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itsElisey

Joined April 2010 and calls elisey.tumblr.com home.

12 stories, 0 challenges, 12 comments, and 1 friend

“Writing is a socially acceptable form of schizophrenia.”

Stories

  1. Behind A Screen

    The wind wrapped around her neck, pulling tightly until air seemed to come to her in only short, perforated gasps. She gripped her luggage trunk more securely and clambered up the steep, rather icy hill; at the top was her goal, an old, dilapidated cot...

  2. 101 Wishes

    Christmas Eve panic suffocates mall-goers. Everyone is too busy with their last minute purchases to notice the little girl crouched over a iron mall bench. Her chubby fingers count small copper pennies. Her mother waits patiently to the sidelines, in t...

  3. Ain't Got Nothin'

    “Whazzat?” Eli stumbles over a loose floor panel, kicking crushed, empty beer cans. Another can is in his hand, little drops slipping down the side onto his old calloused hands. “Issat ’ou, Mar?” “It’s me, Dadd...

  4. When I Die

    “When I die,” Lia’s eyes flutter open. “-bury me in pink.” Abigail stares at her younger sister, the only family Abby has left, her hand combing back the sweaty hair glued to Lia’s forehead and her fingers laced betw...

  5. The Best of the Worst

    It’s funny that when I look back on my childhood, I remember very little on my own. But, the simple waft of a freshly baked apple donut or the seductively simmering smell of apple cider creates short, film like flashes of memories in my mind. Whe...

  6. Want

    I have an image of what my real parents are like. My mom, she’s thin and short, with my dark brown hair, but instead of my brown eyes, she has a crystal blue. She works in some little diner at the end of a street with the hustle and bustle of a small...

  7. Solace (Mature)

  8. Remedy of Pain

    Sweet, milk honey eyes graze across the light dew of the morning grass. Anna, a slender girl of fourteen, lets a solemn sigh twist off her lips. From the window, she sees the world a different place than she had the night before. The grass is less gree...

  9. Tradition is the Illusion of Permanance

    The house is silent. No playing children, no christmas music; only the reminder of the fallen’s absense. Beverly, with a delicate, aging hand, holds strings of garland between her fingers. Plastic beads slither from a box and onto the floor. An u...

  10. Wrong!

    High school is like the ocean. There are so many different life forms that you lose track of some. I’m that fish that no one can or wants to find. My existance in my school is only known through a student identification number and, believe it or ...

  11. Sorry, I Have a Heart.

    Dearest Lily, I’m writing this to you to express my greatest regrets. Obviously, I’ve been taking advantage of our friendship. I was under the impression that friendship meant someone to confide in, someone to share secrets and the turmoils...

  12. House Guest

    The cloud of smoke thins. For the first time, I see my captor. He is standing across the room, and his features are a blur. The hair is a mucky brown, the skin a pale olive tone: his outfit, an assortment of dark gray. I struggle against the rope that&...

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