In the end they all turned on me. Or I walked away. Or the money ran out. Or it all just got to be too much. The Writers Club crowd that had somehow morphed into the Degenerates died. We came apart as if tossed by a cold wind. We got a place together as the… Continue reading The Last Bit of Warmth
Tag: Harvard
Addicts
In the dark, we heard Harvard’s CD player. The driving deliberate bass, the whine of the lyrics, the sarcastic pop of the drum, barely there at all. Breathe it in and breathe it out and pass it on it’s almost out. We’re so creative so much more. We’re high above but on the floor. It’s… Continue reading Addicts
By the Crack of Thunder
Sandpaper. I had always thought sandpaper was obnoxious. It took forever. Created heat that burned the hands. Was uncomfortable and not worth the trouble. But when I got home after Chanel’s that day, I found sandpaper and carefully sanded down my staff. I made it smooth, slick and perfect. When I was done, it was… Continue reading By the Crack of Thunder
The Beginning of the End
The next day found us at Chanel’s house. Basic had picked up me and Walleye. Jammy’s mom had grabbed her and Katty. There was still no sign of Harvard, but Chanel had called him and commanded him to come see her. He had fought against it for a while, but she had made her demand.… Continue reading The Beginning of the End
Collision
The event that changed it all, I was not even present for. I had graduated high school and my mother threw me in the car and took me to Milwaukee. She did not want me hanging out with my friends or going to any celebrations. I went to Wisconsin for two weeks, and when I… Continue reading Collision
Lost
That day in group I read my vampire story. He was a power creature. A beautiful creature. Mysterious and dark. He was a tragic beast who hurt those around him and brought despair, and I knew him miserable. So I killed him. In the story, this powerful vampire climbs to the roof of the building… Continue reading Lost
Home
Aimes was reading. Her piece was about heartbreak and pain. It was about loss, and the way a girl could be thrown away and forgotten. Aimes was probably my best friend. We had been friends since the first day of seventh grade, when she came to the bus after school, shell-shocked and dazed. We had… Continue reading Home
