Strait Jacket Child's Stories

Writers Block

2008-03-11T02:02:59Z

I don’t really feel that good tonight.
Something inside isn’t quite right.
I’m feeling depressed
stories suppressed.
No way the words can flow.

So I here I sit, staring at that blinking cursor.
The rhymes run dry, stories no longer sure.
Finger stumbles
mind mumbles.
Curse my mind.

Awesome

2008-03-10T21:59:22Z

Angel wings, and Demon tails
White hot stars, and Dragon scales
Epitome of Mystery.
Shining glittering memory
Open meaning glowing bright
Magical powers
Extraordinary Light.

The Tank II (AP 7091)

2008-03-09T15:34:30Z

After what felt like an eternity the lid of the tank was thrown open and rays of light pierced the goo. Arms grasped her deadened ones the grasp feeling like pins on her skin, the pain of her wounds coming back tenfold and the light in the room burning her eyes. Every sound was magnified, her heartbeat rang like a drumline in her ears, footsteps sounded like thunderclaps and whispers like screams. They let her fall to the floor and she just lied there, biting her tongue to keep a whimper from escaping, waiting for the light to deaden, the sounds to fade away, the pain to ease. It took thirty seconds according to the wall clock that ticked noisily for her to gather enough strength to get to her feet and shuffle after a white coat back to her cage. Where she fell into a thick black sleep.

The Tank I (AP 7091)

2008-03-09T15:34:10Z

Blind, deaf, numb, disoriented, claustrophobic. The tank made the experiment all of these things. She tried to shift but the goo held her still; lying at an angle. She felt like she should be falling, or standing, anything but this. What was the worst for her, was not being able to hear, or see, or feel. The gel numbed all senses, made you loose even the need to breathe. There was no sense of time, or space, just quiet, still, dark.

The Maze III (AP 7091)

2008-03-09T15:31:18Z

She closed her eyes and tried to blot out the pain in her feet and arms running again into the maze. The walls had retracted some, the floor was as hot as it had been before they shorted out and the wires were still there.. She ran into a web of wires. Voltage coursed through her. It took all she had to tug herself away. Slower now, the electricity making her limbs stupid. She continued taking the uncurtained paths until she reached the door. It slid open and she stood again in that closet like room. She waited for a white coat to come take her back to the cage. He came; wrapped a rough hand around her arm and tugged her along the hall. Instead of leading her back to the cage she was lead into a brightly lit room with a large tank in the center. The tank was filled with a gel that burbled every so often, it had a ladder leading up to the top. Machines whirred beside it. The white coat pushed her forward. “Go.” it barked. She hauled herself forward slowly, climbed the ladder and slid into the goo.

The Maze II (AP7091)

2008-03-09T15:00:17Z

it started to rain. the water made the floor hiss. The water was cold and the drops felt like needles on her skin, the worst, perhaps, was that the water irritated the electrical panels making many paths inaccessible she strayed away from those trying to find her way out, she ran from a shorting sequence until she hit a dead end. The Panel burned her feet the water soaked her hair and clothes, and the electric approached, she closed her eyes took a step and jumped as far as she could, she cut her arms on the walls but landed on a shorted out panel. No more searing flesh, just the prickling after pain she continued to run, the walls closing in cut her again and again, she saw the wire curtains and strayed away making it finally after a minute 13 seconds that felt like a year.
She wiped the blood away from her arm only for it to trickle back down again she wet her thumb and cleaned it again, this went on for a time until the door opened, only it was the wrong door. She was going to have to do it again.

The Maze I (AP 7091)

2008-03-09T14:59:41Z

The white-coat dragged her down the hallway. He shoved her into a small closet-sized room, one that was all too familiar to her. The door slid back to reveal a long narrow corridor with many other branches.She took a breath and darted forward, stopping was not an option, the floor was searing hot. Wrong turns were also not a good idea, the longer you stayed in the maze the more pain they added, razors emerged after the first ten seconds and electric wires curtained some paths. She slipped through the maze, running swiftly trying to picture the exit. Once, only once, she looked up at the net of crackling wires above her that kept her from spreading her wings and leaving the maze. She pushed herself faster when the walls started to enclose on her, she knew that soon the wrong paths would buzz with electricity and the walls, razors extended, would get even closer. A few seconds later, a click and a buzz, and something new happened.

I Don't Care.

2008-03-09T02:34:36Z

Sometimes you start to tunnel into dispair.
My advice is throw up your hands
Look into the cold night air.
stare at the moon and shout I DON ’T CARE .

I don’t care anymore.
I don’t care what you think
I don’t care what you need.
I don’t care why you hate me.
I don’t care if you notice me.
I don’t care if you don’t.
I don’t care if you spit on my face
I don’t care if you kick me when I’m down.
I don’t care if you think I’m stupid
I don’t care if you think I’m crazy.
I don’t care.
I just don’t care.

(Rawr, angst angst angst >3>)

What is it you want from me? [poem]

2008-03-08T04:06:38Z

What is it you want from me?
What do I have to do?
I just want a simple comment
Say it sucks if you have to.

I don’t want much.
Not Fame nor glory
No prize or notice
Just critiques on my story.

I know I’m not the only one
who gets passed through
And trust me I’m sorry
If I’ve ever done it to you.

I know they suck,
So tell me so!
I can’t get better
If I don’t know.

Just how to improve
on little things
you must understand the joy
that comments can bring

So please, next time you see
A story with no reply
be it mine or someone Else’s.
don’t just pass it by.

Bring a Smile to the Author’s Face
Tell them that you like their work
That it had..something
A special quirk

I know they’ll like it.
Perhaps you will too.
You’ll never really know.
Until you do.

AP 7091

2008-03-08T02:04:05Z

Experiment AP 7091 : everything she knew she had learned from the white-coats. She knew that words like “Fuck” and “Shit” were word used when things went wrong, like when you got bitten by the Lupines, or an experiment blew up…again. She also knew that things like her were not to say those words after she received a sharp slap for muttering “shit” under her breath after she was cut deeply from the razor maze.
She knew too that if a white-coat was frowning to expect an especially hard or painful test that day. And if their face was scrunched she was going to be thrown into a cell where they would spray her with a jet of icy water that would prickle her skin, then they would spray her with a cold slippery gel that foamed when they blasted her with water again. Last, if the white-coat’s face was turned up in a grin, or at least not a grimace she would be put through an aerial course, or be put into that tank to be “assessed” or something like that. At least, it was more likely. Now; he was frowning.

The Roommates.

2008-03-08T02:01:23Z

There were ten of them in the room, the crates stacked one on top of the other in a closet sized space, directly below her was a dog boy, his ears fuzzy and elongated, teeth sharp, body covered in fuzz. Now His body scrambled backward while his ears jerked forward, she could see his muscles tensing nervously, he only looked about six. Above her there was another girl about 9, her face and arms were coated sparsely with feathers and her nose came down almost to her lip, as if it wanted to merge and become a beak but couldn’t, then there were the small chicken wings, not useful for flight, almost decoration really. To her left there was a grotesque failure. The poor boy was turned completely inside out, his organs squelched as they expanded and contracted. She was the only real success in the room, other than the dog boy, whom she was sure would be recruited to be a Lupine when he was older.
The steps stopped clicking along right in front of their door; the white coat came in and shoved a key into her cage.

An experiment's introduction.

2008-03-08T01:59:43Z

She was a thin figure in an outfit of a stained white tank-top and blue pants that were two sizes too big. She was doing what most of the creatures like her do, cowering, staring at the door, waiting for a white coat to come in and pull you out of your cage and haul you out to a test course, or an examination room, or the ‘shower’. None of them were promising. She curled her legs underneath herself staring at the gray slurry that was supposed to be her food, it tasted horrible, but when it’s the only thing keeping you alive, you learn to like it. She poked at it with the plastic spoon, she still felt queasy from the new pills they had given her this morning so it was just amusement for now. She watched as the dent she made with the spoon merged together as if there’d never been an indent. She heard the sharp click of shoes against linoleum and quickly tossed her spoon down and curled herself into the corner of her cage, watching the door, waiting for one of them to come in and take one of her roommates.

Please, don't exist....

2008-03-02T04:59:52Z

The Faces, I tell myself they’re nothing, I say they don’t exist. I know they do. They talk to me, horrid whispers. I keep telling myself they don’t exist, it’s just in my head, it’s all in my head. The eyes that stare out from every corner. Please, please don’t exist. If they exist, then I’m crazy, I’m okay with that. If, however, they do exist, then there’s something out there that I don’t think anyone is ready to handle. They’re there, I’m telling you now, waiting to be seen, they need to be seen to be substantial, they need to be substantial to feed. Their chalky white faces ebony eyes and knife-like teeth, haunting my waking and sleeping hours. Please, please don’t exist.

Who Are the McArthurs?

2008-03-02T03:22:05Z

Alisa knocked on the door of the small house. A man who looked in his early fortys opened the door and stuck his head out. “Who are you?” he asked.
“My name is Alisa, I’m looking for Jasper, is he home?” The man grumbled something unaudible and shuffled into the house.
“Come in.” he beckoned. Alisa looked around once inside the house, the furniture was worn and the floor was littered with clothes and books.
“JASPER, COME UP HERE ”
“What is it Pa?” a voice called up from the celler.
“there’s a girl here to see you.”
There was a creaking of rungs and a boy who looked about fifteen emerged from the cellar, he picked a cobweb off his arm and looked at Alisa. “Well now, who are you?” he said, taking in her with his storm cloud eyes like a cat will it’s prey.
“Alisa” she said looking down at the floor.
“Well Alisa, you better tell me why you’re here, and how you know my name.”
“I-i needed to ask you something, and… Officer Parman told me your name.”
“well…then you better follow me out back.”

Alright, let's see where this goes....

2008-03-02T03:01:42Z

“D-did you say it was your Daughter who was missing?” Alisa asked, her voice taught.
The Woman looked down at her angrily. “Yes, My daughter, Camora. She left with that McArthur boy this morning and never returned, it’s four now, she said she’d be home at noon.”
Alisa drew an uneasy breath. “Where did she say that they were going?”
The woman waved her hand, she obviously found any child other than her precious daughter annoying and childish. “I don’t know a walk then a picnic somewhere I think. Officer, can you please send a search party for my dear Camora?” she plead.
“I think that’s a little much at this stage, wouldn’t it be best to wait until tomorrow, maybe she likes the McArthur boy more than she admits.” The woman’s eyes widened in horror.
“TO EVEN SUGGEST !” she huffed and turned to the door. “The higher ups will be getting a note.
Alisa shook her head then turned to the officer, “Um, where do the McArthurs live?” she asked.
“415 Semela lane”
Alisa nodded and headed towards the address