Comments Posted By SentientExistence

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They tell him it’s traditional. You take a wife and you marry her and you have children. He says to hell with tradition, he’s got a car that he bought from the money at the mechanic’s place, he’s got cash for gas and food and a bundle of his clothing on the backseat. They tell him it’s his obligation, it’s tradition. He drives off to the city and never once looks back.

» Posted By SentientExistence On 08.12.2017 @ 10:03 pm


She’s gorgeous. His head snaps around as soon as she walks into his Geometry class, and all he knows is that he wants her hand in his and her lips on his and well-
He stares. Can’t help it. Every day. His friends tease him about it, but he doesn’t mind. He’ll show them one day, when he shows up with her on his arm. So he asks her out to prom, with a dozen roses and his heart on his face clear as day and on bended knee, and she laughs, kicks the flowers out of his hand, turns and kisses the star basketball player and something breaks inside.

» Posted By SentientExistence On 02.26.2017 @ 7:12 pm


His hand on mine. The streamers and decorations that turn a high school gym into a winter wonderland. The warmth of his skin, the smile playing around his lips. My date guides me through the mess of people, through the beaded dresses and crisp tuxes with creases you can still see. It’s a whirlwind of a night, it’s just a high school dance and it’s a HIGH SCHOOL DANCE and by the time I’m done I wouldn’t have traded it for the world.

» Posted By SentientExistence On 02.10.2017 @ 1:44 am


He’s caged, he’s got nowhere to run and in front of him is the Devil. His father smiles down at him and for a second the boy spits. The wad of saliva and phlegm lands on his father’s shoe. The man doesn’t even flinch.
“Worthless,” he hisses, the sharp smell of alcohol on his breath. “Waste of money. Shoulda killed ya when you came out.” Nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide. “Maybe I’ll make good on that promise tonight.”

» Posted By SentientExistence On 02.05.2017 @ 9:55 pm


She wants him, she longs for him. Her baby, her son- the world was so cruel to take him, so so cold, where is he now? Buried under the hard ground, with snow on top and flower seeds that won’t bloom ’till summer, how she weeps for her baby boy. She needs to bring him back. She needs to bring him back to her, she sets out under cover of darkness and returns, she bundles his bones up with her scarf and sings a lullaby and prays to the Devil.

» Posted By SentientExistence On 02.03.2017 @ 4:02 pm


Her outfit is always perfect. Sleek and impeccable, mixing and matching prints to highlight her strong shoulders, to lengthen her short legs. Kaitlin can feel like a model even when she struts down the hallways of her underfunded and crowded school, low heels tip-tapping on the tile floors and ponytail swinging just so. She has the perfect look for every occasion, and she revels in it.

» Posted By SentientExistence On 01.26.2017 @ 7:56 pm


That silly thief. Amilee smiles. She won’t get far. Her fist is pulled back, tight and coiled like a spring. Ready to punch, only she isn’t going to. A thief, stealing her man. She’ll show her what stealing really is, she’ll take back what was hers all along. With a smile and nary a thought, Amilee lets two small while capsules fall into the open bottle of drinking water on the desk.

» Posted By SentientExistence On 01.22.2017 @ 7:32 pm


His smile is gorgeous. I want to take that smile and have him put it against my cheek, my throat, my jaw. His hands dance on my bruises like a spider, his nails dig in hard and don’t let go.

His smile is gorgeous but his hands and eyes are cold, so cold. The bruises on my thighs and face tell me I’m in love with a madman.

» Posted By SentientExistence On 01.21.2017 @ 9:58 pm


The ramp is huge. Insurmountable. There’s no way his arms can get him up that, no way she can make it inside. She has to.
“It’s alright. You can do it.” She says to herself. She moves forward, strains herself. And then, with a final bump, she’s there, and looking into the faces of her classmates for the first time since the accident.

» Posted By SentientExistence On 01.17.2017 @ 8:45 pm


The champagne was fizzy and burned the back of her throat. That’s what she remembers from that night, that the lights were dim and the sky was dark and the champagne tasted like a million bucks.

Not that he held her down while she pleaded and screamed, not that he covered her mouth with a sweaty hand, not that he left her crying and violated with mascara stained on her cheeks.

» Posted By SentientExistence On 01.15.2017 @ 8:26 pm


The old man was like a fortress. Icy cold, impenetrable. Nothing went out, nothing came in. Not his thoughts, not his words- he kept it inside of him, safe, where no one could peek in. His face was cragged stone, his hands were the drawbridge- strong and lined with the scars of a thousand failed invasions, testimony to their failure.

But every fortress has a back entrance. And this old man had a dog.

» Posted By SentientExistence On 01.14.2017 @ 9:40 pm


It’s beautiful; arcing through the sky like a river of fire and trailing banners of flame behind it. What’s more beautiful is the girl next to him; and how her hair sways in the sultry night breeze. He can forget, up here on Rook’s Hill; forget that he lost his leg and his brother in the crash. Pretend he’s just another teenage guy stargazing with his girlfriend.
But then the comet disappears, and she hops up with starlight reflected in her eyes, and he’s left on the ground scrambling for a foot that isn’t there.

» Posted By SentientExistence On 01.10.2017 @ 7:34 pm


She takes her first step onto the boat. The wood beneath her feet sways like it is made itself of ocean; and then she looks down and has to squeeze her eyes shut to remind herself she isn’t going to drown.
One last look at her homeland; fierce wind stinging her cheeks and bitter cold kissing her lips; and then it’s off to the Americas; to a new land; maybe someplace better.

» Posted By SentientExistence On 01.09.2017 @ 8:03 pm


It was beautiful. The knife’s blade glinted and caught the light, and Rena smiled at the sight of her reflection in the steel, polished until her own face seemed to shine. Or maybe that was her excitement. The quartz in the handle was smooth and cool to the touch, and she remembered a time long ago, without knives and with pretty things. With a shake of her head, Rena tossed the thought away. “I’ll take it.” she told the shopkeeper.

» Posted By SentientExistence On 01.08.2017 @ 1:26 pm


Breakout act, she was everybody’s darling, she smiled at the cameras and swished her skirt just so and it was all over the newspapers by tomorrow morning. Break out. She had to break out, she felt so trapped inside her own skin, and her smiles never reached her eyes. They found her in bed with an empty bottle of sleeping pills and her mouth in a twisted grin.

» Posted By SentientExistence On 01.06.2017 @ 6:08 pm


The water is sweet and cool and it slides down his throat like music came out of it; a thousand and one years ago. But this is not music; he is in a desert, the water is lukewarm and grainy and it scrapes his throat raw-

Desert. He is in a desert. There is no water. His lips are beaded with not moisture but sand. The boy drops his handful of rough sand and forces himself to stand up, sucking in a dry sob and lips bleeding from the effort.

» Posted By SentientExistence On 01.04.2017 @ 10:41 pm


Tradition. It was tradition, and yet he felt sick to his stomach at the thought of what would happen in the next hour.

It wasn’t her fault. His bride was beautiful, and alluring, but he just didn’t love her. She was perfect, the perfect bride, and yet, he couldn’t muster up the same enthusiasm as his relatives felt.

He let her lead him to the bed, let her kiss him as she slid her hands up his shirt, and he closed his eyes.

» Posted By SentientExistence On 01.02.2017 @ 8:11 pm


Resolve. Resolve means fixed, resolved means okay, resolved means that something is done and over with and you don’t have to worry about it any more.

Or another way of looking at it. Resolve means strength, it’s fire, burning deep in your gut and pushing you to carry on even if nothing is working out. Resolve is the grit in your teeth and the glare in your eyes and the refusal in your heart to be beaten.

» Posted By SentientExistence On 01.01.2017 @ 11:58 pm

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