Categories > Original > Drama
The wind twisted and bit at his skin, like tiny pellets into the flesh, and he covered his eyes with his hand to see if the desert was almost over, the sand seeming to go on forever and ever. He didn't know if he would ever make it, and the thirst he could feel building in his throat felt like fire.
"Help," he croaked out, putting his hand down and digging his heels in, tried to make it to the oasis that he could make out in his heat induced haze. Possibly, however, it wasn't real, but he never let that thought slip into his mind, already intent on trying to make it, even if it was a mirage. He prayed that it wasn't one, but there was a sliver of doubt in the back of his mind, and he could see it fading away quickly.
"No, no, come back," he murmured, sand making his speech slurred as it continued to press at him, harsh and demanding, crusting at his eyes and making his vision blurred.
"No," he finally managed to say after what seemed to be an eternity, the sand pellets raining down hard on him as he slowly sank down from his last spot, his footholds losing their strength, his hands grasping but never sticking, always sliding through the granules of sand.
lost, forgotten, alone
She swam back up to the surface, the torrents of rain coming down on her already drenched body, like tiny pellets of ice in a place that should have been kind, as it was before. Before, it was fine, the sun shining and the ocean blue, and suddenly, as she began to swim out, the sky began to darken, the clouds covering the sky that had been so friendly before. She didn't know what to make of it, and she tried to wave her arms over her head for help, as her legs dangled below the surface.
"He-" she got out before water ran into her mouth, salty tasting and not at all pleasant. She spat it out, the taste lingering in her mouth afterwards, and she reached blindly for the sky as another wave crashed over her. This wasn't how it was supposed to end, this wasn't how she was supposed to go! Not now, not out at sea like this, with the scent of water around her, in her, the dampness of her clothes pulling her down, down until it was too late to get back up.
"Please-" she said to the sky, asking it to relent in its torrents of its rain, asking it to relent just a little bit, and the sky answered with a resounding "No".
betrayal, hatred, disgust
He ran through the plain, the grass cutting into his thighs, the sky above him a clear blue with not a cloud in sight. Perhaps that was bad though, because as he stood in the lush green plain, he could not see a single person in sight.
"Hello?" he called out, and was momentarily thrown off balance when he heard anyone else respond with a word or two that would make him feel not so much...alone, perhaps. The plan seemed to expand around him, and he clutched his arms to his chest, feeling the bones within his body, feeling his heart pounding in her chest. He couldn't remember ever feeling so frail, so weak, and so alone.
"Anyone out there?" he called out again, and was surprised at how weak his voice came out. Was it really that weak, however, or was it just that the expanse was so big, that it felt like it was almost crushing in on him. When no one answered, he realized just how truly alone he was, and he shuddered, wrapping his arms around his frail body even more and biting his lip.
"Hello?"
loneliness, disappointment, scared
She moaned, low in her throat as the crowd shuffled forward, and she along with it. She couldn't stop this wave from moving, and she knew it, but it still didn't help any that she just wanted to put her feet down and stop, maybe become a tiny pebble in a stream, divert the crowd around her. It wasn't as if this was anything different, it was just a crossing of the street, but it still tugged at her in ways she couldn't explain, and she wanted to just get out, to just get out!
"Hey lady, you're blocking the road!" one man yelled at her, and she groaned, unable to tell him how much she couldn't move forward, how the heat in her stomach was growing throughout her body, tingly down her senses and making it seem as if she was on fire if she took another step. Finally taking another step, she had to muffle the hurt she felt with her arm, biting down into it as she crossed the walk quickly and leaned against the side of the building, panting in exertion that had nothing to do with the walk, but all to do with the walk.
"Stop it, stop it, stop it," she muttered to herself, and people began to veer away from her, afraid of a schizoid on their hands, or something worse. Tears fell like hot rain upon the side of her coat, and she leaned against the scratchy concrete and cried from the pain of it all.
painful, disparaging, disheartening
He lay out on the hotel bed, the cord in one hand, the gun in another. The pills were on the dresser, and the alcohol was on the table by the bedside. One way or another, he was going to die, but by which, he wasn't sure.
"It's like a game of Clue," he muttered, setting the cord down by the alcohol, tears streaming down his face, blurring his vision so that he couldn't see the name on the pills any more.
"The butler, with the knife, in the kitchen," he said ironically as he held the gun near his open mouth.
"Or was it the colonel, with the gun, in the basement?" he said, his last words before he pulled the trigger.
bereavement, loss of self, suicide
She stepped onto the curb dizzily, holding onto the hand of her date.
"I had the best time tonight Harry," she cooed as he paid the waiter their bill at the front desk, and Harry, who was not actually called Harry, smiled at the thought of this drunken woman hanging all over him. She laughed giddily, and then stopped for a moment as the world around her swayed, and she clutched the closet arm, which was that of Harry's, who was actually named Jerome.
"I dun feel good," she slurred, her vision going for a moment hazy as the world swayed like a ship, and her foot slid out from beneath her, and she was caught just in time by the maitre de, which was for all intents and purposes, not there to catch drunken women.
"Thankssssss," she slurred, as they helped her get back into the car, and she grinned like a drunken fool out the window, waving to the people outside the restaurant.
shakiness, out of mind, dizziness
He sighed, the words on the page blurring again as he felt his eyes tear up, from what, he was uncertain. This was the third time already that he felt like this, and he really had no reason to feel this upset, to feel this uncertain about where he was going in life. He was going here, this was the college of his choice, and yet the words for the application kept him stumbling, kept the knot in his throat, in the pit of his stomach, grow bigger and bigger, until he wasn't sure what to do anymore.
"I-" he croaked out, unsure of what he wanted to say, unsure of what he wanted to actually do. So many people, all counting on him, and he was about to let them down, once again, or how his mind told him. He always let them down, and he could feel it, that growing uncertainty of what he was doing was just wrong, wrong, wrong!
uncertainty, let down, despair
This damned jungle; it seemed to get thicker and thicker the further she went into it. Hacking with her machete left and right, she seemed to get further lost in it, her vision getting hazy with the swarms of bugs that surrounded her, left, right, and right in front. She could hear the buzzing of the bugs, and yet couldn't see the gnats that were everywhere, in her mind, outside of her mind, everywhere. Instead, she kept on trekking through the jungle, hoping that maybe there was a way out, maybe there was something to get away from the damned heat, the rain soaked branches that dripped down onto her and her clothes, making them damp. They were already damp, from the sweat and the blood that she had to get to through here, the blood from the many bugs that had attacked her, the dampness from the sweat that showed how much time it had already taken for her to get here.
Here wasn't exactly what she had in mind though. Finally coming to an opening, she pushed her way through, certain that she was at the place she was supposed to be. Only to find that it was wrecked beyond her dreams, beyond her hopes and wildest fantasies.
She cried as she fell to the moist ground, throwing the machete in the air, away from her and the jungle she had just sweated over.
despair, denial, disappointment
He dug at the earth with his bare hands now, pick and axe all forgotten as he scrambled to a breath of fresh air, to a little bit of light perhaps. His nails became chipped and his fingers grew calluses, but still he dug on, trying for that little speck of light that someone had sworn that they had said. That was the whole point of this ordeal, how he became trapped into the tiny little hole, the air slowly leaving him. Soon he would be sucking down gulps of carbon dioxide, and eventually he would die, he knew this.
And yet he kept going on, kept trying to make it to that last bit of spark, that little bit of hope that everyone else had laughed at him about, making him feel inferior, making him feel as if he was an idiot for trying. He was going to do it though, he was going to make it, and he was-
He was cut off in thought, as his fingers suddenly dug into rock, and light began to pour through the tunnel, illuminating the man in all of his dirty glory, his face braking into a slight smile at the way the sun soaked upon his pale, pale face.
hope, forgiveness, enlightenment
"Help," he croaked out, putting his hand down and digging his heels in, tried to make it to the oasis that he could make out in his heat induced haze. Possibly, however, it wasn't real, but he never let that thought slip into his mind, already intent on trying to make it, even if it was a mirage. He prayed that it wasn't one, but there was a sliver of doubt in the back of his mind, and he could see it fading away quickly.
"No, no, come back," he murmured, sand making his speech slurred as it continued to press at him, harsh and demanding, crusting at his eyes and making his vision blurred.
"No," he finally managed to say after what seemed to be an eternity, the sand pellets raining down hard on him as he slowly sank down from his last spot, his footholds losing their strength, his hands grasping but never sticking, always sliding through the granules of sand.
lost, forgotten, alone
She swam back up to the surface, the torrents of rain coming down on her already drenched body, like tiny pellets of ice in a place that should have been kind, as it was before. Before, it was fine, the sun shining and the ocean blue, and suddenly, as she began to swim out, the sky began to darken, the clouds covering the sky that had been so friendly before. She didn't know what to make of it, and she tried to wave her arms over her head for help, as her legs dangled below the surface.
"He-" she got out before water ran into her mouth, salty tasting and not at all pleasant. She spat it out, the taste lingering in her mouth afterwards, and she reached blindly for the sky as another wave crashed over her. This wasn't how it was supposed to end, this wasn't how she was supposed to go! Not now, not out at sea like this, with the scent of water around her, in her, the dampness of her clothes pulling her down, down until it was too late to get back up.
"Please-" she said to the sky, asking it to relent in its torrents of its rain, asking it to relent just a little bit, and the sky answered with a resounding "No".
betrayal, hatred, disgust
He ran through the plain, the grass cutting into his thighs, the sky above him a clear blue with not a cloud in sight. Perhaps that was bad though, because as he stood in the lush green plain, he could not see a single person in sight.
"Hello?" he called out, and was momentarily thrown off balance when he heard anyone else respond with a word or two that would make him feel not so much...alone, perhaps. The plan seemed to expand around him, and he clutched his arms to his chest, feeling the bones within his body, feeling his heart pounding in her chest. He couldn't remember ever feeling so frail, so weak, and so alone.
"Anyone out there?" he called out again, and was surprised at how weak his voice came out. Was it really that weak, however, or was it just that the expanse was so big, that it felt like it was almost crushing in on him. When no one answered, he realized just how truly alone he was, and he shuddered, wrapping his arms around his frail body even more and biting his lip.
"Hello?"
loneliness, disappointment, scared
She moaned, low in her throat as the crowd shuffled forward, and she along with it. She couldn't stop this wave from moving, and she knew it, but it still didn't help any that she just wanted to put her feet down and stop, maybe become a tiny pebble in a stream, divert the crowd around her. It wasn't as if this was anything different, it was just a crossing of the street, but it still tugged at her in ways she couldn't explain, and she wanted to just get out, to just get out!
"Hey lady, you're blocking the road!" one man yelled at her, and she groaned, unable to tell him how much she couldn't move forward, how the heat in her stomach was growing throughout her body, tingly down her senses and making it seem as if she was on fire if she took another step. Finally taking another step, she had to muffle the hurt she felt with her arm, biting down into it as she crossed the walk quickly and leaned against the side of the building, panting in exertion that had nothing to do with the walk, but all to do with the walk.
"Stop it, stop it, stop it," she muttered to herself, and people began to veer away from her, afraid of a schizoid on their hands, or something worse. Tears fell like hot rain upon the side of her coat, and she leaned against the scratchy concrete and cried from the pain of it all.
painful, disparaging, disheartening
He lay out on the hotel bed, the cord in one hand, the gun in another. The pills were on the dresser, and the alcohol was on the table by the bedside. One way or another, he was going to die, but by which, he wasn't sure.
"It's like a game of Clue," he muttered, setting the cord down by the alcohol, tears streaming down his face, blurring his vision so that he couldn't see the name on the pills any more.
"The butler, with the knife, in the kitchen," he said ironically as he held the gun near his open mouth.
"Or was it the colonel, with the gun, in the basement?" he said, his last words before he pulled the trigger.
bereavement, loss of self, suicide
She stepped onto the curb dizzily, holding onto the hand of her date.
"I had the best time tonight Harry," she cooed as he paid the waiter their bill at the front desk, and Harry, who was not actually called Harry, smiled at the thought of this drunken woman hanging all over him. She laughed giddily, and then stopped for a moment as the world around her swayed, and she clutched the closet arm, which was that of Harry's, who was actually named Jerome.
"I dun feel good," she slurred, her vision going for a moment hazy as the world swayed like a ship, and her foot slid out from beneath her, and she was caught just in time by the maitre de, which was for all intents and purposes, not there to catch drunken women.
"Thankssssss," she slurred, as they helped her get back into the car, and she grinned like a drunken fool out the window, waving to the people outside the restaurant.
shakiness, out of mind, dizziness
He sighed, the words on the page blurring again as he felt his eyes tear up, from what, he was uncertain. This was the third time already that he felt like this, and he really had no reason to feel this upset, to feel this uncertain about where he was going in life. He was going here, this was the college of his choice, and yet the words for the application kept him stumbling, kept the knot in his throat, in the pit of his stomach, grow bigger and bigger, until he wasn't sure what to do anymore.
"I-" he croaked out, unsure of what he wanted to say, unsure of what he wanted to actually do. So many people, all counting on him, and he was about to let them down, once again, or how his mind told him. He always let them down, and he could feel it, that growing uncertainty of what he was doing was just wrong, wrong, wrong!
uncertainty, let down, despair
This damned jungle; it seemed to get thicker and thicker the further she went into it. Hacking with her machete left and right, she seemed to get further lost in it, her vision getting hazy with the swarms of bugs that surrounded her, left, right, and right in front. She could hear the buzzing of the bugs, and yet couldn't see the gnats that were everywhere, in her mind, outside of her mind, everywhere. Instead, she kept on trekking through the jungle, hoping that maybe there was a way out, maybe there was something to get away from the damned heat, the rain soaked branches that dripped down onto her and her clothes, making them damp. They were already damp, from the sweat and the blood that she had to get to through here, the blood from the many bugs that had attacked her, the dampness from the sweat that showed how much time it had already taken for her to get here.
Here wasn't exactly what she had in mind though. Finally coming to an opening, she pushed her way through, certain that she was at the place she was supposed to be. Only to find that it was wrecked beyond her dreams, beyond her hopes and wildest fantasies.
She cried as she fell to the moist ground, throwing the machete in the air, away from her and the jungle she had just sweated over.
despair, denial, disappointment
He dug at the earth with his bare hands now, pick and axe all forgotten as he scrambled to a breath of fresh air, to a little bit of light perhaps. His nails became chipped and his fingers grew calluses, but still he dug on, trying for that little speck of light that someone had sworn that they had said. That was the whole point of this ordeal, how he became trapped into the tiny little hole, the air slowly leaving him. Soon he would be sucking down gulps of carbon dioxide, and eventually he would die, he knew this.
And yet he kept going on, kept trying to make it to that last bit of spark, that little bit of hope that everyone else had laughed at him about, making him feel inferior, making him feel as if he was an idiot for trying. He was going to do it though, he was going to make it, and he was-
He was cut off in thought, as his fingers suddenly dug into rock, and light began to pour through the tunnel, illuminating the man in all of his dirty glory, his face braking into a slight smile at the way the sun soaked upon his pale, pale face.
hope, forgiveness, enlightenment
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