would you like to be friends or do you want me to vanish out of your life like i never existed and you never knew me or crossed paths at all.
You've got to stay skinny, don't you, girl?
You've got to stay pretty while you can
You've got to stay hungrier for the fans
You know we are living in a fucked up world
And they'll try to burn you all up
The WORLD/SOCIAL MEDIA: Your face is rotten
Ugliest smile I have seen
Your name's forgotten
Now go on and cut yourself clean
Why won't you answer?
You think you're better than me
Go on, surrender
Another suicide teen
I was 11.
I didn't know any better.
But I said yes... I allowed it to happen.
It's all my fault, I should've said no.
Now I am scarred and so are my relationships.
I was 12.
I tried to say no.
You seemed angry so I let it go.
I allowed you to do it, instead of taking control.
And now I'm stuck saying the fault is my own...
I was 13.
Terrified to say no, but too uncomfortable to say yes.
I did what I was told, I let myself stay in that mess...
You were pleased and I was scarred.
Now I'm wondering, if I should have told them all.
I was 14.
I finally got my own voice.
I told you know, knowing it was my choice.
I saw the anger in your eyes and my body shook, and I prepared to cry.
You left me alone after that for awhile.
I was 15.
You tried again.
I said no, never again.
You went silent and I still feared.
And on that day, I told someone of what happened.
And now I cannot bring myself to forgive the little 11 year old.
Even though I know, they didn't know better.
I trusted you and you betrayed that trust,
Now that iron trust has turned to dust.
Now, there is nothingk left to say that can repair the brokeness in me.
You knew better, you knew I wouldn't know it was wrong.
You knew it was against the law, and you did it anyway.
You knew it may scar me, and you didn't care.
You knew, and you knew, and you never thought twice...
And now I'm stuck living on a prayer, hoping God will forgive me.
And now I'm stuck, never able to fully trust.
Now I'm stuck carrying the weight of the past.
Now I'm stuck hating the 11 year old who was innocent.
Now I'm stuck, hurting all the time...
Now I'm stuck wishing I had never been born...
Because if I'd never been born, I couldn't have said yes...
I didn’t just lose a friend
I just realised
I never had one
Underneath the Obvious
All I can do is smile and stare at my friend as she picks up a hair tie and fiddles with it in her right hand. Her left hand rakes through her cancer-scarred scalp as new, magic hair grows back at a rapid rate. Within seconds, her lush mane that disappeared months ago is back at full glory. Now she’s back to being the fierce lionness I always knew her as.
With a small smile on her lips, she draws the new hair back into a long ponytail. She whips a few times, feeling the hair hit against her ears and neck. Perfect.
Next, she picks up the box of new shoes. I recognize the brand. They went out of business around a decade ago. Any shoe survivors became worth a fortune. My friend didn’t care about that. Carefully, she removed the out-of-style pumps from the box. There’s a sticky-note on the back of the left pump. With a delicate touch, she removes the note, reads it, and quickly begins to weep. I rush to her and squeeze her in a tight hug.
On the note was the words: “Get a little crazy, baby girl” in soft, cursive handwriting. My friend used to have a pair of pumps just like those--except they weren’t new. They had been worn only once by her mother on her 1983 prom. Unfortunately, during freshman year, she passed away. And left my friend those pumps to wear on her own prom--now only a year away. However, they were accidentally destroyed in a recent house fire.
But now, they were back exactly the way they were before she lost them.
Finally, my friend picked up her new iphone. Gleefully, she texted me--even though I was right beside her.
Look what I got! She typed.
I can see. I responded.
She pulled me into another hug. I gotta admit, texting is a lot between that using that landline she called me on. My friend briefly scrolled through her contacts. Only her dad and me were in it. I know why.
Because I’m the only one who would understand the meaning of such mundane things.
לא בכוח ולא בכוח, אלא ברוחי.
Not by might and not by power but by my spirit
Them (flash fiction)
A girl walked down the empty streets of an unfamiliar neighbourhood. She was on edge and jumped at every noise she heard. It was a strange place; nothing felt right. As she walked, she gradually sped up, due to her feeling that someone was tailing her.
She had stayed at a friend’s house and now needed to walk back home. As she was going back, however, she had taken a wrong turn. She kept wandering but her problem only got worse. At this point, she decided to knock on someone’s door, ask to use the phone to call her mom and get back home safely.
She looked around for candidates until she came across a house that had the lights on. She knocked on the door and waited for someone to answer.
The front door finally opened to reveal a man with a tattered dress shirt and messy hair. His expression was flat and heavy bags tainted his hollow face. ” Hello, are you ok?” He asked. She almost didn’t hear him because of how fast he was talking.
“I took a wrong turn walking home and now I’m lost. Is it ok for me to borrow your phone to call my mom?“Replied the girl, trying to hold back the shakiness in her voice. His face was bony looking and the veins under his eyes stood out abnormally.
“Sure, just give me a moment to try and find it,” said the man and walked away. He left for about 5 minutes then returned with nothing. “I’m afraid I couldn’t find it; don’t worry, I’m sure it’ll come up soon. Come on in and wait for a while,” He stood to the side and beckoned her inside while wearing a toothy grin.
Cautiously, the girl complied. The house was inviting, warm and well-lit, and once she was in, she felt calm. She was grateful that she felt like she wasn’t being followed anymore.
“Follow me,” The lanky man said suddenly. She followed him down a hallway that led to a small kitchen with a long table and two chairs.
He turned to her and said, “Sit down and relax, I’ll be back in a second,” and left once again, leaving her alone in the bare room.
She sat in her chair for a couple of minutes, bored, then decided to look around the room. After a while, she began to feel like a hundred eyes were staring at her. She peeped under the table and looked in a cupboard, and finally went to look out the window. It was a large neighbourhood and the pathways were well lit, and yet, not even a phantom walked the lonely roads. She sighed. She was giving herself delusions.
She walked back to the entrance of the kitchen and leaned against the door-frame- and then she heard the front door lock. Although she was surprised, she didn’t think too much of it. Suddenly, she heard someone from behind running up to her and as she was about to turn, she was smashed in the face with something and blacked out.
She woke up in an empty cellar, her hands bound by ropes and bitterly cold. She looked around her and saw a door with no handle and an open, small window. As she looked, she saw ragged clothes and many old teeth. She screamed at the sight, for she figured that it must have been from other unfortunate children who had found themselves in the same situation.
She dragged herself across the floor to the window and began screaming for help. She screamed, yelled, and screeched but no one answered.
She tried to think of how she could escape. However, no matter how hard she tried, nothing came to her, and she lay on the floor in misery until all her sulkiness gave her an idea.
She sat next to the door and began to cry out for the man. She yelled out “Help! Help!” while adding in some fake sobs in the middle. She repeated it for hours until the door finally swung open. The man walked slowly to her, and let his hands out of his pockets.
The man looked down on her. “Is something wrong?” He asked innocently. She was so stunned she forgot what she was going to say for a split second, then began crying again and burst out ” I-I think I hurt my l-leg... It’s s-sore! Help me please...”.
The man left the door behind him wide open crouched down next to her. He looked as if he was about to help her, but instead, he suddenly became angry. “As if I’d help you! You’re with “them”, aren’t you? Admit it!” He screamed. The girl sobbed and crawled away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about! I’m not with anyone!” She cried. “You can’t fool me! I know your dirty tricks! The “people” told me!” He yelled.
He backed away and tugged at his hair. He shouted in frustration then stomped over to the girl and grabbed the collar of her shirt. “Until you tell me why you work with “them” and why you’re targeting me, you won’t leave.” He growled.
The girl saw this as a chance and kicked him in the stomach. He yelled in pain and curled up in a ball on the floor. She ran out of the room and managed to lock the door, leaving the lanky man trapped. The man banged on the door incessantly, but she ignored it and ran off.
She got a knife from the kitchen and after much trial and error, freed her hands properly. She ran to the front door when she realised the banging in the cellar had stopped.
She panicked and tried the handle of the front door, but remembered that it was locked. She became breathless from anxiety and looked around for the keys. The stress began to take a toll on her and she struggled to breathe. She stumbled in a daze and, by an incredible stroke of luck, found the keys to the front door hidden under a coat. She unlocked the door with it and pushed down the handle to sweet, glorious freedom; but a pair of bony hands then wrapped around her mouth.
She didn’t dare breathe.
The lanky man lowered his head down next to her ear and whispered: ” Didn’t I say that you weren’t going to leave?”
He tripped her feet then grabbed her by the ankles.
He dragged her back down to the cellar as the girl screamed so loud her voice became a rasp and dug her nails into the ground so hard scratch marks were left on the concrete floors.
She joined her old partners in the cellar that night; partners who were also caught working with “them”.
I failed again
I will not love you
Let me repeat
I will not love you
No matter how you smile or laugh or cry
Even if you look at me with those beautiful eyes
I will not love you
Let me repeat
I will not love you
But that’s just a promise I made to myself
That I cannot keep
People should be whoever they want to be as long as what they are doing isn’t non-consensually hurting people or discriminating against people for things they can’t control like gender, race, sexuality, etc. I personally believe that as long as you aren’t being a dick to the people and environment around you you’re fine. I don’t think you’re sexuality needs a label if you don’t want to have one. That’s what I think.
Me personally....I'm queer. I'm not straight and I'm not a lesbian. I'm...something. I might be pansexual but I might be bisexual so it's easier to explain if I just say queer.
I lived alone. Sheltered under wooden beams within soundproof walls. Everything that happened in my home was in my control. I ran my fingers through the coarse hair on my head as gray strands fell out of my scalp. I let them float to the floor. I picked up a mug on my nightstand, the one that was given to me in the mail by my daughter last Christmas, and threw it against the magenta wall. Shattered. I took a step back, letting the sun seeping in from the window shine bright into my eyes. Sunlight - illuminating children playing on a tire swing in the park outside of my home. There was a peacefulness to the sight. A feeling washed over me, and for the first time in what seemed like forever, I wasn’t numb. I rummaged through the closet to find my coat, and turned the knob on the front door, hesitating only for a moment. The children turned to face me, the look on their faces was like they had just witnessed the return on Frankenstein. I moved towards the children, finding a spot on the tire swing next to a red headed girl. A little boy with dainty freckles stepped forward and began to push the swing. Suddenly, I was flying. With my eyes closed I imagined a life without borders. A life like the one I had when I was a child, before the attack. Before I needed to shut myself in, to remove the possibility of being violated again. There was something frightening, yet enchanting about the unknown. Knowing that life could be good or bad, or maybe both. I had lived in the same house, doing the same things, without anybody else for thirty years. The same routine every day. I was done. Predictability was over. My new life had begun.