dareguild
Only partially. Not whole. Twins. Only one part. Never enough. Split both ways.
Thick. Goes on forever. I cannot think. My skull, gah, it be dense. The cement walls of the house, they keep it from falling. Keep it strong in the storm. Survive.
The swings began to move with the wind. As if a parent was lightly pushing their child forward in them. And slide began to creak. There was not a soul in sight and the moonlight was the only thing allowing me to see. It was gorgeous. How the moonlight shone down on everything. Touching every last detail. And I was alone. Blissfully alone.
There were many plastic bags, full of individual pieces of evidence. All kept in a simple cardboard box. Those shards of plastic could put a man into prison for life. Sentence him to death. And they are kept in a simple plastic bag in a simple cardboard box. That is all.
I felt the pressure. In my chest. I couldn't breath and I began gasping for air. I managed to choke out, 'GET OFF OF ME.' Slowly. Oh so slowly. The words barely escaped through my clenched teeth. Little slivers of air escaping.
Field hockey. I love it so much but it SUCKS UP MY LIFE. I love drama. Techies rule. But it SUCKS UP MY LIFE. Swimming. Inkwell. School. Homework. Boyfriend. When do I have time to do the things I WANT? When can I spend time with my family?
One hundred percent. One hundred and ten percent. I am all in. This is the last of my money. I got two queens in my hand. Oh goodness. This better work out. I have nothing left.
The water is rimmed against the dock. Frothy. Dirty. Gross. I look out to the clear blue open waters of Portland. Blasting blue. Dots of islands. Gorgeous. I can't wait to go out there. The sailboat bumps against the dock, the orange buoys keeping it safe.
The dark trees loomed ahead. The gloomy shadows hiding most of the white light from the moon. Only little slivers of light appeared on the ground. I was low, in the shrubs, hiding. The leaves brushed across my face. They scratched along my arms. Itched around my knee. Tickled my fingers. And the footsteps continued about 30 feet down the dirt path. Coming closer the steps became louder the I could see tiny little particles of dirt swirling in the slivers of moonlight. I jumped out of the brush and grabbed the jeans right in front of me.
"Gotcha!"
The party is in full swing. Streamers flutter to the floor and mingle with the rainbow balloons. The music blares out of the speakers on either side of the room. And boom blasts out and pops my eardrums.
writing since 2011 · 15 entries · 13 days shown up
each square is a day — lit means you showed up.
8longest streak
13days written
0.1entries / week
the words you reach for
lovefairytalehelpcannotblacksliversmoonlightbeganplasticsimpleletterbetterstarlafuturekids