Introverted Writer's Quiet Corner

Young Australian Writer who projects philosophical thoughts onto original characters and stories Click Here For Navigation!>

[yellow-mapleleaves]

Welcome!

Hello everyone! My name is Abbey and I am a Australian high school student who has a huge passion for experimenting through creative writing my understanding of human emotions and experiences. I post as often as I can, and I also do reviews on fictional characters on movies, tv shows and books that I view and express my opinion on them. I hope you enjoy your stay on my page for as long as you may be here!

[yellow-mapleleaves]

Reports / Reflections

*these are links for reports that I write about my own opinions on writing and many aspects of it

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[yellow-mapleleaves]

Watching The World End

Man and his dog go for one last walk

Who would’ve thought, the end of the world being live casted on the crackling box that was my tv and it’s damaged signal. It almost didn’t look real, it felt as if I was watching a crappy sci-fi movie. Flaming chunks of asteroid plummeting from the dark night sky, seeming like beautiful stars until they travel too close.

Out of all things that could have happened, of course 2020 introduces the end of the world. The year was a video game, each month being another level, more people becoming killed off each round. Of course having a pandemic wasn’t enough on us already. I guess the universe just wished for all of us to go, considering how we have reacted to big events in the past few months.

I had become numb. Not a single tear was shed as my eyes darted across the tv screen. I knew something was bound to happen soon to punish us for our stupid actions (I wouldn’t say mistakes, as we haven’t learnt from them). I guess being alone during a time like this was what I always wanted. I enjoy my company more than anyone else’s, even my own family’s.

My phone had begun vibrating, my mother's name popping up on the small screen, practically shouting at me already. I reached over and turned the screen over, so I didn’t have to acknowledge it. I wanted to spend my last few moments in peace.

I once read in a book a while ago that panicking during a situation that you can’t change is pointless, as it just wastes your energy. It seemed like I took that advice quite literally. Ironically, this is the calmest I have ever felt.

As I watched the tv screen flashing yellow and white, I began to imagine what type of music would be behind this scene. Perhaps ‘Oh Klahoma’ by Jack Stauber, it would be quite funny to listen to the jumpy radio sounds whilst running from an asteroid. I let out a small chuckle. Nothing like having a little bit of humour in an out of control situation.

I decided that it was getting close to the time it would hit my hometown. I wouldn’t want my last dying position to be in the rust bucket that I call home. I stood up and walked over to the tv to switch it off. All the light in the room disappeared, only leaving the corner visible where a small pink candle was burning, the flame violently shaking, just like the rest of Earth.

As I put on my black boots and large brown coat, my sleeping cattle dog Coyote woke, leaping off his bed and sitting at my feet, staring up at me with his multicoloured irises, so big and beautiful like the planets hurtling towards our world.

I leant down and placed a friendly hand on his head, “Come on Coyote, stay with me for just one last time.” I spoke quietly, as if I was afraid someone would hear me leave.

The walk to the field was strangely quiet, considering what was happening. A few minutes in, I was able to catch a glimpse of a group of fireflies in the blades of grass below me. I watched amusingly as Coyote began to chase them, attempting to trap them in his jaws. I almost felt jealous. I wished I wasn’t intelligent enough to comprehend what’s said and shown on TV. Us humans have it quite badly compared to dogs and other ‘less intelligent’ animals, I would love to be oblivious and cheerful when the world is ending around me. If anything, I believe the animals are more intelligent, as they don’t allow such shenanigans to alter their mood.

When we arrived at the large abandoned football field a few hundred metres from my home, I sat myself down directly in the centre and laid back, looking up at the sky that will soon crash into the Earth.

I couldn’t tell what was a star and what was an asteroid, every flickering light was mesmerizing, making the sky brighter than I had ever seen it before. I found it ironic that the end of the world was probably the most gorgeous thing I had ever laid eyes on.

If us humans were able to forget the consequences of some things, I honestly believe that we would achieve real happiness. We have altered our brains to constantly worry about the future and how the present moment will affect it. Sometimes, we should not care at all.

As the planets grew closer and Coyote curled up next to me, I closed my eyes and breathed in the fresh night air. “I honestly couldn’t be more content bud,” I said to my dog, “We honestly should have seen this coming, regarding how things have been going recently.” I smiled as Coyote rubbed his head against my hand. I was happy I at least had some kind of love with me whilst this all ended.

I felt the ground begin to shake and shift, turning into water underneath me. My heart became weightless, floating out of my chest and into the earth. Coyote whined worryingly, afraid of what was happening.

“Coyote, it’s okay,” I said in a calm voice, watching as the floating stars grew closer and closer. “We’ll be fine, this was going to happen anyway.”

Coyote looked at me, his blue eyes being the brightest I had ever seen them. “At least be excited about where we will end up next.” I smiled and scratched his head for the last time before my eyesight faded slowly to a friendly springtime yellow.

******

As the asteroids rained down on the bushlands of southern Australia, a young man and his best friend laid peacefully in a field scattered with fireflies, fully aware of the ending of planet Earth occurring around them. Only, it didn’t bother them, for they had everything that they ever wished for; a place to call home and someone by their side.

[yellow-mapleleaves]

Beautifully Insane

Patient 741 explains the hardships of being misunderstood

⚠ possible triggers ⚠

Tension. That’s all Chietar could smell in the air. Tension. It flowed into his broken nose, down his throbbing esophagus into his heavy lungs, only to come back up and exit through his dry mouth.

He was suffocating on the constricting atmosphere, thinking he’d rather not breathe than inhale the toxic air any longer.

Pain. Excruciating pain was the only way to describe how he was feeling. A devil was inside his sick mind, shredding every sane thought to pieces. Chietar could feel every single stab.

Ryia Mason, a young woman that stood against the white door however, felt no pain, no tension, as she was completely sane. Chietar eyed her in curiosity, frowning due to the lack of smell of fear that always radiated off his visitors, if he was lucky to have more than one each month.

Sweat dripped down his spine as she stared back to him, pity for the young man swelled in her large brown orbs.

Chietar shuffled, feeling powerless under her intense stare. The chains he wore on his bleeding wrists clanged together as he moved.

After what felt like years of screaming silence, Ryia used her voice.

“Chietar Knowles,” she stated in a rather low tone.

He flinched at her voice, having not heard someone state him by his birth name in years. It was the only thing that he remembered from before the asylum.

“Chietar Knowles,” Ryia speaks louder, as he did not respond.

After a moment of thinking, he decided to reply.

“That’s not my name, at least according to you freaks,” Chietar answered in a snarky tone. He bared his teeth, showing off his canines like a growling dog as he spoke. He sat up and looked at the woman, wrapping his clothed arms around his knees, which were protected with baggy white pants.

“According to you, my name is ‘patient 741’,” Chietar retorted quite rudely.

Most of his visitors would have left by then, realizing that he didn’t want to be bothered, but Ryia was different. Chietar’s red eyes widened as she took a few steps towards his damaged, bloody frame.

“Well lucky for you, I’m not like those other so called doctors,” her eyebrows raised as she spoke. “I’m not here to do tests on you and I’m not here to treat you like an aggressive dog.”

She kept slowly walking as she spoke; reaching Chietar’s alarmed body and crouching down to sit with him on the floor. His eyes followed her the whole time.

“I am simply here to ask you,” she continued, “How are you?”

Chietar’s heart stopped at the question, not knowing what to think. A million thoughts were running through his head. ‘What does she mean? How am I? Isn’t it obvious that I’m not okay?’ he questioned himself.

He stared into her dark eyes while trying to think of a response, a simple one that wouldn’t make him sound more deranged than he already was. Emotions flew through his brain, ones that he didn’t understand, feelings that he thought the devil had shredded. It was overwhelming for him as he began to tremble, hot tears built up in his red-velvet coloured eyes. How could such a simple question elicit such an emotional response?

“Please go away,” he sniffled out through his gritted teeth. “Please, leave me alone. I don’t want another decent human being.” His head dropped and his matted white hair covered his glistening eyes.

Ryia however didn’t move a muscle. She stared at the whimpering boy, not one hint of fear on her dark-skinned face. In fact, she was smiling at him. A smile that someone would give a toddler that fell over and scraped their knee.

The silence was torturing Chietar. He had unfamiliar emotions swirling around his damaged mind, not knowing what to do with them. He lifted his head slightly to see that Ryia had not moved an inch. At this, he gave into the devil inside his mind.

“Did you not HEAR ME?!” He gripped her muscular shoulders, nails digging in hard enough to bring blood gushing to the surface. “I SAID LEAVE!” he screamed into her fearless face.

Waterfalls were pouring from his big eyes, his bottom lip quivering, face turning red in frustration.

Ryia though, did not flinch, did not fight back or show one bit of fear. In fact, when Chietar had paused with his nails still deep in her skin, she slowly raised her hands and placed them on Chietar’s pink cheeks. She held his face like it was the most fragile thing in the universe.

Neither of them spoke a word, only stared at each other. They examined each other’s facial features, Chietar’s heavy breath hitting Ryia’s face.

He had forgotten how it felt to be touched by another human being. He had forgotten what hugs felt like and how it felt to have his face held. He hadn’t had physical contact with another human being in years, causing him to be incredibly touch-starved.

Tears flew out his eyes like a flock of doves, diving down his pale-white face and being captured by Ryia’s hands on his cheeks.

“I’m… I’m sorry,” he whimpered out, choking on the lump of sadness and guilt lodged in his throat. Chietar lifted his heavy hands and winced at the pain from his right hand due to him gnawing off his ring finger a few weeks before. The dreaded chains around his wrists only made it more difficult to lift his arms.

He gently placed his bloody hand over hers on his face. He wanted to stay like that; he wanted to forever have the warmth of another human’s touch.

“I-I’m sick,” he stuttered out, his voice shaky. “I’m so sick.” Ryia brushed a hand through his milky hair as he shivered and began to open up to her.

“I’m the sickest I can get. I want to escape my body and disappear. I want to run away from this shitty devil that’s prodding my brain like it's a toy. I want to cut my arms off so I don’t have to feel the unbearable pain these chains give me. I didn’t ask to be born like this! I didn’t ask to be born with a mind that is so far from being fixable! I have the ugliest mind of any human being that’s ever lived!”

Chietar screamed out his last few words, putting all of his energy into yelling, finally letting out the built up thoughts that haunt him every second of every day.

He sat there, feeling weak. The little amount of energy left in him escaped his body as he was yelling.

His tears were blurring his vision. He didn’t think he had the strength to even lift up his four-fingered hand to dry his red eyes.

Ryia placed an arm around Chietar’s shaking shoulders and a hand on the back of his head. She slowly pulled him towards her slim body, resting her chin on the top of his head on his snow white hair as he leant against her chest. He closed his eyes and sobbed silently, pressing his face into her pastel green shirt.

Nothing was heard except Chietar’s occasional shaky breath to replenish the oxygen he had lost. Then Ryia spoke:

“A lot of people may believe you have an ugly mind, but I think you have the most beautiful mind anyone could have.”

For the first time in years, Chietar let out a shaky, joyful chuckle. The happy sound warmed Ryia’s heart.

Disclaimer: the representation of mental hospitals and patients is completely inaccurate in this text. Do not take this fictional story literally.

[yellow-mapleleaves]

Immortal

an immortal skeleton discussing the intense highs and lows of life

*the skeleton character doesn’t have a specific gender, so I used they/them pronouns

An icy cold water drop that plummeted from the leaking roof of the cabana was enough to make Neoma’s body temperature drop lower. Realistically, anyone’s blood would have run cold if their eyes caught a glimpse of the soulless character that had planted their skeletal feet next to her small frame.

Their sharp heels clicked against the termite infested floorboards as they rocked their weightless body back and forth, all the while craning their neck upwards towards the invisible heavens.

The two gaping, empty black holes on their skinless face, that were usually filled with multi-coloured eyes on living beings, stayed deserted with dust collecting at the edges. Neoma wasn’t able to decipher whether they were capable of eyesight or if they were suffering in the insipidity of eternal obscurity.

Their skinless hands lay on the wooden railing of the cabana where the two melancholy individuals silently stood, mourning their own recent low-spirited lives. Their existence was like two overflowing rock pools on a forever abandoned beach.

Neoma’s breath seeped into the air as it escaped her chapped lips, floating off into the cool night and falling asleep against the sky. The hot steam shifted into doves as it floated away from them both.

A creaking sound cleaved through the ringing silence like a knife slicing through skin. The creature had tilted their skull sideways towards Neoma, black pits of nothingness beaming into the side of her head, which was coated with thick layers of murky silver hair. She had wavy milk-stained strands reaching to a couple of centimetres below her waist. The moon was jealous of the light she reflected.

The skeleton held their searing gaze upon her locks. They grew envious, for they wished their sunset pink hair remained with them after their woeful demise. They distinctly remember the perplexing amount of compliments they would receive each day aimed towards their coloured mane. Faces were painted with dumbfounded expressions when they explained that the unnatural colour had remained with them since birth.

It complimented their luminous eyes. Their now empty, black eye sockets once encased magnificent, viridescent orbs that appeared to hold an entire rainforest behind them, waiting to be explored.

“What do you think?”

Neoma was stunned to hear such a human sound escape from the remains of their mouth. She had expected to hear a more uncanny sound, like the kind of eerie noise made when scraping sharp knives against one another. But instead, their voice could only be elucidated as profound as a tigers growl, but as friendly as a newborn cub. Though, Neoma wasn’t able to decipher if their voice had a more masculine or more feminine tone. It seemed to incorporate both sexes stereotypical voice traits, creating a gorgeous, melodic tone.

Neoma shifted her gaze from the neglected landscape towards the towering, emaciated figure. Her ocean eyes locked onto their non-existent ones, staring into the darkness of their inner skull as they waited for an answer.

“What do you mean?” she murmured almost inaudibly.

“I mean the sky of course! It’s purely superb isn’t it?” the skeleton exclaimed. They threw their skinny hands upwards in excitement, gesturing towards the shimmering firmament.

“What would I have given to be carried up there by dead spirits instead of staying on this floating rock.”

“I mean, yeah. I guess it is pretty elegant,” Neoma stated whilst fiddling with the sleeves of her plum coloured jacket. She beamed at the emaciated hands that were placed on the railing, tapping slightly in anticipation.

“How long have you been alive for?” the creature asked, not taking their empty gaze off the lustrous stars.

Neoma scrunched up her nose in confusion.

“How long have I been alive for? My whole life, I guess?” she answered, turning her head towards their face.

“Yeah, I know that?” they said matter-of-factly. “I apologize, I forgot you’re only mortal. How old are you?”

Neoma held a face of confusion before answering their question.

“I’m… twenty-two years old,” she responded.

Talking to this creature was exhausting. Their speech seemed much more elegant and intelligent, like they were from another time.

“Oh! Wow, you’re very young! You have a lot of years ahead of you. Wow, I wish I was still that little,” they said, shifting closer to her, clearly excited.

Most people when approached by a humanoid creature with no skin would rush to find an escape, but Neoma felt no urge to start running. If anything, she was incredibly curious of this monster's origins and how they came to be.

The vibe that the skeleton held was delightful. Their jumpy tone made the air smile and laugh. Elation covered the surroundings like a soft blanket, making Neoma feel safe and warm.

“Well then, how old are you?” she asked after a short junction of silence.

The skeleton threw their head back and gripped the railing harder, laughter ripped from their extinguished voice box.

“How rude of you!” they giggled, making Neoma’s heart jump, afraid that she had offended.

“Trust my speech fragile mortal, for you wouldn’t wish to have the knowledge of the amount of time I’ve walked the Earth for,” they responded, holding a hand over their ribcage as if they were trying to calm their heartbeat

Neoma frowned at their movements. She wondered if they did possess a heartbeat, even when the lack of pulsating organ was very clear.

“How come?” she asked curiously. She cocked her head to the side, her moonlit locks pooling onto the decaying, wooden railing.

The skeleton let out a yelp before rocketing their hand forward and gathering her long, silver hair into their undead hand. They scolded her like a mother.

“Be careful! I would hate for your extravagant hair to become unclean from the rotting wood. Please do be careful with your hair. I would die a million times to have hair even half as fascinating as yours on my head”

They held Neoma’s hair in their bony hand, the strands overflowing on their fingers due to the thickness of it. Neoma stood up straight and watched the skeleton stare at her hair, bewitched by the amount of care and obsession they seemed to have for her locks.

“Oh, please excuse my disrespect,” the creature said, surrendering their constraint on the girl’s hair. “I only wished to study your hair a bit closer.”

Neoma gave a half-hearted smile to the skeleton, allowing her pearly white teeth to shine past her lips, reflecting the moonlight alongside her hair.

The skeleton felt their ‘heart’ skip a beat as she did so, being dazed by her almost inhuman beauty.

She turned her body back to the railing and looked up towards the scintillating sky again. The suns flickering billions of light years away shimmered and gleamed at her. It’s like they were speaking in Morse code, trying to disseminate with the rest of the universe that their time is almost up. The moment when they will detonate into a black hole of nothingness is nearing. They would demolish everything that comes in a specific radius of them, stretching and pulling them until eventually snapping out of existence.

A rough shiver rippled up Neoma’s spine, vibrating her bones. She figured it was about time she began walking home, back to her lovely abode to settle in for the night with her feathery companion, Leo the barn owl. Even thinking about it made her feel warmer.

“I apologize, but I should start heading home,” she declared, looking back over to the skeleton.

The creature glanced at her and gave the best smile they could while having no skin or face muscles. Neoma admired their attempt of returning her kindness, even when they were biologically incapable of doing so.

“Don’t worry, pretty one, I completely understand. I really appreciate that you took time out of your short life to talk to me. You sure are one of the kindness and most gorgeous mortals I have met this decade. I’ll commemorate you,” the creature said. “And don’t forget to maintain your hair, it’s awfully too exquisite for its own good.”

The girl gave an effusive smile towards them, but it dropped again when she realized that she most likely won’t encounter the emaciated being again.

“Where will you go?” she asked curiously, “Do you have a home to get back to?”

The skeleton leaned forward and implanted their ulna on the rotting railing, placing their head into their hands, creating an odd sound of bones rattling together.

And so, he began his monologue.

“No, I haven’t had a home in a long time,” they began, “Actually, it’s more like I’ve had too many homes in a short period of time. I have all this space and time on my hands and I’ve used it to travel everywhere that is physically and emotionally possible for a being like me. I know every nook and cranny of this Earth. I’ve seen and felt the extent of how phenomenal things can be, like pleasant feelings of love and affection. I know the depressing and longing feeling of meeting someone for the first time, knowing that they will grow old whilst you remain the same for all eternity. And although you will be with them through all their good and bad ordeals, they will never have the time to truly help you with your own.

“Although, that’s only one of the feelings that I’ve grown so accustomed to during my life.”

“The heart-string pulling feeling of holding a newborn puppy. The small bean-shaped animal jiggling in your embrace and letting out sighs of exhaustion. Squeezing their feather-weight body closer to your chest to tune in to your heartbeat, your smile widening when they eventually pass out in your arms.

“Graduating high school and escaping all the stress of handing in papers in time and dating drama that everyone seemed to obsess over so much. Being so afraid yet so excited for what lays ahead of you in life.

“Being married to the one you adore with all your heart, feelings lodging in your throat when giving vows, coming out in the form of a choked sob.

“Walking down the aisle and attempting to glance at your soulmate through your tears of happiness. Tackling your own inner self to not sprint up the soft carpet to throw your hands around their neck, because even if you only had to wait a few more seconds to feel their warmth, that time never goes fast enough.

“The painful yet exhilarating awareness of going into labor with your first child. Going through hours and hours of torture, but holding the tiny human in your arms for the first time is always worth it.

“The feeling of watching your loved one going into labor with your child, eyes filling with happiness and proudness at witnessing your partner holding your child after a long night of agony.

“Watching your young children walk away from you for the first time. After taking forever to unlatch their clingy hands off your legs, pressing them to go into the big scary playground.”

The skeleton lifted his head to place his gaze on the empty air in front of them. “I am able to truthfully tell you that I remember each and every life that I have lived, and the amazing unique humans and creatures that I have encountered in each one.

“I’ve seen millions upon millions of dead pets. You’d think that I would have grown used to the feeling of grief, but to be honest, it gets worse every time I am forced to experience it. At this point, I begin grieving before they are even gone.

“I know the horrific and heart crushing feeling of being told ‘I don’t love you anymore’. That by far is one of the hardest statements to accept, because it makes you question yourself when you were most likely not the cause. It’s just by chance.

“I have developed more of an empathetic response rather than feeling sorry for myself during this situation. I am aware of how hard it is to tell someone that you know longer feel romantic love for them. I’ve had to do it myself many times.

“I know how it feels to be trapped. Having been locked up in a harsh prison for over half a century, watching my friends say their goodbyes before being taken to the lethal injection process.

“I’ve watched a lot of my families be shot to death in front of my eyes. I had to attend their funerals, eventually falling into an unemotional wistful being afterwards.

“The worst feeling I’ve ever had to experience though is the one that is a constant headache in the back of my skull. I have to invariably live with the reality that I am never going to escape this prison of living infinite lifetimes. I am never going to be able to end it. I can’t perish from old age. I can’t succumb to murder. I can’t die of execution. I can’t die of starvation. I can’t depart life from cancer. I can’t even take my own life. You can trust me, because I have tired all the options that I have, multiple times. I have done everything that one entity can accomplish on this cramped Earth, and I can tell you that it’s not amusing anymore. 

No matter how much I want it, or how much I try, I will never be able to close my eyes and die a proper and real death.”

The skeleton shifted their skull towards Neoma, a cracking sound cutting through the silence as they did so.

Neoma stared back at the skeleton, emotions swimming in her eyes, her mind battling itself about what she should say.

“I-I’m sorry,” she suddenly cried. She buried her face into her arms planted on the wooden railing, hiding her tears from the creature. “I’m so sorry.” she screamed, “I wish I could do what you so desperately want. It seems so simple yet so complicated. I am so sorry that us humans complain about having such short lives, when having a never ending one would be a literal hell.

“You immortal beings always seemed so powerful and strong to us, but from what you've said, I can tell you’re just like us. Only, whilst our problems are temporary, yours’s are eternal.”

Neoma sucked in a huge breath to fill her exhausted lungs. She lunged sideways towards the skeleton and encased them with her warm-skinned arms, placing her cheek on their collarbones.

The creature was taken by surprise and stumbled backwards. They watched as Neoma’s long silver hair weaved through their bones, falling in between the gaps and into their ribcage. Exactly where a heart would be if they were existing comparably to a regular human being.

The skeleton held an invisible smile on their face as they wrapped their skin-less arms around Neoma, placing one hand on the back of her head and the other on the small of her lower-back.

In that moment, the great and powerful creature held no regret or sadness, no thoughts on how bad their eternal life was and how much of a curse it was to breathe everyday. The old yet young creature was thankful to have someone who didn’t run, but treated them as an equal. As a normal human being.

Because that’s what they were, just a normal human soul inside a frame that will never fade away.

“Thank you, for helping me forget. Even if it was just for a second, you gorgeous human,” the skeleton mumbled out.

[yellow-mapleleaves]

Gluttonous Much?

⚠ possible triggers ⚠

Chapter 2: A Dozen Fire Ants

I already know what you’re thinking. Did Josh really eat a dozen fire ants? I asked Felix that exact question over and over after I had returned from collecting more firewood from a few rooms over after Josh had fallen asleep. Yes, there was a fire ant nest in the room that we were planning to spend the night in and yes, Josh did eat a dozen of them (or so I heard, I highly doubt Felix knew it was exactly a dozen).

A few hours earlier, Josh had complained about his incredibly bad stomach cramps, feeling more empty than ever. Felix and I found it rather strange, as we hadn’t eaten anything for days, and yet we felt fine. Not a cramp in sight.

I will tell this scene as best I can without having been there to experience it. Felix was able to explain it to me rather well, and I remember every detail he told me.

Him and Josh sat on the boarded floor, peering into the fire and saying less than a few words every couple of minutes. Felix explained that he was growing used to the occasional yells of Josh’s stomach, no longer being bothered by it. Josh grew less embarrassed, just accepting that he couldn’t control it.

Josh poked the tiny fire with the handle of a frypan, having found it earlier and grabbed it just in case we were in need of a weapon. Whilst doing this, he felt a small tip toe across his hand that was resting on the ground, which diverted his attention.

On his hand he noticed four soldier fire ants. Instead of flickering them off like any normal human would do, his stomach yelled at him as soon as he locked eyes with the tiny insects. Without thinking rationally, Josh lifted his hand and licked the ants off the back of his hand, chewing them immediately to decrease the chance of them biting him.

Felix, having been bored for the past few minutes, glanced over at Josh and noticed an ant scuttling away from his hungry mouth and up his arm.

“Oi Josh, there’s a bull ant or something on your arm,” Felix pointed out, straightening up his posture and preparing to smack the bug off his friend. Although, received a strange surprise when he watched his friend pluck the ant from his upper arm and place it in his mouth.

Felix didn’t know what to say as Josh picked up a couple more ants from the floorboards, gobbling them up as if they were sweets that had just fallen out of a piñata. Felix was more grossed out than concerned, cringing and covering his eyes with his hands.

“Josh, what are you doing?! That’s bloody disgusting!” he exaggerated, turning the other way.

“What?” Josh responded, “There’s nothing else to eat. I felt sick in the stomach because I hadn’t eaten in a while. At least now I’ll be satisfied for a couple of days hopefully.”

“Yeah, you’re the one who felt sick in the stomach,” Felix groaned sarcastically.

[yellow-mapleleaves]

Gluttonous Much?

⚠ possible triggers ⚠

Chapter 1: Piece Of Mouldy Bread

It started with just a piece of mouldy bread, the first item on my list of edible nouns. This one was the beginning, the food that caused him to give into his temptation further.

The trio of us, Josh, Felix and I, all agreed to enter a test that was to monitor our behaviours in a certain environment. We were given no extra details, only to be wary of our decisions. We weren’t sure why, but we all noticed that food was regularly thrown our way during the test.

Being the overly cautious girl that I’ve always been, I didn’t risk eating anything. Even when my stomach stretched and groaned, I didn’t dare eat a crumb from the food that was offered.

Felix was an incredibly picky eater, quite literally to a level of worry. He didn’t take a nibble of anything either.

Josh however, was the only more human one I guess. Whilst he ignored the first couple of offers, it came to a point when the feeling of an empty stomach was too foreign for him to handle.

As we trudged past a small cafeteria, separated from us by iron bars, we spotted a tall figure in the darkness sitting at a long table in the middle of the room. We thought nothing of it, considering the strange creatures we had already encountered.

As we were walking past him, he drew his arm back and hurled a piece of mouldy baguette from his plate at our alarmed frames, travelling through the iron bars and landing directly at Josh’s feet.

Josh frowned at the bread before turning back to the man, only to see him sitting back down at the table with his back turned to us.

Felix and I looked at Josh. He slowly bent down and picked up the bread, examining it closely before sniffing it quickly.

“You know, a mouldy piece of bread doesn’t sound half bad right now, since we haven’t been offered anything in a few hours,” he murmured, still eyeing the bread.

Felix and I glanced at each other and then back to Josh. “Knock yourself out I guess,” Felix brushed him off, “All I’m saying is you wouldn’t catch me eating something from an undead stranger in a dirty cafeteria.” He turned around and continued walking down the dim hallway.

I watched as Josh brought the bread up to his lips, nibbling on the edge of the grain-covered food.

“Not bad, I’ve eaten worse,” he stated, as he chuckled and offered me some. “No thanks, just be careful what you take from whom,” I warned him before turning my body and jogging to catch up with Felix.

Within the next two minutes, the whole of the bread that Josh possessed ceased to exist.

[yellow-mapleleaves]

Gluttonous Much?

Six chapter horror series about the deadly sin ‘Gluttony’

⚠ possible triggers ⚠

Prologue

A piece of mouldy bread, a dozen fire ants, a screeching finch, a trapped rat, a smelly piece of raw meat and a vulnerable sleeping friend.

If anyone could guess, I guarantee they couldn’t find the connection between these six particular nouns. Only after the events I experienced myself in those cold, damp rooms would someone be able to connect the dots. Don’t be alarmed, for I will explain why the following statement is true to both me and the few psychopaths that could answer my first question.

All six of these items are food.

Well, food can be defined as many things, depending really on how hungry you are. For say, a screeching finch would not be considered food to most people, but if you are starving enough, you might see the small colourful bird in a different light. Through the eyes of a gluttonous and starving person, that finch is as much food as the berries that it brings back to its young.

Perhaps to make you understand further, I can use the word ‘edible’.

You see, when considering a living organism as food, it is often sounding harsh and inhumane. But when labelling something as edible, it somehow automatically becomes more scientific and less frowned upon, regardless the fact that both words basically mean the same thing.

I am edible, you are edible. Every living thing is edible. It may sound inhumane to think about considering the horrific mental images that you receive from these words, but unfortunately, it is scientifically correct.

Now, enough of my rambling. I would like you to learn of my experiences of how these six nouns will forever haunt me, both in nightmares and in daydreams.

I should start by saying that this story is a very true story, regardless of it’s supernatural themes. In fact, this story is a repetitive occurrence that happens everyday all around the world. Only, it is portrayed in many different forms. My story is only one of thousands.

We’ve all experienced temptation before and we all have given into it at least a couple of times. It is defined as having the strong urge to do something wrong or unwise. While this statement is correct, temptation can grow into pure selfishness or as I would like to describe it, gluttony.

Unfortunately, I watched my old friend Josh fall to temptation over and over in front of my own eyes. After all, he was human. I can forgive him for his sins, as I am aware that we all have them.

Although only a few venture as far as he did. 

- Addy

Inspired by the Indie video game ‘Little Nightmares’

[yellow-mapleleaves]

Celestial Canine

text about a ghost dog

Why hunt this gorgeous creature when it brings all of nature to its knees?

She makes the moon’s pathetic imitated shine become insecure of it’s blinding lights as she pads down the train tracks. Her charcoal fur glistens brighter than any light that the moon can even hope to reflect. Crystals are embedded into her skin, blinding those who dare to step too close.

What could she possibly be searching for? She is the definition of insanity; repeating something over and over whilst always expecting a different outcome. She roves up and down the deserted train tracks, crunching snow beneath her large paws that held up the breath-taking canine.

Anyone who is fortunate enough to catch a glimpse of her polished irises can do nothing but only imagine what she is thinking of. She never eats, never sleeps and never runs.

The occasional echo of her deep bark rides the ghost train down the abandoned tracks, and people can only wonder which she dreads more: the hollowing sound of her sorrowful shriek, or the non-existent answer of her master.

[yellow-mapleleaves]

An Artistic End

short text about the death of Vincent Van Gogh

⚠ possible triggers ⚠

The crimsons that rocketed from his chest seemed to create a painting on the ground themselves. Such irony, a man’s most glorious artwork being the one he killed himself for.

No matter how the wind rides the sky on the ‘Starry Nights’ he decided to replicate, no matter the number of crows that screeched and cried in the artwork ‘Wheatfield of Crows’, nothing was quite more beautiful than the deep, miraculous, blinding colours that launched from his body.

The blood morphed into birds, then rainbow fish, then snowy fern trees, then eventually gentle sunflowers. Bright yellow happy pigments spilling from his back, seeping into the ground and planting themselves into the dirt.

Van Gogh’s mind truly spilt out with his blood, creating a gorgeous painting on the ground next to his decaying self. For all his artwork, his life’s work died with him.

It is truly unfortunate that the man, who saw the world through a paintbrush and a canvas, believed it wasn’t worth living for.

Perhaps, it is better to see the world through the eyes of a random stranger, than through the eyes of a suicidal artist, who did nothing but create his own world of beauty, which clearly wasn’t enough for him.

[yellow-mapleleaves]

Bloody Hands

Young man named Pip crying over his dying fiancée

⚠ possible triggers ⚠

“Sir, I’m going to need you to calm down.”

“No! No! I can’t! Leave me alone!”

Pip violently shook as he felt as if his whole heart was ripped out of ribcage. In his bruised arms, he held his fiancée's motionless body, her blue eyes shut tight, like as if she were sleeping peacefully.

“Wake up! Wake up you idiot!” he screamed in horror at her body, wanting nothing but for her to move, or for even her fingers to wriggle, only a little bit.

“Why did you do that?! Why did you jump in front of me?! You’re an idiot! Look what you’ve done!”

Pip’s own body shook and trembled with each breath he let out; tears were cascading down his pale cheeks, dripping onto his fiancées lifeless face.

“I hate you so much right now!” he thrashed the body around, hoping for her to react to his desperate behaviour.

“Sir, plea-”

“Didn’t you hear me? I said go away!” Pip yelled at the police officer.

He knew he was just trying to help, but at the moment he wanted nothing but to grieve alone.

He didn’t want anyone around him, he never did. She was the only person in his life he ever felt something for, ever cared for. She was his home, family and comfort. She was always there when he needed someone.

And now, she was potentially gone.

Nothing but a stiff pile of skin and bones, resting in his arms.

Pip’s crying came out in wails and screams, pain and melancholy flooded the screeches like a shallow pond on a rainy night.

“Please! How hard is it to just wake up?!” His voice was cracking, his throat hoarse from the cries he’s been letting out.

He felt as if his soul was leaving his body. That moment when he heard the deafening bang and saw her fall to the concrete ground in front of him. But not before turning around, and giving him a sweet, sad smile. Her white shirt then slowly staining deathly, deep crimson.

“God dammit,” he whimpered as he leaned down and buried his tear-stained face into her long, black hair. 

“God dammit. God dammit!” He builds up his voice, becoming louder with frustration.

“Why is it always me?! Why is it that when I finally find someone I care for, they suddenly get ripped away from me?!” he looked up at the sky, yelling his lungs out.

He didn’t know who he was yelling at. God? The world? Himself? He didn’t have anyone to blame but himself. He wanted to have a clone of himself in front of him just to yell profanities and throw punches at. His hatred for himself sunk deeper and deeper as seconds ticked by.

He opened up his blue eyes wide and let the waterfalls flow down his copper-coloured cheeks as he stared up into the sky. The dark abyss was awake with many gorgeous glowing lights, but they meant nothing to Pip at that moment.

Pip could feel the thick blood seeping into the knees of his pants. His heart became heavier and heavier with grief and hatred as time went by. He felt terrible that he couldn’t do anything but watch her bleed out. He wanted it to be a dream. He wanted to wake up back in his and his fiancées apartment, a warm duvet covering both of their bodies with the bright morning sun shining through the closed blinds, just like how it was that morning, when everything was perfect and okay.

He came back to reality quickly when he heard the distant sound of sirens, nearing his position. Everything seemed to slow down.

Hot, thick blood was dripping off his shaking hands onto the cold concrete below. Pip’s head was pounding from the force of his sobs that spilled out of his mouth. He watched as the blaring lights and sirens turned around the corner onto the street.

Pip couldn’t feel anything. His whole body was numb.

“Oh god,” he groaned out quietly, “oh god, oh god, oh god.”

He buried his face into his hands, then ripped away from them when he felt his fiancées blood against his facial skin. The smell filled his nostrils and burned his throat, causing him to gag. He thought he had cried all his tears by now, so when he felt more running down his face, washing the red liquid partly off, he was perplexed.

He turned back to her body, lying motionless on the hard ground. With shaking hands, he attempted to pull her cold body towards his trembling one, cradling her head so it didn’t fall in an uncomfortable position. He set her body on his lap so she was sitting up in his arms, tucking her head into the crook of his neck and rocking their bodies back and forth like a mother cradling a crying child. Pip couldn’t care less if he got blood stains on his new shirt, all he cared about was her. He needed to keep her safe. He promised himself and her parents that.

Pip stroked her hair, knowing that it was something she enjoyed. She mentioned that a couple of years ago when they were lying on the couch together watching a movie and falling asleep in each other’s arms. He would never forget those moments. The happiness and warmth he felt was overwhelming.

“I’m sorry,” he choked out, suffocating on his own breath. “I’m so sorry, I wish I could’ve protected you better. This is entirely my fault,” he whispered into her ear, hoping that she was only just conscious enough to hear it.

He tucked his face into her shoulder, trying to block out any outside noise.

“Please,” he pleaded out loud, “please be okay. I’ll do anything to make sure you’re okay.”

Pip could hear the sounds of heavy boots running towards him and his fiancée. He knew it was the paramedics, coming to take her away from him. He gripped her tighter, trying to get her as close to his body as he could, just wanting to feel her warmth, in case it was the last time he could.

He felt her warmth disappear as two paramedics grabbed her by the arms to lay her down on a carry sheet. Pip refused to let go, gripping her torso desperately.

“No! No! Don’t take her away! She’s everything I have!” he screamed at them, scrambling to his feet as they laid her down on a carry sheet. She was then lifted quickly onto a stretcher. Pip only watched as he saw the blood puddles left on the ground. His breathing quickened as they pushed her into the ambulance, closing the doors and immediately speeding away, not having the time to deal with his hysterical behaviour.

Pip stayed frozen, not moving from his position. He watched the blaring lights until they were out of sight. He felt his legs give out from underneath him and he dropped to the ground, head down and screaming his lungs out.

He screamed and screamed and screamed until nothing but rough, hoarse coughs came out.

“Please be okay,” Pip whimpered out, “I don’t want to lose you too.”

[yellow-mapleleaves]

Drought

A short text about cheetah fighting for their life

*Written in 2018

Twenty-three days. Twenty-three days of stomach cramps, bones cracking and a shuddering frame. Twenty-three days of a dry tongue, throbbing paws and dissolving hope.

It had just been over three weeks of hell, no food and very scarce water. The searing season had hit it’s peak as the sun shined down like a laser beam onto my spotted, sunburnt-coloured fur. Soon enough, it would have soaked up every ant-sized puddle across the vast savannah. I had been lucky to still be on my feet.

All the herds had moved out, walking towards the fuzzy horizon in search of something that would keep them going. I didn’t know what that something was, but whatever it happened to be, it was the least of my worries at that point.

I could smell the exhaustion radiating off my own shaking, frail body. I felt weak, powerless, helpless. Why did I even keep trying? I didn’t have a particular reason to give myself. Any other cheetah would have given up ages ago, lay peacefully on the ground and try to absorb themselves into the dirt.

Fear was the only emotion that had bounced around my mind those past couple of weeks. But I hadn’t been at all sure of what I was afraid of. Dying? Dehydration? Perhaps, but that was not a good enough reason to give myself. It’s not like I had a particular reason to live any longer. I had no family, no mate, no cubs, just myself and my lonely whines, which were never heard by anyone.

My thoughts spiraled around my head, like falcons trying to grasp at the smallest possible prey they could find, only no matter how close they got, their target was still miles away.

Every step I took, I felt a thousand more kilograms added onto my crumbling back. The earth felt dry and empty underneath the pads of my paws. It was almost like as if water never even existed.

My hollow stomach let out a low, groaning sound, like it was whining at me for not feeding it. A sharp searing pain shot through my body from the tips of my triangular ears to the very end fur strand on my limp tail, like a bullet through skin. The sensation was too powerful for me in that condition, as I stumbled and collapsed onto the sandy ground; a small cloud of dust rose up on either sides of me. I could hear my heartbeat like the stomp of an elephant in my weakened ears, gradually becoming slower and slower, indicating how close to death I was. I was gasping for oxygen while desperately trying to keep my tear-stained eyes open just enough to see the bright warm colours that painted the sky from top to bottom, mimicking a crowned eagle’s eye.

Was that how it ended? Would my four-legged body become just another skeleton rotting underneath the sun?

As my eyes grew heavier and my breaking became slower, I shifted my tear-filled eyes upwards to look at the sky one more time. It had never looked so unique and beautiful, even if it looked the same as it always had. It was like in that moment, I was truly seeing it for the first time.

The sun beamed down on my moribund body, smiling at me. I looked at the large, yellow star directly, causing my tears to roll out of my eyes at the harshness of light and heat.

The last thing I thought was how the sun was watching me, as if to say ‘I win.’

I released my final breath, and let my heavy eyelids envelope my teary brown orbs.

[yellow-mapleleaves]

Navigation

My Own Writings

Last updated: 29 / 12 / 2020 - Watching The World End

Reviews / Analysis of Existing Texts

Last Updated: 27 / 12 / 2020 - Alice In Borderland

Reports / Reflections

Last Updated: 15 / 02 / 2021 - Psychotic Antagonists

[yellow-mapleleaves]

Reviews / Analysis of Existing Texts

⚠ Disclaimer ⚠ These reviews I have written about characters and/or aspects of a text are completely my opinion. Do not take my analysis seriously as I literally only do this for my own enjoyment.

TV Shows

{Alice In Borderland}

Discussion on the realism in the characters personalities (Arisu, Karube, Chota, Usagi, Kuina, Chishiya, Niragi)

__________________

[yellow-mapleleaves]

Realistic Personalities in Characters: Alice in Borderland

⚠ Spoilers ⚠

Short Summary

Alice in Borderland  今際の国のアリス  is a Netflix original series about a young boy called Alice (Arisu) and his two friends who happens to find themselves trapped in an abandoned version of Tokyo in which they must take part in many life threatening games to survive.

I wanted to do a review on this series because I noticed that there were some characters that possessed very accurate and realistic behaviours and others that didn’t convey any emotion the entire show. I found it interesting that the mix of very different levels of well-displayed people was able to add to the already amazing plot of the series.

Characters Present:

Alice, Karube, Chota, Usagi, Kuina, Chishiya, Niragi

Alice - Protagonist

The main protagonist of the series is not always the favourite in most tv shows, but from looking at different reviews and people’s comments about Yamazaki’s character Alice, I’ve noticed that he is actually rather popular in his own fictional world. He is honestly probably one of my favourite characters as well, and that’s based on how realistic his behaviours and emotions are conveyed.

Some aspects and scenes of Alice that makes him a more convincing and realistic personality:

Being a normal young boy with no incredibly amazing skills

Not having god-like survival abilities just from being able to play battle-royal videogames well

Having flaws

Having only two close friends rather than a huge friendship group

Not being incredibly attractive and well-groomed

Not having a close relationship with his brother (not all siblings get along)

Having a bad relationship with his father

Having the very human instinct of survival by becoming willing to kill his friends to save his own life out of panic

Reacting badly to watching someone being killed (vomiting, screaming, trauma etc)

Not being incredibly serious all the time; actually having a sense of humour

Showing respect towards Usagi’s privacy

Having a very average style of clothing

Being awkward around people he doesn’t know

Excelling in one area (puzzles) but being quite disadvantaged at the rest

Making mistakes E.g. during the distance game, he doesn’t realize the trick of the game until it ends

Not being able to defend himself physically due to lack of strength

Not moving on after his friends’ deaths immediately like as if it doesn’t happen (it takes him a few days to even develop the energy to get up off the floor)

I would say I personally believe that Alice’s character has a strong and realistic personality, as Yamazaki’s acting and Alice’s reactions to certain experiences creates a sympathetic response from the audience.

____

Karube - Deuteragonist

Let’s be honest, everyone loves a bad boy character. During the short time that Karube was present during the show, I think he conveys both strong and weak personality traits. At some points I think the producers were trying too hard to bring a “tough man” façade to him, when I think he could show more realistic emotions and reactions.

Some aspects and scenes of Karube that makes him a more convincing and realistic personality:

Having a fiery and defensive personality (although it can more than often come across as immature)

Having a sense of humour even in tough times

Having obvious advantage in strength related survival skills

Not being invincible to fear E.g. running from the tagger during the “Tag” game and not even trying to fight back at first

Dealing with work related issues

Actually having a realistic dream life rather than one that sounds almost impossible

Being flawed but not too flawed

Having a love interest that he is forbidden to love (she is with another man)

Conveying fear through anger when Alice tries to kill him to save himself

Not having the nicest of personalities (not everyone is friendly to everyone)

Not having a overly selfless personality

I think Karube should’ve been included in the series more than he is, because his character is very lovable and many fans of this show obviously show sympathy when he dies. His character has a big, extroverted and blunt personality, and I think it is conveyed very well during the time he is present.

____

Chota - Tertiary

Although Chota is one of the main three characters in the beginning of the series, I honestly never felt that sympathetic for him. His character comes across as rather more annoying than weak to me. I understand that the point of his character is to have a weak and smaller personality to match Karube and Alice’s loud energy, but I think this person is kind of just there. He doesn’t do much, considering he almost loses his leg in the first episode and having to use crutches for the rest of the time he is alive.

Some aspects and scenes of Chota that makes him less realistic:

Being friends with people who obviously have dodgy jobs or no jobs at all when he is a successful technician himself

Doesn’t seem to have much of a life outside work and his friends, what are his hobbies?

Not exactly having much of a purpose in the show

Constantly having his guard up and being anxious or worried

Having too many flaws

Following a very different religion to that of his mother

Generally being incredibly different to Alice and Karube (I believe if their personalities were actually friends in real life, they would have too many arguments).

During the short time on the show that Chota had, it was more the point that his personality felt incredibly unneeded. It didn’t exactly serve a huge purpose in the storyline. As well as, he was hard to sympathize for.

____

Usagi - Love Interest / Deuteragonist

Usagi definitely has my most favourite back story of the series. Although, when researching about her I noticed that she is actually one of the characters that get the least recognition by the viewers, despite being in basically every episode and always being beside Alice. I have mixed emotions about the realism in her character, so I made both a positive and negative list to state both sides.

Some aspects and scenes of Usagi that makes her a more convincing and realistic personality:

Having a tragic yet realistic backstory

Using her mountain climbing skills as a huge advantage during physically challenging games

Showing obvious signs of grief for her father, even during the time she was placed in the game

Being insecure of her body

Fighting back against Niragi even when it’s obvious she won’t win

Having good survival instincts from past experiences

Willing to help others out when they need it E.g. during the “Tag” game she went along with Alice’s plan for everyone to work together

Having a obvious more introverted personality

Being too trusting, which ends up getting her hurt

Some aspects and scenes of Usagi that makes her a more unrealistic and poorly convincing personality:

Having too serious of a personality, not seeming to lay back and laugh for even a second

Seeming to have an unrealistic bravery E.g. during the tagger game, she didn’t seemed frightened at all despite that the tagger had a machine gun

Doesn’t react to graphic violent sights that would be traumatizing to humans

Not knowing what “The Beach” was despite being in the game for god knows how long

Overall, I think she is the awesome strong female character that a lot of thriller genres have. Although, I would love if for once a strong yet bad ass character didn’t act so mysterious and quiet all the time. But regardless, she is a good character that shows very human qualities.

____

Kuina - Confidante

Kuina is one of the more popular characters in the show, which I honestly can understand. She has obvious very strong manipulation skills as well as physical strengths like martial arts. Although, I believe her backstory is what truly shapes her as a character and is the reason why the audience develops such an emotional connection with her.

Some aspects and scenes of Kuina that makes her a more convincing a realistic personality:

Having a trusting and good relationship with Chishiya

Having a personality that conveys carelessness

Both social butterfly and keeps to herself

Being a character part of the LGBTQ+ community

Having a realistic backstory

Although having a bad relationship with her Dad, she still respects what he taught her

Having a parent that accepts her rather than just being abandoned, which is what a lot of Transgender characters have been stereotyped as

Being able to defend herself incredibly well

Giving her a human flaw (smoking addiction)

Having a elaborate hairstyle

Showing that she is not mysterious, she just has a lot of walls up

Showing care for people she doesn’t know E.g. warning Alice and Usagi about the militants

I really like Kuina’s character for her strong personality and her ability to build good relationships with the members at the beach paradise. Although she is not featured a lot during season one, the times we have seen her have obviously been enough to make her character very loved by the audience.

____

Chishiya - Confidante

I honestly could not find a more loved character if I tried. This character is such a small part of the show and yet you’d think he was the protagonist. I honestly think anyone would love a sly fox character though, because that’s exactly what he is. Although his personality would probably become annoying if he was a real person, in a genre like this he fits perfectly. So personally, I have mixed emotions about him, because I honestly didn’t get that emotionally attached to him as other audiences may have.

Some aspects and scenes of Chishiya that makes him a more convincing and realistic personality:

Having a cocky attitude at times

Has a underdog appeal to him

Mimics that of a selfish manipulative personality

Showing obvious signs of high intelligence, yet doesn’t blab it around like it’s a trophy

Gives the audience some entertainment

Having a sassy remark, even when his life is on the line

Going out of his way to do things that only benefit him

Having a personality that everyone loves and hates at the same time

Having that personality in which you can’t tell if he’s a good guy or a bad guy

Having a trademark, his white hoodie

Having a caring relationship towards Kuina

Some aspects and scenes of Chishiya that makes him a more unrealistic and less convincing personality:

Attempting to kill Niragi with no hesitation after knowing him personally for so long (that would be difficult to do even if you hated the person)

Not showing human emotions such as fear, worry or anger

Sometimes his personality came across as too selfish to be realistic

Not showing any signs of fear E.g. when Niragi waved a machine gun in his face, he didn’t even flinch

Sometimes his fancy words became a bit annoying

Everyone trusts him, regardless of how manipulative they know he is

Overall, he is a very entertaining character. In my opinion he’s like the personality that throws a match into gasoline then walks away like he didn’t start it. Although his realism in character isn’t exactly good, he is definitely loved for his good looks and sly actions by the audience.

____

Niragi - Antagonist

As much as I dislike this guy as a person in general, when it comes to creating a interesting and great character, he hit the nail on the head. He has one of the most realistic evil character developments probably in the whole series. His personality is so complicated and psychotic, which is what makes him an amazing antagonist and probably the second most popular character among the audience.

Some aspects and scenes of Niragi that makes him a more convincing and realistic personality:

Has a tragic backstory, making the audience believe that’s why he’s so psychotic

Having the delusional mindset that human nature is violence

Makes the audience feel bad for him, despite being a horrible person

Being a hidden antagonist (didn’t expect him to cause all the trouble in the end)

Showing obvious signs of psychological trauma

Conveys positive (yet destructive) emotions and behaviour, which is always a good break when all the characters are serious 24/7

Hits a breaking point in his emotions and goes on a killing spree

Shows loyalty to Aguni

Being awful to everyone, probably due to the fact that everyone was awful to him when he was younger. It’s a way of revenge

Becoming embarrassed when someone challenges him

Scaring people into submission (tactic for some leaders)

Conveys no care for anyone, honestly just uses everyone for either his own entertainment or his own benefit

Has a trademark, his machine gun and checkered shirt

Being self-aware of how evil he is

As evil and bad as he is, he’s one  of the most endearing antagonists I’ve seen in a while. He is a very psychotic and emotionally wrecked personality to him, as if you know something traumatizing must have occurred in his life for him to be able to murder anyone without batting an eye.

[yellow-mapleleaves]

Original Writings

*All works with sensitive content that may cause some readers discomfort are marked with a ⚠

Chapter Series

{Gluttonous Much?} ⚠

Six chapter horror story written in the form of diary entries

Prologue

Chap 1: Piece Of Mouldy Bread

Chap 2: A Dozen Fire Ants

Chap 3: Screeching Finch

Chap 4: Trapped Rat

Chap 5: Smelly Piece Of Raw Meat

Chap 6: Vulnerable Sleeping Friend

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Short Stories

{You’ve Never Met A Monster You Couldn’t Love} ⚠

A written letter in the perspective of someone who watched their romantic partner turn into a serial killer [750+ words]

{What A Wonderful World}

The insignificance of human kind is to the universe [400+ words]

{Drought}

A cheetah’s dying thoughts [600+ words]

{Bloody Hands} ⚠

Young man named Pip crying over his dying fiancée [1.2k+ words] 

{An Artistic End} ⚠

Written piece about Vincent Van Gogh [200+ words]

{Celestial Canine}

Text about a ghost dog [150+ words]

{Immortal}

Immortal skeleton discusses his good and bad experiences in a never-ending life [2.6k+ words]

{Beautifully Insane} ⚠

Patient 741 explains the hardships of being misunderstood [1.2k+ words]

{Watching The World End}

A man and his dog take one last walk [1.0k+ words]

[yellow-mapleleaves]

You’ve Never Met A Monster You Couldn’t Love

short story in the perspective of someone who watched their partner turn into a serial killer

⚠ possible triggers ⚠

I’d always believed that your deep eyes held all the stars in the universe behind them. You were in possession of a dangerous power that could manipulate the most realist of beings. Your stars reached into people’s souls, wrapping harsh ropes around them, pulling tighter and tighter until they pleaded helplessly for air. By the fall of one lonely tear down your flawless skin, I would have forgiven you for destroying the world.

I failed to see the clouds that distorted the shine from your eyes. I failed to notice the continuing stains of red nail polish on your nails, becoming darker with every evening you came home. I failed to notice that your pastel pink hair was slowly developing darker pigments.

You repainted your nails everyday at work it seemed, as if it was written in your mobile as a reminder. Your eyes became clouding over more, slowly destroying your vision. The rats ran free in your head, spreading plague across your thoughts, your perceptions and eventually your appearance. Nothing satiated them better than the foul smelling nail polish that coated your fingers like fur on a fox’s back.

I did nothing but sit back and watch as the rats destroyed the beautiful garden that was your personality, your humanity. They chased away the hummingbirds that whistled into your ear, reminding you of your aspects that labeled you a loving human being.

It was only when I heard you were fired from your job that I began to notice the virus that spread through your body. I realized you were never planning to approach me about the subject of your job, probably hoping to keep me out of it. But that brought more suspicion to the fact that you continued to leave everyday, regardless of being jobless.

The stench only grew worse. Nail polish began finding its way underneath your nails, down your finger and across your palm. The odor filled my sinuses as you caressed my face with your thumbs, almost as if the smell itself was trying to warn me. I could hear the scuttling of rat feet as you leaned your forehead against mine, and the galaxy in your eyes became more of a deep dark ocean, blurring your once mesmerizing orbs when you leaned in to press your lips against mine lovingly.

I fell deeply in love with you believing that I didn’t deserve you, that you were an angel with gorgeous white wings sprouting from your upper back, and for the first few years of loving you, that’s all I was able to see. It was my own fault; for I watched you become corrupted and evil right in front of my eyes.

I remember nights when you would dig your red nails into my shoulders, sobbing loudly into the crook of my neck, begging desperately at me to make the rats go away. To bring back the flowers that once grew in the meadow of your mind. Only I felt that I could do nothing but listen to your saddening cries while kissing your chapped lips and flushed face every few moments.

I watched and did nothing as your angel wings gradually lost their feathers, scattering the floor of our home and eventually singeing away like dead leaves in a bushfire.

I watched and did nothing as the red nail polish began to smell more and more like blood as it began making its way up your arm and into your heart.

I watched and did nothing as your eyes morphed into a colourless sea with screams of crashing waves echoed behind the thunder. Your once soft, pink hair turned into a bleeding jet black locks, with a coarser feeling to it.

I watched and did nothing as the rats became bored of your head and travelled south through your veins to your heart, eating away at any good intentions that you may have had left at that point.

I sat and cradled you in my arms, your body as lifeless as the angelic spirit that once inhabited your frame. Hot waterfalls of both regret and relief cascaded down my face and landed on your flawless skin, then wiped away by my trembling hands, stained with your blood.

I’m sorry that I didn’t do anything to help you. I watched as your angelic soul was strangled and eaten by a devilish spirit, making your body it’s home. In the end, the only way to protect you and everyone around you was to kill the devil inhabiting your frame, slaughtering the angel I fell in love with in the process.

I’m utterly and truly sorry, but you turned into nothing but a serial killer, and I am ashamed to have ever fallen for you.