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PhotographI clutch the photograph tightly in my hand, trying to force back the tears. Why didnt these bloody things come earlier, when I was trying to pretend to care that my great grandmother just died? Why now?
My biological mother (referred to as Kate from this point forward) had taken me upstairs to look through photographs with her. She had been doing so with Sammi, my biological sister, before, but Sammi left for a sleepover. So Kate dragged me back upstairs with her so that she could show me pictures she was trying to use to help make herself cheer up.
I was doing a fairly good job of acting like this mattered to me, laughing when necessary, saying, Oh yeah! at other times. That is, until I see this picture. This one, small, not-even-the-size-of-half-an-ID-card photograph of my other biological sister, Caitlin, is all it takes for tough, strong, feminist, DFWM seme me to start crying.
Only one though runs through my head. Im so ug
That's what I feel when I hear that my great grandmother is in the emergency room, nothing.
But none-the-less, I let my eyes widen and a worried mask overtake my face. I don't really care, but I pretend to. It's not because my great grandmother is old, it's just...She's only part of my biological family. I'm not close to my blood relatives; none of them are family to me emotionally. I don't love them.
I haven't for years.
Yet I continue to act around them. I pretend to be a good little Christian girl for them, instead of someone swinging back and forth between atheist and agnostic. I pretend to be happy when I'm disappointed. I pretend I love them. I try so hard to maintain my façade.
Because as bored as I am with some of them (and downright hate the rest), I need them. I loathe that I use and manipulate them, despise that side of me, but it is neccesary to survive. My biological family provides me with food and shelter.
But you can bet that the first chance to get o
Poland MonologueSo, I was like, totally trying to put this light bulb in once, and, like, it wouldnt go in. So then I, like, tried to turn the chair, but the light bulb, like, still wouldnt go in. So then I, like, tried to turn the chair again. But then when I tried to put the light bulb in, I, like, totally fell. So then I, like, called for Liet to help, but then I, like, remembered he wasnt at my house anymore.
I remembered he was, like, at Russias house, which, like, totally sucks. So I, like, tried to send Russia a chain letter to make him give Lithuania back, but he just sent the chain letter on. God. So then I, like, went to Russias house to confront him, but he, like, wasnt there.
But Latvia and Estonia were like, Oh, its just you Poland. And I was like, Hi, wheres Liet? And they were like, In the kitchen. And I was like, Ohmygawd, thanks. So then I, like, went to the kitchen and found Lithuania and
I'll Never Not Need YouAuthors note: I originally wrote this for a class where nobody knew who the hell Lovino, Antonio, Ludwig, and Feliciano are (*and I wasnt calling them that anyway; I changed the names and genders), so I had to put descriptions of characters in and include things that were necessary for them to get an idea of some of the relations. This really annoyed me because all you APH fans out there have already seen/know these things, but...now Im too lazy to take them out. Just bare with me at those times, mkay?
Romano glanced over his guardians appearance, gaze shifting from his rich brown hair to his emerald eyes under soft lids, to his mocha skin and carefree expression. No.
The grin dropped from Spains face. What do you mean, no?
No, he repeated.
The older nations eyes went wide and sad. But I have to go, Lovi! Benito is st
IowaIf you visit Iowa,
you'll call her fields empty,
but she wasn't born that way.
A part of her was carved out
when she was ripped between Virginia
and the purple mountains of New Mexico.
Her gold hair, she tore it out when she realized
it didn't make her a princess.
She laid her locks strung along every road
leading somewhere else.
White hairs on her cheeks
are scars from winter.
Her hair darkens with the dampness
of summer rains.
The storms are never silent,
but neither is life when there's a tear
in your childhood where
a parent ought to be.
I've been flooded by Iowa's sorrow.
The only way I can distract her from her own voided landscape
is if I hate myself harder than she cries.
She just wants to fly
and I want to bus or train,
not because I fear death, but because
I want to take living slow.
It's the only way I ever feel.
From the air it's hard to watch Earth's hips move.
But Earth can't compare to the country.
That's my girl.
Full grown even when harvesting season's j
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scheinbar is a much-loved and well-known deviant. Just one look at her gallery, filled with enchanting photography, will have you mesmerized. A deviant for over 7 years, Christiane can always be found posting inspirational features as well as regularly commenting on other deviations and encouraging and empowering her fellow deviants. We are inspired and insist that you too stop by and congratulate ... Read More