"Its you and me against the world."

That was the last thing she said to me before running to the front line.

"Its you and me against the world."

I said as I entered a cold room, her body on a table.

"We did it."

She said when she woke up.

To put it simply

Hell has been plaguing me since birth

Hidden in the back

Broken in by the people meant to love me

Still I keep going

Now I’m free of them

And now learning to love myself

In place of the others that were supposed to

I tiptoe the line between compliance and rebellion daily.

I will walk the tightrope and then ever so delicately allow one of my demons to drag my foot through chaos.

Brief. But impactful.

Compliance is critical.

But only on my terms.

And.

Rebellion is a necessity to keep the lambs on their toes.

For without rebellion, there would never be a need for compliance.

And without compliance there would be anarchy.

I have no desire to overthrow anyone.

I just like to periodically, remind them that I’m still here.

how tragic, they loved each other

you're a kid, how does it feel

to know so much, and have no words

still a child, happy, excited

paranoid and riddled with insomnia

can abandonment be learned

or am i as terrible as i fear

kicking and screaming

so quiet, mature, a pleasure to teach

now it's clinical

failing, giving up, crying too much

praying to someone dead

feeling everything that keeps me alive

will one day kill me

The blood dripped from my hands. My mother lay dying, and it was all my fault. My friends had always told me never to bargain with Harold, but I didn't listen. Now, I paid the price. My mother's body was limp and cold, and the light was gone from her eyes. From that day on, I knew I would get Harold back for this -- even if it killed me. And it almost did...

In front of me sits a glass jar.

Once full now empty.

I want to smash it on the floor

but that wouldn’t solve anything.

I want to hide it away

but that won’t help me forget.

I want to fill it with coins, one for every drink I have. I worry it would soon be filled and would show my true self.

I know I drink too much, I know my jar was once full of tokens.

Each token a day I went without a drink.

The jar is now empty because I can’t face the truth.

Without a drink I remember, I don’t want to remember her blonde pigtails and velcro shoes.

Without my vice I have to confront the truth.

The night I ran her over.

I'm not sure if this is real, I just heard it somewhere. A parent was walking along with his young son and happened to bump into a neighbour. The little boy kept staring at the neighbour and tried to look at the back of the neighbour's head. The neighbour was perplexed and asked the young boy "Are you OK little one?Is something wrong?"

The little boy frowned and replied: "My dad said you have two faces but I can't see the other one."

My empty can of coke goes on a journey.

From my red rubbish bin to my black big bin.

From the trash collector to a landfill.

Pile upon pile of rubbish stack up.

Abandoned mattresses stacked up high.

Piles upon piles of black bags melting in the sun.

The bulldozer crushes the bags together, compacting them, making room for more.

What will happen when all the landfills are full?

We may pollute the sea, tying bin bags to weights to submerse them into the depths of the sea.

Then when we have polluted the oceans, we will look to the sky.

Space.

Rockets full of rubbish,

blasted off to space.

Bag after bag shot into space,

left to forever float in the mass of emptiness.

Rubbish bags on their own exploration into the unknown.

I saw the creature over by the roadside, hunched down in the brush, resembling what appears to be a large dog with thick black fur. Then the beast stood up on its hind legs, posturing itself like a man, a sight that still haunts me to this day.

#horror #twosentencehorror #werewolf #cryptid