He kissed you slowly, and the feeling of love drowned your senses. A hug. A kiss. And you went further on.
You walk home, feeling amazing, beautiful, wonderful and every other feeling of happiness and love. The sky seems full of joy and the blue is blinding. The clouds have mixed shapes and sizes, each much more different than the other.
You enter your room and sit at the warmest corner in your room and smile at the thoughts of that special someone. Then your eyes blacken out.
Death. Hate. Depression. Bitterness. Sorrow. Murder.
You shake your head at the thoughts and push try to push them out. A feeling of emptiness fills your inner soul. You grab the knife under your bed from when you were eating watermelon and stick it in your back pocket.
A strong urge fills you. You can’t control it. You walk out your door and towards the person you love.
He is texting his friend about how much he loves you. You lift the knife into the air and try to hold back. You fingers cringe, trying to press the knife against his neck.
You feel the guilt slipping through your ears and cool off your neck. You let out a quiet sigh and smile. You are glad that you didn’t kill. You slowly lose grip of the knife and it slips out of your fingers, landing on his shoulder and gracefully gliding down his arm. A long scar scrapes his arm and the knife is stuck at the very end.
He falls down to the floor and looks around wildly to find the person in charge. His eyes fill with tears and disappoint when he sees that you are the cause of this. A twisted frown of hatred fills his expression.
You begin to cry and find a way to apologize for the harm just caused.
“I’m sorry.” You whisper and cry a lot more.
He gives a glare.
“How could you?” He slowly stutters.
“I didn’t mean to. I don’t know.” You whisper.
His eyes begin to blink quickly, showing he would be gone any second.
You run to his side and kiss his lifeless lips.
“I’m sorry. I love you.” You say slyly and step away from the body.
You walk home, feeling amazing, beautiful, wonderful and every other feeling of happiness and love. The sky seems full of joy and the blue is blinding. The clouds have mixed shapes and sizes, each much more different than the other.
You enter your room and sit at the warmest corner in your room and smile at the thoughts of that special someone. Then your eyes blacken out.
Death. Hate. Depression. Bitterness. Sorrow. Murder.
You shake your head at the thoughts and push try to push them out. A feeling of emptiness fills your inner soul. You grab the knife under your bed from when you were eating watermelon and stick it in your back pocket.
A strong urge fills you. You can’t control it. You walk out your door and towards the person you love.
He is texting his friend about how much he loves you. You lift the knife into the air and try to hold back. You fingers cringe, trying to press the knife against his neck.
You feel the guilt slipping through your ears and cool off your neck. You let out a quiet sigh and smile. You are glad that you didn’t kill. You slowly lose grip of the knife and it slips out of your fingers, landing on his shoulder and gracefully gliding down his arm. A long scar scrapes his arm and the knife is stuck at the very end.
He falls down to the floor and looks around wildly to find the person in charge. His eyes fill with tears and disappoint when he sees that you are the cause of this. A twisted frown of hatred fills his expression.
You begin to cry and find a way to apologize for the harm just caused.
“I’m sorry.” You whisper and cry a lot more.
He gives a glare.
“How could you?” He slowly stutters.
“I didn’t mean to. I don’t know.” You whisper.
His eyes begin to blink quickly, showing he would be gone any second.
You run to his side and kiss his lifeless lips.
“I’m sorry. I love you.” You say slyly and step away from the body.
The Pillsbury Doughboy died yesterday of a yeast infection and trauma complications from repeated pokes in the belly. He was 71. Doughboy was buried in a lightly greased coffin. Dozens of celebrities turned out to pay their respects, including Mrs. Butterworth, Hungry Jack, the California Raisins, Betty Crocker, the Hostess Twinkies, and Captain Crunch. The gravesite was piled high with flours. Aunt Jemima delivered the eulogy and lovingly described Doughboy as a man who never knew how much he was kneaded. Doughboy rose quickly in show business, but his later life was filled with turnovers. He was not considered a very smart cookie, wasting much of his dough on half-baked schemes. Despite being a little flaky at times he still was a crusty old man and was considered a positive roll model for millions. Doughboy is survived by his wife Play Dough, two children, John Dough and Jane Dough, plus they had one in the oven. He is also survived by his elderly father, Pop Tart.
Shaun
I watched two little girls playing, watching one in particular. She reminded me painfully of Serena. The little girl pulled her friend to her feet and ran towards a woman that I recognized.
It was her. At first I was sure I was halluncinating.
Her dark hair was a little longer than I had seen it last. She was wearing a black pencil skirt and a deep blue blouse. She looked happy as the girl ran up to her.
She hugged the little girl. Their hair was the same colour.
I watched numbly as Serena looked at the child with unfathomable love as she told her something.
Serena looked up at me, pain and shock evident on her face.
I watched two little girls playing, watching one in particular. She reminded me painfully of Serena. The little girl pulled her friend to her feet and ran towards a woman that I recognized.
It was her. At first I was sure I was halluncinating.
Her dark hair was a little longer than I had seen it last. She was wearing a black pencil skirt and a deep blue blouse. She looked happy as the girl ran up to her.
She hugged the little girl. Their hair was the same colour.
I watched numbly as Serena looked at the child with unfathomable love as she told her something.
Serena looked up at me, pain and shock evident on her face.
Shaun
About an hour after she called me, I was still sitting there. Unresponsive.
The phone rang again. I forced myself to pick it up.
It was Serena. She was crying.
"I couldn't do it," she said, before hanging up again.
Serena
I couldn't do it. As soon as I was out of the clinic, I drove home. When I'd parked my car, I couldn't hold the tears back.
I looked up, shocked. I had gone to my mother's house.
I stumbled out of the car, and my mother came running out. I collapsed in her warm arms, still sobbing.
Kate
I hear my daughter. Crying. I run outside, and hug my angel, my little angel.
I don't try to make her tell me what's wrong. She'll tell me when she wants to. I know her that well.
About an hour after she called me, I was still sitting there. Unresponsive.
The phone rang again. I forced myself to pick it up.
It was Serena. She was crying.
"I couldn't do it," she said, before hanging up again.
Serena
I couldn't do it. As soon as I was out of the clinic, I drove home. When I'd parked my car, I couldn't hold the tears back.
I looked up, shocked. I had gone to my mother's house.
I stumbled out of the car, and my mother came running out. I collapsed in her warm arms, still sobbing.
Kate
I hear my daughter. Crying. I run outside, and hug my angel, my little angel.
I don't try to make her tell me what's wrong. She'll tell me when she wants to. I know her that well.
Shaun
Three months later, we were apparently "an item".
She had me twisted around her little finger. She could have made me jump in front of a bus, all that was needed was one look from her "love me, you know you want to" chocolate brown eyes.
I paid attention to her every move, her every word.
**************************************************
When I first told her I loved her, I was expecting rejection, but she surprised me. She kissed me, and said she loved me too. The sun revolved around where she stood.
Nothing else mattered.
Three months later, we were apparently "an item".
She had me twisted around her little finger. She could have made me jump in front of a bus, all that was needed was one look from her "love me, you know you want to" chocolate brown eyes.
I paid attention to her every move, her every word.
**************************************************
When I first told her I loved her, I was expecting rejection, but she surprised me. She kissed me, and said she loved me too. The sun revolved around where she stood.
Nothing else mattered.