bell418

bell418

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Photography had been her solace. She saw things differently when through a lens-- the rays of light through the trees became a doorway to heaven, the clouds in the sky were ships waiting to dock.

I looked up from the ground, into those unforgiving eyes. They mocked me, waiting for me to bow, to submit. But I am no servant, and I kneel to no man.

scan

She scanned the crowd, searching diligently for any sign of disturbance. People waited, eyes twitching, roaming for answers. Nothing. Wait- There, in the back. A murmur.

He held onto the handlebars of the bike, peddling quickly out of sight of the trio of uniformed officers searching for him.

The water glistened with the reflection of stars, sailboats traveling the distance between the dots, connecting them like a map.

This version of my shouldn't exist. She's vile, psychotic, completely evil to the core. And she's after me. All I can do now is fight for my right to exist.

The melodic sound of a harmonica drifted through the abandoned building, bouncing off the peeling walls eerily as the teenagers made there way through the wreckage. They looked around for the source, but it was impossible. It was coming from everywhere at once.

The gray package lay just outside the door, untouched, unopened, undisturbed. It lay in wait for its next victim: the young girl padding her way to the front door after hearing the unmistakable chimes of the door bell.

windy

They marched through the windy streets, a frightening and confusing sight to everyone now leaving their homes to see what was happening. The soldiers' feet pounded on the concrete, sending a resounding 'thump' throughout the neighborhood.

This was a broken world, with broken people and a broken government. So broken that no one tried too hard to put it back together again. When someone finally sprouted from the rubble with a plan for redemption, they were quickly quieted- pulled like a weed from the dirt. There was no redemption here. This is no-man's land, Hell brought up to earth.

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writing since 2015 · 22 entries · 22 days shown up

each square is a day—lit means Isabella showed up.

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on this day 9 years ago

Isabella wrote about windy
“They marched through the windy streets, a frightening and confusing sight to everyone now leaving their homes to see what was happening. The soldiers' feet pounded on the concrete, sending a resoundi…”

the words Isabella reaches for

younglaynowbrokeneyeswaitingoutsidenoticedistancestooddoorhurtbeneathlookingbirdwatching