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ill do eet but i play by my own rules.
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Oct 13, 2018 09:39
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| # ¿ May 14, 2024 17:35 |
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Paragraphs in fiction are in the eye of the beholder. Even if you follow some hard rule the formatting on this site makes it impossible to look good.
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Oct 23, 2018 10:44
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Not 6666 words Girl scouts were for loving lesbians. She thought of her mom while she bandaged her arm using her teeth to keep tension as she made the knot. All the dykes were in Chappa Kai tongue-job anyway. She was fortunate that one of the first aid kits was in her section of the plane. One of the few things to bounce her way that long day. Wonder where the food tray fell. She had not eaten since the plane went down that morning. Breakfast was being served but she and her family were in the back and the cart never got to her. She’d die for that poo poo right now. Trying to remember a whole day without food only drew a blank. You had food in your purse. All 340$ worth of black leather just dangling there in the jungle. It had to still be hanging to the armrest of an upside down business class seat which in turn was stuck, connected the the tail section of the plane, upside down and missing the roof. Not going back there. No no no Lifting up her arm to bandage it she caught a whiff of her own stench. It was welcome for most of the day it seemed the world's only fragrance was jet fuel. It seemed the plane was a pinata of only of jet fuel and peoples clothes. She was not going back to the only food she could think of. She had spent most of the day unconscious and upside down in her seat long after the rear section severed from the fuselage and laid to rest on the forested mountainside. She dreaded that seat. Just thinking about it was like being crushed by thousands of pounds of pure fear. If there was a hell, she had endured it there on that location . She couldn’t sleep on planes. Perched by the window it was a beautiful sunrise. The cool grey clouds underneath the burning brilliant sun struggling to light from beyond the horizon. The clouds were uneven and some lay on top of the others. It was fine and natural until she saw wet rocks propping up the clouds and being roughly the same elevation as the plane and not particularly far. “M’am are we near mountains?” she asked the stewardess. Looking out the window the stewardess replied “No I don't think so. We did just start flying over New Guinea. Maybe it's just the clouds.” Maybe it's just the clouds. Now she really regretted reading about the recent spate of pilot suicides. Looking out the sea of clouds, the spine of a mountain went zooming by. Well you didn't get clean soon enough. Putting her mouth in position to make a scared “M'am” but before she could say anything there was a tiny jolt. The wing up to the engine had been sheared clean off. The plane immediately started banking in that direction. She looked to her husband and son sitting in her row. What could she say? “Honey wake up you are going to die.” didn't seem appealing so she said nothing as the plane started to roll. All her wants, her dreams her desires were about to end.That sinking feeling wasn't just her window seat becoming the bottom of the the plane. To top it off the overhead bins burst forth and covered her in luggage. She was smoking. It was a big, half empty room and she was a “GUEST OF HONOR.” so nobody seemed to care. The FAA was doing a reenactment of what happened next with toy models that looked like they came from from her uncle’s model train set. Taxpayer money. How something weighing half a million pounds and traveling at 500 mph came to a stop was due to trees, lots and lots of trees. The plane hit the mountain at an angle almost if it was trying to land on it. Trees in front and trees nearly horizontal below. The other thing she noticed was the lack of press compared to the trials. After all planes fall out of the sky all the time, it’s just not as often are the survivors immediately mass murdered. So she rolled around, strapped to her seat in a blender of luggage and screams. Her boys pleas being the most proximate and the one most seared in her memory. After the plane slid through the ground the metal tearing and the outside lights rotating gave the sensation akin to an ant in a copying machine. It lasted what felt an eternity and she kept waiting to be knocked out on her way to the forever after. The tail and its fins caught the trees stronger than the rest of the heavier fuselage. About two or three rows and the entire rear ripped off and stopped rolling. Seats, luggage and people started spilling out of the section. This is about the time where her official testimony ended. She was hit in the head by something while the tail section shifted around for a stop. Her husband and son were both alive somewhat miraculously but things went black. If she ever wanted to get back on the h-train and needed some money one day she would tell the truth or some version of it but for now “I don't remember anything.” Beyond that was a convenient gently caress off. She watched her son slide down the hill towards her husband. The distance between her seat and him was nearly vertical. They both had mud on their pants from the wet ground between the roof of the cabin and their stop near some trees. Her husband was about to beckon her down when there was screaming from the forest. “Help! Help me! They killed all the passengers!” she yelled as she emerged, covered in baked blood. Suddenly her eyeball was ejected from the socket as an arrow pierced her head. She fell to the ground. A couple of men wearing nothing that could be called clothes came out of the jungle. Armed with bows and arrows they then turned their sights on her husband. “Wait.” as he put his arms out in a pushing motion. They then shot him several times in the chest. He toppled over and her son went crying to him. “Daddy” he yelled as an arrow taller than he was impaled him. She watched this through the cover of two cloth airline seat. Her right hand starting shaking violently and she tried to scream but nothing came out. A boy no more than 8 moved to the front of the group. Wearing only something that resembled a hula hoop around his waist, his uncircumsized penis waggled about. He had a little bow which he used to shoot her son’s corpse, except missing every time. The arrows bounced off the ground and ricocheted off the body's. He had these odd blonde curls. They bleach his hair? The gently caress The group of the men turned their attention to the part of the plane nearby. She hid under the seats. Some of them attempted to reach it but the muddy cliff was too slick and they fell back down, rejected. They then left until it was just the boy and what she assumed was his father both looking around at her family's corpses until they bored and descend down the hill. Time past and she wrongly left the confines of the tail section. Sliding down the mountain she picked up a few cuts. A bush next to a tree provided her cover. Using a first aid kit she started bandaging herself. She thought about her husband. He was a nice man. Though when nice becomes the primary compliment of someone it becomes less of a compliment and more of a condemnation. He had been her sponsor. He could barely summon enough courage to ask her to coffee a few months after she would would have sucked any dick that produced a 20$. Loved but replaceable. As for her son. The purity of something from so impure always stunned her. But the world corrupts and she could already imagine him a grown up frat boy diddling some unsuspecting sorority girl like it was a favor. Always wanted a girl anyway. Despite all this those two fuckers were hers. loving cavemen just took them from her like it was nothing. They did it like it was nothing. Rage filled her veins as whatever happiness and heroin had been drained away. Now she was using the bandage to make a spear out of a branch and a piece of aluminum from the plane. She had seen the blonde boy and his father enter a house made of dead trees and leaves all the way from her spot in the plane. Creeping through the dark and the foliage she made it there and found the man sleeping on his back. She pointed the spear at his heart, he awoke and she shoved it through his stomach all the way to the floor. He writhed with agony and screamed. That was about when walked in, little boy with his little prick just flapping about in the night.
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Oct 26, 2018 08:28
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