Moth_Nebula

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Joined: January 25, 2015
Last Seen: 8 years
user id: 389304
I will be printing witty posters and posting them around.
Because this site deserves so much more<3


Quotes by Moth_Nebula

Christmas Night
 
   "I don't have good luck on Christmas. Something always goes dramtically wrong." She admited to the boy that sat beside her on the concrete, both of them leaned against the brick wall. "Then I'll make this the best Christmas you ever had. Come over, We'll start the fun at the break of dawn." The teenaged boy gave a crooked smile, his green eyes lit up a bit. The girl pondered for a quick moment, she knew her parents would be extremely angry if she didn't spend Christmas with them, but what did she have to lose? The worst they could do was send her away again. "Alright let's go." She decided, and tossed her clearly dyed red hair away from her shoulder, before plopping her bag on it. The boy said nothing but got to his feet and started to head to the back of the building, towards his house, of course.
   
  "Why do you guys have so much gasoline?" She questioned, entering the oil smelling garage. "Eh. My dad, y'know." The green eyed boy responded, to which the red haired teenager nodded in understanding. "Alright. Load up the wagon full of those gasoline buckets." He ordered to which the girl raised a brow, "Buckets?" She sounded amused. "You know what I mean." He snapped back and grabbed the handle of two, landing them in the small wagon. The girl dropped her bag and grabbed one of the gasoline "buckets", she was a frail girl, so just one was enough to hold up. The boy was the one with the amused expression now, but she ingored it and dropped it on the wagon. They proceed to lift and drop until the wagon was full. Then the boy yawned and announced that all they needed to do now was wait.
  
   "Here's the sun. People will start opening Santa's gifts soon, let's go." The green eyes were light and playful, excited about what ever the boy had planned. "Are you doing what I think you are doing?" She asked, a small smile started to creep on her face as she followed the boy who now had the wagon trailing after him. "Depends, do you have your lighter?" He sounded bright, and the red haired girl pulled out her lighter, flicking it for a moment. "This town will have a pretty bad Christmas, but aye, you deserve such a sight." The boy looked up.

    They reached townhall and glared up at the large tree. Luckily no one was out of their house, expect for a few people who were to distracted by their new cars. Well, perhaps these two teenagers would be the ones to change that. Everyone wouldn't be paying attention to the gifts in a moment. Wildly they grabbed the gasoline buckets and and unscrewed the caps, running around the tree and pouring out the liquid. It was rhythm, to grab, spin, and coat as much of the tree as they could. Soon enough they had stopped dancing with the gasoline, simply because the wagon was empty.
    
      The girl grabbed the tissue she had brought and lit it on fire before swinging her hand forward, towards the gas smelling tree. Quickly it lit up in flames, the towering tree and the dry grass around it. The teenagers realized this would quickly spread, and create a grass fire, but instead of correcting their "wrong" they simply watched the magical sight. The red-haired girl and green eyed boy were to mermoized to notice the blaring red and blue lights, or the crawling flames that began to eat at their feet. Suddenly they were engulfed in flames, they skin began to burn in crisp flakes and their scream dulled out the blaring of police cars. Wildly they ran around, on fire and in a panic. Their skin gave a off a horrible smell of burnt flesh, and the girl fell, coughing heavily. Her red hair was eaten by the flames and she yelled loudly and high pitched as she freaked out in her last moments. The boy had a panicked look in his once playful green eyes and he too fell next to the girl, screaming together until their mouths became nothing but fresh ash.

     The police and fire fighters arrived, stopping the fire from destorying anything but town hall. All around he people were confused, how could the spirit of Christmas be like this? The two children were dead now, but they were the ones that foolishly started the fire and try to ruin the Christmas for their own amusment. No one would be grieving for them when they had done such a thing.
2 0 Moth_Nebula Moth_Nebula
story
 They call me a demon. I'm not myself anymore. They are angry at me. They are suprised when I show emotions. Oh well. I am myself even when I am enraged, these emotions are me and if that makes me a demon then I'm glad to serve hell.
4 0 Moth_Nebula Moth_Nebula
sowhat
 They tell us to strive to be our best, but tell us to not be perfect. So we must strive to be perfect, but accept that we never will?
4 0 Moth_Nebula Moth_Nebula
confused
Dream or Nightmare
 
            How did I do this? How could I swallow so many of them? Have I really gone insane, has sewing and breathing became one? I know I shouldn’t leave needles around- but really there was no harm, in fact it was amusing to watch others or I get pricked. But this is not funny at all, this is terrifying.

            I’ve swallowed so many needles. I can’t remember how many were in my mouth, I can’t even remember what I was stitching together! That is all a hazy blur, useless information. All I remember is the sharp pain of those needles going down my throat- some stuck in the wall. Quickly I coughed up a few needles, but those were only the loose ones from my esophagus, spit out by blunt force. So I’m a bit panicked now, frozen in this state of shock and terror. I need to tell my parents. I feel needles poking the soft tissue of my stomach as walk carefully out of my bedroom. Taking a slow inhale, I try to count the metal objects I feel terrorizing my stomach, and a few still stubbornly stuck in my throat. I’m panicking, the pain is real- but the fear is running higher. The wave that drowns me will be made of terror, not pain. I let out a small gasp, taking baby steps towards my parents, because even as careful as I am moving the objects are penetrating my organ. It’s damaged now- who knows what could leak into my poor stomach.

            Before I manage to say anything to my father and mother, I puke in pure spite of stress. Stomach acid, my last meal, various red chunks, and luckily a few needles pour out. The needles had painfully came in contact with my inner neck, and drew a bit of blood. I winced at the sharp feeling and began to speak, only to be interrupted. “What is wrong with you girl? So stressed about something you are going to tell us that you puked? What are you hiding?” My mom asked sternly, narrowing her eyes at the puke, clearly disgusted. I felt a bit offended as a strain of stinky wet red hair blocked my view. Inside me I felt the needles teasing me with the oddest, weirdest pain I ever felt before. I twitched a few times, at surprise inner stabs, before talking. How dare they question disloyalty of me during this? “I s-swallowed needles! M-Mom! I need to go to the d-doctor! Right-t now!” I stuttered a bit, clearly breaking. My dad raised a brow but remained with droopy bored eyes. Mother remained angry, and her expression seemed to harden a bit. “You. Swallowed. Needles? How dare you? Fine, of course will take you to the Doctor, we love you after all.” She hissed, venom was on her voice, like I interrupted something important. I dawned on me they were probably busy fighting, but I was certain they’d head straight for the car. Swallowing tiny swords wasn’t exactly something to be calm about.

            Shaking and squinting as they pricked my insides I held my arms and shuffled outdoors. With loud heart beats I head towards the white low car and opened a door. I didn’t really want to sit down though, for such a movement would cause the needle army to avenge their puked brothers. Instead as I waited for my parents I stuck my finger in my mouth and tried to make myself puke.  It was successful and suddenly a wave of bile and chunks swam past. I hurled into the grass, and fell unintentionally. Rapidly increasing discomfort swept through me. Not only were blades scraping off the top layers of inner skin as it plunged out of my stomach, but the ones left behind bounced in my stomach and forcefully stuck themselves into it. I groaned and went limp in dry grass, accidently landing in my own waste. I knew some would still be dancing around and would eventually reach my colon.  What would happen then? That was a tunnel- if this was bad, oh no. If I were not already shuddering, I would be.

            Where are my parents? I thought, tears started to fall from my eyes. The pain was not going away. Remember that moment of pure surprise and pain when you sticked yourself? That never went away.  I couldn’t pay attention to my surrounding, because my whole body was focused on dealing with the stinging pressure. My parents should be here! They should be picking me up and rushing me to the hospital- then it would be all alright, they would perform some difficult surgery and the pain would be gone, whether I died from overdose of pain pills or they got all the pain pills out. The blaring of my parents angry voices swarmed my ears, they seemed muffled though and uneeded. Their argument was over something so pointless, so useless. Just like my life. With heavier tears, and more collapsing pain, I realized even in my most injured moments. I would die- die from swallowing a thousand needles. This was god’s punishment, I know now, he hated how much I disrespected life- how much I despised it. So he granted my wish in a crooked way.

            I’m going to die. But, I want to, these sharp pains have started to make blood well from my gut and throat and I’m starting to see that I want even know how this razor pointed objects will exit. My family, that always said “I love you”, “You can talk to me”, “You can trust us”, “You can rely on us”, as left me in my dyeing moment. Who knew needles could draw so much blood? I thought in faint attempt of humor.  I wasn’t even coughing up bile anymore, red liquid was just starting to slowly drain from my mouth. I can’t remember if I’m shaking still, I can’t remember where I am. What is this insanity? What is dripping into my organ? It’s ok. It is just pain. It’s simply nerves- I know I am going to lose my life, all I have to do is past the last trial. This horrible, unbearable pain that makes me cramp and fill my gut with acid is worth it. I’ve always felt trapped, this society isn’t accepting, I never wanted to obey Earth’s rules, I never wanted to continue on. Why complete a game that ends the same for everyone? What is the point in running fast  if there is no finish line?

        As I lay in this vomit-covered grass, blood pouring from my mouth, making me taste nothing but warped pennies, I have started to become numb. Mind and physical body, for a faint moment I wonder if it is blood loss but that was quickly forgotten. Looking around, at the back porch, I see my mom swinging  a class cup at my father’s face from across the room, who was reaching for the deathly black object in a holster. At this moment I close my eyes, allowing nothing but the pain to affect me. It is in a way- quite charming, I sickly admit. Leaving this mortal life, for something unknown, but with the price of this terrible slowly fading injury. Of course the mental wound had also been bleeding for a large amount of time.

           I don’t really know now. I don’t really know how to feel, I’m- overwhelmed. The needles just cause discomfort, and the thought of death equals to happiness. But I was so betrayed, I was so alone, I was… stupid. How could I ever think anyone else cared about? Sure, they cared about the presence of me- my parents at least. But they only cared about their daughter, I  never mattered. I never existed. My friends, who am I even kidding? In a time of death I try to lie to myself? My friends are not friends, they never came close to qualification. I was always alone, and in my last breath I will be no different.
It is just cruel fate punishing the worst sinful thoughts from ever becoming actions.
 
 
 
( Based upon a dream )
 Notes:
- I am very scattered brain in both this dream, story, notes, and life. I believe it is because I am losing my grip on reality, all apologies.
I had this dream yesterday night. It is the only dream I have ever remembered and it has drawn me into some thoughts. I always wish for pain, I always wish to die. In this dream I get that, it is very hard to handle but I still choose it over life, in hopes that afterlife will exclude all of life’s matter. However I still wish that someone would care about me, miss me, or remember me, as much as I hate being dependent it is true. In this dream I have hit with the blunt truth that this will not happen, and that all my suspicious were correct. This dream created a real feel of panic and anxiety. Which is something I suffer from greatly. The reason my parents were oblivious in the story, or simply annoyed is because how they act towards me. I don’t know- they want to help me but don’t? How can that work? I think this dream tried to explain it. In the other small part they are busying fighting instead of realizing my struggle. That happens a lot. The glass bit was just a add in for my fear… I feel guilty a lot for such dark thoughts, and it would make sense, for any god or karma, to punish me for it. So swallowing needles without remembering on accident seemed like a pretty tormenting punishment. Not that there isn’t any more terrorifying way to go.  
My “theory”
- The needle problem are the mental struggles I’m having.  My parents are the whole family- how they harshly ignore me, and even seem to taunt me a little, even when I clearly have evidence. Lying in the grass with puke was like laying in my problems and not being able to drag myself out of them because of the mental struggle. Me dying, well, perhaps that is the same- just giving up and accepting myself into the mental insanity. Whether it be my death or the padded cube room.  
 
4 0 Moth_Nebula Moth_Nebula
confused
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