{ a l o n e } in the cold | briar & pumpkiny

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{ a l o n e } in the cold | briar & pumpkiny Feb 5, 2014 18:35:22 GMT -5

Post by м е ш on Feb 5, 2014 18:35:22 GMT -5

IVAN BRAGINSKI

because one is the loneliest number that you'll ever do

Most people hate winter. I like the cold. It's like all the snow and ice and crisp cold air understands me. No one understands me, the awfully terrible and scary Ivan. No one wants to, either. And I don't blame them. If I were normal and I saw myself as a different, I would run away just like everyone else. I can't approach anyone. No one approaches me.

I’d like to be able to ask humanity why, why why why why this awful side was given to me. Why me, of everyone? But I know that answer to that. Because I was a doormat. Because I became a monster. The only person I can ask why to is myself. Why did I make myself into that monster? Why? I’d also like to be able to ask people why I don’t have any friends.

Too bad I know already.

You can cut a fuse short, but you can't make one grow longer. Why oh why did I cut mine? Now I can't even handle the most pathetic of all insults without threatening to pound their face into dust. I wish for a time machine to be able to go back and change into a more assertive person instead of a bully. Maybe I would have friends.

All I can do is sit and observe how normal people are like. And so I sit. I sit and watch as everyone else chatters away with their friends and companions, complaining about the weather. Once in a while I'll catch someone's eye, and they look like they're about to scream in horror and say something like "Everybody run! Ivan looked at me! He's gonna kill us all! Run for your life!"

Waiting for the bus really sucks. Come on, stupid bus, please just hurry up and come over. I want to go home. I want to go to bed. I want to get away from all these people in groups. I want to get away from all these people who live in fear of me. And then I realize that these are just little things that are there because I don't have something much much bigger.

I want a friend. I don't exactly know how it's like to have a real friend. I've never had one before, but I've seen people. And to be honest, it looks fun. Having someone who'll willingly keep you company and talk to you and genuinely like you. Friends don't have to wait for the bus like I do.

I wait alone.

[bio]

Last Edit: Feb 10, 2014 23:16:40 GMT -5 by м е ш

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{ a l o n e } in the cold | briar & pumpkiny Feb 8, 2014 1:02:21 GMT -5

Post by Deleted on Feb 8, 2014 1:02:21 GMT -5

CAPONE ELFINSTONE
SEVENTEEN & DISTRICT FIVE & FEMALE

I shot for the sky
I'm stuck on the ground
So why do i try?
I know I'm gonna fall down

______________________________

"Be more like Esra, Capone," my mother said this morning as she scowled at me.

It's always about Esra. Never me, never Capone. Even at school it's Esra, Esra, Esra. No one can seem to get over her! What is it? What is it that makes Esra so alluring? I don't see anything. She has the same brown eyes as me, the same chocolate brown hair, the same golden skin as me. Maybe it's that childish roundness of her face, or the twinkle in her eyes. Do I not possess the same beauty as Esra? I suppose not.

A rock that I've been kicking clatters on the sidewalk. I'm coming closer to the bus stop and I can see a figure already standing there. I don't keep my eyes on them long enough to see their face, but I can tell that they're male by the lack of long hair and their clothes. Not that I care about what they look like; I couldn't care less about anyone but me.

Oh great, company, I think bitterly. I reluctantly keep moving towards the stop. I know that whoever this person is, regardless of their personality and mood, they're going to get on my last nerve.

Try to make a good impression, I note to myself. Maybe one less person will hate you. There's no need to add onto your growing enemy list.

I'm close enough now that if I were to reach my arm all the way out, I could touch the boy's shoulder. When I take a closer look, I don't recognize the boy at all. He must be younger than me, not in my grade. But surely I would have seen him in the hallway, but I never paid much attention to passing students, after all.

I force a dazzling smile onto my face and say, "Hello," cheerfully.

~~Agggg so museless. x3 I'm sorry I'm tired and it's late at night, so I may edit this later.~~

______________________________

I thought I could fly
So why did I drown?
I'll never know why it's coming
Down, down, down

^{Template by Briar.
Lyrics "Down" by Jason Walker ft. Molly Reed.}

Last Edit: Feb 8, 2014 1:02:40 GMT -5 by Deleted

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{ a l o n e } in the cold | briar & pumpkiny Feb 9, 2014 9:56:24 GMT -5

Post by м е ш on Feb 9, 2014 9:56:24 GMT -5

IVAN BRAGINSKI

because one is the loneliest number that you'll ever do

Since people approaching me is so uncommon, I actually have a list of things to do when they do. Greet them, smile, and watch them try and get away as quickly as possible. They always run. And when they do bother to stay, it's an awkward "friendship" that they're in simply out of fear. I feel like I already know the end to each story of people coming to me.

Usually the only people who don't fear me are the ones who don't know how I was, how I am. The girl who had just walked over to stand next to me; I've never seen her before. If I don't recognize someone, chances are they don't recognize me. And really, I don't have anything to do but watch the others.

Sometimes I feel like I know them just by how I've seen them. I probably don't. But after observing them and how they act for years and years, don't you think I should know? Ivan, there's not much time to be thinking about your life. You have another person near you. Make a good impression.

I don't want to seem like a stalker, so I only try and look out of the corner of my eye. You can never really see a lot from there, but I do manage to make out a head of dark hair that's a bit lighter at the ends. And then I don't have to try and sneak a glance anymore. She turns her head to me and smiles.

The last time someone ever smiled to me? I can't remember. Even if her smile is fake, it makes me feel better. Oh how I'm sure I look just stunning right now. Can I just imagine how stupidly depressing I look? Smile back, Ivan. Only if just a little upturn of the corners of my mouth counts as a smile.

"Hello," she says. Cheerfully, too. When's the last time someone spoke to me cheerfully?

"H-hi...?"

I can't even hate myself enough for how that came out. Stuttering. Insecure-like. Even going up in a question at the end. Oh well, at least I actually got something out. Whatever works.

[bio]

blehhh i don't even know what i just wrote

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{ a l o n e } in the cold | briar & pumpkiny Feb 9, 2014 23:45:33 GMT -5

Post by Deleted on Feb 9, 2014 23:45:33 GMT -5

CAPONE ELFINSTONE
SEVENTEEN & DISTRICT FIVE & FEMALE

I shot for the sky
I'm stuck on the ground
So why do i try?
I know I'm gonna fall down

______________________________

My smile almost turns into a smirk when he says, "H-hi . . ?" My smile falters a little at his shy tone, but I manage to brighten it up again.

That's when I really get a good look at him. The boy - I'm not sure he's a boy, really, probably a man - is huge, way bigger than me. He doesn't appear intimidating to me - no one can intimidate Capone Elfinstone. What do I, of all people, have to fear?

Nothing.

"I'm Capone. Who are you? I like to know the name of who I'm talking to," I say.

I grit my teeth and force myself not to roll my eyes. Although I would like the bus to appear instead of making conversation, a little chatting can't hurt. Maybe being nice to someone would improve my bitch reputation. But I like being a bitch: you don't have to care, and it's easier than being nice. I don't know how Esra manages.

All humans are mean, and those who are nice choose not to acknowledge that they're mean. Nice people deny their humanity and try to be above humans. I gag at the sight of them - I can't stand liars, and all kind people are liars. Doing nice things is natural, but being nice all the time? Anyone who is nice all the time is a liar.

______________________________

I thought I could fly
So why did I drown?
I'll never know why it's coming
Down, down, down

^{Template by Briar.
Lyrics "Down" by Jason Walker ft. Molly Reed.}

Pumpkiny
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If I leave my grin behind remind me, that we're all mad here...and it's okay.

{ a l o n e } in the cold | briar & pumpkiny Feb 10, 2014 19:11:27 GMT -5

Post by Pumpkiny on Feb 10, 2014 19:11:27 GMT -5

HAPPINESS IS FLEETING

___________________________________________________

Andesite Teslan

DISTRICT5 | FOURTEEN | FEMALE

As I walk through the streets, snow falling lightly on the ground, I bury my head in my coat and scarf, wishing desperately to be home. Tears trickle down my cheeks, my eyes red. School had been miserable for me today, just like it’s been every day for the past few weeks, ever since Lorete got ill. The kids now know nobody can protect me, and let’s face it- I’m too weak to stand up for myself in the end.

Run, run, little bitch, they laugh. Run, run, little freak.

I shake my head to clear these thoughts, to get rid of the taunts. All I want is to get on the rumbling, smelly bus I ride home each day, back to my home where I’ll make a roaring fire. A roaring, crackling fire, that sounds nice...

But looking up, there are butterflies in my stomach. There are older kids at the bus stop. I suppose that’s expected, given that I haven’t arrived here at my usual time, but still, I can’t help but have a shiver run down my spine as the kids tower above me. Maybe I can befriend them before they look at me and decide they hate me.

I walk over to the boy and the girl, looking up at them nervously.

“Um...hi. I’m Andesite.”

(Sorry about the short intro- I'm working on my homework and this at the same time.)

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Last Edit: Feb 10, 2014 19:11:50 GMT -5 by Pumpkiny

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{ a l o n e } in the cold | briar & pumpkiny Feb 10, 2014 23:04:41 GMT -5

Post by м е ш on Feb 10, 2014 23:04:41 GMT -5

IVAN BRAGINSKI

because one is the loneliest number that you'll ever do

To tell the truth, I don't really want to see her reaction. The girl looked and sounded pretty confident, and what would a confident person think of this reply of mine? It's barely there, but I can see it; a falter of that smile. Even though it's gone just as quickly as it was seen, I know it happened. Great job, you've taken the first step to another opportunity wasted.

"I'm Capone. Who are you? I like to know the name of who I'm talking to," the girl, Capone, says.

Who am I? I'm not too sure, actually. That's a question that I'm still pondering myself. Of course, I know my name. But what lies beneath that? Is there anything more to me than just scariness? I don't have to answer that, right? She's just asking for my name.

And I don't exactly want to tell anyone my name. Facts spread fast, so maybe this Capone has heard of the name 'Ivan Braginski'. What if it was from a rumor? Prior experience tells me that rumors get really screwed up in a short amount of time. But really, was there any other choice?

All I have to do is tell her my name. Name. And not sound like I did before. The only good thing people have ever said about me was that I was good at observing and sensing how people feel. The Capone girl has this irritated stress, even when she's smiling. Don't mess up. You have limited time here.

"My name's Ivan," I manage, and I'm pretty proud of that. At least my shy-ass tone is gone. Should I say more? Not wanting to come off as those people who give short direct answers to the other's questions, I decide that I'll be the one to ask something this time. "Uh, how are you?"

Before she gets the chance to answer, another girl walks over. She's younger, much younger, so she couldn't possibly have heard of me, right? Right? “Um...hi. I’m Andesite,” she says, about as nervously as I was. Today's probably my lucky day. Two people approach me. Two.

I don't want to ruin this moment here. All I can do is wait for Capone to say something to Ande... Ande what again? To Ande something.

[bio]

Last Edit: Feb 10, 2014 23:12:28 GMT -5 by м е ш

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{ a l o n e } in the cold | briar & pumpkiny Feb 10, 2014 23:23:43 GMT -5

Post by Deleted on Feb 10, 2014 23:23:43 GMT -5

CAPONE ELFINSTONE
SEVENTEEN & DISTRICT FIVE & FEMALE

I shot for the sky
I'm stuck on the ground
So why do i try?
I know I'm gonna fall down

______________________________

"My name's Ivan," the boy says. "Uh, how are you?"

I manage to maintain the smile on my face. "Oh, absolutely jolly," I reply in a saccharine voice hinted with sarcasm. I was, in fact, not jolly at all. I had to take the bus, of all things! I guess My mother is too caught up in Esra's after school activities to give two shits about me. Yeah, thanks, Mom, you suck. But I wasn't going to let my satisfaction show through my cheerful mask.

A dark-skinned girl with curly black hair approaches us. She is smaller than me, and definitely younger. She is pretty, I must admit. But the way she looks up at Ivan and I makes me want to giggle. She is the definition of nervous. But instead of pointing this, out, I smile sweetly at her.

"Um . . . hi. I'm Andestite," she says.

Andestite. What a strange name. My name is a little strange as well - seriously, who names their kid Capone? My idiot parents. She is very awkward compared to me, all smiley and confident. Then again, most people seemed awkward to me.

"I'm Capone," I say, a little irritated that I have to introduce myself again. But I cloak my slight irritation in a smile. "Did you two have a shitty day or something?" My question is blunt, but hey, it never hurts to ask a question. And it's not like I care about hurting peoples' feelings.

______________________________

I thought I could fly
So why did I drown?
I'll never know why it's coming
Down, down, down

^{Template by Briar.
Lyrics "Down" by Jason Walker ft. Molly Reed.}

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Merchant

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{ a l o n e } in the cold | briar & pumpkiny Feb 11, 2014 17:36:56 GMT -5

Post by м е ш on Feb 11, 2014 17:36:56 GMT -5

IVAN BRAGINSKI

because one is the loneliest number that you'll ever do

Right when the first word comes out of Capone's mouth, I know it's sarcastic. "Oh, absolutely jolly." Even though it's laced with brightness, there's a hint of sarcasm. Did I do something wrong? I don't know. I never know, really. Something comes out of my mouth and everyone is all shocked and horrified and I never really know what exactly I did.

When the younger girl comes and introduces herself, I can tell Capone's irritated. "I'm Capone," she says again. "Did you two have a shitty day or something?"

A shitty day? Has there ever been a day that wasn't shitty? Even when I was a little boy, life sucked. No one ever liked me, not even Mom or Dad. When I was growing up, life sucked too. Everyone bullied me, including my own sister, and Mom and Dad still hated me. And now, life sucks like it never has.

Natalya just gets meaner and nastier every passing day. Irunya just gets stupider. Mom and Dad just hate me more. They can't wait until they can kick me out of the house. Everyone else, well, the just fear me more and more. There isn't even anything to look forward to anymore. I'm just living with the hope that something will happen. With my luck, nothing will.

Every day is a shitty day.

And that's when I realize I had said that out loud.

[bio]

er, here's a short one...

Last Edit: Feb 11, 2014 17:37:50 GMT -5 by м е ш

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{ a l o n e } in the cold | briar & pumpkiny Feb 13, 2014 0:48:14 GMT -5

Post by Deleted on Feb 13, 2014 0:48:14 GMT -5

CAPONE ELFINSTONE
SEVENTEEN & DISTRICT FIVE & FEMALE

I shot for the sky
I'm stuck on the ground
So why do i try?
I know I'm gonna fall down

______________________________

I pick up a strand of hair and twirl it around my finger, examining the golden blonde color that darkens as it reaches my scalp.

I'm so pretty, I think. And I have no split ends. That's an accomplishment.

As I am lost in my thoughts, I hear, "Everyday is a shitty day."

I'm pretty sure it came from Ivan, because the voice is too deep to belong to Andestite. I look up and tilt my head to side a little and raise an eyebrow, as if to ask, Why? I'm not sure Ivan will get it, so I ask, "Why?"

Surely it couldn't be bullying: who would bully someone who looks like Ivan? Seriously, who's dense enough to do that? Not even I would do that, and I'm a bitch and I know it. But for me, being a bitch helps me avoid bullying.

~~Bleh so short. Sorry, it's late and I'm tired. x3~~

______________________________

I thought I could fly
So why did I drown?
I'll never know why it's coming
Down, down, down

^{Template by Briar.
Lyrics "Down" by Jason Walker ft. Molly Reed.}

Pumpkiny
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If I leave my grin behind remind me, that we're all mad here...and it's okay.

{ a l o n e } in the cold | briar & pumpkiny Feb 14, 2014 18:16:11 GMT -5

Post by Pumpkiny on Feb 14, 2014 18:16:11 GMT -5

HAPPINESS IS FLEETING

___________________________________________________

Andesite Teslan

DISTRICT5 | FOURTEEN | FEMALE

“Every day is a shitty day.”
I stay silent, listening to the conversation between the older two. I agree with what the boy says, and I give a slight nod in his direction. It is getting colder by the second, my body a shivering mess. My ears burn and my legs are numb, and I wish I lived somewhere warmer, or at least had decent clothes. There’s only so much ratty jeans can do to protect you from the cold.
When is this bus going to come already? It’s already late. Hope it hasn’t broken down or anything.
“Why?”
I look up at the girl, Capone, who has innocently asked the question. I curl my lip. She asked why? Why is every day shitty? Because we’re all poor, all cold, and we’re all fucking misfits. At least I am. I don’t know about the boy, or Capone for that matter, but I know where my place is. It’s being miserable. And I’m destined to be that way forever.
I want to desperately scream these words at her, but I barely manage holding myself back, choosing to simply clench my fists and look at the tall boy, awaiting his response ,as the wind howls.

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{ a l o n e } in the cold | briar & pumpkiny Feb 14, 2014 23:12:59 GMT -5

Post by м е ш on Feb 14, 2014 23:12:59 GMT -5

IVAN BRAGINSKI

because one is the loneliest number that you'll ever do

As soon as the words leave my mouth, I regret it. Wow, look at what position you've put yourself in, Ivan. Have fun trying to make friends now. Add it to your surroundings. Cold and windy and harsh. And then the bus will come and they'll go and you'll be alone again.

"Why?" asks Capone, which is probably the worst question I could have asked for. If she yelled at me and told me her life was fifty times shittier than any life I could even think of, at least I could take it. I have to answer a question here. I really do know why, though. It's just if I really want to say it or not.

Every day is just a looping cycle; always the same. Wake up, be hated. Go to school, be feared. Come back home, be ignored. Go to bed, be alone. Maybe this would be different if I were normal, like the others.

The others. They have their faults. Some are the mean girls who hang out in cliques and pick on others. Some are too stupid. Maybe a few of them are friendless. But I don't know anyone else who has crowds of people running away in fear from them.

And then I wonder if Ande and Capone are just like the others. What if they were? Bounding around with groups and groups of friends, partying all night, and being too happy to notice us who aren't so lucky? They couldn't be, right? None of us have that true and to be honest, kind of stupid cheeriness that the others have.

So what could I say? I don't know?

That would be an utter lie. I know why every day is shitty, and I think I know that by the way Ande curls her lip, she knows as well. None of us really fit into this world. The world's kind of like a play, and everyone's supposed to play a part in it. Except for us misfits, who're just those people who stand awkwardly in the corner of the stage, not knowing what to do.

There's stuff wrong with me, okay? Something's wrong and I'm not 100% sure what it is, but something is terribly wrong. And it's the reason behind all of this. "I guess there's stuff wrong with me," is all I can say. Maybe Capone and Ande will ask me more and I can just answer that. Hopefully they'll just leave it at that.

[bio]

Last Edit: Feb 14, 2014 23:42:10 GMT -5 by м е ш

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Pumpkiny
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If I leave my grin behind remind me, that we're all mad here...and it's okay.

{ a l o n e } in the cold | briar & pumpkiny Feb 17, 2014 15:03:34 GMT -5

Post by Pumpkiny on Feb 17, 2014 15:03:34 GMT -5

HAPPINESS IS FLEETING

___________________________________________________

Andesite Teslan

DISTRICT5 | FOURTEEN | FEMALE

“I guess there’s stuff wrong with me.”

That I can empathize with. Everybody knows I’m not 100% sane, as they think I’m the stupid, innocent girl who’s all rainbows and sunshine. Part of it is true, as I tend to get caught up in my own little world. That scares off people I want to love, making me desperate for human contact to the point of insanity. But I often never get it, and so the bitter side that has been hidden deep within me has been fed all these years.

“There’s stuff wrong with everybody,” I say, giving the tall boy a small smile. “Stuff wrong with me, stuff wrong with you, stuff wrong with life in general. The world is shitty.”

I sound like I’m crazy, don’t I? Good job, now you’re going to scare them away too, you idiot.

But what exactly is wrong with the boy? I mean, he’s silent, sure, but that doesn’t exactly seem to be a disadvantage. But what do I know? Nothing.

I turn my head away from the teenager, and I stare at the streets, looking for any sign of the bus. It’s coming, even though it’s just a dot spewing smoke in the distance. I have limited time.

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{ a l o n e } in the cold | briar & pumpkiny Feb 19, 2014 14:41:16 GMT -5

Post by м е ш on Feb 19, 2014 14:41:16 GMT -5

IVAN BRAGINSKI

because one is the loneliest number that you'll ever do

"There’s stuff wrong with everybody," says Ande. Of course everybody has something wrong with them. No one's perfect. And to be honest, nothing really is perfect. The word 'perfect' is just a fantasy of something impossibly positive. People will say they just saw a perfect sunset or something. No they didn't, they never did, they never will.

There'll always be that one baby crying and ruining the entire scene, or maybe a breeze that's too cold. Sometimes I feel like I'm that perfect-scene-ruiner. And while I'm pondering about all these imperfections, I catch Ande giving me a small smile from below.

"Stuff wrong with me, stuff wrong with you, stuff wrong with life in general."

Life. Was life created to be perfect and always correct? I think it was. But something went wrong in it's birth and made it this incorrect and imperfect mess that everyone has to go though. She continues. "The world is shitty."

I don't think there's been a time where someone else has thought this same kind of stuff. Every time, they stare and think I'm extremely strange to think that what a beautiful world could possibly be shitty.

There's stuff wrong with everyone.

But then why would I be so different? Because the stuff wrong with me was more wrong than everyone else's. A chill of the wind brings me back to reality, and I realize that I've been silent for more than a usual break between words. "I just think," I say after another pause, "that some people have more things wrong with them than others."

"Like me."

[bio]

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Pumpkiny
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If I leave my grin behind remind me, that we're all mad here...and it's okay.

{ a l o n e } in the cold | briar & pumpkiny Feb 19, 2014 18:01:43 GMT -5

Post by Pumpkiny on Feb 19, 2014 18:01:43 GMT -5

HAPPINESS IS FLEETING

___________________________________________________

Andesite Teslan

DISTRICT5 | FOURTEEN | FEMALE

"I just think that some people have more things wrong with them than others. Like me.”

He says so, but who is he exactly? Everybody accentuates their own pain, sometimes myself included. But then again, this boy doesn’t seem like the type to be melodramatic. He’s more...humbled. Yes, that’s the word I’m looking for. Humble. Humbled from pain. And then I remember something while I'm staring at my shoelaces.

“My dad says that for every single thing wrong with somebody, there are usually three things right with them. So if you have a lot of things wrong with you, you must have a lot of things that are right.”

I break my gaze with the ground, jerking my neck to look at him once more.

“I can help you find the good things about you, if you want.”

I can’t help but have what I expect a goofy grin on my face as I say this, but I can't help it. because this boy...he might be my chance to have another friend. To have someone to help, to belong with.
Someone to take the pain of loneliness away.

I await his reply eagerly, while a million possibilities run through my mind.

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Last Edit: Feb 19, 2014 18:03:34 GMT -5 by Pumpkiny

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{ a l o n e } in the cold | briar & pumpkiny Feb 21, 2014 19:10:38 GMT -5

Post by м е ш on Feb 21, 2014 19:10:38 GMT -5

IVAN BRAGINSKI

because one is the loneliest number that you'll ever do

Ande's gaze is on the ground as she speaks. "My dad says that for every single thing wrong with somebody, there are usually three things right with them." Really? Was there anything right with me? Not that I can think of. I'm a misfit, someone who can never be anything good, they say.

The world is cruel. Everyone says they love equality and say that everyone is born equal. They play this act until it actually comes to the test. When they see someone like me, they run and hate and whisper even when they usually say that everyone should be treated fairly.

"So if you have a lot of things wrong with you, you must have a lot of things that are right," she says, lifting her eyes off the ground. A lot of things right about me? Like what? From what everyone says, nothing's right about me.

No one thinks I have anything right with me.

Except... maybe this girl

"I can help you find the good things about you, if you want."

And I almost let my jaw drop at her words. Wordless, I can't even think of how brave Ande is. What did I look like to her, standing big and tall and intimidating? I would've never had the courage to offer someone like myself help. Good things about me. Ande could be a friend.

A friend. Just think about that. For the first time, a friend. "T-thank you," I choke out. "That would be nice if you could."

[bio]

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