What She Wrote

Tear stains scattered across the page

The handwriting shaky at best

Line after line of the same thing

She's worthless not even human

Not worth the tears that would spill

For her, when she was gone away

No she didn't know as she wrote

The pain that she would cause

Or  maybe she didn't care

This life was so unfair and not well

For her, but what she didn't remember

Not for anyone else around her

Everyone, she forgot, has troubles

Trials that plague them at nights

She wasn't a weak person

But the burden felt to much to bear

Like the moon half empty

Her eyes glazed over as she read

What she had written on that paper

That she left on the table for someone to find

What she didn't write was how she was going

That part she left out

What she wrote was enough

And left damage that could not be undone

But it was done

And as her feet swung slightly above the floor

More tears fell onto the paper

As what she wrote was read

When You Think All Is Lost

Welcome to the darkness

Where bleeding is a must

Pain is constant and true

Fear is what you harness

No love is found here

Hatred breeds from everything

Evil is your only friend

Your eyes shed bloody tears

Constantly you are afraid

There is no comfort or peace

Yes welcome to the darkness

Where bodies are laid

But behold a light

Shining forth is the darkness

A hand holding a gleaming sword

Our savior has come to win the fight

miscellaneous

That annoying weird kid with the "Tarantulas are people too!" shirt

He's watching you as you eat your sandwich

To your greatest disturbance he gets up and approaches you

He leans in close and whispers in your ear

"You've got mayonnaise on your shirt"

Now you feel like the weird kid

Now everyone is staring at you and your mayo shirt

You decide to leave your half eaten sandwich

You begin to partake of thine pickle that layeth upon thine plate

It's good...almost too good to be true

That salty deliciousness that fills your mouth with joy and wonder

But Mr.Weirdo is still watching you

You're starting to feel uncomfortable...very uncomfortable

Now you have to say something

You don't want to be a jerk but you're trying to eat

So you get up and walk over to the weird kid who is sitting on the other side of the room

"Dude, you're creeping me out"  you say flatly

"Dude, fine" he says as he gets up and walks out

But before leaving he turns dramatically and gives you a "You're a butt" look

So you go back to eating, but you aren't hungry now

That last look from the weirdy messed up your appetite

So now you sit and stare at your food

Your half gone sandwich and partially eaten pickle

You wonder what you should take from this incident

And decide to go watch TV instead of think

Everyone watches you as you walk out of the room

Before you leave, you turn dramatically...and blow a kiss

The Breaking Point

The asshole cut him off.  He wanted nothing more than to ram into the back of his car.  Why not?  He had nothing to lose anyway.  He pulled up to the gas pump.  He needed gas.  If he was going to drive he might as well get gas.  He unbuckled his seat belt and got out of his car.  He walked inside the gas station and walked up to the employee behind the counter.

"Fifty on five please," he said handing the kid a fifty dollar bill.

The kid took he time taking the money.  The kid gave him a funny look. He didn't like that.  He didn't like the kid at all.  The kid held the bill up to the light.

"Sorry this isn't real," said the kid in a bored voice.

"What do you mean it isn't real?" asked Peter.

"I don't see the stuff on it, that you're supposed to see.

"Bullshit the bill is fine."

"Nope, can't use it sorry."

"Then give it back."

The kid dropped the bill on the counter in front Peter.  Peter stared at it for a moment.  That was it.  Peter grabbed the kid by the front of his shirt and got in his face.

"Listen you little shit, you don't want to mess with me today.  That bill is fine and you're going to use it, and don't you ever fucking drop money in front of someone like that.  Do you understand me?"

"Let go of me!" said the kid.  He was scared.  Good.  Peter liked that.  Peter wanted him to be afraid.  In fact he wanted him to feel pain.  Peter slammed the kids head against the counter.  The kid began to cry.

"You little bitch, don't start crying be a man!" Peter said.

The same thought kept playing in the back of his mind.  The same scene.  Driving up to the accident scene.  Knowing what he was about to see.  His wife, his kids...or what was left of them after the crash.  No he hadn't actually been allowed to see the bodies.  He hadn't been allowed to cross the police tape.  The same scene kept playing over in his mind.  The agony he felt.  All he wanted was for someone else to feel it too.

Peter grabbed the pole that usually held the belt that divided the cash register lines.  He climbed over the counter and before the kid could move he swung the metal pole with all his might.  He hit the kid in the head knocking him over.  Peter raised it over his head for another attack.

He saw another employee standing in front of him.  It was the manager.  He had a gun.

"Set that down nice and easy buddy," said the man.  He was older, probably fifty's or sixty's.

Peter thought for a moment.  Then swung the pole down as hard as he could on the kid.  There was a gunshot and Peter fell to the floor dead.  The manager ran to the kid.  The kid was dead too.

The manager called 911.