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Acrophobia. Yes; that’s the word; the fear of heights; or, in my case, the fear of falling. I blame this on my older brother, Quinton. When we were younger, he told me that if I jumped off the swings high enough, I’d be able
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I want to tell you a story, a story that has never been told, the story of my family. 1
by Dark-Moon-Enid 300 words, 2 comments, on Sep 19 5:41 PM. In Dark, Depression, Grief, Inspirational, Life, Pain, Sorrow -
This is why she sings.
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Weeping willow hear my cry1
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Clenching on the chair leg, bleeding on the floor. Grief over taking your body. Thats what happens when you cut.
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Seventeen-year-old Peter Daniels woke up with a terrible start. He was dreaming about her again. He was dreaming that she was walking acros
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I stare down the blank page. It fills me with a fear which I've never felt before. Exhilaration, yes, fear, no. Fear's a new one on me. I've never felt fear or indifference towards my writing. In fact, it used to be less a li
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A piece about a friend who left.by musicalmousie 800 words, 2 comments, on Dec 25 8:22 PM 2008. In Death, Faith, Friendship, Grief, Life
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They left nothing unsaid. Even the unspoken words would be exchanged by just lying. There.by Lize 300 words, 2 comments, on Jun 10 11:00 AM 2008. In Aa, Adolscent love, Alcohol abuse, Alcoholism, Death, Friendship, Grief, Suicide
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Venice fairytales in Amsterdam1 / It’s not really big, but, well, usually I’m here, only accompanied by myself and someone that isn’t reallby Lize 1300 words, 1 comment, on Jun 5 2:37 PM 2008. In Amsterdam, Friendship, Grief, Imaginary friend, Runaway, Tragic
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A short intro to the character we'll follow throughout this story and his misery. (yup. It's an miserable story)by Lize 400 words, 2 comments, on May 28 10:12 AM 2008. In Aa, Adolscent love, Alcohol abuse, Alcoholism, Death, Friendship, Grief, Suicide
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It’s like a sickness, coursing through my veins. No, wrong; there is no “like”, it is a sickness. I’m ill, sick with grief. Just like if Iby Wildbluesun 500 words, 4 comments, on Oct 30 2:02 PM 2007. In , Death, Denial, First person, Grief, Mourning
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On the 3rd of December 1912, Samantha Chrissyi Jones was born. Only mintues after she was born her mother died due to excessive blood loss during child birth. Now Sam lived with her father in Texas. When Sam turned nine her father decided to tell her why
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Life was good…for the first time in a LONG time. I truly didn’t care if it got any better than it was at that time. I had begun to make plans for the summer, since the children would be gone to their father’s houses in Michigan. I had big plans on takinby Sacrificial Love 5800 words, 1 comment, on Apr 20 10:25 PM 2007. In Death, First person, Grief, Inspirational, Love, Spiritual
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A year and more on and it still haunted her. Those words she had for so long dreaded still echoed in her mind.
“It’s happening. She’s not
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