She was his charge. He hated it sometimes, like when she threw things at him. They didn’t damage his scales, but the noise as they shattered and splintered scared him. When there was nothing left to throw, she would taunt him, calling him “Monster”.
“Freak”.
“Evil”.
These words damaged him less than the plates and chairs.
(they were just air).
But somehow they were what kept him from sleep, from the Great Dream, and he despised her for it.
But then when she was sleeping, he would open her door at the top of the tower. He would crawl to the side of her bed, making no noise as to not wake her. And as he looked upon her, her hair silvered in the moonlight, he realized his duty wasn’t so bad. Just lonely.
she was in a hospital. a mental ward. whatever you would call it. a “mental hospital”. it wasn’t her fault. her mother’s, maybe. who knows. or, could it be her fault. no one really knew. her dad was dead, and that was that. all she could hear was heavy breathing, her own? questions where everything in her head. her head hurt. everything hurt. everything was white.
Jason
Of the state? I instantly tried to think of the definition of this word and all I could come up with was that first line. Being a ward is hard I would imagine. Having someone make decisions for you that may not be the best. UGH!
Try to ward off the pain as long as you can. The pain of him. The anxiety of schoolwork, of indecision, malcontent. Are you the ward of yourself, or just some mass of flesh that doesn’t deserve to be? Drink your coffee, stay up late, ruminate. It can’t be helped.
Amanda Yaya-Nouvet
ward, is like a huge place in my mind because anytime i see a ward it is allways a huge thing i dont even know anymore you feel me????
shane
sections of places
different names for
similar spaces
the lines that divide,
are the ones we draw
as imaginary
as time
we still set our watches
and list our addresses
as though it
weren’t
Funny this word should come up. The man I love is going in for treatments. He’s strong, kind, the right man for me from the start, though I didn’t always know it. My mother gave birth to me. He gave me a new life. Away from abuse, poverty, sorrow. I am afraid. Ward off the cancer. Please.
nyla
I pushed my hands on the double doors and the smell of disinfectant hit my nostrils in an instant. This was a place of medicine, of illness and of sanitised cruelty. I wondered if I would ever leave those doors on my feet.
Morris and Clara had been called to appear before the committee. Clara had told a few people about what she had seen, and rumours had spread quickly. The committee was not pleased, as rumours did not help the colony function as a cohesive unit, which was essential to its survival. Now that people were afraid of some monster in the dark zone, there would be discord, there would be uncertainty. Now they would have to assign precious resources to warding off the threat from her “monster”, and eventually come up with evidence to prove that the threat it posed had been neutralised. Both of these acts would prove to be a waste of effort that they could not afford. And they would hold Clara responsible for that.
tonykeyesjapan
smell of spirit. white uniformed nurses, some smiling, some scowling, some devoid of expression. a cry here, a whisper there, a wail from somewhere. all these sprinkled among anxious faces, smiling faces, wordless white noisy chatter.
The doctors entered the ward where the patient was sitting trying to slide out of his chains. They had a long day ahead of them but promised they could make some leeway.
Protection. A ward is someone who will keep me safe, protection me from all the malicious sources of the world. I seek to be a ward from danger to others, the immovable object, the shield for everyone to look to. I will protect humanity and those i love.
Charlie
They called it “Johnson’s Ward” which ultimately served to drive a wedge between The Ward and other neighborhoods due to the connotation that it was a secluded, clinical place for the mentally unwell.
The guinea pig became the sun within the dungeon of space and time. I took the time to realize that what the sun was asking was of myself. I asked the dungeon,”What do you beg of me this time? What is the task of the guinea pig?”
The sun stared in disrespect of the ways of the guinea pig. ” The task of the sandwich is what the master guinea pig has asked for. Come to the flower filled planet of demons, and I shall show you the ways of the moon as well as the sun.”
Never in my full nine lives had I ever heard the deep voice of the rays of light, and never again I would. “I shall follow you to the planet of the flowery fields, but you must befriend me. Befriend me you must.”
The sun ‘s eyes took away the wondering tone in my head. Voices flew out into the star filled skies, and the earth and sun combined into a blinding light. “Follow me my child,” I heard the sun say. “Follow me.”
aviva minkoff
gjorpjeoyji54thitjhijhtiorhj[t4ijip’hrtjop’throj’phrtotihotpihptykpuk[ytklfhtklgjmhjtkgnkfgho;filjktnlkjgklnkfjnlfgkmk;MGFkgfkfglhltykhkmhklhmgfmlmhghlmhgfg;lhml;ghlm;y jtllm’hbfbggdlmtknlgdfkphtloghkfl;osgirkoklthk[ptk[pt6
kpytkp[k
ty[kypk[tpykyp[lt’;’h;,.mjp;hg,kjpykjnp]knnl,kn,lhkgfhhbdycngchhfhfdfhfelefuugdsgiufsgufosgidgyidfsgidfsgiydfgiufguidfsguisfguidfugifsdguidsuigiudfgdfgguiiugguigiugiuiuuifitdxhxfrsww46e75r687tgikgbjkknlknknlkuiyugigfestfxgyrcgjhvkjlbbjkln.k;nm;lkrthkntrklnhktnkgf.,fmngkrnkgnitjhgkfm kmgk nhkg omg what is that this sis the dhuchuigufguvhiurhdfuihdfthnvnckkc ckckckckckckckckckckckckcckckkcfufucllc
amy
The traffic ward was sweating like a guinea pig. He was on the pick of what was one of the hottest middays in July. All fleas, bees and musquitos left him alone. They pitied him.
Stef
Ward off evil spirits with guinea pig poo, wrap it in celophane and put in your shoe.
within the walls, within my own little prison there is a bird sitting on top of an end table. the table has three legs and is probably made from cherry wood, i’m not entirely sure what the bird is doing there, it’s turquoise and chatters on merrily, as the empty halls of that prison slowly begin to accumulate dust, as i haven’t visited there in several years.
she tried to ward off the evil by burning strange herbs at her doorstep just as darkness began to set in every evening. but she could never escape the feeling that she was being strangled from inside.
Anu
I slowly strolled down the hospital ward only to find what I had been afraid to see for so long. It came gushing, like a river current, unable to stop yet with the hope to prosper.
Jasmine
Wards are very important. Mostly for botlane since it is the main focus of the enemy junglers.
I usally win my lane but then the enemy jungler turns it around.
I Would love to have a jungler that counter ganks hardly, it would snowball the lane and the game so hard. but they usually just afk farm and blame me for not playing safe.
Luís Rocha
Mental ward…a place to go when you don’t want to make your bed or have anywhere to go. You get fed..and just walk around and meet all the crazies. Hmmmm it’s not so bad.
Carla
There is a girl who lives in a palace, who dresses like a princess and bears the manner of a queen.
She is, however, not the queen, the princess, or even a proper lady at all. Not anymore, at least.
No, now she is a ward of the king, a living, breathing example of what happens to women who find themselves ensnared in the games of men. It matters not that she – a mere child during the rebellions that erased her birthright – played no part in the ‘festivities’; her fate is sealed in the name she bears, in the blood that pumps through her very veins.
The ward was filled to the brink, it was such a bad time with the World War 2 going on. Every minute patients were being brought in. there were children, teen’s and adults. that what i think was happening in the World War 2.
she didn’t like the ward much because what she remembered of it was the sheer mindless boredom of time passing without having anything to do at all.
I.
I was in the ward with a child. I didn’t know the child but she seemed to be very uncomfortable about being there. I had been on an errand of my own and just happened to stop in here for a look at some books that I had heard about. What should I do?
Anita
the prisoner walked back to their cell. the entire ward felt like something you’d see in the movie girl interrupted. the one where suzanna finds herself in a place where everyone is crazier than her. she wasn’t like everyone else. not in the real world, or in the new ward.
the prisoner heard the cell door close. she was the same.
joon
school is out for summer yeah yeah. I really need a break to clear my head! I think that this has to ppen soo
she stared out the window, there were trees in front of her eyes, but what she were distant memories. She was stuck in a ward in her mind. where is the cure?
chantelle
The ward was sealed off from guests, which meant today, I would be alone in my room again. The judge had not come this morning like she had promised, to properly analyze and interview me, to see if I could finally get out of this hellhole. I was left with nurses with stiff white collars and rigid trays of multicolored pills that I was expected to swallow dry. The least they could have done was provide me some water. Maybe a shot of whiskey.
Belinda Roddie
The state called him her ward, some less than kind members of the LAPD called him Darth Raydor’s charity case. The one thing the Wicked Witch had ever done that didn’t screw someone else. Emma Rios called him a whore-phan and as angry as she was she knew there were others who still called him a hooker behind both their backs.
she slid the knife across her palm and dipped her fingers into the blood that pooled there. the book sat open before her. the ink on the pages had faded, but she should still make out enough to draw the warding symbol across the glass of the window. as she closed off the circle, the angel landed outside the window and stared at her, dark wings spread wide in threat
You’ll notice one thing about me, and that is that I love to scare people. And I mean rough. I once scared my brother into thinking he would grow a watermelon in his stomach if he ate the seeds (which he consumed seven already). I know it sounds like a little thing, but to this day my brother seems to have the slightest aversion to gardens.
Zak
Ward me off? Who the fuck does she think she is?
I’ll tell you, she’s the love of my life. Her pretentious tone when she berates me brings me to my knees and quiver. It’s surprisingly anticlimactic, don’t get me wrong. I think it’s just humorous to think that I fell for a grade A bitch.
She was his charge. He hated it sometimes, like when she threw things at him. They didn’t damage his scales, but the noise as they shattered and splintered scared him. When there was nothing left to throw, she would taunt him, calling him “Monster”.
“Freak”.
“Evil”.
These words damaged him less than the plates and chairs.
(they were just air).
But somehow they were what kept him from sleep, from the Great Dream, and he despised her for it.
But then when she was sleeping, he would open her door at the top of the tower. He would crawl to the side of her bed, making no noise as to not wake her. And as he looked upon her, her hair silvered in the moonlight, he realized his duty wasn’t so bad. Just lonely.
she was in a hospital. a mental ward. whatever you would call it. a “mental hospital”. it wasn’t her fault. her mother’s, maybe. who knows. or, could it be her fault. no one really knew. her dad was dead, and that was that. all she could hear was heavy breathing, her own? questions where everything in her head. her head hurt. everything hurt. everything was white.
Of the state? I instantly tried to think of the definition of this word and all I could come up with was that first line. Being a ward is hard I would imagine. Having someone make decisions for you that may not be the best. UGH!
Try to ward off the pain as long as you can. The pain of him. The anxiety of schoolwork, of indecision, malcontent. Are you the ward of yourself, or just some mass of flesh that doesn’t deserve to be? Drink your coffee, stay up late, ruminate. It can’t be helped.
ward, is like a huge place in my mind because anytime i see a ward it is allways a huge thing i dont even know anymore you feel me????
sections of places
different names for
similar spaces
the lines that divide,
are the ones we draw
as imaginary
as time
we still set our watches
and list our addresses
as though it
weren’t
Funny this word should come up. The man I love is going in for treatments. He’s strong, kind, the right man for me from the start, though I didn’t always know it. My mother gave birth to me. He gave me a new life. Away from abuse, poverty, sorrow. I am afraid. Ward off the cancer. Please.
I pushed my hands on the double doors and the smell of disinfectant hit my nostrils in an instant. This was a place of medicine, of illness and of sanitised cruelty. I wondered if I would ever leave those doors on my feet.
Morris and Clara had been called to appear before the committee. Clara had told a few people about what she had seen, and rumours had spread quickly. The committee was not pleased, as rumours did not help the colony function as a cohesive unit, which was essential to its survival. Now that people were afraid of some monster in the dark zone, there would be discord, there would be uncertainty. Now they would have to assign precious resources to warding off the threat from her “monster”, and eventually come up with evidence to prove that the threat it posed had been neutralised. Both of these acts would prove to be a waste of effort that they could not afford. And they would hold Clara responsible for that.
smell of spirit. white uniformed nurses, some smiling, some scowling, some devoid of expression. a cry here, a whisper there, a wail from somewhere. all these sprinkled among anxious faces, smiling faces, wordless white noisy chatter.
The doctors entered the ward where the patient was sitting trying to slide out of his chains. They had a long day ahead of them but promised they could make some leeway.
Protection. A ward is someone who will keep me safe, protection me from all the malicious sources of the world. I seek to be a ward from danger to others, the immovable object, the shield for everyone to look to. I will protect humanity and those i love.
They called it “Johnson’s Ward” which ultimately served to drive a wedge between The Ward and other neighborhoods due to the connotation that it was a secluded, clinical place for the mentally unwell.
The guinea pig became the sun within the dungeon of space and time. I took the time to realize that what the sun was asking was of myself. I asked the dungeon,”What do you beg of me this time? What is the task of the guinea pig?”
The sun stared in disrespect of the ways of the guinea pig. ” The task of the sandwich is what the master guinea pig has asked for. Come to the flower filled planet of demons, and I shall show you the ways of the moon as well as the sun.”
Never in my full nine lives had I ever heard the deep voice of the rays of light, and never again I would. “I shall follow you to the planet of the flowery fields, but you must befriend me. Befriend me you must.”
The sun ‘s eyes took away the wondering tone in my head. Voices flew out into the star filled skies, and the earth and sun combined into a blinding light. “Follow me my child,” I heard the sun say. “Follow me.”
gjorpjeoyji54thitjhijhtiorhj[t4ijip’hrtjop’throj’phrtotihotpihptykpuk[ytklfhtklgjmhjtkgnkfgho;filjktnlkjgklnkfjnlfgkmk;MGFkgfkfglhltykhkmhklhmgfmlmhghlmhgfg;lhml;ghlm;y jtllm’hbfbggdlmtknlgdfkphtloghkfl;osgirkoklthk[ptk[pt6
kpytkp[k
ty[kypk[tpykyp[lt’;’h;,.mjp;hg,kjpykjnp]knnl,kn,lhkgfhhbdycngchhfhfdfhfelefuugdsgiufsgufosgidgyidfsgidfsgiydfgiufguidfsguisfguidfugifsdguidsuigiudfgdfgguiiugguigiugiuiuuifitdxhxfrsww46e75r687tgikgbjkknlknknlkuiyugigfestfxgyrcgjhvkjlbbjkln.k;nm;lkrthkntrklnhktnkgf.,fmngkrnkgnitjhgkfm kmgk nhkg omg what is that this sis the dhuchuigufguvhiurhdfuihdfthnvnckkc ckckckckckckckckckckckckcckckkcfufucllc
The traffic ward was sweating like a guinea pig. He was on the pick of what was one of the hottest middays in July. All fleas, bees and musquitos left him alone. They pitied him.
Ward off evil spirits with guinea pig poo, wrap it in celophane and put in your shoe.
There was no way to ward off the bees. She knew this as soon as she noticed the soft buzzing grow louder.
hospitals, injuries wounded.
within the walls, within my own little prison there is a bird sitting on top of an end table. the table has three legs and is probably made from cherry wood, i’m not entirely sure what the bird is doing there, it’s turquoise and chatters on merrily, as the empty halls of that prison slowly begin to accumulate dust, as i haven’t visited there in several years.
she tried to ward off the evil by burning strange herbs at her doorstep just as darkness began to set in every evening. but she could never escape the feeling that she was being strangled from inside.
I slowly strolled down the hospital ward only to find what I had been afraid to see for so long. It came gushing, like a river current, unable to stop yet with the hope to prosper.
Wards are very important. Mostly for botlane since it is the main focus of the enemy junglers.
I usally win my lane but then the enemy jungler turns it around.
I Would love to have a jungler that counter ganks hardly, it would snowball the lane and the game so hard. but they usually just afk farm and blame me for not playing safe.
Mental ward…a place to go when you don’t want to make your bed or have anywhere to go. You get fed..and just walk around and meet all the crazies. Hmmmm it’s not so bad.
There is a girl who lives in a palace, who dresses like a princess and bears the manner of a queen.
She is, however, not the queen, the princess, or even a proper lady at all. Not anymore, at least.
No, now she is a ward of the king, a living, breathing example of what happens to women who find themselves ensnared in the games of men. It matters not that she – a mere child during the rebellions that erased her birthright – played no part in the ‘festivities’; her fate is sealed in the name she bears, in the blood that pumps through her very veins.
The ward was filled to the brink, it was such a bad time with the World War 2 going on. Every minute patients were being brought in. there were children, teen’s and adults. that what i think was happening in the World War 2.
she didn’t like the ward much because what she remembered of it was the sheer mindless boredom of time passing without having anything to do at all.
I was in the ward with a child. I didn’t know the child but she seemed to be very uncomfortable about being there. I had been on an errand of my own and just happened to stop in here for a look at some books that I had heard about. What should I do?
the prisoner walked back to their cell. the entire ward felt like something you’d see in the movie girl interrupted. the one where suzanna finds herself in a place where everyone is crazier than her. she wasn’t like everyone else. not in the real world, or in the new ward.
the prisoner heard the cell door close. she was the same.
school is out for summer yeah yeah. I really need a break to clear my head! I think that this has to ppen soo
she stared out the window, there were trees in front of her eyes, but what she were distant memories. She was stuck in a ward in her mind. where is the cure?
The ward was sealed off from guests, which meant today, I would be alone in my room again. The judge had not come this morning like she had promised, to properly analyze and interview me, to see if I could finally get out of this hellhole. I was left with nurses with stiff white collars and rigid trays of multicolored pills that I was expected to swallow dry. The least they could have done was provide me some water. Maybe a shot of whiskey.
The state called him her ward, some less than kind members of the LAPD called him Darth Raydor’s charity case. The one thing the Wicked Witch had ever done that didn’t screw someone else. Emma Rios called him a whore-phan and as angry as she was she knew there were others who still called him a hooker behind both their backs.
She simply called him her son.
she slid the knife across her palm and dipped her fingers into the blood that pooled there. the book sat open before her. the ink on the pages had faded, but she should still make out enough to draw the warding symbol across the glass of the window. as she closed off the circle, the angel landed outside the window and stared at her, dark wings spread wide in threat
You’ll notice one thing about me, and that is that I love to scare people. And I mean rough. I once scared my brother into thinking he would grow a watermelon in his stomach if he ate the seeds (which he consumed seven already). I know it sounds like a little thing, but to this day my brother seems to have the slightest aversion to gardens.
Ward me off? Who the fuck does she think she is?
I’ll tell you, she’s the love of my life. Her pretentious tone when she berates me brings me to my knees and quiver. It’s surprisingly anticlimactic, don’t get me wrong. I think it’s just humorous to think that I fell for a grade A bitch.