Writing Prompt
Writings
Writings
WRITING OBSTACLE
Your character goes to bed angry.
Write an internal monologue of this character's thoughts - try to be realistic about how people feel when they cannot resolve their anger.
Writings
It’s seething, Steam pouring out of me. A flame goes out with every cycle of breathing.
I wanna break things. I find ways to hate things. I am so angry at being alive.
The world is aggrivating. I enjoy very few things, And I’m sick of being poked and prodded at.
I’m going to bed angry. And I don’t want to go to school tomorrow, I don’t want to go to program, I’ve done all this shit before. Felt all this shit before. They say it gets better And then I feel better and believe it And then I wake up and remember it’s a big fucking lie.
Leave me alone. People never did anything for me, They can’t certainly do anything for me now. I’m better off by myself. Confined to my room, Slowly destroying everything inside it, Until I destroy myself.
I’m angry And I want to stay that way But I don’t want to just sit here, Resisting the urge to pull my hair out, Dig my nails deep into my skin, Bite my arm and run my fingers over the grooves again and again Because for some reason that’s soothing And I don’t do that, Because I know I shouldn’t, But where is this anger going to go? When I feel the need to do something, And that anger always ends up landing on myself?
And I don’t know… I tried to say something, but I don’t have the words And my suffering is my own to keep So what could he do anyway? What can anyone do these days, when it’s still getting worse?
I love you, But I don’t love me. We are the same, How can that be?
We talk and laugh and love alike, We’re both hurting, Not fans of life, But of each other eternally.
I could never forget how much I love you, Even if your name didn’t end in ily, I will do whatever I have to To make sure you’re okay.
I think I get it now,Ty You are all the best parts of me, And I’m so proud I couldn’t love you more Emily.
You’re my better half, My forever, You never fail to make me laugh. I’m lucky to have a big sis like you.
I can’t believe I bumped into my teacher and she told my grandmother all about my behavior. I can’t wait to get her tomorrow; I’m going to start throwing chairs. I’m going to be really loud but it really annoys me that she thinks the worst of me. I can’t stand her. I really can’t she’s truly annoying and she’s ugly. At least I can get David to go along with me. I was calling him to laugh with whatever I’m doing. I’m the king of the school and those annoying girls. I can’t stand them. Oh they are the teachers pet. And there she goes again with that you can do better you’re better than this blah blah blah. I wish she would just shut up! I can’t believe that she would embarrass me like that. Why couldn’t she just go and walk away? I was going to try not to let her see me. You know what I have plans for her and I bet that I’ll make her go away. I’ll get in trouble but it will be worth it.
One sheep. Two sheep. Three sheep. Goddamn, I hate Brenda. Homewrecking whore. That was my husband. MY husband. Four sheep. Five sheep. Six sheep. I think I’ll go to work tomorrow and slit her throat. Let her bleed out like the little piggy she is. Seven sheep. Eight sheep. Nine sheep. It’s not her fault entirely. It’s mostly my sleazy husband to blame. I’ll gut him first. Yeah, I’ll gut him right before work. Ten sheep. Eleven sheep. Twelve sheep. Think I don’t know? Oh ho ho ho, I fucking know. Brenda KNEW I was married. She KNEW we were planning a trip to Cancun next summer. They’re both scums of the Earth. Thirteen sheep. Fourteen sheep. Fifteen sheep. How the fuck could they do this to me?! She was my maid of honor and I was hers. They ripped out my heart and fucking ate it in front of me. Sixteen dead Brendas. Seventeen dead Brendas. Eighteen dead Brendas. Won’t give me kids. Won’t take me out to my favorite restaurant. Late nights at “work”. I should’ve known. Stupid, stupid, stupid girl. Nineteen dead husbands. Twenty dead husbands. Twenty-one dead husbands. They’ll get what’s coming to them. Both of those cockroaches. I am judge, jury, and mother fucking executioner. Say your prayers you sinners, for I am coming to strike you down. Twenty-two sheep. Twenty-three sheep. Twenty-four sheep.
Welp. There goes my Xbox Controller. I knew it was a bad idea to come home in a bad mood and fire up a game that was known for making people rage out, break controllers, break gaming units, and break their PCs which cost them thousands.
I'm a fucking idiot. I even told myself that it was time for a break. I was kosher for damn near sixty hours of gameplay, playing the game with careful tactics, a cool head, and I was having a fucking blast. Then, at some point this week, the rage began. The slamming of fists onto my computer table, the hurling of my controller across my bedroom. The rage quit out of frustration, only to come back in an hour and rage quit again. I even voiced my urge to take a break to friends, and they all agreed that that was probably a good idea. I even bought a kid's game...this morning, that was known for "relaxing and fun play" as a "counterbalance".
So what in the blue hell provoked me to turn the game on when I came home in a bad mood?
Shit. I don't know. Maybe I wanted to subconsciously break something? Is that normal? When the gym ain't cutting it, an outburst of rage to show...what? Some pathetic form of dominance? I didn't have the best day, the rage was building up throughout the entire day, maybe it got the best of me?
I feel pretty dumb right now. That was a damn fine controller too. Strong, sturdy, resilient. Just not resilient enough to survive fully powered throw into my wooden bed frame.
Fuck. There's $70 out of the bank account for no good reason.
I think this solidifies the fact that it's time for a break. Do a deep dive into the kid's game that I purchased this morning.
For now...maybe I should just call it a night. I was pissed when I came home and now I'm just pissed at myself. God, I'm a fucking idiot.
I won't go out and buy a controller tomorrow. That's my punishment, to myself. Maybe I should wait till my next check. That sounds good, right?
For now...I think it's time for bed. Here's to hoping things are a bit brighter tomorrow.
PS. Fuck you Elden Ring.
All I can hear is the ticking of the clock
Tick, tock, tick, tock, tick, tock.
If it were a Tell Tale Heart and I was Poe
I’d rip the floorboards up for it to stop.
He’s staring at me still, he hasn’t moved for a while
Shouting at him to wake up, to face the world.
A scary world with too much to see
BANG here and CRACK there
It’s not the floorboards
Fires burn outside and children talk like adults
Lavish parties with costumed people
Animals that are given the voices of humans.
People should be running, I’m backed in a corner
Facing a mirror that’s bound to shatter
I’m safer in here, at night time, I’m safe
But the ticking of that clock is bringing about day
What will happen to me if I walk
in the sunlight, on the street, in the dark?
I’m much better here, with Poe and his heart.
Arghh get over this madness, you weak feeble man
Be part of the real world, you know that you can
Wishing for strength to fight off this curse
Walk out of this house right now!
It all kept coming back to what he had done. What my best friend had done to hurt me the way he did. Why he had done what he did. Who put him up to it. The lasting one affects his actions would have on the rest of my life; maybe even his life. Who knew? I didn't. He for sure didn't know. I just wish I could ask him if it was worth it; was what he did worth the seemingly low price of me?
tw: sexual, physical, and mental abuse
God, I want to kill him. I want to smack that stupid smirk off of his stupid fucking face. I want him to feel the pain he put us through, he still puts us through every single goddamn day. I run the fingers of one hand along my face and arms, feeling the bruises as I clench my other hand into a tight fist.
I want to see that man in pain for the things he did to my sister. I want to beat him up like he beat me. Jail isn’t enough for him. No. He deserves so much worse.
Lying in bed, I start to shake in rage. How could a father do such terrible things to his children? I had to sneak Alia out to the abortion clinic yesterday after she got pregnant with his baby. I wanted to murder him that night, but I didn’t. I couldn’t. Alia needs me here, with her. Not in prison for murder.
But now, thinking about it, about how he broke us apart at every opportunity with his words and his fists, I can’t hold back. I want him gone.
So, getting out of bed, I reach for my baseball bat. I go to turn the handle. Then I hear Alia scream, and I freeze, the bat clattering to the floor. Then the fear sets in, and I shake, terrified, once again helpless as I listen to my sister suffer. Someday I’ll kill him. Someday he won’t hurt us ever again .
The cold sheets matched my loneliness. Why did we even fight? I don’t remember. The fury makes your mind numb and my legs and arms are still shaking. It’s like a fog, it’ll clear up and I’ll remember. Thing is I’m not sure I’ll like what I see.
Sometimes I get so angry I black out. All that’s left is this toxic, swirling hate in my stomach. So hot I can feel it when I breathe. That’s exactly how I feel now. All I can do is curl up into a ball and hug myself.
Unfortunately though, that fog was beginning to clear.
“How could she?” Squeezes out from my tight lips.
It came back to me in a flash and all of that hatred starts bubbling up in my stomach. To hell with it all. Tears stream down my face and I find myself weeping. Weeping like a child. Hatred always turns to sorrow. I’ve never met a sad person who wasn’t angry in some shape or form. Usually it stems from hating one’s self but all I could think now was how could she? Was it my fault? Maybe. I’m not even sure anymore. Maybe the only way is to talk it out. Maybe we should. I’ll call her. No. She’s downstairs I’ll just head down there. That’ll be romantic my sweet Mary will love that.
I fling the now warm sheet off the bed and hop out, making my way towards the door. Blood. That isn’t right. I thought to myself. God kept appearing in my mind. I couldn’t. I’ll just sleep.
What did I do? Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. I should forget all about it. I’m just being strange, like I always am. I need to relax and sleep it’ll all sort itself out in the morning.
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