Post by Mischief on Aug 23, 2006 14:08:20 GMT -5
From my last trip to the story board, once again, inspiration has struck, and so has my time limit on AOL, and therefore, I have much time to spend in Microsoft Word, and I typed up a story to go with the latest describing my pathetic and pitiful life song, 'There Is No Escape.' Strangely, the titles of the subjects never seem to really be the titles that I want for the story/poem/song. So, going along with that...um.....here it is?
Oh, WHATEVER.
BTW, if It sucks, BLAME SARAH MARTIN.
---
There is no escape....
Let me out.
Her dark brown hair swept away by her black headphones. Pale hands pounded lightly against the glass again of the mirror. She watched from her position at t he floor, watching the tall, shoulder-length brown haired girl, and her blue-grey eyes narrowed.
I don’t think so.
The tall girl replied, her amber eyes sparkling, brown glasses sparkling. Sarah Martin walked forward and traced her long fingers over the edge of the mirror.
You know, you’re making an excellent puppet, Mischief. Your life is so....simple to control. You’re too gullible.
Mischief screamed, punching the glass with her hands. The glass broken dangerously and it cut her hands, blood spraying onto the glass. Just like before.
Now, now, Mischief, don’t get too testy.
Sarah cooed, a malevolent smile pressed onto her lips.
Mischief looked down at her hands, her headphones slipping off, and she watched blood ooze onto the floor of the mirror she had been trapped in. Blood poured from her already pale hands, and tears sprung to Mischief’s eyes, her hair falling into her face. Tears gathered at the edge of her eyes, threatening to spill like the others had before them. Mischief’s throbbing hands hurt, and she cried out. Pain snaked into her hands, and Mischief closed her eyes briefly before opening them again.
I’m bleeding again.
Sarah looked at her coldly, leaning back lazily in her gigantic, throne-like chair. She sighed, snapped her fingers. Duct tape was sent spiraling into the mirror and smacked into Mischief, tossing her backwards.
Go nuts.
Mischief glared at Sarah, shaking, temper flaring inside of her. But she wanted to keep it under control. And that was as much as she wanted to hurt Sarah.
Shaking with pain and anger tinged with despair, Mischief picked up the duct tape.
Bandage your hands. Go wild. Throw a duct tape party.
Mischief threw out another glare, a low growl rising in her throat. For once, Sarah looked scared. Her eyes stretched wide and her expression was scandalized.
Let me OUT!
She hurled the duct tape at the mirror and the mirror shattered, glass spraying everywhere, another part of the mirror smashed. Sarah continued looking scandalized. Mischief had rarely ever blown up on anyone before, and when she did, she went off. Mischief grinned malevolently at Sarah. She knew Sarah was scared of her. And yet she controlled her anyway because she wanted to mess up her life, and she knew that Mischief needed her. And when Sarah left, Mischief would be broken and tangled in a web of Sarah’s lies. She wouldn’t be able to blame Sarah, because Sarah would have left her. She’d have to take the blame. The aggravation at her pulsed through Mischief and she slammed her fist into the mirror, her already cut hands smudged with cuts, wild fury twisting her eyes, ruining her pretty face. Wretched, wild anger filled Mischief’s complexion, and the blood-stained mirror was smashed again.
I want out. I don’t need you, Sarah. Let me go. I don’t want to be you puppet.
This isn’t a business, you know. Sarah snapped. This is like working for Voldemort; you don’t just hand in your registration and leave. This is life-long. And besides....i like controlling you.
Mischief went wild with fury.
Dare you let the words of Sirius Black grace your lips? SHUT UP!
Mischief’s screams and yells filled the mirror, echoing into the chamber, Sarah plugged her ears.
Listen. I know how you feel.
Mischief screamed with derisive laughter, her cackle haunting Sarah.
No, you don’t! Stop changing your story! Shut up!
You will not command me! I command you!
I am my own person! Stop taking over me!
You dare use an Evanescence reference?
You used Harry Potter!
To mock you!
Then I am mocking you! Mischief pressed against the mirror and it trembled, glowing with wild fury from who was trapped inside.
If you escape, you’ll be broken. I own you now. You’ll be trapped in my lies, my web, and even when I leave, I’ll still be controlling you. You can never be free.
Sarah’s words struck Mischief. Tears poured down her pale, heart-shaped face. Sarah started laughing as Mischief slumped down, sinking to the ground.
You should know to never underestimate me.
.....Yes, Sarah.
Mischief’s reply was surly and stained with tears.
There truly is no escape.
[/center] [/color]
Oh, WHATEVER.
BTW, if It sucks, BLAME SARAH MARTIN.
---
There is no escape....
Let me out.
Her dark brown hair swept away by her black headphones. Pale hands pounded lightly against the glass again of the mirror. She watched from her position at t he floor, watching the tall, shoulder-length brown haired girl, and her blue-grey eyes narrowed.
I don’t think so.
The tall girl replied, her amber eyes sparkling, brown glasses sparkling. Sarah Martin walked forward and traced her long fingers over the edge of the mirror.
You know, you’re making an excellent puppet, Mischief. Your life is so....simple to control. You’re too gullible.
Mischief screamed, punching the glass with her hands. The glass broken dangerously and it cut her hands, blood spraying onto the glass. Just like before.
Now, now, Mischief, don’t get too testy.
Sarah cooed, a malevolent smile pressed onto her lips.
Mischief looked down at her hands, her headphones slipping off, and she watched blood ooze onto the floor of the mirror she had been trapped in. Blood poured from her already pale hands, and tears sprung to Mischief’s eyes, her hair falling into her face. Tears gathered at the edge of her eyes, threatening to spill like the others had before them. Mischief’s throbbing hands hurt, and she cried out. Pain snaked into her hands, and Mischief closed her eyes briefly before opening them again.
I’m bleeding again.
Sarah looked at her coldly, leaning back lazily in her gigantic, throne-like chair. She sighed, snapped her fingers. Duct tape was sent spiraling into the mirror and smacked into Mischief, tossing her backwards.
Go nuts.
Mischief glared at Sarah, shaking, temper flaring inside of her. But she wanted to keep it under control. And that was as much as she wanted to hurt Sarah.
Shaking with pain and anger tinged with despair, Mischief picked up the duct tape.
Bandage your hands. Go wild. Throw a duct tape party.
Mischief threw out another glare, a low growl rising in her throat. For once, Sarah looked scared. Her eyes stretched wide and her expression was scandalized.
Let me OUT!
She hurled the duct tape at the mirror and the mirror shattered, glass spraying everywhere, another part of the mirror smashed. Sarah continued looking scandalized. Mischief had rarely ever blown up on anyone before, and when she did, she went off. Mischief grinned malevolently at Sarah. She knew Sarah was scared of her. And yet she controlled her anyway because she wanted to mess up her life, and she knew that Mischief needed her. And when Sarah left, Mischief would be broken and tangled in a web of Sarah’s lies. She wouldn’t be able to blame Sarah, because Sarah would have left her. She’d have to take the blame. The aggravation at her pulsed through Mischief and she slammed her fist into the mirror, her already cut hands smudged with cuts, wild fury twisting her eyes, ruining her pretty face. Wretched, wild anger filled Mischief’s complexion, and the blood-stained mirror was smashed again.
I want out. I don’t need you, Sarah. Let me go. I don’t want to be you puppet.
This isn’t a business, you know. Sarah snapped. This is like working for Voldemort; you don’t just hand in your registration and leave. This is life-long. And besides....i like controlling you.
Mischief went wild with fury.
Dare you let the words of Sirius Black grace your lips? SHUT UP!
Mischief’s screams and yells filled the mirror, echoing into the chamber, Sarah plugged her ears.
Listen. I know how you feel.
Mischief screamed with derisive laughter, her cackle haunting Sarah.
No, you don’t! Stop changing your story! Shut up!
You will not command me! I command you!
I am my own person! Stop taking over me!
You dare use an Evanescence reference?
You used Harry Potter!
To mock you!
Then I am mocking you! Mischief pressed against the mirror and it trembled, glowing with wild fury from who was trapped inside.
If you escape, you’ll be broken. I own you now. You’ll be trapped in my lies, my web, and even when I leave, I’ll still be controlling you. You can never be free.
Sarah’s words struck Mischief. Tears poured down her pale, heart-shaped face. Sarah started laughing as Mischief slumped down, sinking to the ground.
You should know to never underestimate me.
.....Yes, Sarah.
Mischief’s reply was surly and stained with tears.
There truly is no escape.
