Notebook0601

            “I do not want to be a Lady, I want to fight!” I pouted, crossing my arms over my chest. The fabric of the unnecessarily lacy dress scratched at my skin but I was too irritated to care.            “Is that so? Don’t let mother hear you say that.” Rosalind smiled, looking down at me with wisdom only a girl of thirteen could possess. “Personally, I would prefer to be a princess rather than a knight.”              I peered over my shoulder at the party we’d gone out onto the balcony to escape. Hazily, through scarlet and cobalt stained glass, I saw Mother, with her ethereal face and

      I stared up at the clouds swirling above my head; big white balls of cotton candy. I tried to lose myself in their gentle simplicity but my thoughts still crept inside my head. Their spindly, dark fingers scratching at my skull; begging to be let out. I felt the rough scrape of their tongues against the bone, felt the echo of their whispers in my ears. Their hisses and moans were thunderous.      “I’m stronger than them, though…” I whispered up to the clouds; a somber smile on my lips. At least today I am….      “ Worthless…useless…good-for-nothing…ugly…fat…horridR

I am an artist.   I slide the blade across my skin, barely ever feeling it at all.    I was always fascinated by the gentle kiss between metal and skin.    I am an artist; my body is my canvas.     The tools of my trade are unscrewed pencil sharpeners and broken razors.     I mark my skin in bloody, numbing tattoos.     Branding myself with the scars of my emotions.   I am an artist; I make my body beautiful.   With each slice I let out the thing inside; a twisted, dark thing.     It oozes out with the blood, running down my limbs; warm and wet.    It seeps out o

                         Chapter 1.                      Dib looked up at the Hi Skool, a searing feeling of dread creeping into his stomach. The same feeling he always had when looking at the Skool buildings. He feared what was within those walls, what he was subjected to each day. His morbid thoughts about the day ahead of him were interrupted by a shout. A shout he knew all too well. 'Zim....' He mumbled to himself silently and sure enough when looked towards the Skool building there was Zim, being shoved up against it.            Over the years both had realized they were too evenly matched for each other; both were too skilled (or ma

 I hate you Father…I hate you Father…I hate you! I repeated over and over again in my head; willing him to hear me wherever he was. It had been three months since that wretched day and still my blood boiled to think of it. Father had never been cruel to me before then, not even mean. He gave me everything my heart desired, I was refused nothing. I’d been his princess, his pride and joy, and his only child. Apparently he had not remembered this when he sent me away. At least Mother had said goodbye to me, tears in her eyes as she let me go. Did Father have a word or a hug or even a glance for me? No! No, he stayed in his ch