Fallen Angel


A thin Boy sits in his dark room on the end of his bed. He is silently crying. In his right hand he holds the sharpest knife in his home. Things were not always like this for him. If you had met him 6 months ago, you would not be able to imagine him in the state he currently is in. But, then for a fragile and sensitive heart like his, it is understood. After 5 minutes of silent tears, he slowly moves the knife over to his left wrist. He lets the blade rest on the bare wrist for a moment. Feeling the cool steel against his skin. It feels so… inviting to open the flesh. The blood in his veins starts to rush with the anticipation of a release, as though anxiously awaiting its escape from the confines of the veins.

Then he hears this loud ferrous and harsh voice in his head egging him on yell, “ You won’t do it! Your to much of a coward, plus you’d probably F**k this up, just like everything else you do, and not do it properly!” With that he quickly pulled back and down on the knife. The knife sank thankfully into his wrist, as the blood flooded out of his arm. He expected to be racked with pain, but to his surprise he found it quite exhilarating. He could see the long diagonal blood covered cut into his wrist but felt no pain. Just then the voice returned barking “ FINISH IT, YOU COWARD!” He quickly changed the knife from his right hand to his left. He couldn’t feel the knife in his left hand, but he knew it was there and more importantly that he could use it. So… he did… he slit right wrist. The right was not as clean or smooth of as the left. His shaking left hand was to blame for that.



The whole time not a single ounce of pain struck him, only exhilaration and the ecstasy of release. He sat for a moment, the blood running down his hands and pooling on the bed, soaking into the sheets and mattress. He sat there dazed, the blood rushing from the wounds like water from a broken dam. Then while sitting there this strange dry thirst washed over him. He stood to go down stairs for a glass of water, not really aware of what he had done to him self. Standing at first felt like he was floating, suddenly everything went black; he felt the cool rush of wind, and a slight sudden pressure on the right backside of his body. Then nothing, he felt nothing at all, only the faint sounds of a life fading away could reach him; the sound of his mother frantically screaming for him, screaming his name.

“Wake- up. ANGEL, Wake-up. Angel Boy stay with me. You have to wake-up.” Then it was Silent.

wow , tht is sooo good , i am speachless , i can hardly think wot to say , i am dazed from it , the imagry is fantastic , a sad story , but brilliant , i hope to read more of ur work.

good story ..well written.....

MimE

The white face
Black painted expressions
Mimicked Invisible actions
Silently yelling....
But No laughter nor smiles
Inside,Evil twizted smile
Shadowed thoughts grow
As eyes darken...
Crimson Red splatters
And the Evil Mime Emerges
Perverting the Innocence of the Mimes
Bringing a bad name to those sad sorry Clowns.
To Be Continued....


A work in progress but it makes me happy.

Amazing work...I am impressed <3

AHH....DEATHANDDARKNESS which one are you reffering to or are you talking about both?

Of course I'm talking about both...They're brilliant.

ME Mime Me

Fire Red Hair,Liquid White Face, Darkened Eyes, Black Expressions Painted on, Tall and Thin, yet Musclar, Celtic tatoos, Black Inked Winged back, Strange Strapped Black Clothes, Googles on Forehead, And a Black and White Jesters Hat.

A portait painted in words. But only seen on the inside. From a life long since past. What do you see when you look at me? To one a Soulmate and Lover, to others a friend, to some a freak, to a few a desire, and to Me a Happy Evil Mime.



Not really amoung my best, but I like it. I was bored so I wrote this.

i love pictures in words ...your pictureis good well painted..good work trip

julian

This was just a might as well thought to start this but now I quiet enjoy it. Normally I can only share these with my close friends, now I have more people to share with. I am glad you all enjoy my works. Every now and then I feel like it's crap and I should stop, writing all togelther."

I loved Fallen Angel, as well as the others. You're work is incredible.

love,
krissi

Two mimes in this park, One you'll like and one you won't.
Two mimes in this park. One mouth opens, nothing. Another mouth opens, cover your children's ears.
Two mimes in this park. One who makes you laugh, another who makes you scoff.
Two mimes in this park, One mime stuck-in-box , Other mime Slit-your-throat.
Two mimes in this park, One pulls on rope, others pulls on foot.
Two mimes in this park, (anyone care to continue this?)

i love this story it was very well thought out and i dont know how to explain it but i love it..

your story, though so short was very good. it is almost that of something that i myself would write. excellent job. keep it up, i will be back.

nick

As I sit alone in the dark, unable to sleep.I hear them. The full moon high. As the pain in my soul rises. The hot stale air of my room pulls sweat from my body. I look at my hands, the scars on my wrists from past failed attempts.
Aross the room on the desk sits my old friend. All shiny and new in the light. I tonight will be the night I make it stop, this pain I feel, tonight the mocking laughter will stop. I slowly stand cross the room, my knees shacking with nervousness and excitement. I slowly and hesitantly pick the knife up from the desk. Lookign at my eyes reflecting in the blade I tell myself no more dirty looks from you. Stumbling I go back and sit on the bed. No turning back now it must be done. Cold steel to flesh, releaseing the red river of life. Screams of pain fill the room, then slowly die down. The sight of the crimson liquid sends me into a roaring bloodlust. I must have more! Give me more! Give it all to me I must have it! Cutting and slashing, fledh tearing, and slit moans of pain. Then a massive loss of energy drops me to the floor. The life is gone from the room. The deed is done. The pain is gone. No more dirty looks and mocking laughter........................
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After a moment I rise to my feet walking on air, the burdens lifted from my shoulders. I leave the room. Then I remember the other dirty looks and stairs.
These fools know not what they do.Cross another one of my list,you may be next.

wow. still very detailed with such a great vocabulary. i love your stuff.

nick

Nick you said that it sounded like your stuff do you mind sharing? I like reading works of others like me, plus it gives me inspiration for more. If you don't mind that would be shibby. If not no biggy. Later, Trip the Evil Mime

A mime is a terrible thing to waste. Don't cast me aside I crave attention give me attention!!! Sorry just being wierd.