227 posts
  • srishtikawrites 3d

    Diary of a Borderline
    March 19, 2018

    Nothing is fine. I feel sad and restless and disturbed and anxious all at the same time. I don't even know why. Too many thoughts running through my head that I cannot make sense of. My head is like tangled spaghetti which I can't digest. There's this constant buzz at the back of my head. On the surface I'm calm, but I'm a wreck within. There's an inexplicable internal turmoil that nobody understands.


  • serenitywing 3d

    Montagmorgen bei Kälte

    Die Sonne scheint, aber es ist sehr kalt. Minusgrade beherrschen die Luft und ich sitze drinnen. Trotzdem sehne ich mich nach dem Frühling, da der Winter an meinen Nerven zerrt. Meine Gedanken wollen endlich Wärme spüren. Außerdem ist der Montagmorgen von Sehnsucht nach Kreativität geprägt.

  • jardii_means_cake 4d

    Strange Stories From This Weird Book I Found.

    This story you're about to read is one of many. this book is a collection of short stories from all different genres. stories range from being as short as one chapter to as long as six. no two stories are connected. I found these stories in a book by a lake house and decided to share the stories written inside. the book belongs to a "Jerome H. Williams" if you know such a person please contact me. this might be there book and these might be their crazy stories.

    Alex Richardson was always a strange young fellow. He'd often be seen playing at the old lake house by himself. I once over heard him talking to someone, only to find that there was no one there. Mother always said "that Alex Richardson was a few screws short" and that "I don't want to see you anywhere near that lake house". I was never one to listen mother. One morning I rose early, earlier than the morning bird in fact. I was determined to meet Alex Richardson and make friends with him, but if I was to do so I had to stay out mother's sight. I jumped out of bed the minute the rays of sun came peeking through my drapes. I don't remember if I even slept the night before, the thought of going behind mother's back to do something like this might have kept me up. I slowly opened the door and it lets out this rusty Creek.

    Of all the mornings to make a rusty sound the door choose today. I ignored the door and hurried downstairs as softly as I could and grabbed the lunch I prepared the night before. I had no idea what Alex Richardson likes, he's such an odd fellow, so I packed everything a 10 year old kid our age would love. I packed a PB&J sandwich, pickles, and candy. Not even Alex Richardson could resist that. I hurried through the front door with little regards to how loud I was. I was already wearing my favorite Jacket and track pants so I saved myself the time of having to change clothes. The sky hadn't even been lit properly and here I was racing down the mud road through the forest to the lake house to meet a kid who didn't even know I existed.

    I arrived at the lake house and to my surprise Alex Richardson wasn't there... "Maybe I was a tad bit early?" How foolish of me. I'll hide behind a tree and wait for him.

    It's 6:22am, Alex Richardson hasn't arrived yet, no worries i haven't been here long.

    7:45am, Alex Richardson still hasn't arrived yet...I got hungry so I ate my share of the lunch...it's a shame, I wanted us to eat together.

    10:30am, still no Alex Richardson, and I ate his share of the lunch...

    12:22pm he's here! I see him approaching from the other side of the lake house.

    He's sitting close by the lake and puts his feet in the water, I observe him closely as I write this. I don't know who's lost more screws, him for coming here everyday talking to himself, or me for stalking and documenting him. He takes his shirt off and starts patting himself on the back, he's definitely lost more screws.

    He's looking in my direction...I think he sees me...

    12:45pm, Alex Richardson seems to have spotted me, I had no food for either of us so I panicked and ran home. Mother gave me one hell of a scolding for playing hooky.

    He's such an interesting fellow...I wonder if I can meet him again and actually have the courage to talk to him. Maybe. Maybe tomorrow.

    It's 12:00 on the dot and I'm already at the lake house waiting for Alex Richardson.

    This morning i got up and no one was home, it was a Saturday, my parents always sleep in on a Saturday...how odd. I went downstairs this morning and found that two lunches were already prepared and lying on the table, I found that very suspicious. I chose however not to question it but to instead take the lunches and head down to the lake house.

    Alex Richardson is going to arrive any moment now.

    He's here! I'll go over and talk to him, I'll write how our interaction went afterwards, wish me luck!

    Alex Richardson, such an odd fellow. This afternoon we met at the lake house. He didn't seem surprised to see me, it seems he was expecting me after spotting me yesterday.

    Our interaction went as follows. He sat down and dipped his feet in the lake as usual. I walked up to him with a warm smile...what I saw made me feel uneasy. His skin was pale, it had a grey-ish tone. He resembled a dead person. His eyes were pale and his skin looked dry, such an odd fellow.

    He looked at me as a child would a new toy, a look of wonder and awe. That look was enough to break the ice for me. I sat next to him and dipped my feet in the lake also. We ate, I actually got to see Alex Richardson eat. But that wasn't the best discovery of the evening. No, that came when I asked him his name. His voice was breaking, as if he was struggling to speak. He said

    "My n...name...is...al... Alexander"

    I was lost for words after hearing him speak. The way he looks plus the way he sounds was so much to take in. But i had to reply, so I said

    "Hi, I'm Jerome. My mom named me that cause she wanted a son"

    He smiled when I said that, perhaps he had never seen a girl named Jerome before. Or perhaps...he had ever seen a girl before. I shall see him again tomorrow, and we will have sandwiches again and I will learn more about him. Alex Richardson, such an odd fellow.

    (Part 2 coming soon)

  • judithnovianty 4d


    Pre order, kindly mail to:

  • serenitywing 4d

    Morgenstimmung im Tagebuch

    18. März 2018: Der Sonntag ist winterlich kalt und am liebsten würde ich Urlaub in der Karibik machen. Dort ist es herrlich warm.
    Im Tagebuch kann ich meine positiven Gedanken ausleben, die ich sonst nicht aussprechen würde. Der Tag beginnt heute mit Einträgen im Tagebuch. Das ist klar. Schließlich ist es ein Spielplatz für literarische Übungen.

  • serenitywing 4d

    Winterlicher Frühlingsmorgen

    Heute ist Sonntag, der 18. März 2018. Soeben bin ich aufgestanden und ich merke, dass es sehr kalt ist. Wenn ich aus dem Fenster blicke, sehe ich, dass es geschneit hat. Nun frage ich mich: Wann kommt endlich der Frühling? Denn ich sehne mich nach Sonnenschein und sprießenden Knospen. Ja, ich habe mehr als genug vom Winter!

  • serenitywing 5d

    Zwischen Winter und Frühling

    Minusgrade beherrschen die Stadt, obwohl es schon Mitte März 2018 ist. Anscheinend will der Winter noch nicht weichen. Ich friere, aber ich denke positiv. Denn der Frühling kommt bestimmt. Zumindest nach Ostern oder so.

  • theswordandtherose 1w

    It's been one moment at a time
    Not just learning to love you

    But to live in the fullness...
    Of loving you so...

    ©theswordandtherose 2018

  • christiestratos 2w

    Secrets in hiding
    but written to remember:
    written irony.


  • battygirl 2w


    I see the snowmen all gathered around in a circle. They are whispering, occasionally looking around to see if anyone is watching them. I am hidden behind a bush so they don’t see me. I lean in to hear what they’re saying. They seem to be complaining about the pets in our neighborhood.

    “For years and years pets have been torturing our kind,” one snowman says.

    “Jumping on us, peeing on us, owners using our arms to play catch,” another comments.

    “Now it’s time we get them back,” the first snowman continues, “Each of you will receive a knife and be assigned a house. At exactly 1 am, you will go into the house and slaughter any pets in there. Quickly get out before you are caught.”

    “And what happens after we have killed all the pets in the neighborhood.” one asks.

    “We’ll move on to people,” the snowman answers.

    I gasp. The snowmen hear me. They turn their head to the bush I am hiding in with a creepy smile.

  • battygirl 2w

    ��I know this story is a little hard to take seriously. The prompt was to describe what was happening in this really random funny photo. Of course, I had to add my own little twist. ��


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    Funny Dream

    Jack always had the same dream ever since he was a little kid.

    It all started with him skipping down a sunlight walkway in funny clothes, holding the hand of someone in a dinosaur costume. There was nothing else around and the walkway never ended, but he could hear chatting voices and carnival music.

    When he was little, Jack would laugh at how silly the whole dream was, but once he grew up, it became more and more disturbing.

    One day, he was driving down town when he saw that there was a local carnival going on. He was distracted by the chatting people and the circus music that he didn’t notice a little boy dressed in funny clothes holding the hand of someone in a dinosaur costume.

    They walked in front of the road. Jack saw them, but it was too late. He hit them with his car. Jack thought they were dead. Is this what the dream was warning him about?

    Nope. The boy and the dinosaur opened their eyes. The boy pulled out a knife and “slash”!

    I don’t what disturbs me the most, what the dream really meant, or that I wasn’t the only one that had this dream.

  • battygirl 2w


    Through his opened eyes, all he saw was black. The freezing water burned his skin until he was numb. He was running out of air. As he dove deeper and deeper into the water, he got the feeling he was not alone.

    Slowly, a slender, almost lifeless hand grabbed his ankle. He screamed. Water began to fill his lungs as he was dragged down. He tried his best to make out an image of what had been pulling him under. A monster? A demon?

    He curved his back and reached out to feel the hand and loosen its grip, but he was too late. He was drowning. As the light began to fade from his eyes, he thought of Annabelle.

    Who will save her now? Who will do whatever he could to save her from the grips of death? Who will love her like I do?

  • battygirl 2w

    Prompt: Use the word clandestine in your writing.


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    Outside the dimly lit room rain and hail poured down, lightning struck the earth with anger, and thunder rumbled and shook the ground beneath the building.

    “Shut the door”, barked a mysterious voice in the corner. He was a short and tempered man. His name- Fred Tailor. Fred liked what was unknown, and therefore called this clandestine meeting by sending out a messenger to draw in his victims.

    “What’s this about pal?” Spoke a voice familiar to Fred’s ears. It was James, a boy who had grown to an adult yet never matured. Fred looked at him with eyes of anger remembering how James had bullied him for years and years.

    “I’m not your pal,” Fred stepped into the light. The five of them sat in rusty metal chair in the center of the room. “You want to know what this about? This is about injustice. All of you have wronged me in some way. Now you will pay.”

    Fred walked on of the room and locked the door behind him. He yelled through a small opening in between the metal wall.

    “I’ve hid a bomb somewhere in the room. If you don’t find and deactivate it in time, you will know how I feel when you shattered my heart into a thousand pieces.”

  • battygirl 2w

    Prompt: write a poem about halloween, october, or friday the 13th


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    October Poem

    Warning you beware
    There is someone there
    It’s October
    Friday the thirteenth

    Shadows and a formless figure
    That follow me in the dark
    This is a month of torture
    This is only the start
    I hear crashes
    I hear voices
    I hear scratches
    Now my choice is
    To turn on the light
    And get out of bed
    It's too late to fight
    I'm already dead

    Happy halloween
    Happy the thirteenth

  • battygirl 2w

    Prompt: write a story about a cruise.


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    All Aboard

    I finally got lucky for once in my life!

    Recently, I had entered a contest to win a cruise on one of the biggest most glamorous ships the world has ever seen. I made sure that the contest was not just some scam.

    The drawing took place in the center of town and the mayor took an oath that he would pull a name out of the box by random. I was so nervous that I almost left. However, when I heard them call my name. I shouted, “That’s me!” and ran unto the stage.

    I had just finished packing now. I open the door and step outside. It is a beautiful day to go on a cruise. The weather is sunny and the water is crystal clear. I am nearing toward the docks. There it is, gently rocking back and forth in the tranquil waves.

    The steward cups his hands and shouts, “All aboard!” I rush onto the ship and hand him my ticket. My heart beats a thousand times a second when I see that it is even bigger on the inside.

    The stewards voice sound one more time, “Last call, All aboard the titanic!” The door closes and I head to my cabin.

    This is going to be a trip to remember.

  • battygirl 3w

    Prompt: Write a story with a spider in it


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    I sit on my bed, dreading of all the creeping things that may lurk in the dark. What if there is a monster in my closet, a clown under the bed, or….or...AH! Oh wait, that’s just a spider.

    The spider is dangling from a single thread right in front of me. It sways left to right, but keeps it’s red eyes on me. I swat it away, killing it.

    I have been so jumpy ever since that day....

    I was just playing around. Hannah and I were taking the subway across new york. She playfully shoved me. I shoved her back, but it was to hard. She lost her balance and fell onto the tracks. Then, the train came and….and...I’m sorry, I just miss her so much.

    I watch the spider curl up into a corpse. Suddenly, I feel something pinch my neck. I turn around. Like a single wave, hundreds of spiders crawl down my bedroom wall.

    They surround me and cover me head to toe. I scream in pain as I feel them bite my feet, arms, hands, and neck. Then, they all disappear, but the bite marks remain.

    I lift my head to see an angel. It’s Hannah. She cleans my wounds and whispers in my ear, “Satin is at the door begging to let the guilt overcome you. Don’t let him in.”

    Then, she disappears, leaving me alone.

  • battygirl 3w

    So we do monthly journals at school where some days we will get a prompt and do some kind of creative writing thing.

    I am going to post most of my entries with the tag #journal.

    Most of them are creepy becuase I have a habit in making everything I write super dark and disturbing or just sad.

    If you want me to tag you, let me know. If not I won't bug you about it.

    Also if you have a journal prompt from me, post it in the comments below and I will post the story as soon as possible.

    They can be anything from comedy, horror, romance, poetry, fiction, non fiction, etc.

    They can be complex or just completely random.

    Thank you��

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    Read caption

  • posedforpeace 3w

    On Illness

    Pay attention to the people who care about you when you are sick, life isn't good and you can't give them anything except kindness. Love those people harder. Some people only will be around you when you are shining and everything is going well and they can benefit in someway from your interaction.


  • larkylovesyou 3w


    No matter how many times I open a journal,
    I can't seem to find anything to write.
    My forlorn heart has plenty of thoughts,
    Plenty of memories,
    Plenty of scars.
    It's just that I feel like my thoughts are unworthy.
    Unworthy of the space on the page,
    Unworthy of the ink in my pen,
    Unworthy of the time of day.
    I'd rather keep that pretty little notebook
    Tucked gently away in my drawer,
    Holding thousands of memories,
    But not a drop of ink.

  • theswordandtherose 3w

    She was perfection in all that your lust desired

    She fueled your want
    She tugged at your need
    Gave you everything that would please you, satisfy you, keep you longing for more

    And yet, in spite of all you partook of together, in secret, in the darkness...

    You didn't consider setting me free so that you could be with her...

    Instead you took me down the road of a shattered heart and broken dreams

    And now you tell me you're sorry..

    ©theswordandtherose 2018