Itsaki
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There is a time and a place for everything, my love, and let no one tell you different.
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Post by Itsaki on Feb 18, 2009 11:48:08 GMT -5
wow. that one was intense. it kind of made me cry too. . . . wow. that's epic, right there. and pretty depressing, too. but, five stars *****
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Post by Autumn's Nightmare on Feb 19, 2009 0:13:35 GMT -5
Wow...That about broke my heart...
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K
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Posts: 737
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Post by K on Feb 19, 2009 11:12:08 GMT -5
I think it is time I try my hand at a short story. It keeps with the general mood all of the stories have had. I wrote it really quick so it's probably not very good but here it is anyways.
There she walks.
There she walks, the star of life, pulling his gaze to her like the earth pulls the moon. She see's him, smiles, then goes to the other. They are happier together. he can see it. And there go more, happy couples, on the road to bliss they walk. He knows what is in store for them.
he cares for them both, so it is nice for him to see them that way. Even though when they are together, only they exist to each other and they are rarely apart. he watches with a detatched view, watching their souls intermingle more and more until they are hard to tell apart. If you want one, the other is mandatory.
The best thing about it is. She needs the other, she needs to rely upon him. And the other, he needs to be needed, to feel wanted. It makes him happy to see them together, but also sad. Other people together, happy. That is all he has see. While he begs for just a little attention the people around him are smothering each other with it. Not a drop for him.
All he wanted was somone he could look in the eyes and say, from the bottom of his heart reverberating through his soul, 'I Love You.' But he did not even know what full true love felt like yet. He had dreamed about love once, but it was not the same he had hoped, becuase the dream made him feel sad. Did love feel sad? Was love a pain in your chest and a yearning in your mind so powerful that you would kill just to sate it? That didn't sound right. Shouldn't love feel contented to be with somone? He didn't know
All he wanted was a family. Somone he could hug at night when the dark dreams took hold of him. Somone who would understand that sometimes he just needed to scream, to run, to break things becuase everything was closing in around him, trying to take his very being away. No one understood that. They thought he was crazy, not all there, touched in the head and indeed there was a time when he thought that too. When he thhought he was bound for jail or the madhouse.
All he wanted was children who would ask him what his life was like so many years ago. Chilldren to teach and watch grow, little pieces of him and the one he was mutually devoted to. To watch them leave, and find love of there own, and to watch them have their children. To see his children happy as he was doing what he had done, but better. Then in the end, when he and his partner were old and grey haired. They could sit and watch the sun set and take their final breaths together. To go of on another journey together, and to never be alone anymore.
'Can't I be wanted? Don't I deserve to be needed?' he asks himself, 'Where is my pretty girl, where is the one who loves me? I know I love her back, whoever she is. And then. Maybe. Maybe she doesn't exist. It could be her, the star, but I think not. Yes, I do believe I will die alone.'
And he did.
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Itsaki
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There is a time and a place for everything, my love, and let no one tell you different.
Posts: 774
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Post by Itsaki on Feb 25, 2009 10:45:39 GMT -5
KEVIN!!!! That's sad, and depressing, and...depressing. I didn't...*feels guilty* KEVIN!!!!! *BELLOWS*
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K
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Posts: 737
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Post by K on Feb 25, 2009 10:59:21 GMT -5
ah'you bellowed?
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Itsaki
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There is a time and a place for everything, my love, and let no one tell you different.
Posts: 774
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Post by Itsaki on Feb 25, 2009 11:06:16 GMT -5
Yes. This is a short story as to how you feel about other people and their relationships and how all you want is attention and someone to love you? Then yes, I'm bellowing
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Post by Shyl on Feb 25, 2009 13:32:27 GMT -5
let me take a shot, mines more of a poem He had loved her, the feeling of her silky hair had always calmed him, He remembers his life then, so simple and calm, The calm was no more, taken from him, She was no more, gone from his life He missed her, yes he missed her his chance at life with her would never be renewed in this life time, but the after was when they would meet again, to joyously embrace each other to once again stand side by said, hand in hand, and watch the setting sun once more
For now he has only his memories, the memories of her smile, the memories of her touch, the memories of her tears the memories of her lips to his these things would not be forgotten
Saddness may grip them but it will never prevail over thier hearts, His mind drifted off once more, to thier times of pondering of what lay above, to the times of sitting and watching thier surroundings, the times where they would rest thier heads on one anothers shoulders and simply love without words or action,
No more was it to be for she was gone, gone from his life Gone, were the happy memories, torn from him by those who would make it so, if only there had been more time, if only he had thought clearly and acted quicker, maybe things would be different, but there were so many possiblities he had missed, They would remember these times, the good and the bad together, and maybe then it could be as if they were once more They see the same moon the same stars the same sun the same sky, maybe they were not so far apart all need be done is his love for her all he need do, is remember This is actuality as the person i love is moving away
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K
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Posts: 737
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Post by K on Feb 26, 2009 8:13:29 GMT -5
I wish she didn't have to leave. Her dad is a bastard. Anyways, I will write another.
Off into the darkness. Two steps forward. Two more. Then ten steps back. One to the left to keep things mixed up. He was walking in the darkness, trying to find a way out. Always alone he walked, even though he saw others. It was cold there and they could not see him.He was invisible, a ghost. He was beyond people's sight in the super massive black hole. He had a companion but Death doesn't count. Why did life had to be so hard? This didn't even count as a life. It was sublife. There had to be more, and that was why he was there.
More. Why wasn't there more? Was that all that life was about? Death, eating, creating thiings to be destroyed? Did nothing survive time? There had to be other people out there. Beyondthe beyond. Nobody else could see it. Nobody else saw the possibilities. All they saw was the shallow ends of life. Science and looks.
Science was so cold but that was the only way to prove that warmth existed. There had to be warmth out there. If there was cold there was warmth becuase cold was the absence of warmth. Sometimes he was unsure though. Only he seemed to feel the full posibility of the warmth. Why was it only him? Maybe he could give it to them, but would they accept it. He tried before but he could never suceed.
He had traveled alone for so long he had picked up traveling companions. But they also weren't there. they were also searching. Searching for the warmth. They followed, but they could also leave. He was trapped. Submerged fully. His soul was lost but the world of cold wanted to catalogue it. The bastards would not let him keep it. They wouldn't let him find the warmth.
Will he search and search to the end of his days and never find true truth? It is unknown.
Yes, I know. This one sucks, but I like it.
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Itsaki
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There is a time and a place for everything, my love, and let no one tell you different.
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Post by Itsaki on Feb 26, 2009 10:40:55 GMT -5
The Wandering Heart Kyra walked down the noisy hallway, her schoolbooks in hand. She stopped at her locker, spinning the lock until it clicked, and she opened it up, throwing a few books in and pulling out a folder, and she carried her new stack to her next class. She walked into Mister Ferrin’s class, an overweight, droning teacher who taught Social Studies. History, to be precise. She sat in her desk in the front row, and the class quickly filed in, taking their seats and filling the room. Behind her sat Keena, one of her friends. “Hey,” he said as he sat down, throwing his backpack beside the chair and opening his books. “Hey,” she responded. And that was all contact they had, for at least most of the class. Mister Ferrin went through his planned lectures and the class took notes. When class ended, and hour and twenty one minutes later, it was lunch. Keena made his way to lunch, silently, and there was no contact between either of them, for they both went their own ways. They never saw each other at lunch, Kyra disappeared to parts unknown. Rarely did they see each other in the halls, only a few chance meetings brought them together for a few seconds and then they were off to their own classes. That one class was the only time that he got to lay eyes on her, her perfectly angled face, her beautiful blue and grey eyes, her long smooth brown hair, and even her beautiful, athletic body. When he did talk to her, he enjoyed her sense of humor just as much as he loved making her laugh. He loved talking to her, for she was just a great person to talk to. The only problem was that he was quite convinced that she didn’t love him how he loved her. He was sure she didn’t love him at all, or that she even liked him as a boyfriend. He wanted her to like him, to love him, he wanted to hold her in his arms, to hug her, but as each day passed he realized that it would not happen. One day as Keena entered class, Kyra noticed that he looked depressed. “Hey, Keena.” She turned around and said. “Hey.” His reply was definitely depressed. “What’s up?” She asked. “Nothing.” He said solemnly. He was relationship stupid. Little did he know that all he had to do was talk to her about it. “Bullcrap it’s nothing. Come on, what’s wrong?” “I’ll tell you at lunch.” So the class went by as always, the teacher giving his lecture, the class taking notes, and afterwards he handed out the homework. When the bell rang, the class stood and everyone gathered their things, and all of the students filed from the class. Outside, she stopped him in front of his locker. “So? What’s bothering you, I want to know.” She said as he spun the dial on the lock. He didn’t say anything; he just put his bag into his locker, and he faced her. “Kyra, I never know how to tell you, so I just never did. I love you, I always have, but I know that you don’t love me the same way. I mean, you may, but I don’t have the courage to find out, I never have, but now I guess I you know.” The both of them were silent. “You really love me?” She asked after a moment. The crowd in the hallway was thinning. “Yeah. I really do.” They looked at each other for a while. “So?” He asked tentatively. She grabbed his hand, lacing her fingers through his. “I believe that you are a great guy, Keena. And, I would not make assumptions.” She kissed him on the lips, hers soft and moist, and Keena smiled as they kissed. “I’ve waited a while to do that.” She told him.
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Itsaki
Administrator
Has negative infinity karma.
There is a time and a place for everything, my love, and let no one tell you different.
Posts: 774
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Post by Itsaki on Feb 26, 2009 10:41:34 GMT -5
A Traitor Among Us I lay on the hospital bed. I was still, every movement made my leg spike with a pain so great, it made me scream and writhe in agony, and that only made the pain worse. So I lay still, doctors and nurses tended to the sword wound on my thigh, where a swordsman had crippled my right leg. They examined it, but they did no more than place a cloth bandage on it. For the officers, the doctors carefully knitted their wounds together, like two pieces of fabric. They would then place a medicinal paste, a poultice, over the knitted wound, and then a fresh bandage was wrapped around the slash. But I was a poor peasant, and the only reason they kept me alive was so that they didn’t have to pay my wife for my death. They wanted me back tending my farm, ready for battle again, where I would properly die. A month after I had recovered, I marched, shoulder to shoulder, with a battalion of spearmen, round shields were strapped to our left arms, we carried ten foot spears, lowered, parallel to the ground, towards the cavalry before us. I was on the front line, where the soldiers rarely survived. A call rang out as the horsemen thundered towards us, and we dropped to one knee. The man behind me held his spear a few inches above my right shoulder. All of the cavalry held battle axes and war hammers; Skandia did not breed swordsmen. We held the shafts steady before us, the silver spearheads glinting in the beating afternoon sun. The steady, rhythmic hoof beats on the sun-dried earth made me shake, but I held my spear ready. The cavalry came closer, louder, the pounding echoing in my mind. It echoed around my head, screaming at me, telling me to flee now, spare myself, but all thought was halted by the crashing of armor around me. My right arm jarred, and the spear slid a few inches out of my grasp, but I held firm. My spear had pierced through the chest of a horse, and the butt of the shaft caught in the earth, holding fast. The horse’s momentum had splintered the cured wood. The rider flew from his mount, landing on the ground behind the second line. The charge did not stop at one line, more riders charged past me, and I pulled the spearhead from the horse’s chest, and it collapsed, dead. Another horse rode up behind him, and I stood. The spear came forward striking the horses neck, and I pulled quickly, striking the fur-clad rider as the horse fell. I threw the spear, hitting a cavalry rider in the side, drawing my sword. I slashed at an axe man, cutting one horse’s leg. An axe cleaved my left arm, and I stumbled, but stabbed another rider, I could feel the ligament in my right leg get cut, and I screamed in pain. It felt as though by the point of a sword. None of the Skandians had swords. I involuntarily dropped to one knee, the world suddenly growing red around me. Everything became distorted and the pain shot through my leg. I groaned in agony, and another burning pain shot through the whole of my torso. I looked down to find the end of a blade protruding from my chest, my armor mangled in its wake. Tears began to stream down my face for many reasons. “Ha! None of you shall survive! I was smart enough to realize.” It was a sneering voice, and I recognized the voice as the man who had stood behind me in the second line. “They shall-” I coughed up blood, “kill you, too. We will all die.” I sputtered. Blood welled up in my throat, pouring from the corners of my mouth. The metal withdrew, and I remained on my knee for a moment until my body realized that it could no longer hold itself up, and I collapsed, face first onto the blood-soaked earth.
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Post by Shyl on Feb 26, 2009 12:50:50 GMT -5
1st one, meh you named someone making it hard to relate to, a good way to relate to a sad story is to name no one + you added you ... not cool, you have a GF dont make a new make believe one 2nd one you made it a war story, sorta, good theme, named someone again, left main guy unnamed. overall i give it a 4/5 ... 20 points for making it first person ! (high five!)
BTW mine was my first try ever at anything involving my real feelings
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Itsaki
Administrator
Has negative infinity karma.
There is a time and a place for everything, my love, and let no one tell you different.
Posts: 774
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Post by Itsaki on Feb 27, 2009 3:21:07 GMT -5
The reason the first one has names: It was written months ago because Ariel wanted to know how I felt about her, so I wrote some sort of love story. Kyra is Ariel, I am obviously Keena. It's not a make beleive GF, and it wasn't meant to be sad or anything, so they have names.
The second one: No one was named. The Skanidinas were named, but no one else was. And if it's in first person, I'm not going to say, "I, Giorgio, did such and such."
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Post by Shyl on Feb 27, 2009 4:24:35 GMT -5
mmmmm well, this is the depressing chat area lol. all our love stories and sad stories are ending up here.
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K
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Post by K on Feb 27, 2009 15:32:09 GMT -5
Yeah, lots of sad stories.
The boy watched as the red and blue lights flashed through the windows. His mother was crying. He had done it again and they were coming to take him. As promised. He was standing still, his face a blank mask. He walked outside. There was an ambulance in the driveway. People got out and talked to his mother. She was so sad. He didn't feel anything.
One of the people, a lady told him to follow her and she walked to the back of the ambulance and led him in. He heard that his mother would follow behind. The black things were following him into the ambulance to and his vision was becoming clouded because there were so many. The lady told him to lay on the bed table and the black things vanished. He complied, feeling empty, no emotion, no original thought. She took the belts and the buckles. One over his forhead, one for each ankle, his wrists, belly. He lay there staring at the metal ceiling, brightly lit.
They began to move. The woman was surprised that she had to take such a little child away. He was so calm, how could he be like that? After a while, he began to get tired. After things like this happened he usually did get tired and it was nightime too. He couldn't fall asleep though, it was too bright. After what seemed like two hours they stopped and turned off the red and blue lights. He could tell through the window. The lady unbound him and led him out.
The ambulance was parked outside an institutional looking building. He was led inside. A doctor looking man was waiting for him inside a carpeted hallway there were doorways. The black things were at the boy's heels. He glanced back, then the man got his attention. The man led him into a examintion room, like at a doctors office but less institutional.
The man flashed light in his eyes, checked his throat, reflexes. The boy was waiting for a bit while the man scribbled down some notes. The man turned to the boy and looked at him a bit. The look made the boy angry.
*Flash* The boy had grabbed the sitting man by the throat. The man was gasping, clawing at the boys hands. *Flash* The boy had grabbed the man's pen, clicked it out, stabbed the man once, twice, in the throat. Blood spurted out everywhere, all over the boys face. The man was gasping, trying to scream. *Flash* *flash* The boy jumped upon the man. He was biting the man's face, clawing at his eyes. The man was screaming and screaming and screaming. . . *flash* The man moved back to the boy. He checked the boy's internal organs by feeling his stomach, applying an uncomfortable amount of pressure and he checked his breathing. Then the man handed the boy a gown and a cup. The boy did as he was expected in a side bathroom feeling very akward.
He knew why he had to change his clothes and take off his shoes. They didn't want him to commit suicide. Task completed he walked back out and the man handed him pajamas, his mom dropped them off. She wasn't there anymore, he didn't care that she didn't stay. He knew he should have but he didn't.
Examintations done the man led the boy back out into the hallway and then into a door. There was a small room, furniture bolted to the floor except for the chair. He was told to go to bed and not close his door. People would check up on him every once and a while. The boy climbed into the bed. It took him a long time to fall asleep.
There should be three parts to this story. maybe only two.
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Post by Shyl on Feb 27, 2009 17:00:00 GMT -5
jesuss christ... psycho kid???
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