of utter helplessness and almost physical knots in his stomach, was now pressed against the window. What he believed was angelic now seemed the spawn of desperate evil demons. One eye hollow and bleeding, beet red against blue ice skin, the other slit under the lower eye lid. H
hhahah gramatical errors aside hahah i just wanted to write
ignore whatever you think may have given me a failing grade in high school hahahah