A Whisper Of WorryA Whisper Of Worry by Mugeenman
"The best gift she could have for Christmas is me being there on time." he thought to himself. He'd been away for a long time and was finally making progress homeward. His old green truck pushed forward as he struggled to keep it centred on the lane. The strong winter wind pushing the vehicle towards the middle. Eventually the old automobile gave in, just as another car came by. He swerved to avoid it with success, but at a cost in which his truck lodged itself into the snow bank beside the road. The tapping of wet snow against the windshield became instantly incessant. "How far is the house?" he wondered to himself. His conclusion was a full hour of walking. He quickly grabbed his flashlight and set out, determined to get home quickly. As he stepped into the cold pain of winter he realized he realized that he could take a shorter route by cutting across the snowy field beside the road. But it wasn't a field, rather a frozen lake. But that didn't matter to him, that didn't stop him fro
Safe MadnessSafe Madness by Mugeenman
"Has there ever been a crazy person that wasn't dangerous?"
What do you mean?
"Like most of the time you see people with disorders who always get locked up or put on medication to cut out everything. Has there ever been a person who didn't ha-"
"Never? I mean they can't all be dangerous."
You know as well as I do that that's not true. Especially you, after what you've done.
"But why can't there just be someone who hears voices that don't tell him to do bad things?"
There are people like that, it's called the conscience, even you have one.
What do you think I am? There's no one in the cell except for you...
Artist Blue - You Are Not AloneArtist Blue - You Are Not Alone by Mugeenman
The woods are deep and dark, night has descended upon this planet. “Woods,” exclaims Catherine. “We’re always in woodlands, I swear, first it was Gameworld Gamma, then Shallana, and it just keeps going.”
“Oh hush, I thought you’d feel better after I got us behind stage to meet David Bowie.”
“I still can’t believe it.”
“What? That we met him?” asks Artist as leaves crumple underfoot.
“No, that he had an alien inside his stomach.”
“Hitchhiker, that’s what they’re called. It’s not like it hurt him.”
“You cut it out of him with a broken drumstick!”
Artist holds in a laugh. “I’m no Doctor, but he lived.” He pauses as he sees a green light in the distance, smothered by plant life. They carefully step forward to find a small village made entirely of wood. The beings there are a strange kind of humanoid, with thin fleshy skin, but with green glow
Personal HatredPersonal Hatred by Mugeenman
Look at him. That tool. He's just sitting there on the couch with a girl on each arm, while I sit in the corner, virtually invisible. They only hook to him because he's the generic Jersey Shore bugger, tan skin, sun glasses, and a thin stubble with part of it packed together because of his faulty smirk.
They drink, smoke, all that shit. I hate it. It can't be good for him.
I decide to leave, I go to the washroom to puke up my humanity. I step into the room and take a long look at myself. "Are you okay?" Asks one of the girls.
I look at myself. The tan, glasses, and the stubble. I'm the part of his personality he destroys to impress people.
I'm who he really is, he's what the world made of my body.