‘wow this turned out way longer than i wanted it to be’ a novel by 17
There are nights where he cries in his sleep, and I leave my own bed to be in his, winding my arms tightly around him. Those mornings, I stay there with him. The others know by now what’s wrong, and quietly turn the lights back off as they leave us alone.
Sometimes, he talks, if only a little. “They won’t go away, Jin-kun. Those memories keep replaying when I sleep.”
“It’s okay. All of that’s behind you now. You have a new future, and I’ll walk towards it with you. We all will.”
“I know, but it still hurts.”
sORRY FOR MY BAD WRITING
Miles of stars stretched out before him as he opened his eyes. His body felt weightless, and as he slowly turned to gain his bearings, he realized he was floating.
It didn’t seem real. No, he knew it couldn’t be real. It must have been an image, like the times those awful powers had drawn him onto Cray. This time, though, only space surrounded him, and he drifted alone through the void.
one of the typetrigger phrases yesterday was tomato. i didn’t think of anything to write until a day later. maybe it was for the best, since so far my typetrigger is literally all terrible gloomy shit like this.
Summer. It’s hot, and we sit in front of the fan in our underwear. Juice trickles down her chin as she sinks her teeth into a large tomato. I don’t understand how she can eat them.
“It’s really sweet,” she says offhandedly, “I hope our love stays as sweet as this one.”
I agree, because while I hate tomatoes, I love her. The smile on her face is interrupted only when she licks her lips.
thats an interesting question!! hmm i dont know ive never been told i resemble anybody famous? but strangely enough a lot of people have told me that i look like somebody they know, i get mistaken for long-lost classmates and coworkers a lot more than im assuming is normal!! maybe i have a lot of doppelgangers…
The hallways were unnaturally quiet, save for the muffled crunch of glass beneath his shoes. Beyond the broken windows laid still land and dreary sky. The courtyard outside sat empty, and the grey, muted light bathed not even birds. It was as though he’d looked away and missed the whole world dying.
Her hands are cold, but if he holds them for long enough, he can pretend the warmth he gives them is her own.
“ARE YOU ALRIGHT, KIRITO?”
The question is just as frigid as her skin. It’s pre-programmed, something she says when he hasn’t spoken for a while. His grip tightens and he inhales before responding, “I am. Don’t worry about me.”
It’s what he says every time she asks, and her reply is always exactly the same. “I CAN’T HELP IT.”
“Do you know all the secret jogging paths?”
I’d never seen the man before, in all my years of living in this complex. He must have been new, but I’d never seen any moving trucks, and nobody had so much as mentioned him.
“Er… there are secret jogging paths?” I asked, unsure what to think of his strange introduction method.
“Oh, yes,” he replied, gently wringing his dry, cracked hands, “Quite secret, and rightfully so— their beauty would surely be tarnished if everyone knew of them.”
“I see… that’s interesting…”
“You look like an honest fellow, though…! I think I could trust you with the knowledge of one. Care to find out?”
I only knew she was behind me because I heard her voice.
I hate this chick.
Really, I do.
“An epidemic disease that causes high mortality,” she stated plainly, “Any widespread affliction, calamity, or evil, especially one regarded as a direct punishment by God.”
I turned just in time to watch her push her glasses up. “That all?”
“Any cause of trouble, annoyance, or vexation.” She practically spat the words at me. “You.”
On the swing set in the park, I met a young girl.
Bright-eyed and inquisitive as could be, she first asked why I, a grown man, sat on the swing all still and alone.
“I guess I miss being your age sometimes.”
To this, she giggled. “Well, you should swing a little instead of just sittin’ there!”
Heeding her sound advice, I pulled back and pushed off with my feet, gaining a spot of momentum. This seemed to excite her, and she hopped onto the swing next to me.
While cooking dinner tonight, I accidentally cut myself. Fortunately, it wasn’t too bad— my hand slipped while cutting a tomato, and I took a small sliver out of my index finger— but it wasn’t the cut itself that caught my attention so much as what came from it.