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*Diverse Creation* My Stories

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[06 Jun 2005|02:30pm]

[ mood | artistic ]

I place a hand to my chest and I wonder for a brief moment why my shirt is wet and sticky. That's when I notice the crimson elixir of life draining slowly down my breasts. I stare in horrific amazement at how bright it is compared to my fingertips. When I fall to the floor, it's as if in slow motion, the dull pain in my knees and back barely noticable. I take deep shallow breaths but to no avail. I close my eyes. I know I'm dying.
I see my life repeat itself, flashes of days and moments gone past. I've become a spectator of my actions and emotions that I no longer have control over. I see a small child recieving a bear on her birthday. She smiles, her two front teeth are missing. Now I can see and older girl of 10, listening on the steps to her parents arguing, knowing, just like them, that their perfect existance would come crashing around her. An akward 13 year old, fumbling with her first kiss. A lively teenager, losing her virginity, madly in love, and believing they will be together forever. A young woman preparing for college leaving her friends and the boy she thought she loved behind. The pain of an abusive relationship, and the courage to leave as she emerges from school, out on her own; her own place, her own job, her own life. Falling in and out of love and living the life she wanted, until her last memory: Waking to a strange noise in the middle of the night.
Now I open my eyes to see the barrel of a gun. Tears stream down my face as a loud shot is heard in the dark.
And then everything fades to black.

~* Write Me*~

currently untitled [28 Apr 2005|03:58pm]

[ mood | amused ]

You feel stupid don’t you? Here you are, sitting all alone, sunglasses dulling the harsh light being cast down on you. What kind of idiot sits, waiting alone in her car? A woman on a mission, a stake-out, that’s who. A woman desperately hoping that her friend was wrong.
“No!” You shake your head, “He loves me! He wouldn’t do that to me, not after all he said, all we’ve been through!” You nod your head trying to reinforce what you just said.
Who are you kidding? You know he’s been acting weird lately. Late night calls on his cell phone. His sudden obsession with looking “buff”. Hell, he bought new underwear! When he walks out of the store across the street, you stop breathing. Dear Heart, Prepare to Shatter. XOXO.
But wait! He walks out alone. A glimmer of hope! You knew what your friend said was wrong; he would never cheat on you. You feel yourself break into nervous laughter for being a stupid, stupid woman.
“Look!” your inner voice cries. “He does love me! He even bought me a sign of affection. You put the key in the ignition and start the car, looking back up at him.
“But why is he just standing there?” You ask leaning forward. That’s when you see her. The overly skinny, leggy blonde that has been haunting your nightmares for the last week.
You’re clutching the steering wheel so tightly your knuckles are turning white. Ease up girl. There has got to be an explanation for this! Right? They’re hugging. His sister? No, he doesn’t have one, at least he never mentioned an obscenely beautiful female sibling.
Niece? She looks young enough to be one. But his brother doesn’t have children. He’s not even married yet! You think of all the family you met in the last two years. He has cousins in Beverly Hills that you haven’t met yet. That must be it!
He’s hugging his cousin! Perfectly innocent. Wait something still doesn’t feel right. You don’t usually hug a family member that long. But why is he touching her ass now? Well his family has always been weird, remember the uncle that tried to feel you up on Thanksgiving? They’re just joking, has to be. But then that doesn’t explain what they’re doing now!
Now, you’ve heard of kissing cousins, but this is ridiculous! This is full on, horny primal making out. In the middle of the fucking sidewalk! When was the last time he kissed you like that? When was the last time he even touched you? It all makes sense now doesn’t it? That isn’t his cousin; it’s some man stealing bimbo! Or does she even know you exist? You look down at your t-shirt and fading jeans. Oh yeah, like he’s going to broadcast this to the universe.
You’re still staring at them. It would be so easy to just pull out and run them over on the sidewalk. You can see the headlines now “Disgruntled Girlfriend Runs Over Cheating Scum Boyfriend and Barbie Look Alike Whore.” Who are you kidding? You don’t have the balls to do anything do you? You sigh and rest your head on the steering wheel, releasing it of your death grip. You sure can pick winners, can’t you darling?

~* Write Me*~

I'm tired of dreaming about you [18 Nov 2004|12:52pm]

I’m tired of dreaming about you.
It’s been a long time since I last saw you. That was the last time we would ever see each other as lovers. The last time you would smile and tuck a stray hair behind my ear. The last time I would giggle while we sit in the back of my best friends’ car, singing along with the radio. Even though you hated that song. It would be the last time we hugged under the streetlamp and the last time you’d tell me you loved me. It was the last time you would kiss me, and let it linger, even though my friends joked and made cooing noises in the background. The last time you would look longingly into my eyes and tell me you could never be without me. That was the best birthday of my life.
But now I sit alone in my car listening to our song, crying in the back seat. You aren’t here to hold me or sing along. It’s been almost two months since my birthday that I shared with you, with everyone I loved. It’s been one month since I called you and you said it would be better if we were just friends.
“Maybe I’ll fall in love with you all over again.”
Or maybe not.
There are no more forevers, no more “soul mates”, no more making love and holding me for long hours, saying you never want to let me go. No more I love you.
In my car I sleep, listening to our song, dreaming of you. Dreaming of what we use to have, dreaming of all the things you promised me. Dreaming of how you used to kiss me, the feeling you left on my body. I awaken, crying, because I was dreaming of you.
I’m tired of dreaming about you.
~* Write Me*~

“Untitled” [13 Aug 2004|01:51pm]

[ mood | content ]

She hugged herself as she danced around the flame. Her hair blew wildly in the wind and was only uplifted by her sensual movements in the night. She raised her hands to the sky and let out a joyous cry. Finally she was free.
Her bare skin was glowing, her feet moved in time with the music that played only for her. Always for her. Her smile was so radiant that the shining of the moon paled in comparison. This is what it is like to be free.
They smoke swirled and danced, wishing to be a partner of this amazing creature. But she would always dance alone. Destined to dance alone.
The fire burned down slowly and she sat on the rocks staring into the embers. Her flushed cheeks were stained with fresh tears. Freedom was a beautiful thing. The fire died down completely, she walked through the woods, moonlight revealing her path. Leading her to her destination.
She walks along the banks; her naked flesh was illuminated by the water and the moon. She looked like a spirit, tragic and haunting. The water was cool and she slowly immersed herself, moving farther and farther away from the world she once knew. Farther and farther she went, gliding like an angel.
Freedom will always come with a terrible price.

~* Write Me*~

In The Rain [11 Aug 2004|04:19pm]

[ mood | calm ]

The lights went out and she struck a match, lighting the many candles in the room. The storm has been brewing for hours and it was about to break.
He’ll be coming soon.
She walked to the living room windows and the sky flashed with light.
The rain had finally come. She sat on the windowsill holding her knees, remembering that day.
‘You look so beautiful…'
The wind rose, blowing her curtains around her, as if she were encased in velvet.
‘Don’t keep me waiting.’
His skin felt like silk.
Thunder rumbled. It seemed as if the world was shaking. But it was only her that moved. She saw headlights down the road. Coming towards her home. Towards her. They slowly moved in front of her house.
‘Never forget me…’
She ran down the dark stair, flung open the door.
The car drove past the house and made its way down the long, lonely street.
‘I want this to never end…’
She sat on the stoop head in here hands, crying. He wasn’t going to come. And then his footsteps came up the walk. She ran towards him and threw her arms around his warm, wet body.
“I thought…” He placed a finger on her lips. His eyes said not to say a word.
She led him inside and they slowly peeled off their wet clothes. As he lay in bed with her he whispered. ‘I always come.’
He always comes in the rain.

~* Write Me*~

My adventures in babysitting [11 Aug 2004|01:45pm]

I’m an 18 year old female and I’m out of work. I got fired from the Pizza Parlor, because; well let’s just say I was making a special kind of pizza with the delivery boy. I quit my job as the waitress because dirty old men kept grabbing my ass during happy hour. Pigs. And my most recent job, at the bookstore, was great. I really liked it. The only problem was I called my boss an ignorant schmuck, and here I am. Jobless.
So as I was walking down the street getting ready to go brood in my room, I ran into Mrs. Wilkenson. We had a nice friendly chat and I mentioned my recent job loss.
“Oh I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, it’s ok, I’ll bounce back.”
“Well if you aren’t doing anything tomorrow night, would you mind babysitting? My husbands out of town and I’m going out with a bunch of my girlfriends.”
“Well, I don’t know…”
“We’ll be out most of the night and I’ll give you $10 an hour.”
She must be desperate. But, how can I say no?
“What time?”
So it’s the next day and I’m getting ready to go to the Wilkensons’. Packing the necessities in my bag: My cell phone, my journal, a book, pens, my headphones, and a bunch of other junk. I mean, babysitting a little 5 year old is going to be pretty boring, right? So I walked down the street to their house. Walked up the driveway and rang the door bell. And so begins my adventure.
“Hi Mrs. Wilkenson. How are you?”
“Oh I’m good! I see you’re here early. That’s great! Let me just get Mary and I’ll leave you too alone!”
“Ok…” I put my bag down in the living room and I sit down. I see all these pictures of Mr. and Mrs. Wilkenson and their daughter Mary. They seem like a really happy family.
“Mary, this is your babysitter. Say hello.”
“Hi! Are you going to play wif me?!”
“Um…yeah.” She took me by the hand and started to pull me across the room.
“I see you are getting along smoothly! Bed time is 9 pm. See you in a few hours!” And then we were alone.
“Let’s PLAY!”
She dragged me into this room, which I’m assuming is her playroom. There were toys lining the walls and all these posters of Barbie and all this other stuff. She sat in the middle of the room and I sat too. I guess we’re going to play.
“We gonna play Barbies! You be Ken and I’ll be Barbie and Kelly. We gonna eat dinner ok?”
So she pulls out this dining room set and sits her dolls down. I walk in with the Ken doll and start talking in a faux man voice.
“Hullo honey. How are you? Dinner smells great!”
Mary looked at me like I had three heads
“Daddy doesn’t talk to Mommy when he comes to eat dinner.”
“Oh ok.” So I sit daddy down and pretend to have him eat.
“No! You’re playing wrong! Gimme!”
She took the doll away and sat him in the chair. Now this is where it gets interesting.
Mary took over the role of Daddy and the family has their dinner.
“So, dear,” Barbie says, “ How is your hore?”
I stopped Mary for a minute.
“Where’d you hear that word?”
“From Mommy.”
“Ok…” She continues playing.
"Alice there is no need to talk like that in front of Mary.
“Know I want Mary to know what a dick her daddy is.”
“Well if we’re gonna talk like this, how bout you tell Mary bout your twist with the gardener.”
I stop her again.
“Twist? Do you mean tryst?”
“Ya! Twist!”
She starts again.
“How dare you! It’s not my fault your important, how do you keep it up fo your hore?”
I stopped Mary for a moment.
"Mary do you mean impotent?"
“Mary, is this how you always play dinner?”
“Yes! Isn’t it fun?”
“Um, yeah…”
And we played Barbie’s all through the night.
Her mom came home at 3 am.
“Your a lifesaver! Thanks again.” She paid me with a little bit extra.
“Was she bad?”
“No, I actually learned a lot from her.”
“Would you watch her again?”
“Sure, anytime.” Anytime.
~* Write Me*~

“Fortune Tellers Aren’t Bad After All” [11 Aug 2004|12:23pm]

[ mood | blah ]

The shop was dark, dank and smoky. Candles were lit everywhere, and the smell of lavender incense overtook the room. No electrical light would ever make its way into this sanctum. I waited in silence examining my surroundings. Whoever this woman was she must have traveled the world.
“Why am I even here?”
That was a good question. She shouldn’t be, she was late in seeing someone.
“Diana?” A woman appeared from behind the curtain.
“Um…uh…yes?” Diana was startled.
“Mistress Esmeralda will see you now.”
Diana walked towards the woman to enter the next room.
‘How did she know my name?’ She thought.
“You filled out the name card, that’s how I knew.” Diana stopped in her tracks and slowly looked behind her. The mysterious lady was gone.
“Well fuck me.” Diana said.
“There is no need for that kind of profanity in my shop, Diana.” A woman’s voice called her from behind the velvet curtain, “Please, come and sit.”
A walk behind the curtain was like walking into another dimension. Silk covered the walls. Unique tapestries hung throughout the large room. Shelves filled with unique statuettes and crystals run the lengths of both sides of the room.
“Please sit, you have an interesting aura surrounding you.”
I sit, fearful that this old woman might put a hex on me, or shrink my head and hung me as a wall decoration.
“You have nothing to fear my child.” She took out this package wrapped in black satin. Unwrapping it slowly, she revealed an old, worn set of cards.
“The Tarot?” I asked. The old woman smiled warmly at me.
“Yes.” She paused, “Do you have any particular concerns? Questions that you want me to concentrate on?”
I thought for a moment. I couldn’t think of anything deep or important so I simply asked, “What will love have in store for me?”
The woman took a deep breath and started to maneuver her hands over the worn deck. It looked like it belonged in centuries past.
She handed me the deck. “Shuffle the cards until you feel they are in the right position.”
I shifted the heavy cards through my hands, not knowing how I will know when it was the right time to stop.
“You’ll know when it is time.”
Did she just say that? Or am I simply going crazy.
Suddenly a shiver went through her spine preventing her hands from moving. This is how she knew.
She placed the deck in the middle of the table and stared.
“Let us begin.”
A few shuffling movements later, her cards were spread onto the marble table top.
“I will do the three card spread. You seem a bit anxious and I don’t want to keep you waiting. Or him.”
“Your first card represents your past, what you have been through, what has happened, your environment, etc. etc.”
“The Lovers: but it’s reversed. You have had a difficult past with love. He cheated on you with another woman who was also close to you. This caused a disharmony, which seems to have not been fixed until recently. Deception was a huge part of that relationship, whether it was intentional or unintentional, both parties were at fault.
“Your second card which is directly related to your present; The King of Wands. Is see you have a new man in your life. He is generous, reliable, and is never hesitant with you. But because of your past you find it difficult to try and trust him, as much as you want to.” She smiled and looked at me, “He is an honest soul and genuinely loves you. There is only one flaw; he acts without hesitating. This might cause one ore two problems, but nothing serious.
“Your last card is what will happen in your future.” She looked at the card and was semi-shocked, “The very near future it seems: The Empress: Card of Domestic Tranquility and Maternal care. I see marriage and children in your future. You will have a steady life with this man, and have two beautiful children. And whatever goal you were trying to achieve will grant you and your family great happiness. You have a lovely life to lead, Diana.”
I paid her and I walked out of the shop. I felt uplifted and much happier than before. I met my boyfriend after it and told him of the whole experience. He laughed and hugged me, and said he wish he could of gotten to me first. That’s when he purposed.
I guess Fortune Tellers aren’t so bad after all.

~* Write Me*~

"Happy Pills" [09 Aug 2004|04:03pm]

[ mood | confused ]

Ever since I was a little kid, mom always took her pills.
"They keep mommy happy honey. So I can play with you!"
Her smile was warm.
I remember her pillbox in the very back of her nightstand drawer. My sister and I would always sneak and look at them.
"Its like a rainbow!"
How I miss childhood innocence.
Looking at the colors made me feel happy, and my mother downing 3 or 4 of them with a glass of Vodka made her happy too. But as I grew older, mom wasn't really as energetic as she used to be.
"Mom are you ok?"
"Mom why are all the lights out?"
"They'll see me."
The lights click on.
"Damnit Claire!" Slap.
Valium, Vicadine, Perkaset, Speed. All with a glass of vodka.
"...keep mommy happy..."
The glass was at her feet, and the rainbow laid scattered across the rug. EMS whisper around me.
"...poor girl..."
"...mother's a degenerate..."
"...no hope to save her..."
The vodka stains the bedroom rug.
And I get lost in the swirls of a rainbow.

~* Write Me*~

Untitled [07 Aug 2004|12:06am]

[ mood | cold ]

Yeah, kind of a ripoff im sorry

The theatre was quiet. A strange man sat next to me all in white, holding a small bottle. They were all sitting in the back row, staring, waiting for a heads up from the man next to me. He stands up, opens the bottle, and hovers over me.
Drip, drip.
The images dance before my eyes. A girl, no older than me, selling herself on the street corner.
A man standing behind a building, selling crack to minors.
A woman, murdering her husband.
A pedophile, taking advantage of a four year old girl. The last thing you can see is him grabbing her blonde pigtails.
Drip, drip.
I trash in my seat, unable to move. I can’t close my eyes. And more and more streams of images fill my mind.
“NO! Please stop!”
Women being raped and murdered. Men dying in senseless acts of violence. War, crime, abuse. This is what our world is made of. There is no good. There never has been. The realization makes me sick.
Drip, drip.
“Please...I’m begging you stop this!” The tears come freely now. “Please…”
“That’s enough!” a man calls from behind. The screen goes black. I am freed from my holdings. I kneel on the floor, crying and vomiting. A man approaches me throwing a towel at me.
“For god’s sake clean yourself up.”
I wipe my face and dry my tears. I stand up and stare him in the face.
“How do you feel?”
“Terrible…absolutely terrible.” I look down at the floor.
He grunted and held out his hand.
“Congratulations young lady. You’re the first step in forming our perfect society. Smith hand her the eye drops so she can see properly.
Drip, Drip.
Flashbulbs go off, and people are waving microphones in our face. They cleaned me up, made me a model citizen. My hair went from blue to blonde, tattoos removed. There is no inclination that I was a free spirit, my own person. I am a model citizen, the perfect person.
“Miss! How do you feel after this transformation?”
“I feel like a brand new person, I couldn’t be happier.”
“Do you believe that with this method people will form a perfect society?”
“Yes I do.”
More people create a perfect, new society?
They are wrong.
I will make the society.
I am the society.

~* Write Me*~

“My Lucky Day” [06 Aug 2004|10:07pm]

[ mood | busy ]

It’s Friday night, my room is trashed and I’m in a horrible mood. The landlady’s bitching about rent. I have it; I just like to piss her off. Besides, I’m spending my money on more important things. Like good ol’ California snow. My stash is gone, and so is my girl. Never trust anything that bleeds for five days and doesn’t die.
I jump in my car, hoping I can catch my friend on the corner. Start her up, and she dies. This is a perfect day. Looks like I’m walking.
I make my way walking down the 40 blocks to my destination. Ran into my girl; She was high as a goddamn kite. Keeps telling me how she wants me. I’m flattered, but she’s high on my stash. Fuck her. Keep walking.
Almost there, 20 blocks left. Some asshole runs his car into a puddle. Now I’m soaked. Delayed 10 minutes trying to dry my clothes in the Chinese Restaurant Bathroom. Called my guy and told him I’d be there soon, told him to save me some snow.
“No problem.” Click.
Ten blocks down. Five blocks. Two. I see my guy talking to Joe. I hate Joe. Hands him the goods. Walks away. I’m feeling better knowing I’ll be flying over The city of angels.
“Where’s my stuff?”
“Gone man. Gone.”
Now I’m pissed.
“What the fuck do you mean gone? I told you to save me some!”
“Hey; He made me an offer I couldn’t refuse.”
I look over to the assholes direction. Another shithead that stole my stuff. Took all my strength not to go over there and kill him. I really hate Joe.
So people have all the fucking luck.
I start walking up the block. That’s when I hear the sirens, the yelling. Look back and see Joe being cuffed by a pig. Possesion of illegal substance. Tomorrow I will read that they also found the weapon in Joe’s car of a rape/murder that happened two weeks ago. But not yet. Now I smile.
I walk back up the street. Guy that splashed me ran into a lightpost. Walked further and saw my girl. She still has some stash for me. I love her all over again. Go back to the apartment with her and find out landlady’s dead of a heartattack.
Looks like this my lucky day.

~* Write Me*~

"Notches" [06 Aug 2004|10:07pm]

[ mood | cold ]

It's three in the morning and I lay on my back listening to the sounds of the city. The sounds of you breathing next to me.
I roll to my side and watch your chest rise and fall, glittering with sweat. I smile and trace a finger along your neck.
It's such a shame.
I turn towards my nightstand and think of my conquests; A doctor , a lawyer, a painter, the list goes on. Your just another notch in the bedpost.
It's such a shame.
I reach in my drawer. Past the condoms, the cigarettes, the pills, I find my post-coital tool. I take it out of its silk wrapping and watch it glint in the city lights. I smile and run my finger along the edge.
It's such a shame.
I straddle your body and lick my lips. I remember their screams, the look in their eyes. All more arousing then the last. You remind me of Billy. My first. A young arrogant jock who wanted a ride in his daddy's BMW. He was my favorite. You remind me of him.
It's such a shame.
I kiss your salty lips and your eyes flutter. I straighten myself and you smile. I love it when they smile.
It's such a ashame.
The blade digs into your chest easily. The red emerges. pooling around my beautiful knife. Your eyes sparkle as another slash and another ruin your perfect chest. You scream and shivers run through my body, making me scream with you. And then all was silent. I stare into your black. lifeless eyes and kiss your bloodstained lips. I am covered in you.
It's such a shame.
Your life drips off my breasts as I reach for my cigarette. Breathing in the sweet toxins makes this all worth while. There is blood on my cigarette. I look over and exhale embedding my blade on the headbord. Just another notch in the bed post.
It's such a shame.

~* Write Me*~

[06 Aug 2004|09:36pm]

[ mood | chipper ]

Welcome to my writing journal ^-^
I hope you enjoy my work

if anyone wants to join with there stories please feel free!


~*There was 1 storie written Write Me*~

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