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- dhritithescratcher
-
Scratcher
100+ posts
dhriti's swc writing :)
table of contents!
(11/1/2021) “if annette was mean–daily”
(11/1/2021) “to caramel–daily”
(11/3/2021) “dhriti's unsatisfying weekly–weekly”
(11/4/2021) “psycho, not psychic–daily”
(11/5/2021) “to escape, another must enter–daily”
(11/5/2021) “payment–thing to get closer to word goal”
(11/6/2021) “disappointing–thing to get closer to word goal”
(11/6/2021) “there are no rules ( persuasive monologue)–thing to get closer to word goal”
(11/6/2021) “boring sob story i made in five mins–word war proof”
(11/7/2021) “yup, another boring sob story–word war proof”
(11/7/2021) “praise for elfie–word war proof”
(11/8/2021) “the tree that fell–word war proof”
(11/9/2021) “first part of weekly–first part of weekly”
(11/9/2021) “behold the tea–word war proof”
(11/10/2021) “bad day–rant”
(11/12/2021) “witchy witch witch–word war proof”
(11/13/2021) “final heir–random thing”
(11/13/2021) “a measly 124 words for a war–a measly 124 words for a war”
(11/13/2021) “part two of witchy witch witch–word war proof”
(11/14/2021) “of death and life–essay”
(11/14/2021) “king's insecurities–word war proof”
(11/20/2021) “guess who–monologue again folks”
(11/22/2021) “down with elfie and tyranny–hopefully humorous poem”
(11/23/2021) “emotion. – boring sappy prose”
(11/23/2021) “emotion no. 2–boring sappy poetry”
(11/27/2021) “i'm scared–cabin war proof”
(11/30/2021) “a dead man's will–the last swc piece of november”
(11/1/2021) “if annette was mean–daily”
(11/1/2021) “to caramel–daily”
(11/3/2021) “dhriti's unsatisfying weekly–weekly”
(11/4/2021) “psycho, not psychic–daily”
(11/5/2021) “to escape, another must enter–daily”
(11/5/2021) “payment–thing to get closer to word goal”
(11/6/2021) “disappointing–thing to get closer to word goal”
(11/6/2021) “there are no rules ( persuasive monologue)–thing to get closer to word goal”
(11/6/2021) “boring sob story i made in five mins–word war proof”
(11/7/2021) “yup, another boring sob story–word war proof”
(11/7/2021) “praise for elfie–word war proof”
(11/8/2021) “the tree that fell–word war proof”
(11/9/2021) “first part of weekly–first part of weekly”
(11/9/2021) “behold the tea–word war proof”
(11/10/2021) “bad day–rant”
(11/12/2021) “witchy witch witch–word war proof”
(11/13/2021) “final heir–random thing”
(11/13/2021) “a measly 124 words for a war–a measly 124 words for a war”
(11/13/2021) “part two of witchy witch witch–word war proof”
(11/14/2021) “of death and life–essay”
(11/14/2021) “king's insecurities–word war proof”
(11/20/2021) “guess who–monologue again folks”
(11/22/2021) “down with elfie and tyranny–hopefully humorous poem”
(11/23/2021) “emotion. – boring sappy prose”
(11/23/2021) “emotion no. 2–boring sappy poetry”
(11/27/2021) “i'm scared–cabin war proof”
(11/30/2021) “a dead man's will–the last swc piece of november”
Last edited by dhritithescratcher (Dec. 1, 2021 01:24:55)
- dhritithescratcher
-
Scratcher
100+ posts
dhriti's swc writing :)
product of an old collaboration with @elvin_wonders! the writing is entirely my own, although the world-building and plot were done together.
this is a reference to marie antoinette and her fictional sister
she, my sister, steps up onto the platform. this will be my last memory of her. her lips, once laughing merrily, are curving downwards. her once-sparkling blue eyes have dulled, illuminated only by the glassy tears spilling over her eyelids. they catch mine. for the last time.
perhaps…i was wrong. perhaps i shouldn’t have done what i did. perhaps i should’ve stepped back. shouldn’t have interfered. but of course–it’s too late now.
the brute raises his ax. about to chop off marie’s most prized possession. her precious snow locks. and i can’t. not anymore. i scream for him to stop.
everyone turns around and glares as i retract into my seat. there’s no going back now. i rise.
“ marie is innocent.”
marie turns around and gawps at me like i have monkeys dancing on my face.
“ that’s right. marie’s innocent. i’m guilty for spending france’s money and pushing us to the brink of bankruptcy.”
the crowd rises in cries of outrage. rotten vegetables meant for my sister are thrown at me. i don’t care. not as they push me towards the stage. not as my dress is ruined.
marie clasps my hand.
“ you didn’t have to do that.”
“ it was the right thing.”
the executioner drags marie away. she steps on his foot. a quiet “ pardon me, sir,” follows. her head bent to the guillotine. a strike of a blade. blood flowing. marie…dead.
paralysis. shock. before the sobs take over. i don’t care anymore. i care nothing.
i do not care that i’m about to die. i do not care that i lied. all i care is marie–
this is a reference to marie antoinette and her fictional sister
she, my sister, steps up onto the platform. this will be my last memory of her. her lips, once laughing merrily, are curving downwards. her once-sparkling blue eyes have dulled, illuminated only by the glassy tears spilling over her eyelids. they catch mine. for the last time.
perhaps…i was wrong. perhaps i shouldn’t have done what i did. perhaps i should’ve stepped back. shouldn’t have interfered. but of course–it’s too late now.
the brute raises his ax. about to chop off marie’s most prized possession. her precious snow locks. and i can’t. not anymore. i scream for him to stop.
everyone turns around and glares as i retract into my seat. there’s no going back now. i rise.
“ marie is innocent.”
marie turns around and gawps at me like i have monkeys dancing on my face.
“ that’s right. marie’s innocent. i’m guilty for spending france’s money and pushing us to the brink of bankruptcy.”
the crowd rises in cries of outrage. rotten vegetables meant for my sister are thrown at me. i don’t care. not as they push me towards the stage. not as my dress is ruined.
marie clasps my hand.
“ you didn’t have to do that.”
“ it was the right thing.”
the executioner drags marie away. she steps on his foot. a quiet “ pardon me, sir,” follows. her head bent to the guillotine. a strike of a blade. blood flowing. marie…dead.
paralysis. shock. before the sobs take over. i don’t care anymore. i care nothing.
i do not care that i’m about to die. i do not care that i lied. all i care is marie–
Last edited by dhritithescratcher (Nov. 1, 2021 23:40:11)
- dhritithescratcher
-
Scratcher
100+ posts
dhriti's swc writing :)
the dessert. not @caramelize.
“O, O most beloved of desserts, O most sweet–
O chewy caramel, how I long for thou sweet taste! I love you so, to chew, to swallow! To marvel at thy beauty! Art thou a sorceress? For thy magic–it enchants one, it captivates one! One is addicted to thy taste, thy texture, thy everything! One has composed a poem to melt thy sweet almond heart!
Okay, that’s it. I’m sorry. I lost it. The creative juices. But mostly the poem.
I really, really should’ve memorized it.
Anyway, the point is, caramel: you’re awesome. Great. Fantastic. Take your pick.
The problem is, though, I’d like to eat you.
Preferably as soon as possible.
So, would you like to join me in a meeting located in my mouth? Please RSVP.
I mean it. RSVP.
Like, now.
Right this moment, please.
I flattered you, didn’t I? DIDN’T I?
I did. So.
Enough of the hinting, I’ll say it: MEET ME IN MY MOUTH.
Oh. Yeah. You can’t walk, so…
um…
Yeah, I’m afraid I’m going to have to eat you, Caramel.
It was nice knowing you.
But first.
I need your consent.
So if you could just, um, sign this contract here…
What? You can’t?
I find that hard to believe.
You’re a perfectly capable human being–sorry, caramel–and I believe in you.
In other words–
YOU MUST DO THIS.
It’s not a question.
I can be incredibly bossy when I want to be.
Okay.
You’re asking for it.
*bossy voice*
PLEASE DO THIS.
What? You asked if that’s all I’ve got?
You’re dead!
Seriously, you are!
I’m going to chew you!
And you’re going to hate it!
Nice knowing you.
Goodbye, Caramel. I did what I could.
From Nick.
Sorry, Elise.
No, no, June.
Wait, I’ve got it. Really, this time.
Kind Regards,
Emma."
“O, O most beloved of desserts, O most sweet–
O chewy caramel, how I long for thou sweet taste! I love you so, to chew, to swallow! To marvel at thy beauty! Art thou a sorceress? For thy magic–it enchants one, it captivates one! One is addicted to thy taste, thy texture, thy everything! One has composed a poem to melt thy sweet almond heart!
Okay, that’s it. I’m sorry. I lost it. The creative juices. But mostly the poem.
I really, really should’ve memorized it.
Anyway, the point is, caramel: you’re awesome. Great. Fantastic. Take your pick.
The problem is, though, I’d like to eat you.
Preferably as soon as possible.
So, would you like to join me in a meeting located in my mouth? Please RSVP.
I mean it. RSVP.
Like, now.
Right this moment, please.
I flattered you, didn’t I? DIDN’T I?
I did. So.
Enough of the hinting, I’ll say it: MEET ME IN MY MOUTH.
Oh. Yeah. You can’t walk, so…
um…
Yeah, I’m afraid I’m going to have to eat you, Caramel.
It was nice knowing you.
But first.
I need your consent.
So if you could just, um, sign this contract here…
What? You can’t?
I find that hard to believe.
You’re a perfectly capable human being–sorry, caramel–and I believe in you.
In other words–
YOU MUST DO THIS.
It’s not a question.
I can be incredibly bossy when I want to be.
Okay.
You’re asking for it.
*bossy voice*
PLEASE DO THIS.
What? You asked if that’s all I’ve got?
You’re dead!
Seriously, you are!
I’m going to chew you!
And you’re going to hate it!
Nice knowing you.
Goodbye, Caramel. I did what I could.
From Nick.
Sorry, Elise.
No, no, June.
Wait, I’ve got it. Really, this time.
Kind Regards,
Emma."
- dhritithescratcher
-
Scratcher
100+ posts
dhriti's swc writing :)
dhriti's incredibly unsatisfying weekly that's incredibly low quality below. what happens when you refuse to edit your work/refuse to delete anything you've written because it's “natural” when really it's an excuse for writing trash.
please, elle! this is not my usual way, i swear–do not m!rder me!
part one
character a: Jane. Incredibly argumentative, frequently engages in fights with husband (below) and has a temper. Kind-hearted, though. Speaks in short, quick bursts and uses insults often.
character b: John. Timid and shy, a bit of a coward. Mild-mannered. Speaks rather quietly, and always addresses wife as “honey,” “darling,” or another title of love. John is British, as is his wife.
“That’s it, John, that’s it! You’re absolutely stupid!”
“Honey, I only meant–”
“I don’t care what you meant, we’re not doing a joint account, moron!”
“Darling, would you listen for a moment, please–”
“No, I won’t! We’re not doing a joint account, I’m managing the finances, final! Conversation closed!”
“Dear, that’s not how it–”
“Works? No, this is my house, that I bought with my very own money, in case you don’t remember, and I'm perfectly fine to manage it on my own! As far as I'm concerned, you're a squatter!“
”We chose each other, Janie-pie–“
”Oh, yeah?“
”Yes, Jan, if you'll only–“
”I don't think I will, you arrogant coward! No, I've had enough of you and your idiotic ideas!“
”Jane, love, a joint account would–“
”Would what, exactly, John? Would what? Have some sort of magic that would get us out of this run-down piece of mud! I darn well don't think so!“
”It would enable us to–“
”Don't whisper, idiot, are you in a funeral? Oh, I bet you think you are, you madhouse–you ought to be sent to a mental asylum, you ought, I tell you!“
”Okay, but–“
”SPEAK UP!“
”Janie, dear, I think we should both calm down–“
”I'm perfectly calm, you're the one that's not, why don't you be the one who. calms down, eh? I'd like to see that! Bet you won't, will you, such a hypocrite–“
part two
jane's motivation–getting her husband to be ”smart.“
john's motivation–getting his wife to ”understand“ him.
elise will be jane's best friend.
”Elise, I honestly don't know what is wrong with him–“
”Relax, it'll figure itself out, Jane, c'mon–“
”Obviously, it won't!“
”You've been married for eight years, you think this is going to change that?“
”Yes! Yes I do!“
”It's just a joint account, Jane, he'll see your side–“
”And how can you know that?“
”Every argument you've goddarn had, you've figured it out, what makes you think that you won't for this one?“
”I don't know, I just do!“
Elise sighs.
”Take a chill pill, Jane, if it doesn't figure itself out by tomorrow, midnight, I'll help you, okay?“
”But–“
”No buts.“
”However–“
”Seriously? No howevers.“
”Be that as it may, I–“
”I mean it, Jane.“
”You have to help me.“
”And I will, if it's not figured out by tomorrow midnight.“
”It won't be!“
”Then we'll see to that when it doesn't.“
”Elise, come on, don't you see my side of the story?“
”I do, but I want to let you solve this.“
”That's just silly–You'd know if you were married.“
”I don't have to be married to know what you're feeling. I majored in psychology, and my sister's a therapist.“
”I don't goddarn care if you majored in psycho people or if your sister's a therapist!“
”Sit down.“
”Why should I–“
”Sit down.“
”Fine!“
”Thank you.“
”You're certainly not welcome.“
”Take a breath.“
”What do you think I'm doing, trying to die?“
”A deep breath.“
”Thanks, but no thanks.“
”Do you want me to help you or not, Jane?“
”Fine, jeez.“
”Good.“
”Terrible, if you ask me, but okay.“
”Jane, I'm trying to help, if you haven't noticed, and I don't have infinite patience, if that's not clear!“
”Obviously it is.“
”Then act like it!“
”Who are you, the bossy new teacher?“
”Who are you, the sassy new kid?“
”That'd be better than being you!“
”That's it. Look at us. Grown women, grown goddarn adults, and we're fighting like wild animals!“
”Hmf. At least I'm only the pig. You're the boar.“
”Excuse you? That's rude.“
”I take inspiration from you.“
”Jane Josie-Jo Doe, you stop right this instant or–“
”Okay, jeez, fine, you're like my mum!“
”I have to be,“ came the mumble.
”Oh, yeah? Well, I have to be the rude kid.“
”That's hurtful."
and for the first time in her life, jane apologised.
part three
guy wholikes villainy (super subtle, i know): the therapist. had a bad marriage himself and wants revenge. inflicts divorces on others.
part four
“Hello, I’m Guy, your new therapist. Pleasure to meet you, John and…Jane?”
“Yeah.”
“How long have you been married?”
“Sixteen years.” John exaggerated.
“Eight,” corrected Jane.
“That’s very impressive, Mr. and Mrs. Doe.”
“I’d like to be called Jane, if you please?”
“Of course, my sincere apologies. John, if I could see you for just a moment?”
John nodded and followed his new therapist, Guy Wholikes Villainy to the next room.
Guy closed it.
And smiled his strangely unsettling smile.
With his fake teeth.
And his really black eyes.
And his kinda over-slicked hair.
“Do you like my wife?”
“I, um, haven’t met her, sorry–”
The really black eyes glared.
“That’s so not the right answer.”
“I’m sorry!”
“I’m very mad.”
“Really very sorry, sir–”
“I need revenge.”
“Anything, I promise!”
Very foolish of John.
Benefited Guy Wholikes Villainy, though.
Very much so.
Like, it’ll-help-him-reach-his-really-very-villainous-goal very much so.
You get it, right?
I’m hoping so.
I’m not the greatest narrator.
I’ve gotta apologize.
Anyway.
Sorry, anyhow, that sounds so much better:
Anyhow. Guy replied.
Sorry, sorry, responded. Sounds better, again.
So Guy responded, yes?
Here’s what he said.
“Hm, how about a divorce?”
very evilly.
So, so, evilly.
Like send-a-shiver-down-your-bones evilly.
Except more evil.
Y’know?
Please, you have to.
I don’t want to narrate, you see.
I was forced to.
By the evil Guy.
Just kidding.
I was forced to, though.
Only by myself.
Trust me, I’m very evil!
Really evil!
So then John said that he couldn’t do that.
Like, really desperately.
Like he was helpless.
Which he kinda was.
No offense, John.
And then the other person, Gus–
sorry, no, Guy–
wait, no it’s Gus–
Hang on, I’m going to ask the bloke.
Yeah, it’s Guy.
Kinda stupid name, if you ask me.
No offense, Guy.
Don’t kill me.
I have a wife and kids!
Ten!
Fine, nine.
But yeah, you get it.
Wait, I rhymed!
I should get into poetry someday.
What was I saying?
Oh, yeah.
Guy said that John said anything, and then John said something back.
I forget what it was?
Oh!
John said that he liked his wife very much.
No offense, Jane, but I don’t.
She’s kinda rude?
And she has a temper.
Also I, um–
Okay. I’ll say it.
Three.
Two.
One.
I hate her.
But I’m Elise, Jane’s best friend, so–
So I’m not supposed to be saying this stuff.
So, the other guy, Guy, said that was too bad and if he could divorce his wife then so could John. And John sobbed.
But also agreed.
I think he shouldn’t have sobbed.
But yeah.
Wait.
Hold up.
If he agreed…
That means I’m in huge trouble with Jane.
I’ll explain later.
But man, oh man, I’m in trouble!
Huge, huge trouble.
Boy, I should’ve listened to Mommy and not interfered–
But I suppose I’ve got to tell the story. John was pushed out the office and Jane came in.
Very grumpily.
So she asked if Guy could hurry up and say whatever it was he wanted to say and quit wasting her time.
And Guy harrumphed but said that yes he could.
And then he said that John and Jane were going to get a divorce.
But Jane didn’t cry.
She just kinda frowned a little and asked how much money it would cost.
Guy said he didn’t know, and then Jane stormed out.
Very huffily.
And then she came back in and slapped the check on the table and then stormed out again.
A lot more huffily.
It was fun to watch.
Really dramatic, and stuff.
I actually really enjoyed watching it.
Except when I remembered that I was in hot water with Jane.
But then I remembered that I didn’t like Jane anyway.
So then I smiled.
A lot.
And then I smiled a little more.
And then I smiled a lot more.
And I sang.
Loud enough that Jane heard me.
And then I was chased down the block with accusations of snooping.
It wasn’t that fun.
So now I guess I have to describe the divorce and stuff.
John and Jane kissed each other and John apologized and Jane said she wasn’t sorry.
And then Jane clapped and said that she would now get half of John’s money without doing anything.
And John sobbed because of that ‘cause he’s a real cry-baby.
But Jane smiled a lot and asked the judge to change her name to Jane Awesome and a lot of other stuff like that.
And the judge said that she had to ask someone else ‘cause she didn’t know.
And Jane got furious, but then she remembered the divorce and smiled. Again.
And then they signed a bunch of contracts, and refused to dance with each other and a bunch of other stuff.
Kinda–well, very, very boring. All this happened, like…
how long ago?
I think an hour ago?
No, it can’t be–
An hour and a half…
Nope, it’s an hour.
So, anyway, right now they’re sitting down in chairs and sobbing.
Happily, though.
Like, really, really happily.
As if this is the greatest thing that ever happened to them in their whole entire forty-five-year-long lives.
Trust me, I was there at their wedding when they went all mushy, and they were not this happy.
They just smiled a bunch and held hands.
John was sweating a bunch.
And Jane was eating cake a bunch.
I like cake.
I’m proud to say I ate two-thirds of the wedding cake.
And it was big.
Like sky-scraper big.
It was chocolate cake, like from Roald Dahl’s book something with Bruce in it.
I got it all over my face.
But sooo worth it.
It tasted epic.
I wish I hadn’t eaten the plastic wrapping, though.
Bit of indigestion, if you know what I mean.
But I loved it, like so much–
I think I’ve got an addiction on my hands.
A really big one.
But who cares, really, I think?
please, elle! this is not my usual way, i swear–do not m!rder me!
part one
character a: Jane. Incredibly argumentative, frequently engages in fights with husband (below) and has a temper. Kind-hearted, though. Speaks in short, quick bursts and uses insults often.
character b: John. Timid and shy, a bit of a coward. Mild-mannered. Speaks rather quietly, and always addresses wife as “honey,” “darling,” or another title of love. John is British, as is his wife.
“That’s it, John, that’s it! You’re absolutely stupid!”
“Honey, I only meant–”
“I don’t care what you meant, we’re not doing a joint account, moron!”
“Darling, would you listen for a moment, please–”
“No, I won’t! We’re not doing a joint account, I’m managing the finances, final! Conversation closed!”
“Dear, that’s not how it–”
“Works? No, this is my house, that I bought with my very own money, in case you don’t remember, and I'm perfectly fine to manage it on my own! As far as I'm concerned, you're a squatter!“
”We chose each other, Janie-pie–“
”Oh, yeah?“
”Yes, Jan, if you'll only–“
”I don't think I will, you arrogant coward! No, I've had enough of you and your idiotic ideas!“
”Jane, love, a joint account would–“
”Would what, exactly, John? Would what? Have some sort of magic that would get us out of this run-down piece of mud! I darn well don't think so!“
”It would enable us to–“
”Don't whisper, idiot, are you in a funeral? Oh, I bet you think you are, you madhouse–you ought to be sent to a mental asylum, you ought, I tell you!“
”Okay, but–“
”SPEAK UP!“
”Janie, dear, I think we should both calm down–“
”I'm perfectly calm, you're the one that's not, why don't you be the one who. calms down, eh? I'd like to see that! Bet you won't, will you, such a hypocrite–“
part two
jane's motivation–getting her husband to be ”smart.“
john's motivation–getting his wife to ”understand“ him.
elise will be jane's best friend.
”Elise, I honestly don't know what is wrong with him–“
”Relax, it'll figure itself out, Jane, c'mon–“
”Obviously, it won't!“
”You've been married for eight years, you think this is going to change that?“
”Yes! Yes I do!“
”It's just a joint account, Jane, he'll see your side–“
”And how can you know that?“
”Every argument you've goddarn had, you've figured it out, what makes you think that you won't for this one?“
”I don't know, I just do!“
Elise sighs.
”Take a chill pill, Jane, if it doesn't figure itself out by tomorrow, midnight, I'll help you, okay?“
”But–“
”No buts.“
”However–“
”Seriously? No howevers.“
”Be that as it may, I–“
”I mean it, Jane.“
”You have to help me.“
”And I will, if it's not figured out by tomorrow midnight.“
”It won't be!“
”Then we'll see to that when it doesn't.“
”Elise, come on, don't you see my side of the story?“
”I do, but I want to let you solve this.“
”That's just silly–You'd know if you were married.“
”I don't have to be married to know what you're feeling. I majored in psychology, and my sister's a therapist.“
”I don't goddarn care if you majored in psycho people or if your sister's a therapist!“
”Sit down.“
”Why should I–“
”Sit down.“
”Fine!“
”Thank you.“
”You're certainly not welcome.“
”Take a breath.“
”What do you think I'm doing, trying to die?“
”A deep breath.“
”Thanks, but no thanks.“
”Do you want me to help you or not, Jane?“
”Fine, jeez.“
”Good.“
”Terrible, if you ask me, but okay.“
”Jane, I'm trying to help, if you haven't noticed, and I don't have infinite patience, if that's not clear!“
”Obviously it is.“
”Then act like it!“
”Who are you, the bossy new teacher?“
”Who are you, the sassy new kid?“
”That'd be better than being you!“
”That's it. Look at us. Grown women, grown goddarn adults, and we're fighting like wild animals!“
”Hmf. At least I'm only the pig. You're the boar.“
”Excuse you? That's rude.“
”I take inspiration from you.“
”Jane Josie-Jo Doe, you stop right this instant or–“
”Okay, jeez, fine, you're like my mum!“
”I have to be,“ came the mumble.
”Oh, yeah? Well, I have to be the rude kid.“
”That's hurtful."
and for the first time in her life, jane apologised.
part three
guy wholikes villainy (super subtle, i know): the therapist. had a bad marriage himself and wants revenge. inflicts divorces on others.
part four
“Hello, I’m Guy, your new therapist. Pleasure to meet you, John and…Jane?”
“Yeah.”
“How long have you been married?”
“Sixteen years.” John exaggerated.
“Eight,” corrected Jane.
“That’s very impressive, Mr. and Mrs. Doe.”
“I’d like to be called Jane, if you please?”
“Of course, my sincere apologies. John, if I could see you for just a moment?”
John nodded and followed his new therapist, Guy Wholikes Villainy to the next room.
Guy closed it.
And smiled his strangely unsettling smile.
With his fake teeth.
And his really black eyes.
And his kinda over-slicked hair.
“Do you like my wife?”
“I, um, haven’t met her, sorry–”
The really black eyes glared.
“That’s so not the right answer.”
“I’m sorry!”
“I’m very mad.”
“Really very sorry, sir–”
“I need revenge.”
“Anything, I promise!”
Very foolish of John.
Benefited Guy Wholikes Villainy, though.
Very much so.
Like, it’ll-help-him-reach-his-really-very-villainous-goal very much so.
You get it, right?
I’m hoping so.
I’m not the greatest narrator.
I’ve gotta apologize.
Anyway.
Sorry, anyhow, that sounds so much better:
Anyhow. Guy replied.
Sorry, sorry, responded. Sounds better, again.
So Guy responded, yes?
Here’s what he said.
“Hm, how about a divorce?”
very evilly.
So, so, evilly.
Like send-a-shiver-down-your-bones evilly.
Except more evil.
Y’know?
Please, you have to.
I don’t want to narrate, you see.
I was forced to.
By the evil Guy.
Just kidding.
I was forced to, though.
Only by myself.
Trust me, I’m very evil!
Really evil!
So then John said that he couldn’t do that.
Like, really desperately.
Like he was helpless.
Which he kinda was.
No offense, John.
And then the other person, Gus–
sorry, no, Guy–
wait, no it’s Gus–
Hang on, I’m going to ask the bloke.
Yeah, it’s Guy.
Kinda stupid name, if you ask me.
No offense, Guy.
Don’t kill me.
I have a wife and kids!
Ten!
Fine, nine.
But yeah, you get it.
Wait, I rhymed!
I should get into poetry someday.
What was I saying?
Oh, yeah.
Guy said that John said anything, and then John said something back.
I forget what it was?
Oh!
John said that he liked his wife very much.
No offense, Jane, but I don’t.
She’s kinda rude?
And she has a temper.
Also I, um–
Okay. I’ll say it.
Three.
Two.
One.
I hate her.
But I’m Elise, Jane’s best friend, so–
So I’m not supposed to be saying this stuff.
So, the other guy, Guy, said that was too bad and if he could divorce his wife then so could John. And John sobbed.
But also agreed.
I think he shouldn’t have sobbed.
But yeah.
Wait.
Hold up.
If he agreed…
That means I’m in huge trouble with Jane.
I’ll explain later.
But man, oh man, I’m in trouble!
Huge, huge trouble.
Boy, I should’ve listened to Mommy and not interfered–
But I suppose I’ve got to tell the story. John was pushed out the office and Jane came in.
Very grumpily.
So she asked if Guy could hurry up and say whatever it was he wanted to say and quit wasting her time.
And Guy harrumphed but said that yes he could.
And then he said that John and Jane were going to get a divorce.
But Jane didn’t cry.
She just kinda frowned a little and asked how much money it would cost.
Guy said he didn’t know, and then Jane stormed out.
Very huffily.
And then she came back in and slapped the check on the table and then stormed out again.
A lot more huffily.
It was fun to watch.
Really dramatic, and stuff.
I actually really enjoyed watching it.
Except when I remembered that I was in hot water with Jane.
But then I remembered that I didn’t like Jane anyway.
So then I smiled.
A lot.
And then I smiled a little more.
And then I smiled a lot more.
And I sang.
Loud enough that Jane heard me.
And then I was chased down the block with accusations of snooping.
It wasn’t that fun.
So now I guess I have to describe the divorce and stuff.
John and Jane kissed each other and John apologized and Jane said she wasn’t sorry.
And then Jane clapped and said that she would now get half of John’s money without doing anything.
And John sobbed because of that ‘cause he’s a real cry-baby.
But Jane smiled a lot and asked the judge to change her name to Jane Awesome and a lot of other stuff like that.
And the judge said that she had to ask someone else ‘cause she didn’t know.
And Jane got furious, but then she remembered the divorce and smiled. Again.
And then they signed a bunch of contracts, and refused to dance with each other and a bunch of other stuff.
Kinda–well, very, very boring. All this happened, like…
how long ago?
I think an hour ago?
No, it can’t be–
An hour and a half…
Nope, it’s an hour.
So, anyway, right now they’re sitting down in chairs and sobbing.
Happily, though.
Like, really, really happily.
As if this is the greatest thing that ever happened to them in their whole entire forty-five-year-long lives.
Trust me, I was there at their wedding when they went all mushy, and they were not this happy.
They just smiled a bunch and held hands.
John was sweating a bunch.
And Jane was eating cake a bunch.
I like cake.
I’m proud to say I ate two-thirds of the wedding cake.
And it was big.
Like sky-scraper big.
It was chocolate cake, like from Roald Dahl’s book something with Bruce in it.
I got it all over my face.
But sooo worth it.
It tasted epic.
I wish I hadn’t eaten the plastic wrapping, though.
Bit of indigestion, if you know what I mean.
But I loved it, like so much–
I think I’ve got an addiction on my hands.
A really big one.
But who cares, really, I think?
- dhritithescratcher
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dhriti's swc writing :)
“crazy kid,” taylor says, rolling her eyes. “i mean, like, she’s not even a nerd of something–”
“yeah,” chimes in danielle. “she’s so, like, –i don’t know, weird?_- bet you’d catch the crazy disease if you went within thirty feet of her.”
“she should be sent to the mental asylum,” agrees taylor. “it’d be better for the rest of us.”
i stare in shock. they don’t know i’m behind them, but they’ll know soon enough. laughing, my two former best friends turn around, flipping their long locks.
and freeze.
“omg, sara–”
“we totally did not mean you, we were talking about, um, eva–”
“drop the act. i don’t care,” i spit. “so what if i’m crazy? all the best people are.”
danielle and taylor drop the act.
“yeah, you live in a madhouse,” sneers taylor. “with that insane little sister of yours.”
that’s it for me. attack me, fine. but attack ellie, and you’re dead.
“my insane little sister at least has a good heart, “ i bark. “doubt you can say the same.”
“yeah, well, she has no brain,” danielle says, hands on hips. “perhaps she learnt it from you.”
“you can’t learn having no brain,” i say through clenched teeth. “if you have no brain at all.”
they blush bright red and storm off, identical from behind with their matching jeans and tank tops.
someone squeezes my arm.
“hey.”
i turn.
it’s eva. the girl i always made fun of with danielle and taylor. thought she was the weird dork girl. now? i think she might be the only one in the school with a heart.
“eva, hi,” i greet, trying to muster a smile that’ll never appear, never, in a thousand years.
“i think you’re right,” she says quietly. “danielle and taylor are, well–they’re pretty mean.”
i nod along.
“yeah…we used to be best friends, the three of us, but now…i don’t know what’s happened, but we’ve fallen apart.”
“you can stay the night with me,” she offers. “like a sleepover.”
“i’d love to, but i can’t let ellie in the house alone, she’s only six–since mother died, i’m the only one who can take care of her.”
“why not bring her along? we’ll have fun.” she smiles a rare smile.
“actually, that’s a great idea,” i agree, smiling too. i wipe my tears away with my flannel sleeve.
“be back in five!”
i run down the hallway, shoving past sweaty teenage boys, bumping into the popular girls and apologizing–
“ellie!”
a small hand tickles mine.
“right here, annie.”
i pick her up and kiss her forehead.
“hey, buddy. you ready for a treat?”
as expected, she goes wild.
“yes! tell me, tell me, tell meeeee!”
“we’re going for a sleepover!”
“at danielle’s? or taylor’s?”
“no, we’re going to eva’s–the girl with the blonde hair.”
“oh, awesome!” she beams, clapping her tiny hands together. “she can see the future! she’s psychic!”
“i don’t know about that,” i laugh, “but she’s certainly a very nice person!”
we meet eva. we walk down to her place, taking turns carrying ellie piggyback.
but when we get there…
her place is a mansion…leaning towers, huge mahogany doors…
i don’t know if it’s a trick of the light, but her eyes glow red.
“welcome to the hathaway mansion, ann-janine murphy.”
i try to gather courage, but my sister clutching at my legs is unnerving me.
“thank you…”
i frantically search for an excuse.
“oh! i just remembered, doctor’s appointment…”
“but this is a doctor’s appointment…WELCOME TO THE ASYLUM.”
all of a sudden, eva shakes her head, and she’s normal.
“sorry, i hallucinate a bunch..was it you who said you had a doctor’s appointment? my parents are doctors, we can check you out here–”
“yeah, it was me,” i agree. “i’d love that!”
we step in.
her parents step out.
“welcome to hathaways’ mental asylum,” they greet. behind them is a row of torture instruments.
mental asylum.
psychic.
“ellie,” i whisper. “these people are psycho. not psychic.”
but of course–too late.
“yeah,” chimes in danielle. “she’s so, like, –i don’t know, weird?_- bet you’d catch the crazy disease if you went within thirty feet of her.”
“she should be sent to the mental asylum,” agrees taylor. “it’d be better for the rest of us.”
i stare in shock. they don’t know i’m behind them, but they’ll know soon enough. laughing, my two former best friends turn around, flipping their long locks.
and freeze.
“omg, sara–”
“we totally did not mean you, we were talking about, um, eva–”
“drop the act. i don’t care,” i spit. “so what if i’m crazy? all the best people are.”
danielle and taylor drop the act.
“yeah, you live in a madhouse,” sneers taylor. “with that insane little sister of yours.”
that’s it for me. attack me, fine. but attack ellie, and you’re dead.
“my insane little sister at least has a good heart, “ i bark. “doubt you can say the same.”
“yeah, well, she has no brain,” danielle says, hands on hips. “perhaps she learnt it from you.”
“you can’t learn having no brain,” i say through clenched teeth. “if you have no brain at all.”
they blush bright red and storm off, identical from behind with their matching jeans and tank tops.
someone squeezes my arm.
“hey.”
i turn.
it’s eva. the girl i always made fun of with danielle and taylor. thought she was the weird dork girl. now? i think she might be the only one in the school with a heart.
“eva, hi,” i greet, trying to muster a smile that’ll never appear, never, in a thousand years.
“i think you’re right,” she says quietly. “danielle and taylor are, well–they’re pretty mean.”
i nod along.
“yeah…we used to be best friends, the three of us, but now…i don’t know what’s happened, but we’ve fallen apart.”
“you can stay the night with me,” she offers. “like a sleepover.”
“i’d love to, but i can’t let ellie in the house alone, she’s only six–since mother died, i’m the only one who can take care of her.”
“why not bring her along? we’ll have fun.” she smiles a rare smile.
“actually, that’s a great idea,” i agree, smiling too. i wipe my tears away with my flannel sleeve.
“be back in five!”
i run down the hallway, shoving past sweaty teenage boys, bumping into the popular girls and apologizing–
“ellie!”
a small hand tickles mine.
“right here, annie.”
i pick her up and kiss her forehead.
“hey, buddy. you ready for a treat?”
as expected, she goes wild.
“yes! tell me, tell me, tell meeeee!”
“we’re going for a sleepover!”
“at danielle’s? or taylor’s?”
“no, we’re going to eva’s–the girl with the blonde hair.”
“oh, awesome!” she beams, clapping her tiny hands together. “she can see the future! she’s psychic!”
“i don’t know about that,” i laugh, “but she’s certainly a very nice person!”
we meet eva. we walk down to her place, taking turns carrying ellie piggyback.
but when we get there…
her place is a mansion…leaning towers, huge mahogany doors…
i don’t know if it’s a trick of the light, but her eyes glow red.
“welcome to the hathaway mansion, ann-janine murphy.”
i try to gather courage, but my sister clutching at my legs is unnerving me.
“thank you…”
i frantically search for an excuse.
“oh! i just remembered, doctor’s appointment…”
“but this is a doctor’s appointment…WELCOME TO THE ASYLUM.”
all of a sudden, eva shakes her head, and she’s normal.
“sorry, i hallucinate a bunch..was it you who said you had a doctor’s appointment? my parents are doctors, we can check you out here–”
“yeah, it was me,” i agree. “i’d love that!”
we step in.
her parents step out.
“welcome to hathaways’ mental asylum,” they greet. behind them is a row of torture instruments.
mental asylum.
psychic.
“ellie,” i whisper. “these people are psycho. not psychic.”
but of course–too late.
Last edited by dhritithescratcher (Nov. 5, 2021 15:17:00)
- kittykatty1000
-
Scratcher
28 posts
dhriti's swc writing :)
beautiful. who needs touching tales about underdogs being friends when you can have plot twists about mental asylums.
Last edited by kittykatty1000 (Nov. 5, 2021 00:42:59)
- dhritithescratcher
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Scratcher
100+ posts
dhriti's swc writing :)
anyone recognize “cages will open?” anyone?
hint: bad blintz.
“it’s not far off now,” the voice whispers…”soon the cages will open…”
a nervous smile curves my lips upwards.
“truly?”
“soon the rats will pour free…”
a full smile emerges.
“who are you, though? how can you have such power?”
i imagine the figure smirking.
“i am the vampire.”
“the what?”
“not as you imagine, perhaps, not as you imagine, in your flimsy human mind–”
“show yourself!”
i hear a booming laugh.
“very well, earthling…”
a towering figure emerges from the shadows, dressed in a black hood and cape…fangs gleam from the darkness…
the fingertips are dressed in poison.
a luminous light surrounds the figure.
“perhaps not what you presumed a vampire ought to be..”
“n-no–”
“lying? hm, what ratty behaviour, especially to your own master…”
i cower.
the cages open. silver rats leap at me, pushing me into the darkness…the click of a lock.
trapped.
a barrel falls over the cage, blocking out the light.
“rat gets what rat deserves.”
hint: bad blintz.
“it’s not far off now,” the voice whispers…”soon the cages will open…”
a nervous smile curves my lips upwards.
“truly?”
“soon the rats will pour free…”
a full smile emerges.
“who are you, though? how can you have such power?”
i imagine the figure smirking.
“i am the vampire.”
“the what?”
“not as you imagine, perhaps, not as you imagine, in your flimsy human mind–”
“show yourself!”
i hear a booming laugh.
“very well, earthling…”
a towering figure emerges from the shadows, dressed in a black hood and cape…fangs gleam from the darkness…
the fingertips are dressed in poison.
a luminous light surrounds the figure.
“perhaps not what you presumed a vampire ought to be..”
“n-no–”
“lying? hm, what ratty behaviour, especially to your own master…”
i cower.
the cages open. silver rats leap at me, pushing me into the darkness…the click of a lock.
trapped.
a barrel falls over the cage, blocking out the light.
“rat gets what rat deserves.”
Last edited by dhritithescratcher (Nov. 6, 2021 00:32:19)
- dhritithescratcher
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Scratcher
100+ posts
dhriti's swc writing :)
day 1
“take it or leave it,” death hisses in my ear. “make a decision, child…your love and a cherished one, perhaps, or no…”
the voice is cold, uncaring…yet i see the justice.
“no.”
day 2
“take it or leave it,” death whispers in my ear. “make a decision, child…your love and a cherished one, perhaps, or no…”
the voice is cruel, torturous…yet i see the justice.
“no.”
day 3
“take it or leave it,” death purrs in my ear. “make a decision, child…your love and a cherished one, perhaps, or no…”
the voice is tearing me apart, splitting me…yet i see the justice.
“no.”
day 4
“take it or leave it,” death breathes in my ear. “make a decision, child…your love and a cherished one, perhaps, or no…”
the voice is unsympathetic, inflexible…yet i see the justice.
“no.”
day 5
“take it or leave it,” death murmurs in my ear. “make a decision, child…your love and a cherished one, perhaps, or no…”
the voice is hated, inconquerable …yet i see the justice.
“no.”
day 6
“take it or leave it,” death hisses in my ear. “make a decision, child…your love and a cherished one, perhaps, or no…”
the voice is brutal, harsh…yet i see the justice.
“no.”
day 7
“take it or leave it,” death in my ear. “make a decision, child…your love and the cherished one, perhaps, or no…”
the now-familiar voice is cold, uncaring…yet i see the justice.
“yes.”
midnight
he appears. his messy hair, his faint smile, his twinkling eyes…taunting me.
i reach for him.
“ah-ah-ah! the price…the cherished one…”
i didn’t know the cherished one would be me.
“take it or leave it,” death hisses in my ear. “make a decision, child…your love and a cherished one, perhaps, or no…”
the voice is cold, uncaring…yet i see the justice.
“no.”
day 2
“take it or leave it,” death whispers in my ear. “make a decision, child…your love and a cherished one, perhaps, or no…”
the voice is cruel, torturous…yet i see the justice.
“no.”
day 3
“take it or leave it,” death purrs in my ear. “make a decision, child…your love and a cherished one, perhaps, or no…”
the voice is tearing me apart, splitting me…yet i see the justice.
“no.”
day 4
“take it or leave it,” death breathes in my ear. “make a decision, child…your love and a cherished one, perhaps, or no…”
the voice is unsympathetic, inflexible…yet i see the justice.
“no.”
day 5
“take it or leave it,” death murmurs in my ear. “make a decision, child…your love and a cherished one, perhaps, or no…”
the voice is hated, inconquerable …yet i see the justice.
“no.”
day 6
“take it or leave it,” death hisses in my ear. “make a decision, child…your love and a cherished one, perhaps, or no…”
the voice is brutal, harsh…yet i see the justice.
“no.”
day 7
“take it or leave it,” death in my ear. “make a decision, child…your love and the cherished one, perhaps, or no…”
the now-familiar voice is cold, uncaring…yet i see the justice.
“yes.”
midnight
he appears. his messy hair, his faint smile, his twinkling eyes…taunting me.
i reach for him.
“ah-ah-ah! the price…the cherished one…”
i didn’t know the cherished one would be me.
- dhritithescratcher
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Scratcher
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dhriti's swc writing :)
they had so many imaginations about you…
they imagined so much.
they thought you would be their saviours.
they thought you were the magic beings they they were waiting for.
they thought you would be advanced superheroes, that you’d have technology that they’d never dreamt of.
they expected so much.
they prayed every day for you.
they searched every day for you.
they cried every day for you.
yet you never came.
you always knew they they were there, yet you never came.
you could have, if you wanted to.
but you never did.
my ancestors worked so hard for you.
the homo sapiens.
you ignored them.
it’s only now we know you’re there, now we know what you did to them.
we know everything.
you controlled them.
pretended to be their God.
yet was nowhere near as angelic as they thought you were–you simply used them as puppets.
you were the puppet master.
now you dare apologize.
but you ought to know one thing–
apologies don’t change the truth.
nothing does.
it’s up to me, now, what the future will be.
i hold your fate in the palm of my hand.
i could do anything i like to you.
and i will.
i’ll destroy you.
- dhritithescratcher
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Scratcher
100+ posts
dhriti's swc writing :)
hi 
these are expressions of my own thoughts through a fictional character, i’m definitely not a criminal. i also do not condone crime, and i ask you do not take this monologue as an indicator that i do. i also mention manipulation, and i do not condone that either–i’m merely stating how it could be perceived. in the evil argument, nearing the final paragraphs, i stand by the fact that evil beings can still have traits of success, although i do not encourage being evil. however, the happiness-doesn’t-come-from-contentment, mental-processes-dont-change, prison-isn’t-punishment, and humans-operate-on-fear arguments are my own, and i stand by them.
as for the credits–
@elvin_wonders, who graciously critiqued, not only patiently but logically.
@theniqhtsfall, who kindly helped greatly, guiding me through this.
every one of my friends and acquaintances, for being there for me, and pushing me higher and higher.
finally, the actual piece, after all this boring blabbering of mine:
“Your mistake…you thought that there were rules to life. There never were. We started as apes, living in a primitive forest–perhaps we have changed physically, but not mentally. You say we’ve evolved, but have we, truly? In reality? No, of course not….The fundamental ways we think doesn’t change, whatever we do. Never.”
“You thought murder was against the hypothetical ‘rules.’ You thought I wouldn’t dare–of course, you were wrong. So very wrong. The rules are not rules if no-one follows them: they are merely obligations. And who says we should follow obligations?”
“Have you ever thought of it, child? Humans so love inventing rules, yet there never were–never are–any serious consequences. Just empty threats. You say they ‘maintain society,’ but they don’t if the rules are always broken. Have you ever thought of that, child?”
“No, no, of course you haven’t–you call me selfish, but look at your absorption in yourself. You never think for others, not beyond silly Christmas gifts, silly apologies. You never think where it matters.”
“I’ll teach you a little something–thinking for others is the only way. I believe you call it ‘empathy,’ but that doesn’t entirely capture it. I’m not speaking of simply relating to others: I’m speaking of using their desires for self-benefit. You say that’s manipulation, but if manipulation is knowing how to negotiate…I’ll take manipulation.”
“To survive, there’s nothing one can do but break rules. Rules made to be broken. But of course, one doesn’t have to do it oneself. Simple thinking will do.”
“Think for others and you see their deepest, innermost thoughts, desires, and fears. Use it. Know how to negotiate.”
“I was never caught. Those who reported me were never believed. Tell me, now, child, is the justice system such an advanced system?”
“And even if I were sent to prison–have you thought of the fact that for certain humans, prison is better than freedom? You say it’s punishment, but for those who live their lives on the streets, starving, is food punishment?”
“Humans, again, operate only on fear. Look, look at your worship: kings, queens, divine beings of the skies. Never has there been any proof they’re superior, yet you believe because of a priest’s lies. You called it ‘faith,’ yet it was only fear of threat, and you didn’t have the courage to test it. You called it ‘faith,’ but I called it ‘fear.’”
“The same thing with your ‘rules’: They showed you images of so-called ‘consequences,’ and you licked their feet. You never once thought of disobeying–that’d be against the rules, wouldn’t it? I did. I thought of disobeying.”
“And I did break the rules. I never faced any consequences–look at me now, child, look at me now! I’ve been what you call’ evil,’ have I not? You said so yourself, did you not? Yet who says being evil is negative? Evil beings undeniably meet success. Who defines evil? That’s the core question, isn’t it?”
“‘Evil’ brings nothing, nothing but rewards. Look at me, child, look at me now! I’m the world’s richest. The world’s most successful. The world’s most powerful. The world’s happiest.”
“You say money and power don’t bring ‘true’ joy, don’t you? You say ‘true’ joy comes from being kind. But look at me: I’m happy. And by definition, ‘evil’ is the polar opposite of ‘kind.’”
“You always believed that happiness comes from being content. How can that be?”
“Happiness comes from success, both emotionally and from achievements. Happiness also does not last eternally. To maintain happiness, one must keep being successful. That is not being content: Contentment is, by definition, to be in a state of satisfaction. To keep achieving, one cannot be satisfied.”
“Enough of this, however, as pleasurable as it has been. The point is, there are insights that are valuable. Insights I’d be willing to teach you, child…if, of course, you’d be willing to listen.”
these are expressions of my own thoughts through a fictional character, i’m definitely not a criminal. i also do not condone crime, and i ask you do not take this monologue as an indicator that i do. i also mention manipulation, and i do not condone that either–i’m merely stating how it could be perceived. in the evil argument, nearing the final paragraphs, i stand by the fact that evil beings can still have traits of success, although i do not encourage being evil. however, the happiness-doesn’t-come-from-contentment, mental-processes-dont-change, prison-isn’t-punishment, and humans-operate-on-fear arguments are my own, and i stand by them.as for the credits–
@elvin_wonders, who graciously critiqued, not only patiently but logically.
@theniqhtsfall, who kindly helped greatly, guiding me through this.
every one of my friends and acquaintances, for being there for me, and pushing me higher and higher.
finally, the actual piece, after all this boring blabbering of mine:
“Your mistake…you thought that there were rules to life. There never were. We started as apes, living in a primitive forest–perhaps we have changed physically, but not mentally. You say we’ve evolved, but have we, truly? In reality? No, of course not….The fundamental ways we think doesn’t change, whatever we do. Never.”
“You thought murder was against the hypothetical ‘rules.’ You thought I wouldn’t dare–of course, you were wrong. So very wrong. The rules are not rules if no-one follows them: they are merely obligations. And who says we should follow obligations?”
“Have you ever thought of it, child? Humans so love inventing rules, yet there never were–never are–any serious consequences. Just empty threats. You say they ‘maintain society,’ but they don’t if the rules are always broken. Have you ever thought of that, child?”
“No, no, of course you haven’t–you call me selfish, but look at your absorption in yourself. You never think for others, not beyond silly Christmas gifts, silly apologies. You never think where it matters.”
“I’ll teach you a little something–thinking for others is the only way. I believe you call it ‘empathy,’ but that doesn’t entirely capture it. I’m not speaking of simply relating to others: I’m speaking of using their desires for self-benefit. You say that’s manipulation, but if manipulation is knowing how to negotiate…I’ll take manipulation.”
“To survive, there’s nothing one can do but break rules. Rules made to be broken. But of course, one doesn’t have to do it oneself. Simple thinking will do.”
“Think for others and you see their deepest, innermost thoughts, desires, and fears. Use it. Know how to negotiate.”
“I was never caught. Those who reported me were never believed. Tell me, now, child, is the justice system such an advanced system?”
“And even if I were sent to prison–have you thought of the fact that for certain humans, prison is better than freedom? You say it’s punishment, but for those who live their lives on the streets, starving, is food punishment?”
“Humans, again, operate only on fear. Look, look at your worship: kings, queens, divine beings of the skies. Never has there been any proof they’re superior, yet you believe because of a priest’s lies. You called it ‘faith,’ yet it was only fear of threat, and you didn’t have the courage to test it. You called it ‘faith,’ but I called it ‘fear.’”
“The same thing with your ‘rules’: They showed you images of so-called ‘consequences,’ and you licked their feet. You never once thought of disobeying–that’d be against the rules, wouldn’t it? I did. I thought of disobeying.”
“And I did break the rules. I never faced any consequences–look at me now, child, look at me now! I’ve been what you call’ evil,’ have I not? You said so yourself, did you not? Yet who says being evil is negative? Evil beings undeniably meet success. Who defines evil? That’s the core question, isn’t it?”
“‘Evil’ brings nothing, nothing but rewards. Look at me, child, look at me now! I’m the world’s richest. The world’s most successful. The world’s most powerful. The world’s happiest.”
“You say money and power don’t bring ‘true’ joy, don’t you? You say ‘true’ joy comes from being kind. But look at me: I’m happy. And by definition, ‘evil’ is the polar opposite of ‘kind.’”
“You always believed that happiness comes from being content. How can that be?”
“Happiness comes from success, both emotionally and from achievements. Happiness also does not last eternally. To maintain happiness, one must keep being successful. That is not being content: Contentment is, by definition, to be in a state of satisfaction. To keep achieving, one cannot be satisfied.”
“Enough of this, however, as pleasurable as it has been. The point is, there are insights that are valuable. Insights I’d be willing to teach you, child…if, of course, you’d be willing to listen.”
Last edited by dhritithescratcher (Nov. 20, 2021 23:01:34)
- dhritithescratcher
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dhriti's swc writing :)
i hate you so much. i hate you so much. you ruined my life. i hate you.
you sneered, you catcalled, you insulted. you never cared what i would think of it all.
you’re a monster, a psychopath.
that’s right. a monster.
i’m not afraid to say so.
my greatest mistake was to love you, to marry you. it is my greatest regret.
you abused me every day, but i just agreed and took it all. i pushed myself down.
when you were the one who needed pushing down.
so maybe i’m being mean. maybe i’m not being nice.
but so what?
you were mean first.
you insulted me first.
everything i do now, every action–it’s only a reaction.
call it an excuse, go ahead, but it’s the truth.
only a reaction.
and guess what?
i don’t love you anymore.
i never did.
i thought i did, but i never did.
i was a fool to be desperate enough to fall for you.
such a fool.
an idiot, a moron, a beslubbering beef-witted bladder.
i licked your feet.
i worshipped you.
what did i get in return?
hate. abuse. putting down.
and now you dare to ask me, why am i so mean?
i’ll tell you why.
because of the hurt.
because of the anger.
because of the sadness.
because…everything.
you sneered, you catcalled, you insulted. you never cared what i would think of it all.
you’re a monster, a psychopath.
that’s right. a monster.
i’m not afraid to say so.
my greatest mistake was to love you, to marry you. it is my greatest regret.
you abused me every day, but i just agreed and took it all. i pushed myself down.
when you were the one who needed pushing down.
so maybe i’m being mean. maybe i’m not being nice.
but so what?
you were mean first.
you insulted me first.
everything i do now, every action–it’s only a reaction.
call it an excuse, go ahead, but it’s the truth.
only a reaction.
and guess what?
i don’t love you anymore.
i never did.
i thought i did, but i never did.
i was a fool to be desperate enough to fall for you.
such a fool.
an idiot, a moron, a beslubbering beef-witted bladder.
i licked your feet.
i worshipped you.
what did i get in return?
hate. abuse. putting down.
and now you dare to ask me, why am i so mean?
i’ll tell you why.
because of the hurt.
because of the anger.
because of the sadness.
because…everything.
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dhriti's swc writing :)
you haven’t called in so long…
i missed you so much.
i can’t tell you how much i ached for you.
i was willing to kill myself to meet you again.
to exchange a few simple words.
perhaps just a hello and goodbye.
that would’ve satisfied me.
to feel your softest of soft skin, to wrap my arms around your warm waist–that would’ve made me euphoric.
now you’ve called, after ten years, after a decade of waiting.
i thought i would’ve been overjoyed, that i would’ve been smiling.
but i guess i’ve moved on.
moved on from you.
i’m not overjoyed.
i’m not euphoric.
i’m angry.
i’m sad.
that you ignored me for so long. without a word of notice.
let me cry in my bedroom, alone.
you knew i had nobody else.
no friends. no family either.
just myself.
but i learnt that just myself–that was enough.
i didn’t need anyone.
least of all, you.
i didn’t need you.
i don’t need you.
i never will.
i have a thousand friends at my beck and call.
my foster family.
i love them with the love i used to have for you.
and they love me with their whole hearts.
i laugh with them. i talk with them. i embrace them.
because they’re the ones that were there for me when i needed them.
you weren’t.
you were the reason i needed them.
now you beg me to forgive you.
why should i?
why should i, when you were such a idiot?
idiot, to have sparked me.
i’m not merciful anymore.
i used to follow you, used to lick your feet.
used to practically worship you.
now i don’t.
and you’re surprised.
why, you ask?
i realized something.
what, you ask?
i realized that if you deserted me the way you did, you didn’t deserve me.
i didn’t deserve you.
i told you we were meant to be, but was that really true?
no.
it was lies, fabrications.
even if i believed it.
even if i kissed you the day of our wedding.
i’m honestly not even sorry for you.
why ought i be?
why should i?
your pleas of forgiveness don’t change anything for me. don’t change reality.
your shouts of apologies don’t change anything for me. don’t change reality.
your declarations of love don’t change anything for me. don’t change reality.
because i don’t love you anymore.
not anymore.
i never did.
i was just desperate.
enough to fall for you.
i was just a moron.
i’m not the person i was ten years ago, though.
i’ve grown. i’ve learnt. as you say, i’ve changed. very much so.
thanks to myself.
not you.
never you.
you were only there when the sun was shining.
never when the rain fell.
when the stormclouds gathered, you fled.
so now?
i’m fleeing from you.
don’t mistake it for surrender.
i’m not surrendering.
it’s not surrender–i’ve already won this battle.
forget battle–i’ve won this war.
i’m the victor.
i’m the one with the laurel on my head.
i’m smiling now.
not because of you.
i’m smiling because of everything.
everything that’s not connected to you.
so now what?
now i hang up.
without a care.
without a care of the hurt you might be feeling.
i’m actually proud of the hurt i’ve caused.
i meant to.
that’s right, i meant to.
goodbye, husband.
goodbye.
i missed you so much.
i can’t tell you how much i ached for you.
i was willing to kill myself to meet you again.
to exchange a few simple words.
perhaps just a hello and goodbye.
that would’ve satisfied me.
to feel your softest of soft skin, to wrap my arms around your warm waist–that would’ve made me euphoric.
now you’ve called, after ten years, after a decade of waiting.
i thought i would’ve been overjoyed, that i would’ve been smiling.
but i guess i’ve moved on.
moved on from you.
i’m not overjoyed.
i’m not euphoric.
i’m angry.
i’m sad.
that you ignored me for so long. without a word of notice.
let me cry in my bedroom, alone.
you knew i had nobody else.
no friends. no family either.
just myself.
but i learnt that just myself–that was enough.
i didn’t need anyone.
least of all, you.
i didn’t need you.
i don’t need you.
i never will.
i have a thousand friends at my beck and call.
my foster family.
i love them with the love i used to have for you.
and they love me with their whole hearts.
i laugh with them. i talk with them. i embrace them.
because they’re the ones that were there for me when i needed them.
you weren’t.
you were the reason i needed them.
now you beg me to forgive you.
why should i?
why should i, when you were such a idiot?
idiot, to have sparked me.
i’m not merciful anymore.
i used to follow you, used to lick your feet.
used to practically worship you.
now i don’t.
and you’re surprised.
why, you ask?
i realized something.
what, you ask?
i realized that if you deserted me the way you did, you didn’t deserve me.
i didn’t deserve you.
i told you we were meant to be, but was that really true?
no.
it was lies, fabrications.
even if i believed it.
even if i kissed you the day of our wedding.
i’m honestly not even sorry for you.
why ought i be?
why should i?
your pleas of forgiveness don’t change anything for me. don’t change reality.
your shouts of apologies don’t change anything for me. don’t change reality.
your declarations of love don’t change anything for me. don’t change reality.
because i don’t love you anymore.
not anymore.
i never did.
i was just desperate.
enough to fall for you.
i was just a moron.
i’m not the person i was ten years ago, though.
i’ve grown. i’ve learnt. as you say, i’ve changed. very much so.
thanks to myself.
not you.
never you.
you were only there when the sun was shining.
never when the rain fell.
when the stormclouds gathered, you fled.
so now?
i’m fleeing from you.
don’t mistake it for surrender.
i’m not surrendering.
it’s not surrender–i’ve already won this battle.
forget battle–i’ve won this war.
i’m the victor.
i’m the one with the laurel on my head.
i’m smiling now.
not because of you.
i’m smiling because of everything.
everything that’s not connected to you.
so now what?
now i hang up.
without a care.
without a care of the hurt you might be feeling.
i’m actually proud of the hurt i’ve caused.
i meant to.
that’s right, i meant to.
goodbye, husband.
goodbye.
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dhriti's swc writing :)
dearest elfie–
i’ve known you for less than a year. yet you’ve become one of my closest, dearest and best friends, bringing a smile to my face with every interaction. i look to you for mature advice. i look to you for smiles, for laughter. i look to you for wise, calm, honest words.
if we knew each other in person, you would be the one i would clasp hands with and never let go. we know each other merely online, but that’s enough to throw me into a state of euphoria. before i met you, i was lost, i was close to nothing. with you i grew, i learnt. i became more literate not only in literature, but in friendship.
you listened patiently to my numerous rants. you laughed at my bad jokes. you mentally held me when i sobbed. i know i tease you more than i should. i know i snap at you and i bark at you. i know that i’m an ungrateful, cheeky unappreciative child.
but i do appreciate you. yes, i don’t show it properly. yes, i don’t thank you enough. but i love you so much as friends. i can’t tell you how much, but i’ll try.
the day i met you, i thought you were just another kid i had to deal with. soon enough, i was proved wrong. you weren’t. i didn’t have to deal with you–i got to. i got to enjoy you. even though we have a three-year difference in age, you always treat me like an equal–that’s just one of your many virtues.
you’re kind. you’re friendly. you’re smart. you’re…perfect. not only as a friend, but as a person, as a whole. i’m lucky to have met you.
i’ve angered you now. i’ve hurt you. i’m truly apologetic. if you’ll believe me. i swear i did not mean to, although i did. i’ll try to do better. though of course, it’s impossible to reach your level.
so here we are. i’ve delivered the apology. you don’t have to accept it, but i hope you’ll know i mean it. more than i’ve ever meant anything to you, anything else to anyone. but if i could have one wish now, i wouldn’t have a second thought–i’d wish to earn you back.
yours truly,
dhriti
i’ve known you for less than a year. yet you’ve become one of my closest, dearest and best friends, bringing a smile to my face with every interaction. i look to you for mature advice. i look to you for smiles, for laughter. i look to you for wise, calm, honest words.
if we knew each other in person, you would be the one i would clasp hands with and never let go. we know each other merely online, but that’s enough to throw me into a state of euphoria. before i met you, i was lost, i was close to nothing. with you i grew, i learnt. i became more literate not only in literature, but in friendship.
you listened patiently to my numerous rants. you laughed at my bad jokes. you mentally held me when i sobbed. i know i tease you more than i should. i know i snap at you and i bark at you. i know that i’m an ungrateful, cheeky unappreciative child.
but i do appreciate you. yes, i don’t show it properly. yes, i don’t thank you enough. but i love you so much as friends. i can’t tell you how much, but i’ll try.
the day i met you, i thought you were just another kid i had to deal with. soon enough, i was proved wrong. you weren’t. i didn’t have to deal with you–i got to. i got to enjoy you. even though we have a three-year difference in age, you always treat me like an equal–that’s just one of your many virtues.
you’re kind. you’re friendly. you’re smart. you’re…perfect. not only as a friend, but as a person, as a whole. i’m lucky to have met you.
i’ve angered you now. i’ve hurt you. i’m truly apologetic. if you’ll believe me. i swear i did not mean to, although i did. i’ll try to do better. though of course, it’s impossible to reach your level.
so here we are. i’ve delivered the apology. you don’t have to accept it, but i hope you’ll know i mean it. more than i’ve ever meant anything to you, anything else to anyone. but if i could have one wish now, i wouldn’t have a second thought–i’d wish to earn you back.
yours truly,
dhriti
Last edited by dhritithescratcher (Nov. 8, 2021 01:49:55)
- dhritithescratcher
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dhriti's swc writing :)
we used to be the closest of friends. our friendship was a towering oak tree, each branch a facet our own separate lives– yet every branch connected to the trunk of our friendship. we used to hug each other, laughing without a care in the world, laughing together. eyes twinkling, hands clasped. trusting each other more than anyone else.
but of course, time weathers all. our tree fell. we split, each on our own path. spat at each other’s feet, expressions of disgust on our faces. turned our backs harshly. became mortal enemies. where love once filled our hearts at the sight of our closest friend, hate rose.
we used to be connected by a thousand threads. now we are broken enough that no seam can fix us. where we used to guide each other through the all-encompassing darkness, we pushed each other, sneering as the other stumbled and fell.
we glared icily at each other, hurled insults, uncaring how much the other was hurt. we wanted to hurt. rip each other apart, to pieces. we used to fit together like puzzle pieces. if you try to put us together now, we’ll kill each other with no regrets.
our power used to be shared. now that we’re split, we’re constantly testing each other, each wanting to prove themselves stronger. rivals. the glue of friendship completely decomposed.
and now we’re decomposing.
privately sobbing at what we’ve become.
publicly putting on a show of tough acts and smart remarks.
look at what we’ve become.
ten years ago we were the best of friends, the closest, the dearest.
now…
i don’t know.
i’m not going to pretend i don’t want you back.
i do, so badly.
i want your warm laughs back. your warm hugs. your warm smiles. your warm personality.
i always loved you like a sibling.
now it’s like that sibling thinks i’m their mortal enemy.
i still love you like a sibling.
through all we’ve been through.
i’ll do anything to have you back.
just smile for me one more time.
talk to me one more time.
hug me one more time.
become yourself, my former best friend again.
you still are.
i just want it to be old times again.
you know i could never tolerate change, i couldn’t deal with it.
you always helped me through that.
now you’re not here…
but if you were, i’d tell you that i’m more than apologetic.
that day we argued–it’s the greatest regret of my life.
i didn’t mean the insults, the angry words thrown, the sneers, the mockery…
i mean the apology.
when you’ll accept it.
if.
if you’ll accept it.
i just want my best friend back.
i just want her to love me again.
but of course, time weathers all. our tree fell. we split, each on our own path. spat at each other’s feet, expressions of disgust on our faces. turned our backs harshly. became mortal enemies. where love once filled our hearts at the sight of our closest friend, hate rose.
we used to be connected by a thousand threads. now we are broken enough that no seam can fix us. where we used to guide each other through the all-encompassing darkness, we pushed each other, sneering as the other stumbled and fell.
we glared icily at each other, hurled insults, uncaring how much the other was hurt. we wanted to hurt. rip each other apart, to pieces. we used to fit together like puzzle pieces. if you try to put us together now, we’ll kill each other with no regrets.
our power used to be shared. now that we’re split, we’re constantly testing each other, each wanting to prove themselves stronger. rivals. the glue of friendship completely decomposed.
and now we’re decomposing.
privately sobbing at what we’ve become.
publicly putting on a show of tough acts and smart remarks.
look at what we’ve become.
ten years ago we were the best of friends, the closest, the dearest.
now…
i don’t know.
i’m not going to pretend i don’t want you back.
i do, so badly.
i want your warm laughs back. your warm hugs. your warm smiles. your warm personality.
i always loved you like a sibling.
now it’s like that sibling thinks i’m their mortal enemy.
i still love you like a sibling.
through all we’ve been through.
i’ll do anything to have you back.
just smile for me one more time.
talk to me one more time.
hug me one more time.
become yourself, my former best friend again.
you still are.
i just want it to be old times again.
you know i could never tolerate change, i couldn’t deal with it.
you always helped me through that.
now you’re not here…
but if you were, i’d tell you that i’m more than apologetic.
that day we argued–it’s the greatest regret of my life.
i didn’t mean the insults, the angry words thrown, the sneers, the mockery…
i mean the apology.
when you’ll accept it.
if.
if you’ll accept it.
i just want my best friend back.
i just want her to love me again.
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dhriti's swc writing :)
first part of weekly
activity one: (genre romance–bleh)
i smile tentatively.
“thank you, miles.”
he smiles handsomely.
“no problem at all.”
i blush a rose pink.
he grins, displaying, showing off his perfect white teeth.
perfect.
“tomorrow night at the theater? i hear there’s a real good movie…”
i turn tomato-red.
he’s asking me out.
“like a date?”
“like a date,” he agrees. “that’s exactly it. like a date.”
i resist to keep from squealing and jumping about in euphoria.
“of course, i’d love to!”
“mutual, then.” he smiles again. “see you then!”
that voice of his…the low baritone. deep, rumbling. powerful.
commanding respect.
maybe even love.
if he’ll accept it.
(genre horror)
“linda.”
a booming voice shakes the ground.
powerful.
scary.
i scream.
i whip around.
miles.
my year-long crush.
i breathe a sigh of relief.
“hey, miles.”
“hey.”
he smiles his adorable smile.
i can’t help smiling back.
i marvel at his boyish round face, his sparkling blue eyes and perfect blond hair.
“hey, tomorrow, zombietown?”
zombietown?
my heartbeat rises.
what’s zombietown?
i panic, i start hyperventilating.
“y-yeah, s-sure–”
“chill, the movie.”
i turn the reddest red anyone’s ever been in the history of the world.
“oh.”
he grins, showing off his perfect teeth,
he laughs his tinkling laugh.
“nah, no problem. i’m not some zombie–”
he starts laughing again.
“what time?”
“seven, i’ll pick you up.”
how would he know my address?
a stalker.
a creep.
i have a crush on a stalker.
an undeniably cute stalker, though.
i keep up the act.
“like a date?”
“exactly, like a date.”
“i’d…like that.”
it’s true.
if i’m ashamed it, it’s still true.
i’d like a date with a stalker who tracks my every move.
activity two:
(credit to @Kosmos_Kitty, heavily inspired from her poem ‘mistakes of malice’, some lines merely reworded.)
i’m drunk on jealousy
jealous of your ecstasy
shattered rules of government’s policy
it’s known i’m crazy.
went mad in my malice
poisoned the wine in your chalice
refused to roll the dice
in our little game of cat and mice.
didn’t hesitate to baste
spit in my face
the warmth of which i can still taste
our love was such a waste–
knowledge that i’m wrong
wasn’t strong
couldn’t bear the bite of your prongs
it hurt so long.
your words like a whipping crop
thought i was the criminal, you the cop
you didn’t know the meaning of ‘stop’
now your breathing may stop.
i still won’t apologize
won’t look into those helpless, dying eyes
the fall of an empire of lies
my grand prize.
activity one: (genre romance–bleh)
i smile tentatively.
“thank you, miles.”
he smiles handsomely.
“no problem at all.”
i blush a rose pink.
he grins, displaying, showing off his perfect white teeth.
perfect.
“tomorrow night at the theater? i hear there’s a real good movie…”
i turn tomato-red.
he’s asking me out.
“like a date?”
“like a date,” he agrees. “that’s exactly it. like a date.”
i resist to keep from squealing and jumping about in euphoria.
“of course, i’d love to!”
“mutual, then.” he smiles again. “see you then!”
that voice of his…the low baritone. deep, rumbling. powerful.
commanding respect.
maybe even love.
if he’ll accept it.
(genre horror)
“linda.”
a booming voice shakes the ground.
powerful.
scary.
i scream.
i whip around.
miles.
my year-long crush.
i breathe a sigh of relief.
“hey, miles.”
“hey.”
he smiles his adorable smile.
i can’t help smiling back.
i marvel at his boyish round face, his sparkling blue eyes and perfect blond hair.
“hey, tomorrow, zombietown?”
zombietown?
my heartbeat rises.
what’s zombietown?
i panic, i start hyperventilating.
“y-yeah, s-sure–”
“chill, the movie.”
i turn the reddest red anyone’s ever been in the history of the world.
“oh.”
he grins, showing off his perfect teeth,
he laughs his tinkling laugh.
“nah, no problem. i’m not some zombie–”
he starts laughing again.
“what time?”
“seven, i’ll pick you up.”
how would he know my address?
a stalker.
a creep.
i have a crush on a stalker.
an undeniably cute stalker, though.
i keep up the act.
“like a date?”
“exactly, like a date.”
“i’d…like that.”
it’s true.
if i’m ashamed it, it’s still true.
i’d like a date with a stalker who tracks my every move.
activity two:
(credit to @Kosmos_Kitty, heavily inspired from her poem ‘mistakes of malice’, some lines merely reworded.)
i’m drunk on jealousy
jealous of your ecstasy
shattered rules of government’s policy
it’s known i’m crazy.
went mad in my malice
poisoned the wine in your chalice
refused to roll the dice
in our little game of cat and mice.
didn’t hesitate to baste
spit in my face
the warmth of which i can still taste
our love was such a waste–
knowledge that i’m wrong
wasn’t strong
couldn’t bear the bite of your prongs
it hurt so long.
your words like a whipping crop
thought i was the criminal, you the cop
you didn’t know the meaning of ‘stop’
now your breathing may stop.
i still won’t apologize
won’t look into those helpless, dying eyes
the fall of an empire of lies
my grand prize.
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Scratcher
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dhriti's swc writing :)
i stare at the cup, the intricate floral designs snaking across the pure snow china. perfectly round and compact, a little handle on the side, sitting exactly in the center of the equally pure saucer. the brown liquid is smooth, but for the ripples moving from the center. i hook my index around the handle, lifting the drink to my lips while it’s hot.
it burns, burns my tongue, burns my lips, but i do not care. i take another sip, glancing in front of myself. what i see makes me nearly spit my out in shock, in surprise.
“who in the nine worlds are you–”
i address the bloke in front of me who thinks it’s cool to barge in and sit cross-legged pretending to meditate.
the closed eyes open.
“confucius.”
“yeah, sure. confucius had hair.”
the bloke looks mildly offended.
“hmf, well, everybody balds, and it’s none of your business.”
“you’re not confucius, he’s dead!”
“no, well. fine. i’m the first emperor of china.”
“oh, sure, kid, sure–you think i’m going to believe this?”
“heard of the terracotta army? they were not merely for vanity. i set them to activate at a certain time…it seems it is now.”
“those were just terracotta figures!”
“oh?”
i grit my teeth and decide to entertain this ‘first emperor of china’ guy.
“oh, yeah, what time?”
“the twenty-third day of the thirteenth month of the twenty-third century.” he says calmly.
“there is no thirteenth month.”
“no?”
infuriating.
“tenimystle.”
“no such thing.”
“look it up, you have one of those cell phones, don’t you?”
i search up ‘tenimystle.’
“ha! no such thing.”
“give it.”
“no, it’s my goddarn phone!”
“godsdarn. there are multiple.”
“you keep to your religion and i’ll keep to mine!” i spit.
it burns, burns my tongue, burns my lips, but i do not care. i take another sip, glancing in front of myself. what i see makes me nearly spit my out in shock, in surprise.
“who in the nine worlds are you–”
i address the bloke in front of me who thinks it’s cool to barge in and sit cross-legged pretending to meditate.
the closed eyes open.
“confucius.”
“yeah, sure. confucius had hair.”
the bloke looks mildly offended.
“hmf, well, everybody balds, and it’s none of your business.”
“you’re not confucius, he’s dead!”
“no, well. fine. i’m the first emperor of china.”
“oh, sure, kid, sure–you think i’m going to believe this?”
“heard of the terracotta army? they were not merely for vanity. i set them to activate at a certain time…it seems it is now.”
“those were just terracotta figures!”
“oh?”
i grit my teeth and decide to entertain this ‘first emperor of china’ guy.
“oh, yeah, what time?”
“the twenty-third day of the thirteenth month of the twenty-third century.” he says calmly.
“there is no thirteenth month.”
“no?”
infuriating.
“tenimystle.”
“no such thing.”
“look it up, you have one of those cell phones, don’t you?”
i search up ‘tenimystle.’
“ha! no such thing.”
“give it.”
“no, it’s my goddarn phone!”
“godsdarn. there are multiple.”
“you keep to your religion and i’ll keep to mine!” i spit.
- dhritithescratcher
-
Scratcher
100+ posts
dhriti's swc writing :)
i’ve had an awful day. let’s start from the beginning. i walked in late to school. a whole fifteen minutes late. i forgot the slip stating that i’m not sick, that i’ve the average temperature…this is the second day in a row. just great, huh?
well, then i stepped in the classroom. i sat down with my best friend. we’re doing a project together on human fundamental needs (health, intelligence, and will to live), so we planned that out, a rough plan and delegation. i’m doing the ruler measurement, research, and handwriting work, and my bestie is in charge of art (decoration, example art, colouring, etc.) and tracing my handwriting.
well, that took enough time that i didn’t have time to do my spelling/math before an extremely boring lesson. on what? area, simplest of subjects. i sat through the monstrosity. two minutes afterward, i realise that i’ve forgotten my grammar follow-up, due the next day. finish it in a hurry.
then i catch up on all the spelling, math, and all the rest. by now, i’m incredibly cranky. i’m sulking. i’m snapping at my own best friend to hurry up and finish their math so we can goddarn go on a walk like we do every day. they finish their square roots and come along. we go down–only for i to be taunted that i look like a boy.
sexism and stereotypes. who defines what a ‘boy’ should look like? and what a ‘girl’ should look like? plenty of girls have pixie cuts and plenty of boys have long hair. so i was seething. i barked that if they believed that, i pitied the country for calling this person a citizen.
unfortunately, a nearby teacher heard, and i got in minor trouble (a two-minute lecture and a forced apology). my bestie supported me, but of course, they just got into trouble for being a ‘bystander.’
i step back into the classroom, and we’re cleaning up for freeplay (what my school calls recess). it goes alright. but recess was just plain bad.
we were playing monkey in the middle (a game where players pass a ball, keeping it away from the person in the middle, the ‘monkey’), and i was the monkey, because i called ‘not it’ last. well, i was stuck there the whole thirty minutes of freeplay.
lunch? i have yogurt and rice, and i spill it down my favourite t-shirt. i’m a messy eater, okay? so then i have to clean up and barely eat anything while everyone else hurries downstairs for music with the eternally-grouchy teacher, steve.
i come in five minutes late and i’m scolded another five minutes for that. i glance down–we’re doing the most boring of musical instruments. the xylophone. the teacher announces that we’re being ‘quizzed’ for perfect pitch (being able to hear something and say what note it is).
everybody else got it first/second try. i didn’t get it all. what burned was that one kid actually snickered at me. and i got everyone else’s right–just my own wrong. i was infuriated that i was nervous.
then we run back up for coding, which went alright–but then we had library. we’re reading aloud. i hate read-alouds. it doesn’t give the satisfaction of reading oneself. we’re reading roald dahl. i’d love that, except that i’ve read all his books ten times over. i was incredibly bored.
then we have tedious clean-up again and i get picked up.
around two hours later, i have martial arts. i try to kick higher and end up unintentionally somersaulting in mid-air and landing on my bottom. humiliation.
well, then i stepped in the classroom. i sat down with my best friend. we’re doing a project together on human fundamental needs (health, intelligence, and will to live), so we planned that out, a rough plan and delegation. i’m doing the ruler measurement, research, and handwriting work, and my bestie is in charge of art (decoration, example art, colouring, etc.) and tracing my handwriting.
well, that took enough time that i didn’t have time to do my spelling/math before an extremely boring lesson. on what? area, simplest of subjects. i sat through the monstrosity. two minutes afterward, i realise that i’ve forgotten my grammar follow-up, due the next day. finish it in a hurry.
then i catch up on all the spelling, math, and all the rest. by now, i’m incredibly cranky. i’m sulking. i’m snapping at my own best friend to hurry up and finish their math so we can goddarn go on a walk like we do every day. they finish their square roots and come along. we go down–only for i to be taunted that i look like a boy.
sexism and stereotypes. who defines what a ‘boy’ should look like? and what a ‘girl’ should look like? plenty of girls have pixie cuts and plenty of boys have long hair. so i was seething. i barked that if they believed that, i pitied the country for calling this person a citizen.
unfortunately, a nearby teacher heard, and i got in minor trouble (a two-minute lecture and a forced apology). my bestie supported me, but of course, they just got into trouble for being a ‘bystander.’
i step back into the classroom, and we’re cleaning up for freeplay (what my school calls recess). it goes alright. but recess was just plain bad.
we were playing monkey in the middle (a game where players pass a ball, keeping it away from the person in the middle, the ‘monkey’), and i was the monkey, because i called ‘not it’ last. well, i was stuck there the whole thirty minutes of freeplay.
lunch? i have yogurt and rice, and i spill it down my favourite t-shirt. i’m a messy eater, okay? so then i have to clean up and barely eat anything while everyone else hurries downstairs for music with the eternally-grouchy teacher, steve.
i come in five minutes late and i’m scolded another five minutes for that. i glance down–we’re doing the most boring of musical instruments. the xylophone. the teacher announces that we’re being ‘quizzed’ for perfect pitch (being able to hear something and say what note it is).
everybody else got it first/second try. i didn’t get it all. what burned was that one kid actually snickered at me. and i got everyone else’s right–just my own wrong. i was infuriated that i was nervous.
then we run back up for coding, which went alright–but then we had library. we’re reading aloud. i hate read-alouds. it doesn’t give the satisfaction of reading oneself. we’re reading roald dahl. i’d love that, except that i’ve read all his books ten times over. i was incredibly bored.
then we have tedious clean-up again and i get picked up.
around two hours later, i have martial arts. i try to kick higher and end up unintentionally somersaulting in mid-air and landing on my bottom. humiliation.
- dhritithescratcher
-
Scratcher
100+ posts
dhriti's swc writing :)
in the heart of bloatstown, a small town of cheesevilland, there lived a short, rather fat (although no-one was quite sure about the fatness–it had been a decade since someone had actually sighted her) witch, who was the most stereotypical witch you’ll ever meet. if you’ve the misfortune enough to, of course.
she had the long hat–midnight blue with black stars. she had the warts. she had the old, weathered flying-broomstick. she also had a wand. the problem was, she wasn’t actually that great at magic with it.
fortunately (or unfortunately, depending on whether you’re on the witch’s side or bloatstown’s villagers’ side) the folks of bloatstown did not know this. they were dead scared of her–nobody in ten years, again, had ever stepped into her witchy lair, and it wasn’t a coincidence.
the really big problem was that every ten years the witch requested–well, let’s be honest, demanded very witchily–a sacrifice. according to her, in her very own words: ‘preferably of human blood, and preferably a living child.’
this year it was tabitha, a chubby kid of about three. she had a mop of untamable curly black hair, and was always–24/7–slubbering over her bib. she wasn’t very well loved in the town, with a nickname of ‘beslubbering beef-witted bladder baby.’
as you can imagine, nobody was really sad about her sacrifice. they weren’t, however, afraid to throw rotten ginger and onions and lots of other disgusting stuff in each other’s faces in the middle of a supposedly ‘calm’ conference on who would venture into the stereotypically deep, dark woods of the name Deep Dark Woods.
at the end, enough rotten ginger and onions and lots of other disgusting stuff was thrown in an aged, withered old man named lampright’s wrinkled face for him to be the ‘chosen one’, although it wasn’t nearly as nice as the title gave the illusion of–to be more realistic, the title is ‘the person who shall be murdered.’
she had the long hat–midnight blue with black stars. she had the warts. she had the old, weathered flying-broomstick. she also had a wand. the problem was, she wasn’t actually that great at magic with it.
fortunately (or unfortunately, depending on whether you’re on the witch’s side or bloatstown’s villagers’ side) the folks of bloatstown did not know this. they were dead scared of her–nobody in ten years, again, had ever stepped into her witchy lair, and it wasn’t a coincidence.
the really big problem was that every ten years the witch requested–well, let’s be honest, demanded very witchily–a sacrifice. according to her, in her very own words: ‘preferably of human blood, and preferably a living child.’
this year it was tabitha, a chubby kid of about three. she had a mop of untamable curly black hair, and was always–24/7–slubbering over her bib. she wasn’t very well loved in the town, with a nickname of ‘beslubbering beef-witted bladder baby.’
as you can imagine, nobody was really sad about her sacrifice. they weren’t, however, afraid to throw rotten ginger and onions and lots of other disgusting stuff in each other’s faces in the middle of a supposedly ‘calm’ conference on who would venture into the stereotypically deep, dark woods of the name Deep Dark Woods.
at the end, enough rotten ginger and onions and lots of other disgusting stuff was thrown in an aged, withered old man named lampright’s wrinkled face for him to be the ‘chosen one’, although it wasn’t nearly as nice as the title gave the illusion of–to be more realistic, the title is ‘the person who shall be murdered.’
- dhritithescratcher
-
Scratcher
100+ posts
dhriti's swc writing :)
“i am the queen’s final heir. i am the queen’s final trusted one. i don’t mind dying–but if i do, i take the truth with me. make your decision.”
what if she knows–?
“there is no truth the queen has not made public.”
a dry laugh.
“isn’t there? the queen had thirteen successors. all but one mysteriously died on the last crescent moon–i am the one who survived. it was not a coincidence. i am the chosen one. the successors were murdered.”
“and by whom, may i ask?”
i try to pull off a doubtful air.
“by you.”
she knows.
“i have guarded you. i have protected you. but do not mistake it for ignorance. you, brother, are the queen’s husband. the lost king.”
her eyes penetrate mine.
“but the queen did not mention a lost king, of course–you are not the heir of her majesty. the wisest takes the throne–never the eldest.”
“who says that you are the wisest?”
“because i am the one who conquered the murderer. scared him away. you were the murderer. i conquered you, the only other heir–therefore i take the crown.”
“if i murder you, i am king…” i murmur.
“ah, but the citizens know i am the winner of the queen’s game–the dice were rolled. the dice favoured me. if you take me now, who will listen to you? you may have the title of king, but not the position.”
“i don’t care. a quote: ‘it is better to be feared than to be loved, if one cannot be both.’ if they won’t love me, let them fear me.”
i plunge the sword into the final heir.
the final achievement.
what if she knows–?
“there is no truth the queen has not made public.”
a dry laugh.
“isn’t there? the queen had thirteen successors. all but one mysteriously died on the last crescent moon–i am the one who survived. it was not a coincidence. i am the chosen one. the successors were murdered.”
“and by whom, may i ask?”
i try to pull off a doubtful air.
“by you.”
she knows.
“i have guarded you. i have protected you. but do not mistake it for ignorance. you, brother, are the queen’s husband. the lost king.”
her eyes penetrate mine.
“but the queen did not mention a lost king, of course–you are not the heir of her majesty. the wisest takes the throne–never the eldest.”
“who says that you are the wisest?”
“because i am the one who conquered the murderer. scared him away. you were the murderer. i conquered you, the only other heir–therefore i take the crown.”
“if i murder you, i am king…” i murmur.
“ah, but the citizens know i am the winner of the queen’s game–the dice were rolled. the dice favoured me. if you take me now, who will listen to you? you may have the title of king, but not the position.”
“i don’t care. a quote: ‘it is better to be feared than to be loved, if one cannot be both.’ if they won’t love me, let them fear me.”
i plunge the sword into the final heir.
the final achievement.
- dhritithescratcher
-
Scratcher
100+ posts
dhriti's swc writing :)
you laugh with her. you smile with her. you talk with her.
you’re such a traitor.
she was mine. my best friend. i was the one who used to laugh with her, to smile with her, to talk with her.
you hated the both of us. you felt nothing but envy towards us.
you spat at us, you insulted us, you bullied us.
now, out of the blue, you’re holding hands with her, as if you’ve been best friends all along.
i was there for her when she sobbed, clutched at me. i was there for her through rain and shine.
now…our towering glass skyscraper is a mess of rubble, a mess of fallen architecture.
because you shot at it. drove us apart.
you’re such a traitor.
she was mine. my best friend. i was the one who used to laugh with her, to smile with her, to talk with her.
you hated the both of us. you felt nothing but envy towards us.
you spat at us, you insulted us, you bullied us.
now, out of the blue, you’re holding hands with her, as if you’ve been best friends all along.
i was there for her when she sobbed, clutched at me. i was there for her through rain and shine.
now…our towering glass skyscraper is a mess of rubble, a mess of fallen architecture.
because you shot at it. drove us apart.
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