Comments Posted By elinmacrae
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It pained me to see him like that. The way he sort of just floated around the house and slept in until late in the afternoon. The way he became a zombie and couldn’t find a tiny ray of sunshine on the clearest day.
And to know that I couldn’t do anything, not really, to help was even worse. We’d talk through it and he’d seem inspired, but then he’d revert back to his old self and things became hopeless once more.
» Posted By elinmacrae On 03.19.2013 @ 3:17 pm
I choose, now, to only do what makes me happy. Throughout my years, all I ever did was to make my father or mother or siblings or friends happy. And I tried so hard to fit in that I drove myself insane with the person I became.
So this year, I choose to be myself in ways I never thought possible. Backpacking through Australia, going to school for writing, get my nose pierced! Anything and everything. I’m doing it. And I won’t let anyone stop me.
» Posted By elinmacrae On 01.18.2013 @ 8:25 am
It shows when you’re happy. They don’t see it. But I do. It’s the small crinkle at the side of your eyes. It’s the gleam that shines a little bit brighter. It’s the way you wrinkle your nose when you laugh. It’s the way you sit up a little bit straighter.
She may not see it. She may not even bring out your happiness. But I do.
» Posted By elinmacrae On 12.27.2012 @ 9:34 pm
A fresh new start. That’s what this year was supposed to be about. Not about making money, about finding a boyfriend. It was about starting afresh and getting better. So when you asked me “isn’t the whole point of you taking a year off supposed to be for money?” I had to instantly correct you and say, no; it’s to get better. And your response? “Well, isn’t making money apart of that?”
And it pains me to know that corruption has reached your brain and altered what really is important.
» Posted By elinmacrae On 10.10.2012 @ 7:38 pm
I needed help. That much was obvious as the tears slid their way down my cheeks, almost steaming in the frigid air. My body shook with sobs I refused to set free, but my traitorous eyes still released tears. Frustrated, I curled my fingers into fists and pounded the nearest thing to me; what possibly was my help.
» Posted By elinmacrae On 09.26.2012 @ 3:26 pm
He covered my mouth with his hand as a yelp escaped me. We were pressed against the wall, firmly, his body pushing against mine.
“Don’t. Move.” He whispered. I struggled against him and he tightened his hold. I heard a wail and stiffened from fear. His gaze shifted from me to whatever it was behind us. His eyes widened and I closed mine in dread.
» Posted By elinmacrae On 09.02.2012 @ 12:47 pm
Everything hurts. Everywhere, from everyone. The simplest of stares has me feeling like they’re judging and laughing. I feel like I’m balancing on a thin foundation of mistrust and deceit. They’ve set up some stereotype for me; some guidelines that I sort of follow by simply by being me. It’s like framework for some pathetic teenager who can’t even get through watching Harry Potter without crying.
» Posted By elinmacrae On 06.17.2012 @ 9:00 pm
You jelly? A phrase that is completely and utterly ridiculous but has matriculated into the vocabulary of everyday for teenagers.
“Oh look! I got a 90 on the test. You jelly?”
“Oh hey, I’m dating that really cute guy over there. You jelly?”
No, friend, I am not jelly. I am not a gelatinous treat made for children. I may be jealous. But not jelly.
» Posted By elinmacrae On 06.06.2012 @ 2:34 pm
He was supposed to be emptying the chamber pot by now. But he was distracted by a little scene that was going on in the town. So he sort of… forgot.
His name was called really loudly, almost stern and reprimanding. And he jumped, so, of course… it spilled everywhere. And to say he was going to the stocks was an understatement.
» Posted By elinmacrae On 06.04.2012 @ 8:33 pm
It was a long day. A very long day. And it was hard. So, so hard.
What he was doing? It was a necessity. Like the air he breathed, the tears that shed… an inevitability. It was going to happen sooner or later and right now he needed this more than ever.
The pain blossomed across his forearm and he breathed deeply
» Posted By elinmacrae On 06.02.2012 @ 10:25 pm
She didn’t know exactly where he was leading her. But nothing was stopping her. It was unnerving; she barely knew him. Yet his hand remained firm and soft around hers.
She trusted him in a bit of an egregious way. She’d heard the rumours, the warnings… but frankly, she didn’t care.
» Posted By elinmacrae On 05.25.2012 @ 9:31 pm
It’s not that I was exactly unwilling to watch over these children, monitoring their every move. It’s just that I would’ve rather been somewhere else, probably on tumblr, wasting away my entire summer reblogging and fantasizing about all the awesome things I could’ve been doing but WASN’T doing because I was reblogging….
» Posted By elinmacrae On 05.23.2012 @ 7:44 am
This quest was a bit of a pointless one, really.
She wasn’t exactly sure WHY she offered to help him find his stupid football, especially since she hated that game. But he had marched up to her like some knight and said, in his fake English Accent, all sarcastic and charming, “My Lady, we must endeavour on a quest to find my ball of foot! Art thou joining?”
And, well… here she was…
» Posted By elinmacrae On 05.21.2012 @ 5:32 pm
Pile of crap.
Honestly- that makes me sound like some immature teenager with the maturity of a 12 year old prepubescent child. But I’m serious. A pile of crap. That’s what I believed myself to be staring at.
I glanced up at my mother, stifling any gag that was triggered from the wretched smell. “You want me to eat this?”
» Posted By elinmacrae On 05.19.2012 @ 1:09 pm
That’s when it happened. I saw it coming from a mile away, and when it happened, I cowered into my couch.
And not yelling, I mean full on, flipped – screaming, yelling, crying, stomping, punching, tearing at hair – that kind of flip.
I guess mental breakdowns are necessary from time to time… but did I always have to be in the middle of them?
» Posted By elinmacrae On 04.03.2012 @ 4:31 pm
Her tears slid down the side of her face; a crescent river. It shimmered, glimmered and seemed crystalline and so painfully beautiful at the same time.
» Posted By elinmacrae On 02.27.2012 @ 11:28 pm
The carnival was everything she had hoped it would be. The lights, the laughter, the rides, the fun, the goofy faces, the cotton candy…the company.
She felt her hand being squeezed by his and her heart clenched almost painfully with excitement. She made a list, quickly!, in her head of all the romantic things that she wanted to do. All the carnival cliches she watched in the romantic movies… sharing the cotton candy… riding the ferris wheel and having it stop right at the top… him winning her a stuffed bear…
She could hardly wait.
» Posted By elinmacrae On 02.13.2012 @ 6:02 pm
The beehive was spitting out bees by the hundreds, all chasing after its lone target.
He ran as fast as he could as the swarm of bees flew as quickly as they could toward him, their stingers alert and ready. They were not pleased. No one was to disturb their cornucopia of work and honey.
Ah but still, no matter how unintelligent these bees were thought to be, they recognized their target of interest. He frequented as much as he could, their home.
» Posted By elinmacrae On 01.25.2012 @ 10:09 pm
The bench was the place I was told to meet him. I wasn’t sure what to expect, because I had only talked to him briefly for ten minutes before he had kissed me so inappropriately.
I heard him approach from behind, so I turned to face him. “Where’s my money?” I asked immediately.
He looked taken aback. “Not even a hello?” He asked with that infuriating sarcasm.
“I pretended to be your fiancé, you promised to give me money.”
When I thought about how this would look to a third party, I cringed. This didn’t look good.
» Posted By elinmacrae On 01.14.2012 @ 4:18 pm
the oil was thick, smooth, black as sin… it disgusted her.
All she could think about what setting fire to it to get rid of it….
of course that wouldn’t work… that would cause more harm than good… what could she do? It was swathing the animals, the rocks, the children… when did it get here?
She glanced out passed the buoy and saw the ship tipped over, oil spilling out.
» Posted By elinmacrae On 01.07.2012 @ 6:17 pm
He was a mistake, it seemed.
A blemish on the face of perfection. That’s what he was. He didn’t fit in with anyone. No one.
He was alone. Nothing he did seemed right. He kept making mistakes and causing problems. He didn’t fit in…
He was a mistake, it seemed.
» Posted By elinmacrae On 12.17.2011 @ 9:40 am
No one deserves this.
She stares at her screen. Just trying to make a difference… of course there’s people like that out there, but… really?
“BITCH YOU SHOULD HAVE KILLED YOURSELF AT 16”
Really…? How on Earth can anyone say something like that with a clear conscience? How can they go to bed thinking they’ve done good in this world?
She thinks for a moment after crying, and starts to type:
“@JudgeWilliamAdams That’s alright. That’s you’re opinion, one of which you’re fully entitled to.
You can say what you want – I just feel sorry that you have to tell me to kill myself to get some sort of satisfaction with yourself.
That’s alright though – no matter what, I still love you.”
– A true story by Elin MacRae
» Posted By elinmacrae On 12.06.2011 @ 8:50 am
The skyline had been shimmering like the scales of a fish in a rapid river. What was this unusual glow?
Lyre stepped forward, unsure of herself and what could possibly occur if she stepped into these aurora borealis like waves of colour.
What was happening?
» Posted By elinmacrae On 11.29.2011 @ 5:05 pm
The dim light reflected only the larger contortions of his face as he gazed up in silence.
“Yes?” He asked, quirking his eyebrow. Merlin swore he could see a hint of smugness. The prat. Arthur knew what Merlin wanted to say.
“I-I…” Well, maybe HE knew, but Merlin sure didn’t.
“It’s alright.” Arthur said softly, his tone changing to complete understanding. “Me too.”
» Posted By elinmacrae On 11.28.2011 @ 6:24 pm
And the day goes on and she finds herself wondering why on earth she decided to come.
She’s waiting for something – anything – to happen. She tires of this daily quarrel with him and all she wants is some sort of satisfaction. A compromise, if you will.
Make peace, even?
She contemplates this just as a water balloon falls promptly on her head. She reacts thusly by shrieking curses, earning her glares from the elderly couple sitting adjacent to her.
Making peace? Ha! As if.
» Posted By elinmacrae On 11.05.2011 @ 3:08 pm
Of course she possessed enough obstinacy to remain passionate about her cause, regardless of what her ”friends” thought.
She glared as they snickered and giggled by her, whispering at her new friend, sprawled on the ground. He quickly gathered his books all around him.
“Don’t worry,” she said. “They’ll see straight eventually.”
He chuckled. “I think that’s already the problem. It’s a little too straight.”
» Posted By elinmacrae On 11.01.2011 @ 7:24 am
Let’s start a riot.
Start one, involve yourself in one.
Not to be violent. Not to hurt people. But to have that moment where you can scream, laugh, cry, cheer and just BE without having to worry about what you’re wearing, what people think, what people like.
» Posted By elinmacrae On 10.28.2011 @ 8:59 pm
Spring: the revival of the earth.
The night sparkles, the leaves begin to sprout, shuddering alive with relief. Finally, the cold has left.
The air hovers warmly, waving back and forth and offering some peace.
» Posted By elinmacrae On 10.13.2011 @ 8:36 am
I could feel his breath braiding and intertwining through mine, he was so close. He was leaning in and I wasn’t stopping him.
His eyes weren’t shut. I didn’t know if he was going to kiss me or whisper sweet nothings while I continued to relinquish my tears. All I knew was that I would not stop him.
Not at all.
» Posted By elinmacrae On 10.02.2011 @ 1:10 am
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Like, unimaginably dense.
I hear the words leave her mouth, but I cannot comprehend them because it is such an awful question that I can’t even fathom its existence.
I lean over to my friend and whisper, “did she really just say that?”
Leave it to the head cheerleader to follow the stereotypical idiotic label.
» Posted By elinmacrae On 09.28.2011 @ 2:28 pm