Reddit Collection (Fresh-Short #10) by DeYtH Banger (books to get back into reading txt) 📖

Losing Myself

 by Remnant

 

 

My eyes close
I'm holding onto
my memories
and hatred.
my slumber
all alone in my head...
so silent.

I can't explain the way
my tears run blood along my veins
if I let go of my pain
I'll cease to be, give into the plague...

war is coming,
I can hear it in my heart
blood will flow
along the grounds of the innocent,
I can't deceive
the darkness anymore...
I'm letting go, I'm losing control of myself...

you beat me down,
so low and now
I'm crying my soul
I'm losing control.
you led me to
a place where I
can't feel my face...

death is just an anesthetic
for what's to come
a body left behind with no face
feeling numb
all alone I cry here
fading into nothing
all alone I lie here
dying...

...losing myself...

Darkness' Grasp

 by Leah Sarah-May Wells

 

 

I'm swimming all alone in a pool of darkness
and I feel like darkness is slowly pulling me under
I yell for help but no one is there to hear it
I begin to see the water at eye level
and I kick and flail
fighting to stay above the darkness
But the darkness won't let go of its hold on me
and I slowly begin to give in
to the feeling that lies below the water line
the waters starts to fill my lungs
the lungs that once held so much life
yet now they allow the murky water to replace that
I know that this path doesn't lead to happiness
But why doesn't someone grab my hand
pull me from darkness's grasp?
because no one knows I stand at the boundary
the boundary between light and dark
so I give in to the thing that holds me
All of the strength and all of the courage
that I once held in my heart
can't save me from the water
So I slowly slip below the world of conscientiousness
undetected by the occupants of that world
I don't want to fight anymore
I've given into darkness 

Just A Small Cut

 by Kassie

 

 

 

Crimson red fills the bowl and I think I'm going to be sick. 
With every thing spinning so fast I cannot breath. 
Walls closing in and everything fades. 
Fashes of light come by, one, by one. 
Feeling sleepy not knowing your name. 
Not knowing mine. 
There it is. my favorite thing of all this, 
ah the feeling of pain is gone from before and new form enters me. 
Laying here waiting for you to come home. 
I open my eyes and see flashes of you and me from before you went. 
You walk inside. 
You call to me and wait for an answer. 
You hear small light breaths coming from the bathroom. 
thinking it is me, you walk down the hall with a smile. 
the kind that makes your knees go week. 
You walk in. Oh god, is all you can think. 
I'm trying to look up at you but I can't move. 
a cold chill comes over me as you pick me up. 
You say we are going to the hospital and that everything will be ok. 
You rush me in. 
Blood running down. 
The nurse rushes you to a bed so I can lay down. 
I can hear you asking her something. 
But I can't make out the words. 
I feel something cold and wet touch my face then my arm. 
I feel the prick of a sharp object go in my right arm. 
The nurse says that I need stitches because the wound is to deep. 
I feel the thread go in and out through my arm. 
And a band-aid go around and around. 
After I have slept for two days they let you in. 
I can move again and open my eyes. 
You say that I got 76 stitches because the cuts were way to deep. 
And that I almost died. 
I pull off the band-aid and look. 
I see over 20 cuts and begin to cry. 
You tell me its ok and we will get some help. 
About 5 years later. 
We have two to deal with ourselves. 
Jake and Emma. 
A beautiful baby boy and baby girl. 
The scars are still there. 
Some times I wish I could go back 5 years and change what I did do so I can make it right.

THE ICE CREAM MAN

 

Little Johnny got a fudge pop laced with razors.

Susan got an orange pop filled with hydrochloric acid.

Billy got Dip N’ Dots dipped in fire ant poison.

97 more to go.

A new park everyday; new deaths every night.

He was careful, always making false leads, always covering his tracks. He was clever, he was quick. He always made sure the poisons varied, so there was never a link to the ice cream. The hydrochloric acid took two days to kick in and the fire ant poison started as flu like symptoms. The razors, well, he just threw those in as a nod to the old classic poison scheme. He liked keeping them close, but not too close.

Anti-freeze lemon pops; those took a while to perfect, but in the end, he got it right. The chocolate bon-bons that turned them into cement from the inside out he had bought from a fellow down off Bourbon Street. They had cost a heavy penny, but it was worth it, as it took his count down to 80.

In Ashland, Oregon, he mixed a variety of snow cone flavors with sap from the Chobani Tree, causing them to dissolve into mulch the minute their little fingers touched warm water. This brought him down to 50. Picturing the mothers scream as their children dissolved before their eyes at bath time made his stomach clench, but he couldn’t stop. Not with 50 left to go.

Klondike bars injected with South Sea Coneshell venom were next. That one was good; it took almost two weeks for the poison to be absorbed, and by that time, it was too late. The newspapers of Bodi, California called it the most deadly virus of the year; he called it numbers 39-49.

A tar like substance called Godtish that he bought from a wicked looking gypsy filled in the two weeks that it took the venom to work. That went into the Spongebob Squarepants pineapple pops. It shrunk them so little, not even the most powerful microscope on earth could see them. Godtish brought him down to 20.

Jakku seeds went into the sprinkles. Almost every one of the children in the small town of Arnold, California asked for sprinkles. Never before had Arnold seen such a string of mass child suicides. But it was only a tragedy to them, as his count went down to nine.

He was in the home stretch now, so he picked his victims carefully. The twins from Lakeshore got two cones of arsenic. The lonely boy in East Palo Alto got a frozen black widow in his grape popsicle. Baby Gretchen got the last of the Chobani sap.

Five more to go.

He was parked outside Stafford Park. He watched carefully as children ran in and out of the water sprinklers. Then he turned on his music. They came to him like flies to honey. Parents smiled appreciatively as they handed him their money, oblivious to whom they were actually smiling at.

The girl in the pink swimsuit got a chocolate ice cream with Jakku sprinkles.

A boy named Nancy bought a Mickey Mouse Pop with rattlesnake venom.

A brother bought him and his sister matching Spongebob pops.

Anticipating the arrival of the last of his victims, a familiar face caught the man off guard.

“Daddy?”

The man smiled sadly, and then handed the boy his ice cream.

1 more to go.

 

CREDIT: Kathleen Stahler

THE ORACLE

 Note: I lost interest... along the lines..

 

 

This is roughly a true story. True in that it was told to me by my father, rough in that his memory had decayed with age, leaving his recollection of the year 1975 a bit scarred. He asked me to write it down a few years back, but I never wanted to. I’m not much of a writer, and in all honesty his story disturbed me deeply. He died last month (though his death is unrelated to this story), but I wouldn’t feel right if I did not honor what he had asked of me. What follows is his story in his own words. Again, I have no real way to determine the veracity of any of it, but I know my father believed it. Whether or not you do is your decision. 

 

Your great grandfather built the railroad. There was a piece of it that ran behind our house, and if you followed it far enough, you would find The Oracle – if you believed in that sort of thing. No one I knew personally had met him, but everyone’s cousin’s best friend’s boyfriend had their own story to tell. Accounts varied