She was distressed. His eyes always landed on someone that wasn’t her. She cared for him, really cared. And she thought he did too. She watched him talk, watched him flirt and roam. She watched with her hand clasped tightly onto her drink, her throat becoming increasingly tight. He laughed happily and loudly, touching the women gently with his hand. It was always on the shoulder, the small of their back, their arm or waist.
The reasons why I write are the reasons why I have coped with all the crap thrown at me in my life.
We all end up going through a tough time. I know that feeling. But when someone we have been friends with for a long time hurts us during that time, we sometimes retaliate in the worst ways and hurt ourselves in the process. But we need to let go of that friendship. If they weren’t there for you, they weren’t meant to be your friend. We just need to let go of our mistakes. And when it gets to the point where you are lying to each other about your true selves, you really need to let go. This is a same situation, and letting go of it.
These are the last things I ever thought about of my bullies. What I would like to have said, about how they made me feel and how I’ve risen above them. I know they are all going down the wrong path, and I find it satisfying. I know it sounds cruel, but it’s their choices. The choose to bully me, so I have no positive feelings towards them. Just yeah…
She didn’t know how long she’d been doing this for. Maybe years, months or days. She couldn’t keep track of time, when she didn’t belong in any era. She hopped along the time continuum, and hoped for a place she could stay in for a while. She made friends, and then left hopping to another era, to find them old or dead. She made a resolution, to not make any more friends, so she could spare herself the heartbreak.
(Just a story I wrote for a competition, but forgot to ever enter. So yeah, enjoy!
The smell of the sewers wrapped around the smell of the mildew. I stared through the hole in the wall. Outside grumbles and groans resounded through the air. Someone moaned and I darted backwards. My breathing was loud in the quiet room. Something rattled and I jerked up. I dashed to the back of the room. I grabbed my gun and poised it in the air. The rattling came closer, followed by nonsensical moaning. I aimed it at the door, pulling the sight of the gun up to my eye. I squeezed one eye shut and rested my finger on the trigger. The door burst open. BANG! It falls. It crawls back up, angry. Blood dripping from the mouth, arms outstretched. BANG!
I wasn’t aware of it at the time, but I was a big favourite with the Mafia.
Arthur stared boredly at the bouncy man in front of him. Alfred was feeling all hyped up at the moment, and was on a high due to having finally successfully completed a job. Arthur just picked up his cigarette again, and took a long drag from it, before squashing it forcefully onto the ash tray.
“You’re going to break the chair.” Arthur stated with a loud sigh. Alfred looked at him, and froze on his chair. But he’d managed to freeze in a state of halfway up and halfway down, so he fell down onto the chair forcefully. The chair gave way with a loud crash and the chair and Alfred both fell. Arthur just raised an eyebrow at him.
“I told you.” He mumbled while lighting yet another cigarette. “I don’t bloody care if you break it, but the frog isn’t going to be happy.” Arthur always referred to his French partner in crime this way. Said Frenchman had decided to come into the room, and saw the heap on his floor, consisting of his chair and Alfred.
“Mon dieu! My chair!” Francis wailed, putting his hand on his forehead and swooning. Arthur blanched at him, but rolled his eyes. Alfred smiled goofily, but scrambled up quickly and sat with Arthur.
“Did you find out the meeting place or not, Francis?” Arthur hissed, getting tired of Francis’s charades. Francis recovered quickly, and smiled brightly.
“I did mon ami.”
“And, where in bloody hell is it?”
“The abandoned warehouse on Court Street, mate.” Jack cooed, coming into the room followed by his cousins. Alfred had many cousins, whom were all preoccupied at the moment of securing their location. Jack was an Australian man, broad and big, quite scary really. He was a long lost relative of Alfred’s and Arthur’s, whom just appeared out of the blue.
Hello and welcome to my second blog! I mainly reside over here: http://ewmyname.tumblr.com/
But over here I will be writing my stories and such! So make yourself at home! This will not be a overly used blog but it’ll be fun!!!