Macabre-And-Forlorn

                I always loved going over to Karkat's place.                He lived in a homely trailer far out in a neighborhood down by the lake. You'd just have to cross the highway, walk for a couple of minutes, turn right and you'd be in the park that surrounds the lake. Karkat's neighborhood was composed of family friends, close family members, and a few druggies. For the most part, it was pretty safe-or, at least, I always felt safe there.                They lived on the hill. It was called the hill because there was a triangle of his house, the Leijons, and Karkat's aunt and uncle's home; the triangle was connected across the st

                Mituna's accident occurred on August 17 during our junior year. This was the same day that Meulin lost her hearing and Kurloz lost his voice.                The day is crystal clear to me. The sun was settling nicely into the horizon, a mosaic of purples, reds, pinks, yellows, and oranges swirling together in the sky, dripping and clashing with one another in a whirlpool, looking like little puffs of cotton candy that covered the cobalt sky and the barely-evident, twinkling stars.                It was the perfect temperature. A nice breeze that caressed my exposed skin and made my hair dance in the wind. It was like relax

                Cronus Ampora used to be one of Mituna's best friends.                I remember that before Mituna's accident, they would ride around the neighborhood on the motorcycles that Cronus had as his family was very well-endowed with money. They would always meet up on Friday night around ten o'clock, take a couple turns around the block, make fun of each other jokingly, do their secret handshake and then go their separate ways. It was the only way they could be friends because of their differing social classes, but I think they loved every moment together.                After the incident, everything changed. Mituna was differ

                It was midnight whenever I approached the black iron-fenced gate of my neighbor Ms. Serket, darkness prevailing in every window of the home. I had heard a struggle, a little bump in the night that aroused me from my bed and pushed me to go investigate. That's just what I did. What I saw, however, was not what I had expected.                Mituna Captor, the brain damaged boy that was tall, thin, and blessed with a shock of an extremely messy bowl-cut of brown hair, was sitting criss-cross-applesauce (as he loved to say at school) and clutching the presumably dead body of a mocha-furred poodle. There was a pitchfork protrudi

A lot of things in life are mysteries to me. I first figured this out whenever I met Kankri. He was pretty complicated, like trying to snip the correct wire on a bomb to defuse it. He was hypocritical, almost a bigot, and never was pleased with his 'conversations.' I knew that he was a complicated troll, one who had way too many self influencing habits and problems to handle. I mean, we all do. I may never know the true pain of being the shadow of my once tortured self. As that troll was merely a carbon copy of a great troll who tried his best to change things for the better, only for his life to go the complete opposite. He was a sufferer,

Eridan always was an aloof character. He spoke to her in the most subtle tones; his gentle voice swaying like the waves as he shared the voyages across that dangerous ocean. The way his violet pupils would glaze with the most jaded of looks; his face young albeit wrinkles dotted his face from that salt-kissed ship. Fins twitching lightly--his lightning horns glinting like a pair of daggers ready to strike King Duncan in secrecy under the fluorescent moon. Intertwining their hands together with a pulse throbbing through their delicate digits; he kissed her plush lips with a velvet caress. Eyes flickering shut in sweet, absolute paradise of b

                While scanning the contents of the newspaper and occasionally sipping the coffee in a mug, a certain Swede happened to find his interest piqued by the sound of screeching reiterating around every crevice of the home. Peering over the edge of the newspaper, he carefully listened to the various thumps and the pound of feet down the stairs; that was until the disrupting, baritone bark resounded and yelling as somebody fell down the stairs. Wincing slightly, he slowly tilted his head towards the door as he watched the only female resident in the house limply drag her body into the kitchen.                'Failed spell...' She fe

             January 18, 2015            Dear Diary,                            Today is one of the most important, greatest and glorious days during all of mankind; it is the Epitome of Awesomeness's Birthday. Three of my very closest friends, whom shall never be as awesome as me, decided to take me drinking for the night at this new pub that recently opened just a few days ago. Ever since word of the place came into my knowledge, I found that I had been dying to visit this joint to see how cool it really, truly was. Well, I guess I should give some insight about the place; the name of it is 'Captain's Choice' with one of the most intri

                Crackling near the edge of the camp, fires emitted twisted trails of smoke that faded into the morning sky. Noises ranging from screams to crying to gunshots, it was rather hard to tell where the direct location of the sounds were coming from. Clanking of the wooden spoon against the metal cauldron, the bubbling of mushy soup and the cutting of stale bread. Adorned in navy blue jackets with red facing, cuffs and collars maroon with a simple, white dress shirt underneath; the two white sashes, the tight white pants, the knee-high white socks placed in gray shoes. These were the outfits of the men around the small flames that pr