She cannot breathe.
She can see. She can feel. But breathe, she cannot.
Her knees tremble as she watches a monochrome, shadowed figure hovering above her, and feel his hands tighten around her neck. She desperately claws at them, trying to pry his fingers away from her. She knows her attempt is vain. She knows that she is too weak and he is too strong, and so his hands remain there.
Pulses of white flash in front of her widened eyes, and she tries to scream, though the pressure placed around her neck is not helpful. Besides, there is no one around to hear her. There is never anyone around to hear her.
It takes an eternityor a long m
cautiously, you go on with your life,
always waiting with wistful wonder.
remembering, but wasting your time.
pathetic, how you just think of that
endless path that has fallen behind you.
don't go, pretty please, and wither away.
in fact, live life in leaps and never stop,
even when gravity forces you down.
merely remember to seize the day.
Borderline Confrontations - 1 by ChocolateCoatedPinky, literature
Literature
Borderline Confrontations - 1
SCENE ONE
EXT. GARDEN EVENING
Budding flowers shiver in the evening breeze, surrounding a cobblestone walk way. There is an oriental-style shrine, which is old and overcome with moss. Positioned in front is the kneeling figure of Yong Soo. That strained expression is still apparent on his face.
PAN TO A THICK-BROWED MALE
Underneath a wooden structure stands the thin WANG KAORU, 15, a Chinese boy clad in a western suit, contrasting the traditional clothes that the other wears. He hesitates, before walking down the path, stopping right behind Yong Soo.
KAORU
(passively)
You ran away.
SMASH CUT:
INT. CONFERENC
Borderline Confrontations - 0 by ChocolateCoatedPinky, literature
Literature
Borderline Confrontations - 0
TEASER
EXT. THE 38TH PARALLEL DUSK
The land is barren and dirty, but it is RAINING. There is a thin DIRT ROAD that seems to lead to nowhere, and a sign that reads THE 38TH PARALLEL. It seems to be both new and temporary.
There is but one person there, IM YONG SOO, 17. He is a tall, muscular boy of Korean descent. His expression is strained as he RUNS down the road, towards the border.
YONG SOO V.O
I like to think this isn't my fault- that it's
their fault. Yao and
(with malice)
Ivan. Especially Ivan. What he did caused
all of this. Caused my very own brother to
turn on me. Caused Yao to hate me so much.
She cannot breathe.
She can see. She can feel. But breathe, she cannot.
Her knees tremble as she watches a monochrome, shadowed figure hovering above her, and feel his hands tighten around her neck. She desperately claws at them, trying to pry his fingers away from her. She knows her attempt is vain. She knows that she is too weak and he is too strong, and so his hands remain there.
Pulses of white flash in front of her widened eyes, and she tries to scream, though the pressure placed around her neck is not helpful. Besides, there is no one around to hear her. There is never anyone around to hear her.
It takes an eternityor a long m
cautiously, you go on with your life,
always waiting with wistful wonder.
remembering, but wasting your time.
pathetic, how you just think of that
endless path that has fallen behind you.
don't go, pretty please, and wither away.
in fact, live life in leaps and never stop,
even when gravity forces you down.
merely remember to seize the day.
.Skye ;; Pisces ;; Single. .Artist ;; Writer ;; Crafty. .Visual ;; Optimist ;; Canadian. .Facebook ;; Messager ;; iPod Touch. .I am not afraid…I was born to do this.
.idols ;; Jeanne d'Arc ;; Irena Sendler ;; My grandfather.
Current Residence: Canada Personal Quote: i love you more than yesterday, less than tomorrow
wow.
wow.
it's been six months since i last posted a journal (and then i looked at the last journal and saw that i was so stupid and immature and deleted it) and i'm just sitting here in front of my computer wondering what i should say, what i should write, what i should think about this past year.
and i've realized a few things.
that i've grown up a little in these past months. i'm not the person i was in september. i've gathered so many lessons.
i love myself. i love my friends. i'm happy, i truly am. (no one should ever take that away from me.)
i miss you, but i'm okay with that.
I miss who I was.
I miss the girl who laughed. I missed the girl who looked at the upside of everything.
I missed the girl who was happy, and innocent, and free.
I miss the girl who would look in the mirror and not find every flaw.
I miss the girl who didn't let other's words bother her. I miss who I was. I hate who I am.
So, I'm pretty sure that you don't visit dA anymore---but just in case you do, I wanted to say hi <3 I was going through Ayra's old art and saw a comment of yours, so...I guess I'm on a bit of a nostalgia trip. that's about it.