Arip 💜

I see four faces. Four colors. Pink, green, purple, yellow, and blue. All staring, all clapping, and strangely, all smiling.

They are cheering for me. They are laughing and yelling, their teeth gnashing in glee.

I look down at myself. I’m covered in someone’s blood. I look and see the bodies of my friends. Lifeless, cold, dead. Their blood is on my hands.

I have the weapon that killed them in my hands.

I killed them.

I wipe the sweat off my forehead and drop the weapon in fear, stepping back slightly, the spotlight follows.

I didn’t even notice the tears streaming down my face. I didn’t know I was sobbing. I didn’t know I wasn’t breathing completely right.

The first thing that crossed my mind was that I needed help. Yes, that’s what I needed. Help. But there was no one to help me. The only help I’d ever get is from the five beasts infront of me.

There was two opera boxes on either side of the theater. One held a man who was watching her, and his expression was of pure amusement and malicious glee. A green apple in his hand.

The other opera box held a normal looking business man, his eyes soulless and blue, and the blue in his eyes seeming to be falling down his cheeks, dripping onto the floor with a soft drip I could somehow hear over the others cheering.

I tried to call out for help but no voice came out. I tried to scream but again, no voice. The man with the apple only smiled, while the normal man stared in silence.

I look down at the green man, his crown perched on-top of his head that made him look more royal than he actually was. He had stopped cheering, and was staring at me instead. He is still smiling. He then holds out his hand.

I felt my legs unconsciously being thawed from the frozen prison they were in, and since I was so weak I fell to my knees. The green was still holding out his hand.

“Wouldn’t you like to join me, little Jay-Bird? You did such a good job with the job we tasked you with..” He cooed in his childish voice, earning agreements from the others.

I took his hand, he grinned, pulling me towards him with a sharp tug.

“You’re in my world now, bitch.”

THISSSSSSS!!!!!!! curate your own internet experience. block them because they’re allergic to peanut butter, block them because they have what you don’t, block them because they dislike your favorite food, block them because you don’t like their layout, block them because you can.

blocking is NOT a personal attack against someone. it’s you curating your own internet experience and catering for your comfort, and you have every right to do that.

you, yes, you!!! you CANNOT tell other people to censor themselves for your own comfort and personal likings. you CANNOT tell them what they can or can’t post. you CANNOT tell them what they can or can’t write. you CANNOT tell them what they can or can’t draw. BUT you CAN block them for whatever reason.

She buys toys for the sick children at her job. She works as a nurse. At a hospital for kids. The entire town ignored the clear and obvious signs of physical abuse she was suffering FOR YEARS and did nothing about it. She has no real connections to anyone because her husband beat the shit out of anyone she ever talked to and herself if she tried to form them.

One day, when she finally fought back, he grabbed a fucking KNIFE to put an end to it.

To save her own life, she stabbed her husband in the fucking throat in the middle of the witchwoods and walked out of there alive and free with blood on her hands.

And she went back to work at the same job he forced her to take because the kids there needed her. She went back to living in the same town that still refused to see her for who she was and what she had gone through.

They all believed he left her and instead of pity, assume she did something to drive him off.

Meanwhile she does not regret what she did. In fact, she secretly hopes he died out there in those woods. As alone as he made her feel.