|Deviant Login||Shop||Join deviantART for FREE||Take the Tour|
I'm Only A Little Fearful.He was chasing me.
Always a step ahead of me.
But chose to be right behind me.
I couldn't run fast enough.
He held the blade.
Flickering as I took each step.
He was too close.
But as I ran..
He just flashed and ended up right behind me.
I don't understand why..
Why he chased me into my room.
Am I not allowed downstairs when the sun's gone?
My heart's still pounding.
I was supposed to take my medication but got too scared and ran.
He forced his image in my head.
Followed me downstairs in silence..
And then struck in the kitchen.
The knife was raised.
I knew he wasn't there.
But it was too real.
I'm nearly in tears.
But I can't cry.
Only shooken up.
I don't like the position I'm in.
No longer am I the puppet master.
But I'm attached on the strings this time.
I didn't take heed to the warnings.
And this is my punishment.
I know that I'm afraid.
And will accept that.
I won't let him take over.
I'm going to go on.
And the little fucker can screw off.
I know you're reading it.
Open Up That Sewing~ She cried, cried and cried and cried. She could do nothing to help. So she wanted to hurt something. There was a weird feeling in her face and chest. A dull, aching feel. And that's where she wanted to hurt. Hoping she'd be able to cut out a heart and mind, to see if she was real.
It's her fault. It's her fault. It's her own damn fault she let herself fall to such a low. Never once before as she considered that option. She doesn't need help. No, she needs it. She doesn't want to accept it. She will keep going. She will not stop. It is her own problem, but yet, it's like her drug.
Exhaustion takes over her, but she keeps going. She has no time to sleep. Guilt eats away her appetite, making her not eat. She doesn't want to eat. The food is bland, no longer sitting in her stomach right. Migranes. A now usual occurrance. She ignores her medicine, because it's help.
She's no longer there. Half of her brain doesn't work. Off trying to figure out things, too busy to pay attention to her s
I'm So SorryHe stood in shock, looking down at what he saw, phone gripping in his numb hand tightly. He didn't make it in time, he didn't.. He felt sick to his stomach, the brunette slowly losing feeling as the phone dropped from his hand as he himself dropped on his knees. He could have been there.. he should have! Tears slipped down his cheeks, a very hurt and confused expression on his face.
"----? Are you okay?" it was false hope, and he held onto his phone once more, scooting himself closer to the corpse, foam on the side of -----'s mouth, wrists still bleeding with the last of the blood. The body was cold, what was he going to do? He was shaking, very close to being sick. Why wasn't he able to stop it? Why didn't he? Guilt made fresh tears fall from his eyes, and he reached out for the phone, and dialed 911.
"This is the 911 emergency service, what's your emergency?"
"My.. my friend.. ---- commited suicide.." His voice was breaking, like there was a huge lump in his throat, preven
Keep in Touch!
Bluefley has a gallery filled with artwork that whisks you off in to a Sci-fi daydream, and keeps you captivated for hours. Marc has been a member of our community for over a decade and has achieved nothing but success with his astounding commitment to interacting with the community, sharing a prolific amount of video tutorials and generally being an all round rockstar deviant. It is no joke that we are absolutely delighted to award the Deviousness Award for April 2014 to ... Read More