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Literature
Journalistic chapt. 40
Chapter 40
“So it’s settled then?” Sam asked those circled around him at the cruddy, worn oak table.
“As much as it can ever be.”  Louis said, his hands folded on the table, face pensive, as though in some sort of repenting prayer.
Sam looked at Louis and Rosie; he supposed they were something like his knights now, should he think of himself so highly to consider himself on a ‘knightly’ mission. He bit the inside of his cheek.
“Tomorrow?” Rosie asked, interrupting the awkward silence that had risen from Sam’s bitten-cheek silence. Her voice was as gentle as ever, almost unheard above the drunken laughs and actions of the civilians surrounding them.
“A few hours, more like.” He replied finally, looking out the window and into the sky, deeply darkened, the triplets would be long sleeping by then.
“I’ve got a few bearings to get settled.” Louis jutted in, “Just a few things, you know, gott
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Literature
Out to Lunch
Out to Lunch
Dreams are hilarious. Even in the most realistic of them; where everything’s a carbon copy—
from the proportion of your door to your window down to the exact shade of ‘Precious pink’ on your
mom’s lipstick—something’s wrong. Despite the meticulous detail that would make even the most
perceptive scratch their heads, there’s always something off. Something you wouldn’t notice at first,
something that seems normal under the intoxication of REM but makes you wonder: ‘what the hell was
that?’ when you wake up.
Which is how I knew that, despite being a beautiful replica, this city wasn’t my home. It was only
a small detail that mattered. The man with Down Syndrome working at Donavins, he cleaned
the windows and when I’d come in for breakfast he’d never fail to say I was “pretty as a peach”.
Fabricated man said I was “So pretty it was criminal”.
However, unlike normal, when
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Literature
Sandcastles Chapt.5
July 1st, 1995
If you lived in the city on July 1st, you were in the Dome. Fights broke out for good seats, avoiding the roped off VIP section, reserved for the Type-A heroes. Cameras flashed. Reporters struggled to ask bystanders what they knew, whether the heroes have arrived, where they were going after the ceremony. Observing them from backstage, I realized how they all crowded in like ants on a stray apple core, all hungry and unnervingly easy to please
Nervousness knotted in the pit of my stomach. Tucker stood behind me with mom, who was adjusting his tie for the seventh time that evening. The rest of the new recruits stood behind him, all adjusting themselves accordingly to be shown in front of the city populous. All were masked. Masks that were soon to become their identity, whoever they were before this final moment was soon to be put to the back burner and stamped with the term “SECRET”.
(I guess that’s all of you now, huh, time sure flies.)
I turned to my f
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Literature
Sandcastles Chapt.4
March 23rd, 1995
Instead of going back to the party, Tucker took me to the convenience store around the corner to buy bubble gum and slushies. Everything turned out better than I thought.
Our parents didn’t think the same. Together they had explained to Tucker a thousand times how these parties would be “essential” for his reputation, and a “key factor” into fitting into the “Type A” category. For the most part, he trotted along, whipped like a prized racehorse. But there were days where he couldn’t trail behind them, he came to the point of his life where he realized, with horror, that these were the final moments of his adolescence. The rest of his years would consist of following orders, and posing for magazine covers and advertisements, along with fighting the occasional crime that posed itself. Until then, he wanted to live his life to the fullest, enjoy the last of his childhood, skip classes, smoke cigarettes (among other things),
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Literature
Sandcastles Chapt.3
March 21st, 1995
Swooping dancers adorned in long, silken dresses hung on the arms of handsome men garnished in tuxedos. Dates walked arm-in-arm with glasses of champagne in their hands. Golden curtains, light coral pink walls, and a shining hardwood floor accented the ballroom. Mom and Dad loved dragging us to this kind of crap.
My hair was hard and itchy from the hairspray, and high heels made my feet burn. Tucker and Michael were off with my parents somewhere, I’d lost sight of them a few minutes in. I walked among the crowd in an attempt to find them, scooting my way past women in Dior and Chanel and men who shot me looks of contempt.
I caught sight of my brothers sitting at one of the round tables scattered around the ballroom. Back straightened, fake ‘I’m-a-rich-girl’ grin plastered on my face, I approached.
“Hi.” I said, stupidly, folding my hands behind my back, the complete strangers at the table looking me up and down.
“Molly.”
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Literature
Sandcastles Chapt.2
January 16th, 1995
I guess I couldn’t really blame them, something like this hadn’t really happened before. The superhero gene is genetic after all; it’s destined for the child of two superheroes to have a superpower. My older brother and my younger brother both had developed their powers already, and had them for years. I was fourteen, and I hadn’t. It was unheard of. Being superheroes themselves, there wasn’t a lot of time to figure out what was wrong with me, and at the moment there wasn’t a superhero genetic specialist around to see what the problem was.
The backyard of our house was several secluded acres, making the house itself look small. I sat on a white plastic lawn chair wrapped in a thick red blanket, watching my two brothers practice what they were good at. In the few months since the Halloween incident, Tucker had refined his skills, and it showed. Water floated around him gracefully, and I wondered how it didn’t freeze in the col
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Literature
Hairbrushes and Open Doors
Hairbrushes and Open Doors
Coal stained, sweating, in a chorus of laughter they walked out of the darkness of the mine and into the star-speckled evening. Coughs resonated from the crowd, ignorant to the diseases they contracted, their only thoughts concerning the day’s pay and the families eagerly awaiting them with open arms and worry-strained hearts.
More coal dust showed on Elijah than his actual skin, the white of his shirt long since turned black. Distracted, he walked with his friends, barely focused on their conversation.
“Eli.”
“What?” He asked, spinning toward another miner.
“I said, are you going to the bar?” The miner asked with a laugh.
“Not tonight,”
“Why not?”
“I’ve got some things to catch up on.”
“Come on! You haven’t gone all week.”
Eli chuckled, “There are things more important than drinking.”
“Which only proves that you need a drink.”
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Literature
12 Step: Belief
12 Step: Belief
“Alright everyone,” The leader’s fingers were wound tightly around her clipboard as the monsters took their seats.
“You sound cheery, Miss. Bernard.” Vince said, his voice dripping sarcasm.
“Well..” She stopped, “Are you drinking blood?” She asked.
Vince looked down to his mug, then back to the leader, “What of it?”
They stared at each other a moment, “It’s against protocol.” She said slowly, “Remember the first meeting?”
“I try not to.”
“Vince, wouldya just dump the shit?” Medusa complained, seated with her feet upwards on the back of the chair.
“It’s my breakfast!”
“Well then you should have drunk before you left.” The leader said before snatching the mug, a crafty piece that said ‘My Bark is NOT worse than my bite’. Miss. Bernard looked at it with disgust before setting it on the windowsill.
“Am I late
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Literature
Sandcastles Chapt.1
Sandcastles
          I confess guys. I’m Hanged Man. I aided Epidemic in his quest to release the X contagion. But, it’s not what it seems, really. It’s not like I decided to go evil overnight. It’s that “S” gene you heroes pimp out;Uncovering the truth behind it became my heroin, and he was the only one who’d supply me with a fix.
          I’ve discovered the truth, it lies within the pages I’ve written here. This contains my thoughts, feelings, and most importantly (to you people at least) my actions.
Forgive me, I’m going to set things right. I’m so sorry.
                                                                                        &
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Literature
Face Value
Face Value
His eyes watered like a corpse, his gut extended far past the regions of his belt, and his hair--whatever was left of it—was gray and fell in downy tufts against his liver-spotted head. Henri knew he was no looker, walking down the streets in his polyester suit, keeping a grip on his suitcase. It was well within his knowledge that pedestrians avoided his sickly appearance and varicose veins.
But he never minded, to him life was simple, and to anyone who knew him--and knew him well-- they’d admit to it being his charm, why they bothered speaking to him in the first place. He was a red, white, and blue blooded man, who ate his Wheaties for breakfast, went to work, and paid his taxes. Lather, Rinse, Repeat. People liked that routine, admired it. In friends people looked for others that wouldn’t keep them guessing, and Henri fit that definition like a hand fits a glove.
His friends endured the first icebreaker with Henri for his entrancing charm; they stayed fo
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Literature
12 Step
12 Step
"My name's Medusa, and I am a monster." She stated before contorting her face in displeasure, "Man, I can actually taste how stupid that was."
A chorus of snickers resonated from everyone in the group circle. That was, except from the woman with the clipboard and the white uniform.
"Alright, alright, everyone, what'd I say?" The apparent leader of the group demanded, casting glares at every member.
They sighed, "Hi, Medusa" they said in unison.
"Good." As though reassured, the leader straightened her position and looked down on the clipboard, "Alright, Vincent?"
"If you think I'm doing this, there is something very wrong with you, honey." The man reclined in his seat, arms crossed across his chest in defiance.
"Do I need to remind you that participation in these meetings is mandatory, by court?" the question sounded more like a statement coming from her lips.
"I've been on earth over a hundred years-
"Oh here he goes again." The mummy said to the broad-shouldered man nex
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Literature
Journalistic chapt. 39
Chapter Thirty-Nine:
"I've done some things." Leon admitted into the open air. For early September, the air was cool, a refreshing turn for the unusually hot summer they had been cursed with.
Kathleen looked up from the book she was reading, Pride and Prejudice, Leon had noticed from the worn binding that it'd been one she read frequently. "We've all done bad things." She stated.
He sighed, "Not like I've done." He explained, "It'd different."
The book closed with gentle hands, and she turned to look toward him, "What makes you say so?" She asked.
Looking at her, he wasn't sure how to respond, "I'm not a good person." He said after a pause.
Her features softened, "You walk me to my home every single day, just so I can get home without being teased."
"It's just the gentlemanly thing to do." He looked to his hands, folded together neatly over his lap, contrasting the slouching posture he wore.
"Then you might want to tell that to the other gentlemen in this town, they seem to have
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Literature
Journalistic chapt. 38
Chapter Thirty-Eight:
The smell was what had gotten to her. The choking, toxic scent from the mines made her cough and feel like death had gripped her throat. Millions of times she'd tried to reassure herself that'd her body would grow accustom to the harsh air, but millions of times she'd only proved herself wrong. The days were hot, the only retreat coming from the large lake that had seated itself next to the town. Every time she walked into the streets, she felt the overcrowding as people walked elbow-to-elbow in an attempt to maneuver through the streets and get to their place of work, or their homes.
Every day she hated it. It wore on her nerves until there was almost nothing left.
Just like y'r m'thr, ol' crazy Ann!
She shook her head in an attempt to release the thought. The sun had just set over the horizon, and she heard Sam walking about the home, his familiar footsteps providing the only comfort to her uneasy heart. He'd been talking for weeks about a sort of rescue
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Literature
The Doodle and the Dame
"Thanks, I guess?" I said as the artist of the doodle I now possessed walked away with pride in his step. I looked down at the lined piece of paper to see a picture of what looked like a male fairy. Whatever made my classmate think it was perfect for me blew right over my head.
"No problem, seems like he likes you." Said classmate said before continuing to walk away. I watched him go in confusion before looking back at the lined paper doodle in my hand.
I could just pitch it. I thought, looking around to make sure the artist was out of sight before I walked over to the trashcan. My hand stopped before releasing the paper into the can at the sound of the school bell ringing, indicating how late I was to my next class.
"Damn," I mumbled under my breath before taking one last look at the picture. The fairy looked pleased, a wise smile stretched across his face, "Fine, it looks like you're coming home with me." I said before shoving the picture in my backpack and running down the ha
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Literature
Journalistic chapt. 37
New Part:
Chapter Thirty-Seven:
Sitting alone at the kitchen table, the cool September winds were the only thing keeping the young man from breaking into a sweat. His trembling hand ran through his hair, and he felt like he would be sick. Quiet resonated throughout the home, and made him uneasy. He'd grown to expect the worst to erupt out of cool and quiet nights.
"Sam?" A soft voice questioned from the doorway.
With a shawl wrapped around her shoulders, Sam's mother placed a forehead on her son's forehead. "Are you feeling alright?"
"I'm alright. Is it alright if I talk to you?" Sam uttered, almost too quickly to be easily understood. He shuffled in his seat.
"You know that you don't have to ask." With a caress she took his hand out of his mess of hair and gave it a gentle squeeze. A smile sent small wrinkled to hug her mouth, and the reassurance gave him enough strength to speak.
"Remember when I told you about what happened?" He croaked, struggling to look into eyes of hazel.
"I did
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Literature
Reparation
Reparation
It feels like the inside of my skull is about split apart like a watermelon hitting the pavement. My vision blurs as the paramedics lift me onto the stiff plastic board. I hear screaming and crane my head toward the sound, and where I left my sister and the man who I think has left me feeling like I've been turned into something the consistency of lumpy pudding.
But at least a got a few shots in, he'll have trouble pissing for a week.
She runs as I'm lifted into the truck, and I note through my blurred vision that mascara is running down her reddened cheeks. "I'm coming." She states, not waiting for an answer before climbing in beside me.
I lift my hands and she shoves them down, but resistant as ever, I raise them again. 'You have to admit, I looked like a boss.' I sign shakily with a smirk plastered across my face.
"You got the shit kicked out of you!" Jess reminds me with horror in her tone, "Jerry's a linebacker you moron!"
I hold up a finger to stop her. 'He might be a
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I've been going through a major art block since May, and I just haven't been dishing out stories, I've been planning for next months NaNo, but nothing beyond that. I'll try to get something out soon, but between work and summer assignments, I don't know how "soon" that will be.

Thanks for your patience and support!

Ps. Anyone want to give me a short story prompt/ an idea for something to draw? It'd be appreciated!

deviantID

FrazzeledFish
Brooke
Artist | Student | Traditional Art
United States
Hi there. :) I'm Brooke, and there really isn't much to say about me.

I'm a fan of all kinds of art, and on my DA you'll find that I experiment with most of them.
I write as well, and am currently writing a chapter book called Journalistic with my good friend :iconbritt315:
I'm also involved in co-writing a series of stories called The Apartment Over the Alley with my sister :iconornateoctopus:

I hope you enjoy my DA, and don't be afraid to send me a message, I love meeting new people!

:iconwhyyes1plz::iconwhyyess2plz: :icontradesopen: :iconrequestfriendsonly: :iconcommissionsopen: :iconpointcommissionsopen:

TO DO LIST:

Journalistic Sketches:
-Louis
-Roy
-Fern
-Andrew
Art I owe people:
finished piece for :iconfluffyfuzzball:
Interests

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:iconwebbererikphan:
WebberErikPhan Featured By Owner Jul 10, 2014
Happy Birthday!
Reply
:iconfiarcurrin:
fiarcurrin Featured By Owner Jul 11, 2013  Hobbyist Writer
Hey! I tagged you, so if you have time it could be fun right?
here's the link; [link]
Reply
:iconjlev94:
JLev94 Featured By Owner Jul 10, 2013  Hobbyist General Artist
Happy Birthday sweet Brooke! :dummy: :tighthug: :party:
I hope that your day is AMAZING!! :la: :iconbrohugplz:
Reply
:iconfrazzeledfish:
FrazzeledFish Featured By Owner Jul 10, 2013  Student Traditional Artist
Thank you so, so much! :iconbrohugplz:
Reply
:iconkarly-berri142:
Karly-Berri142 Featured By Owner Jul 10, 2013  Student Digital Artist
Brooke! Happy happy birthday :iconbrohugplz:
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:iconfrazzeledfish:
FrazzeledFish Featured By Owner Jul 10, 2013  Student Traditional Artist
Thank you!!!!!!! :iconletmehugyouplz:
Reply
:iconkarly-berri142:
Karly-Berri142 Featured By Owner Jul 14, 2013  Student Digital Artist
:glomp: I hope you had a fantastic day! :love:
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:iconms-craizdraw:
Ms-Craizdraw Featured By Owner Jul 10, 2013  Student Digital Artist
Happy birthday!!! c: :party:
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:iconfrazzeledfish:
FrazzeledFish Featured By Owner Jul 10, 2013  Student Traditional Artist
Thank you!!
Reply
:iconiam-holly:
iam-holly Featured By Owner Jul 10, 2013  Student General Artist
HAPPY BIRTHDAY YOU BEAUTIFUL THING, YOU!
:party::iconcakeplz::party:
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