1am // The tiny village I call home where nothing ever happens has long drifted into sleep. Silence surrounds everything around me, but inside my head it's unusually loud; filled with the voices of people who thought that their stories would forever remain unheard.
I don't know how I came across them but at some point I found myself going through the lost and forgotten corner of the web - blogs people had written in 2001, ...3, ..11. They barely include one or two posts; all directed at people they had never had the courage to tell the things that are now left untold. Strange thinking that I was a child then; completely unaware of everything people experienced around me.
What I did is easy to explain: I visited all websites that followed the structure of dearrandomname.blogspot.com. It'd be a lie if I said I was in any way prepared for what was about to come. Without knowing what was happening, I found myself in the middle of the night listening to people and their stori…
Prompt: What is your favourite word? Write a scene around that word.
Sophia had been building a rocket in her backyard for more than three months now. And tonight would be the night where she finally finished her masterpiece - she had checked and double-checked if all the safety measures were in place and if she had taken enough of her favourite chocolate with her. Just looking at her work made her giggle like a maniac so she lay down on the grass to calm down again. Above her head the stars shone in all their beauty. Sophia reached her hands out into the night, longing for the stars but never getting there. »Tonight,« a voice inside of her whispered. »Tonight, tonight.«
Before getting inside her rocket, Sophia stood up and had one last look around. The old treehouse her father had built when she had been a child, the never-ending fields in the back, their neighbour's car in which she had puked when she had been nine years old. Sophia had always thought this would be harder, but i…
Everybody has one person they will never be able to forget. My person comes in a blue-green ocean. And I'm drowning in this ocean.
At night I drown in the memories, unable to sleep as I am dragged to the bottom of the ocean.
I fall deeper and deeper into the blue-green water, letting it take me, fill my mouth, lungs, mind. And I will die in this ocean, die at its bottom without air to breathe - hoping that perhaps in death I will be free from you. Free from the chains you have put on my mind, never letting my thoughts get out of the cage that is you - thoughts about you, dreams about you, tears for you. Everything is just you, you, you. There's no room for anything else.
I WISH I COULD STOP THINKING ABOUT YOU, I WISH I COULD STOP THINKING ABOUT YOU, I WISH I COULD STOP THINKING ABOUT YOU, BUT IT ALL COMES DOWN, DOWN, DOWN ON ME.
Will you always be there in every sad song, in every painting, in every stranger's face I pass on the street, in the sunshine and in the moon'…