Tears stained her face

Tears stained her face

Like paint on a canvas

Her cheeks were red

And her eyes were sore

But her smile was like the sun

 

 

 

 

Heyyyyyyyy,

I have a science test tomorrow and my wifi isn’t working :(. I’m currently using my hotspot and saying goodbye to my data. Happy Halloween! I’m thinking of making a monthly review so stay tuned. How was your day?

Xx

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My father taught me to punch when I was seven …

When I was seven my father taught me to punch. He said it was necessary for a strong young boy of my age. My brother and I practised, using each other as canvases for pain and for honour. Hour upon hour, we would punch each other, each vying for the increasingly short attention span of my father. We didn’t understand when our mother would gasp in horror at our bruises, mirrored by her own, hidden under layers upon layers of makeup. Despite my mother’s distaste for these events, my brother and I continued to use each other as literal punching bags. My father, who I know look upon with severe distaste, cheered us on, encouraging a form of abuse for which I still have no name. These experiences presented me with a childhood, with blossoming violent tendencies that I cared nought for but to impress my father. When reflecting, these experiences were clearly the creation of my violent tendencies. No wonder I had been filed with two cases of assault before the age of 21. 

 

Howdy everyone! I finally have a decent wifi connection! WHOOP WHOOP! I decided to write a short story, let me know if you want a part two because I haven’t started it yet. My holiday is excellent! It is nice to have a two solid weeks away from the stress of school and my poor sleeping issues have literally flown out the door. I have soooo many posts to catch up on! Hopefully I will see you all soon,

Xx

We all need kindness

She sat alone and bedraggled on the side of the street. Her hair hung limp and greasy round her gaunt face. Ribs protruded from her shirt. I met her eyes and saw a hunger as I had never known before. It was a hunger for a proper life. I averted my gaze, dropped a few copper coins and continued on my way. As I neared the end of the alley a shriek fluctuated the silence of the afternoon. There she sat, backed against a corner, two hungry demons prowling close. I screamed in horror and rushed towards them. I fought with all my inner strength. The girl stayed silent. I wiped a streak of crimson blood from my face. The deed was done. She looked at me, voice croaky.
“Why?”
“You don’t need a reason to help someone in need.” I replied simply.

Don’t jump to conclusions

On a sweltering hot day just south of the Kungda river sat a small town. Within that town was a quaint coffee shop with no aircon or fans and that is where our story takes place.

“Kill me now,” cried a girl whose short height was made up for with her huge personality. The dark haired stranger in front of her nodded in sympathy. She looked at him through her eyelashes and her heart skipped a beat. He looked as if he had been carved from stone with his sharp jawline and blemish free face. She grinned, sweat trickling down her back.
“I’ll take a coffee and a croissant.” He said in a husky tone. She sighed dreamily, the perfect man standing just one tabletop away.
“April?” He asked as she stared at him dreamily.
“Right, one minute.” She exclaimed. April handed him the croissant and turned to the coffee machine. The strangers phone rang.
“Hey. I have to go. Forget the coffee ,” he said and rushed out of the door.
“What the actual fuck!?” She said furiously as she turned around with the coffee. April watched, anger coursing through her blood as the man left the shop taking with him part of her salary and a broken heart.

***

Kai entered the coffee shop admiring the quaint pink booths and tables. He made his way to the counter.
“Kill me now.” Said a red-faced girl. He chuckled in reply and ordered his daily special. She handed him a croissant. His phone rang and he picked up.
“Kai, your girlfriend … she’s in hospital!” A voice cried through the phone wracked with grief. He stood there shellshocked and then snapped into action. He mumbled an apology to the girl and then sprinted out the door running like his life depended on it. He reached the hospital and then sobbed as his girlfriend lay pale and wrinkled in a hospital bed. He stroked her ebony hair and prayed.

***

Weeks had passed and April had forgotten about the incident. The door chimes and she looked up with a sigh. It was him! She got ready to have a go at him and stopped short. His face a constellation of pores and cheeks flushed a bright red. He flung down a mass of coins and notes onto the counter.
“Take it! I have nothing to live for anymore.” He said. April stood she’ll shocked as he walked out of the store, hunched and alone. She was wracked with grief, she knew that she’d never jump to conclusions again. She quickly took off her apron and rushed after him.

The Ice-cream Man

The streets were lined with perfect white fences. The cottages were lined with bushes. People of all ages and ethnicity roamed the neighbourhood. Everything was perfect. We walked up our pale white path. The grass was cut in a perfectly straight 90 degree angle. My ragtag family entered the house and immediately chaos started. My sister immediately got out her paintbrush and gave the white, slate of a wall a splash of bright purple. My youngest brother Darren ran upstairs and started jumping on his bed.  I rushed to my room and plugged my headphones into my phone, Classical music flooded in, pushing away all disaster. Why did my family have to be so weird?

Suddenly a noise fluctuated the silence. It was the noise of an ice-cream truck. We rushed outside, ignoring the catastrophe that was our house, desperate for sugar. People walked quickly into their houses, glancing nervously behind them. Locks clicked and doors shut.

“Mummy, where are they going?” ask my sister, hands smothered with purple paint. My mother shrugged in return. My siblings and I rushed towards the van as fast as we could. It stopped and the window opened revealing a grinning figure. I stepped back, his grin seemed too forced. The street was silent, even the birds had stopped singing their sweet melodies. Mum ordered the ice-creams as I tapped my foot impatiently, I wanted to go back to the house despite the messiness that was present there. A voice erupted from a loudspeaker.

“You must be purged! Messiness is not tolerated!” screamed a voice. Figures dressed in black emerged from the inside of the van. I screamed and began to run. Bullets rushed past me, missing by inches. My breath was short and my side screamed in agony, I desperately needed to stop.

“Helpppp!” I screamed as footsteps echoed not far behind.

“Somebody help me!” I screamed again, voice croaking with strain. I reached a dead end and desperately clawed at the wall. My life couldn’t end like this. The figures walked closer and closer. I feel to the ground clutching at my head, desperate to protect myself.

“Scanning,” cried a robotic voice as a blue light passed over my hunched figure.

“Negative.” It said. The figures slowly backed away, one by one until I was left alone. Messiness was a sin, I was alone without a family, surrounded by insane people. What was I meant to do?

I put my headphones in and the perfectly timed, no faults, piece began to play. I yanked them out. I longed for the erratic screams from my siblings, for a splash of colour on my clothes, even a snapped mattress, broken from jumps of joy.

I would never be tidy again …

 

THANKS FOR READING!

Four things –

  1. Feel free to continue this story. I will happily post your continued version onto my blog. I would love to read someone’s continued version!! (HINT HINT!)
  2. Thanks to http://writing-prompt-s.tumblr.com/ who provided me with this prompt. Feel free to check them out if you need ideas on what to write.
  3. This got a lot darker than I expected it to
  4. Remember; not all ice-cream truck people are friendly (lol) 🙂