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Daily Deviation
Daily Deviation
October 22, 2013
~SpiderwebWisher tells the story of an entire relationship in the vignette Sixty-one Seconds.
Featured by neurotype-on-discord
Suggested by MYSTERYTIAMAT
Literature Text
It took him sixty-one seconds to die. I counted.
The beach was only a walk away from there, and the sun was beating down on our heads and our hats. We hid under the trees and laughed. We were in love, if that's what love meant. We hugged each other, as we walked down the burning pavement in loud flip-flops and ripped shorts.
We were so close. I didn't know that that would be the last time I'd ever see him alive.
I was nervous when I told him, that if we were really in love, we would be together forever. He giggled softly, and told me forever was a long time. I knew that of course. It was too good to be true, I thought. He told me not to think about forever, and we sat on the park bench, overlooking the beach. I leaned my head on his shoulder and I felt his smile light up above me, and I smiled too and closed my eyes. Everything was perfect, that moment there, it felt like forever, a good kind of forever.
We didn't notice the shouting. We were too in love.
Love can do that. Love is blinding, it's distracting. We stood up, for that split second when we saw the people running and things did become loud. Louder, and louder, but we didn't feel scared, we were too confused. I didn't see it, I only turned around in time to shout his name. I couldn't explain the emptiness in his eyes when it happened, the confusion and horror that made up his face. He fell backwards and I caught him in time, but it didn't help him.
He was in pain, I had no way of helping him. It was horrible.
The red gushed out of his chest, I could see it, and I was afraid. I was horrified. Where was our forever? There was something silver, glinting and gleaming deep within his chest; where the bullet had hit him. It was stained with red and purple. I didn't know what to do. He breathed heavily, and I tried to comfort him, and I started counting in my head.
He was barely breathing now. I didn't know what to do.
The people did not care for me, they rushed past me and ran away, and the moment died away as they ran, the sun set lower and lower. It happened very quickly. I held him to my heart, I told him not to leave me. Not to go. That we truly were in love, and that I didn't know how things could've gotten so, so wrong. I was not ashamed of screaming. He didn't mind. He said he loved me, I loved him. It had gone a deep gray, a dark black, it had turned to nothingness.
How would my life continue? How would I continue?
He said nothing else. He just smiled, and he closed his eyes and leaned back. The red stained my shirt, and I didn't care. He didn't answer me. He was gone. I screamed and I stopped counting in my head.
It took him sixty-one seconds to die.
This wasn't what we meant by
...forever.
The beach was only a walk away from there, and the sun was beating down on our heads and our hats. We hid under the trees and laughed. We were in love, if that's what love meant. We hugged each other, as we walked down the burning pavement in loud flip-flops and ripped shorts.
We were so close. I didn't know that that would be the last time I'd ever see him alive.
I was nervous when I told him, that if we were really in love, we would be together forever. He giggled softly, and told me forever was a long time. I knew that of course. It was too good to be true, I thought. He told me not to think about forever, and we sat on the park bench, overlooking the beach. I leaned my head on his shoulder and I felt his smile light up above me, and I smiled too and closed my eyes. Everything was perfect, that moment there, it felt like forever, a good kind of forever.
We didn't notice the shouting. We were too in love.
Love can do that. Love is blinding, it's distracting. We stood up, for that split second when we saw the people running and things did become loud. Louder, and louder, but we didn't feel scared, we were too confused. I didn't see it, I only turned around in time to shout his name. I couldn't explain the emptiness in his eyes when it happened, the confusion and horror that made up his face. He fell backwards and I caught him in time, but it didn't help him.
He was in pain, I had no way of helping him. It was horrible.
The red gushed out of his chest, I could see it, and I was afraid. I was horrified. Where was our forever? There was something silver, glinting and gleaming deep within his chest; where the bullet had hit him. It was stained with red and purple. I didn't know what to do. He breathed heavily, and I tried to comfort him, and I started counting in my head.
He was barely breathing now. I didn't know what to do.
The people did not care for me, they rushed past me and ran away, and the moment died away as they ran, the sun set lower and lower. It happened very quickly. I held him to my heart, I told him not to leave me. Not to go. That we truly were in love, and that I didn't know how things could've gotten so, so wrong. I was not ashamed of screaming. He didn't mind. He said he loved me, I loved him. It had gone a deep gray, a dark black, it had turned to nothingness.
How would my life continue? How would I continue?
He said nothing else. He just smiled, and he closed his eyes and leaned back. The red stained my shirt, and I didn't care. He didn't answer me. He was gone. I screamed and I stopped counting in my head.
It took him sixty-one seconds to die.
This wasn't what we meant by
...forever.
Literature
Foresight
Debra Mae was an astonishingly good programmer.
Her code always worked correctly the first time, and she never missed a deadline. Her workspace was immaculate, but curiously devoid of personal effects. No framed pictures, no toys, just her small collection of pens lined up according to color and an inbox for the occasional old-school paper input.
Her computer was equally immaculate. Nothing extra on her desktop, no stray icons. If one peeked at her browser history there’d be nothing there but work-related google searches and company stuff.
She dressed neatly but very plainly. I suspected she had four dresses in her wardrobe an
Literature
how to become a writer
have parents that separate
when you’re in high school;
a father filled with unused anger
and a mother too busy to care.
pretend it doesn’t hurt.
let your friends treat you
like dirt;
after all,
everything is your fault.
listen to their problems with a fake smile
all the while crying out because
everything hurts and no one can see.
press a knife to your skin,
but be too cowardly to
draw your own blood.
fall in love with people
who could never notice you,
because you’re
just. not. good.
enough.
chew on the multicolored
strands of your hair.
(you can’t stop runni
Literature
Lessons for Today
Today in math class, they would be learning how to factor quadratic equations. Miss Gracie, called Mrs. G by her students, knew this because she had the lesson planned out meticulously across three-and-a-half sheets of college-ruled notebook paper, which sat neatly in a folder before her. She knew because, like with all her lessons, she had recited it in front of her dressing mirror last night, right before bed.
She glanced at the clock. Ten minutes left until class. Its tick, tick, tick was the only sound in the room.
She looked around the room. Nothing but the equation charts that she covered with long sheets of colored paper during tests
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© SpiderwebWisher 2013
I wrote a short version of this story, but a deviant named JanaRaf told me she would like the story to be longer and meatier. Requested by ~JanaRaf This is probably the most depressing story I've written so far, but only because I was feeling depressed when I wrote this.
I wrote a short version of this story, but a deviant named JanaRaf told me she would like the story to be longer and meatier. Requested by ~JanaRaf This is probably the most depressing story I've written so far, but only because I was feeling depressed when I wrote this.
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The first line caught my attention, but it was the emotion that kept me here. This was so beautifully written. I love how sweet and innocent she seems, and though in love the boy is level headed, he seems to understand that a promise forever isn't one to take lightly and is happy to live in the moment. The only thing that tripped me up while I was reading was "how things could've gotten so, so wrong", I feel like it might flow better with gone or something similar? You have some amazing lines in here that really drew me in though. "love can do that. Love is blinding, it's distracting", just typing that makes me tear up. This is a beautiful piece.