-
"Frank, honey..." Her voice trailed off, and she did her best to smile despite the mascara running down her face. She cupped her son's cheeks, before lightly patting his head with her hand.1
-
-
"I'm fine, dad." Everything is all fine and dandy. It's not like I don't want to be here. I really, really, want to be in this stupid -
-
I want to scream and scream, not to hold anything back and to let tears come as they will; but you won't let me, you have deserted me again - keeping within distance but denying me the truth, the truth that I did try and kill
-
-
You really should not be opening doors unless you are invited in.
-
I find a way to relate paper to my life, which may or may not make sense or be too literal.
-
In which, I dare to think about the day I tried to kill myself, but failed.
-
Is there nothing more beautiful than rain?
-
A princess and a human boy share a kiss.
-
How unhappy is he who cannot forgive himself.1
-
Everyone loved Henry. Jake certainly did not.
-
A father rules his family. The son is ruled by his father. The son does not disrespect.
-
Alfred Wilt was going to be a great plastic surgeon one day. He would make himself handsome and turn the rest of the crowd into the ugly mo
-
The man drove his beloved mother away.
-
She was obviously a bad hero.
-
I tried, honestly. I was not cut out for it. Maybe I was not meant to be happy.
-
Character Name: Gregory Bell1
-
All the little critters, with pincers for limbs and razors for teeth, burrow in the folds of my fleshy cranium. They scurry, like a cross between spiders and mice, with their multiple appendages. Their mouths ooze drool, suck
-
-
My viewpoint on my life, and basically, me ranting.
-
-
'They may have been her little slaves, but he was her one and only pet.'1
-
It was a harmless question, from an innocent, short boy. When she turned to face the boy, she saw her daughter's eyes - they were dark gree
-
She Will Be Loved - Maroon 51
-
My fist connected with Jane's face, causing her to stumble backwards and her eyes to roll to the back of her head. I was met with her lime green stilettos aimed at my neck, and I quickly ducked.1
-
-
-
-
There was rain and the train tracks underneath her back. She clutched her chest in pain, shivering uncontrollably from the cold, and willed the vision-blurring migraine to dissipate. Emotions had abandoned her, and there she
-
They had met on New Year's Eve - or New Year's Day, whichever day it was. It had been at a friend's party, Kristie Mason's New Year's party to be exact, underneath the stars with fireworks and booze. She was a junior in high
-
-
-
-
This is: The Art of Writing's Ninth Picture Choice.
|
|