DarkGoddessofAgony

The day of the assignment presentation came. The classroom smelled of flora and fauna. Flowers decorated the desk, at least from those who completed both assignments for 101, 102. Among them was a strange sort of potted plant. It did not seem to be a natural sort of plant, the petals and the markings a bit too strange. Well. He did say to be creative? Xerde stepped back from the potted plants, quirking a brow. The flowers of the strange white and grey happened to be his. It was a bit obvious, his name plastered upon them with the runes of his letters. The lead he had used to smear paper, to carve out his name, he had fashioned into origami

Procrastination should be frowned upon. Xerde held his pencil above a scrap of paper, sighing out. Much of this month was spent usually out in the forest. The trees. The foliage. Atop the greenhouse. Watching others get attacked, watching plants attempt to attack him through the glass. The Worst Greenhouse was his favourite perch, his body a tantalizing bit of prey for the trapped plants. However, his dilly-dallying had resulted in this. Crammed to a corner of a cramped library, he spread the notes of runes across a table. Using this, he claimed the corner as his. No one else was allowed to the area- attempting to join him resulted in more n

descend the mallet break open the ribs and then set free your heartbeat

And How Does That Make You Feel? My profession is my problem, for I solve other people but I can't solve myself. So I sink into my armchair and I ponder what makes you tick? I tap into your head as I tap at my temple with my silver loaded pen. I ask, "And how does that make you feel?" and I answer dead.

Pretend. It is another Saturday morning. I lay on the couch waiting, a couple hours before he even realizes I'm awake. My dad shuffles into the living room blending his words together. "Morning, kid." I roll over and sigh. "How'd you sleep?" Considering I sleep on a hard as steel couch I reply with a snide remark. He sits down in the worn out recliner, switches the TV on, and I lose him. He doesn't talk to me again until dinner. Mom wouldn't do this. "What was that?" I pretend I didn't hear him. I pretend I'm not there at all.