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Literature Text
My name?
My name is Malorie.
My age?
Seventeen.
Why am I here?
Hah, obvious reasons.
It's not as bad as it would seem.
Sure, the end sucks, but it always does.
And being here, you're never alone.
Which is both good and bad. Good 'cause you're never lost on your own, and bad 'cause you can't be alone. But, like I've already said, the end...it sucks.
And it's weird too, don't forget outright weird. It's like you're invisible; a simple being that's neither here nor there. But that's probably obvious, I'm sure a bunch of people are already aware of that.
But, there's shit out here you aren't aware of. And you won't be until it's time. But it's not time yet. I suggest if you're reading this, listen carefully.
Did you hear it?
Well, listen again.
Nothing, eh?
Well good, because this is just a dream. You're not actually standing here, reading our graves, stomping over our caskets, a flashlight in hand as it shakes slightly from fear. You're not actually here to witness the end happen. This is a dream.
Isn't it?
That's what you thought, what you were convinced of before you saw it... The woods glowed faintly, the thunder overhead crashed violently, you took a few steps back, almost tripping over Annie.
Gusts of wind are biting at your clothes, sinking their teeth into your skin but you're hardly noticing. The glow is getting brighter, your eyes are watering, you want to wipe away the tears that fall but you're frozen in shock.
Then the crack appears. The earth, the ground, is splitting in two and your eyes are widening in surprise. You want to run but your legs are glued to the spot. Suddenly, as if out of nowhere, we appear to you. You scream in panic, wanting to run, wanting to hide but you're unable to.
My cold, lifeless skin is pale against the color of the night, my eyes stare at you in wonder. And I express it equally in my words, "You can see us?"
Your head snaps towards my direction and your lips quiver as you nod your head. I frown slightly, glancing at the others, the words fall quietly out of my mouth.
"Well, what do you know? Now is the time."
My name is Malorie.
My age?
Seventeen.
Why am I here?
Hah, obvious reasons.
It's not as bad as it would seem.
Sure, the end sucks, but it always does.
And being here, you're never alone.
Which is both good and bad. Good 'cause you're never lost on your own, and bad 'cause you can't be alone. But, like I've already said, the end...it sucks.
And it's weird too, don't forget outright weird. It's like you're invisible; a simple being that's neither here nor there. But that's probably obvious, I'm sure a bunch of people are already aware of that.
But, there's shit out here you aren't aware of. And you won't be until it's time. But it's not time yet. I suggest if you're reading this, listen carefully.
Did you hear it?
Well, listen again.
Nothing, eh?
Well good, because this is just a dream. You're not actually standing here, reading our graves, stomping over our caskets, a flashlight in hand as it shakes slightly from fear. You're not actually here to witness the end happen. This is a dream.
Isn't it?
That's what you thought, what you were convinced of before you saw it... The woods glowed faintly, the thunder overhead crashed violently, you took a few steps back, almost tripping over Annie.
Gusts of wind are biting at your clothes, sinking their teeth into your skin but you're hardly noticing. The glow is getting brighter, your eyes are watering, you want to wipe away the tears that fall but you're frozen in shock.
Then the crack appears. The earth, the ground, is splitting in two and your eyes are widening in surprise. You want to run but your legs are glued to the spot. Suddenly, as if out of nowhere, we appear to you. You scream in panic, wanting to run, wanting to hide but you're unable to.
My cold, lifeless skin is pale against the color of the night, my eyes stare at you in wonder. And I express it equally in my words, "You can see us?"
Your head snaps towards my direction and your lips quiver as you nod your head. I frown slightly, glancing at the others, the words fall quietly out of my mouth.
"Well, what do you know? Now is the time."
So I really wanted to upload something and I'm working on a Traditional piece but it's not finished and I wanted to write. I wanted to write some poetry, but not in rhyme and longer too, and somehow, allowing my mind to drift into writing, I wrote this. ^_^
I 'hope' the Italics worked but it's my first time trying it so I have no idea what to expect.
What's going on in this: The narrator, Malorie, is dead and among other spirits in the cemetary, you [as the reader] came to the cemetary and have now witnessed something really strange happen and the sudden ability for you to see a bunch of dead people. And so, it is now 'the time' and what it's time for is a battle.
I don't know what to make of this, I've only ever written poetry in this sort of way but you can probably notice the point where it got more descriptive -- that's more like my writing. Continue or not? I have no idea, how does it sound?
[Started May 8.2010]
I 'hope' the Italics worked but it's my first time trying it so I have no idea what to expect.
What's going on in this: The narrator, Malorie, is dead and among other spirits in the cemetary, you [as the reader] came to the cemetary and have now witnessed something really strange happen and the sudden ability for you to see a bunch of dead people. And so, it is now 'the time' and what it's time for is a battle.
I don't know what to make of this, I've only ever written poetry in this sort of way but you can probably notice the point where it got more descriptive -- that's more like my writing. Continue or not? I have no idea, how does it sound?
[Started May 8.2010]
© 2010 - 2024 H-Everybody-Lies--MD
Comments83
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Wow, a little darker then I expected but very good 