You sucked.

I thought you had 5 stars.

5 STARS.

Well...I didn’t make it past page 18!

Don’t criticize me.

I like writing.

I prefer that to reading.

I don’t read very often.

And here I am,

surrounded by writers,

Who love reading.

Well, what would they say?

Would it surprise you if....

If...the last chapter book I read, was about 2 years ago?

The young mind does fear what it can’t understand,

That much is hard to deny.

And we grown-ups still live in anxiety-land

When we focus on more than “get by.”

Even if not, our thought-addled minds strife;

To the fear of banal,

Or the loss of a pal;

To the terror of day-to-day life.

And after we’ve calmed;

Rolled our eyes and face-palmed;

Sucked our bottom lip up from it’s pout;

We think we’ve fine’ly got it all figured out.

Think we know; Done our hard-growin’ years.

But the truth can be worse than it outward appears.

What if we hide it too well?

Still, no reason (but is there?) to dwell.

After all, the worst fears are of fears.

...right?

1. I need to tell you something look at 5

2. The answer is look at 11

3. Don't get mad look at 15

4. Calm down don't be mad and look at 13

5. First look at 2

6. Don't be angry look at 12

7. All I wanted to say was hi

8. What I wanted to tell you was look at number 14

9. Just be patient look at number 4

10. This is the last time look at 7

11. I hope you're not mad when I say look at 6

12. Sorry look at 8

13. Just have a look at 10

14. I don't really know how to say this but look at 3

15. You really need to look at nine

I just wanted to take a moment to thank everyone who left a post on my recent challenge and/or shot me a message. I really, truly appreciate you all taking the time to reach out and try to help me.

When I first found Prose, I thought it was just another writing website. But every time I read posts and see people engaging with each other in the comments, I can see how Prose is more than a simple writing website. It's a tight-knit community that cares about all of its members; it's a family.

When I made that challenge, I was really nervous because it was the first time talking to anyone about my problems. I did not expect so many people being willing to help me, to which, again, I am very grateful.

Speaking of the challenge, the general consensus was for me to talk to my parents, or at least someone I trust. So... I'm gonna try and talk to my mom about it. Today I asked her if she would like to go out for breakfast sometime so we could talk. She said that would be nice. So that's my plan for right now. Not exactly sure what I'm gonna say, but I have time to at least make a list of things I should bring up while I have her complete attention.

Thank you all so much for helping me and pushing me closer to a better, happier me. I owe you guys a lot. :)

The sun was beginning to set, giving the gray city a pinkish hue. Toby scurried towards the alleyway that housed the entrance to his small hideaway. The last thing that he wanted was to be out on the streets of Geddich after dark. He glanced over his shoulder as he ducked between the scaffolding used to keep the sagging buildings upright. The metal creaked and groaned as the sun continued to set, almost as if the city itself was settling in for the night. Toby heard the unmistakable screeching sound as the city’s spies began to awaken and start their patrol. He needed to hurry.

He ignored the people surrounding him dressed as he was, in rags. He quickened his pace as he rounded the second to last bend before his hideaway, only to run right into a harkener.

“Well, well, well. Why are you in such a hurry you little faup?” the harkener sneered.

Toby could smell spirits on his breath, and knew that he had to tread very carefully if he wanted to come out of this situation unscathed.

“My mother sent me out for the rations over an hour ago, Sir. The line was long, and they were out by the time I reached the front,” Toby lied expertly. “I had to try to run across the gorge to see if they had any on that side. She’s going to tan my hide if I’m not back before dark.”

“Perhaps I should save her the trouble and tan your hide for her,” he grinned, revealing a yellow smile.

“I’d really rather you didn’t, Sir…” Toby glanced around him looking for anyone who might help him.

The few people who were left outside at this time of the evening refused to make eye contact. They were, just as Toby was, later getting home than they intended, and wanted to avoid trouble at all cost. The sky continued to grow darker as the smog obscured sun dipped lower towards the horizon. There were no street lights in this part of the city, as the regency didn’t want to encourage the people of Geddich being out past dusk. The harkeners would soon be relinquishing their posts to the more sinister spies used at night.

Toby looked up at the winding scaffolding that supported his world. The shiny and polished metal of Upper Supremus sparkled as the last bit of light from the retreating sun disappeared. The street lights illuminated far above him, giving Geddich an even darker feel.

“Please,” he pleaded with the Harkener, “just let me go.”

The Harkener released him, giving him a shove hard enough that his teeth knocked together as he crashed into the building behind him. He shook his head, trying to clear it of the ringing the impact had caused, and sprinted the rest of the way towards his safe haven. He did a full spin as he got closer to the rubble and wreckage that hid the lower entrance to his alleyway, making sure nobody was around. He ducked underneath a fallen pillar, squeezing through a tunnel of debris, crawling towards the clear space near the entrance to his home. Standing upright, he looked longingly towards the other entrance to his alley. The soft glow of the street lamps revealed how close to Upper Supremus he really was.

He reached his hands upwards, stretching to pull himself up onto the window ledge, pausing for an instant, looking both left and right to make sure he was alone in the narrow alleyway. Wiggling the middle two security bars free, he dropped his pack through the opening, sliding through after it, replacing the bars, and dropping into place the piece of cardboard he had hung when he had first found the hideout. The alleyway was easily accessible to anyone wandering the streets of Upper Supremus, but his home looked like any other abandoned building, and almost any citizen of Upper Supremus would hurry past. It was broken, deserted, and impervious.

He pulled his tattered, sweaty shirt over his head bringing his dirty grey hat with it, revealing a thick mass of brilliantly red hair. Grabbing his small blade kershaw from his left back pocket, he flung the sweater bundle to his right, where it landed on the dirty floor in a crumpled mess. He paused, put his kershaw back in his pocket, and walked over to his shirt and sweater to turn them right-side-out, placing his hat on top of the pile. He’d had to run too many times to add any life-threatening seconds to a time-sensitive escape.

Standing over his ready clothes, he grabbed the kershaw back out of his pocket, flipped open the blade, and drew it purposefully down his chest, slicing through a rough combination of polyethylene plastic and mesh. This he rolled up in a tight ball and stored in his pack, for later. He itched methodically and carefully, so as not to disturb and infect the heat rash that had made its permanent place on his frail, moist chest.

He picked up his sweater pile and pack, making his way to the dark corner that was his own, for now. He leaned back against the dusty, solid wall of brick that was a rarity in Geddich and let his legs flop out, rubbing his budding chest. There they were, the very evidence of who he had once been, who he didn’t want to be. They reminded him every night and every morning that he was as vulnerable and as wanted as anyone could be.

He spat just long of his feet, hitting the exact spot which he’d been eyeing, allowing himself a small smile of satisfaction. He reached into his bag and pulled out a moldy hunk of bread, biting off too much to chew, heaving the manliest sigh he could muster.

He closed his eyes as he chewed, outlining the memories of his parents’ faces, as he had done every single night since he realized he had begun to forget the only faces in the world who had ever loved him. He tried to remember them as they were when they were full of life and joy, wincing as the vivid memories of their bloodied faces flashed before his mind’s eye. But he would never forget. And he wouldn’t forget who he had been when they knew him. Her. He wouldn’t forget what they made her become.

TARGET

My target age range is young adult. Between 9-14

HOBBIES

My hobbies are painting, playing the violin, exercise, cuddling my dogs, and watching food network with my fiancé

BIO

I was born in Canada, but grew up for part of my life in Vermont. Moved back to Canada at the age of 14. Lived without power for three years in the deep woods of Nova Scotia. Now living it up in the warmth and craziness of Florida.

My greatest fear?

That when I die, I will not be dead.

That there will be some form of afterlife.

What soothes me most is the thought of nothing, the idea that death comes and that’s it.

That everything stops, the light leaves, a body becomes nothing more than an object.

My fear is most people’s hope, and vice versa.

How unorthodox of me, hm?

I want to die and be dead; no thoughts, no feelings, no heaven nor hell— I crave the nothing and fear the possibility of continuity.

My name is Donald and I don’t remember being born, but I remember that my name wasn’t Donald.

My brothers and sisters and me lived in a big white room. We had a Mama. She used to lick inside our ears. That was my favourite thing.

There were humans, too. Big ones. Their fur was all in the wrong places and they bared their teeth at the strangest things. They weren’t very good at walking, either, because they always forgot to use their two front paws. That was why they used a house with round legs to do any running. Then, they would go away and Mama would howl that it was going to be days and days and days before they came back. She was very worried about her humans getting lost, she said they had funny faces that didn’t know how to smell their way back home. The humans must’ve had better noses than we thought, because they always came back to give us dinner.

One day, the humans wanted all of us to go with them in the house with round paws. I tried explaining that I already had four paws, but they wouldn’t take no for an answer. Everything around me smelled very different, and then there was big noise and the house shivered and lurched into motion. Me and my brothers and sisters were very impressed.

The house stopped, and soon we all stood inside a square box.

There were lots of other puppies and dogs, and lots and lots and lots of humans. I was excited, I kept jumping to try and see outside the box.

That was when my lady saw me. Oh, I loved my lady immediately. She looked down and patted my head and scratched my ear. Then, she talked to the humans. I didn’t know why she was bothering with them, but soon she came back, and lifted me out of the box and into a blanket.

She put me into another moving house, and brought me home. My lady, my lovely lady, whose hands smelt of sweat and meat and everything that is very delicious, took me out into her other house. There were three other people there, humans that weren’t quite as big as my lady.

All of them had all of the same problems as the other humans, though they tried their best to walk on their paws when they surrounded me. They soon became my humans. If anyone else barked or growled rudely at my humans, I always told them that even dog shampoo smelled better than their lousy bottoms.

My lady was the loveliest lady that ever was. She always gave me things to eat and she liked to play a lot of games. I always obliged her because I liked it when she scratched my ears and told me I was a good boy, in her special voice.

Of course, I missed my brothers and my sisters, but my new family played lots of new and exciting games. I discovered a game they called ‘fetch’, which was when the human lost control of its paws and kept needing me to help them find a stick they were incapable of holding. Another they called ‘going for a walk’, which was a very good game, except they often tied a rope around my neck. This was because they didn’t know how to walk properly, and needed me for directions. I would try to pull my human along as best I could, but it didn’t make them any faster. Oh! And the games: ‘come on Donald’, ‘sit’ and ‘roll over’ which consisted of doing stupid things like running very fast to them or gesticulating on the ground in order to get a very delicious treat.

I am an older dog, now, and my name is still Donald. The smaller humans got bigger and left. Their senses of smell have deterioated over the years, it now takes them a very long time to smell their way home, but they always come back, eventually. I am so happy that they do, though I always worry that my lady will one day disappear, too. So I’ve started asking her to take me with her. I am glad I can take care of her in this way, though she insists on the both of us using the house with the rolling round legs.

My lady has just given me a treat, because there is thunder coming and she knows I don’t like that one bit. I think I will go to sleep, now.