Discover Top Posts Tagged with #then it started

I'm so dizzy the world is spinnninghgh for no good reason hell

#random yapping #Was fine until I got up #Then it started #And now I'm just dizzy #Even sitting back down

Tell me everything that happens in your life👁️

Strap in, it's going to be long

#summary of my life: it didnt start for a long while #then it started #fastforward #i'm here #ask #rambles

Then It Started

She had always loved art classes. Sometimes, Mr. Mills would stay late and she could use the supplies. She wasn’t very good at art, wasn’t allowed anything more than markers and butcher paper at home (to avoid clutter) but in the classroom it was something that she could just go wild with. Mr. Mills didn’t have an actual class, he just taught the other classes that would come in, one after another, and would give them a safe place to make a mess. For her it was a place to go when there was too big of a fight at home or no one was available to pick her up.

There were no desks in the art room, but large raw wooden tables that had inserted graphite and wax and were splattered with paint and stab wounds from razor blades and paperclips. There were stools instead of dinky plastic chairs. There was a wide open space in the center of the room for those who were too young to use such high stools and they could finger paint on large sheets of paper on the tan tile. They still missed and left beautiful murals of abstract colors with straight lines from where the paper had blocked out shapes.

It had never been questioned why she stayed there late.

All of the classrooms were lined with windows, so they could be looked in on from the interior hallway and looked out from to the bright sky on the other side. The blinds to the art room were almost always pulled, only rolled up when Mr. Mills heard wind that the principal would be coming by to check on them. It had been an addition to feeling secure and safe before, like anything that was said in there would stay confidential. Now she wished that the blinds were open. She would have to peer deep into the room, try to angle herself so that she could see through the blinds if she wanted to look inside the room.

The door into the art room, however, was unlocked.

@kainablue @detectivesebcas @brightening-the-stars @blue-diamond-kat

#my writing #horror writing #then it started

The It Started

She was Frozen

It leaned, one way and then the other, a bird trying to understand the worm. But there was no mind to it. It was just moving, like sunflowers trying to find the sun. And she was right there, unmoving, unable.

Choking.

There was the burning in her throat of vomit. There was the ice in her fingers. There were the words being told to her, a poster of them, all cramped text, over and over again all the things that were wrong and she was stuck. She was stuck with her thoughts and her feet were glued to the floor and she knew what she had to do, she knew and yet.

Mother had told her to just stand there and listen, she just had to yell for a while.

It had instilled in her the impossibility to fight back against danger.

The thing didn’t step forward, it didn’t have feet, but it lunged at her like a wave, spilling and racing, its hairs growing into vines as it sloshed.

No point in running from a tsunami.

It splashed around her, darkness darkness and it swallowed her up, pulled her in. What was it called again? When the wave crashes above your head and drags you out to sea? Riptide?

She wasn’t choking.

Drowning.

And it swallowed and it swallowed and it poured in and it met her bones and her lungs and all of her silly little aspirations, drowning them out like the night sky steals rationality.

@kainablue @detectivesebcas @brightening-the-stars @blue-diamond-kat

#then it started #my writing #horror writing