I call a ‘Pause’ on my challenge! I’ve got a migraine and it’s stopping me from getting any writing done. I’ll continue it tomorrow! Sorry!
He glanced at his watch impatiently. He did not know why he did it. The thing stopped working centuries ago. Time was a thing of the past since he found he was immortal. There were no urges to suck blood or howl at the moon. He simply stopped aging. His heart kept beating ad he was as normal as any human that needed food, except for the fact that he did not need to breathe and he never gets sick.
“You’re late,” he said.
“What is late?” she said.
“Ah, that’s right, the people of this world have no concept of time, well, not the time that I knew of years back.”
It’s another day where I’m just hanging against the wall. You don’t notice me as much as you did when you first put me up here. You look at me from time to time, but the looks are fleeting. All you do is poke and prod at me when you need to. It hurts. It always does. Those punctures will never heal and you just seem to keep at it. There are times where you impale your unknowing and innocent victims against me. You’re a monster, but I love you and I’m here to serve only you. Other people have impaled other victims on me, but I resent that. Only you have the right to be near me.
No matter how painful some days may get, I still long for the moments you stare at me. The satisfaction I see in your eyes as you rearrange the victims on me. I feel loved when you fill me with your impaling instruments. It just means that you need me and I’m here to help.
Ahh, the life of a cork board is not that easy. I pity those papers and those pushpins really hurt. My mind is twisted at times, just hanging here, waiting to hold your important notices and be of use.
What a sad, masochistic object! Haha.
Be inspired everyone! That was my challenge for the day!
Alright, another thing. I am terrible at poetry and I have no plans of doing any of the poetry challenges. Instead of a poem, I’ll be making short stories or blobs of things I can consider as “creative writing”. Moving on… today’s challenge!
Her blue eyes shined through the dreary grey that surrounded us. High school is a bitch. It’s the worst time to be awkward and a loner. She was one of them, the outcasts. The dull weather did not help the low feelings showing in her eyes. I observed her from afar because I was an awkward loner as well. It’s not that I was a stereotypical geek or nerd. I kept the athletic half of my high school life away from the spotlight and the academic half for all to see.
Enough about me.
Mistrust, it’s the one thing I’ve always seen in her eyes. I’ve always wondered why that was so. I learned she was a transfer student during our freshman year, but still two years later, she’s still alone and miserable. She walked along the halls like a ghost. No one ever noticed her or even pushed her aside. It was like she did not exist to anyone, except for me. I wanted to know her, but I was too afraid to talk to her.
It was after class and like everyday, my mind was focused on her. I went to the unused auditorium located at the far end of our school. I spent my afternoons there whenever the drama club had no productions to work on, which was not very often. It was one of my rare escapes. Luckily, someone left a guitar on the stage. It was one of my guilty pleasures. Only my family knew that I played the guitar. They were all too familiar with my fear of performing.
I held the guitar in my hands, feeling the smooth wood and the tight strings. I closed my eyes and started to play. In my mind, I could see her. Those blue eyes, the soft brown hair, and the delicate face were what filled my mind as I listed to the twang of each guitar string I plucked.
As my fingers slowly came to a stop, the images of her faded away into black. I was left with my own thoughts and the guitar in my hands. I felt the longing for her. It was driving me mad, but my own fears and insecurities held me back. I sighed, opening my eyes and putting the guitar back where I found it.
“That was beautiful.”
I turned around with a snap, not expecting anyone to be in here, but I relaxed when I was met with a familiar pair of blue eyes. The blue eyes I’ve longed for so long.
I hope this was acceptable for my challenge entry for the day!
The blond haired Slytherin prefect made his way down one of the nameless and numerous moving staircases. The two buffoons that were always with him were somehow not at his side. He took his time going down each step, feeling more and more vulnerable without his sidekicks at his side. Everyone thought he was just a weakling that hid behind his friends. If only they knew how true it was, then it would mean he was nothing.
The sound of falling books broke his pitiful reverie. His eyes immediately locked on the brown, frizzy hair of the only girl in the whole school who made him cry, Hermione Granger.
“Need some help, Granger?” Continue reading
It’s been days since I last saw my sister. We were trapped in this forsaken forest for days before we got separated. Damn our father for making us tread into this cursed place. Just hours ago, I heard my sister scream in horror. I remember racing towards her voice, but the sound of snapping jaws, growls, and howls stopped me in my tracks. In seconds, her screaming stopped, silenced forever.
Poor Gretel. I’m so sorry I wasn’t able to save you.
I’m already nearing death and my sanity is wearing thin. I learned to evade the wolves and to feed off the earth, but it’s not enough to keep me alive. My body grows weaker and weaker as the minutes go by. I can hear the trees taunting me and telling me to give up. The river calls me to her. She lulls me into a trance. Her waves beg me to join them. I wonder if I’m strong enough to resist. I end up sitting by the river the whole evening and the sun’s early rays break me free from the river’s tempting hold. I move on along the river’s path downstream. I see smoke billow above the thin part of the trees. It meant that there was a place of refuge. My feet pick up speed and I find mysef before an old cabin. It appears to be ordinary from a distance, but as I get closer, I see the cabin’s true form. It is made of every food I could think of. There are sweets, meats, and so much more. The cabin is a feast for anyone who comes across it. Without another thought, I dig my teeth into the very walls that hold the food cabin up. The smell of the food fills my nose, but I soon realize that something has gone wrong. My mouth is filled with wooden splinters, which I immediately, but struggle to spit out.
“You foolish boy, you’ve fallen under my trap.”
I look to the cabin’s entrance and see a woman standing at the doorway. She stands tall and an ornate cloak adorns her body. Her cheeks are pink and her eyes full of life. Her body appears to be so soft and supple. She circles around me and I follow her with my gaze.
“You try to eat my house, so now, I must eat you, soul and all.”
Those words echo in my mind as I feel the rush of the warm and filling blood gush down my throat. The meat of her neck mashing nicely in my mouth.
Finally, real food.
Well, that’s my take on Hansel and Gretel, obviously. Happy Bloody Valentine’s Day!
I honestly suck as a blogger! The last leg of my master’s degree is one hell of a ride. It’s been keeping me stressed and blank on my writing! The 2nd anniversary of my blog is coming up next month. By then, I hope to be free to write as I wish. I’m planning to do a 30-day writing challenge starting on my blog’s anniversary. If anyone would like to suggest a great 30-day challenge, it would be greatly appreciated. I prefer one that requires you to write short stories or something similar to that. Well, I’ll post again next month and be more consistent, hopefully.