drabbyrose

Pathos

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hurt. by drabbyrose, literature

Literature

hurt.

The funny thing is, she honestly thought that someday she'd be somebody, so convinced that one day she'd matter. She suspected things had do get better. The first day of her sixteenth year, and she sits alone in a room full of foroggten memories. She cannot remember the people on the posters or why they're on her walls, she just knows they are. Sixteen years and she reads her life from sheets of paper and dusty photographs. Remember when you were seven, and Daddy bought you the puppy? She shakes her head. Mutters to herself. No, I don't. Remember your fourteenth birthday, you had a bowling party. Smiling faces. Balloons. Presents. There too

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She'll Die In Your Arms by drabbyrose, literature

Literature

She'll Die In Your Arms

See how she looks at you? Tears shattering, cascading down porcelain cheeks? Cracks of a broken surface showing beneath the powdered makeup that she applied for you, the makeup that she neither cares for nor likes to wear. To make you happy. Make sure your eyes don't drop to take in the ribbed scars on her pale arms, each mark telling a story locked behind those eyes, told only through this dent in her perfection. Now your hand moves to wipe the blackened tear from her cheek. She wilts away from your touch as though you mean to hurt her. Which you don't. Not this time. The bruise has healed now, you see? And she'll never mention it. Like it n

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Working Without a Net by triptychr, literature

Literature

Working Without a Net

I did what any of us would have done when learning that my Internet service had been shut down. I cried. Actually, that's not completely true. The first thing I did was frantically dial up the campus tech people, who told me the problem would be resolved in an hour. Anyone who has ever dealt with Electronic Device Repairpersons should already know that "an hour" in their language translates into "sometime between an hour and the rapture." So I waited an hour. Then I cried. How could I possibly function without instant access to news, entertainment, and all that other stuff that's just sort of there? What could I do in place of checking my

the tree - a cautionary tale by halley42, literature

Literature

the tree - a cautionary tale

ahhhhhhhhhh. time for tree decoration. the tree in question has about three tops and a circumference of about sixteen feet, courtesy of my father's amazing yearly ability to select the tree which was accidentally given three times more growth hormone than all the other ones in the garden centre. We move couches and take all the videos upstairs. Then i stand in the kitchen supporting the tree in an intimate and prickly embrace, and my father hacks off the top two feet of the poor thing with our one and only kitchen knife. once it is installed in our living room we get the boxes out of the cupboard over the upstairs water heater, where they

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Merciful Death by drabbyrose, visual art

Merciful Death

drabbyrose

About drabbyrose

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Artist

United Kingdom
Deviant for 19 years
lelio-rising.org
She / Her

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My Bio

Current Residence: England
Favourite genre of music: Rock, Grunge, Metal
Favourite style of art: Photomanipulations - dark
Operating System: Windows XP Professional
MP3 player of choice: Winamp
Shell of choice: Basic
Wallpaper of choice: None, currently, just reformatted
Personal Quote: If thats the worst thing that happens to me today, I can be grateful.

Favourite Movies

Interview with the Vampire

Favourite Bands / Musical Artists

Nirvana

Favourite Writers

Anne Rice

Favourite Games

Monopoly Tycoon, Rollercoaster Tycoon

Favourite Gaming Platform

PSOne, Nintendo 64, Gamecube

Tools of the Trade

Muffins. Lots of muffins.

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drabbyrose

Dec 11, 2004

chapter i, draft i

0 min read

In a small, white room, a girl sits cowered in the corner of the room, her fading black hair curling over her eyes down past her shoulders, white hands clenched around her knees, face turned red by the torrent of tears. She has been imprisoned here for three days now, allowed nothing to feed upon, nothing to do but wait. Her eyes are dilated and her skin stretched tight from hunger, lips drawn back over sharpened teeth. Her breath comes in short, shallow gasps; her heart beating slower and her body near comatose. For three days they have kept her here. She has yet to learn their names, she knows them only by observation of their appearance,

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drabbyrose

Aug 14, 2004

ohmyblurry

0 min read

Reformatted computer last night. Oops. Forgot that had saved everything on computer. Therefore, have nothing. Am going mad without Paint Shop Pro 7 (old school or what?). Need to reinstall. Where's that copy gone?