A mangled mutt limps through the shadows,
Towards the trash can on 21st of main,
Staring out the window a poodle yaps,
With big shiny eyes the mutt looks up,
Staring at the fluffy thing,
With a warm light glazing the image,
And he wonders why he wasn't choosen,
To be loved,
To be one that no matter who you are you smile and say,
"Oh your dog is cute,"
Instead he is kicked,
And looked at as a speckle of dirt,
What he wouldn't give to be the one in the window,
Would that mean he would be looking down,
At another version,
May you be happy,
Attacked with eternal love,
You are beautiful.
(This is to get the word count)
Just Hold On
"Mom! Mom!" Young Peter ran into the kitchen "Guess what happe-."
The old lady didn't glance up from fixing the old, leaky kitchen sink. "Quiet Peter. Let me focus."
"But the car! It was going too fast!"
"It didn't stop!"
"Just hold that happy thought, Peter..." She said, twisting the handle until the sink turned on and then off without a leak. She turned around, "Now what did you want. Peter?" He wasn't there. "Peter!"
The sound of screeching through the open kitchen window filled the room, and the sound of a scream- a thump.
"PETER!" She dropped the towel that she was using to draw her hands, and ran outside, crashing to her knees on the front porch.
Staring at the car that hadn't stopped.
For the Thanks we Give
Through the kitchen archway comes the sound of laughter and plates being set upon the table,
The smell of ham and gravy spilling throughout the house as the dogs play on the carpet,
Setting the cry of hunger and love upon my stomach and heart,
The light glows through the windows,
Out into the world,
And we give thanks for the world around us in a way that is both ours and others,
The cranberry sauce,
The mashed potatoes and gravy,
And the people around the table,
This is us,
This is who we want to be,
This is family,
And this is the thanks we give.
My heart thundered as I stared at my new apartment, it stretched above me, a dark and brooding place with dark windows, a cry for help. My bag was swung over my shoulder, the woman behind me with a hand on my shoulder, urging me forward before I was ready.
"Don't worry dear, your room is nice, and there is a just wonderful pool outback, for you and soon to be your lovely friends to share."
In the door we went and up the creaking, winding stairs, the hallway dark, and I could hear whimpers from behind closed doors, my door at the end of the hall covered in marks, a folder on the outside. It swung open with a slight push, the bed in the corner looked soft, the pillows a light gray, and the only window let in a glow, casting in on the dust on the floor.
Then the door locked behind me and I swung, my eyes wide, a scream escaping my lips.
"It's not my fault, I didn't kill him, let me goooooo!" but there was nothing, not a sound.
I should have stayed in my pool, with the body of my dead fiancé. I rather would have stayed in the pool and down, so I didn't have to watch him leave.
Winter Beside me
A brush of the fresh air,
Through the car window,
Music flowing like a singer's voice,
And I listen,
Until the light turns green,
The snow falling down,
The ivy on the buildings fading,
Waiting for spring,
Then the lights blind,
And the reports on the radio,
And I know,
It reached me,
The loss I never thought would happen,
But It did,
And now the winter,
has claimed me.
A brush of a hand against my face and I know he will comfort me, take away my tears, his face appearing in front of me, eyes a warm brown, telling me not to cry. Yet when I open my eyes there is only the curtains fluttering in front of the open window, the moonlight decorating the floor in dancing patterns.
The town was made of ravens. You could find them everywhere, from the power lines to the porches of the abandon farmhouses, and there were a lot of them. The town was small, only a few people lived there, and those who did knew each other like they had grown up in the same house.
There were as many ravens as there were stars in the sky, and every time someone passed away, it was said that there was a new raven. The raven was born of their skin. On the night that the Jeremy brothers were murdered, two identical ravens, both with blue eyes, the same as the brothers, sat on their graves.
There was an old lady who lived at the end of a one lane road. She fed the ravens; they swarmed her in town, when she went. No one ever saw her collecting groceries, and she only came to town once a month, the ravens following her. The town’s people called her the Raven Queen.
It is said she once told a girl that she created the ravens, that she was the queen of them. That girl had gone missing five years ago, and so had half the ravens. Some believed that the Raven Queen had taken a liking to her and the ravens would protect her... wherever she was.
Four minutes in and I knew I had made a colossal mistake.
The wind rushed the blinds, blowing them back and forth as the man who stood in front of them smiled coldly at me. He eyes were bloodshot, the physcopath who had killed my mom wanted to do the same to me, the bloody wire in his hands said it all, until he fell out the window. My soon to be murderer was still on the loose.
I’ve never been the type to settle down, I’ve never felt the calling people describe to marry or have kids. I don’t want to live forever or stay young. That isn’t the point of life. I want to see the world, and get old as I do so. Is that so wrong? The world is crap anyways, it’s all death and lack of respect.
A ship to Ireland sounds great, a plane to Russia makes me want to leave right now. I have the power to do so, with the stash of money my parents left, the fire that burned them to ashes and scarred me giving me a curse wrapped in the most beautiful paper. I’ve been begged, ignored bribery, and avoided death by people who have wanted my money to remove their greed. I can tell you, money only makes you more greedy. You get it and you will never have enough, I would rather spend it all on people who need it. Those who have never experienced it and don’t want it, those people who live life to its fullest and know what it is to live without worrying about the thing that affects them the most in this ruined universe.
I’ve been lied to, told my money would save a child’s life and instead gives the person a mansion. I killed that person in the dark of night. Poison soaking though their black heart until the blood that filled it could no longer support the hardened rock.
But because if everything I have done, most have backed off. Fake charity’s disappeared, and those who needed the money got it. I would like to say I’m the kind to not brag, but hundreds of children have found homes under my watch, cancer has gotten that much closer to being cured, and hospitals finally have enough equipment and staff to safe dozens of more lives.
Yet the money never ends, it hasn’t corrupted me yet, and I hope to keep it that way. Sometimes I wonder if life would be easier... if it wasn’t a thing at all.