A/N: Yeah, I know, I come up with some weird stuff. Fractions of a whole story. Well, attatch whatever story you want. This is about a mourning teen. And suicide.
Please rate. (And please comment)
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Getting cold in the sun’s shadow
Drowning in this black pin’s ink
Gone is the lovely light, night’s here despite
Twilight’s eternal fights and weep
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She breathed in and out slowly, each breath appearing in front of her, a wisp of cold smoke disappearing. Around her was a silent vibration she had never understood, never noticed when she was younger, standing on the edge of the abandoned, brick red building. She would wave her arms at the very edge, looking seven stories down as her father held her when she was little. He would fake letting go, making her guts twist up inside her, but a laugh would bubble up her throat, because he would always catch her. She remembers running up the rusting copper stairs all the way up, and her cheeks would turn rosy red. She would make a game of it, running up all the stairs as fast as she can.
“Hey, Dad,” She whispered to the silent coldness. “Remember this place?”
The early morning air stung her visible skin in response, feeling around her ankles and hands, trapping her. Looking up ahead, she saw the other end of the sky and clouds take a fire-red color, and knew that dawn was breaking in. She took a look over the edge of the building, and she had done it so many times before, fear no longer overtook her.
Suddenly, she couldn’t take her eyes of the ground she could reach in just a few stories.
Two steps at most. Two steps, and go like her father, with him, whether it be in hell, in heaven, or just the end.
“I wonder...” She murmured. “Why here? We were so happy here.” She glanced at the sky, looking for an answer. The grey clouds moved lazily across, and she was a bit pissed off for a second.
‘Stupid clouds, blocking my view’ she thought.
“God,” She sighed, and it was almost like she was reprimanding a child. “Why do you have to be so darn cryptic?”
She closes her eyes, taking in a long breath. This is my own personal ceremony, my own personal funeral for you, dad, she thought solemnly.
‘What, normal ones don’t work?’ She smiled. She could almost hear his voice saying it.
She’s still at the edge. The air is whispering to her, mocking her. ‘Go with him, be with him. He misses you. Don’t ever forget him, don’t ever forget this...’
I won’t, she thought. I won’t! She wanted to scream it.
‘Two steps forward, just two steps...just two...’
She breathed.
And suddenly, miraculously, there was another voice, quieter, but somehow shattering all the others.
‘Move on.’
Her voice, quiet but fierce. She takes a last look at the viewing, a last look at her father’s grave.
She breaks away, never looking back.
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Please rate. (And please comment)
**************************************************
Getting cold in the sun’s shadow
Drowning in this black pin’s ink
Gone is the lovely light, night’s here despite
Twilight’s eternal fights and weep
**************************************************
She breathed in and out slowly, each breath appearing in front of her, a wisp of cold smoke disappearing. Around her was a silent vibration she had never understood, never noticed when she was younger, standing on the edge of the abandoned, brick red building. She would wave her arms at the very edge, looking seven stories down as her father held her when she was little. He would fake letting go, making her guts twist up inside her, but a laugh would bubble up her throat, because he would always catch her. She remembers running up the rusting copper stairs all the way up, and her cheeks would turn rosy red. She would make a game of it, running up all the stairs as fast as she can.
“Hey, Dad,” She whispered to the silent coldness. “Remember this place?”
The early morning air stung her visible skin in response, feeling around her ankles and hands, trapping her. Looking up ahead, she saw the other end of the sky and clouds take a fire-red color, and knew that dawn was breaking in. She took a look over the edge of the building, and she had done it so many times before, fear no longer overtook her.
Suddenly, she couldn’t take her eyes of the ground she could reach in just a few stories.
Two steps at most. Two steps, and go like her father, with him, whether it be in hell, in heaven, or just the end.
“I wonder...” She murmured. “Why here? We were so happy here.” She glanced at the sky, looking for an answer. The grey clouds moved lazily across, and she was a bit pissed off for a second.
‘Stupid clouds, blocking my view’ she thought.
“God,” She sighed, and it was almost like she was reprimanding a child. “Why do you have to be so darn cryptic?”
She closes her eyes, taking in a long breath. This is my own personal ceremony, my own personal funeral for you, dad, she thought solemnly.
‘What, normal ones don’t work?’ She smiled. She could almost hear his voice saying it.
She’s still at the edge. The air is whispering to her, mocking her. ‘Go with him, be with him. He misses you. Don’t ever forget him, don’t ever forget this...’
I won’t, she thought. I won’t! She wanted to scream it.
‘Two steps forward, just two steps...just two...’
She breathed.
And suddenly, miraculously, there was another voice, quieter, but somehow shattering all the others.
‘Move on.’
Her voice, quiet but fierce. She takes a last look at the viewing, a last look at her father’s grave.
She breaks away, never looking back.
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1 being the best 10 the worst
These books are great for summer reading I can honestly say that anyone that reads them will want to read them again.
10. Deacula by Bram Stoker
9. The Hobbit by Tolken
8. I'm the king of the castle by Susan Hill
7. 1984 by George Orwell
6. The secret diary of Adrian Mole by Sue Townsend
5. Pride and prejudice by Jane Austine
4. Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte
3. Lord of the Flies by William Golding
2. The curious incident of the dog in the nighttime by Mark Haddon
1 Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier
These books are great for summer reading I can honestly say that anyone that reads them will want to read them again.
10. Deacula by Bram Stoker
9. The Hobbit by Tolken
8. I'm the king of the castle by Susan Hill
7. 1984 by George Orwell
6. The secret diary of Adrian Mole by Sue Townsend
5. Pride and prejudice by Jane Austine
4. Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte
3. Lord of the Flies by William Golding
2. The curious incident of the dog in the nighttime by Mark Haddon
1 Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier
Remembering is just an invention of the mind,
So you need not try to remember something,
You remember it automatically.
Which is the best thing that you could have.
The good times that we had...
It is placed in a portion of your mind.
The bad times that we had...
It is placed in the other part of your mind.
You try to forget all of the bad things that happened,
But it is not possible.
It is stuck in you.
The bad things are painted in ink on your heart.
The good things, you try to remember.
And they stay.
They never go.
Never leave you.
Remembering is just an invention of the mind.
And, well...I guess I'm happy for that.
So I can remember every friend I've had,
Every boyfriend,
And all the good times.
Every memory will never leave my heart.
They will never be forsaken.
Never.
So you need not try to remember something,
You remember it automatically.
Which is the best thing that you could have.
The good times that we had...
It is placed in a portion of your mind.
The bad times that we had...
It is placed in the other part of your mind.
You try to forget all of the bad things that happened,
But it is not possible.
It is stuck in you.
The bad things are painted in ink on your heart.
The good things, you try to remember.
And they stay.
They never go.
Never leave you.
Remembering is just an invention of the mind.
And, well...I guess I'm happy for that.
So I can remember every friend I've had,
Every boyfriend,
And all the good times.
Every memory will never leave my heart.
They will never be forsaken.
Never.
*Poem I wrote for a class project on the holocaust.
DON'T COPY*
Different in ways they couldn't control
Killed for reasons we do not know
Ranging from ages young to old
The innocent people were taken from homes
Soulless people did not care
That the Jewish were in despair
Concentration camps ending their screams
Breaking apart their families
Not once did they do anything wrong
They opened their mouths and sang a sad song
Years went by and more pain came
Until on one very special day
As one we all saved
The survivors of the Holocaust
DON'T COPY*
Different in ways they couldn't control
Killed for reasons we do not know
Ranging from ages young to old
The innocent people were taken from homes
Soulless people did not care
That the Jewish were in despair
Concentration camps ending their screams
Breaking apart their families
Not once did they do anything wrong
They opened their mouths and sang a sad song
Years went by and more pain came
Until on one very special day
As one we all saved
The survivors of the Holocaust