My Mood...I watched her carefully... The way her jaw was tense, her whole body was shaking... Occasionally a small hand reached up, wrapped a strand of brown hair around her finger a few times, before it retreated back to her phone. The look of shock, sadness, and disbelief was clear on her face. She hugged herself tightly and quietly sobbed. The tears she had held back for so long finally flowed free, escaping her tear ducts and kissed her cheeks, until they dripped off her chin in slow motion. They left behind a trail of pure anguish. Her hands caressed the phone she was holding, her fingers gently tracing its shape...On her left arm was a healing
Mental HospitalI flipped out. I threw whatever was in reach aimlessly. I broke windows, dented the walls and doors, and destroyed a few chairs. Does that make me bad? I didn't think so. My father always thought I was too violent to go to a public school, so I was homeschooled. I had no friends, but I had parents and a little sister and that was good enough for me. My family didn't understand I didn't like what I did. Honestly, I can't control it. Sometimes I don't even realize what I'm doing. My birthday was coming up soon. I was going to be sixteen. I continued throwing things. My parents had been talking about sending me to the loony bin. They agreed
another holocaust story.. In a flash, I was back in my house, something I missed so much. Mom and Dad were there. Zach, my older brother, was too. It seemed too good to be true. We were all downstairs, laughing and talking like we used to so often. There was a knock on the door and, as I held my breath almost automatically, my father walked over ever so casually to the door. He rested his hand on the knob, reluctant to open it. He and Mom shared a worried glance and I realized I'd seen this all before. My darkest day repeating itself, again. Mom came over and held my hand and kept tugging it saying, "Come on, Rachel!" It seemed as though my curiosity hypnotized m
hmmmm. I ran down the damp streets of Germany. My shoes hammered against the pavement; my heart raced, I could hear it in my ears. It wasn't loud enough to block out the yelling and gunshots. The rain soaked my hair and poured into my eyes, blurring my vision. I still knew where I was going. I was almost free; I could almost taste the freedom on the tip of my tongue. I heard the Nazis coming. Panicking, I tried the door to the closest building. To my surprise, it turned and welcomed me in. Inside, it was dark and covered with a thick layer of dust. Cobwebs were strewn across every corner and I smelled mold. It would have to do until I could escap
No Name (WIP)“Mom? Dad?” Silence greeted me. Guess I was home alone. Again. Knowing them, my parents were probably out with all of their way-too-proper friends. Actually, no. As far as I knew, they weren’t friends, yet they seemed to spend all their time together as a group. This was because they were lonely, and no one particularly liked them. I slapped my keys onto the granite kitchen counter, my NES lanyard dangling off the edge. I walked over to the fridge, floor boards creaking ever so slightly as they settled into place. I winced. It’s strange how loud everything seems when you’re home alone in a big house. I gather