Accommodation drama_The Start of the War_Willow Falls_Almost Gone
Catalog Guide:
Accommodation drama
Bang, thump, clank, squeak. In that order. Stay in accommodation, they said. It's time to come out of your shell, they said. I grind my molars as intoxicated chuckles and bitter tobacco fumes snake through my window lining. The party-goers prowl in packs through coffee-stained university halls, sing drunken discord and slatherwww.onedoor.cc vodka-stained fingerprints across windows. Their sticky purple cider stains cling to my shoes like velcro, leaving putrid puddles of vomit across carpets.Smooth country tunes of Dolly Parton from my Air pods aren't enough to blare out the overly loud conversation between...
The Start of the War
——Kate——Rough hands shook me awake. Screams and running feet flooded my senses as I stared into a usually smiling face now contorted into a grimace. He staged me out of bed, throwing clothes and an old bag at my feet. I struggled to get into my clothes as my blood pounded and my eyes tried to shut. I staggered into the kitchen catching a glimpse of fires and running people through the grimy window. We hurried down the tunnels and into the sewers. As we ran through other families joined us, coming down from the many branching tunnels to join our line. We could still hear the chaos above, will m...
Willow Falls
Willow Falls in itself has never failed to astonish me. Pure white suburban houses, cul de sacs, and freshly cut lawns. The kind of area where you can let your kids go out to play unaccompanied. The entire east side of town was a river in an almost perfect oval shape, spanning over 30 miles. The entire area is encircled by the most beautiful willow trees you can imagine. It is said that willow trees signify resilience in the way they thrive in many environments. When a willow tree’s branches are in danger of breaking, they bend rather than snap to minimize the damages. In the same way, it imp...
Almost Gone
*Trigger Warning: This story contains depictions of physical and emotional abuse, violence, and self harm.Jaelle was leaving again.The cracked leather upholstery rubbed against her bare thighs as she shifted her weight in the driver’s seat of Ray’s Trans Am. It dug into her tender flesh, jolting her with a sense of urgency that overshadowed her fear.She knew she didn’t have long before Ray would snortle awake, roll over, and notice her missing. Then he would be so pissed, he’d probably sling back a few shots of Jim Beam and start prowling the usual haunts, searching for her. How far could she...