Writing Prompt

Words on a page Paper under my fingers So many worlds So little place

I can’t fatgom What is awaiting me When I look at a book So simple, so plain

I am there and away When I plunge into a story I am not in my life I am traveling away

Catch the prompt as it flies over…

…

In the stale air of the morning, You are needed. An ache to be kneaded, In this broken dawning.

In the light of your kindness, I am bold, To never fold, Such passion seems mindless.

In the end of this day, We do rest, So I can attest, There is no decay.

Such is your care, We dream clear, To be freer, So all of us can bear.

…

Love you R

❤️

We all need to balance our lives… Hell becomes lesser, Happiness becomes paler, Sadness becomes bearable And tolerance becomes patience. Our outlets when it comes to coping with all the shit that life decides to throw at us are is our own. Whether it be the printed pages, the pixelated characters in a video game or the notes of our beloved music.

We hold dear to that which helps us through.

I cannot begin to even imagine what people have gone through to get where the are now because that would be wrong… nor can I share my own pain or suffering because it is not equal, more or even lesser than any other.

We cope because we found an outlet to get us through the hardest of times, when hell came, we held and knew we could get through.

To everyone and everything that helped and supported all of us.

Thank you

…

Love you R

Glasses shatter, screams echo. My sisters cry in the next room. I’m too scared to cross over. I’ll get caught. I’ll get hit.

I’m in my room again, I hear them screaming again. It’s normal. They’re divorced, yet somehow momma is still here. She sleeps here, because all her pill popping friends won’t let her sleep there.

Doors slam. It gets quiet. Then like an explosion, it starts back up without a warning. Tears pull in my eyes. Is momma hurting daddy? It would never be the other way around. He loves her too much.

She’s searching for those pills diabetics take. I already know because I was there when she found them the first time. Daddy was so, so mad at her.

Last week I saw her take a handful of coins from the savings jar in the kitchen. She took those to her friends and they gave her pills. I know because I saw. She locked me in the hot car for an hour and came back out with two guys and pills.

It’s okay, I had books. Hours of words flowing from the pages. I forced myself to learn when I was four. By the time I was seven and in second grade, I was reading on an fifth grade level.

By the time I was in fourth grade, I was reading on a high school level. Before I could read, I would cry over the books and try until I got it right.

Now I sit on my stuffed bed, mismatched blankets and stuffed animals all around me in the baby blue room, scratched, mismatched furniture and the thirty year old lamp giving me light at five in the morning.

“Come on,” mom pushes into the room throwing the book from my hands and slinging me out of bed. I try not to cry or show emotion, because weak people do that. I bite my lip as tears fill. “If you cry, I’m whooping you.”

I suck the tears back in and rush to the bathroom. I hear my smallest sister, only a few months old, getting beat because she’s crying. I shut the door that doesn’t have a knob and step on the green stool to see myself in the mirror.

“Rylee, hurry up. You have school sometime today. If the bus leaves without you, I’m not taking you,” she snaps. She comes into the bathroom and I cower. She takes a handful of hair and jerks my back to her stomach.

She yanks a brush through it and pulls it up into a ponytail. She turns me around, sighs angrily and pushes a hateful kiss onto my forehead. I smile sadly, scared of her bloodshot eyes and strong hands.

“Go to the bus,” she says. I’m confused. I haven’t ate. It isn’t time to go to the bus. But I know she wants me gone. So I go outside and sit on the ground. Tears come quick, fast and angry. My scalp hurts from her hands.

That day, I went to school hungry. My dad walked me down to the bus. The bags under his eyes visible. He knelt, hugged me tight and told me he loved me.

While he was away, my mom found his diabetic pills. She popped too many. She got her high. And she blew her brains out three hours later.

Lost in ink stained worlds adorned with adventure and intrigue. With a pages turn time moves, sifting through year’s of a humans loves and losses.

Forgotten be the wind whipped roof’s and clamorous shutters battered with storm’s ire. For Iv found love in a place of my control. Peace be, in that musty smell proffered by leather bound immortals.

Iv found my heaven. With no want of moral obligation. No expectation placed upon I, the reader, who becometh judge, jury and executioner.

So I ask of you, why do you read? If not to access knowledge unshackled, then why?

My fingertips caress the front of the book, engulfing them in a cloud of anticipation. As I leaf through every page, the words emit a faint whisper, bursting with the excitement of delving into a new world. Where will this one take me? I wonder to myself. There are no limits, to choose a new story is the feeling of freedom. As my eyes skim the ink, reading over line by line, I can feel the world around me start to fade out. Sounds become muted, the only voice I hear is my own narration, readers can journey as each scene morphs with every word. The adventures within each chapter come alive with the flipping of each page. There is nothing that can bother me when I am entranced in a book. To hold a book, is to hold all serenity in the palm of your hands.

“Hey, where’s your spell book?” Hermione would say. “Hurry up, you mighty bloke! We’ve got a test today!”

“Listen closely, here’s the plan…” Kaz whispers quietly. Nina laughs, claps her hands, “King Kaz, so high and mighty!”

Jameson Hawthorne winks at me, Sending butterflies up my spine. “Hey Heiress! Are you almost ready? It’s only a quarter to nine!”

Rowan Whitethorn takes me in his arms, And he whispers in my ear. He always protects me from harm, And chases away my fears.

Jude and Cardan, smiling at me “Isn’t she the best daughter?” “She’s so sweet and pretty!” I grin and say they’re the best mom and father

Keefe rides around on Silveny, “You like this, don’t you, Glitter Butt? Flying around all the time, so free!” He should know he always has my trust

Cinder waves at me with her cyborg hand From the comfort of her throne Kai is with her, hand in hand So I’ll leave them alone

Maxon and America share a sweet glance But Maxon turns and winks at me Pfft, like I’d ever have a chance

Pip and Ravi kill the bulletin board, Covered with red string They’re ready for something more, Like a wedding in the spring

Aaron Warner gnaws his lip, Melting my fragile heart But he has always had it— He’s had it from the start

Belly and Conrad are riding the waves, Jumping in and laughing hard I have to warn them to behave Because there’s no end when there’s a start

Percy and Annabeth, reading books Well, only Annabeth is reading… Percy’s admiring her looks

Scarlet and Tella twirl in their skirts Swaying to the music that’s playing Julian and Dante—well, there’s two flirts They’re both hot… I’m just saying…

I’m going to miss these characters! 🥰

I feel my heartbeat in my head, making its way down to my fingertips. I am running. The tunnel I am running in is collapsing, caving in on itself. Chunks of dirt and rubble rain down on me, showering my skin in an unwanted array of soot. Why did I think this was a good idea? Risking everything to steal this piece of junk, and for what? To be rich? To bring glory to my family? Well, forget all of that, I may as well already be dead. The small sack around my shoulder consisted of one thing; A deep blue gem. It was said to grant the user any wish. I cry as a few specks of dirt fly into one of my eyes, blinding me momentarily. But I keep running. I will never stop running. My legs are worked raw. I start to slow down, my body succumbing to muscle fatigue. If I stop now, I will surely die. Every part of my body will be buried in the ground, and dirt will fill my mouth and nostrils and inevitably make its way into my lungs, suffocating me. But that’s only if I don’t die on impact. I stumble on every single rock that passes under my feet. This, combined with the fact that it feels like my legs are about to fall off, make all hope inside me disintegrate. Death looms over my shoulders as I use up my last bit of energy. Running. Still running. “Maddie!” I hear a random voice call. My head snaps up, and I take a look at my scenery. Not a cave. Not a dirt tunnel. My backyard. The air smells of hotdogs and grill smoke. The sounds of adults talking and little cousins running around gleefully in the grass fills my ears. I look down. My hands are clutching the book so tightly my knuckles are white. My heartbeat slows, becoming more relaxed as I realize I’m not in a collapsing tunnel. I’m at a family Summer cookout. Again, my mother calls my name. “Maddie! Come on, fix a plate! Foods ready.” I breathe in the smells around me, get up, and go on my way, leaving my book in the grass behind me to be continued.

Before I could read I felt marooned On a planet too far from home Isolated without remembrance of dimensional origins connected Earth with its beauty and grace Homed a being of savage means Escape was my daily chore Until I opened my first book It wrote of planets, creatures and souls And then I knew I wasn’t lost Visions of places unknown Dropped like a payload to be scribed A lifetime of work until reclaimed Home is in every book Sheltered in the collective mind

You suddenly look up, bleary eyed. Your legs are stiff and your neck is bent just a little funny. You realize you’ve barely moved in hours, only to shift slightly or turn the pages of the book in your hand. Time has ticked by, but you were so engrossed in the story, so lost in the words. It’s much later than you planned on staying up, but you had to read just one more chapter, just get to that next page. You consider going through the rest, you’re so close, but grudgingly, you put the book down, noting your place. You switch off the light, and lay down. As you try to drift off your mind fills with the characters, the plot twists, the tension. You give up, sit up, turn the light back on, and continue your journey.