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Twinkle, Twinkle, Little StarIt's the end of my shift on watch and time for me to go wake the next person on shift. My feet feel like chunks of lead as I drag myself down the ladder from the attic. My eyes droop closed. And my jaw nearly pops out of place as the yawns become bigger and longer. I stumble into the bedroom where my brothers are slumbering and slink over to the eldest of the Sanchez children. I bite back a smile. When he sleeps he doesn't look like a man, he looks like a man-child. His limbs are sprawled out in every direction. His mouth is slightly ajar, making him snore. And the slight sliver of saliva runs down his cheek.

"Skylar," I murmur, s

BreatheGreat, everyone in the house hates me.

I can't say I blame them. What I did was harsh, even by my standards.

But… he knows I didn't earnestly mean anything that came out of my big mouth, doesn't he? He has to know. In the heat of the moment, I honestly felt like I meant it, but I really didn't. I swear. I know I can be overdramatic and insufferable at times, but this morning was overly emotional as it was, but then he came in and pushed me over the edge just by being himself. Sorry if he just so happened to walk through the door at the wrong time. It's not my fault.

At the same time though, it is.

"Who's in the bathroom?!"

I reek,

Cookies and CreamAs soon as we set foot within the boundary of the flea market, I walk off to the nearest booth with the mechanical part we need. At one place, there's just a box of them, so I begin digging through them, inspecting the quality of each part then tossing the useless stuff on the ground beside the box. When the owner of the junk looks over at me, he grumbles something about picking up the mess when I'm done.

At least five minutes later, I throw all of it back into the bin having not found what I'm looking for. I wipe my hands on my pants, stand up and find I've been followed.

"What do you want?" I spit icily.

"You of course," he replies.

I r

White NightsMy blue-haired friend and I are strolling through the dark forest like we have so many times in the past two months. By now, we're usually flying off someplace, but since someone couldn't get my broom again, that's not happening. Okay, he explained that one of his maids caught him trying to leave with two brooms, so he had to leave mine behind. So I'm not mad. I just love flying. I use to be terrified, but I love the feeling of the wind in my face. Plus, I love beating him whenever we race. I suppose now is the perfect time to take another risk. We have nothing better to do.

I clasp my hands in my lap. "Hey, Zane. Did you have something in m

Prison Break"Where the Hell could he be?" I growl under my breath. "This place isn't as big as the other facilities. It shouldn't be taking us this damn long to find him."

I reach the corner and press myself against the wall. I peek around with my weapon close, prepared to shoot in case someone is down the next hallway, but the coast is clear. I swiftly round the corner, trying to act natural, fidgeting in my newly acquired prison guard uniform; pulling the too large pants up, messing with the collar of the shirt that is doesn't fit, and stamping my foot to keep on the shoes that'll probably come off if I'm not careful. It was the only uniform in that c

Creepy-CrawliesI throw myself atop the shabby piece of furniture and close my eyes. There's a soft sound in the dark room. It reminds me of leaves scraping the pavement. Maybe some of them are even hitting the wall. Why there are leaves inside and how they're being blown around, I haven't the slightest clue. I'm too determined to fall asleep to let that idea pester me. I concentrate on my breathing.

But then a sound other than the brushing starts up. I can't quite place it though. I feel like I've heard it before, a long time ago, but I can't remember what it is. It's not much louder than the brushing, just a bit rougher. What is it? What is it? What could

Some Assistance"Ex-excuse me."

This must be trickery. His voice. It sounds like... like it doesn't belong to a wizard. He must be using magic to change it, to mislead me. Well, I'm not falling for it.

They take another step. "He-hello there. Do- do you speak English?" they ask slowly in their faux voice.

I know I'm not the bravest person, but really? Can anyone keep a straight face when your intelligence is being insulted? Can I speak English? What other language would I speak? And even if I did speak something else, how would being slow and loud help me understand? Dear lord. Wizards. I tilt my head back to glare at them, but my expression changes to su

Follow the Arrow"Once upon a time-"

"Is this going to be one of those stories again?" complains Lillah.

I sigh. "Can I please tell the story in peace tonight?"

She folds her arms. "Well, fine then."

"Thank you." I pause and take a deep breath, trying to concentrate. "Once upon a time, the world use to be ruled by humans. Ordinary, weak-"

"Hey, I'm a human!" interjects my sister. Well, adoptive sister.

"I know, Lovella. But I'm trying to set the mood of the story."

"Well, you don't have to be that convincing."

"Yes, I do." I rub my temples with my index finger and thumb. "That's the whole point of telling a good story."

"Ugh, fine. Continue." And sh

Snap DecisionsZane grabs me by my shoulders. "You go with Rona to free the others," he instructs. "Save your friends, your parents, my family, just everyone. Then lead them out to safety. I'll go look for Sydelle."

I nod obediently. "Alright. And as soon as we're done and everyone's safe, we come find you, right? We can help."

He frowns and begins leading Rona and I toward the closest door. "I'd... prefer you didn't. You should get out of here. As fast as possible."

"But-" Zane gives us a good-natured shove. I stomp my foot. "Blue!"

"Orchid, go! Hurry! You must get yourselves out of here."

I turn around, folding my arms. "No." He tries pushing us agai

Love TriangleHe's perfect. What's not to love?
He's so moronic. What does she see in him?
I need her.

I wonder if he notices me.
I hate the way he looks at her.
What can she do for me today?

Does he feel the same way?
Can't she see he doesn't reciprocate her feelings?
How does she not see I don't feel the same way?

I hope he does.
Is she under some spell or something? Really?
I've got her wrapped around my finger.

I think I'll go looking for him.
Maybe I should tell her.
I wonder where she's off to today.

Will he be happy to see me?
Will she want to listen?
Will she be able to do it all?... For me, she will.

There he is. Looking as amazi

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Might Not Make It Home"Wouldn't miss it for the world, Hasi," Uncle Schröder chuckles.

I cringe, "Please don't call me that anymore. I'm fifteen for Goodness sake!" It's such an old nickname, from when I was younger. But he never lets me live it down. It means little hare. He only smirks and ruffles my hair.

That's a mistake.

Sara steps forward and snaps, "Hey! Hey! I spent an hour trying to make it look respectable! You have no idea how much water it took to smooth down that damn cowlick, and now you've gone and stuck it up again!" And just to make her angrier, he does it again, so she stomps into the other room.

Her family and I all follow after her, bu

Beautiful World"Mommy! Mommy! Looky at what I painted! Come on! Look, look, look! Please Mommy! It is so pretty! It's as pretty as yours, right Mommy?!"

I finish the detailing on my painting for a moment and lower the wooden palette in my hand. I smile satisfied with my handiwork and turn to Ollie. He's jumping up and down, his messy black hair bouncing on top of his little head, his amber eyes bright with excitement, his little hands covered in green and blue paint balled into fists, and his shirt even messier than mine.

Ollie points to the canvas again standing on the little easel perfect for his height, waving his hands in the air. On his canvas are ha

Not In My Favor"Olevia Planar!"

My hand goes to my throat and my heart stops. Did I just hear them correctly? Please let me be hearing things. That strange lady on stage did not just pull my name from the giant fish bowls. My name did not get called out. I was not reaped. No. I'm just going crazy. I'm eighteen for crying out loud! My last year! All I needed was this one more year and I was home free!

"Olevia Planar?!"

There are hisses and sympathetic looks from all around me, aimed at me. I'm not going crazy. I didn't hear wrong. My name was drawn from the giant fish bowl. My name was called out into the microphone. People start shoving me toward the sta

Collide"Hey, Charlie! Wait up! I need to talk to you!" Charlie pretends she didn't see him and turns back around. There's no need to talk. He lost his chance at the beginning of the summer. And there's nothing to talk about. Not anymore. He should've tried talking to her long before. The break up was over something very simple. He wanted to take their relationship to the next level. He kept hinting at it, saying dancers are really flexible and know a lot of moves. When Charlie resisted, he complained and whined, which was oh so attractive, of course. Somehow, she managed to break up with him. The next day he kept calling, she ignored him, he left me

HollowI walk into my bedroom to place my wares atop my bed, but am startled to see an unexpected guest. There's a face I never thought I'd see again. He's just sitting, on the edge of my bed, with that charming smile of his, like he belongs on the edge of my bed. I drop my things and gasp.

"Wh—what are you doing here?"

He gestures to me. "I'm here to visit you, of course." I give him a perplexed look, and he shrugs. "I … just decided to come." As I continue to gawk, he pats the bed on the spot next to him. He rolls his eyes at my hesitation. "I'm not going to bite, you know. Promise," he adds, holding up his right hand. I hesitate ag

Hazy... Again...I don't care that we've been fighting this entire past week. I don't care that she's probably even angrier with me after following her. But I really can't allow her to sleep alone after what she said. I'd have to be heartless to not feel anything after that. Annabelle's terrified. She's terrified to sleep inside because every little noise makes her jump. She thinks the mobsters are coming back for her. What happened that day runs through my mind. Walking in the front door to see the mess. Hearing Roxy bark and thinking something had happened to her. Relief when I found her in the closet. Then her clinging to me, crying her eyes out.

And of c

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What Is Love?

by ~v-gal015, Jul 10, 2012, 8:13:05 AM
Literature / Poetry / General Poetry / Concrete Poetry

Is love just one look and you instantly know they're the one?
You falling for someone at first sight?
You're completely captivated by their beauty and presence?
You feel this infatuation you can't deny with all your might?

Is love always needing to be by their side?
Because any moment without them isn't worth living?
Because it pains you to see them go?
Because you don't feel whole when you're not touching?

Is love wanting to kiss them every moment,
Of every minute, of every hour, of every day for the rest of eternity?
Is love yearning to hold them close to you,
For what feels like infinity?

Is love certainty?
Or is it immediate?
Or unshakable?
Or passionate?

Is love knowing you want to spend the rest of your life with them?

Well, maybe it is. But here's my theory:

Love is getting to know someone over time.
You look at them and you have no idea what lies ahead.
You're still willing to take that leap of faith for them.
You might end up denying it at some point, but eventually, it needs to be said.

Love is knowing when they need space.
Because you should cherish the moments you spend together.
Because, really, you can't always be by their side. Really.
Because while you might hate being apart, it makes reunions so much better.

Love is always wanting to scream and pull you hair out,
For not only your mistakes, but theirs.
Love is also turning around with an easy smile
And running a hand through their hair.

Love is absolute uncertainty.
And it's gradual.
And intimidating.
And fragile.

Love is not caring if you have a lifetime with them as long as you have them right now.

At least for me it is.

What Is Love?by ~v-gal015

Literature / Poetry / General Poetry / Concrete Poetry

Crappy poem is crappy.

But, hey, it rhymes!

Honestly though, I don't know if I should get cool points for that, or if they should be taken away.

This was sort of a spur of the moment thing that kinda goes along with another story I'm working on. I would post some of that, but it was one of the works of mine that got lost when my jump drive broke. It wasn't a lot. Just one random chapter and a few excerpts, but I've felt no motivation to redo it.

I know it's a mess. Don't judge me.

I don't know what else to put in this description, so I'm just going to stop talking now...