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sonnetthebard · 1 year

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Hatchetfield Choose-Your-Own-Adventure Pt. 5

"Alright. Cool. Let's do this. My car or yours?" You asked.

You knew better than to challenge Casey. They were maybe the most rational person you knew. If they thought it was necessary to go out to Miss Retros at midnight, then it was probably necessary to go out to Miss Retros at midnight. They blinked as though trying to process that for a moment, before sighing.

"I biked. You got space in the back of your car for my bike?" Casey asked. "If not, I can bike and you can drive."

"No we're good." You assured them. "I can take the bike. I assume that we're going to Miss Retro's? Just because you made the comment about the food- not that that matters, I just-"

"You assumed right." Casey cut you off, chuckling softly. "It's not just because of the food. It's a safe space to talk about what we need to talk about."

"Alright." You nodded, grabbing your things. "I'll show you where I parked."

"You parked in the back, right?" Casey told you. "The touring assholes stole your spot?"

You blinked. Damn, even you had forgotten that you'd done that today. Normally you tried to park in front, but the stupid fucking crew of Mamma Mia had taken all of the parking spots. You stopped for a moment, another revelation dawning on you. How the fuck did Casey know any of that? They'd been at the theatre even before you were. There was no way they had seen where you parked. You two hadn't left for lunch or dinner- you'd ubered in.

"Yeah..." You furrowed your brows.

"I can show you where your car is, if you're forgetting." Casey offered.

"That'd be great, actually." You muttered.

You tried to process everything as they picked up their bike and successfully led you out to your car- which you definitely would not have found without their help. This was getting stranger and stranger by the minute, and you had a feeling that this wasn't even the beginning of the weirdness.

As you got into the car, you tried to figure out what to say to them. Where were you supposed to start? Because this whole car thing had you a little freaked about Casey. Of course you still trusted them, but like... where were they getting all this information from? And then there was another question that came to mind. You'd discounted it before, but this whole thing now with Casey and the car had your head doing spirals, and you were wondering what Miss Holloway had to do with any of this.

You knew that Duke was pretty much everything to Casey- him being involved didn't surprise you. And you knew that Holloway was close friends with Duke, which meant that Casey was also friends with her. But as far as you knew she wasn't, like, a confidant or anything to them- no more than she was to everyone else in the town. She could just be a support person, but... there was something spooky about all of this, and you were starting to think that you were kinda going to be the only one there just as a concerned friend.

#hatchetfield #starkid #hatchetfield series #hatchetverse #the guy who didnt like musicals #tgwdlm #black friday musical #black friday #npmd #nerdy prudes must die #nightmare time #nightmare time 2 #miss holloway #duke keane #casey keane #choose your own adventure #starkid fanfiction #hatchetfield fanfiction #hatchetfield fanfic

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thegreeneldritchhorror · 6 months

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Quick notice: If I write down a Plot Idea that interests you and you would like to write it, please do so! No need to ask for permission - I would love for you to leave me a link somehwhere so I can read it but even if you don't, go ahead! Write that fic! Have fun with it!

#hatchetverse #hatchetverse fanfic #starkid #starkid fanfiction

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wigglys-dikrats · 1 year

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i posted my first starkid fanfic! it’s some paulkins fluff involving weed and piano playing if you wanna check it out!

#fanfic #fanfiction #fanfiction writer #fanfic writer #starkid #team starkid #starkid fanfiction #hatchetverse fanfic #paulkins #ao3 #i am officially trash and i do not care #i wanted to write something sweet between two people whom i love and want the absolute best for #enjoy!!#yes i changed my username on ao3 to gary goldstein and i am so proud of it

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imkittyjustkitty · 2 years

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Kitty's Daily Pride — Day 8

prompt ; (gender) envy

pairings ; Ethan Green x Bestfriend!Reader

summary ; It's been more than a day since you've last heard from your best friend Ethan, or from anyone for that matter. Something's not right.

+ reader is gender neutral & no mentions of y/n

warnings ; none i think, reader's freaking out, its just kinda spooky but no violence or anything like that, although the death of many characters is implied/speculated

genre ; angst

word count ; 902

A/N ; are people noticing how obscurely my fics end up relating to the original prompt bc i am nsndfsjk, its okay though because im proud of this ! :D also im trying to include more queer aspects to the stories bc this is for pride after all, sometimes tho i just get an idea i like and run w it lmao !!

also i plan on writing a part 2/bonus little thing either today or tomorrow which i'll link here once i post it !!

do not steal, repost, or redistribute my work in any way.

The last time you’d heard from Ethan was one day, 2 hours, and 38 minutes ago. The longest you and Ethan had been apart or not messaged each other up until now was like 8 hours, at the very most a day. To say that you were worried would be an understatement.

It was just past 7 at night. The amount of times you'd tried to call Ethan's phone was astronomical, but every time you were met with an automated message, not even his voicemail message that you'd grown used to, which somehow made you even more worried.

It was 8:06 now. Not being able to reach Ethan (although you did still try every half an hour or so, just in case), you tried calling anyone else you could think of. The obvious choice was to call his girlfriend Lex, maybe the two of them finally got on their way to California and Ethan had just forgotten his phone, not a very likely occurrence but you were clinging to the theory like it was your lifeline. So you called her, quite a few times, maybe too many, but she never answered. If you weren't worried before, now you definitely were.

But it'll be okay, you hadn't even called his parents yet, so he was probably just with them. Maybe he was grounded and that's why he wasn't answering, right?

It was 8:41 now, and you called his parents, his dad first. You were gripping the phone so hard that your hands started to shake, the ringing of the phone echoing through your head as you quietly pleaded for Ethan's dad to pick up.

No answer. At this point the only thing keeping you sane, the only reason you hadn't completely lost it, was unlikely reasoning. You'd pulled out a scrap piece of paper with a list of names, and why they wouldn't have picked up, it gave you a feeling that was something like hope. So far your list read: Ethan - grounded, Lex - with hannah or maybe phone bill expired (?), Ethan's dad - at work ??

They were reasonable explanations, all things that on any other day you wouldn't so much as bat an eye at. All things that you wouldn't question were there not a pit of suspicion swirling through your stomach and anxiety aching your every bone. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong.

But if something was wrong, you had zero fucking clue on how to handle it. So what did you do? You continued to call people in the hope of reaching Ethan. This provided the only string that kept you tied to reality, holding onto the hope that the next person you called would explain everything and all would be back to normal.

9:01. You called Ethan's mother, a woman who you'd always relied on to pick up calls straight away. No answer.

9:13. You called Frank fucking Pricely, a person you'd met maybe twice, once when applying for a job at Toy Zone, and for the second time (which really didn't count), but who you'd seen briefly when picking Lex up from her job. And of course the asshole didn't answer your call.

You were running out of what little hope you had left, when you remembered perhaps the one other person Lex (and by extension Ethan) associated with. Your old shop teacher, Mr Houston.

9:34. You rang his number, listening to the dial, waiting for the inevitable 'the person you are trying to reach is currently unavailable' message. Once, twice, your phone rang, until...

It stopped ringing, and you were staring right at a screen where the call timer started counting.

You froze. You didn't want to of course, your whole being was begging you to just scream out all your questions, but your throat was blocked and your hands shook so much that your phone dropped right out of your hands. falling, falling until it hit the ground.

You heard a crack but couldn't bring yourself to look down.

"Hey there."

Your eyes widened.

A laugh crackled through your now half-broken phone speaker, "Don't be afraid."

Okay fuck that now you were definitely afraid.

"Who," your voice wavered, revealing just how terrified you were, whoever this was, they sounded eerily familiar, "Who are you."

"Mmmm good question..."

A knock on your bedroom door. Your body flooded with terror.

The door flew open, crashing into the wall, right of it's hinges, revealing a shadowed figure.

The figure was the same height as Ethan, the figure's hair looked just like how you remembered Ethan's to be, the figure stood like Ethan would, with a carefree appearance, hands in it's pockets as it grins at you. And that's what breaks the illusion, that sickening grin. It's the kind that screams ill intent, the kind that makes your blood boil and stomach churn.

That is not Ethan Green.

And now you know, Ethan's not coming back, you can feel it, the truth floats through the air, palpable and headache-inducing. No matter how many people you call desperately, no how matter how many dial tones ring through your phone, no matter hard you wish for this to all be some sort of fever dream.

The feeling you were trying so hard to hide under layers of conspiracy and empty hope is now flung in front of your eyes unwaveringly, Ethan's gone, and he's not coming back.

reblogs are appreciated so much !!

#ethan green x reader #ethan green x you #ethan green x y/n #ethan green angst #ethan green imagine #ethan green fanfiction #ethan green fanfic #hatchetfield x reader #hatchetfield fanfiction #hatchetfield universe #ethan green #black friday x reader #black friday fanfiction #black friday musical #starkid x reader #starkid fanfiction #🌈 — kitty's pride writings #i'll be a leading lady if i get my shot — my writing

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laurrencrisspez · 2 months

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It is... it is finished.... after 10 years..... okay so this is finally my stepping out of this fandom (rightfully so....), I know there's probably no one out there reading this, but in the rare case you are, thank you so much. I cried and bled and worked and cried while writing this story. It brought me a lot of joy and other emotions and reflexions during these past years. Hope to do the same to you.

"That's where you're wrong (FINISHED) - Chapter 31: Antony and Cleopatra"

As ironic and stupid as this sentence is, I'm gonna miss writing stupid and morally ambiguous RPF. -Natt

#starkid #starkid fanfiction #crisspez #fanfic #goodbye everyone #it has been totally awesome!

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lilacthebooklover · 5 months

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hey so do you ever think about the implications of half-infected paul with pokey in his mind? pokey doesn't have a hivemind anymore, they're all dead. but he does still have some semblance of control over his chosen lead- paul matthews. so he watches and seethes and his fascination grows as he observes his star from afar. paul is still a puppet, except now, he has a chance to tug against his strings. i want to see pokey use a human form and talk to him. i want paul to realise that it wasn't just a meteor that caused all of this. i want the dynamic between the most uncompromising eldritch god ever and his resisting blorbo to be explored. i want emma to get involved and go into protective mode. i want paranoid paulkins because while blinky may be the watcher with a thousand eyes, pokey always does enjoy a good show.

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ghostface-knight · 4 months

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i'd like to present my concept of nightmare time episodes where every (or almost every) person is played by the same person, inspired by jaime lyn beatty in daddy. here are some ideas:

peter spankoffski is done being at the bottom of the hatchetfield high food chain, and so he seeks out help to become cooler. he comes across ethan green, who, having just been left by his girlfriend lex, decides, "what the hell, i'll mentor this kid on being cool". when ted spankoffski learns that his little brother is hanging out with "that no-good ethan green", he confronts pete about it, perhaps a little too harshly. his intentions are good, but when has anything ever gone the way he meant? ted, like everybody in town, knows about ethan's reputation, and he thinks he'll be a bad influence on pete. he knows that, if anyone can, pete can make it out of hatchetfield, and he doesn't want ethan screwing that up. so he confronts him, and one thing leads to another, and eventually pete storms out in anger. ted knows if he goes after pete immediately, he'll only make things worse, so he decides he'll let him have his moment of teenage rebellion and then reconcile with him after. a few hours later, ted spankoffski, now drinking his problems away, is approached by a mysterious man who has somehow gotten into ted's apartment. wilbur cross, as he introduces himself, half-convinces and half-mind controls ted into believing that ethan is responsible for this, and the only way to protect pete is to kill ethan. he storms into ethan's tiny basement apartment, wielding his now shattered bottle of booze, and prepared to rip him limb from limb with his new super-powered companion. ethan can hold his own, though, and the brawl is a tough match. eventually, though, ethan manages to get the remaining shard of the bottle and shove it straight through ted's chest. as this happens, pete comes out of ethan's bathroom, revealing that he'd gone to ethan for comfort after his fight with ted. ted bleeds out on ethan's floor as pete holds him.

ruth fleming has graduated high school, and she's lucky enough to find a super chill job as a farmhand on the farm of emma perkins. one day, as they do their usual work (which isn't much, to be honest), they are approached by linda monroe, who is all but seething. she's goes on about how drugs are evil and she will not raise her children in a town where such depravity is taking place. they threaten her off the property, and they think that'll be over and done with. it's not like they've never had to deal with moralistic creeps like her before, and they've always come out the other side. linda comes back the next day with a petition signed by just about every member of the hatchetfield boating society. yeah whatever, perky's buds is not going to be dismantled by some stupid rich people who think they have more power than they do. in the midst of this, they've recently recieved a new client: 17 year old hannah foster. a quiet kid from hatchetfield high, who seems to have joined the smoke club as a way to make some friends. emma and ruth don't think much of it -- neither of them have any qualms about selling to teenagers, and business is business. however, hannah keeps coming back for more and more, and ruth starts to wonder if there's something else going on. back in the linda plot, linda has taken to bringing people out to the farm to protest. each day she (or, more accurately, the people she's hired) come with more and more people holding cardboard signs and chanting. it's really starting to get on emma's nerves. one day, while hannah is picking up her purchase, linda, surrounded by a mob of angry parents and hatchetfield adults, returns. suddenly, linda no longer seems like a nuisance, but a legitimate threat. her followers carry weapons and the menacing smile on her face tells emma and ruth that she isn't messing around. as the mob breaks through the door of the farm house, emma and ruth urge hannah to look for shelter. hannah refuses though, and emma swears her eyes begin to gleam almost inhumanly. the mob makes it to them, and are suddenly thrown back by a wave of psychic energy so powerful it shatters the walls of the house. hannah's new powers (on account of the weed) leave emma, ruth, and herself standing unharmed in the middle of a surrounding pile of groaning, injured people.

i have a few other concepts, but this is getting super long so i better leave it here for now lmao

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adankrivervalleynearyou · 19 days

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Max doesn’t think anyone will care much that he died.

His dad will just be happy to have one less mouth to feed, more money to go to his borderline alcoholism.

His friends- Jason and Kyle- might be upset about losing their quarterback. But as for missing him, as a person and not a concept, he thinks they’ll be happier. Kyle can go off and date Brenda finally, without needing his blessing. Jason... he’ll probably stop pummeling nerds and start befriending them. Like a traitor.

The nerds will most certainly be happier. Micro-Peter and Shit-Lips and what's-her-name with the headgear. They won’t have to live in fear anymore. Maybe without him they’ll get the chance to live in peace. Maybe that was the point of doing this to him.

This is what he thinks about as he walks around the Old Waylon Place those nerds left him in. He’s always believed in ghosts, ever since he was little. When his mom died, he was six and he was convinced she would come back. He imagined every little noise was his mom, whistling through the house as that long, flowery dress she wore trails behind her on the floor. He imagined the creaking of floorboards were her feet, light and dainty on the floor as she hovered through the house.

He had a dream once, when he was almost seven years old. His mother's long, flowing hair and how it might get dirty and tangled as it dragged behind her on the floor. She floated through the walls all the way to his tiny bedroom, Star Wars sheets and action figures scattered about. His mother sat on the edge of his bed as he lay there, young and lonely.

Her fingers ghosted over his face, cold and uncomforting, leaving a chill in his bones. He called out to her, reaching for the warmth his mother used to have, in the cups of tea she would give him after bad dreams as he curled into her side and tugged on her sleeve, chasing that warmth.

That warmth was nowhere to be found then, as he slept restlessly, shivering under his sheets with the taste of hot tea burning in his mouth.

He sits on the old, splintering floor of the Waylon Place, craving a cup of tea. Those nerds really just left him here. Chopped him up like this is some fucking Stephen King novel, like that clown with the bad perm. It’s not like he’s some monster. Well, yes, obviously he’s a Literal Monster, but not... a literal monster.

But as he thinks about it, he wonders- if I was some nerd, like Spankoffski or the anime kid, and there was this handsome sonofabitch pushing me around, I’d want him dead, too.

It’s not like he’s gonna do much with his life. He knows that. He just thinks, maybe, they could’ve given him a chance. The shitty thing is, he thought they were, at first. He really, really thought they put together that whole thing just to make him happy. But then he got stabbed in the back- literally- and now he’s a fucking ghost. Like his mom.

#npmd #nerdy prudes must die #starkid npmd #starkid productions #max jagerman #team starkid #npmd spoilers #hatchetfield #hatchetverse #wrote this in res #fun fact one of the staff called me over while I was writing this #“...is this because you can see me writing fanfiction”

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marvelmaniac715 · 1 month

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Sometimes I feel an overwhelming urge to write an intentionally bad fic as if one of the Lords in Black has tasked one of their Sniggles to write a fic shipping them with their favourite human but the Sniggles barely understand human languages and culture so it’s a mess and the Lord instructs the Sniggle to get rid of it but somehow it ends up published and the author’s note at the end is in character as the Lord going absolutely MENTAL because they also can’t figure out AO3’s system and now the fic is out there forever, tarnishing their name.

#starkid #team starkid #hatchetfield #hatchetverse #the hatchetfield series #hatchetblr #lords in black #the lords in black #sniggles #sniggle #fanfiction #ao3 #bad fanfiction #meta #plot ideas

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aliceisaperson · 7 days

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The curse of wanting to write fanfiction but not having the skill to write something I’ll be happy with and also not having an ideas that are developed enough to write

#ao3 #fanfiction #I just need Lautski content that has my specific taste in fanfiction #lautski #hatchetfield #starkid

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joey-the-boy · 3 months

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me w/ fanfiction normally: put the guys in situations >:) make it all magical >:) make them sad

me w/ fanfiction for the hatchetfield fandom: please god take them out of the situations !! less of the magic please !! I just want them to be happy

#fanfiction #starkid #hatchetfield #hatchetverse #the guy who didn't like musicals #tgwdlm #black friday #nightmare time #nerdy prudes must die #npmd #words by joey

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sonnetthebard · 1 year

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Hatchetfield Choose-Your-Own-Adventure Pt. 2

"We should probably go check on that light." You sighed, looking over at Casey. They sighed, nodding.

"Alright." Casey nodded. "We going to come back up here after, or..."

"Nah, bring your bags." You told them.

You picked up your own belongings, making your way out of the booth. The booth at the Starlight opened directly into the theatre (like a lot did), so you were able to walk right down the stairs, through the rows of seats, and up to the stage. The closer you got, the more your stomach seemed to drop. Something about this wasn't right- you could feel it.

As you approached the curtain, the chanting got louder and clearer. You started to recognize some of the voices- you'd been listening to them all day. This was the cast of Mamma Mia. They seemed to be speaking some kind of Carroll-esque nonsense language- nothing you'd ever heard before. It almost sounded like it took a little bit of something from every language and melded it together in the goofiest way possible. There was something weird about the voices- almost musical. It was like they were all at the same pitch. It sent shivers down your spine, but in a way, it was also inviting. It piqued your interest. It was like you were torn between going closer and running away.

And then there was the light. Now that you were closer, you noticed that it almost seemed to pulse- or fluctuate. It was blue- traditionally a cold color. But like the chanting, you found yourself almost drawn to it. It felt almost as though there was a warmth to it. As you took another step closer to it, you felt a hand grab your wrist.

You pivoted, finding Casey staring at you, eyes wide and full of terror. They seemed to be trying to say something to you- and that's when you noticed they were shaking. You looked to the curtains, and then back to them, before sighing.

#hatchetfield #hatchetverse #hatchetfield series #starkid #starkid fanfic #starkid fanfiction #hatchetfield fanfic #hatchetfield fanfiction #tgwdlm #the guy who didn't like musicals #black friday musical #nightmare time #nightmare time 2 #npmd #nerdy prudes must die #duke keane #casey keane #build an oc #hatchetfield oc

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my-castles-crumbling · 6 months

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Okay but do younger Marauders fans know about the magic that was A Very Potter Musical, or am I just ancient?

#please tell me #it was so funny #harry potter #the marauders era #marauders #marauders era #harry potter marauders #marauders fandom #marauders fanfiction #marauders fic #a very potter musical #avpm #starkid avpm #darren criss

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imkittyjustkitty · 2 years

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Kitty's Daily Pride — Day 11 — Part2/Bonus to This

prompt ; rain

pairings ; None really, but this is a bonus to an Ethan Green x Reader

summary ; How many times did you call how many different people? Someone of sound mind would probably say too many. Or in other words, all the instances in which no one answered your calls, and why they didn't.

+ reader is gender neutral (no pronouns used) & no mentions of y/n (no reader perspective because this is all the stuff that was happening on the other end of the phone that meant people couldn't answer reader)

warnings ; death, descriptions of dead bodies and wounds, car crash, Lex doesn’t have a good relationship with her mum (it’s a big part of the musical so ppl know this but i just wanna put a warning for people just in case), mentions of bullying/harassment

genre ; angst / kinda just spooky or sad depending on how you look at it

word count ; 1564

A/N ; stuff's been tough recently and my time for writing has been limited, but finally i finished something :D !!! so proud of myself !! <3 also new format for these which i prefer , i think it looks v funky !!! :D

do not steal, repost, or redistribute my work in any way.

7:15.

It’s like the screeching of a dying pig, the half broken phone crying for an answer. It’s wedged beneath his corpse, the ringing muffled by his body which lays over it haphazardly, combined with the blood that dried up in the speakers.

Wet blood no longer drips, now it just lays there, dried out, just like him, a thick river of it pooling from his open mouth.

He’s long gone, but his phone keeps ringing and ringing and ringing, begging to be picked up, begging to be answered. But no such luck.

He doesn’t rise from the dead to answer the desperate caller, he doesn’t ease their worries. No, he just lies there, another life lost in that hell of a shopping centre, his whole future thrown away in seconds.

A cruel, undeserved fate.

8:06.

“Someone’s calling.”

“Really, who? Let me see.” The dark haired girl leans over the console, gently taking her phone from her sister’s unsure hands.

Her phone screen is cracked beyond viable repair, and all she can make out is a few digits in the caller’s number.

She has to hold back a shudder, a sick feeling churning through her stomach. The numbers don’t look quite right, but still suspiciously similar to her mother’s phone number.

She doesn’t hesitate to dismiss the call.

She takes a deep breath, an action meant to calm her down, but instead pinches regret at her every junction as sharp pains stab at her sore throat and bruised torso.

Hissing in pain, she hand's her phone back to her sister.

The car swerves slightly as her attention briefly leaves the road. Her sister freezes up with wide eyes, terrified of what would happen if her sister's attention were to draw from the road again.

"Lex... Lex It's ringing again."

Cursing under her breath, Lex leans over to her sister, reaching for the phone. But it seems Hannah's too focussed on the screen, perhaps trying to figure out the number, to notice that Lex is motioning for her to pass the phone.

'Hannah he-"

Somewhere between one of Lex's hands leaving the wheel, and the road curving to the right, she slips towards Hannah and the car loses control.

Swerving in incomprehensible directions, Hannah squeezes her eyes shut, cradling her head in her arms, crying, begging that when she looks back up that everything will be okay.

But Lex freezes for a few moments too long, her eyes wide and wounded body rigid. Unmoving, frozen in terror, but her mind is reeling.

She lived long enough to get out of that fucking mall just to die in a car crash because someone refused to stop blowing up her phone.

Metal screeching. Heads meeting the dashboard of the car. Limbs thrown out the windows. Everything is flashing and bright, but also dark and all-encompassing. It's blinding and piercing and painful and unforgiving.

And yet her phone still rings, unaware of the horrors it’s bestowed upon the two girls.

8:41.

His phone sits on his bedside table. The calls are coming through of course, no internet issues, no funny coincidences with multiple people trying to get through to him at the same time. No, it's nothing about divine intervention, rather just the universe having a slight sense of humour.

Cruel humour, yes. Cold, unforgiving humour that costs lives and laughs at those who deserve help and pity. And not even those who deserve good things, but rather those who do not deserve such horrible things.

Of course the person calling this man does not deserve such a run-around from the universe. But the universe does not care, the phone still remains ringing.

And so he sleeps a peaceful slumber, blissfully unaware of the fact that he has been made a father without a child. While the only person who can perhaps warn him of something, try to set off an alarm in his mind, is left without a single thought.

He may find out through the police, a cold and brutal band-aid will be ripped off, he will be told matter-of-factly that his son is deceased, and the officer who delivers the news will see it all as just another unfortunate occurrence. Not a single semblance of emotional connection will those people have with his son.

Or maybe he'll never be given that piece of mind. Maybe he wakes up days after now and only then feels something may be off. It will lead to a town-wide search for his son, which of course will come up empty handed.

It's sort of anticlimactic, how the only thing that stands between this man and finding out that something happened to his son, is the fact that he puts his phone on silent while he sleeps.

9:01.

Not unlike him, her phone also rests on silent. She had shoved it under her pillow after too many messages. All angry, rude, condescending, all from family, employers, neighbours, supposed 'friends'. Everyone and their mothers tormented the poor women, and she was sick of it.

So she finds herself trying to push the bathroom door closed as quietly as possible, after a calming shower, trying not to wake him in the bedroom.

The second phone of the household makes it's debut, the phone that belongs to the woman that is desperately trying to lift the far too heavy weights off of her shoulders.

The phone vibrates far too quietly underneath the pillow, as the woman lets out a sigh from the hallway. For a moment, fate teeters from side to side, will or won't a phone finally get it's answer? The mythical scales bounce back and force, as the women does the same.

Does she go back to bed, and keep pretending it's all okay, her only reliefs being the nights she spends away from everyone else, thinking and willing herself to move on? Or does she stay here, where she can live in that place, her world of peace, for just a little while longer?

The phone begs for an answer, but the buzzing never reaches her ears.

She takes a deep breath, closing her eyes thoughtfully.

Her light footsteps don't make a sound as she turns and softly walks away from the bedroom.

The protective bubble she places herself in each night floats around her as she walks further and further away from the bedroom.

And so the phone continues to buzz, pleading for an answer that will never come.

9:13.

The ringing of the phone echoes through the empty shopping centre.

Did the owner of the phone deserve the death? Hey who the fuck knows anymore, he was an ass sure, but isn't death a bit far?

But that doesn't matter anymore. Yet another phone is left unanswered, it's owner's blood painting the floor, a canvas of crime and pain. His phone sitting in his pocket, untouched. After all, a dead person can't answer a call, that would be absurd.

The ringing sings on, whistling through the carvings of murder and suffering that lay in his bones.

9:34.

The ringing calls out through the stagnant halls of the house, a house that is currently inhabited by four people, but nonetheless soaks in eerie nothingness, a silence born out of unspoken fears and just plain awkwardness.

A man and a woman sit next to together, sharing a brief glance as they both hear a phone ringing. The man sighs, and gives the woman a look that says she needs to do something, this isn't his place to do anything, he doesn't really fit here. To be fair no one fits here at the moment, after all, there's a lot that's driven and continues to drive them apart, a barrier of stiffness.

Sighing quietly, the woman looks over to another man, saying, "Tom, the phone's ringing."

Tom looks up from where his shaking hands lay in his lap, furrowing his brows, before muttering something along of the lines of 'it'll be no one important'.

Subtly rolling her eyes, the woman leans in her seat to get a view of the ringing phone that sits on a small table beside the front door.

Another woman sits next to Tom, but with a still considerable (awkward) distance between them. She pulls her lips up into a small, closed mouth smile that practically radiates discomfort and the need to please.

"I'll go get it," She gets up from the couch, lightly placing her hand on Tom's shoulder, who at that glances up and watches her as she exits into the room where the phone still rings.

She goes to grab the phone, the screen showing her a number she doesn't recognise, when it goes silent and the screen fades to black. Tilting her head, she shrugs, and walks back to where the three adults remain in a palpable silence.

"They hung up before i could answer, probably a wrong number," She 'smiles' like she did before, remaining the only one standing among the four of them in the room.

Tom nods, his mind preoccupied, not fully hearing what the woman just said, or even comprehending the current situation.

The woman sits back down, and any hopes of conversation is gone. No one knows what to say, or if they should say anything at all, so they remain in the deafening silence.

At least the phone doesn't ring again.

reblogging helps me so much and means more people can see my writing !!! and i love hearing people's thoughts on my writing , it makes me so happy and helps me grow as a writer !!! <3 :D

thank you for reading , have a fabulous day <3

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