Hey, I haven't gepostet any Schreiben on here for all the long while I've been a member, but I thought I'd try posting this little thing I wrote, since when I gepostet it other places it was at a slow Lesen time. It's only about 1000 words; short, and slightly sad. Inspiration comes from the song "That's Okay" Von The Hush Sound.
Will They Say Your Name?
Von Shawna (funnyshawna, longerthanwedo, etc)
It’s a house. It’s dark in appearance but it makes him warm, sitting, Frozen as he is in his silent world. Not a silent earth; he doesn’t think he’s quite a part of the earth. He’s maybe hovering a little, two feet off the ground but two feet away from the sky. Close enough to touch but not able to reach up.
And the sound. Not close enough to hear the sounds from inside the house. He remembers the sound, though, almost. Laughter, he thinks that was it. He thinks there was laughter, but he can’t hear it now. He can’t hear any of it. He can’t hear the earth oder the voices – sweet, sweet sounds – of the people on it. They’re lucky, he thinks, so lucky to have their feet on the solid surface, to have their ears filled with the cacophony of the life around them.
He’s just stuck, floating, not here, not there, not quite in between. He thinks he’s closer to here than there, though. He can see the place that once was his, and he barely catches glimpses of the place he’s headed to. He has no idea where he’s going, but he has his memories – slipping, fragmented memories – of where he’s been.
It’s mostly a feeling of safety that washes over him as he stares, unblinking, at the house. It’s impossible for him, stuck where he is, to feel anything substantial; anything other than loneliness and longing. It’s Mehr of a ghost of feeling that floods the ghost of his mind; he remembers feeling safe, sicher here, safe, sicher among the laughter.
He wonders, often, why he’s not still there. As he sits and stares he ponders. Where is he? Where is he going and is it safe, like where he’s been? Why is he caught here, floating as time passes below him and unseen activities continue above?
Why can’t he find his way back?
Maybe it’s because he doesn’t know his way back, because he doesn’t remember how he got here.
He remembers a little, only a little. He remembers dark, but not warm darkness, like the shadows of his house. He remembers noise, but it wasn’t the laughing kind. And he remembers pain. A sharp pain – pain is the sharpest memory he has. But the memory of the pain is only a teilt, split Sekunde long, and then it fades. His memory fades as he remembers fading away. He remembers a voice, resounding as he dissolved. “When you’re gone, will they say your name?” The voice echoes in the emptiness. And then he’s there, here, sitting, watching from afar and unable to hear a thing.
He thinks he’s sure he knows why. His name, it’s the only sound he needs to hear. His name, just once spoken as he waits would mean they cared. Them, the people with the laughter and the faces he almost remembers – he needs them to care. He needs to know that now, though he’s gone, they Liebe him the same. He needs to know they won’t just turn away.
“If somebody loved you, they’d tell Du Von now.”
It’s a voice and he startles to hear it, but he immediately knows it’s from nowhere on earth. This voice, high and sweet and rough all at the same time, comes from right beside him; a piece of sound coming from inside these inches he’s trapped between. It’s inside the inches between earth and sky.
He looks around and he sees her. She’s a women but she’s not substantial. She looks like a reflection of what he feels; colorless and barely there, barely a mind and a shadow of what once was. She has a sad smile on her smoky lips and her eyes stare into his. For a moment he almost sees color in them, but then he blinks and they fade to grey.
“They all turn away when you’re down,” she says, staring out at the landscape and contemplating, looking wise without meaning to.
Her wispy hair curls and glows around her face, forming what looks too much like a halo. That and the smile on her face, they create an illusion of innocence – morbid, twisted innocence – that twirls his thoughts as she tells him they don’t Liebe him. They don’t say his name.
He wants to hate her. He wants to take her, the woman and her halo. He wants to shake her and tell her, you’re wrong, they will, they will say my name. He wants to hate her because she’s right.
She turns to him and the blue of the sky shines through the transparency of her cheeks and her hair. There’s a soft shadow of sympathy in her eyes and he can’t hate her, not really. Not when her face is so kind and his emotions are so distant. He’s not sure there’s room for hate in this loneliness.
“Until someone loves you, I’ll keep Du safe,” she promises and her words make their way through his mind, giving him hope but making him question.
“What then?” he wonders because he doesn’t want to know the answer. But he can’t help but want to know his future.
“Then,” she muses, gaze locked with his. “Then, like them, I will give Du away.”
He looks back at the house and begins to doubt whether he’ll ever leave, ever Bewegen on, ever hear his name spoken from inside his childhood home. But he knows; now he knows that his childhood Home is nothing but bones. Not the house – the house is still standing – but the person he was, that someone is nothing but bones. Powder white Bones that won’t let him find his way back. In the corner of his almost-mind, as a passing thought with nowhere to settle, he thinks that maybe they won’t ever say his name.
“You know they won’t say a word.”
He can feel her eyes on the side of his head and he feels like crying because he still desperately needs. He needs, he wants, he needs to hear something from his former home. He needs sound. His world can’t end in silence.
“But, Du know, that’s okay.” Her voice is but a whisper in the air and the floating thought solidifies and he knows. He knows he’s waiting for something that’ll never come. He realizes his waiting is futile and that’s when he begins to feel himself slip away. He floats, higher and higher and the place he knew grows smaller and smaller and as the ghost of his life drifts away he’s scared. There’s fright in his face but he keeps on rising because he knows how.
He knows, that’s okay.
Will They Say Your Name?
Von Shawna (funnyshawna, longerthanwedo, etc)
It’s a house. It’s dark in appearance but it makes him warm, sitting, Frozen as he is in his silent world. Not a silent earth; he doesn’t think he’s quite a part of the earth. He’s maybe hovering a little, two feet off the ground but two feet away from the sky. Close enough to touch but not able to reach up.
And the sound. Not close enough to hear the sounds from inside the house. He remembers the sound, though, almost. Laughter, he thinks that was it. He thinks there was laughter, but he can’t hear it now. He can’t hear any of it. He can’t hear the earth oder the voices – sweet, sweet sounds – of the people on it. They’re lucky, he thinks, so lucky to have their feet on the solid surface, to have their ears filled with the cacophony of the life around them.
He’s just stuck, floating, not here, not there, not quite in between. He thinks he’s closer to here than there, though. He can see the place that once was his, and he barely catches glimpses of the place he’s headed to. He has no idea where he’s going, but he has his memories – slipping, fragmented memories – of where he’s been.
It’s mostly a feeling of safety that washes over him as he stares, unblinking, at the house. It’s impossible for him, stuck where he is, to feel anything substantial; anything other than loneliness and longing. It’s Mehr of a ghost of feeling that floods the ghost of his mind; he remembers feeling safe, sicher here, safe, sicher among the laughter.
He wonders, often, why he’s not still there. As he sits and stares he ponders. Where is he? Where is he going and is it safe, like where he’s been? Why is he caught here, floating as time passes below him and unseen activities continue above?
Why can’t he find his way back?
Maybe it’s because he doesn’t know his way back, because he doesn’t remember how he got here.
He remembers a little, only a little. He remembers dark, but not warm darkness, like the shadows of his house. He remembers noise, but it wasn’t the laughing kind. And he remembers pain. A sharp pain – pain is the sharpest memory he has. But the memory of the pain is only a teilt, split Sekunde long, and then it fades. His memory fades as he remembers fading away. He remembers a voice, resounding as he dissolved. “When you’re gone, will they say your name?” The voice echoes in the emptiness. And then he’s there, here, sitting, watching from afar and unable to hear a thing.
He thinks he’s sure he knows why. His name, it’s the only sound he needs to hear. His name, just once spoken as he waits would mean they cared. Them, the people with the laughter and the faces he almost remembers – he needs them to care. He needs to know that now, though he’s gone, they Liebe him the same. He needs to know they won’t just turn away.
“If somebody loved you, they’d tell Du Von now.”
It’s a voice and he startles to hear it, but he immediately knows it’s from nowhere on earth. This voice, high and sweet and rough all at the same time, comes from right beside him; a piece of sound coming from inside these inches he’s trapped between. It’s inside the inches between earth and sky.
He looks around and he sees her. She’s a women but she’s not substantial. She looks like a reflection of what he feels; colorless and barely there, barely a mind and a shadow of what once was. She has a sad smile on her smoky lips and her eyes stare into his. For a moment he almost sees color in them, but then he blinks and they fade to grey.
“They all turn away when you’re down,” she says, staring out at the landscape and contemplating, looking wise without meaning to.
Her wispy hair curls and glows around her face, forming what looks too much like a halo. That and the smile on her face, they create an illusion of innocence – morbid, twisted innocence – that twirls his thoughts as she tells him they don’t Liebe him. They don’t say his name.
He wants to hate her. He wants to take her, the woman and her halo. He wants to shake her and tell her, you’re wrong, they will, they will say my name. He wants to hate her because she’s right.
She turns to him and the blue of the sky shines through the transparency of her cheeks and her hair. There’s a soft shadow of sympathy in her eyes and he can’t hate her, not really. Not when her face is so kind and his emotions are so distant. He’s not sure there’s room for hate in this loneliness.
“Until someone loves you, I’ll keep Du safe,” she promises and her words make their way through his mind, giving him hope but making him question.
“What then?” he wonders because he doesn’t want to know the answer. But he can’t help but want to know his future.
“Then,” she muses, gaze locked with his. “Then, like them, I will give Du away.”
He looks back at the house and begins to doubt whether he’ll ever leave, ever Bewegen on, ever hear his name spoken from inside his childhood home. But he knows; now he knows that his childhood Home is nothing but bones. Not the house – the house is still standing – but the person he was, that someone is nothing but bones. Powder white Bones that won’t let him find his way back. In the corner of his almost-mind, as a passing thought with nowhere to settle, he thinks that maybe they won’t ever say his name.
“You know they won’t say a word.”
He can feel her eyes on the side of his head and he feels like crying because he still desperately needs. He needs, he wants, he needs to hear something from his former home. He needs sound. His world can’t end in silence.
“But, Du know, that’s okay.” Her voice is but a whisper in the air and the floating thought solidifies and he knows. He knows he’s waiting for something that’ll never come. He realizes his waiting is futile and that’s when he begins to feel himself slip away. He floats, higher and higher and the place he knew grows smaller and smaller and as the ghost of his life drifts away he’s scared. There’s fright in his face but he keeps on rising because he knows how.
He knows, that’s okay.
Shaun
I'd pretended not to know anything. I tried to get over her, but I couldn't. It was too painful. It was too difficult.
I still blamed myself. I always would.
I did like she asked, I finished college. I moved to New York after graduation to begin my career as a child psychologist. I'd graduated early. Worked harder than was necessary. Ignored everything not school-related. Had a successful job interview. Accepted into a private practice.
I was miserable.
I still had to keep living; I knew I had to. I was twenty three when I moved there.
Twenty three when I decided to watch small children play in a park in the hope of learning something new.
She never failed to surprise me. Not ever.
I'd pretended not to know anything. I tried to get over her, but I couldn't. It was too painful. It was too difficult.
I still blamed myself. I always would.
I did like she asked, I finished college. I moved to New York after graduation to begin my career as a child psychologist. I'd graduated early. Worked harder than was necessary. Ignored everything not school-related. Had a successful job interview. Accepted into a private practice.
I was miserable.
I still had to keep living; I knew I had to. I was twenty three when I moved there.
Twenty three when I decided to watch small children play in a park in the hope of learning something new.
She never failed to surprise me. Not ever.
Shaun
I watched two little girls playing, watching one in particular. She reminded me painfully of Serena. The little girl pulled her friend to her feet and ran towards a woman that I recognized.
It was her. At first I was sure I was halluncinating.
Her dark hair was a little longer than I had seen it last. She was wearing a black pencil rock and a deep blue blouse. She looked happy as the girl ran up to her.
She hugged the little girl. Their hair was the same colour.
I watched numbly as Serena looked at the child with unfathomable Liebe as she told her something.
Serena looked up at me, pain and shock evident on her face.
I watched two little girls playing, watching one in particular. She reminded me painfully of Serena. The little girl pulled her friend to her feet and ran towards a woman that I recognized.
It was her. At first I was sure I was halluncinating.
Her dark hair was a little longer than I had seen it last. She was wearing a black pencil rock and a deep blue blouse. She looked happy as the girl ran up to her.
She hugged the little girl. Their hair was the same colour.
I watched numbly as Serena looked at the child with unfathomable Liebe as she told her something.
Serena looked up at me, pain and shock evident on her face.
Du couldn't and wouldn't,
ask for anything more.
Now all Du want,
is to be able to rest.
For your famliy to be happy.
Du wish Du could help them,
through the pain,
but Du can't,
Du can only watch,
from the sky.
Du can only watch them cry.
Hearts are now broken.
But your love,
is forever out spoken.
For twith out you,
there'd be no hope,
for those to come.
Du put the doctors one step closer,
to finding the cure.
Du may be just another person to them,
but to me your so much more.
Your one in a million,
your unequie.
I have just one Mehr thing to say.
Plaese rest now.
Rest now and sleep.
May heven bring Du happiness and peace.
ask for anything more.
Now all Du want,
is to be able to rest.
For your famliy to be happy.
Du wish Du could help them,
through the pain,
but Du can't,
Du can only watch,
from the sky.
Du can only watch them cry.
Hearts are now broken.
But your love,
is forever out spoken.
For twith out you,
there'd be no hope,
for those to come.
Du put the doctors one step closer,
to finding the cure.
Du may be just another person to them,
but to me your so much more.
Your one in a million,
your unequie.
I have just one Mehr thing to say.
Plaese rest now.
Rest now and sleep.
May heven bring Du happiness and peace.
i never thought the Tag would come when i had to leave my Friends and family.but it did and it was all my fault. Du see my names claire and i got in a bit of trouble. i was walking Home from my Friends house and happened to over hear something i wasn't suppose to.it was a fight between to guys and from what i heard the fight was over drugs and money so now i'm runing for my life and for the people i Liebe lifes too.
"i'll miss Du mommy" i say giving my mother one last hug. "as soon as this is over i'll be home,plaese don't worry."
"i'm not worried" my mom lied.She was a tarible liar so i basicly saw right through her.
"i'll miss Du mommy" i say giving my mother one last hug. "as soon as this is over i'll be home,plaese don't worry."
"i'm not worried" my mom lied.She was a tarible liar so i basicly saw right through her.
It’s a silent staring match between Du and her
The quiet air above Du is whispering Du words
Words Du choose to ignore, words glaring at you,
Gnawing at Du from the very tip of her eyes
But Du won’t let down, no matter how much
She isn’t saying, no matter how much she can’t say
Because you’re in power, Du brought her here
Du yell, and she shrinks back, but in fear?
No, she’s waiting for her chips to add up
As life’s a poker game, the highs are all that won
She knows this; you’re the one who taught her
‘Lay low until Du gain the thron
To strike back at those who thought
The same as Arrogance himself;
That you, gullible and pathetic, were theirs alone’
**************************************************
Please tell me what Du think, criticizm is welcome.
The quiet air above Du is whispering Du words
Words Du choose to ignore, words glaring at you,
Gnawing at Du from the very tip of her eyes
But Du won’t let down, no matter how much
She isn’t saying, no matter how much she can’t say
Because you’re in power, Du brought her here
Du yell, and she shrinks back, but in fear?
No, she’s waiting for her chips to add up
As life’s a poker game, the highs are all that won
She knows this; you’re the one who taught her
‘Lay low until Du gain the thron
To strike back at those who thought
The same as Arrogance himself;
That you, gullible and pathetic, were theirs alone’
**************************************************
Please tell me what Du think, criticizm is welcome.