I am the backup friend the one they think of at the end the one friend whose always there the one that really truly cares only here to comfort my friends when they are at their loose ends but that’s all i can do without me they would be like “who are you?” if I don’t text back my existence will lack I am the back up friend without me they don’t know where I went

I have held many things in my hands and have lost them all. I once held a crown, a kingdom, and love. These halls once filled with laughter, now silent. A king once strong and whole, now shattered, insane. The people throng around outside my empty castle. “My prince, give us aid.” “Save us my prince.” “Oh prince, help us.” They clamor for answers and they accuse. “You stay in your castle, your palace of gold. Do you care nothing for your people? You leave us to suffer and you leave us to bleed. This plague consumes us while you fatten and feed.” They don’t understand, here is where it began. I was the first to see the bodies. I was the first to close glassy open eyes. I was the the first to be broken. Or perhaps just the first to lie. Can’t they see how I try. Oh, I know it’s not enough. If my love wasn’t enough for my family then how could it be enough for them. I’ve tried to hide the bodies, disregard the ghosts in the hall. No, of course I still hear them in their rooms and in the halls. Blood stained hands, not their blood but mine. For as much as you take and you take and you take, and expect me to be fine. I am your ruler. I am your prince. I bear your burdens. I hurt just as much as you do. I weep and I bleed and I burn. I carry the burdens. I swallow the pain. I learn to live with the curse. If I could I would sacrifice myself. Throw myself off that cliff. I would care the pain of the world. Tear myself apart. Take on your tears, your sorrow, your anguish, so that you could be just okay. For what am I but an extra. A spare. A jinx. If this blood dripping down on the marble could atone then let it be known. I’d bleed and I’d bleed and I’d bleed rose red on frozen stone. Blood mixed with the water, won’t someone make it alright. A faint hope of tomorrow. A joy so far away. I close my eyes and I here you. I go quietly into the night.

A/N This is a bit of a character study on a character in a book I’m writing. In the story a plague/curse in the kingdom that causes excruciating pain and hal​lu​ci​na​tions. The royal family has taken the brunt of the curse and my character is the only one still alive/ not completely insane. The people think that he is removed and aloof from everything when in truth he suffers the most.

I held so many things in my hands, A two-year-old’s hand as they guide Me through the house running and laughing

A pencil after the long nights of studying To get through school.

A person to hug my family my friends

A warm cup of coffee and a Bible on Sundays

Boxes full of food to donate to the poor Cause God knows they need more

Iv held sticks to burn in a fire

Iv held a newborn baby who’s never experienced love

Iv held my cat in my arms soft and purring

Iv held a mattress while running to my barracks

Iv held a cold metal gun trained to shoot with a steady hand

Iv held the roughness of a braided rope while doing drills

My hands have been scraped bloodied and callused

My hands have been cut by glass Torn by cement

My hands have held my comrade in my arms As they take their last breath begging for me to help them when all I could do was calm their fears

My hands have held a leather bound Bible Cut from the pages

My hands have held many things,and I have lost them all

there used to be six of us now i’m alone the memories fade into dust like the marrow of my bones

there used to be six of us but One held her head too high too proud, too vain she left us to die

there used to be six of us but Two was a monster too angry, too violent he let us wonder

there used to be six of us but Three cried real bad too loud, too emotional gone, was what he had

there used to six of us but Four whispered too much too jealous, too nosey she always stayed in touch

there used to be six of us but Five tried to stay too kind, too patient there was no other way

there used to be six of us now Six sits and writes too distant, too preoccupied she wishes she’d put up a fight.

I tried not to look sad as I forced a smile. People pass me, everyday, almost like I am nothing. Like I mean nothing, and like I’m not human. Which at this point I’ll believe. I push open the doors of the school, the warm air comforting me, after I had been sitting in my history class, feeling like I was in a freezer. Thousands of kids rush past me, climbing into cars. I can almost picture it. Me smiling for real, waving happily as my best friend gets in her car. Or his. At this point I’d be happy to have at least someone who will speak a word to me. I’m starting to think that it’s a dream meant just for dreaming and not living. I sit down on a small bench, under a tree. The wind blows the leaves gently making that perfect sound, that could calm me down after anything. I watch as people pass me, most of them in groups some alone. I bet it doesn’t feel like how I feel though. Even right now, when I’m surrounded with people, I feel completely alone. At home when I have good laughs and happy moments, they always end with that dreaded feeling of loneliness. And the reason for it I wish I knew.

I hear a small sigh as someone falls onto the bench next to me. I look over, getting everything I need to know about him in one look. He has black hair, blue eyes, not pale blue, just blue. It’s reminding me of blueberries. He has a black back pack, like mine. And he looks tired, which means his day could only have been worse than mine. He’s alone, which means he’s like me, without any friends or they’re just gone at the moment. It’s definitely the second one, you’d have to be totally crazy like me to not have friends. “Bad day?” I ask, his eyes meeting mine. He nods, “Yeah.” I nod back my eyes still on his. “How was yours?” He echos my question. I shrug, “Pretty much the same as normal. Okay.” He nods again, “What’s your name?” Wow, I think. Haven’t heard that for a while. Not since like third grade and I’m in ninth. “Maya. But it’s spelled Mia.” His lips do something almost like a smile. “What’s yours?” I say. “Damon,” he repiles, his smile growing. His eyes leave mine for a second, I can follow them without looking. He’s probably looking at his passing friend. “You know,” he says, his eyes coming back to mine, “It seems crazy that one kid could be surrounded by thousands. And at the same time there’s kids who aren’t.” This is a first, meeting someone without friends. Like me. I smile this time for real, “I know. It seems so unfair. I used to have friends. Well one friend. She moved away. In seventh grade. I haven’t made a friend since.” He smiles even on a topic that’s kind of pathetic. But I understand , meeting someone like us seems impossible. From where I’ve been standing these past few years, everyone has a friend. “Same, expect he didn’t move. He was hit, three years ago.” Now my life seems like a breeze, I lost my friend but not like lost, lost. Damon lost, lost his friend. I can’t even imagine what that’s like. Probably awful. He chuckled quietly, “There’s nothing you can say. And it’s fine.” I nodded, my eyes probably showing how much I wish there was something to say. My cat had died. And I counted him as a best friend, but sometimes I feel like I use that as an excuse to make my life seem worse. And the reason for that I don’t have an answer to. But it did hurt when he died, I felt a pain in my heart. A dull feeling. It was the worst pain I’d ever felt. Worse than spraining my ankle. “It’s been okay,” Damon contained as a kid screamed as he ran past. “The first year was so hard I almost stopped trying. The second I did stop. And now I’m here trying again.” I’m glad. Is what I wanted to say, but that seemed wrong. So I didn’t say anything. Which was appropriate in this situation. Damon defiantly understood the shock. If anyone did he had to. “I understand,” I finally said, “All of it. I’ve held lots of things in my hands, and lost them all.” Damon gave me a small smile his eyes looking over my shoulder again, “Exactly.” “You have to go,” I said when his eyes followed a black car. He nodded, “Yeah. But I’ll see you tomorrow. Bye Mia.” He stood up looking over his shoulder as he got in the car. I waved, letting a smile cover my face. A smile that I couldn’t get to leave. And I knew that was okay, I caught his eyes as he was shutting the door and he couldn’t either.

When beheading with a guillotine was a public execution people used to bet on how many times the eyes would blink after the head was severed from the body. The person was no longer alive but their brain was still active causing the eyelids to twitch. Once it stopped the life would leave their eyes.

But what happens when someone is shot in the head? The brain goes flying everywhere. There’s nothing to fire off signals so the body doesn’t twitch, the eyes don’t blink, the life immediately leaves without a trace. There’s no last few moments of movement. It’s immediate. Permanent. Immutable.

It happens in the blink of an eye. One second they’re there and alive the next…

That image doesn’t go away. It’s burned into your eyelids. Every time you blink, every time you sleep, every time there’s a sudden loud noise- it always comes back to haunt you. There’s no escape.

That’s one of the hardest parts. Outside of the guilt. Knowing it should have been you. That you would do anything to have one more second with them and you would trade places in a heartbeat. That this outcome came from your own actions. You weren’t the one who pulled the trigger but you created a domino effect that lead to that moment. And you can never take it back.

You didn’t mean to. You’re so sorry. You’re so fucking sorry but you can’t turn back the clock.

You’ve held many things in your hands, and You’ve lost them all.

This is the latest in a long string of losses that weighs on your soul or what’s left of it. Each loss feels like it’s chipped away at your heart and it’s gotten to the point where it feels like it’s crumbled to dust and blown away in the wind.

You’ve tried so hard to keep it intact but it feels like you’re desperately trying to grasp at grains of sand in a storm. Each time you collect even a fraction it’s blown away and you’re left desperately grasping at the pieces as they pass through your fingers.

It feels broken beyond repair. The one thing keeping you going is a promise you made one night under the stars. A promise you made on a whim because you felt it would never come to pass but ended up being some of the last words that passed between you two.

You promised to never forget them. Even if you weren’t together you would each carry on the other’s memory. It was a silly promise made between two lonely kids that were afraid and uncertain. But now you aren’t together and memories are all you have.

You will never forget.

Downclaw looked down at the pedestal before him and took a deep breath in. He lifted his eyes to see the mass of people stood before him, all waiting with bated breath, to hear what he was about to say.

“And so it has come to this, my dear compatriots. It has come to this.” Downclaw nodded slightly, his expression grim, his furry white eyebrows furrowed.

He moved his hand to readjust his grey suit jacket, his blue piercing eyes scanning the crowd for the one - the key to their future. Had she turned up? She must be here. She must be.

“The enemy,” he began, his voice booming over the tannoy, “has gained ground. There is no denying it. Many of our fellow citizens have fallen. Witches, wizards, fairies, centaurs, elves, dwarves, and on and on. So many lives lost to this… This venomous force.”

A heavy silence shrouded the audience, the air thick with grief. He could feel their hearts scream and contort with the decades of fight they had had endured. His fear though - well, his fear was that there may not be any fight left in them at all.

They were tired. They were tired and injured. But most frightening of all, was that their hope was but a flickering ember. And he must not let that ember extinguish itself. He must reignite the flame, no matter how impossible it might seem in this moment.

“I have held many things in my hands, and I have lost them all. My darling children, Mabel and Milicent. My wife - my heart, and my life. Members of my extended family, close friends, colleagues, neighbors…

“My story is not unique. I know this. I look into each of your eyes, and I see the same sorrow staring back at me. We have all lost loved ones. We have all been tested far more than we ever thought possible.”

He placed his hands on the pedestal as he scanned the crowd more closely, his eyes alert and flitting from face to face, until…

There she was - three people deep and off to the side - Adelis Oceantree. So unassuming, so little in stature.

He lifted his chin, his chest puffed a little now that he had seen the key to it all, standing in their midst.

“For this, I thank you. I thank you on behalf of those that you fight for. On behalf of those whom you have saved. And for those whom you have fought for, despite their falling.

“I would be lying if I told you they had not knocked us down.” he smiled grimly. “We all know that they have. But times are changing. Because now, we have something that the opposition does not.”

The hall went silent.

“Because we have the High Orb.”

The crowd erupted with chatter, and the energy in the room immediately began to bubble with excitement. It took all his might not to look at Adelis, knowing that people would be watching his every move.

Downclaw raised his hands and waited a few moments for the chatter to calm.

“We have found the High Orb. And they are standing in this room.”

The room gasped and erupted again in chatter as people eyed each other curiously, wondering if they were standing next to the High Orb themselves.

Downclaw waited a minute of so, knowing that any attempt to quieten them at this moment would be futile. This was the news they had been hoping for, for years now. To know that the High Orb had finally been found, and that he or she was standing amongst them. Well, that was encouraging indeed. The first good news in a long, long time.

“I cannot, of course, tell you who the High Orb is.” Downclaw said, when the chatter had died down. “But I can tell you that they are with us. They will stand with us.”

The crowd cheered, louder and louder, until Downclaw fought to have his voice heard over the whoops and applause, spirits raised, and smiles now dancing on people’s lips.

“With the High Orb at our backs, we will become shadows in the night. They will not know which of them are foe, and which of them are ally.”

Raucous cheers now permeated the hall, reverberating against the great hall’s walls.

“We have struggled to fight them out in the open. But we take a fresh approach now. An approach where we will cripple them from within. And all the while, they will not have a clue of what is happening, WHILE WE STIFLE THEM FROM THE INSIDE OUT!”

By the time Downclaw had finished screaming his last word, the cheers from the crowd were deafening. The room had become buoyant, reinvigorated. People hugged and whooped, and jumped up and down. People who, a few moments ago, were downtrodden and at the end of their wits.

Downclaw risked a momentary glance at Adelis, who stood quietly, looking up at the celebrating people around her, a serene smile on her face.

She was so calm, so untouched by her environment. Unsurprising, of course, for she was the High Orb. Even so, it was a spectacle to behold.

Just before Downclaw was about to look away, the High Orb met his gaze. She held it for a few moments, a slight smile cocked to the side. She slowly nodded once towards him. And as her smile widened even further, she faded away from view, her disappearance unnoticed by the revellers around her. Revellers who would come to know her as the High Orb - the child who saved the world.

I’ve held onto a lot of things but they never seem to stay.

I have held many things in my hands, and I have lost them all. My boyfriend, my parents, my house, and my whole childhood. Here I am at the age of 21 in the van me and my mother decided to redo when I was 15. We said we would travel all 50 states together in it until her untimely death. She was shot shopping while trying to call 911 after the place was robbed. Bullet to the head. She was the sweetested person in the world. Her husband was dead, died in a plane crash when I was 5.

I drummed on the steering wheel of the van...

(When we get enough comments to end the story I will and them all onto a prompt)

The main character Joseph “Joe” Murdock was always a charismatic outgoing ladies man. In his earlier years he’s dated many beautiful women and all of them flawless gems. He has had 1 accidental pregnancy from one of his ladies but that never slowed him down. His baby mama Joi named her son Joseph after his father he was greatful but he still wanted nothing to do with the mother anymore the sexual flames had died out between the two of them. He continues to be a good father to Joseph but keeps dating beautiful women in his travels. Over the years his son noticed his father would visit less and less it’s down to twice a year, his birthday and Xmas. Joseph didn’t mind at least he had a father to talk to over the cellphone anytime he wants. Joe taught Joseph everything he knows about women but to be honest kids a natural you know what they say like father like son; only difference is Joseph didn’t date around he is now 17 years of age and dating his high school sweetheart aged 19 years and both graduating this year. He had told his father that he was set to enlist in the army right after graduation as soon as he turns 18 years. Joseph gets a sunrise out of his father and the day was set he will be headed to the warfront. The day came and went and Joe wasn’t available to see him off but told him good luck over the phone, Joe was in another state with his girlfriend. They have been seeing each other for 9 months now it’s the longest relationship dated. He got a call from Joi crying very terrible tears. Joe is giving a speech at the funeral and stated “I have held many things in my hands, and I have lost them all of them very valuable to me. Im sorry I wasn’t there for you son but I will be the best grandfather to your son and I’m through womanizing. It cut deep to loose you I won’t loose you again I’m sorry it took you’re death to make an honest man out of me but you my boy are an Angel you have saved my life amoungs many others we will never know about… goodbye Son I’m proud of you”