Sunday, April 21, 2013


Curse by Naina:

I love people. That’s my curse.
Since I was a child, I’ve been able to feel for other people, know their inner hopes and fears like my own. I wish I didn’t have to.
I try to explain my plight but no one seems to understand.
“Oh, you’re so lucky, you’re a kind person.” I’ve never had a choice in the matter. I have  to be kind or my conscience’ll kill me.
 “I’d give anything to understand my friends the way you do.” I’d give anything to not.
“Empathy is a gift, use it well.” It’s a gift, sure, but it’s also a curse.

Imagine that you were carrying a candle in a dark room. You spread light as you hold up your candle and everyone loves you for it. You’ve given them what they need: the illumination to find their way along a dark path.
But here’s the catch: the candle burns you. Every time you hold up the candle, wax trickles down your skin, scalding and scorching your flesh. You gasp and try to rub it off, but it sticks like burning oil.
The only way not to get burnt is to extinguish the light. To stay away. Follow your own path for a change.
But you can’t do that. You can’t leave all these people in the dark. You love them too much for that. The candle burns you if you don’t help them and burns you if you do. It’s a no-win situation.

It’s a never-ending duty. I have to help everyone I meet or I’ll feel so sad I can’t bear it. I’ll probably kill myself one of these days, trying to help someone.
I love people more than I love myself. Love thy neighbour, the good book says, and I do. I love everyone I know, for all their flaws and faults. Even you. I barely know you but yet I feel obliged to whisper a few words in your ear, reassure you that it’s all right. Just so you can move on from your fears and insecurities, live a better life.
I love you even though I don’t know you. Yeah, I know, that sounded creepy.
Hush little baby, don’t say a word. Momma’s going to fix the whole sad world.

Seems weird, walking along the street, talking about this. There’s a girl crossing the road – she just broke up with her boyfriend, I think. She looks so sad. Oh, no, she’s not looking where she’s going and the car–
It’s over for me. I can hear people crying. But at least she’s safe. Goodbye world. The candle is flickering and will soon die.

Ink by John 55555:

 The boy sat alone on a high stool before the writing table. His hair was close cropped, and he wore a red tunic belted at the waist. A warm breeze blew through the sunny room and ruffled the blank, rough paper before him. He  was focused on his task. He dipped his pen into the ink, and, with no hesitation began to write.

The curse has stood on my family for countless generations. It is something we must bear, and have borne well. Our spirits have been sharpened, our determination has been hardened, and truly this evil has brought us great good.There is little room for greed and vice in our tumultuous hearts. For we can hear them, I can hear them. The whispers of the dragons.
A look of horror, then one of sorrow flew across his face. Then a a return of his quiet concentration.
They lie deep, deep beneath the green fields and black mountains. Some think them legends, most think them dead. But they live, in the darkness that is broken only by the flames of their wrath. But always, among themselves and to themselves, they whisper.
The boy's jaw clenched, and he paused. After a moment he returned to his task, with renewed speed.
They speak in secrets, old knowledge long corrupted. They speak of present, future and distant path in a single breath, and seem not to distinguish them as such.
It is my task, as it has long been the task of my ancestors, to record those of these whispers that might be used for good. The histories they speak of are beyond anything our takes tell of, and even in the foul wisdom of dragons their lie grains truth and usefulness.
But one other duty falls to me. I must listen, listen for the day they try and break free.
Depression by Tekulo:

I’m never having children of my own.  That is the conclusion I have reached after twenty years of living.
I won’t lie, the dream life sounds quite lovely.  Falling in love, proposing, getting married and celebrating with a wonderful wedding, having children, going to work every day and coming home to your family sounds nice.  Maybe it’s because it’s the way I was programmed as an animal, but having children always sounded nice to me.  A lot of people dream of starting a family, and I can feel that part of me itching away in my brain time after time.  But I will ignore it.  I have to ignore it.

The site before me sealed my determination on the matter.  Tiny pairs of lights were flying across the horizon of my vision.  It felt amazing watching them zoom past.  Just imagining those little lights on their way to a destination far away from where I am now.   They didn’t pay me any mind, but that was fine with me.  There were other lights too, and they illuminated dark pavement in a sickening orange light.  As hideous as it looked, it also seemed calm.  Staring into the darkness of the ground below, I could feel it almost calling to me; dragging me in with each and every breath I took.  I could feel it in my veins; the pulse of my heart reaching my brain and screaming with every passing moment.

Jump.  Jump. Jump.  Jump.

I never felt more alive in that moment than I ever have in my entire life.  The only thing keeping me from falling now was my hand clenching a nearby pipe on the roof.  The rest of my body was standing, leaning out to the depths below.  Looking back now, it was the scariest moment I’ve experienced.  My body was doing this on its own it seemed.  My consciousness was aware of what was going on, just a little.  Beyond my heart and my brain screaming at me, I could hear a tiny little voice.  It was almost like a whisper the way it started.

Don’t… Don’t… Don’t… Don’t…

My index finger slipped off of the pipe and my body lurched slightly toward the ground.

D-Jump.  Do-ump. Don-mp.  Don’-p

I could feel myself fighting with my own body.  That’s right, I could regain my senses.  Another finger slipped off of the metal arm which was keeping me alive.

Don’t… Jump… Don’t… Jump

The words began to pulse throughout my entire body.  My hand, however slipped completely, and for the first time since what seemed an everlasting battle, I felt fear flash through my entire existence all at once.
That was when I felt a hand grasp my own.  I was stunned as I was pulled back up to the top of the roof.  I saw a person in front of me, someone who was very close to me.  I saw a pair of lips moving quite frantically after that, but I just stared at them, my mind unable to process the noise.

This was a curse that had been passed down in the blood of my family, and I vowed that night that it would end with me.

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