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Literature Text
The boy sees her from across the small room. She’s so quiet, so alone-just playing with a small doll she seems to cherish. He sees her in the corner, away from everyone. He wants to talk to her, but she bats anyone who comes near her. Would she reject him as well?
She refuses to be touched or to have anyone near her. How could they know how she feels? How could they possibly suspect? She sees those around her whispering and pointing. No doubt they were talking about her. Everyone always seemed to. She wasn’t normal-at least that’s what they said.
He smiles. Not the same smile as everyone is used to, but a wicked smile. Darkness slowly takes control over his thoughts. He no longer cares about making the little girl happy, but making her suffer. How much pain could one person endure? How long would it be till she obeyed him?
She cries. Tries to run from everything and can’t. Fear overwhelms her. Pain is all she can feel. Hurt and anguish now have meaning for her-they aren't just words someone says of what could happen. She can feel the bruises forming on her body, the blood starting to drip from her skin. How could he be so spiteful? How could he take what’s hers?
He laughs at her pain. Her agonized screams fill his ears: a symphony. Her pathetic attempts of running away are a joke to him. How could she possibly think she could escape him? No one ever has. No one ever will. She would be his and his alone.
She stops running. Instead, she laughs at him and everyone around her. She holds the matches in her hand as the fire begins. The girl falls down to her knees as her laughter fills the room. The smell of flesh burning creeps up to her nose and she refuses to move. Her mother screams for her to come out. The girl just laughs as the fires consume her. Laughing as the fire eats away at her. Laughing till she dies.
He smirks at his victim. His plan to destroy her worked. The boy only wanted her suffering at his hand.
She refuses to be touched or to have anyone near her. How could they know how she feels? How could they possibly suspect? She sees those around her whispering and pointing. No doubt they were talking about her. Everyone always seemed to. She wasn’t normal-at least that’s what they said.
He smiles. Not the same smile as everyone is used to, but a wicked smile. Darkness slowly takes control over his thoughts. He no longer cares about making the little girl happy, but making her suffer. How much pain could one person endure? How long would it be till she obeyed him?
She cries. Tries to run from everything and can’t. Fear overwhelms her. Pain is all she can feel. Hurt and anguish now have meaning for her-they aren't just words someone says of what could happen. She can feel the bruises forming on her body, the blood starting to drip from her skin. How could he be so spiteful? How could he take what’s hers?
He laughs at her pain. Her agonized screams fill his ears: a symphony. Her pathetic attempts of running away are a joke to him. How could she possibly think she could escape him? No one ever has. No one ever will. She would be his and his alone.
She stops running. Instead, she laughs at him and everyone around her. She holds the matches in her hand as the fire begins. The girl falls down to her knees as her laughter fills the room. The smell of flesh burning creeps up to her nose and she refuses to move. Her mother screams for her to come out. The girl just laughs as the fires consume her. Laughing as the fire eats away at her. Laughing till she dies.
He smirks at his victim. His plan to destroy her worked. The boy only wanted her suffering at his hand.
Literature
The Monster in Me.
Slowly killing me, it strives for perfection.
From razor blades to obsessing about weight;
it's never happy.
Beginning with a safety-pin, the cuts only got deeper.
Vicious names and deep self-loathe fuels it,
cold metal and blood dripping make it smile;
but it's never happy.
Burning hundreds of calories a day,
no matter how much or how little I ate.
Counting calories, cutting out meat,
starving, binging, purging , striving for perfection;
it's still never happy.
A melancholy cycle and the monster lives
striving for perfection but only reaching depression.
Cutting soothes it and weight loss keeps coming.
The mo
Literature
Abused
Daddy hits,
Mommy screams,
Brother stabs,
And Sissy cleans.
And soon as shes done,
It starts all over again,
Guns are shot,
And you bleed,
You cant trust anyone it seems.
Youll go to the hospital,
Theyll mend your heart,
But when you come home,
It will fall apart.
You never even have time to go to the bathroom,
Or enjoy the life youve been given,
Because as soon as you walk through the door,
The torture starts,
And youre falling apart.
Someday it will end,
Your broken heart shall be mend,
Theyll pay for the pain caused,
And you will not be abused anymore.
Literature
Rape
Tearing tendons, ripping flesh
Teeth sink lower in my chest
Rough hands graze my cheek
Gag my mouth so I can't speak
Hold me down to have your way
As you break my soul again today
Suggested Collections
Never write something while listening to the same song over and over. Monster by Meg and Dia was on my list. It's addictive if you ask me.
Anyways, this came out in 15 mins. I did a little test to see what I could do in that time. This is it. Here's the thing: It's two different stories in one! That's right! You heard me. It seems like it's one story just switching POV, but it's two different. Girl is one and boy is the other.
I know it's not exactly horror, but it's close enough and I didn't know where else to put it.
Critique is good.
Anyways, this came out in 15 mins. I did a little test to see what I could do in that time. This is it. Here's the thing: It's two different stories in one! That's right! You heard me. It seems like it's one story just switching POV, but it's two different. Girl is one and boy is the other.
I know it's not exactly horror, but it's close enough and I didn't know where else to put it.
Critique is good.
© 2009 - 2024 paintedbluerose
Comments154
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Keep up the good work man, I like it.