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Team Ky-Nim + Team Kick@$$ Crossover Contest by jennaskook Team Ky-Nim + Team Kick@$$ Crossover Contest :iconjennaskook:jennaskook 6 1
Literature
The House That Built Me
I’m lying down in one of those sunshiny spots. This is the only place and time they start to appear, where the sun manages to peek through the blinds my mom insist on keeping down all the time. The light warms my skin, makes it feel alive, and the prickling feeling that has been gathering on my arms vanishes.
Of course, I know it will appear again soon.
A soft knock on my door. My mom comes in.
“It’s that day again. Time to go.”
This is a routine for us. Each week, we buy chrysanthemums, drive to the cemetery, and set them down on my dad’s grave. My mom will have tears sliding down her face that she would never let me see, and we will both remember. She’ll mumble something that she purposely keeps me from hearing. Then we will take the old chrysanthemums and bury them in our garden. That’s all we have now. A graveyard of wilting flowers to make up for his presence.
Now we’ll go through the motions all over again.
But today, I bre
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Literature
Hope
“Sometimes I can’t write anything but endings,” she says.
I look at her. Bony, deathly pale. Dull eyes of eroded emerald.
“What do you mean?” I ask her.
She digs around in her purse. I know she’s searching for a cigarette. “I mean, when I try to think of a story to write, I can only think of ideas for the ending.”
“Aren’t endings hard, to write, though?”
“Not if you don’t have a beginning to connect it to.” She pulls out a pack, triumphant. Then her smile fades. “I suppose you haven’t got a light?”
“You’ll catch your death from those cigarettes,” I reply.
“Doesn’t matter,” she says with a shrug. “Everyone’s gonna die eventually. What was that saying, again? ‘Nothing is certain except for death and taxes.’”
“I’ll say,” I grumble.
We sit on her maroon sofa. I sit on my side; Alyssa sits on hers. I lean b
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Literature
The Sleeping Giant-Chapter 3 (Nathaniel)
The sea crashed onto the shore and left a swirling, frothy foam in its wake. I sat in that foam now, clothes wet and feet buried in the damp sand. I stood, shivering slightly, as I watched the moon. No stars were shining tonight, but it was tranquil and deserted. This beach is isolated- I am one of only four people who know about this place.
And I am the only one of those four who is still alive.
My mother and father had moved here when they got married. They were quiet, peaceful people- the kind of people whom no one ever seemed to notice. They were the same in so many ways-they spoke softly, and they had always taken the time to notice the little things. Maybe that came from them never being noticed themselves.
They lived long and had good lives, my parents.
But my daughter is a different story.
She was born under a full moon-I remember it so clearly-her wails pierced the silence of the night.
Pins and needles. Her screams were like pins and needles.
But to me and my wife, they were
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Literature
gengar girl (Pokemon Creepypasta)
A lone female Pokémon Trainer lies silently on the side of a road.
It is raining, the cruel wind and ice chills her to the bone, and she is broken.
She takes out a single pokéball and stands up.
And she crushes that pokéball with a stomp of her foot.
--
She never wished that things had turned out the way they did. In fact, just the opposite.
Her mother and friends have forgone consoling her. Even they know that she is too far gone.
What they do not know is that, little by little, her tears will make a river.
But they will learn of that eventually.
More specifically, they will learn of that when that river floods its banks.
--
She imagines its coarse smile. The smile that haunted her, tortured her, paralyzed her, and eventually broke her.
The smile that she has grown to love.
She loves it because the pain reminds her that she is still alive.
--
It rings in her dreams, loud and red. She grows increasingly aware of the waves pummeling her ears.
They reverberate in her
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Literature
A Love of Lying-Chapter 2 (Elliot)
My name is Elliot and I am addicted to lying.
It started out with a slip of the tongue. My mother asked me once if I had finished my homework.
I said "yes".
And it only went downhill from there.
--
My parents were honest, hardworking people. We lived in a small town that was located right in the middle of a country called Nowhere. It doesn't matter what the country was actually called- if I told you, you probably would have said that you had never heard about it before.
Anyhoo, one day on Earth, in a country called Nowhere, in a small town, in an even smaller house, a mother and her son were arguing.
The son had lied to her about not pick pocketing a stranger whom he had seen in the mall, and it just so happened that his mother did not appreciate being lied to.
Needless to say, the son got the belt that night.
I still have the scars. I'd show them to you, but I know that if I did, my mother would start turning over in her grave. See, she never did like bragging either.
--
I guess you'r
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Literature
seven regrets
I open my eyes.
Thick darkness cradles me softly. A look outside my window tells me that the moon has shied away from the night.
Stale air begins to grip my neck and squeeze. I get up, tossing my covers off my body. Moving silently through the house, I open the front door and step outside.
As usual, my neighborhood is illuminated by street lamps. What strikes me, though, is how solid and black the sky is. If not for those lamps, then I would be shrouded in complete darkness.
I sit down on my front steps. Only then do I notice the balloon.
It is deflated and filthy, with its string barely still attached. At closer inspection, I see that there is a small slip of paper poking its head out of it. Looking at it vaguely reminds me of myself, how I emerged from my house to sip the fresh air, similar to how that piece of paper peeped out from its balloon.
I take the paper out of the balloon and read its writing.
"This balloon is from a girl with the weight of the world on her shoulders. Crying
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Literature
A Bundle of Stars
I am dead.
No, not that "Oh no save us it's a ghost" kind of dead.
I'm dead to the world, to my friends, and to myself.
But not to everyone, though.
And the funny thing isI don't really mind. There was nothing left for me in life anyway.
But I often find myself wondering, that if things didn't happen the way they did, maybe everything would have been different. Maybe I could have reached out and brushed my hands against the stars. Maybe I could have still been able to hear the songs and stories of the night sky.
And maybe my spirit would still be alive.
--
"Daddy! Higher!"
"But the swing won't go higher, honey."
"But I want to touch the stars, Daddy."
"Honey, you can use your imagination to do that."
"But I don't want to imagine it. I want it to be real."
"Honey-"
"Please, Daddy. Can't you least try?"
"Alright. Anything for you."
--
We tried. We really did.
But the stars remained out of our grasp, twirling out and into the night.
After each failed attempt, I'd try to cheer he
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Literature
Blind
I remember the velvety red of your voice,
Wrapping around my numb hands
As your touch pervaded orange heat throughout
My eyes yielded calm darkness
As you tried to teach me
That there was something else beyond the emptiness
Your words jolting yellow confusion within my mind
Your hand in mine, you disappeared before I could taste the green wisdom
From your tongue,
Melting smoothly into my blood, your tears
With a hollow blue sorrow only I could taste,
Your warmth lost within the cold grasp of the world
And now your eroded purple footsteps have faded away
Before I could tell you
What colors truly were
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Literature
Spirit Day
you held on
as you and i felt the black oil rise from Their lips, we were
holding hands
smiling
using the smiles we practiced together
painted on
fake
but enough to fool Them
who gush the burnt words from Their mouths
mocking
jeering
us
you wear your crooked one
to salvage your damaged face,
and only with me
do you ever wash it away
and only with you
do my star-lit feelings begin to rise
tasting of honey, but not sweet
and I will hold on
with you, with you
wear a bandage of rope around our bruised necks,
holding hands
smiling
you and i
long hair whipping forth
frigid air freezing our mouths
into expressions
we had not been allowed to show for years
catch me as I fall,
don't let Them take your name
as you
as i
as we
plunge feet-first into blissful ignorance
and hear deafening
silence
silence.
:iconjennaskook:jennaskook
:iconjennaskook:jennaskook 1 2

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the stars will shine tonight

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:iconhugqueen:
HugQueen Featured By Owner Sep 8, 2013   Writer
:rose: Thank you.
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:iconbastiangv:
BastianGV Featured By Owner Jul 4, 2013
Thanks for the favourite. I appreciate it.
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:iconcobrateen:
Cobrateen Featured By Owner Jun 17, 2013  Hobbyist Writer
Thank you for adding my piece to your favorites collection! Normally I would loiter around to check out your gallery or give you a llama, but I've got about a hundred of these to give so … next time, definitely! Thanks again, your appreciation means quite a lot to me!
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:iconreflectionsinwater:
reflectionsinwater Featured By Owner Jun 13, 2013  Hobbyist Writer
Thank you for the fave :)
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:iconejohanne:
ejohanne Featured By Owner Jun 6, 2013  Hobbyist Photographer
Thanks for the fav! :D
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:iconbranislavfabijanic:
BranislavFabijanic Featured By Owner Jun 1, 2013   Photographer
Thank you!
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:iconstarell:
starell Featured By Owner May 23, 2013
Thank you blue dolphins for faving!
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:iconperfling:
Perfling Featured By Owner May 7, 2013  Student General Artist
Thank you for the favorite on "Wild Child!"
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Braxton-T-Rutledge Featured By Owner May 7, 2013
Thank you.
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Feannora Featured By Owner May 7, 2013  Hobbyist General Artist
Thanks for :+fav: :iconstars-plz:
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