This is basically just my random stuff. Poetry, short stories, photographs, etc.

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Some Random Story-Type-Thing With No Name and No Plot.


I don't mind the reasons. You know....the reasons why everyone hurts me. I know that they only do it because they're afraid of me. I don't blame them. Who could accept me, the freak, the weirdo...the witch? No one, that's who. They hurt me so I don't hurt them.
It's as simple as that.
If it's really that simple, why do I hate them all so much?
I understand that no one can understand me. It's okay. I don't even understand myself.
If it's okay, then why does it hurt me so badly?
My life will get better. I know it. Slowly I'll be accepted and I'll join the world. I will hide behind a mask of who I want to be.
Life won't get better. I hide my pain behind a mask already, and what has that done? Nothing.
I am nothing.
No, no that isn't right. I only wish that I were nothing. But sadly, I am here, uncontainable darkness seeping through me...
I remember the day that he died. Father slapped me and called me a murderer. An assassin. I guess that is what I am.
A witch.


Sunlight dances upon me. I can see it burn red through my closed eyelids. For a moment I wish to lay there, gathering its warmth, escaping the coldness inside of me....but I cannot. I do not deserve the sun.
Reluctantly, I open my eyes and push myself off of the mattress I sleep on. I can hear birds calling out to each other, the ringing of bicycle bells and children laughing. For some reason it makes me angry. I will never be able to enjoy those sounds. That pleasure. I quickly pull closed the black velvet curtains, being swallowed by darkness once again. That's how I live my life, you know. In darkness. Mother says it's for my own protection. Liar. It is not for my protection. It is for the world's. She knows that I will hurt everything if I am released from this prison they call a home. Sometimes I do want to hurt everything, hurt it all as everyone has hurt me.
But can I?
No.
No, I can't. I do not have the courage to hurt everyone, just as I do not have the courage to end this life. I hate myself for that.
"Violet!"
I jump, startled by a voice interuppting my thoughts.
"Violet!" The voice shouts again.
Mother.
There is a knock on the door and a high, falsely sweet voice says, "Sweetie, you need to get ready for school."
School?!
I wait until the click of high heels fades away and I know that my mother is gone.
Immediately, I swing open the door to my closet, revealing numerous items of black clothing. That's all, just black.
Yet another reason why everyone hurts me. They do not understand that I am mourning for this world. Mourning, because I live in it. The entire world did not do anything to me. It does not deserve to be punished like this, me living in it.
I grab a long victorian style dress and slip into it, swing my book bag over my shoulder, and run out of the door.
My prison has many halls, twisting and turning, this way and that. An endless maze.
But I have found a way out of this maze. A single white door, leading to the outside world. I am only to use that door to go to school. Nothing else.
There is a "canopy" as Father calls it, hanging over the door, keeping me out of the sun.
Keeping me in shadows.
They must agree. I do not deserve the sun.
A long black car waits for me at the end of the canopy. Tiny puffs of exhaust crawl through the air like cloudy snakes.
The driver doesn't look at me once I get into the car. He never looks at me. He is afraid of me. I can feel it.
As we drive down the road I look out of the tinted window. No one can see me through the window, but I can see them.
A young woman pushes a stroller carrying two toddlers while talking on her cell phone. Nothing exciting there, right? Well, I see something else. A lonely teenage girl, only 17, crying softly inside as she argues with her boyfriend. He's leaving her with the kids and she can't handle it.
Quickly, my gaze is drawn to someone else; an middle-aged man reading a newpaper. He was just diagnosed with cancer last week. On his left is a young boy, about 9, with a backpack slung over his shoulder and a bruise on his cheek. His father beats him, so he ran away from home.
So much anguish, so much hurt. I could never hurt those who have suffered like I have, ever if they continue to torment me. I just can't.
Finally, we pull up to the school. I run under the veranda and up to the automatic sliding doors. They open and I get a rush of cold air.
As I walk down the hall, avoiding looks from people, the sudden noises fill my ears. Students talking, lockers slamming, someone droning on about something on the intercom.....it's all too much.
I run into the girls bathroom and lock myself in a stall. No one is in here since the bell is about to ring. I always get to school a minute before the bell rings.
Silence washes over me and I let out a heavy sigh. I have a feeling that I won't make it through the day. The bell rings, echoing through the tiled bathroom. Final locker slams are heard and then...nothing.
Letting myself out of the stall, I notice my reflection in the mirror. Long, silky black hair, a complexion too pale to be normal, steel gray eyes with flecks of blue. "Beautiful" Mother calls it. "Ugly" I call myself.
Walking out of the restroom, I spot a door that I have never noticed before. A janitor's closet perhaps? I grasp the cold metal handle and turn it slowly. It isn't a janitor's closet...it's a classroom. Judging by the amount of dust, I'd say it is a very old abandoned classroom.
Quietly, I lie down on the carpeted floor and curl up into a ball, staring at the tiny cracks of light being emmited from the blinds. None of them reach me.
People say I pity myself. They say I have no reason to be this way.... but they don't know. They have no idea. The things that I've done.... Mother and Father say I must be kept in shadow, away. Away from everything else. While I am still in contact with the world.... a part of me is not. All so confusing... so confusing. For now, I will just close my eyes and sleep. Sweet, sweet sleep.
My eyes flutter closed as I sink slowly into darkness.

"There she is! It's Voodoo Violet!" Voices call out, young girls giggling as the boys advance towards me carrying a pail filled with slimy, writhing creatures. I avert my gaze, curling up into a tight ball, willing myself to turn invisible, be cast into shadow. It does not work.
I feel them gathering in a tight circle around me. One of the boys places the bucket on the concrete below.
"Hey witch. My older brother said that witches eat worms. So here," He says nastily, kicking the bucket over, revealing hundreds of long, brown earthworms. "Eat up."
A slimy, dirty hand shoves one in my mouth, making me gag. But then so they will not bother me, I swallow, tears stinging my eyes.
Laughter rings out among the gaggle of third graders, high pitched squeals and shrieks.
"She ate it! She ate it! Voodoo Violet actually ate it! Witch witch witch!"
Anger boils up inside of me, licking at my soul like flames.
'You think I'm the witch? You think it's okay to do this to me? You have no right... I hate you. I hate you all. I wish you would just die... die...DIE!'
And I do. I want that with all of my heart. I want that boy to die.
Suddenly, the laughter slowly fades away and turns into nervous screams. I look to see what is going on, and to my horror, find that very boy that shoved the worms into my mouth on his hands and knees, coughing up blood. Crimson splatters the hot cement, waiting to rest there and leave a stain for all of time.
Then, I am at home. Mother talks on the phone with a frightened look on her face. Father paces, stealing glances at me every so often. I hide behind a curtain of my black hair, wondering. Waiting.
After a moment, Mother whispers to Father, his face growing steadily redder. Red. The color of blood. My heart begins to race as I remember what this is all about. Boy, am I in trouble. But what happened to him? Is he just sick? I didn't mean to...
I am cut off from my thoughts by a sharp sting on my right cheek. Father pulls his hand away from me and shouts ugly words. "You murdered that boy! Killed him! You dangerous witch! Assassin!"
Tears roll down my face, burning the mark on my cheek. I am awful. Truly horrible. A monster.
Then slowly, everything fades into black once more...

I wake, slowly sitting up and rubbing my right cheek where the imprint of the carpet leaves its mark. I let out a long, pained sigh and rest my head against the wall, watching the shadows play within the light.


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Yeah, that's it. Kind of weird.... but it's something. My friends say that she sounds like she's on the brink of insanity.

Wow, that blew me away, i enjoyed it alot. I love the character, i can relate some ways. But mostly because you expresss her so well, very well. But there is a tiny flaw.
I thought at then end you would reveal the incodent, because i thought that was the reason for all the thoughts and the whole 'depressive' thing. But then nothing. So i think maybe you should explain what the murder was, cause it confused me ( not hard to do ) but that was the only problem with it. Other than that i totally loved it, every part. I couldn't stop reading, which is awsome, i usually get bored and stop reading. But yeah i loved it. Keep posting more stuff, you seem like a good writer.
<333

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Thank you very much. ^_^ And yes, I was unsure about that bit. Now I know to go into more detail about it.




My first coloring job I did on my friend's computer. Don't be too brutal...

No worries
It just needs a bit of detail just mention what it was that happened, but i think it should be at the end or something, because it keeps people reading and in suspence as they keep reading.

I like your colouring i really do. I am such a sucker for roses i love them. But that is very nicely done

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I edited the story. ^_^ Hope you like.

woow......That story was amazing....Its so expressive so dark, and sad but I felt she wasn't a monster, she was just so disturbed.......she was so shunned she couldn't help it..... It also seemed all in her mind.

HOLY CRAP... just wow. haha it was very good i mean i started off reading it and thinking eh another annoyingly depressive story but it was nothing short of intoxicating hun and i agree with ur friend lol but it's a good kind of insanity

The story was amazing before, but now i am just lost for words. I thought it couldn't get any better and you proved my thoughts wrong. That is an amazing story. Truelly amazing, its the best thing i have ever read, truely, and that makes me jealous of you

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Thank you all so very much for the comments. ^_^ I have written a poem which I would love to share with you.



This Horrid Heartache

Rain taps lightly on the window pane
Spelling out the words I want to say to you
But cannot, for I'm too weak to speak them aloud.
A shattered vase lies in the middle of the floor
Pieces everywhere, cutting the soles of my feet
As I walk upon them, carrying the heavy burden I hold
I love you and I miss you
More than my heart can bear
Though I cannot deal with heartbreak
I am enduring it in order to prevent
So my soul is screaming as my heart bleeds for you

I should have taken that risky chance
Instead of pushing you away
I needed to open this cage that seals my heart
Letting you inside; But I did not
So I suffer, wallowing in this misery
I have created for myself
I'm sorry, oh so sorry
For hurting you as well as myself

A black wave of despair washes over me
Leaving my body on the shore, leaving it to die
These feelings I lock inside my mind
My soul, and my tortured heart
Have pushed against this door, wanting to come out
So here they are, connecting with the paper
Ink spreading across the page in dark,
Heartfelt letters, wishing that the pain will end.
So here I sit, alone and broken
A shell of who I was with you
Though my love still burns inside of me
My fear and weakness is a veil, shielding it from you
Making me hurt you, when that's the last thing I would want.

I've started writing yet another story. Here's the first chapter.



Chapter One: Just beyond the doorway...



Heat. It is all around me, everywhere. Flames licking at my clothing, bright tongues of fire engulfing me, swallowing me whole. I am burning, burning in the sulpherous depths of the underworld. My scream is let out in amidst the crackling of the hellish fire, yet is unable to reach my own ears. I shall simply be left here, left here to die.


I sit up with a jolt, drenched thoroughly in sweat. My bright green eyes glance over at the analog clock which sits perched on my dresser, the antique brown body polished to a rustic shine, the fine black hands indicating that the time is 4:36. This was the third time in the span of four hours that I have had this nightmare. Why? I do not know. My heart beats frantically as a curtain of my dark hair falls before my face, brilliantly contrasted against the moonlit pallor of the skin.
"Damn reoccuring dream..." I mutter, sliding out of bed to turn the ceiling fan on 'high'. Something pulls at my long victorian nightgown, startling me. I whirl around, only to find that the rough wood of my bedpost has snagged it. I sigh and smile to myself, relieved, gently unhooking the thin, white fabric. How silly of me to get so worked up about a nightmare. If Mother were to know, she'd scold me for being so terribly childish.
Shaking my head with exhaustion, I lay back down on my bed, hearing it give a soft groan of protest. I stare at the darkness for a while, until my mind needs to rest, and I fall back into slumber once more.

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The sound of footsteps fade away just as I open my eyes. Metalic clicks hitting the smooth, wooden floorboards. Sunlight does not stream through the curtain folds, so I know that night is still here. Why is someone up at this time of night, then? How long have I been asleep? I turn to the clock once more, but find it not there. Puzzled, I slip out of bed again and walk towards the door, my pale hand holding the doorknob firmly, cool metal burning against it. I turn the handle, hearing the door open, but as I push it... nothing happens. Only a sliver of it is open, yet enough to fit in my slender frame.
Sucking in what stomache I have, I squeeze my way through the door. Once on the other side, I gasp and fall to the floor in shock.
I am in Wonderland.

Straight out of a Lewis Carroll classic, is the colourful landscape, swirls and curls and nothing as it seems. A magnificently gnarled old tree is sitting in a rocking chair, birds are flying backwards in the ground underneath my feet. The sun is sleeping, radiating a soft blue. But, no white rabbit in sight.
"Curiouser and curiouser..." I whisper to myself, spotting a narrow black road and making my way towards it.
As I near the path, tiny bushes of roses appear. Awed by the perfection of the crimson hue, I reach out to touch one. But as my finger grazes the petal, a sharp stinging pain stabs at my hand. Looking closely, I see the colour deepen, and, turning my hand over for inspection, I see that it has cut me.
The roses are saturated with human blood.
Appalled, I stumble backwards, walking swiftly down the road. For a good stretch of land, I see nothing but the twisted landscape. Until...
"Oh, pardon me, Miss!" The voice of a young man exclaims.
Whipping around, I see no one. Thinking it as just a trick of this marvelous parody, I start on my way once more. But again, I am stopped by that voice.
"Miss! Oh, Miss! Please, come back!" It pleads from behind me.
I bite my lip and turn around, coming face-to-face with a dashing boy of handsome features, piercing blue eyes staring straight into mine. A tremor goes throughout me, and my knees feel as if they will give out at any moment. His gaze holds me upward, until I break it, averting my eyes bashfully.
He says nothing for a moment, and I wonder if he is still there, so, I look up and see him. My breath catches at the sight of his perfect face. A shock of black hair sits atop his brilliantly moulded head, his skin as pale as my own, if not lighter. He smiles, a grin that makes me weak-kneed all over again, revealing white teeth with two canines protruding from the top. At that, my heart races. He is most likely a boy of vampyric tendancies.
Noticing my fear, he closes his mouth, frowning. Reaching a hand out to brush my cheek, which I find very forward of him, he says in an angelic whisper, "Do not be afraid. I shall not harm you."
I want to believe him, oh how I want to, yet another part of me has the urge to run away, leaving this handsome young man behind.
I stay, feeling as though I know him, like I've met him before.
Silly girl, I tell myself, How could you? Only a moment ago you stumbled into... Wonderland.
Now I'm sure this must be a dream. It is impossible. Of course I feel that I know him, doesn't this happen a lot in dreams?
But the feelings I got when he touched me... those were real. They had to be. So why...
I am interuppted from my thoughts by his voice.
"Dear girl, may I ask why you are out here? You are human, are you not?"
My green eyes gaze back into his blue ones, getting ready to speak.
"I..." My voice comes out in a whisper, so mustering up any courage I have, I say, "I don't know."
The boy seems worried, and replies with this, "Then you shouldn't be here. Awful things can happen to a mortal. Wonderland is a mad place, girl. Nothing is as it is, yet everything is as it seems."
Feeling a tear roll down my face, I whisper, "I don't know how to get home. I cannot leave here."
Just like Alice....
Being the gentleman that I'm sure he is, the boy wipes away the single tear and looks at my fondly. "Same with me."
Biting back the urge to cry, I manage to ask him, "Pardon, but what is your name?"
Grinning, the boy takes a step back from me (and at this moment I realize that we were awfully close) and bows formally.
"Vincent DeWitt, at your service, madame."
I cannot help but smile as I curtsey, my long white nightgown looking abnormally good on me. "Glad to meet you, Vincent. My name is Christine."
He repeats my name over and over, as if tasting it on his tongue. Then, surprisingly, Vincent takes my hand and kisses it lightly, sending a jolt down my spine.
"A pleasure to meet such a lovely lady, with an exquisite name."
Blushing furiously, I take back my hand and follow him as we start down the road together.



(Positive critique would be nice.)