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| Short story..; warning:dark,mentions of blood,religous | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Feb 4 2004, 10:38 PM (192 Views) | |
| solip__x3jjCM | Feb 4 2004, 10:38 PM Post #1 |
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be my lazarus song
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WARNING! do not read if you are offended by religous content... or vivid imagery of blood... >.< PIETA Smoky tendrils of steam rose off my crimson tinted skin. I lay crumpled, gasping for air, my chest spasming as if I had just been kicked in the solar plexus. Rivulets of cooling bathwater rain down on me, causing my soaked hair to cling to my shivering body. My flesh was scraped raw, evidence of my self-disgust and hatred. My bony knees were pulled tight, ((so tight)) against my convulsing chest. My hands grip my knees securely; my ragged nails forming jagged, enflamed half-moons on my tender skin. I had sex with Angel eyes. “ Oh god..” I moan out, a keening wail, the sound that the Madonna made when she was told her son was dead. The steady torrent of bathwater veiled the salty tears that were streaming down my gaunt cheeks. My hot tears contrasted violently with the cool water beating down on my head. I was drowning in my self-hatred. My soul was so saturated with my deep self-disgust that I could taste it in my mouth. I bite my lip roughly, practically sighing in relief as my blunt teeth broke through the thin layer of flesh and the taste of blood filled my mouth. I nearly choke on the overwhelming flavor of the copper blood, but I don’t spit it out. ((I won’t)) I hear a soft rap at my bathroom door, and I look past the curtain of my hair to stare at the door, half expecting it to fling open and show the grim reaper. “ Honey.. are you okay? It’s almost midnight…” I cringe as I hear the concerned and saddened voice of my father. I hated doing this to him. I hated burdening him with all my emotional baggage and my screw-ups in life. My insane ravings, and that was exactly what I was, insane. After the woman who called herself my mother left us for some younger guy, and daddy hadn’t been the same. “Daddy, I’m fine. I just.. I just cut myself shaving..” My voice is quivering slightly. I hated lying to him, but I have become good at it, lying to him as I cross my fingers in a childhood reflex. I feel my mouth twist into an insane smile. I reach blindly for my razor, not even flinching as the thin, twin blades slashed straight across my palm. “I’m not lying to him,” I whisper to myself, my own voice foreign to my waterlogged ears. I stare at the blood spiraling down my arm ((like how Icarus spiraled down unto his death)), thoroughly enthralled with the crimson liquid. My other hand tightly grips the bright pink handle of my Gilette razor, the blades morbidly stained red. I laugh. A mad laugh, a laugh reserved for the damned. I shakily wash away the blood under the clear water, and the water becomes tinted pink. I clench my aching hand, ignoring the sharp jolts of pain in my arms. I turn the faucet off, and I angrily wipe the remainder of my tears away. I stand up; my legs buckle from under me. My unhurt hand grips the side of the bathtub, and I again try to stand. My knees shook with an unspoken tremor, but I manage to get out the bathtub unscathed from any accidental injuries. I stand unsteadily, and my hand slightly quavers as it wipes away some of the steam off my mirror. My mouth drops when something akin to horror rakes over my naked form. Pale, almost translucent skin, pulled tightly over hollow cheeks. My full lips were cracked and bleeding. My amber colored eyes were horrifically cold and blank. My dark chocolate colored hair hung down to my back, still clinging to my damp body. My collarbone jutted profusely out, all of my curves vanished. “What have I become?” I quickly grab a large, fluffy towel from the towel rack, not wanting to see my horrid reflection anymore. I wrapped it around my body, and rapidly fled to my room. The carpet was rough underneath the raw soles of my feet. My room was my sanctuary. The walls were painted a light blue color, with clouds and angels flying around, dancing to a silent beat of their own. I walk toward my closet, facing a particularly odd wall. On the smaller wall I was facing right now, I had tacked and taped up pictures of angels and the drawings I had ever drawn of them. I had printed out the stories that people told on the Internet about angelic meetings and also had taped those up. I stare fondly at the blown-up picture of St. Michael, my favorite angel. I open the doors to my vast closet, and is greeted with the blends of color. Emotionlessly, I throw on my favorite pajamas, the one of golden cherubs with inane smiles on their adorable faces. My hands mechanically pull my long, damp hair into a high bun on my head. My gaze lands on another one of my collaged walls, this one full of pictures and replicas of famous works on Jesus. A small replica of Leonardo da Vinci’s The Last Supper and Dali’s version of The Last Supper was one of the few that were carefully tacked on my wall. Photographs of various Pietas were also taped, also with various bible verses. I stare at the poster I had gotten off E-bay. It was of Mary, holding her dead son in her arms. A Pieta. He laid on her, just flesh and bones with no soul. ((Like how I’m living right now. No soul. No soul.)) A solitary tear courses down my cheek. An ephiphany strikes me. “ Am I who you died for Jesus!?” My voice is shrill, “What in the world were you thinking when you thought that I was worth saving!? I cannot be saved,” My sentence ends in a mere whisper. I mumble to myself, incoherent words that I couldn’t even discern. Denial and self-hatred once again bubble within me as I think of the night of passion I had with Angel eyes. The ache in between my legs was enough evidence for me. “ I’m so dirty… filthy…. I don’t deserve being saved!” I end with a passionate cry. “ I don’t deserve to be saved!” I yell again, my voice cracking. All the sounds I could hear were of the flow of blood resonating in my ears and the sounds of my dry heaving sobs. Silence reigned for seconds, which dragged on to minutes. The angels on my ceilings stared down on my, disproval on their immortal faces. “ Lord.. are you willing to forgive me for sleeping with him?” My voice sounds impossibly meek now, not even a whisper. A small flicker of hope ignites in me. Hope. An emotion I hadn’t experienced in such a long time. I was traveling blind in the darkness, one hand outstretched to try to lead the way. I had drifted so far away. “Will you forsake me?” I hold onto an antique cross I had bought at a vintage shop years back, and the cold metal bites into my skin. Crimson blood pours weakly out of the wound, rivulets of blood coating the beautifully made cross. ((Is the sun going to rise red tomorrow?)) “ Is it your blood, Jesus? Is it your blood?” My question echoes in my room and thunders in my heart. My question is left unanswered. Silence. I humbly kneel on my bony knees, eyes transfixed on Jesus’ face in the poster of a pieta. Pieta. Pity. |
![]() sara | |
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| KiMcHiLOVE | Feb 5 2004, 05:01 PM Post #2 |
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Tray-ish-ee
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woah. This was super super good.... Really..... you are a really fantastic writer.....! Though it was a bit scary it is really... hmmm (thinking of word) sybolism and imigary.... it is really good.....! |
![]() ![]() blinkie: moley.... set: kRaZiEgUrL | |
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| Angel | Feb 5 2004, 09:43 PM Post #3 |
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C_Beyond ((chunsa oppa))
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i agree 100%! very good stuff, alyssa! Angel eyes....cool name....hehe |
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| Seoul Survivor | Feb 5 2004, 09:58 PM Post #4 |
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Thanks Jay!
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Extremely good Alyssa! Hey, how did you know my secret name is Angel Eyes? //Seoul |
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| Yo-Tai-Keizuke | Feb 5 2004, 11:44 PM Post #5 |
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H.O.T's Wu Jiok
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Lady Alyssa, i'm speechless. I agree with everyone. I commend you, though. I mean, i learned tons of words that weren't in my vocabulary. lol |
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"though the ocean is big...but it can wave and do a lot of tricks." -Val- Xbox Live Gamertag ![]() ![]() credits: Thanks to Jess (Shouling) Caliente like a volcano But beautifully bright as the sun She's my angel sistah Her name is lady Madison Yo-Tai-Keizuke Ukaji A.K.A (Also Known As) Edwin Express Love: (Kuai Ti Ai Qin) Hurry now Don't wait for time to pass you by Find a way to keep the sparks, alive alive Hurry now Don't let that someone pass you by Make the passion esscalate | |
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| solip__x3jjCM | Feb 6 2004, 05:26 PM Post #6 |
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be my lazarus song
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haha thanks guys... means alot to me.. eh.. it was a night before its due thing.. gawwdd i gotta stop procrastinating.. anyway.. LOL even tho i never said that I wrote it but its all good~ me and my frend Min are writing a book!!~ :yayaya: Posted Image ^ MIN!!~ hehe~ |
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| SCORE* | Feb 6 2004, 06:45 PM Post #7 |
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iamcool.
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I read this, but I forgot to reply. Yeah, excellent vocabulary and good use of imagery. I look forward to reading you and your friend's book! -Mal |
| Yellow Starburst is the new chocolate. | |
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| freshmint | Feb 7 2004, 10:43 PM Post #8 |
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sinisterly bitter
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o.O freaky... |
![]() you know you want to feed it D< | |
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| Yo-Tai-Keizuke | Feb 8 2004, 08:19 PM Post #9 |
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H.O.T's Wu Jiok
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Not fair! Woman...they're obviously superior to men...plus, they're gorgeous and they write stuff like this...i'm telling you, i can't wait for woman to rule the earth so i can be a slave. lol |
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"though the ocean is big...but it can wave and do a lot of tricks." -Val- Xbox Live Gamertag ![]() ![]() credits: Thanks to Jess (Shouling) Caliente like a volcano But beautifully bright as the sun She's my angel sistah Her name is lady Madison Yo-Tai-Keizuke Ukaji A.K.A (Also Known As) Edwin Express Love: (Kuai Ti Ai Qin) Hurry now Don't wait for time to pass you by Find a way to keep the sparks, alive alive Hurry now Don't let that someone pass you by Make the passion esscalate | |
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| solip__x3jjCM | Feb 9 2004, 11:45 PM Post #10 |
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be my lazarus song
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finally.. a man who lets go of his pride and ego and admits we are the better sex~ ^^* |
![]() sara | |
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8:26 PM Jul 10