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My Perfect Autumn
Bright oranges and pinks fill the sky as the sun rises, the crisp autumn air biting at my skin as I walk out onto my balcony with a leather-bound book in one hand and a nice hot coffee in the other. Bustling cars can be heard as the city slowly starts to wake up from the night; horns of cars, wheels riding along the streets, even birds calling in the distance. Even children are heard from the pre-school not too far away, parents dropping them off at the playground where they wait to go inside before rushing into their car to drive straight to work. People might find all of these sounds overwhelming from the bustling city, but with a book in your hand, listening to the pages turn as eyes scan through the pages of a thousand words, one might find it as calming as I do. It's all just background noise to my working imagination as I interpret the words into my own little fantasy world in my mind. Breathing in through my nose deeply, it fills with the scent of the coffee sitting next to me and the cinnamon broom hanging not too far away. Clear definition of autumn in my opinion, and it's a place I can call home.
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The Damned Monster Anorexia
Yet again, another assignment for English that I wish to share. We were given the freedom to create a monster and write a narrative about it, I chose to make mine the embodiment of Anorexia. With that being said...
WARNINGS!!: mentions of eating disorder and mental illness, mean comments (if more, please let me know, those are the only one’s I could think of off the top of my head)
Have you ever felt as if you're being watched from the shadows, as if you 're being preyed on from a distance?
He lurks in the shadows, something that’s not seen to the visible eye. Some can feel his presence while others cannot. He feeds away at your mental state, feeds on your sanity, slowly stopping you from doing an essential need; eating.
It all starts with a simple comment about weight; spiraling into a whirlwind of constant thoughts. He feeds on this. His pitch black claws seep into your skin, never letting go for the entirety of your existence. His black eyes peer into yours, holding your gaze until you’re brainwashed with the thoughts of excessive calories and weight. Obsession over the entity’s skinny body and limbs cloud one’s vision, blinding them with jealousy from everything else. Fear of gaining a measly ounce of weight overtakes the mind
Anorexia is his name. An entity of anguish. A demon of disorder.
Lengthy limbs enshroud his figure as he observes his next target, watching them spiral down into insanity. It fills him with glee. The target as of this week happened to be exactly like the others; a person who lets even the slightest of an insult get to them way more than they should. A wicked smile plays onto his face and his eyes light up with an evil glint while he watches from a distance, waiting for the perfect time to sink his claws into the flesh, the desire to do so only growing stronger by the second. He was famished and his hunger only grew as he watched his next meal spiral down to perfection.
He always had to wait for his next meal of sanity, waiting to the point just before it breaks, where all there is left is the strained last drop of pure sanity and the everlasting thoughts about calorie intake.
Anyone could see him if they really tried, if they paid attention to their friend’s attitude about eating or food in general. He didn’t try to hide himself, he didn’t care to hide, although the shadows are preferred.
He gets his fun by seeing others suffer, his fun only ending when someone forces his target to “get help.” As if that’ll help any. It does work sometimes though, making his meals more scarce as of late. That’s why he’s keeping this week’s meal within reach, constantly whispering the loathsome words to them, “cooking” them to his liking.
His whispers include:
“You need to lose weight.”
“How many calories is that bag of chips?”
“Is it really worth eating if all you’re gonna do is gain weight?”
“Everyone thinks you look fat.”
“You’re a goddamn pig. All you ever do is just eat, and eat, and eat.”
One thinks that in order to get rid of his consistent whispering, all they have to do is listen. Oh, how much more could they be wrong. It only fills his hunger more, leaving him a constant source of nutrients where he can satiate himself whenever he would like. However this couldn’t be farther from the truth. The only way to free yourself of his monstrous affinity to your hunger is to deny him as he wants you to deny yourself. You must be an absolute parallel to your thoughts to win this struggle. You may be inclined to isolate yourself as to hide yourself from the world, but it's better to surround yourself as his influence is only skin deep and can only suggest.
Anorexia doesn’t work alone, he can’t work alone. His right hand man is called Depression, who helps him by making your own thoughts seem untrustworthy; manipulating you into thinking you cannot trust yourself.
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These Hopeless Bluebell Thoughts
This was another assignment given in my English class to help us learn about the different tones when it comes to writing. I chose the color Bluebell, a beautiful blue color which sadly represents the hopelessness of a student who is burnt out on doing constant piles of schoolwork.
WARNINGS!!: just really sad tbh
Waves crash along the shore, the pale blue mixing with the small pebbles of sand. The bright blues of the of the sky reflect off the waves onto my face. There was always something so fascinating about the ocean to me. Maybe it was the way the waves and ripples show on my face, or maybe even the way the waves crashed over my feet before retreating back, taking almost all of the sand from under my feet with it.
Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to get lost at sea, to float freely withing those bluebell waves. There would be no stress, no worries, and certainly no piles of work that needed to be done for school. Would all of the pent up stress go away, or even all the times I cried myself to sleep because of how overwhelmed I was? I wish the waves would just take everything with them. I wish, I wish, but that’s all it would be. Just a wish.
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Frankenstein Gone Wrong
This was a free write assignment from my English class where we had to pretend to be Victor Frankenstein and put it in what we would have changed and done. Although this isn’t far from Shelley’s perception where Victor was scared of his own creation, I changed the story drastically.
So....
WARNINGS!!!: character death, big monster, nail-biting anxiety
READ AT OWN RISK (if you like scary movies, you should be fine)
No one could describe how proud I was for the accomplishment that I had just created, but no one could also describe my horror.
The monstrous being stood at a gargantuan height, his shadow towering my trembling form. His greenish hued skin, his black hair, everything about him was horrifying.
Running through the twisting, winding halls of my apartment, I try to escape but the monster’s heavy footsteps follow close behind me. I didn’t know where to go, nor did I want to run outside in risk of releasing this being out into the world where he could do God knows what.
A noise that could not be described was released from the monster. I ran into my bedroom, hiding from my abomination, left with only the regretful thoughts of this creation. His footsteps were the only thing heard behind the door I was currently leaning against. I held my breath, clasping my hands over my mouth to stop any noises from escaping. Closing my eyes, I try to clear my thoughts, but the only thing that I could focus on was the footsteps behind me.
They stop... right behind the door.
He bangs on the door, trying to open it. I run from the door to the other side of the room. The door began splintering under the monster’s strength as he continuously banged on it, breaking it slowly piece-by-piece until it finally caved in, breaking in half and falling to the floor.
His eyes were fixed onto me, never leaving my trembling figure as I take steps backwards to further distance myself from him as he continued to step towards me. My back hit the wall, causing my panic to worsen. There was nothing I could do, nowhere I could escape, the only thing being left was to accept my dreaded fate. So I did...
When he finally reached me, his freakish hand reached out to me and clasped itself around my throat, crushing my airways. I let him do whatever he pleased as there was no stopping him...
He threw me around as if I was his ragdoll and I let him, letting him bang my weak body against the walls and floor no matter how much pain blossomed from the impacts. At this point I was so close to death already that I was happy that the torture was almost over.
While still in his grasp, he threw me through my bedroom window, holding me in the air as he stared at my bloodied body and face. He must have found joy in my misery and pain, as he would’ve stopped if he didn’t. We stayed like this for a good thirty seconds before he finally let go of me, my body falling from my apartment on the sixth story.
“This is it. My life is finally over,” I thought while I fell, everything from my past coming back as my life flashed before my eyes. Gliding through the air felt peaceful, even through the circumstances that this was in. My eyes closed to help the peacefulness enshroud my mind before I finally hit the ground, the last thing I hear being the shrieks of the townspeople surrounding my now dead body.
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