Endings - Blog Posts

FIXED IT!!!

My 2nd entry for @vibez_express’ DTIYS. I used @redladydeath's design from their wonderful (and incredibly dark) RAM AU @randomly--accessed--memories.

I was incredibly unsatisfied with my first attempt, especially the background, and decided to redo it. Still not 100% satisfied with it, but nothing’s perfect and I have a time limit. 

Here’s the original:

And here’s the extras!!:

My entry for @vibez_express’ DTIYS hosted on Instagram. I used @redladydeath's design from their wonderful (and incredibly dark) RAM AU @randomly--accessed--memories on Tumblr. 

Here’s the OG image:

Here’s the extras!:

And here’s the transparent stuff!:

I feel as if there's nothing to look forward to and I am feeling this after my high school ended.......WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH ME.

The enemy of love is OFFENCE.

There are endings, and there are endings. 

-

It was snowing, I think, that last day. Snowing the way it hadn’t yet, that year. 

The thing with snow:

It wipes away everything you’ve left behind, 

Buries it, 

like a pirate burying hoarded gold. 

We lay down our half-finished hopes, the midnight musings we’d  incanted into streetlight-lit hollowness. 

Hello! we cried. We are here. We are

Here, 

Like footprints in the mud and the branches of a fallen tree jutting up from the ground, we are

Here. 

There was moonlight, stealing away our

whispers 

like the wind borrows secrets, 

like a faerie steals a child. 

-

Count down from five, love. 

The snow is falling, and the stars are bright, and

the moon is listening. 

Count down from five—

promise me you’ll remember this is not the

ending it seems to be. 

-

—this is what it means to begin (y.c.)

i wish i were better at goodbyes.

yesterday was the last time i'm going to see you for a while, if not forever. not that i don't want to see you anymore - quite the contrary, you were (are) the biggest reason for me to wake up in the mornings. but now i'm leaving and you'll be gone, and i'll miss you. so so much. hell, i missed you when we said goodbye at the end of the day and i watched you making your way to the subway station, even with the knowledge that you'd text me that evening, to wish me a good night and that i'd see you the next morning, in school. these three months will be hell, and the years after, even more.

and what upsets me the most is the fact that we didn't even say goodbye. we stood there, awkwardly, in the middle of the volleyball field, with my best friend by my side and your girlfriend by yours and we just looked at each other.

you smiled. i tried to, but i had to turn my head so you wouldn't see me crying. i looked at you with tears in my eyes and you said "don't" softly, and that made me want to cry more. i said "yeah", and you smiled again, said "well", and waved. i nodded. you turned, took her hand, and left.

i started crying.

that wasn't a goodbye. that was an awkward standing contest, with your girlfriend as the judge. i could tell she was so annoyed because she had to be there. and i wanted to ask you for a hug, but i didn't have the courage. not while she was there. i don't want to be a problem, even though i probably am at this point.

i wish we could have said our goodbyes in the hall. just the two of us. you could have played brahms for me. i could have given you a hug and cried on your shoulder while you comforted me. that would have been a goodbye.

instead i just stood there in the middle of the volleyball field until i was hit on the head by a volleyball.

it was raining. the sky was crying with me.

i wish you were better at goodbyes.

From death, life.

They stand before her, and they brandish their weapons callously, carelessly. She knows they mean to kill her – she’s of no use to them. “Don’t run and we’ll make it quick, little girl,” one of them says. “You can join your family.” She knows that he is lying. The world is open before her, and she knows all that may be known.

She can see the silence behind them, the darkness. Death. The void awaits.

The men smirk. They are empty of life and humanity, worn to blood, bone, and sharpened teeth by violence. They expect her to beg. They do not know.

She stands before them, small. Her spine is straight, and her head is high. She meets his eyes.

“No,” she says, and her voice is strong and clear. It is still a girl-child’s voice, but there is something more behind it.

He is taken aback, but something nasty quickly enters his eyes. “More fun for us then,” he tells the others.

“No,” she says again.

“I am not afraid to die.” She tells them, and there is a universe under her skin. She feels her life like a star in her chest, and death like tides in her blood.

They roar with laughter and start forward. They step with heavy feet on soil rich with death. They do not know.

The darkness is behind them, within them, between every atom in the air and in the earth. It is within her. The silence.

“I am not afraid to die,” she repeats, “but today is not my day to die. It is yours.”

The raucous laughter enters the air again, but she can see something like fear rising in the eyes of the wiser ones.

The time for words is over. The silence is here.

She closes her eyes - and breathes. Life is here, she thinks. Death is here, she thinks. Truth rings strong in the silence.

The darkness rises in her like the tides. The empty space between the stars is here, between the pieces of the universe. Void calls to void. The hungry dark will devour all. The shadows grow, and –

She opens her eyes, but there is nothing to see. The dark presses like a living thing against her skin, but she is not afraid. She is part of it, and it a part of her. There is no sound, because the dark and silence swallow all. But she can feel them. She can sense their light growing dim. Their fear grows, as the darkness within answers to the call of the darkness without.

She holds both death and life, light and dark, silence and sound, void and star – in her hands and in her heart. Her light does not fade as the darkness grows. There is no fear in her. She has already passed through the void and emerged.

The lights in the darkness are gone. The sense of nothing presses against her skin. She waits. She knows it is not yet done.

She waits, and the dark waits also, hungry. It is restless and chaotic, and it would consume her given the chance. She remembers the star in her chest. And waits.

And in the consuming darkness, the void of chaos and nothingness, something starts to grow. She smiles in the blackness, and breathes in, bringing air into her lungs where there was none. The light in her chest flares. Her star fills her whole self. The shadows recede. She blinks in the sunlight. There are no men in front of her. There are no more bodies in the streets. There is only rich black soil.

She steps forward and kneels, brushing the dirt away from a bright green seedling. Life.