• A. Rose commented on the post, disfigured 4 years, 9 months ago

    I stare at the mirror, but the woman who looks at me is not who I am. This woman is badly burned all over her face. Her nose, her once perfectly curved lips, and her normally bright eyes were no longer shaped how they used to be. Why me? I asked myself, as I pulled my hood over my face and sighed.

  • A. Rose commented on the post, decadence 4 years, 10 months ago

    I couldn’t help but drift off a little bit as I felt the comforting, foamy bubbles cling to my skin. The warmth of the water was divine, and I sipped my wine slowly, savoring the rich flavor. I sighed to myself, feeling slightly guilty for the indulgence, but deep inside, I was finally happy. I deserved this.

  • A. Rose commented on the post, sultry 4 years, 10 months ago

    I gasped, trying to breathe in the thick, sultry air, as my old, torn up Converse pounded the ground. I hoped I wasn’t too late. Maybe he would still be waiting? As I approached the corner, I suddenly got a sense of fear. What if he had left? Got bored and went home? I closed my eyes as I approached the corner, afraid of what would happen when I…[Read more]

  • A. Rose commented on the post, educated 4 years, 10 months ago

    I sit at my tattered desk in the corner, straining my eyes to see the board. I don’t understand why we don’t get nice, clean desks and new, shiny books like the other kids. I sigh to myself, trying to write my name with a dull pencil, but the tip barely makes any marks, so I have to trace over it a few times. The Elizabeth Eckford at the top of…[Read more]

  • A. Rose commented on the post, educated 4 years, 10 months ago

    I sit at my tattered desk in the back corner, straining my eyes to see the front of the classroom. It’s not fair that all the other kids get nice, clean desks, and new, shiny books. I sigh to myself, trying to write my notes with a disappointingly dull pencil, wondering if it’s all worth it, just to be educated.

  • A. Rose commented on the post, casting 5 years, 11 months ago

    “Dad dad dad dad dad dad dad dad da-”
    “What, honey?”
    My dad was the most patient person I ever met. I swear every time I saw my bobber move, I thought it was a fish, and I’d just about wet my pants getting his attention, and every time, he would slowly say, “what honey?” and I’d tell him I had caught one. So we’d reel in the line, to find that…[Read more]

  • A. Rose commented on the post, burrow 5 years, 12 months ago

    Deeper, deeper. I buried my head into my pillows. Why couldn’t I just stay there forever? Away from pain, away from everything. Like a worm, doing nothing but hiding in the dirt, insignificant, but safe. No one needed my presence, my input, my trust, my friendship. My head sank further, the Downy-scented fabric soaking up my salty tears, and…[Read more]

  • A. Rose commented on the post, creature 6 years ago

    Grotesque. Horrifying. No words could describe the… the thing looming over my head. It had terrifying arms, or tentacles, or whatever they were, and teeth as long as my thumb. It’s eyes were red and piercing, as it stared me down like a food critique inspecting it’s meal. I was shaking so hard I felt like my bones were going to shake right out…[Read more]

  • A. Rose commented on the post, branch 6 years ago

    Wind in my face, blowing through my hair, my fingers, everywhere. Slowly rocking my feet back and forth to get higher and higher, my old tire swing was my childhood. The sturdy rope hanging on a branch fifty feet off the ground, it was as close as I would ever get to flying.

  • A. Rose commented on the post, trench 6 years ago

    “Duck! Hurry!” I heard someone scream. I looked around, confused, and saw men everywhere jumping into trenches that they built around the battlefield. Before I could even move towards one, I saw a blinding light, and a cloud of smoke and dust swallow the grass beneath it, getting closer and closer to my panicked body. I started running. I knew I…[Read more]

  • A. Rose commented on the post, punished 6 years ago

    I knew I would regret this, running away. My master always told me that if I had any sense, I’d stay with him, but i didn’t listen. I ain’t gonna listen to him, if he’s gonna whip me when ever I misstep. I hate my punishment, but I hate my master even more. Why couldn’t I have been born freed?

  • A. Rose commented on the post, vines 6 years ago

    I remember the vast vineyard, and sighed to myself. That place was my childhood. I remember running along side the vines of purple grapes, and I smile. Memories are all I had left of that place.