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Consistency: 08/17/2022
In Discord Challenges
LIZA#1586
Aug 17, 2022
There must’ve been something she missed in her classes back in college or misread in the mountains of books she buried her nose in during her youth - she wonders if she kept every single one of them to read and find the point she’s missing, because she’s studied enough human psychology and physiology to earn her degree and doctorate but Mobius has yet to understand what Elysia finds so special about the view of the sun rising above the city on an early morning. It bewilders her to know how such a mundane activity could bring a smile to her coworker’s face and figuring out the reasons behind it is more exercise to her brain than deconstructing and reconstructing the human nervous system with her bare hands. Mobius likes to think her attention and focus is reserved for work but it’s hard to ignore Elysia’s presence when their office is small enough for two people and the only window in the room is right in front of her work table. The color of her hair doesn’t make her easier to ignore as it’s dyed the brightest pink in the market, as well as the coffee mug she likes to wave around all morning even when it starts to collect dust and leave coffee stains on her desk. Elysia must’ve mixed a perfect set of red and white dyes to create a color so eye-catching and captivating, it distracts even Mobius, whose eyes have never taken off her table during work. Every time Elysia stares outside their office’s window, she’s smiling up to her eyes. Mobius could only wonder what happens behind the glass - if a bird hit an electrical post or jumped across buildings in leaps instead of flying with its wings, or if a cloud had formed the shape of a cat wandering the sky unaware of a stampede of dogs tailing its back. It takes her what feels like millenniums before she realizes she’s staring at the city under pink clouds in a blue filter through her eyes. A thought always invades her mind within those moments. “How beautiful,” and, “That must be why,” but she finds it as a joke she can’t be bothered to say out loud. Until Mobius finds a good reason to spare a minute or two to ask Elysia the questions that always bugged her in quiet mornings shared by two, she’ll sit quietly behind piles of books, stealing glances at the woman who doesn’t hide behind papers to stare at the sky, but at least she has an idea of what might be the answer she always looked for (or so she hoped).
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Consistency: 08/16/2022
In Discord Challenges
LIZA#1586
Aug 16, 2022
467 words 🌸 Mei kept photos of the cherry blossoms blooming outside their classroom in between the pages of her journal. It captured the blue sky of an early morning in March when Bronya once offered her a camera to take pictures of the petals dancing over their heads and falling from clouds. Inside those frames, a younger Kiana smiled, the corner of her eyes wrinkled and cheeks painted red. By the trunk of the cherry blossom trees, Bronya stared at them fondly, a subtle smile plastered on her face. They wore coats even after snow had long gone with the wind and Mei remembered cold hands reaching to hold her face for warmth accompanied with a soft laugh that tickled her ears. Memories of a chill morning remained clearly in her mind, even as the months passed and the cherry blossoms withered and fell to the ground. Mornings turned warmer and Mei spent less time staring at the trees that covered cemented steps, but Kiana and Bronya never changed. Nights continued to last longer than days and silence never stayed too long with Kiana. Bronya stayed with the photographs that never left her journal’s pages, reminding her only of the happiest times of her life decorated in March’s flowers. Laughter and childish banter stuck by her side until pink faded into green, and for every smile that stretched her lips since then, Mei never forgot to pray for thanks. ☀️ Mei reserved evenings for prayers, Kiana knew because she would never leave her room before 7PM and Bronya had told her one evening she tried to sneak inside. At the end of May, no one left the room where Mei once slept. No girl left the door early in the morning or barged into the room uninvited with snacks packed in plastic bags sneaked from the dorm’s kitchen at night. Mei was at home in her hometown now and so was Bronya, miles away from Kiana whose world stopped since. Days continued to pass but Kiana remained in the mornings captured in a photograph when cherry blossoms once fell from the skies and filled the air. For once she wished the time went by faster than it did. The rooms felt empty without her friend’s chatter echoing in her ears. The excitement that once weighed down her chest was replaced with a heavy feeling, and waking up had never felt like a chore until now. But Kiana continued to get up her bed anyway, and although her heart felt heavy and hollow, pictures of memories taken seasons ago kept her awake and looking forward to the next day. July promised her affection in autumn, a winter blanketed in a close friend’s warmth, and for petals to kiss her cheeks in spring. July told her, “Someday, we’ll meet again.”
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Consistency: 08/15/2022
In Discord Challenges
Consistency: 08/15/2022
In Discord Challenges
LIZA#1586
Aug 15, 2022
644 words 🍁 Petunias blossomed on the bushes outside the classroom windows the day Kiana first met Mei. Kiana, whose eyes loved to wander and stare, had not left the girl’s back since the moment she noticed purple hair standing out in a room of black and brown, classes be damned. Kiana caught a glimpse of Mei’s eyes—purple and shy of blue, at the front row seat of the classroom she has yet to be familiar with. It reminded her of anemones, swaying constantly in water as it moved back and forth from the chalk board to the notes she wrote on her notebook. Careful hands and a sophisticated posture carried poise, even in the way she pushed her hair over her shoulders and wiped away eraser residue from her desk. It was rare, the color of her eyes and hair, but so was the thump in Kiana’s chest when the girl she couldn’t take her eyes off of, looked behind her shoulders and flashed a smile. Kiana remembered vaguely that petunias were a deep shade of pink but no redder than her cheeks when Mei waved at her. The world seemed to stop for what seemed like an eternity so everyone and everything looked at her. Winds sneaked past the windows to tuck strands of hair behind her ears and reveal her bright eyes and shy smile, and sunlight slipped through the gaps to paint her face a soft yellow. She must’ve worn a ridiculous expression because she silently laughed up to her eyes but boy, did Kiana not care. She would poke her fingers up her nose and leave her mouth agape just to see that smile. As old and brown leaves ceaselessly fell from branches, so did Kiana, whose heart pounded as loud as the crunch of autumn leaves on pavements on a busy September afternoon. She fell for the wind that carried leaves and flowers from branches and blew them away as it did her. ❄️ Kiana once pointed out the flowers growing outside their classroom. It was hard to see through the blizzard and fog but Bronya could spot gardenias growing out of patches of snow in the bushes by the windows. It reminded her of her childhood when days passed too quickly and the nights lasted too long. As a child, she was always excited to feast and open presents with her friends at the orphanage, and awaited the fall of the first snow in the morning before Christmas. The snowflakes formed outside her window and the pile of snow sinking her boots outside the orphanage was few of the many things that kept her giddy for the rest of the holidays. Nowadays, snow had always fallen long before Bronya was awake. The city lights kept her awake and up until mornings, especially in the company of friends who had no sense of time like Kiana. At her age, homework and video games mattered more than feasts and piles of presents, and the first drop of snow wasn’t as special as it was when she had nothing but the orphanage. Even though time no longer agreed with Bronya, however, it was also because of friends like Kiana who reminded her that holidays never lost their charm. In the middle of the school year for a year-end school project, Bronya developed a hobby of taking pictures. She puts up polaroids of her friends and family above her desk with cheap washi tape Kiana gifted her for Christmas and framed photos of her friends from the orphanage on her bedside table. Beside a photo of gardenias right above her laptop was Kiana and Mei’s laughter shared many nights ago immortalized in a picture. Just as the snowflakes on her window put a smile on her face, it was one of the many memories that kept her warm through a cold and harsh December.
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Consistency: 08/14/2022
In Discord Challenges
LIZA#1586
Aug 14, 2022
494 words You used to grow flowers every night. I remember stories of mythical creatures and gods of Greek spoken by eyes that held the sun and brimmed with excitement. Past midnight was when roses and daffodils grew out of ink in the pages of your journal. You outlined petals with ink, colored pollens in yellows and reds, stretched stems with paint, and kept its roots inside your garden, never to be read by another. Yellow curtains that reach the floor left open, dirt stained rug kept underneath a crowded desk, pencils and notebooks placed inside old shoe boxes under your bed, torn pages that held secrets crumpled at the end of feet. On nights you felt that your heart carried too much weight on its own, you never dared to break the night’s silence. Rather, you never had to say a word. Your pen confessed your worries and told regrets you couldn’t say out loud—you told the moon of the gaps carved out of your heart by friends you never reconciled with, of buses you had to chase without an umbrella on a rainy morning, of harsh words thrown at you at work—and for a while, it was enough. The moonlight’s company was enough and the cold air that kept you awake was enough, until time came that it wasn’t. For the first time in a long time, you stepped out of your bedroom and left your pen uncapped by your journal, not a single flower on its spread. You sought for someone to listen and cared about tales written in the stars. You jumped over fences, tripped on roots, and climbed branches to find someone who would hold your head up when you fell down—and you did. You found her. She was timid and so were you but you spoke proudly and she listened. She never said a word but fascination never left in her smile as you retold stories you once told long ago, and for a moment I saw yourself in her—the girl who read in the silence as the breeze tucked her hair behind her ears. Her gaze followed your hands when you pointed at the stars and traced constellations in the sky, not once looking away. Silence turned into lullabies and the moon was no longer your only company. It must be fate that you two share the same eyes—purple and shy of blue, both curious of what the moon hid behind its shadows. As if she’s a clone of you. Not an hour I spent with you was as loud as you were with her. She must be the person you write constantly in your journals. The person you wished would carry your burdens with you and give their shoulder for your rest. Someone who shared your smile, your interests, and your woes. The stars must’ve heard your wishes and made it come true for I have never seen two faces smile so widely side by side.
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Consistency: 08/13/2022
In Discord Challenges
LIZA#1586
Aug 13, 2022
529 words You once told me you wished nights lasted longer. You said that whenever the sun peeked from the horizon and sunlight blended into the night sky, you wished the dark would push the sun back to the ocean and let midnight stay inside your bedroom. You wanted the dark to stay and paint your bedsheets gray to hide the stains you never bothered to wash. You wished for the hours to stretch out longer so you could stay up and watch the clouds disappear from the sky and unveil a sea of constellations—patterns of stars you’ve memorized by heart and drawn a million times. The moonlight was your blanket when days felt too hot on your skin and at night, the dark and silence was your sanctuary. Past the small gap of your open window, you stepped outside your room and fell into the night and came to me, alert of unfamiliar eyes that may have lingered. On a night buried so deeply in my memories, in a whisper, you confessed your secrets to me. You told me on solemn nights, the moon heard your woes; on days you felt that the world was too cruel, the stars wiped away your tears; and the sky embraced you when pain felt plenty to bear on your own. The grip on your cotton-knit sweater was tight and you held onto your sleeves to contain the excitement you never could. Then you spoke of stories written in the sky. You retold stories of an immortal winged horse tamed by a hero, of a man whose cup gifted by the gods promised eternal youth, and many more tales I can’t recall. Your eyes sparkled like the stars that comforted you in your wake, and when you shared the stories you’ve read in books, I struggled to find the right words to say, distracted and captivated by your satisfied smile. How does the moon reach out to you and erase the frown from your face? How could shadows of mountains and forests, and city lights blinking on the horizon bring comfort to your troubled mind? How does the breeze, even sharp and cold, warm the empty corners of your heart? We talked for god knows long. Under the curious moon, two bystanders sat side by side, hushed laughter filled the air and drew our faces with smiles that hid our eyes. When our voices faded into silence, the night eventually lulled you to sleep and you were laying down beside me, your knuckles against mine, your head on my shoulder. You didn’t know yet but the sun would come up an hour later and the night you so loved had gone away but I know, to you, it never did. You captured the nights in your heart as many of the happiest memories you replay over and over in your daydreams, and there’s a permanent red on my face. These nights were once a secret between you, the stars, and the moon—but ever since you shared that part of yourself to me, I bear your secrets with me too. Now, I stay with you whenever time passes under the moonlight reserved for two.
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Consistency: 08/12/2022
In Discord Challenges
LIZA#1586
Aug 12, 2022
546 words Outside the open window of Seele’s room, closed curtains wave at the stars blinking in the night sky. Inside her room, time has long since stopped. The ghost of a kiss lingering on tightly shut lips leaves Kiana in a trance. A garden of anemones and dahlias bloom underneath a patch of snow. Kiana’s hands still as flowers bloom right before her eyes. The roots must have made their way up to her throat because words seem to never make it out of her mouth and air feels heavy on her lungs. Her lips quiver as she struggles to hold back a breath, cold roots digging deeper into her neck, and the ocean shakes violently in her eyes. “Kiana?“ Seele's voice cuts through the silence. Like thorns on a rose prickling against her skin, it leaves bright red marks on Kiana’s cheeks. Seele speaks softly, almost a whisper, but her voice echoes loudly in her ears. Anxiety ultimately weighs down her chest. In her eyes, there’s only guilt and shame, and she sees it reflect on the anemones growing wider and wider by the seconds. “Is everything okay?” The moment Seele runs a hand on her cheeks, the garden ceases to exist. Bouquets of anemones, roses, and dahlias disappear as quickly as it came and all of a sudden, she’s staring at Seele’s bare face, no garden or snow. Kiana sees that her eyes are wide with concern as she nurses the side of her face with her palm, warm fingers against cool skin. A lingering feeling tells Kiana that it had been a mistake. Kiana thinks—no, everything isn’t okay. The heavy feeling invading her chest tells her she’s not supposed to be here and that that garden is never meant to grow. She rejects the precedent but she lies besides Seele, eyes wide and breath uneven with the urge to seek that garden once more. Her hands are already on her neck clinging desperately for her embrace, but she hesitates. Purple eyes only remind her of a person she once loved because somehow, even as she tries so hard to move on and fill up the space she left empty in her heart by herself, she could never forget her—even when Seele keeps her company, holds her hand, and keeps her warm on a cold night in November. Memories of a promise shared in July only continue to flash in her mind and open a door for guilt to revisit her as it always had. At this point, guilt had become her best friend. Glimpse of anemones and dahlias growing amidst winter and petals of rose against her cheeks pulls Kiana back to reality. Gardens had not bloomed with her and she had not seen flowers grow in patches of snow until Seele. She feels ridiculous comparing who she once had with Seele—Seele who doesn’t deserve to be part of the mess she made—but she’s desperate and lonely and Seele is honest with her. So she thinks—yes, everything’s fine. She’s alright. She leaves the past and stays in the present and until then, past the window sills and translucent glass panes, flowers pull her and give her sanctuary in Seele’s room. The garden convinces her to stay—even if tonight lasts only an hour. ”I’m okay.”
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Consistency: 08/11/2022
In Discord Challenges
LIZA#1586
Aug 12, 2022
558 words The dust on the window smears the tips of Kiana’s fingers as she runs a hand on the pane, gloved palm against dirty windows. Blue eyes linger on the garden outside the room and on the brick roads the soles of her shoes once walked, everything basked in orange sunlight. The light invades the empty room Kiana occupies, alone at the corner where the girl she once was sat. At this time of day, that girl would be jumping in her seat with excitement. As the clock’s long hand passed the 6 PM mark, she would’ve been the first one in the room to stand up and bid the teacher goodbye, unzipped bag carelessly hung over her shoulder, curious eyes clinging on her head. The sun setting behind her back wouldn’t matter and her eyes wouldn’t linger where the sun reached with its light, too distracted by her own dreams to care for the world around her, but today Kiana stares longingly at the sky, silent and solemn as she waits for the night to fall. It’s a view she’s seen so many times, the sun sinking in the horizon while it coats the fields with splashes of blue and pink, strokes of white and orange decorate the gradient sky, and yet she watches the sunset unfold before her, breath held and pupils widened in awe, as if she’s seeing the view for the first time. They say pictures can immortalize moments but it won’t wash you over a feeling of nostalgia the same way as the memory of a chuckle shared with friends between classes on a sunny afternoon. No photographs of a late night snack with friends hung with weeks old washi tapes in dirty white walls can tell Kiana that she once laughed so hard it made her cry, because the memories of her friends’ smiles and laughter over spilled junk food and coke tells her so, and she smiles so widely as she remembers, it hurts her cheeks. Because no matter how many pictures of the sunset she takes with her camera from the corner of the classroom the girl Kiana used to be once sat, pictures would do no justice to the memories of a tight embrace under the setting sun, and it could never let her relive the feeling of uncertainty weighing down her chest when she bid her goodbyes. It’s enough to leave her chest swell with a love she could not explain with words and a love she could not get back. The ocean spilled from her eyes that day, and the setting sun witnessed it all. It was her, the world, and the sun but she’s alone now, the world has left her in a train she tried to chase but never caught up to. The warmth of a promise exchanged in July seems so far away. The sun continues to set but today, Kiana doesn’t cut class short. She doesn’t pack up her bags in record time and pull her friends with her, loud protests passing through her ears, instead she looks back to watch the sun, blue eyes reflecting the orange sky she once saw in purple and gray. Today, and the days that’ll come after, she may be alone but their promise stays with her, no matter how distant it may seem. Someday, we’ll meet again.
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Consistency: 08/10/2022
In Discord Challenges
LIZA#1586
Aug 11, 2022
786 words “You’re late.” Tired eyes greet Theresa at the door. “Where have you been?” Kiana stands before her, arms crossed and eyes glaring. “I was working—I had to stay late for work. You know how it is,” Theresa explains, pointing her head at the folders she carried between her armpit and offers a weak smile. Kiana simply raises an eyebrow in disbelief, the blank expression on her niece’s face makes her stomach uneasy and immediately regret her choice of words. “Sorry, I'll be early next time.” “You promised you would be early,” Kiana deadpans, making Theresa’s face cringe. “But it’s fine,” She sighs. “The party’s over anyways.” Theresa pauses. She spots empty plates left at the dining table behind Kiana, crumbs and remnants of a frugal dinner shared with friends. Paper plates and plastic cups fill up the trash can by the fridge, with some garbage spilled on the floor. The floor is filled with streaks of paper from what Theresa could only guess was from party poppers, as well as more plastic wrappers and crumpled baking sheets. Pillows are scattered on the floor along with a blanket and game console in front of the TV. The couches have been moved and so have the dining chairs. Kiana and her friends had celebrated without her and enjoyed it. “So it has,” She remarks awkwardly, hands clasped tightly on the box of cake for a party she had missed before she makes another pause, carefully stitching the words for her next response. Theresa stares at the floor, the walls, the tables—everything and anything but Kiana's eyes. Somehow, she feels that she’ll be torn apart if she did. “Did Hua come help with the dinner?” “She did but it was Mei who helped with cooking,'' Kiana replies. “Don’t you know that already?” Theresa finally meets her eyes, anger swelling up her chest. “I know that. I was only asking,” She nearly snapped, agitated. It surprises Kiana for a second, ocean eyes glisten under the moonlight, before her blank expression turns into a sour one, clearly displeased. The guilt washing over Theresa prompts her to sigh. “I brought you cake,” She says, changing the subject, and extends an arm to hand the box to the girl. “I couldn't find a bigger one and the shop you frequent to was closed but it’s vanilla ice cream cake with strawberry fillings—your favorite.” She waits a few seconds before Kiana takes the box. The streetlights are barely able to illuminate the girl’s face, making it difficult for Theresa to read her expression, but Kiana moves eventually. “Thanks.” She says then scurries to the kitchen and Theresa follows, the door quietly shutting behind them. They gather in the kitchen. Theresa takes a seat by the countertops, placing her folders beside the empty bowl of what was once fruit punch—or Theresa hopes was only fruit punch. Her niece searches the cabinets for a knife for a minute or two. “Sorry about the mess,” Kiana says to which the woman simply acknowledges with a hum. Fruit punch, huh? She’ll have to ask Hua tomorrow. “Do you want a slice?“ Kiana stands by the basin where she washes a knife for the cake, back turned at Theresa. “I'll save some for you if you want.” Clack! Kiana slices the cake. “You should have some… If you haven’t eaten.” “I'm good,” Theresa says, lips pursed while she figures out a response. “I already ate dinner on the way. I want you to have the whole cake.” Kiana stops to glance behind her back, eyes observing for a moment before it disappears into crescents. She finally smiles this time, it’s subtle and almost unnoticeable. “Thank you,” she says, then stops for a second more. “Thank you, auntie.” “I'm sorry for arriving late to your party. I didn't mean to, you know that, Kiana. If I had known sooner work would take the whole evening, I would have come home by 9 and your party—“ “It’s okay, auntie.” It's Kiana's turn to sigh but it isn’t full of dismay. She smiles at Theresa, no disappointment, no anger, no regrets. She smiles up to her eyes and this time, she doesn’t turn away for Theresa to miss it. “You’re the closest one I have to a family. As long as you’re here, I'm glad. You know that.” She reciprocates her smile, disappointment, anger, and regrets fading away into the night, and a short laugh escapes Theresa's lips. “Happy birthday, Kiana. Belated happy birthday.” Time may not agree with her but fate always brings her back home—back to Kiana. No time or fate can change the family she so loves, and Kiana's smile is enough to reassure her that everything’s alright.
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Consistency: 08/09/2022
In Discord Challenges
LIZA#1586
Aug 09, 2022
"Villy, The Mannequin" 426 words Felis carves eyes into the blank face of the wooden mannequin, careful hands drawing the shape of hooded eyelids with a carving knife, its blade flashing under the morning sun as rolls of thin wood fall into the mannequin's lap. Its pupils stare down at Felis' feet while she carves the eyelids and lashes with quick precision, brushing away the dust left behind her drawing with her tattered leather gloves then smooths the wood with a short piece of sandpaper kept in between her fingers. Its skin is smooth and fair, no wrinkles or imperfections. Hands rest idly on its lap, gloved fingers intertwined, reminiscent of an inventor's hands whose ideas never seemed to run out once upon a time. The mannequin wears a vest on top of its dress and resembles a woman whose hair, brown and unkept, parts in the middle of its eyebrows, revealing its eyes. Its leather gloves and the tool bag that hangs from its belt, torn and outdated, is that of an engineer or mechanic. It gives life to a person who invents machines, creates and tinkers with technology—someone who Felis once knew. Villy was not only an engineer (and she refused to be only an engineer), but she was an innovator and a performer everyone grew to love. The front row seats of her shows filled with anticipation and excitement was the place Felis loved to go—loved to stay. She was life, experience, and memory all at once, and Felis, who loved her so much, lived, experienced, and remembered everything for her. Fate is never kind nor cruel to lovers. It's rather unpredictable and frightening, and frightened Felis was when she held Villy under an orange sky so long ago and lost the love of her life. Villy, the mannequin, remains as she was in Felis' memories—young, brilliant, and curious. Felis aged but Villy didn't and the heart that has once felt love for her passed away with time. As weak and disheartened as she was, she continues to carve her sculptures and masterpiece despite the persistent ache that lingers in her chest. She continues to live, experience, and remember—just as she had vowed to her. Every ache on her limbs reminded her only of how a bright woman's hands that once held her used to comfort her, but now those hands are only wood and cold to touch. Eventually, it'll lose its strength overtime and perhaps one day when its surface begins to crack, Villy may finally grow old and fall in love with Felis once more.
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Consistency: 08/08/2022
In Discord Challenges
LIZA#1586
Aug 08, 2022
"Escape Room" 765 words warning: graphic death The walls painted brown glow an orange color under the sunlight that peaks through the small gaps of the gray curtains. It’s silent save for the constant tick of the wall clock and the clicking of heels echoing throughout the room. The long arrow points at a woman at the corner rummaging through the wooden bookshelves one by one, throwing away the books to the couch and ground as she searches one shelf to another, emptying the shelves with every minute that passes until there’s nothing left to search for. Panicked breath and shaking hands move across the room as the room begins to dim. The sun begins to sink into the horizon and the woman walks towards the coffee table across the fireplace to rummages through the books on the floor once more. One more clue, she needs one more clue and she can escape. At the sound of clicking, she jumps in shock, and from one of the cabinets on the wall across her she spots a typewriter type on its own. Her eyes widened in disbelief. At the fresh ink written on paper, she feels the hairs on her neck stand up in fear. ‘Time’s up.’ The once golden sky outside the window fades into blue and another click resounds from outside the room. Suddenly, the wall on her right begins to move slowly towards her. Blood rushes to her head. In panic, she reaches for the door and frantically turns the knobs with every ounce of strength in her body. She tries - no budge - and tries again for another hundred times until she's crying and screaming and banging the doors with her fists. “Let me out!” She screams with a strained voice into the door. “Let me fucking out, goddamnit!” The furniture on the moving wall falls to the ground and the sound of wood breaking causes her to scream and run away. It begins to cover the door - the air in her lungs and all of her hope for escape vanishes into the night. ‘There’s no way out.’ She turns back to the window catching her breath and tries to break it with her hands but it leaves not even a scratch from her worn-out gloves. She tries the broken leg of the chair, hitting the glass with its foot but it bounces and hits the moving wall and nearly hits her head. “God fucking damnit!” She shouts in between ragged breaths as her body gives in to the stress, her knees falling into the cushions. “Let me out, goddamnit!” She screams, tears running down her face, and hits the windows with all her might one more time before letting her arms drop in defeat. She lets her body fall against the pane. One last time, she looks around the room for the hundredth time and it is only under the moonlight that a flash of gold blinks at her from the firewood across her. Her breath hitches. The key! She hurriedly runs to the fireplace but she trips and falls from the books and ornaments on the floor. A large object falls loudly against her leg, making her scream louder from the pain. She watches helplessly as the heavy weight of the sofa chair digs into her shins, the pain sending a wave of shock throughout her limbs. Another wave of tears fall from her eyes as she repeatedly kicks the broken chair away from her foot, screaming from shock of pain in her legs. The pain causes her to limp and fall as she tries to stand up again and another scream escapes her mouth as the coffee table’s legs hit her arms. The wall shows no signs of stopping as it pushes her to the other side, suffocating her between the broken furniture and books. The sudden stab on her lungs causes her to gasp and cough out blood. She’s barely able to look down to see the wall lamps fallen and stuck against her torso, the sight of blood making her dizzy and slowly losing consciousness. She doesn't have time to scream before the broken glass of the coffee table pierces her head and cheeks, causing her sight to blur and face to go numb. On her last breath, she takes one last glance at the dark sky outside the windows. The scene is artificial - she wishes she had known sooner - but the sight reminds her of the hope of escape. As the sun sets, her life bleeds into twilight. The agonizing pain of broken furniture stabbing onto her body is the last thing she feels before she finally stops thinking.
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LIZA#1586

LIZA#1586

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