Krysis-The-Weirdo

She sighed, drowsily rubbing her eyes. At this point her eyes have developed dark circles from lack of sleep, but they seemed fitting on her tired form. The girl inhaled, determined. She has a packet of work to do, school gave it out. Imagine her dissatisfaction. Right before break. The female decided to do it now for more free time. She exhaled, glancing at the drawings and photographs. Her other friends hung over her shoulders, giggling and laughing and smiling. She had been too, until this stressful week. These couple of days had done a large impact on her, and the girl hadn't been getting much sleep since her brother's death. Nightmares

Her eyes drooped heavily, washing her features in sleepiness. She sat on the soft bed, embracing its warmth. She had awaited something for a while. Something that stayed out of her desperate clutches. Death. She was not suicidal, no. She just had wanted the sweet comfort of death to take toll on her. Curiosity killed the cat. She wanted to see what death held for her. What happened after death. It was late at night. Looking at the clock, she had seen it was about 11:00 p.m. She climbed into her bed finally, wrapping the sheets around her freezing figure. She couldn't help but wonder what death held. Ah yes, her lovely and curious mind though

She stared blankly as her friends argued. She took no part in these verbal fights. No emotion was spread across her face as one swung, and the other dodged. It was always like this. One friend is wrong. Other tries to correct. Fights. Then actual... real... fights. She doesn't split them. An adult has to. After all, she couldn't do anything. She once again was staring as blood dripped unsatisfyingly out of her friend's nose. The other had swung. Finally. Then an adult came. She never perscribed the adults as 'teachers.' But they were at school. She had to. Well, to her she had to. An annoying voice of an adult rang in her delicate ear. Her

The black mane of Moonchill slipped around my small form as we rode. My parents didn't like me riding in the woods, but we made a compromise. They said that they would wait at the ranch every day to see me riding back. I sometimes made them wait because I liked having them alarmed. It's comical. I stopped Moonchill, and looked at my surroundings. Some withered and gnarled trees, some new though. All a lively green, with the crystal blue sky circling above, with some clouds that looked like rolled out cotton dropped into water. It was very calming and beautiful, with the brown dirt trail on the ground scattered with some forced off leaves and

Circling, circling. Stop. People climb onto the blue sphere. A start push from show-off friends of the climbers, thinking they go faster than I. Someone climbs in the middle. Circling, circling. Climbers get off, about to vomit or cry or is too sore or is dizzy. Circle. Stop. Teacher calls us in. I release my loose grip on the greasy, smooth bars. I take a quick peek at it once more. Enough space for six people. Seven if someone goes into the middle and stood. Blue, but a darker shade than the afternoon sky. An imperfect sphere, on a metal stick, also that frightening blue, tilted to be able to spin and leave a sickening memory feeling. I bl

She looked up as the teacher strut into the room. "Hello class!" Her lovely voice rang. "Today is poem day! That means everyone has to write a poem, and read it to the class! The subject this year is your honest emotions!" She suddenly had a stroke of fright in her eyes. She looked down at her desk, at her drawings. The pencils that were next to the paper were nicely dull, with eraser marks that were stuck on the eraser scattered on them. She jumped as pearl colored paper holding sapphire colored lines, and that red, garnet-like line across it vertically. The teacher continued walking, her black skirt and lavender blouse bouncing with her bu

If only the class could see her scars Bursting at her like a prisoner in bars If only she could accept her fate She's scared that her parents will scold and hate If only he could tell someone But the population that can help is no one If only he didn't see her skin On the tabletops and her blisters within If only she could tell everyone About her pain and dread If only someone believed her But no one does, leaving her dead If only he didn't get a grand Dinner and Brunch And look outside to see her hunched If only she didn't beg for food But they not worry, help will be soon If only she didn't tell Then after her beatings her parents would