Around her were nothing but blank walls, white. The colour was sick, it didn’t signify anything. Not the earth or plant life, not the burning sun or a flickering candle, not the blushing of someone’s cheeks when they smile. Niamh had sat for weeks on end. She couldn’t recall when she’d first arrived here. It didn’t matter, it wasn’t like she had anyone to tell.

All she knew were four walls. And t...

pressure

metal edge pressing into my skin

my blood is like a currency

ten cuts pays off the shame

my veins are a gold mine

i want to dig until i see my bone

pinch the pad of my thumb

watch it drip down

and pull out a bandaid

red strings cut cross my arms

my wrists

my legs

tying thread

one stitch, two stitches

one cut, two cuts

bloody stains in between my fingernails

pepper coals stinging my...

Red, blood red. It soaks through her white dress like spilled ink. She sends me a wild look, eyes bloodshot as a dying doe, "Help me."

She huals Bret up, her small frame dragging his dead weight like a hay bale. The red solo cup in my hand crunches beneath my grip.

"Now, help me right now, Blake." She loses grip on him as I lose my cup, stale beer splashing on my clay mud boots, "I can't carry h...

Green is the colour of envy. It is not an innocent colour. Envy is a desire to be to be somebody or have something that you are not. when you are envious you are sick in the stomach and you’re just in your face turns green. Green is not Greta Thunberg it is not about environmentally friendly but it is the feeling of all of self pity inner hopelessness of longing belongs silent torment of anger ben...

What was that little something that changed your life for the better?

Was it a sudden realisation or a single event or a seed that grew within?

The catalyst itself might have been quite shocking, traumatic even, but had it not existed, you would not be the person you are today....

It is ironic, yet fitting,

To paint sorrow inshades of blue.

Blue for the countless tears that I’ve cried,

And for the sky that you flew off to.

But would it be appropriate,

To paint my heart pitch black?

Black for the night that swallows the sky,

For the moments we’ll never get back.

Black and blue, that rings a bell…

The old familiar hues.

The shades of a bruised and beaten heart,

The ...

**_Chapter 9

_**_Davian_

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All I can see as I walk is Maisie. The way she stares at her shoes, the way she’s always is holding her left wrist. Like she’s hiding something, it makes me wonder: How many of us really go through life without keeping a secret?

Maisie stops in the middle of the sidewalk, a house behind her. Her house.

“This is it,” she whispers, her blue eyes meeting mine.

I ...

**_Chapter 8

_**_Maisie_

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I never imagined my life could take this turn. Not just the fact that I got into an accident, not just that I lost my mother. But it’s him. My dad. The dad I used to dream up every night, the dad I always asked about. The dad I grew up thinking was dead.

And now he’s standing right there. Right next to me, talking to the doctor. His mouth moving, his che...

**_Chapter 7

_**_Davian_

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Am I crazy to think that she’ll be awake? It’s been two days since the crash, why should I expect her to be okay? It’s not completely impossible, especially if this is meant to be.

I suck in a deep breath as I lay in my dark bedroom. If this is meant to be? None of it’s meant to be, just because she was pretty doesn’t mean anything. Being pretty doesn’t...

(Just a warning. This chapter didn’t feel all that great. But I’m still posting it because I have a feeling it’s what I need to be able to take the story in the direction I want it to go. So thanks for the reads!! They mean the world to me!!!❤️❤️❤️❤️)

Chapter 6

Davian

It’s funny really. The fact that the first person I think of going to is Mom. But in reality, Mom is now Tommy. And Tommy . . . ...