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Good to Be BadIt was like watching a movie.
A movie in which the film was tainted yellow and stained with age. The sheets along the reel,
burnt along the edges and flickering in and out of function, just enough for the picture to make sense.
A woman was the subject. This woman who was young and spry and loved nothing more than a good time.
She was a socialite, if you were being polite. Each party she hosted in her deceased mother's home was like wildfire, people pouring out of the doors and windows. They would shriek and shout and laugh and hoot on and on until the very crack of dawn. This woman loved every second, indulging herself carelessly in sex, drugs and bottle after bottle of spirits without even thinking.
She became very well known for her recklessness.
Everyone knew her, but she had no friends, no spouse, or any children of her own.
Her mother was the last ray of companionship, but even then, the woman was too wrapped up in her social life to grieve the loss.
One fateful night, as music bl
“For the six millionth time, yes. I am blind.”
“If blind, why wear glasses?” A French brunette sat against the hips of a pink headed boy who had made himself comfortable sitting cross-legged on the floor. She gingerly pushed said glasses up farther on the boy’s nose.
“I don’t know, Patrice, would you like everyone treating you like a cripple?” Ender said gruffly, placing down his book. He wrapped his arms round her waist as she wound her legs round his.
Patrice chose to ignore his question and produce another of her own.
“If blind, how can read?”
“I just can.”
“You stupid, you cannot read. You lie.” Patrice-Jacques said, frustrated. “Is impossible.”
“I can take off my own head. I can read if I want to.” Ender grumbled. “What’s it to you?”
“You read to ignore me,” stated the French girl simply. “You read to ign
Jerk AlertThe trees that surrounded the House were dull and lifeless. Grey and brown leaves littered and blew across the dead grass. It was around the end of Autumn and nothing was going on. None of the Oddjects seemed to have any energy to do anything. Not even Hayley, who was basically energy itself.
Rain puttered against the windowpane. It was sound, steady and sleepy enough to lull anyone into deep dreams of lazy gray days.
No one bothered to talk, no one bothered to go outside.
Tony sat at the table with a newspaper and a cup of steaming tea. He glanced across the table to Hayley, who was playing Angry Birds on her palm in her immense boredom.
The puppets had chosen to go camping, leaving all Oddjects with nothing to kill, and nothing to satisfy their testy tempers.
"This is really boring," muttered Hayley in a tone that would make Harry proud.
Ender glanced up from where he stood reading in the kitchen by the warm furnace outlet.
Tony huffed and set down his teacup. "No, I ag
Even in the Storm, Leave the Light On"But it's a quarter to..!!"
"I DON'T CARE!!" shrieked an angry lamp Oddject. "I don't CARE what time it is!"
"How can you not care about the time?!" The blue clock man screeched.
"I'll tell you somethin' pal!" spat Liam, "The sun tells me what time it is! The sun has told time since before it even began!!"
Tony opened his mouth to blurt a comeback, but nothing was coming out.
"I'm right aren't I?!" He sneered, "You know I'm right! I don't need your bloody clocks and wristwatches! I know damn well what the time is!"
Tony's left eye twitched.
"Fine, fine! Whatever! You're right! Now go away!" He waved his gloved hand dismissively.
"I will!" Liam shouted and stormed outside, slamming the door so hard, the house rattled.
Perched outside on the front stoop, Francine reclined lazily against the threshold. Her eyes had been shut in a light nap, but they snapped open when she felt the tremor caused by Liam's door-slamming rage.
She sat herself up when he stalked onto the porch.
Liam pulled a s
Consequences of Our Actions"It's a horrible process, a horrible experience, and more often than not, a horrible outcome."
Was that a lie?
It very well could've been.
After what happened with her?
He didn't even want to think about trying it on anyone else.
All he remembered was the white hot flash of pain, the shriek and the promise.
The promise to never do it ever again.
"Memories make you into who you are. If you lose yours, you'll change. I don't want you to change, you're my friend. You're perfect as you are."
He was too afraid to admit that to himself at the time. He was a coward. Burned an empty hole into her mind, just to save his own skin.
A horrible process.
He remembered how she paled and cried and begged for him not to. She wept and wailed and told him over and over she'd stay quiet.
Oh, how it hurt him to see her that way.
But he couldn't bear it.
The whites in her eyes turned towards him as it he and all their talks and jokes and arguments faded away from her memor
Just Relaxa boy was crying at his desk.
A tall man with narrow shoulders loomed over him like a shadow
"FIX IT." he bellowed, jamming a finger to the boy's head.
"I'm t-trying...!!" he whispered through his tears.
"You call that FIXING?! You're making it worse!"
"You pathetic excuse for a child!"
The man raised a hand to strike the boy.
Ender jolted awake with a sharp breath. He sat up in bed so violently, he nearly tumbled out of the sheets. Beads of cold sweat trickled down his temples and the back of his neck.
His room was dead silent. The only thing to be heard was his heart hammering against his chest. His breaths were shaking and shallow.
What a nightmare...
Ender thought he'd pushed those memories out.
But no, his subconscious had brought them back to the surface.
The eraser curled up into a ball, his head between his knees. He gripped his hair as his shoulders still jerked with trembles.
After a moment, he relaxed and slowly pushed his legs over th
UntitledA bloody mess in the room
Oops I'm sorry
I killed the groom
Sobs and cries everywhere
I smile happily
And loves the despair
Somber faces on the field
Smirk upon my victory
Broken hearts won't be healed
Stroke the frills of her dress
The white now turned crimson with my work
One more life made less...
The place where they were to be married
The caskets were laid
Soon to be buried...
CasketSkin that splinters by day and burns by night,
Shaking in the corner where wailing voices echo,
Itching the skin until blood spills,
Will it ever ease the tension?
Skin that trembles by day and shudders by night,
Vomiting in the corner where crows shrieking echoes,
Coughing until blood reaches the throat,
Will it ever ease the agony?
You can hear the sky ringing, ringing with the sounds of war
The ground has turned to ash, cinders left behind by these fucking monkeys
Monkeys and their petty quarrels
You can feel, you hear the sound of burning
A world destroyed by a race who was left behind to care for it
Humans and their ridiculous fighting, the never ending fighting
The ghosts take you into the space betwixt spaces, and you can see all
You begin to live vicariously, watching through the eyes of another
And when one pair of eyes goes dark, you find another
And like this, you witness the fall of empires
The destruction of nations
The end of all
You watch as society collapses and rots
You watch as worms devour all
And the snakes start to sing
Bloodlust.This world is merciless,
Cruel, unforgiving, and worthless.
But at the same time the world is amazing,
Wonderful, forgiving, and breath taking.
The cruel is what I see almost all the time,
The breath taking side is so rare its almost a crime,
People bully and hurt others for fun,
When you're in the corner and covered in their tall shadows its hard to see the sun.
What doesn't make sense is the innocents are always afraid of these people,
What makes even less sense is they believe the things that turn out to be so evil,
I hope the people who call them names and push them down know that they might be alone,
I hope they know that those mean bullies make them feel like they have no one to turn too, that they're on their own,
I think that the people who get hurt don't stand up for themselves because they're afraid,
Its weird how someone can be afraid of a peer yet not be afraid of a blade,
Sometimes I wonder why other people bully the innocents why the make them go through so much pain,
Colours of DepressionWhite as blinded,
Red like hellfire,
Crimson like blood,
Orange like fire,
Grey as clouded,
Yellow as faded...
Green like conspire,
Blue as flooded,
Purple as haunted,
Black has shrouded...
Murder is FUN.Lets watch them burn,
Lets watch them die,
Lets throw them in a ditch.
Lets cut their eyes,
Lets watch them cry,
Lets get away with it.
Murder is mesmerizing,
Murder is fun,
Murder is what I have done.
Murder is here,
Murder is pure,
Murder brings out fear,
I love blood,
I love death,
I love killing them and meth,
Today is a good day,
Today they shall die,
Today no one shall ask why.
Lets watch them burn,
Lets watch them die,
Lets throw them in a ditch.
Lets cut their eyes,
Lets watch them cry,
Because murder is fun,
... and I love it.
Whispers in the DarknessWhispers in the Dark*
This night has stirred
It is not as quiet as I thought
In the distance ahead
There came a voice
A whisper in the darkness
It said, "The Old Ones were.
The Old Ones are.
The Old Ones shall be."
Whose voice it is I know not
Nor do I care to know.
Some things are best
When left unknown.
*The Whisperer in the Darkness, Nyarlathotep, by H P Lovecraft
The little ones stay in their beds and say good night to their day. They snuggle into the sheets and hope to dream sweet dreams. The moon shone through the window and the pillows are fluffed just right. Sleep would take them very soon this night. A creak in the house, the wind through the chimes. Taking their turns with rhythm and rhymes. The child’s smile fades as he drifts even deeper. Not thinking quite clearly of creaks creaking closer.
When the Night comes close don’t open your eyes. When the Night comes close to sing sweet lullabies; to whisper the sleep into your ears. Don’t whip open your eyes because then you will see. To fear the Night is to fear me
Okay poem written by nine year old meCreeps a lot
If you take a moment,
To listen very closely.
You would hear something,
Which you would regret.
Take three steps backwards,
On a one-step road.
See what the Crocodile's
Wish to tell you.
Why do you look so funny?
With a sword upon your head?
Like a crown of heros?
No, no...whisper why?
Who shall be the next to die?
Take three, take another.
Hold on tight for no other.
Hush and Shush,
Cease to speak.
There is a monster
In this sleep.
Silly old clown
Why must you smile and never frown?
Questions child, are no use,
Any one may see.
I may smile for a while,
But frown when you ask me.
Cut across a silly face,
Looking through the heart.
One more thing, go away.
If you wish to see.
Now the child asks no more,
His mind grown a-weary.
From the scary face of fright.
Leaves his bones a-teary.
These creepy crawlies in the halls,
Children peering through the walls,
Speaking in tongues of demons that sing
Creeps a lot, wither and
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scheinbar is a much-loved and well-known deviant. Just one look at her gallery, filled with enchanting photography, will have you mesmerized. A deviant for over 7 years, Christiane can always be found posting inspirational features as well as regularly commenting on other deviations and encouraging and empowering her fellow deviants. We are inspired and insist that you too stop by and congratulate ... Read More