SugaryGoesRAWR
Well-known member
Jennifer Wilkinson was your average girl. Tall, sunny hair, emerald eyes, pale complexion. But she seemed to.. disconnect, call it if you will, herself from others. She, Jennifer Wilkinson, would sit in the corner. Why? She was a victim. A victim of the ordinary bully. The type that goes around, shoving people in lockers, stealing lunch money. The type that inflicted pain on all who go near him. This person, was a beast.
Everyone seemed to ignore the blonde girl, moping in the corner of the room. Act as if she was a ghost. Dust. Nothing. And yet, here she was, taking no notice of her classmates she was forced to be in the same room as her, as if they were a mere illusion. She was the girl, who sat by the window, and stared out, into eternity. When lunch break came, there was a tree that she would sit under. She did not care what weather it was, as long as she didn't talk to anyone.
Every month, her pain got worse, and her self-isolation grew, until she finally snapped. One day, she went from her spot, in her small room, and seemingly automatically drifted down the stairs.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
The noise her footsteps made on the stairs as she trotted down them, and made her way into the kitchen. She got the big knife from the knife holder, and took a deep breath. Her eyes had shown no emotion. This is what she wanted, what she had longed for.
Then, she plunged the knife into her chest and took it out.
As a scream was heard, and a knife dropped to the floor;
Jennifer Wilkinson, was no more.
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Yes, yes, I know. I was dark and all. But the last two lines were echoing around in my head for quite some time now, and I wanted to make use of them. Thus, this was born. Sorry, if it is bad. I know I will be critiqued. But, if it helps, right?
This is just a thingy ma-jig. Not a story.
Everyone seemed to ignore the blonde girl, moping in the corner of the room. Act as if she was a ghost. Dust. Nothing. And yet, here she was, taking no notice of her classmates she was forced to be in the same room as her, as if they were a mere illusion. She was the girl, who sat by the window, and stared out, into eternity. When lunch break came, there was a tree that she would sit under. She did not care what weather it was, as long as she didn't talk to anyone.
Every month, her pain got worse, and her self-isolation grew, until she finally snapped. One day, she went from her spot, in her small room, and seemingly automatically drifted down the stairs.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
The noise her footsteps made on the stairs as she trotted down them, and made her way into the kitchen. She got the big knife from the knife holder, and took a deep breath. Her eyes had shown no emotion. This is what she wanted, what she had longed for.
Then, she plunged the knife into her chest and took it out.
As a scream was heard, and a knife dropped to the floor;
Jennifer Wilkinson, was no more.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Yes, yes, I know. I was dark and all. But the last two lines were echoing around in my head for quite some time now, and I wanted to make use of them. Thus, this was born. Sorry, if it is bad. I know I will be critiqued. But, if it helps, right?
This is just a thingy ma-jig. Not a story.
