http://slow.writerscafe.org/SilentlyDying The original writings of author SilentlyDying en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776208720 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SilentlyDying/1113560/ He opened one of the doors at the end of the hall with as much force as possible, the door banging against the wall.  His hand still wrapped tightly around my upper arm, he pushed me into the room forcefully.  It was a small bedroom, a thin metal bed sitting in corner of the room and a fut.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SilentlyDying/1113015/ I woke up to the muffled rumbling of an engine, my head throbbing intensely.  I blinked slowly, my vision clearing up slowly, going from a cloudy grey to a clear pitch-black.  A car trunk.  I could hear a wheel turning near my head and my body jumped around when the wheels went over e.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SilentlyDying/1110487/ http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SilentlyDying/1110479/ http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SilentlyDying/1110478/ Sherlock's arms snaked around John before he had a chance to do anything about it.  His lips pushed against John's slowly and John pulled his head away."W-what?" he gasped, trying to push Sherlock away from him.  "This... No, I'm not gay, Sherlock, I don't know where you got that idea from.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SilentlyDying/1106159/ "So this is where you live," Sherlock remarked, pushing past John as he unlocked the door.  "How... quaint," he added, his lips twitching up in a small smirk.John nodded, closing the door behind him.  He looked around his small apartment self-consciously, shoving his hands into his pockets.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SilentlyDying/1106117/ John first noticed the dark-haired boy starting at him the second time he walked past him.  John was pacing in front of a tall brick building, his hands shoved deep into his pockets, trying to decide whether or not to enter the building.  The bright neon lights that identified the place as.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SilentlyDying/1105930/ JOHNLOOOOCK http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SilentlyDying/1105230/ You cannot take meNot on these term, I refuse, noI'll go on my own http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SilentlyDying/1101441/ It's noon, when I'm happiest,When my smile is the brightestAnd the world seems at its best.Three o'clock's the same,My mind is far from tame,Life burns hot as an open flame.Then comes six and seven and eight,I start to worry about my weightAnd think of every calorie I ate.Nine o'clock and I'm all al.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SilentlyDying/1020747/ But that's all it was, a life for a life. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SilentlyDying/1018859/ (Verse )There was a girl I knewHer smile lit up the worldBut this smile was never trueOnce she was aloneA whole new side unfurled(Pre-chorus)There was the teary eyesAnd the water-stained faceHer noiseless criesBut not a thing seemed out of place(Chorus)She kept it hidden by dayAnd all through the ni.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SilentlyDying/1012904/ Her friends sat downstairs,Thinking everything was grand,While she pulled a chair to the door,With a rope in her hand.They were laughing and jokingAbout things in the past,And she was hurtingFrom all the pain amassed.She sat down hard,Thinking of all the battles she'd fought,While on lined paper,Her.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SilentlyDying/1012820/ Dear God or whoever it is up in the sky,They tell me taking my life is weak.  According to them, it's also technically murder.  I mean, it is killing yourself.  And, as we all know, God doesn't accept murderers.  I mean, even the most non-religious churchgoer knows that God doesn.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SilentlyDying/1007296/ Damn.  It was like a buzzer going off in my head.  A buzzer and a bomb at the same time.  My head was throbbing and I couldn't hear anything over my brain.  Blinking, I looked around and shook my head to clear it.Ah.  The buzzing wasn't my brain.  Just my flatmate blast.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SilentlyDying/1002196/ It's just another bad dream.The same one that I have every night. There's the wide open desert, thesurprisingly cold sand covering every surface. On the other side of the desert,small and almost unnoticeable against the length of the landscape, is a greybuilding. Or at least I think it's.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SilentlyDying/1002046/ Stole the title from a song by my babes (aka Foster the People), yep. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SilentlyDying/1002038/ Dear Everyone Who'll Listen: I guess I'm sorry that it's come to thisAnd, though I tried, I couldn't be stronger.Right now I wish I'd have confided in you,Maybe then I'd have lasted longer. But really, I don't think that would help,I'm in too deep to understand.(For you, that is, thou.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SilentlyDying/1001350/ Please, when I die,I'd appreciate no lies.You never loved me,That much was plain to seeWhen I cried clear,Did you not hear?Of course not, you ignored me So very blatantly.Sure, I was fineAs I said many a time,But darling, you have to dig deep To find the secrets that I keep.Yes, they're shown o.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SilentlyDying/1001339/ I tried to escape last weekI almost made it, tooSo close to getting out of hereThis life I live was about to changeI saw Death right in front of meRight there, so close I could touch himAnd I started, smilingWith a wave, I moved forwardBut alas, it wasn't my dayDeath turned his headIgnorin.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SilentlyDying/998095/ As polite as can be,They all ask how I am.And just as politely,With a tug of my sleevesOr a shift of my bracelets,I reply that I'm fine.But my hidden wrists say something else.The hatching and criss-crossingAcross the once-smooth skinPortray a story of hatred,Not for them but myself.And if only they.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SilentlyDying/998091/ My own little white tabletsLying blankly in a clear plastic bottle,An escape begging to be let out.Take one, two, maybe threeAnd get rid of the pain.Your headaches?Gone until it's time for more.Take some and you're gone,Flying high above everyone else.Take enough and leave this lifeFor time and.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SilentlyDying/998087/ Applegate High sits on the edge of town, a large modernistic glass-and-metal building surrounded by the flatest ground to be found.  Seeing as it was the first day of the school year, a steady stream of students trickled in the building, everyone wanting to be on time for at least one day.Ste.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SilentlyDying/981969/ The dark mahogany of my wardrobe door seemed to glare angrily at me as I stood in front of it, thinking.  I was bent over, my elbow resting on my hip gently and my hand on my chin.  After a few awkward seconds of doing nothing, I sighed and opened the door.  A line of mostly colorful .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SilentlyDying/975372/ A story of a girl who reached rock bottom and made her way out of her self-dug pit. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SilentlyDying/975368/ “Cristiano’s gone,” Ethan informed Marcus through the hole in the wall.  “Thank the Lord.”“Cristiano?” Marcus said slowly, racking his brain, trying to place the name.“Greenway’s head.  They got rid of him two days ago,” Ethan.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SilentlyDying/970823/ "It's a lovely day outside, my dear one," Fred mused, rolling a cigarette between his fingers and leaning against the wall of his cell."What was that?" Luis called from the cell next door.Fred pushed himself off the wall and, glancing over his shoulder, walked to the back corner of his cell and tapp.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SilentlyDying/970497/ How are you? I'm fine, thank you.  (Last night I took a razor to my wrist  And bled myself out.  I stare everyday at the mirror  And wish I could stop eating.  I remind myself daily that food  Will be the death of me,  But I cannot stay away.  I tried to .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SilentlyDying/967274/ An artist must follow a process,One that is simple and yet,All the same, so very complex.She starts out by picking her canvas,An unblemished spot among manyAnd enough to convey her work.She picks finally and turns to prepHer paintbrushes and art supplies,Readying the brush in her hand.Next come.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SilentlyDying/955770/ A bitchin' villanelle that I wrote for an Lit class project :) http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SilentlyDying/953442/ Warning: Cannibalism http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SilentlyDying/953439/ Runes from a modern day lay out a story on a contemporary stone.  Hashed out and harsh the marks are cut,much like the legend they sit to divine.  A battle,bloodshed, trial andmuch error to a frightenedwarrior's dismay.  Try, try again, and keep pushingforward with the bruisesfrom you.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SilentlyDying/944495/ The beginning of a beautiful thing. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SilentlyDying/942960/ I've often wondered, when sitting half-asleep,When pondering on my character, on who and what makes me.I've often thought these questions and what the answers'd be. Like, if I was taken, would you care?Or would you, like a damn cat, just sit by the wall and stare?If I ever s.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SilentlyDying/939845/ Mr. Nightingale sat at the teacher's desk, the top buttons of his shirt undone and his hair ruffled slightly.  Papers were stacked neatly in the corner of the desk and Nightingale's thin fingers were sorting them into three stacks.Channing cleared her throat loudly, leaning into the doorframe.L.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SilentlyDying/891618/ Channing Braenn twirled her fingers in her dark hair, trying to keep it from curling into her face. Groaning to herself, she set her school books down on the dirty-white bathroom sink and attempted to fix her now-messed-up hair. She managed to make it more decent, glared at her reflection in the m.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SilentlyDying/891601/ Change is inevitable - except from a vending machine. -Robert C. Gallagher http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SilentlyDying/890469/ I'm taking life by the hand and throwing it down a well. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SilentlyDying/888938/ Yeah, yeah, and I’m alright / I took a sip of something poison but I’ll hold on tight. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SilentlyDying/888935/ Enter Luis, Fred, and Ethan. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SilentlyDying/885941/ Welcome to Greenway County Penitentiary and Reform, a place where all your nightmares come true. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SilentlyDying/885610/ I got this idea from Shawshank Redemption and a misinterpretation of Foster the People's "Houdini". Basically, the main character stages a mass uprising in jail. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SilentlyDying/885607/