i rewrote one of the things from all those years ago (three, if i’m not wrong), and i’m surprised at how much this has changed. oh well.
another assignment for my writing course. i got full marks on this one too! we had to write about the change that occurred in a person – in the ‘once i was ____; now i am ____’ format, with changes if needed. i decided to do this because i’d been reading/watching some very morbid things.
it’s inspired by the stories of jeffrey dahmer and dennis nilsen, as well as one episode of psycho pass.
Once I was lonely; now I have friends. Regardless of the blissful nature of that statement, I’ve been told my story isn’t a very nice story at all. That, I believe, is not something that should be left for others to decide. My perceptions should be the only ones relevant when it comes to my life.
‘Friends’ – a subjective term. There are many different ideas of friendship. ‘Friends with benefits’ is a form of friendship, with added features that most people would not commonly accept as within the barriers of a platonic relationship. Friendships after break-ups are also friendships, but here there are extra memories thrown into the equation – things friends would not be doing, or would not be saying to each other.
this one was an assignment for my writing course in college. i got full marks!
She wakes up to an empty bed. The sunlight is streaming in past the fluttering curtains at the window, illuminating the spot that should have been occupied but isn’t.
She doesn’t really mind that. She can’t remember the last time she woke up to a sleeping face, to steady breathing and an arm around her waist, holding her close as if any moment she could get up and run away. That’s slightly ironic. She wouldn’t run away. She’s not the one who wants to. Continue reading
Hey guys! It’s been a while, haha. I’ve been busy with exams and whatnot. Anyway, I found this thing I wrote for English Language last year! I got an A on it as well as a comment of “Are you sure you don’t need a therapist?” Oh well. I like it kinda, even if it’s old.
Nathaniel makes a joke about something and Vance laughs so hard, he falls off the thin wall we’re sitting on. I smile, but I don’t really get why we’re laughing. I didn’t even hear the joke.
Also i wrote another extract-ish thing on that really old language assignment (which isnt THAT old i guess but yeah). I like the plot but i’m too lazy to actually sit and write it..
“Call me Lanni,” She told him. Tod scowled.
“Ms. Stebern, please leave the area before I start doing something you wouldn’t want to see.”
Languora laughed. Insane, Tod thought, and it was a little scary, if he was completely honest to himself. She looked like she was having a psychotic breakdown, and despite his many years of experience with psychopaths, he wasn’t all that fond of them. Continue reading
So my friend needed help with an essay and the bolded line is what she had to start with. So I helped her out. There was a word limit so it’s not long but yeah, decided to post it.
It was almost midnight and I was about to go to sleep when i heard a loud knock on the door.It was nothing new. There was always a loud, impatient knock on the door at this time now. And that was on good days. Normally there was a loud banging before it was thrown open to reveal an impatient – sometimes furious – looking Aesha in the door way. Sometimes he didn’t even knock, just barged in without permission to sit at the edge of my bed and judge me in my ways of doing whatever I was doing.
“Come in,” I called, and the door opened. He floated in, looking as graceful as an angel – oh, the irony – and did exactly what I’d expected him to do: sat down on my bed.
“Just because you’re like, my Devil now doesn’t mean you can just come here whenever you like, you know,” I told him. “What if my mom was here?”
“No worries,” he said. “You’re my Contractor. Your mom can’t see me.”
“I asked you to help me with revenge, not invasion of privacy. MY privacy.”
Aesha grinned, showing off his perfect white teeth. “Maybe you didn’t read the fine print.”
I rolled my eyes and turned back to my homework. Ever since I’d decided that I wanted revenge for my father’s murder, and did what my mom would classify as number one on the list of Unthinkable Acts of Stupidity – selling my soul to the Devil, to be precise – I had not known peace. I mean, of course, technically it was peaceful, but for me, it was hell – which is funny, because Devils are supposed to live in hell, so maybe it all makes sense. Either way, it’s annoying.
I sneaked a peek at Aesha, who was now playing Flappy Bird on my phone, and stared at the Devils’ Insignia carved into the flesh on his collarbone. It was strange to think of Devils as so humane looking. Aesha was just a normal guy, like everyone else I knew. There was nothing that could allow you to differentiate between him and any other guy you saw on the streets. The Insignia was never visible, and even if it was, tattoos were too common for it to be anything outside the norm.
I touched my own Mark, on the same spot as his. I’d made the Contract with him almost twenty days ago. I’d sold him my soul in return for help with my revenge. The Mark would disappear when the Contract conditions were fulfilled. Then he’d move on and find a new person to help; a new soul in exchange for a wish. I wondered how many he’d made before me. How many souls he’d collected; how many Contractors he’d made bonds with. And me, well, after this was over, I would die. I’d die painfully and in the most gruesome way possible. Old Man Grim next door told me about his brother, who’d Contracted with the Devil and died – paralysis while crossing the street, and run over by an oncoming car. I didn’t know what to expect for myself.
“I’m hungry,” Aesha said, getting up and leaving the room. I stared at his retreating figure before shaking my head to clear my mind of gruesome thoughts. Better to focus on the present, and maybe deal with the homework first.
I might have liked to write a longer thing on this but I’m too lazy..
So once, during physics I think, I asked my friend for a word, and she said ‘fish’, and this happened. I’m not sure how to complete this though, so if you guys have like, ideas or something, then gimmeeee. I mean, if you even want me to finish this, which I don’t think anyone would because it’s admittedly very, very stupid. But it’s like a year old, so you can’t blame me. I’ve changed.
I hate fish. I despise fish.
When I was young, I used to run around screaming at the very mention of the beastly things, flailing my arms and leaving my parents to explain to the curious onlookers that I had my ‘eccentricities’ and that the doctor said I would be alright.
It didn’t irk me as much at the time, as it did later, when I learnt that people were deathly scared of having their children interact with ‘that Laura girl’ who, according to her mother, was mentally unstable. It didn’t help my reputation in any way whatsoever.
Even my so-called ‘friends’ left me alone, after the social outcast label started stretching to them as well, for remaining in the fish-girl’s company for more than need be. Continue reading