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You run because you want to. I run because I need to. You snigger when I cry. All I want to do is die. You said you loved me once upon a time.
Have you ever been in one of those situations where things could have easily gone differently. You know, those times when looking back on it you were really lucky to survive.
"Zay. No!" I screech. Zay doesn't react. What's wrong with him. "Zay!" The man holding my stick glares at me, then slaps me. Ow. What was that for.
Rogan let out a scream of agony at the arrow was driven into the back of his shoulder. He stumbled into a tree, listening to the hunter laugh in victory.
Yes, I get depressed sometimes. My parents are divorced. But life is not a tragedy, and I'm not in remorse.
Tabitha Green, walked. Never looked back,. Never once cried,. Never spoke of this until. The day she died,. Tabitha Green, lied. Lied to her mum,. Lied to her dad,. Lied to her kids,.
~the story I submitted~ Ruth Forrest. I was running, I couldn't stop. He was after me, they were after me. If I stopped, even for a split second, they'd catch me.
Gone for months, lost in darkness, no way out in sight, shadows reach out, escalating the fright. Why would mother abandon us, throw us to the wind, were we a burden of unforgivable sin.
Viridi woke up with a start. Cold sweat mixing with tears. flashes came back to her, images of thirty odd men bursting from the trees around her house. Flash, flash, flash.
For a 500 word competition for Chris Evans :) I was running, I couldn't stop. He was after me, they were after me. If I stopped, even for a split second, they'd catch me.
Life is hard If its gotta be this way then fuck it lets go The bitches , money , and drugs is all I know This Is life The life of a D-Boy is all I ever understood I ask God to forgive me He...
I am Amy Voilet. When I was little I was abused, this is my story. I have light red hair and medium body-build. I was thirteen when the abuse had started. My mother had died in her sleep.
We are the strong. We are the proud. We are the broken. Who got up when we fell. Our stories are written in dust. Built from broken trails. The frail hands who raise their arms. Despite all the chaos.
I opened my eyes, staring at blackness, somewhat lethargic from the sleeping pills. "Rey. Reylene?" A familiar voice whispered. "Quinton. Are you here?" I called, digging my fingers into my mattress.
He can hear your loud breathing, So calm it down and sigh, Maybe if we're lucky he will Only pass us bye. Don't shift, don't move or make a sound, He'll hear it, don't you know.
Untitled_Audio_Log_001 Is this thing on. *tap-tap* Ah, yeah, there we go. This is Elizabeth McGlashan reporting at 0812 hours on May 21st, 2017. Location... Somewhere.
I don't know if I should go on with Gemini. I'm getting bored with it, and a new story is forming in my head. Maybe you guys could make up the ending and post it. This might be the last chapter.
My hair blows wildly in the wind. The bright red curls forming an uncontrollable crows nest on my head. My backpack rattles and rumbles as I sprint through the forest. I've been running for an hour.
*Well it's time to start the show Lost my mind and lost my soul* Last night's memory haunts me still The want, the won't, the wait, the will An alley place so dark and deep Holds the secret I will...
I'm getting good at living With crushed and broken limbs, Paper cuts on fingertips, Split and bleeding lips.
We were all alone, Rebecca and I, do I ever hate my stepsister. But at the moment she's all I have...
He drew a deep breath as a soft wind brushed against his stubble infested chin. A smile worked its way across his slightly aged face, yet he had nothing to smile about.
(Prologue) A young man and woman were racing through the dark midnight forest.
You might think that the children were dead, but luckily they had only been knocked out by incoming people.