That Day She Almost Gave Up

There were once two people
Of completely different views
Who had varied perspectives.
It was a girl and a boy.
The girl wanted to be like the boy
Cool, clever, intelligent, and-
At the same time-
Funny.
The boy could've been more like the girl,
Brainy, humble, secretive, and-
Somewhat-
sensible,
But didn't believe he could be so.

As you could probably see,
In the last passage,
The girl had an interest for this boy.
She only knew him for a single year.
Never knew him before
And will probably never meet him again
After the next year,
She made friends, at least,
But
There came an era in which she almost
Couldn't stand everything being so normal.
It made her derogatory
Insensitive towards many.

The boy remained the same,
Only a bit more secretive.
And more insensitive,
Like the girl.
He would only ever take a glance
At this girl.
But not another unless she spoke to him.
He would talk to this girl.
In fact,
He would talk to many girls.
It made him feel safe
Feel pleased with himself.

Then came a day.
The girl would follow the boy sometimes.
Most of the time, actually.
She wanted to learn more about him
So that she could possibly be
Socially acceptable.
This girl became more outgoing
But she lost some of her smarts.

That same day.
She would talk her best friend
She would ask what's wrong?
It would say
I'm giving up for the day.

This is made her think.
Her best friend was still very social
Had he given up, not for the day,
But on her?
She was struck with depression.
These thoughts clouded her mind
The rest of that day
Until..

The boy would keep his thoughts to himself.
He looked troubled to others
Others asked him, "What's wrong?"
He'd say, "Nothing."with a straight face.
The boy would still stay with his group
He'd still talk like there's nothing wrong.
Oh, what the girl would do
To make him realize that she knew
She knew how he really felt
How he really felt about his environment.
About the people around him.
She knew, and tried her very best to stay close to him,
Even if she knew she could mess up her own life.

At the end of that day, she decided,
"I'm giving up.
I'm giving up on everyone
I'll give up on him"
Now, she scared herself.
She felt like such a tension ball.
But then she listened.
She listened to the voices of her harsh past
And what they've done to her.
Then she looked upon the voices
The voices of her thoughtful old friends
How they knew how she felt.
And how they would never leave
No matter how she felt.

The next day, she would know.
The boy would know
They would both know what they would do
What they would do
Is not what their heart desires
But what could alter their lives
To satisfy
To please
and to free
themselves
From what could possibly be
Slowly
Hurting them.
To make it into something
Peaceful

The Day She Almost Gave U[
The Day He Almost Gave Up

Maybe

Maybe

By N. Archer


I never thought the words would come up, but I should've guessed. After all that happened.

"I want to go home." 

She said.

Maybe we shouldn't have messed with her life.

Maybe it was bad of us to tell her what was right, even though it was wrong.

Maybe the life she got was ruined by us.

"I want to go home."

"I don't want to come back"

"I'd rather die than let myself get sucked in by fake kindness."

She was everything a friend could ask for: Nice, trustworthy, playful, secretive, athletic, artistic, most everything. We ruined it for her. We obliviated her wish to become one of them. Because she is supposed to stay on of us.

Maybe she won't leave.

Maybe she will.

Maybe we'll be friends again.

"I hope you know what they did to me."

"What I did to them was because of you!"

"I never want to see or hear you again, you hear! I hope you never find happiness!" 

Those words. They strike harder than ever. She was torn after what she did. What we made her do.

The poor girl talks to herself now, she has no one to trust and no one to trust her. Her parents yell because they're cranky, but still love her to death at the end of the day. It's hard to believe she's still around to know that she is loved by someone, but she may end up with no one. Is it because of us?
Is it because of them? She will not talk to us. They will not let her back in. Because of us.

Because of me. - N.

Hatred

By A. K.

In dedication to those who have been wrongfully hated

One of the worst things a person could have towards someone. They're could be millions of good reasons to hate someone, and that person who is hated had never felt such pain. Hatred. Distrust. Hell for my friend. Oblivion is what I usually call it. By the time I found out what I had done, I wouldn't have realized that this was such a serious matter. Especially with some strange people.

Hatred. Destroys. Many. It destroys me every day because I am hated. I am hated so much, that I shouldn't be disrespected. Days must go by, and I feel I cannot go on throughout those days. Because of my hectic mistakes, I ruin everything I touch. It's not like a thorn, but a cat's claw in my palm.

I've been scratched by words.

Cut by disrespect.

Punched with retribution.

Hated by many.

Even if I try to apologize, they will never trust me.

Because.

And that's it. Just because. It's that one word that irritates me the most.

Because.

It just never has a definite answer. It just means that you don't care and you want to move on in life. But  I know that I can move on

Because

I can do so. He can do so. She can do so. They can do so. But many may not. They trust so many people. They believe in what they want to listen to. They need to hear the truth sometimes, and it may lead them to being wrong. I admit I am wrong all the time, but many cannot seem to build up the initiative to slap themselves in the face and realize "What the hell am I doing? I have to stop. Let go, for now, and I must fix this. No matter my consequences."

Hatred has its consequences. Know them before you take action- Childish Love & Spirits

Happy Valentine's Day

Valentines Day. Usually the most romantic day on Earth. I woke up this morning with a beaming face and messy hair. Today has to be perfect, otherwise everything has to not turn into a complete disaster. From here on out, or for now, this story shall be written in poem.

Love

I’m sorry for this

Hate

I’m sorry for crying

You

I’m sorry, but even so

I love you more than anything

The sun setting from the sky

The shadow of your hand

Touching mine

I attempted to grasp your hand

Indirect

But you let me

Direct

The days after today

Would you let me stretch out my hand?

So when before you go

I have a good memory

Of us

I look to you

Hoping for satisfaction

But your beautiful face

Is full of deep concern

I grasp harder

            You’re looking at a different girl

            I loosen

            You look at me

            “See you tomorrow”, he says

            He slips out of my grasp

            This time I let it go

            I thought

            Am I not good enough?

            I try to ignore it

            But without you

            I can’t live another day!

            I’m sorry

            I think

            No

            I am in love with you

            It may be

            The only thing I can do

            Or so I thought

            Boy, I fell hard

            You said my feelings

            Are overwhelming

            Even though you are my

Everything

I can’t keep you with me forever

Can I?

We fought the night after

“I’m not in love with you

Anymore”, I say

Yet the truth

Appears through my thoughts

And yet my dreams at night

And day

Are clouded my your warming smile

Please accept my feelings

I’m sorry

Your lovely heart isn’t mine

But someday

It will

I feel crossed with emotion

Do I love you for you?

Or is it just fading?

It’s never been this rough

Between me and you

You walk with me

Briefly you stop

“You’re a burden.”

What do you mean by that?

Please don’t throw me away

Please

Don’t leave…

I should’ve known from the beginning

You didn’t love me

It was silly of me

To believe that someone

As perfect as you

Was too good for me

But even so I

Love you!

Hey

Forgive me

Stay with me for now

You don’t have to love me

But I will

Make you come back

For one time

To love me

This poem symbolizes true determination through the hardships of love. I can’t wait to show this to my friends. As you know, there is a code that my crush has to crack. It’s definitely easy, so I wouldn’t be surprised if he solved it in a matter of minutes. I just hope he reads the poem that goes with it.

Fictional Survival Guides

Documentary Found: CLASSIFIED

Survival Guide to the Unknown of the World

            If you read my old diary, then you probably know most of this. First off, you can’t know about the new world UNLESS I am confronted about it. If I die, you have to ask me permission as a child at this specific date: February 14, 2013 thursday 2:10 pm. If the use of time travel hasn’t been deciphered yet, then you’ll have to communicate through the dead, which is obviously very tricky. If you have somehow communicated to me, then here are your instructions:

1). Have a dimenship ready with all the right materials and devices.

2). Your crew should be at least four or more people.

3). Have a log with you about your journey.

            To get to the new world, you have to use the dimenship to launch you and your crew at least 20,000,000,000 miles away from the Earth. Then you must circle your dimenship around the Earth, circling 10,000,000,000 miles from it in each circle. Also be careful of the moon. If you hit it, then your coordinates will mess up the course and you’ll plunge the universe into the likeliness of being sucked into a black hole of a destroyed sun. That is why I hired a faithful and skillful crew to help pilot my way to the world I had created. I was probably very close to hitting the moon, but I only got minor damage. Theses are the people you need to hire to help you through the hard times in space:

1). A navigator

2). Space pilot

3). Weapon specialist

4). Captain

5). Creator

            All the people in my crew were virus people, or people you don’t usually see. You actually have to know one ever since you were little.