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Fanfic Chapter 4You and William had finally gotten off the plane from michigan to California. The both of you were extremely tired due to the fact you guys had shared a three-seated row with a eight year-old. He definitely didn't want to go to California, so he cried a LOT and there were plenty of temper tantrums to go around. You were used to it, but you could almost see William’s tolerance dwindle. When you both got out your suitcases and got off the plane, you looked at William hopefully, praying he’d understand that you were scared. It seemed he didn't. You closed your eyes and inhaled deeply, holding it for a moment. You exhaled and opened your eyes again. You then peered around the airport, searching for anyone to ask for help. You jumpped when William tapped you on the shoulder.
“Your phone is ringing, Mellodi."
You scrambled for your phone, forgetting to look at the caller ID. You silently hoped it wasn't someone who was trying to sell you things again. Those conversati
LivingTogether Chapter 3~Sam~
The bus you were riding faintly smells of squash. You thought it was a strange smell, but you sort of liked it. You didn’t dare tell anyone that, though. You sat in a bus seat with faded colors that seemed to be dragged out from the 90’s. The horrible, horrible pit of the 90’s. Your suitcase sat in front of you, wanting to roll to the back of the bus. You held onto it loosely with one hand. To your right was a rather sharp, slick man, fixed in a very loose position. His hefty bag was leaning on his leg. His presence made the atmosphere just feel… cool. You felt slightly cooler yourself.
On the other hand, a man that was slightly shorter than you sat on your right. His arms were crossed and he was scowling in no particular direction. His brown hair almost covered his eyes completely. His bag kept falling over, so in a very frustrated manner he uncrossed his arms and threw the bag beneath his seat. He returned to his irked position. You wondered what
LivingTogether Chapter 2.5~William~
The creaking and settling of this quaint little house keeps your mind pondering and wandering off in the dark of the night. You stare at your ceiling for a few moments, becoming bored quite quickly. You sit up and turn on a light. After you switch on your electric kettle to boil some water for some tea, you sit at your new, shiny desk. A paper and pen sits before you, inviting you to expel those stories swirling around in your head. The kettle begins to boil water, making a steady grumbling noise. Before you even pick up the pen, you hear a shifting noise behind you. You turn to find a rather broad-shouldered man frozen in a tiptoeing position.
“Sam, what on Earth are you doing?” you question.
He was still in his ridiculous position, one foot on the ground, the other slightly lifted up attempting to step toward you. In one hand he held a half a stick of butter. He stared at you for a solid 20 seconds before turning around and pouncing his bed located on the other
longdead leafa longdead leaf
burnt brown in the depth of green
cups a handful of fresh water
a leaf left behind
holds something of worth
forgoing death with its dead body
Poetic PsychosisIn thirty seconds, the next shell would fall. Every night was the same, but every night Lorenzo experienced it as if it were the first time. His throat felt swollen; breathing was hard. He glanced around at the others; young men like him who had been shipped out in the name of honour and freedom. There was no honour in this, no freedom. Only death behind your eyelids, and a fear so gutting, that it carved out your innards and left you a hollow husk. Lorenzo tried to breathe, tried to assure himself that he was still whole, still made of flesh. They had lied when they told him he was ready.
Matteo ran towards him, arms out, rifle swinging uselessly at his side. He shouted for him to run, but Lorenzo remained motionless, unable to move as his friend’s warning was lost in the constant blare of gunfire. None of them were ready.
“The cycle is repeating. It is not safe.” The voice was soft and weak, yet it carried over the gunfire and battle cries without impediment.
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