Oddity đ«¶âš
A teen whoâs trying to find hobbies || I write in any genre so my page might look all over the place :)
Oddity đ«¶âš
A teen whoâs trying to find hobbies || I write in any genre so my page might look all over the place :)
A teen whoâs trying to find hobbies || I write in any genre so my page might look all over the place :)
A teen whoâs trying to find hobbies || I write in any genre so my page might look all over the place :)
Because of the feeling of a lengthy tongue exploring my face, I jolted awake, my eyes shooting open with shock. My arm immediately moved to wipe the moist saliva off of my cheek as my hand bolted out to grab my glasses. I put on the spectacles and nervously looked around, but once I looked up and saw who the culprit was, a small sigh of alleviation escaped my lips.
âOh- Arâon⊠You scared me to death.â
I said to the demon with a chuckle. It just stared at me with its blood-red eyes and its head tilted silently. I noticed it wasnât towering over me at the moment like it usually does, which made it less intimidating; I assumed it was crouched down on its knees.
âWhat do you need?â I questioned Arâon with a yawn, shifting my position to face it. It stuck his crimson tongue out for a moment before it replied with an extremely deep voice, sounding like the voice youâd hear after you die.
âI have brought you breakfast for tomorrow.â Then, Arâon pointed over to a strangerâs body that was lying unconscious on the ground, blood and bruises resting all over the poor person. Though the demon didnât care that it killed some innocent person as a proud tone was present in his words.
Meanwhile, my eyes widened with horror, and my face grimaced at the sight of the corpse. âArâon! Itâs nice of you to get me food, but youâve been living here for two weeks now; you should know by now that I canât eat people!â
Even though it couldnât show any emotions, I could tell that the demon was pouting at my reaction.
âFine,â it grumbled, âmore for me...â
âFine.â I sighed and placed my glasses back on the nightstand as Arâon stood upright and walked over to the corpse, beginning to feast while I tried to go to sleep once again. It was difficult to doze off because of its mouth loudly smacking the flesh as it chewed, and I had to wait fifteen whole minutes before it finished.
Finally, I was able to doze off, but the last thing I felt was Arâon lying on my bed next to me, its legs dangling from the end of the mattress. The demon wrapped its long arm around to cuddle me, the stench of ash and blood seeping into my nose; I didnât mind that much though. I was used to it at this point.
We either have a monster or a self-conscious being in us, One in public we never discuss, Hidden behind a thin curtain, To truly know if someone is two-faced to you is uncertain.
When alone, someoneâs likes could fully show themselves, Leaving their fake personality masks high on shelves, In solitude, thereâs no fear of not fitting in or tyrannizing, So they happily rest with the power of their true interests arising.
Another person could be secretly spreading evil, From acting immoral to participating in something downright illegal, Theyâll be wrongful and not have a single care, Because there is no eyes pestering them anywhere.
Itâs difficult to be completely sure, Of how many lies that you have ever had to endure, Itâs difficult to unveil oneâs true nature, Even though itâs possible, it would take a lot of labor.
We either have a monster or a self-conscious being in us, One in public we never discuss, But I wonder what hidden essence in you canât be seen, Youâre either awkward or sinister and thereâs no in between.
I roam my old, empty home, tormented by a horrible memory I literally canât escape from; the reminder of dying in the place I thought was secure made me want to sob with rage and grief, but I canât do anything about it now.
I knew the abode like the back of my hand, where all the wall plugs and faint carpet stains were located, but usually, I chose to stay in my bedroom, safe from everything that triggers my trauma. Of course, none of my old possessions are in here anymore, but either way, the gray walls and creaking floors keep me company. Today, I felt the strange desire to move around a bit and revisit the ghastly home Iâm bound to, and after the long war in my head, the impulses won once again.
Despite the rising anxiety and nostalgia in my translucent body, I began to venture in every room; everything looked so abandoned and dusty, yet that was no surprise to me. After a while though, it was time to go into the room I feared the most⊠the bathroom. __ __ __ When I stepped into the dull bathroom, a vivid evocation of my death tortured me; the stabbing, the suffering, the culpritâs sadistic gleam in his eyes, it was horrific to even think about. I looked around with apprehension, and as I did so, I noticed there was a strange reflection on the bathroom mirror when I passed by._ Why would there be a reflection of me when Iâm a ghost?_ __ And then, when I looked in the mirror, I was petrified with what I saw.. __
It was my corpse, staring right back at me with its undead eyes. My skin was paled and weathered, my hair disheveled and my mouth slightly ajar. But, what provoked me the most was the fresh stab wounds littered on my body that endlessly oozed. The sight made my eyes widen with shock and bolt out of the bathroom, all while my mind raced with thousands of questions, â_how is this even possible? Why is that my reflection?â _being a couple of them. Either way, I swore that Iâd never leave my bedroom or go near a mirror ever again; it was just too much for me.
Iris was two Monster Energy cans and a cup of coffee into her all-nighter, forcing herself to stay awake so she could finish writing. The bags under her eyes were darker than the night sky, and her body was slouched in her office chair. Both the sounds of the keyboard keys clicking under her fingertips and the thought of finishing the book was going to make her go insane.
She didnât know why, but she loathed what she was currently working on; it was the sequel to a thriller novel she wrote many months ago, one that did remotely well in the past. Iris remembers how much passion and enthusiasm she put into her previous works, how much money she saved to publish those books, but once she noticed she wasnât getting as far as she hoped, the profession felt mentally draining. The author believed that her dream job might be a waste of time, hard-earned cash, and creativity.
Not only that, but Iris thought what she was currently working on had an uninteresting plot, bland dialogue, and an overall boring feel; it felt like this addition to an already-decent story was an insult to the original. Iris might be thinking like this because her relationship with writing novels was breaking, but even though she knew she couldâve done better than what she wrote, there was nothing she could do. The deadline is tomorrow.
And so, the authorâs hands were groggily typing away on her keyboard, a yawn escaping from her mouth despite trying to focus. She would occasionally grumble an _âI hate this...â _under her breath whilst she worked, a tired, frustrated frown slowly growing onto her face.
But, a whole three and a half hours later, the book was completed, and she was able to rest and forget about her struggles for a while. Unhurriedly, Iris shut her laptop before plopping onto her bed, barely able to even stand upright. After a few minutes, she began to snore, her stressed body relaxing as she began to sleep.
Four months later, a month after the sequel was published, Iris was seated in a comforting cafe, frantically typing away on her keyboard. âDamn it..â she mumbled with irritation in her tone, âCan I even pay this?â
Suddenly, Iris feels two pecks on her shoulder, and as she turns around, she sees a woman in her mid twenties, politely smiling at her. But what the stranger was holding in her crossed arms made the authorâs eyes widenâŠ
âExcuse me, hiâŠâ The woman began, shifting the book Iris wrote in her arms, âMy name is Samantha. Youâre Iris Meadows, right?â Samantha questioned and opened the novel to the âabout the authorâ section, pointing to Irisâs picture.
Trying to hide her surprise and remain professional, Iris nodded while she adverted her eyes from the novel. âUh, yes. How can I help you?â
âWell, I just wanted to tell you that I love this book so far; I started reading it a week ago after I finished the first one.â Samantha complimented, her tone genuine.
Iris could only raise her eyebrows, desperately wanting to ask how she liked such a piece of shit novel, but she couldnât. âOh, thank you so much.â
âOf course!â Samantha chuckled with no hint of forcement in her voice. âCould I have an autograph, please?â
With a faint smile, Iris agreed and signed the pastedown of Samanthaâs book with a random pen found in her overstuffed bag.
âThank you! Keep writing!â Samantha said as her farewell before she walked off, leaving the writing by herself. For one, Iris thought it was weird that someone would even want to read her abomination of a sequel, much less enjoy it. Yet, it made her a little more hopeful at the thought of someone enjoying her writing and even asking for an autograph. Maybe sheâs actually doing something right.
(This is very slightly based on a true story of my experience with my Etsy shop, in terms of how it could feel like such a waste of time for me when my shop is barely getting any sales, but the little bits of compliments I get could make me feel more hopeful. Also I came up w something more heartfelt because itâs Christmas at the time of writing this! :D)
Nature is a beautiful place, A natural and soothing safe space, Home to all, Even when all of the trees fall.
The oudoors is where the animals frolic, From the cool grasslands to the warm tropic, Living simply and without care, Though itâs hard when their homes are no longer there.
The commercial need for homes is on the rise, Theyâre slaughtering too much of the environment and using the remains as supplies, Plastics are thrown into water, And the amount of pollution in the air is only getting broader.
Once nature is gone, thereâs no safe haven, Only homes for human civilization, But sadly, all the organismâs homes are gone, And the people are oblivious to what was really going on.
Nature is a beautiful place, A natural and soothing safe space, But it might be no more, And once you realize the state of the outdoorsy world it becomes something you canât ignore.
âYOUâRE DODGING MY DAMN QUESTION!â Officer Gabe shouted, slamming his shaking fists onto the already uneven table; the manâs expression was scowling and a vein was popping out from his forehead. âWhere the hell were you on the night Lona was murdered?!â
The case was close to becoming cold, and because the agency didnât want that to happen, they were frantically trying to get a lead. Gabe was oddly excited to end the search for the culprit behind Lonaâs death, but it might not seem like it at the moment due to his short temper.
Miloâs eyes narrowed with annoyance, his arms crossed over his chest as he pierced his gaze right into the officer. âIâm not dodging your question at all; Iâm telling you that I didnât do it. You have-â
The officer growled and spoke over the suspectâs words, his fists clenching and his body subtly stiffening. âThen why are you one of our top suspects, huh?!â
âI donât-â The officer cuts Milo off again.
âAll of our evidence is pointing to you, you know; you live right next to Lona, you two never liked each other, and you were the only person who had something against her!â
âNone of that is true, you fucking liar! Iâve barely even talked to her, much less hate her!â Milo quickly defended himself, leaning forward a bit and gritting his teeth while also contributing to the yelling. Now, the interrogation heating up into an argument, their retorts echoing off the cold walls of the dim interrogation room.
âEither way, you couldâve answered my damn question!â
âI donât need to! I didnât do it!â
âThen why are you getting defensive all of a sudden?!-â
âIâm not! Iâm just trying to say that you got the wrong fucking guy!â
âWe-â the officer paused for a moment, realizing that he was getting nowhere. With a sigh, he attempted to regain his calmness, rubbing his face in his hands as he tried to hide his shallow breathing.
âFine. Iâll be right back.â He said as he got up, not noticing Miloâs eye roll and irritated grumble.
Officer Gabe shut the door behind him, rushing to his desk before the other cops could question him about the interrogation. He swiftly opened his drawer to grab his anxiety medicine, popping a couple of pills into his mouth with a guilty expression; the only questions in his head were _âwhy the hell did I even do it?â. _ __
He hated being dishonest, especially when itâs about something as serious as Lonaâs murder, but he couldnât lose everything. He had to keep it going.
I am Happy, I am okay, Today is great. Itâs just like any other day.
Today is great, No pistol to my head, Iâm not a hostage, Iâm not being attacked until Iâve bled.
I am content, Iâm in good shape, The relaxation of today is nice, Thereâs no bruise throbbing on my nape.
I am safe, I promise thereâs no pain, I am alright, I have no need to complain.
How I word it might sound strange, But I promise Iâm alright. Iâve been feeling free, I have recently bathed in the sunlight.
I am happy, This definitely has no secret meaning. I might not last long, But Iâll be grateful that right now Iâm still breathing.
(This is my first poem!)
I jolted from my sleep, hastily sitting up from the feeling of a cold, slimy hand on my shoulder, yet when my eyes shot open and darted around, I didnât see anybody there.
â_Maybe my mind is making things upâŠâ _I thought to myself.
But, what I did see was the fact that I was sitting in a homey yet outdated living room that looked nothing like the one in my apartment at all. When I breathed in, a weird, thick musk instantly invaded my nostrils, making my nose wrinkle and my face grimace with disgust; the odor was a mixture of moth balls, sweat, and a hint of mold.
Confused about my surroundings, I slowly stood up and glanced around, dusting my back with my hands to get the grime from the scruffy carpet off of my pajamas.
âWhere am I?â
The room was small, dimly lit thanks to a occasionally-flickering lamp, and its walls were burgundy with victorian-looking patterns on them. There was a worn recliner and a couch, both made of leather, a wooden coffee table with dents and a coffee ring stain, and a large, brick fireplace that wasnât in use at the moment. Against the wall sat a towering bookshelf with what seemed to have about one-hundred old books, just settled there and collecting dust. As soon as my drowsy mind sensed that something felt off about this place, thatâs when I saw an issueâŠ
_There were no windows or doors. I couldnât escape if I wanted to... _ My eyes widened as a bit of anxiety shot through me, my head throbbing with numerous thoughts and concerns. I rushed over to one of the walls to bang my fists on it as roughly as I could, seeing if anybody could hear me, but, sadly, nobody could; I was trapped.
I tried to calm my heart rate, my body shaking with fear and uncertainty. How did I even get here? Am I dreaming? __ __ Then, a plan formed in my brain as soon as I looked around the living room again, an idea that might save me. I walked over to the fireplace, dropping to my knees and poking my head through the firebox, looking straight up. It seemed like I would have to do a ton of climbing, but since I wanted to get out of this god forsaken room, I had no choice.
I maneuvered my way up the chimney, climbing over the smoke shelf and keeping my legs on either sides of the brick walls to keep my balance. The higher I was from the living room, the more unlit it got, and the the scent of old smoke and soot made me cough and feel weak; so, in concern for my health, I began to move hurriedly.
Finally, I made it to the top, the only obstacle now being the chimney cap. Using my will to escape as determination, I aggressively shoved the piece a few times before it popped off. A grateful sigh left me, feeling fortunate that I could now focus on finding my way homeâŠ
Or, at least I thought I could⊠__ __ To my horror, everything around me was pitch black, and there wasnât a single soul anywhere, like I was in a void; the only thing I could see was the chimney I was sitting on and the roof and exterior walls of the living room. My eyes enlarged once again while I lost my breath for a moment, looking straight up at what should be the starry sky.
I hit myself vigorously, leaving a red mark on my face just to see if I could try and wake myself up from this nightmare, but unfortunately, it was a realityâŠ
I had to quickly head over to my clientâs house, since her voice was urgent and terrified over the phone; she even told me that she literally had to evacuate from her home due to the sudden infestation. Though I remained professional for the sake of my job, it was amusing to hear the woman so scared over a small bug, or maybe I just feel that way because Iâve dealt with insects for over ten years. Surely it wasnât that bad.
It was a quiet, five minute drive before I finally made it to her cozy, small home, and I parked my truck right next to her white Nisan. As I climbed out of the vehicle, woman walked up to me, shaking and fidgeting with her hands. She looked to be in her thirties, which made everything more amusing to; sheâs a grown adult.
âOh, thank you for coming so quickly!â She said with relief, even though her mannerisms were the opposite, âYou really need to kill those bugs for me! Theyâre ruining my home!â
âIâm sure it isnât bad, miss. Everythingâs gonna be alright.â I reassured her with a chuckle, grabbing all of my tools from the truck as we interacted with each other.
In the corner of my eye, I saw the woman rapidly shake her head, her eyes widening slightly from my assurance. âNo- you really donât understand- thereâs holes in my walls from those stupid bugs, and they came out of nowhere! And itâs like theyâre millions of them!â
Even though she warned me, I kept my ignorance. âYeah, but itâs all an easy fix, okay? Stay out here while I go and exterminate them.â
I walked off, not listening to the words the client uttered afterwards. I stepped inside the house, glancing at my surroundings. It was a clean home with a rustic look, and its tidiness alone made me deduce what type of bug it might beâŠuntil I saw itâŠ
âWhat the..â
The many, rough holes in the wall that were about the size of a dime; it was strange to even see them there with the context that this is a bug infestation. With a furrowed brow, I walked into the kitchen, glancing around only to see more holes. But when I decided to examine the other side of the room, my eyes widened as I noticed one of the cabinets over top of the oven were ajar, along with the âbugsâ that were scurrying around..
âWhat is that?!â
They were the most grotesque creatures Iâve ever seen! The bugs had the thick, hairy legs of a tarantula, the vile body of a cockroach, and the head and neck of a rat in miniature form! There was even a small but razor-sharp tooth that hung from their mouths, slightly explaining the holes in the wall.
With hunger, the âinsectsâ were beginning to dart towards me, and my hands hastily fumbled to grab the hose of my sprayer. Unfortunately, it was all futile because once I finally pulled the triggerâŠI realized that it didnât even hurt the pests.
The verminâs speed only increased the more I sprayed, making me shout and bolt out of the kitchen, into the living room, only to be cornered. My brow was dampening with nervous sweat while my eyes darted around, my mind thinking fast. As a quick choice, I started aggressively stomping on the âinsectsâ, knowing that my strength was much more powerful than a bugâs. Yet, itâs my luck, so it did nothing but make the crawlers multiply! What were these things?!
Some of the âbugsâ even began to crawl into my cargo pants, biting my skin like I was a delicious steak. It felt like a billion needles were stabbed into me and it made me cry out in pain. The torture of the pests carried on for what felt like forever until I suddenly blacked outâŠ
I groaned as I awoke, glancing around while trying to get my head back to normal.
ââŠWhere am IâŠ?â
The client from earlier was standing in front of me next to a doctor; they watched me wake up, the doctor speaking when he saw my eyes mostly open.
âYouâre in the hospital, sir.â
The woman said with a small smile while the doctor kept his serious expression.
âWe have treated your wounds, even though some caused you a couple of infections, and you are going to stay here for a few days, so we can check on your health.â
The doctor added with an expressionless tone, but his words made me raise my eyebrows; my mind was still trying to process the fact that a bug Iâve never seen before caused all of this.
âWhat..even were those thingsâŠ?â I mumbled. The woman answered my question and placed her hand on her arm, her face grimacing at the thought of those roach-rat-tarantula hybrid
âWe donât even know yet⊠but one of the spider-things were sent to a entomologist, and because no one knows how many are in my home, Iâm not going to be living there for a whileâŠâ
It still felt surreal to me that this even happened, and I had so many questions for everything, but I knew one fact; I was definitely going to quit my job after this. What I saw was definitely that bad.
It was an awkward dinner, and the mood of the room was tense. Silence enveloped the entire dining room with the exception of the shiny, metal silverware softly clanking on the glass plates. Mira was glaring at Harriet from the other side of the wooden table, a noticeable scowl on her face. Meanwhile, Harriet ate her plate of food quietly, glancing away from her angry wife while trying to focus on the cooking she missed so much. Of course she felt guilty for leaving Mira behind, but it had to be done.
âSoâŠâ Harriet began, pausing her words to chew and swallow some of the dinner before continuing, âWhat did I miss when I was gone?â She asked lightheartedly with a small, forced smile, hoping to somewhat ease the ambiance of the moment.
The glower on Miraâs face deepened at the question, her hand beginning to clutch the end of the wooden table with a tight grip.
âDo you really have the fucking audacity to ask me that?â Mira barked, her question making Harriet sigh.
âI was trying to start-â
âJust shut up and eat.â
It became quiet afterwards, and Harrietâs mind was racing with thoughts as she stared off to the muted-blue wallpaper. âWhat do I even say to her if she clearly doesnât want to talk to me?â She thought to herself before she cleared her throat and spoke again.
âLook, I get youâre angry at me, and you have every right to be upsetâŠbut Iâm here now, and I really want to make it up to you. I-â
Before Harriet could finish her apology, Mira snapped and slammed her fists onto the table with a loud thud, the silverware clanking against the plates to the point where it was ear-splitting.
âYou faked your death, left me alone for five fucking years in mourning, and now you decide to waltz back in here like nothing happened at all! How the hell am I supposed to accept your stupid apology when you left me?!â She retorted, and the fact that Mira brought up her âdeathâ made Harriet wince.
âYeah, but- I really had no choice, Mira. I was in danger.â
The woman tried to justify herself, keeping a calm, serious face so she wouldnât make the conversation worse.
âSo? You couldâve hidden here until it was okay! You didnât have to leave me alone!â
Mira said angrily, her face flushed red and her hands on her hips.
âIâve tried to tell you that you shouldâve quit your job! I was trying to tell you that itâs too dangerous for you! None of this wouldâve happened if you listened to me for once!â
The womanâs shoulders slumped when she noticed her wifeâs expression, and she looked away as she yelled at her.
âI-I couldnât quit that easily, and you know that. Iâm not arguing about this anymore; I just want to move on from it and-â
âDo you really think I could forgive you so goddamn easily?!â Mira shouted, leaning forward and pointing a finger right in the womanâs face, âYouâre lucky that I even let you back in my house and didnât leave you to rot in the streets!â
âBoth of us know that you wouldnât do thatâŠâ Harriet thought, slowly moving her hand to rub her neck with a small grimace as she let her wife continue her protest.
âWords literally canât even describe how much you hurt me; you stabbed me in the damn back and like made me waste so much energy on you! The fact that you couldnât even trust me enough to tell me that you were okay until now is such a shitty move on your part, Harriet!â
With tears that slowly formed in her eyes as she yelled and scowled with rage, Mira finally cracked. She stormed out of the dining room, stopping up the stairs before slamming her bedroom door.
âNo, wait!-â were the only words Harriet could utter, but it was too late; she was gone.
Once again, there was a strained silence throughout the entire house, which allowed Harriet to recollect her thoughts. As she sat at the dining table alone with her head in her hands and a frown on her face, Harriet contemplated about how absolutely horrible she felt for what she had to make her wife endure, even though she was just trying to save herself from someone who was threatening to take her life away. She messed up, even though she had no choice but to lie and fake her death. Maybe Mira was right about her job being way too dangerous for her, yet thereâs nothing she could do about it anymore.
âWhat the hell am I supposed to do to make her feel better?â was the biggest question in her mind that kept repeating itself as she stared down at the table with empty eyes. Ultimately, she decided to give Mira some time to herself before speaking to her again.
About an hour later, Harriet wiped her hands off with the marshmallow white kitchen towel that hung from the oven handle, glancing around at the work she had done with a faint, hopeful smile. She had just finished cleaning the entire kitchen for her wife as a way to show that sheâs does care about their relationship; It took her mind off of things for a while, and it filled her with a sense of nostalgia and bittersweet positivity to explore the home she hasnât lived in in five years.
But then, the time had came, and with a deep breath, Harriet began to slowly climbed up the stairs, the boards creaking under her feet. Her hand was gripping onto the railing as her body tensed slightly, not knowing what to expect. Once she made it to her wifeâs bedroom, she turned the doorknob and peeked her head in.
Miraâs head immediately turned to face the door when she heard it open, her teary, red eyes narrowing as she saw who was there.
âWhat the hell do you want?â She interrogated, shifting her seated position on her queen sized bed.
Harriet rubbed her arm and glanced away for a moment. âW-well, you know⊠I just wanted to tell you that I cleaned up the kitchen for you.â Harriet stuttered and sighed when she saw Mira roll her eyes, knowing that she had done the bare minimum for her wifeâs forgiveness.
âYouâre acting like I want you around right now.â
âObviously you do, or else you wouldnât have let me inside the house or fed me a dinner. And I really want to solve this damn problem already.â Harriet tried to sound firm, even though her mannersms werenât matching with her tone at all. Getting irritated again, Mira started to retort.
âOh my god, just shut-â
âDo you even want to save our marriage?â
When Harriet cut her wifeâs words off, there was a a long silence that followed as Mira was thinking to herself, a tiny sniffle coming from her due to her previous tears. Just like Harriet, she had been pondering to herself about everything while sitting in her bedroom, analyzing how she felt when all of the initial anger and tears left her. Then, she decided to come cleanâŠ
âS- Yeah, I do, even though you make me so goddamn pissed, Iâll try to give you a second chanceâŠâ
With a bit of surprise, Harrietâs eyebrows raised, genuinely expecting this conversation to go south. Her mouth opened to speak, but then Mira talked over her.
âI want you to actually listen to me and communicate with me whenever something is wrong. You canât just ditch me; like, the least you couldâve done was tell me that you had to fake your death and leave for a while.â She added, making Harriet nod with a tiny smile.
âOf course, I promise I wonât let you down again, okay?â
A skeptical sigh escaped Mira, but she nodded her head as well
âOkay, fine..â
Many months passed, the relationship between Harriet and Mira gradually healed, which took an enormous amount of effort. Their relationship was much more open than before, and as her old occupation still thought she was dead, she could find a new, safer one to support the two. Once their marriage was mostly mended, they lived together with contentment.