|
Post by GIA ♥ on Nov 22, 2013 18:09:59 GMT -8
1. | Dice ✓ | 2. | Fireflies ✓ | 3. | Blood ✓ | 4. | Sea ✓ | 5. | Glass ✓ | 6. | Boil ✓ | 7. | Machine ✓ | 8. | Fantasy ✓ | 9. | Dog ✓ | 10. | Lust ✓ | 11. | Titan ✓ | 12. | Free | 13 | Electrify | 14. | Regret | 15. | Children | 16. | City | 17. | Waste | 18. | Smile | 19. | Shackles | 20. | Lights | 21. | Song | 22. | Holiday | 23 | Villain | 24. | Hero | 25. | Fly | 26. | Tease | 27. | Touch | 28. | Hide | 29. | Night | 30. | Naive | 31. | Animal | 32. | Hush | 33. | Soon | 34. | Still | 35. | Friend | 36. | Close | 37. | Together | 38. | Fight | 39. | Mask | 40. | Clean | 41. | Stars | 42. | Panic | 43. | The End | 44. | Text | 45. | Return | 46. | Magical girls | 47. | Gundams | 48. | Bishounen | 49. | Tentacles | 50. | Writer's Choice |
|
|
|
Post by GIA ♥ on Nov 22, 2013 19:01:57 GMT -8
01. DICE -- 250 WORDS he'd once heard that you could make a wish on dice and, if you landed two ones, that wish would come true. because he'd heard such a thing from his elder brother, he had believed it without question and had spent countless days thinking over what wish he'd like to ask the little white cubes. there was any number of things he could want; toys, new clothes, something sweet to eat, a mug of cocoa. but there was only one thing he really desired. love. some kind of value. never had he known the love of his parents who, from the very first memory he could recall, had always looked down on him with frowns of disappointment or scowls resentment. so finally, one day, he made his wish. a wish that he wasn't all alone, that he had some kind of merit. that he could be useful and make someone happy. he rolled the dice. snake eyes. the next day, on the way to get ice cream with his brother, there was an accident. a car collided with theirs. the metal could be heard twisting and scraping, the air grew hot and dense. lights flashed before his eyes as he was pulled from the wreckage. it was his fault. his parents blamed him the entire ride home. for walking away without a scratch. for walking away at all when his brother hadn't even survived. little did he know, that wish he'd made would actually come true one day.
|
|
|
Post by GIA ♥ on Nov 23, 2013 12:05:16 GMT -8
02. FIREFLIES -- 250 WORDS it was a long ride home. or maybe it just seemed long because of the circumstances. the conversation was monotonous, repetitive. it should have been you. because he'd survived it. you did something to cause it. because he'd been there when it happened. he simply stared out of the window, wishing he could be anywhere but there. somewhere else, where he didn't have to be blamed for something he had no control over. a place where he could relax, a place where he could cry. fireflies danced beyond the window and he pressed a palm against the glass. how wonderful if would be if he could run out into that field, plop himself down on the tall grass, and lie beneath the stars and the moon and the glowing fireflies. if he could only go back to being the child he'd been only a day before, making silly wishes on silly dice, he'd do it in a heartbeat. but there was no going back for him. he couldn't change what had happened and what would now happen because of it. things had ended up this was for a reason. fate. destiny. things seemed bleak now but they would get better. things always got better. because all of the books he'd read said they did. good always triumphs over evil and love always wins out over hate. he made a silent vow to come back to this field so that he could watch the fireflies fly up into the night sky.
|
|
|
Post by GIA ♥ on Nov 23, 2013 12:22:35 GMT -8
03. BLOOD -- 250 WORDS it seemed to go on for hours. the enraged accusations. they wanted him to admit to what they believed had happened. wanted him to say that he'd caused the accident, that he'd tampered with the breaks, that he'd attacked his brother and made him slam into another vehicle. they wanted him to lie, they had always wanted him to lie. only this time they thought he was already lying and wanted him to tell the truth. funny how things suddenly change. he was bleeding. it was pouring from his head and covering his hands, staining his clothes red and making his world appear crimson and hazy. he stumbled his way to the field where he sprawled out in the grass, hidden away from all but the darkened night sky. he closed his eyes, sleep nearly pulling him away. but he couldn't give up. not yet. he cleaned himself up as best he could, wrapping his thin scarf tightly around his head. the blood on his hands had stained his delicate skin. no matter how he tried that night, the crimson stain just would come off. it was a constant reminder of the pain he'd suffered, the home he'd lost. the love he'd craved that he would never have. he felt like his wish could never come true now. as if he didn't deserve it. but he still hoped, still dreamed. because life would get better some day. there was always a happy ending hiding behind the most unlikely of turns.
|
|
|
Post by GIA ♥ on Nov 28, 2013 21:13:44 GMT -8
04. SEA -- 250 WORDS he found himself standing on the beach one afternoon, staring out at the horizon where the sun was sinking into the ocean and casting it's bright hues out across the sky and the surface of the water. the sand shifted beneath his bare feet, the waves lapped at the shore and covered him to his knees in sea spray. it was okay though, he'd rolled up his trousers so that they wouldn't get wet. because he had no home to go back to, nowhere to stay warm or change into dry clothes. these were the only clothes he had and they were torn in places. he wasn't sure yet where he'd sleep tonight, though he'd probably end up back in that field again. for now, though, he wanted to enjoy the beach, the sea. the beautiful colors of the sunset. the warmth he'd always taken for granted as the air around him began to cool. the damp air made him shiver. abel moved away from the water and sat down in the sand, gazing silently at the sea. it seemed to suddenly stop, that sea, but he knew it was a trick. the way the water appeared to collide with the sun and come to an abrupt halt. but the world was round and the oceans only stopped where they met land. like here on this beach in san francisco. it was lonely, growing colder every second. this very beach had once made him happy but tonight, tonight he cried.
|
|
|
Post by GIA ♥ on Nov 28, 2013 22:14:39 GMT -8
05. GLASS -- 250 WORDS the streets on san fransisco could get dangerous. shady guys lurked about in the shadows, fights broke out over silly things. drugs, alcohol, prostitution. none of which he was the least bit interested in. the sound of glass shattering against a brick wall, another against the concrete of the sidewalk, and again on the asphalt of a nearby alley. this wasn't the first time he'd heard those three sounds and it wouldn't be the last. all he could do was try to stay far away from it all. it was easier said than done, of course. often, he'd find himself facing someone who was one of two thing: not friendly at all or a little too friendly. guys wanting to beat him to a pulp for no reason at all. and he'd been propositioned by quite a few people over the last few weeks, both men and women alike; all of which he escaped from in some way or another. abel yelped as a bottle of liquor shattered somewhere against the wall just behind him. a shard dug into his forearm, another in his shoulder. neither was deep but he knew he'd have a rough time removing them and cleaning the wounds. he ran until he could no longer here the drunken shouting of downtown, making his way back to the field. his field. he pulled the shards of glass from his arm and cleaned himself up before falling back in the grass. he was a lover, not a fighter.
|
|
|
Post by GIA ♥ on Nov 28, 2013 22:34:59 GMT -8
06. BOIL -- 250 WORDS how he ended up as an underground doctor was anyone's guess. one day, he was just another guy on the streets. and the next, he was taking care of injuries in order to keep himself fed. he wasn't good enough to charge anything substantial but it was enough to eat off of and that was what mattered the most. and he was getting better, which meant he could eventually charge more. make a living off it. the supplies were stolen but, as much as he hated stealing things, he needed it. it was the only way he could survive in this world and it tore him apart inside. the peroxide bubbled as it disinfected a stab wound. a small fire boiled a pot of water, which was sterilizing a line of fishing string and the needle he'd be using to stitch up the injury. he hated wounds and blood. it would be nice if he never had to see them again but that was a useless wish. things happened. at least he could do something to fix it when it was over. now, if only he was appreciated for it all his wish would have come true. but these people were just customers who didn't really appreciate him at all. they practically forced him into this position to begin with. but it wasn't so bad and it made him a little bit of money. and he needed that. he could actually survive off of it. so he'd continue boiling water.
|
|
|
Post by GIA ♥ on Dec 8, 2013 15:58:59 GMT -8
07. MACHINE -- 250 WORDS everyone treated him like a machine. people would would come to him, day and night, with bloody injuries and broken bones. they'd come in the middle of the night of a simple cut that they could have easily cleaned and dressed on their own. like they thought he didn't need to sleep but could still do a perfect job every time. and he did do his work as perfectly as one could on two or so hours of sleep at a time. he didn't let his tiredness show because that might have been bad for business. he couldn't turn them away because they were the ones who fed him. he could say no when they were bleeding and in pain. so when he was rudely awakened in the dead of night, he simply dragged himself out of bed and did the very best he could manage. no complaints, no glares. just a soft smile as he found out what was wrong and began his work. machines didn't sleep or complain and they did their job with minimum errors. they didn't have the capacity for emotions and feelings or any such nonsense. and he did sometimes feel emotionless. like he didn't matter to anyone and could just be tossed away like garbage. like he was programmed to do the same thing every time someone needed his abilities. he was the medical bot that had no other purpose. sometimes, his eyes were as dead and lifeless as a robots would have been.
|
|
|
Post by GIA ♥ on Dec 8, 2013 19:58:48 GMT -8
08. FANTASY -- 250 WORDS when he managed to get away from the constant noise of downtown, he'd sometimes stare up at the sky and daydream. thinking about how things had been before his brother's death. thinking about that wish he'd made so long ago. thinking about the future and how he'd like it to be. a wish for love, a wish for peace, and wish for somewhere that he truly belonged. abel often found himself lost in those fantasies, wondering if any would ever come his way. and did he even deserve them? he'd never done anything that made him believe so. he was just another ruffian on the streets, a rat who mooched off of whoever he could and stole from those better off than himself. so what if he didn't particularly like what he did? so what if he only did it to survive? it all ended up the same. he wasn't worthy of love. he couldn't create peace. he didn't belong anywhere. but when he slept, he dreamed. when he dreamed, they were comprised of all his fantasies. a circle of friends, gratitude for his services, a place to sleep through the night, warmth and safety. maybe one day he could have some of the things he wanted. one day. when he'd made up for all the terrible things he'd done, all of the rotten people he'd saved, and all of the people he'd taken away from. until then, though, he'd just have to settle for his little world of fantasy.
|
|
|
Post by GIA ♥ on Dec 8, 2013 19:59:23 GMT -8
09. DOG -- 250 WORDS he had always liked dogs, had always kind of wanted one of his own. it wasn't just dogs, of course, he liked pretty much any animal. cats were his favorite of all, but a dog would do. not that he could afford either one. he had no home for a pet, no way to feed it. he could barely feed himself most of the time. sometimes, someone would put out a listing for a dog walker and he would snatch up the opportunity. it didn't always go well, him being the street rat that he was, but every now and then some old lady or overworked gentleman would be kind enough to give him a chance. when they did, he was extra careful to not disappoint them. sometimes they'd ask him to continue, sometimes they wouldn't. there was one older guy, probably in his seventies, that asked him to stick around. and so he did. he walked the dog twice a day, once in the morning and once at night. the dog seemed to like him, he certainly liked playing with the dog. maybe he was a dog himself? a dog looking for a master who would feed him and give him a place to sleep. doing as he's told without a word and living off of other people's scraps. scruffy and rough around the edges, no one bothering to look through that to the sweetness beneath the surface. he was the abused puppy. the one that no one wanted.
|
|
|
Post by GIA ♥ on Dec 24, 2013 16:42:46 GMT -8
10. LUST -- 250 WORDS the need for companionship, the desire to belong. two emotions that meshed into one and formed the most powerful feeling he'd ever felt before. greater than any hunger, stronger than any thirst. it was like he was drowning. he'd die without it. the streets were cold and dark and lonely and he yearned for someone to take all of that away from him. it was a desire beyond any other. nothing at all like the desires those around him suffered; a lust for money or sex or power. none of that could quell his lust, satisfy his heart. sometimes he felt as though he was on fire. or as if a heavy rock were sitting upon his chest and making it hard for him to breathe. sometimes he'd find himself clutching at his chest, curled up in some dark alley and hoping that someone would come and save him. give him a reason to keep on living. he just wanted someone that needed him, that wanted him, that appreciated him. a place he belonged. somewhere to call home and people he could rely on. someone to save him, and someone that he could save in return. it hurt. his heart ached, he couldn't breathe. he had the urge to cry, though he managed to keep the tears at bay. but at night, when he was alone, he'd curl up and let it all out. but the desire wouldn't go away so easily. no. there was no quick fix for him.
|
|
|
Post by GIA ♥ on Dec 24, 2013 16:44:34 GMT -8
11. TITAN -- 250 WORDS as the days passed him by, his reputation grew. word of his abilities, his talents, had spread even past the san francisco borders. his skills were important to the people around him. his ability to mend, to heal, it was an irreplaceable skill. yet, as important as he'd become, no one seemed truly grateful. not the one's who had spread the word about him. the ruffians on the streets praised him, they made him seem like some great and magnificent being. but no matter how many times he helped them, a smile upon his face, he never got any real thanks for his efforts. for someone so reputable, he felt very useless. even a titan, a person of exceptional importance and reputation, still felt useless and small. no one respected him. if he were a true titan, no one would disrespect him like they did. they'd say 'thank you' after he'd helped them. it was probably too much to hope for. just respect. that was all that he wanted. he didn't need his reputation to precede him, didn't need anyone to see him as especially important. a little gratitude would go a long way, would make him feel like he was actually needed. he didn't like being used and then tossed away like yesterday's trash. even the titan who didn't feel like a titan needed some love. when he got a genuine 'thank you' from a blonde on the street, he felt like his face might actually split in two.
|
|