inkstaineddove

I watch my father tear apart the skin of a clementine and find myself wondering what else his hands have done. The answers I both fear and know, could intuit from the moment I took my first breath. Enigmatic but familiar, as all parents are. But I know where he buried the bodies. At least, I think I do. Does he know where mine are found? Buried where my grandfather’s orange tree proudly stood before, like all things, the parasites claimed it. And when my father looks me in the eyes, with the impish smirk of a boy off to the principals, I believe he does. And I know that if he is to be condemned to hell, or whatever torments li

there's something soothing about being nobody. there's a calming aura emanating from the faceless crowds that aim to swallow you whole. the masses remind that you are nothing, it doesn't matter, just try to keep up. you can lose yourself in that. you can remember what it's like to be free. maybe they're rude with their ready-made insults and a middle finger on display. they don't suffer fools and their displeasure can fill summer night stadiums. but, when all around you is a southern breeze that doesn't like to make itself felt, that thinks every conversation is a game of chess or a play with multiple hidden meanings, you appreciate blu

Potsdam, 1756 Gilbert watched the man before him pace the room in rapture. The king's left hand was gripped tight around his cane, his eyes glued on a map of Central Europe and letters from spies detailing intelligence from various foreign courts. He cursed under his breath. "She's still fucking upset about Silesia." He grumbled. Gilbert sat up straight. A wicked grin cut across his face. "Don't you worry about a thing, Fritz! If we were able to kick her ass last time then we'll be able to do it again! You're the best military strategist they've seen! The Austrians must be clutching their pearls knowing they'll be facing off against Prussia

The clip-clop of shoes broke the silence of the grand hall. Soon voices followed. Loud, prominent voices. "Come on Lizzy," A male with a Boston accent teased. "You know that won't work. How long have we been doing this?" 'Lizzy' glared at her companion. "It's either Liz or Elizabeth you asshole. Not 'Lizzy.' Trust me Alex, it will work," Elizabeth laughed at the mention of how long they'd been doing their job. "Longer than anyone here, that's for sure." Her New York accent intertwined with his Boston one. To passerby's it was the most annoying sound they'd ever had the misfortune of hearing. To them, it was the soundtrack of their lives.

The chosen one, Born on the seventh month, On the day that it died. The Weasleys, Their beautiful seven children, One that they will forever miss. Dumbledore and evil Pivet Drive, Putting out seven lights, As we met him and McGonagall. Weasley with their seven lettered name, How seven loves them. Ginny the seventh of seven children, The first girl in seven generations. Poor Thaddeus Thurkell, With seven children, All Squibs. Seven years at Hogwarts, Full of magic, And adventure. Seven people out of the Shreaking Shack, Once Wormtail was found. Seven obstacles, Leading up to the Stone. Vain Gilderoy Lockhart's, Seven b

A groan escaped chapped lips whilst green eyes fluttered open. A light blinded the girl lying on the most uncomfortable bed she's ever had the misfortune of resting upon. But with this feeling of total discomfort, came a sigh of relief. How Penelope had missed a bed that was so...so common. So normal, one that you could find in every home you dared to stumble into. Instead of that tiny little cot she slept on in the cottage. "Dr. Paige, the patient appears to have awoken," a voice somewhere off to the right observed. "We're checking the vitals now to see any signs of abnormality." Patient? Vital signs? What the hell was all this about? Pene

i. some friends will help you spread your wings. they will cheer as they watch you soar. never once will they see you as icarus heading to his death. those are the ones you keep. others will rip out your wings to replace them with ones of wood, feathers, and wax. they will shove you up - up into the sky and laugh as your erupt into flames. leave them to burn themselves. save yourself from getting scorched. ii. the invisible girl will force herself to be seen. it will begin when she strips herself down. the vulnerabilities will shine through. show off every scar, every crack. she will then dye herself with her true colors. blend in pi