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I hate sleeping with you, Cause you are never there... I hate living with you. I should get a dog or something... Talking to myself is boring conversation. You and I were once friends. Now you're only an acquaintance Alone/ With You, by Daughter

Emo Forums » Emo Poetry (Reply)

xRoseFallx
Posts: 176
Willow and Sorrow *STORY* *LONG READ* Aug 18 2011, 07:16 AM
i didnt know where to post this!! but i finally finished writing my story... comments and crit would be great thanks ^^ Stepping out from the darkness, Willow opened her eyes to the new world in front of her, a world where people weren't always kind, where you had to put every person you met to the test.A year in the black.No lights to remind her she was alive, no voices to comfort her but the ones in her head, food and drink but nothing else. A bare room. Darkness. A lock on the door making sure she could not leave to witness the devastation outside. Alone. So alone. Only the beating of her broken heart to reassure her of the fact that anything existed... Every day she would count the beats. Time the distance in between in her mind. But today she walked up to the rusty old door and withdrew the key from her pocket.Terrifying images filled her eyes as Willow stepped out of the crumbling building, trailing her fingers against the flaking paint of the doorway as she prepared to leave her world behind. All she could remember was darkness then the lights shining oh-so-bright. Orange. Red. Gold. Flickering shadows danced along the pavement, twisting and writhing in pain, reaching out and calling to the souls of the dead.With every step she took on to the rubble-like stones, Willow regretted leaving the solace of the darkness. Fears plauged her mind like disease, spreading to every inch of her insides, destroying all she knew. It was a revalation. A realisation. The world was ugly. The dark was safe but painfully lonely. The light was shocking and stripped her to the bone. Everyone could finally see who she was. Her fiery hair matted and falling out in dirty chunks, her eyes strangely large and struggling to adjust to the change. Her skin pale as frost on lily but hard as a rock. Her nails like talons from an eagle. To everyone else she was a freak. But she knew, that to Sorrow she was beautiful. The graspinging hands of paranoia scraped thin slits under her eyes lining her hollow cheeks like tear stains of furious vermillion that raged to break free of her ivory skin into the air that seemed so cruel and evil, the world that had taken her beautiful Sorrow from her arms...Harsh memories plauged her mind... ********************************************************************* One day Willow woke up feeling a stinging hollowness in her heart. Something was wrong. She knew it. There was a voice in her soul that sung to her, telling her that there was something wrong with the world that day and her suspicions did not prove unfounded as later on she got a letter harshly shoved through her door... Sorrow was missing... This could not be real. He was her world how could he be missing? She needed him to live so for as long as she could remember she didn't live, she merely existed. Waiting. Waiting for Sorrow to come back and rescue her... But he didn't... ********************************************************************* Stepping off the rickety cross-country train, Willow stared out at the strange town. The place where she had first met Sorrow was here, right in front of her, once again. Even at the thought of him a wane smile began to creep across her face. It had been oh so long since she had been there and just the essence of the place, with its ghosts of memories, made her long to hear his gentle voice once more and to know that he was okay. Even from the start, Willow was always worrying about Sorrow ever since he told her the story of where he got his unusual name... *************************************************************************** The storm clouds swirled overhead, harsh winds tore at the flag designed to draw customers on the on the top of a red and white tent that stood battered and torn at the edge of nowhere. Running from the imminent rain, a young mother and her small baby dashed towards its entrance... Fiora, her name was, clutched her tiny infant close, looked around to see what kind of place she had run into mindlessly. Swirly patterned curtains draped all the way around the inside of the circus-like tent. Beads and beautiful strings of coins shone brightly in the golden glow of a thousand candles and around the edges of the exquisite persian rug that covered most of the plastic flooring lay hundreds of mystical items that both intrigued and frightened Fiora. Beautiful crystals, miniscule skulls and other, more unidentifiable objects, adorned the room and drew her in like a moth to a flame. "Are you okay my dear?" asked a quiet voice from the other side of the tent. Fiora jumped almost out of her skin and started carrying her precious child away from any chance of dangers. "Don't be afraid Fiora," the voice said again as an old woman stepped out of the darkness, "come over to me my darling." She beckoned. Fiora reeled backward as she realised that the rasping words were coming from the old ladies mouth but were coming from the beak of a small crows skull stitched neatly on to the shoulder of her queer purple robe. Across the old ladys mouth, where her lips should have been, was a row of blackened stiches. Her skin crawled as Fiora ran her eyes nervously over the peculiar marks. It had obviously been done agonisingly slowly for them to be that neat. The ghastly beak of the skull opened and shut with an eerie snap as it began to cackle. "So you've seen my stitches then deary?" The old womans neck writhed like a snake as she moved closer. "There's nothing to be scared of, my child, may look vile and dispicable, like some rotting corpse," with this she turned her head shamefully to the side to avoid eye contact, "but trust me, I wish you no harm." With a flick of her grey wirey hair, the old woman turned to pull out a set of carved mahogany table and chairs. On the table she placed a small shrivelled object, the size of a raisin, a pin and a bowl of shimmering water. "Take a seat." Came that eerie voice again. She didn't quite understand why but always one for politeness and good manners, Fiora sat. She was hypnotized by the womans green-gray eyes and unexplained stitches. "So," came the croaky voice from the skull, "are we ready to start Fiora?" Confused and startle, Fiora asked what there was to be ready for. "Why my dear, you are about to find out the future of your son! Why else do you think the rain guided you here? Are you excited?" What would have been a smile appeared underneath the rotting thread. Before Fiora could take in what was happening, the pin and shrivelled object where shoved into her hand. "Right, my dear, all you have to do is prick his marriage finger and let a small drop of blood fall into the water, then place the cobra heart in the water aswell." Horror flooded through Fiora. The object was a heart? A cobra's heart? Though she was sickened and dismayed at the thought, something made her follow through with the instructions, whether it was fear or curiousity, soon the water was tinged pink. It began to pulse like the beating of a heart. The mysterious figure closed her eyes and began chanting in a language that Fiora had never even heard of. Then in the corner of her eye dark shadows swarmed and pulsed aswell. Like evil demons the shadows grew vicious teeth, curved claws and thousands of spines like hypodermic needles. Around the room they span faster and faster collecting the curious items from the floor as they floated like malitious apparitions. As if an explosion, the shapes broke away from the edge of the room and ran towards the table...Towards Fiora. She crushed her eyes close tight. Hand after ice cold hand placed tiny white bones around the bowl.Fiora sat shaking and trembling violently in her seat, her young boy deathly still in her arms. The stranger sat unpeturbed. The bones began to fuse together and slide into the bowl. Like a bullet form a gun, half the water shattered into the air, evaporating into nothing. In the bowl on the table a spectacular snake writhed and straightened itself to its full height to glare at the frightened young mother with its other-worldly eyes. Flashes of brilliant gold, shocking red and pure white filled her pupils and stunned her senses. The world around her twisted and morphed. Then she found herself back in the strange tent rather then lost in the ghost cobra's eyes. She was told to look into the bowl, into the remaining water. When she did she could not believe her eyes, before her was a crystal clear image of a house. The room she could see obviously belonged to a teenage boy. What was she being shown? The boy was cuddled up on the floor crying. Weeping so sorrowfully she longed to hold him and tell him it was all going to be okay, but she couldn't. She couldn't even see his face. Then... Nothing. Blackness. The image faded away and she looked back towards the lady with tears in her eyes. Shattering the silence, the mysterious stranger asked if the boy had a name. Fiora went to nod but instead shook her head for she wanted to hear what she would say. "From now on he shall be called Sorrow. Leave now. The rain has stopped." Deeply shaken, the delicate young woman exited the tent. The sky was pitch black and starless. It was mid-day when they had entered the tent... ********************************************************************************** Willow sighed as she remembered the day when Sorrow had told her that story. Of course he had been too young to remember anything but his mum had kept a diary which pretty much explained everything. She remembered the slightly scared look in his eyes. He had tried to hide it but Willow had known it was there... ****************************************************************************** As she began to walk further into the town her eyes wandered all over searching for his face in the crowds. It was exhilarating being on her own for once. Everytime she had travelled she had always been with her friend Ruth, but she hadn't seen her for a long time; not since Sorrow had been reported missing. The only person she had been able to love, missing, presumed dead. It tore her apart mentally. All she wanted to do was run away and hide once again but she had run out of food and water and now she knew that the hunt for Sorrow was still on, she could not bare to leave the light. Before she abandoned her life, they had found the body of a young, white male with black hair and everyone had immediately presumed it was Sorrow but later on the discovered that was another boy from a nearby village. So there was still hope. Still the chance he was okay and that she could find him... As the masses swarmed around, Willow was overcome with panic. Too much too soon. Every face a jigsaw piece, desperately trying to fit in with her scrambled, broken memory. She hated the sudden closeness of hundreds of strangers, thousands of breaths like the scratching of mice in the cellar of a cold dark house... She couldn't take it anymore and soon she felt her feet pounding the now foreign streets. Where she was headed, Willow did not know but as she fled past shops and across roads memories came flooding back. The shopping centre where they had first met; her favourite store where her friend Ruth had bought a hoodie for her that she treasured; the bench where they had sat for hours and talked. Soon she found herself at the gates of the park where they had shared their first kiss. Tears welling in her eyes willow shakily made her way down the stone steps into the thriving heart of the park. Collapsing in a heap on her once favourite bench, she watched as the glistening teardrops splattered against the worn out pavement. Hours and hours willow spent sobbing with her head down desperately trying to shove her fists deep into her pockets. Soft as a feather came a hesitant tap on her shoulder. Her heart skipped a beat then immediately started racing at what seemed like a thousand beats a second as thoughts, possibilities, filled her head. Slowly, tensely she turned around to stare into the deep brown eyes of... Michael. "Oh." She sighed painfully as her heart came crashing down again. "Willow? Is that really you?" Michael blurted out as he tried to make sense of this girl. Her face, once glowing and full of love, was white as death itself with no expression in her dull eyes except one of agonising pain and confusion. "Yes. It is." Came a dissapointed and croaky voice from her chapped lips. "Oh Willow I thought you were dead!" Michael wrapped his arms around her in a massive, warm hug. There once was a time when they had been like siblings, close through Sorrow. Michael was one of the few of Sorrows friends that Willow trusted. His hug made her realise how much she had missed him and it strengthened her longing to be wrapped in Sorrows gentle arms again. "Michael," she simpered, "do you know where Sorrow is?" Hushing her gently he moved his arm from the back of the bench and shuffled closer to the emotional wreck. "Yes. Yes I do." The words drifted through the air like a dainty phantom on wings of a breath. Willow was startled at the sudden hope and leapt off the bench ready to run to him but Michael held her back. "Willow stay sitting. There's something I need to tell you.I'm really really sorry but um well... Sorrow doesn't want to see you because... Well...A few weeks after we found him and you had just disappeared we thought you where dead! And well I hate having to say this but he's found someone else. " A look of pure shock and devastation engulfed Willows face. She tried to mumble a reply but she couldn't speak. Once again, Michael wrapped his arms around Willow but she was like a statue. Unfeeling. "He wouldn't do this to me! We were soulmates weren't we? This is a joke! Or a dream! That's it this is just a dream! Ahaha well Michael I better leave, I probably have to wake up soon! See you next time I dream!" Then Willow stood up and walked away from the bench with a a grin convinced that it was all just a bad dream. "If life is but a dream," she spoke out loud to herself, "then I can do what ever I want to!" With her new-found freedom she set off on a brisk walk along the roadside pavement, watching the cars hurtle by. Still grinning like a cheshire cat, occasionally she started to skip like a small child as if the grey cloudy skies had to turned to sunshine and rainbows. For a second she stopped and closed her eyes, took a deep breath and pinched herself to wake up from the nightmare... But she didn't wake up. She pinched harder and harder yet she still opened her eyes to the bleak roadside. Desperate to escape from the ridiculous dream where her true love no longer cared for her, she started to scratch her arms. Savagely. Viciously. Drawing blood and leaving pink and red lines all over her broken skin. Nothing happened. It wasn't a dream. Either that or she wasn't trying hard enough to wake up. Her mind floated on an ocean of ideas and thoughts and eventually she gradually began to take action. She began to take action and started to scrabble up the nearest wall. When she reached the top of the wall she saw beautifully clear water cascading under her. She was on a bridge high above a large river. Then slowly, but surely, she stepped off into thin air around her and fell... ****************************************************************************** She woke up. She pulled back her bed covers to look around her safe little bedroom but to her surprise Willow wasn't in her room. Bright lights shone around her and machines bleeped in rhythm. A hospital. Sighing with misery, Willow lightly pulled the crisp sheets over her face and rested her head on her pillow. Eventually she drifted off into the dark... The dark of lifes final abyss... ******************************************************************************

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