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Driving onto the pavement, the eerie silence enveloped me, suffocated me. I hate night time. I turned off the ignition to my car, and the motor quickly muted and succumed to the quiet. The clock on my dashboard blinked once before it, too, shut off.

12:37 A.M.

Grabbing the backpack on the seat next to me, I stepped out of his car and walked to my door. It was Friday night; in the empty desert lot across the street, the dried creosote swayed with the chilly wind, and the moon let off a metallic in the clear sky above. As I entered the threshold of my home, I tossed my bag onto the couch and stepped over the pile of pillows that had been thrown haphazardly on the floor.

There sat a lone plate on the kitchen counter, still holding a bit of microwaved lasagna from lunch time. Mechanically, I threw the food in the trash and rinsed the plate.

I was tired. I wanted to go to sleep, but it was night. It was dark. It was solitary. With every step I took, the sound of my footstep reverberated off of the tile flooring.

FEB 6 EDIT: Another for the "Still Working on It" pile.

Prompt: Write something about pineapples.

[[Haha. Totally dedicated to Pippy. xDDD]]

"It was gigantic. It was enormous. It was ginormous.

Okay, so it wasn't that big, but you get the idea. It was about the size of a football, and close to the same shape. Although a bit more rounded at the top and bottom, it was a fat, heavy, palm-tree topped fruit of evil.

It was a pineapple. The devil fruit of death, an omen of evil, its juicy yellow insides dripping with the venom of bad karma- it was a true minion of Sa--"

"Hem, hem."

Lance paused, turning to his left, where his teacher stood. A tall, vulture-like lady with graying hair and sunken eyes, Ms. Evans glanced in his direction sharply.

"Language, Mister Adams. Language." She tapped the top of her desk with a ruler, imploring him to continue.

"I was gonna say Sarah! Seriously!" he protested. He glanced to the back of the classroom, eying his empty seat hopefully. Lethargically sprawled across the desk in the corner of the room sat James, who gave him an encouraging thumbs up.

"Just continue."

"Fine. I will. As I was saying, the fruit was cursed. Anyone who touched it was doomed to die a painful death. Like Aphrodite's Apple of Discord, the Pineapple of Doom was fated to follow anyone who ate it. Thus, the story begins."

"Mister Adams, I think we've heard enough of your presentation."

"What? Already?



>Mood Theme: Loss/Unapologetic Apathy

“Lee, get out of bed.”

There’s something in life that must always remain constant- for some, it’s a hobby. For others, it’s a routine. For others, it’s an outcome. Whatever it may be, that one constant can ensure a natural balance. Its something in life that a person can depend on to always be there, promising some shred of normality. Most people don’t really think about their natural balance, but they can always tell when its been disturbed. Its like a hollow in your life; you know that there’s something wrong, that there’s something missing but you can’t put your metaphorical finger on it.

“Lee. You’re fifteen, not eight. I’m not going to drag you out of bed.”

And when a person realizes that their natural balance is disturbed, it takes a lot of effort to get it back on track.

“Its one in the afternoon. Get up.”

I didn’t have to look up to know that it was my aunt standing by my bed, tapping her foot impatiently. I lay still, trying to prolong my slumber a bit longer, but he next thing I know, the curtains by my bed are pulled open, and the depressingly bright sunlight finds its way into my room. I groan, pushing onto my forearms.

“Fine! Fine. I’m up.” She leaves, and I collapse back onto my bed.

I remember back when I was four, when I wanted to be an astronaut. I imagined that I would fly my own spaceship across the galaxy, avoiding asteroids and black holes. I could definitely use one of those right now- a nice black abyss to bury myself in, in hopes of escaping the real world.