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A new hostWriting prompt- mental illnesses are beings that attach onto humans, causing them the illness. You are one of these beings in a hospital, looking for a baby to attach to.
It wandered around the maternity ward. Looking for the perfect host. It's kind needed to attach to a human child to survive & in return the child's mind would grow differentely than it would have if it wasn't a host for one of It's kind. But it could only stay in one host for a certain amount of time once the host was fully grown It would have to find a new host otherwise it would wither away & die.
It came across a small female baby, brown hair, blue eyes, traditionally beautiful. Yes this one would make an exceptional host. It transferred from the aging male (Who had been It's host previously.) into the young, new female who would be It's new host.
A few hours later the newborn child was taken home by a happy couple, oblivious to the fact that their beautiful child would be mentally disturbed for the res
Falling LeavesFalling Leaves
Autumn brings change. Summer turns to fall, green turns to brown, and suddenly every vacant building has been converted into a costume shop.
I sighed as I walked past the third "Spirit Halloween" store so far on my journey back to my house. I had just stopped at a food bank to pick up my weekly grocery allowance, which was completely contained in the four small plastic bags I carried in my hands.
An elderly woman hobbled next to me, heading towards the large gated woodland directly ahead of us. For her age, she appeared surprisingly spry and eager to get where she was going. When she got to the large gate, however, she halted, seemingly confused. Since I had to go through the area to get home I casually told her, "I got this," and punched my three five digit access code into the keypad, unlocking the large iron gate and allowing both myself and the woman to enter.
Once inside, I lost track of the old woman, but a young boy no older than seven years had snuck in right beh
Old Houses Have Old SecretsOld Houses have Old Secrets
The house loomed out of the shadows cast by the setting sun, a dark and dreary patch in an otherwise vibrant neighborhood. Ancient maple trees and a tall metal fence covered in ivy surrounded the property and isolated the house, as if it were quietly shielding itself from the liveliness of its neighbors. Despite its age, it showed few signs of damage and looked in better condition than some of the old, still inhabited houses sitting along the same street. It had been there for as long as I could remember, and the story that came with it had been told for just as long. As I searched along the base of the house, looking for the hidden key by the light of my flashlight, my mind wandered back to the house’s story.
Fifty years ago, this house belonged to a wealthy family. The Brownsons were constantly busy and usually out of town, so they hired a nanny to care for their child. While they were gone, both t
Only in Tomorrow Only in tomorrow... Our days will start to fade as the night appears. The darkness will appear and take over the world.
What can stop appearance of eternal dark? Will it ever dessapear?
Only think that can stop it is light, but only if we all united together to be as one. Some will choose to live in eternal darkness and to hide behind the F.E.A.R that will control the masses- their mind will no longer be unique their minds will be as one, no one will have their own opinion or in other words everyone will be scared to be himself/herself. But, the strongest ones, or as I refer to them as Wild Ones, will rise up from the ashes in which F.E.A.R left them in and will fight against the believes that are put in the heads of masses. Wild Ones will never be scared, they're going to supass the Pitts that they're put in and run freely through valleys that most of F.E.A.Rs servants won't. They're put themselves in danger just to be themselves and to have some fun.
Stitches and duct tapeStitches might hurt at first
but in the end
they hold you together a whole lot better than duct tape.
TSC - The Hayaana (Nihartha and Tahartha) - 1 of 2The Shaqrrah Chronicles
The Hayaana (Nihartha and Tahartha) – Fragment 1 of 2
By Kim Satyakirti
La Laalah al Hayaana
Moukalytha, you, the embodiment of waking.
Meadows green, elements calm and mild.
Leaving the shelter, shackles finally breaking.
Naydaagha, you, the embodiment of motion.
Meadows golden, elements bold and searing.
Hunting and dancing, performed with devotion.
Himapaata, you, the embodiment of grief.
Meadows vanish, elements violent and cold.
Hiding, enduring, in Shaqwa we believe.
*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***
The “La Laalah al Hayaana” was written by Mahbé Rouhaani al-Shaqwa, and speaks of the three phases the Hayaana goes through to complete its cycle.
What is this cycle,
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Blood BrothersBrookie always holds my hand when we cross the street. She's never given a reason for it, she just does it. It's become this unspoken rule with us that whenever we cross the street together, she slips her hand in mine and I lace my fingers through hers and we walk hand-in-hand until we reach the other side and she drops her hand and we both wipe our palms on our jeans. Brookie's a little scared of crossing the street. Her poppa died in a car crash when we were six. He was a pedestrian. She's never gotten over it.
Brookie is my best friend going on sixteen years now, which is pretty impressive considering we're both sixteen. We don't have some cute little story about how we were born in the same hospital on the same day or about how our mothers were best friends long before they were pregnant with us and somehow passed on that bond while we were still in utero. No, Brookie and I met the same way ever
MercyOh sweet God how the grassland
ignites in moonlight tonight
I must thank you for creating
her tangled fingers' slow pace
through the handsome rain Her
trochaic kinesthesia to rhythms
in Stravinsky's The Rite of
Spring Is this how you meant
for us to love you Yahweh
Tumbling clumsily down hills
of sheets into perpetually
immutable silence I could love
you like that I think I've been
practicing on this Savanna
for days and months Lost in
her crystal canvas Rolling crests
and troughs And when she touches
me Oh fair Lord I'm dragged into
your city past Gethsemane's
pulsing green and gold
Please hold us together
under this luminous stretch
Oh Father We are live
unclothed Our reflections awash
with the skin of your sun
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A two-time Community Volunteer for the deviantART Related category, Anne is well-known as a positive, helpful force. She is the community's resident expert when it comes to CSS (Cascading Style Sheets), and her personal gallery offers a wide variety of tutorials for new and experienced coders alike. In addition, each winter she hosts a calendar project encouraging members to create Journal designs for all to use, bringing more creativity to the community.
It is with immense gratitude that we acknowledge Anne as the recipient of the Deviousness Award for October 2014. Read More