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About Traditional Art / Hobbyist Member BuckyFemale/United States Groups :iconmiss-scarecrow-club: Miss-Scarecrow-Club
 
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The light was on in the convenience store of the small road-side town, a beacon of hope to Dan as he pulled up.The trip to his cousin's birthday party was quite a long drive and he was already late so he had to make this stop quick. Walking in to the small store, Dan suddenly felt a stab of guilt in his stomach. It was his job to pick up his cousin's cake but he had forgotten until the last second. He prayed there would be some sort of acceptable cake here that he could pass off as a decent treat.
        "Can I help you with something?" A voice called out from behind the counter. A young woman stood there, smiling at Dan. Shrugging, Dan explained his slightly embarrassing situation. The woman gave a little chuckle before pointing out the door. "The bakery a few stores down is still open, but you'd better hurry." Dan thanked the woman and jogged out of the convince store and headed toward the sign that indicted the bakery's location. Dan noted how quiet the small town was, not that he was complaining. He wasn't the most social person. A sigh of relief escaped his mouth as he saw an elderly lady still up at the counter. He pushed the door open,  bell alerting the old woman to his arrival.
          She smiled up at him from her news paper, "It's a bit late to be picking up some sweets, young man." Dan laughed and asked if there were any cakes. The older woman frowned and took her glasses off. "I'm afraid I won't have anymore baked up until tomorrow, I'm sorry." Frowning and nodding, Dan made his way toward the exit. "Unless," the woman began, causing him to stop and turn around. "How about you help me whip up a quick little cake?" She offered. Dan was hesitant, explaining that he was already late. The elderly woman smiled as she stood up and walked toward the back of the store, "Better late than never, huh?"
          Dan followed her back into the small kitchen where she began to gather ingredients for making a simple cake. The old woman directed Dan around the kitchen and he complied quietly. It was a bit odd, but at least he would have the cake that he promised. After the batter was mixed, the woman motioned for Dan to come and have a taste before she put it into the oven to bake. Taking one look at the bowl, Dan frowned. "Is there something wrong with it?" The woman asked as she rinsed her spoon off in the sink. "Red." Dan said. "Lisa's favorite color is red." Placing the utensil in the drying rack, the woman walked over to her cabinet in search of some food coloring. "I'm sorry, dear," she responded. "I seem to be out of red food dye." Glancing slowly at the knife on the counter, Dan smiled and turned toward the elderly woman. "Don't worry, I know where to get some."
            The cake had baked and cooled before Dan started to frost it. The frosting matched the cake, both being a brilliant shade of red. Happy with his work, Dan said his thanks and left twenty dollars on the counter as he grabbed the cake a walked outside. The old woman remained in her chair in the kitchen, blood running down her neck. She did have to admit, the cake had been a lovely shade of red. Smiling once more as she slid to the ground, the old woman silently wished Lisa a very happy birthday.
  • Listening to: Bing Crosby
Rain poured down from the sky on a cold evening as the old black pickup rumbled its way up the hill, the same as it did every night. As the truck came to a stop, Max slowly turned off the ignition and sat in silence, staring blankly forward as the water that violently splashed against the sandy beach below the hill. His surroundings were familiar, he could easily close his eyes and navigate his way up and down the hill without so much as stepping on a single anthill. He slowly turned his head to gaze at the lone tree that accompanied him on the hill. It was a large maple tree, it's thick branches stretching far from its base. There were no leaves on the tree this time of year, they had all fallen off in the past month in preparation for the cold winter months ahead. Max was fond of the tree, it reminded him of good times that had long since passed. He also hated the tree for the same reason. He remembered her every time he saw it, remembered that the one good thing to happen in his life, the only anchor he had to sanity, was gone forever.

His gaze shifted down to the old rope swing that hung from the largest branch of the maple tree. The rope swayed back and forth in the storm, like a ghost was taking a ride on it. It was a good sturdy rope, Max had noted, despite how long it had been hanging from that tree and exposed to the elements. Face still void of expression, Max finally got out of his truck and stood in the rain and he stared down the tree. 'What better way?' He had thought to himself as he began to climb the trunk of the old maple tree.

The wind had died down around him, but the rain still fell as he pulled himself up to the high branch that the rope dangled from. He carefully took hold of the rope and wrapped it around the branch a few more times to make it shorter. A small, ghost of a smile crossed his face as he grasped the end of the rope and started tying it into a noose. For years he had tried to end his pain, countless times he had tried to do so himself. He had even given his brother plenty of opportunities to kill him. But Kolton always refused, claiming he didn't want to be like him. Max snickered at the thought of how much his brother tried to not be like him. 'But he is just like me,' he thought. 'He may be even worse now.' His maniacal grin was gone and his face left blank once more as he looked down to see that he had completed the noose. He would do it this time. Nothing would stop him. He was tired, so tired of the pain. Tired of the noise, tired of the silence. Tired of killing and so very tired of living. He slowly slipped the rope around his neck and pulled it tight, his legs dangling over the limb. He looked out towards the sea; it looked much calmer than when he had first arrived. The waves had slowed though the rain still fell, it looked peaceful. "Peace.." He repeated to himself out loud as he leaned forward. "I wonder what that feels like.."

"Max?"

His eyes snapped shut and he grit his teeth, but he didn't move. 'I'm hearing it again.' He thought to himself. It was always her voice that he heard when he had attempted to end himself before. He wasn't about to let that happen again.

"Don't try to stop me this time. I know you're dead. I killed you." He spat, hate and guilt apparent in his voice.

"Max. Come down from there..please?"

He grit his teeth even harder and clenched his fists until his knuckles were white and his finger nails broke the skin of his palms. "No!" Max yelled out loud. "I can't do this anymore! The pain, the voices, the guilt, the hate, the anger..the blood.." His voice trailed off into a whisper. "You...so many...are dead because of me..what else am I supposed to do?"

"Let me help you."

Blood dripped from his hands as he slowly unclenched his fists and looked up towards the sky to see the dark clouds that threatened to continue pouring down rain. "You tried to help me," Max whispered. "Look where that got you.." Noose around his neck, Max leaned forward and let gravity pull him towards the ground.

"Max, no!"

He hit the ground hard, knocking the breath out of his lungs. Feeling light headed Max looked up to see that the rope had broken, the weight of his body was too much for the old swing. His vision was blurry and his ears were ringing as the sound of footsteps approaching him caused a momentary panic. He was vulnerable. He had no weapon on him and his head was spinning, there was no way he could fight back. Max felt a pair of hands attempting to sit him up straight against the tree. He thought he could hear a voice and he could almost make out a face in front of him. The small hands were lightly patting his cheeks as he tried to make out their owner. The face and voice were familiar to him. They almost resembled..

"....Caroline?..." Max whispered, believing the figure in front of him to be another trick his mind decided to play on him. His vision cleared and his hearing restored, he looked up into the face of the one person he ever cared for and the one person who ever cared for him. Her eyes were full of tears, but other than that she looked exactly how he remembered her. She smiled and grabbed him by the shoulders, pulling him into a tight embrace.

"You won't ever have to go through anything alone again," she whispered in his ear. "I forgive you..and I'm never leaving you again."

The rain had stopped falling but the blood had already been washed off of his hands. Max shakily raised his arms and returned her embrace carefully, as though if he held her too tight she might break. Tears streamed down his face as he began to sob uncontrollably into Caroline's shoulder, all of his guilt, pain and hate flowing out at once. "Oh god..." He cried. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry..I'm sorry..I'm sorry..." He repeated over and over.

"I know.." She replied softly as her hand slowly rubbed his back. "Everything is going to be ok now. I promise."
  • Listening to: Bing Crosby
I need a place to store some writings of mine so I can submit them to an online portfolio for a job application, sorry! Wish me luck!
  • Mood: Sentimental
  • Listening to: Bing Crosby

She felt so lost and helpless. The vast wasteland spread as far as she could see, the numerous sandy hills seemingly never ending. She had tried to force herself to go on and try to find shelter but her body refused to move an inch further. So there she lay, face down in the hot sand, light blazing down on her already scorched skin.

She knew it was watching, she knew it was slowly moving closer to her. Fear gripped her mind as she struggled to get up once more. Her body screamed in pain, begging her to stop and rest. But she could not comply. It was still there. It had followed her from her home into the bleak emptiness of the desert.

How had it known where she would go? How had it managed to keep following her? She never saw it move and yet it was always on her tail. It had haunted her for as long as she could remembered, never faltering or changing its pace. She shuddered, it saw her now, she could feels its eyes upon her. Standing once more she began to walk again, her only comfort in that soon night would fall and its eyes would close.

She never feared the darkness, in fact it brought her peace. It did not like the night hours. She did not know why it chose to hide itself in the late and early hours, though she did not question it. Gratitude was all she had to offer to the darkness since it, like her follower, was consistent. Then why not fear the night? They were the same, it and the night, always coming and always going. But the night's eyes were blind to her and she was thankful for its cover.

Darkness fell and she collapsed on to the sand once again. Relief washed over her, as did despair. How much longer could she run? It would always find her. It was only a matter of hours before it could see her again. The thought brought tears of defeat to her eyes. She missed her friends and family, it had been years since she had last seen them. But she could never return, she knew, for they said her fear was irrational. The doctors and medicine never helped, her family never understood.

They must not see it, she had figured, it hides itself from them and only tortures her with its ever staring eyes. Again she shuddered, the tears flowing more freely. No long could she run, no longer could she hide. The strain on her body and mind was too much. So there she lay, throat parched and tears streaming down her face from the fear. This would be the last night she would hide from it. In the morning it would find her and she would let it.

The sun would claim another.


  • Mood: Sentimental
  • Listening to: Bing Crosby

Cold and lonely, empty and dark,

Stood the old and faithful park.

White from snow and filled with bliss,

Yet silver from the moonlight’s kiss.

No children sat near the ground,

Not a soul could be seen around.

All the lamps were off for the night,

All the birds had taken flight.

The houses all around, warm and lit,

But the park felt no warmth, not a bit.

A magical place it seemed to be,

A wonderful place it was to me.

I saw this place not dark and alone,

I did not fear for a dreadful moan.

The moon on the snow was the hope of this park,

A glimmer of hope that outweighed the dark.

  • Mood: Sentimental
  • Listening to: Bing Crosby

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Xephiliomia's Profile Picture
Xephiliomia
Bucky
Artist | Hobbyist | Traditional Art
United States
I am:
*20 years old
*a native of Texas, the best state ever
*a fanatic. I don't just 'like' things, I obsess over them
*in an unhealthy relationship with Star Wars, Transformers, Assassin's Creed, Halo, Dark Souls, CreepyPasta, cats, weird faces and Italian food
*terrible at talking to people face to face. I have the social skills of a Spartan
*not going to bite you, probably.
Interests
The light was on in the convenience store of the small road-side town, a beacon of hope to Dan as he pulled up.The trip to his cousin's birthday party was quite a long drive and he was already late so he had to make this stop quick. Walking in to the small store, Dan suddenly felt a stab of guilt in his stomach. It was his job to pick up his cousin's cake but he had forgotten until the last second. He prayed there would be some sort of acceptable cake here that he could pass off as a decent treat.
        "Can I help you with something?" A voice called out from behind the counter. A young woman stood there, smiling at Dan. Shrugging, Dan explained his slightly embarrassing situation. The woman gave a little chuckle before pointing out the door. "The bakery a few stores down is still open, but you'd better hurry." Dan thanked the woman and jogged out of the convince store and headed toward the sign that indicted the bakery's location. Dan noted how quiet the small town was, not that he was complaining. He wasn't the most social person. A sigh of relief escaped his mouth as he saw an elderly lady still up at the counter. He pushed the door open,  bell alerting the old woman to his arrival.
          She smiled up at him from her news paper, "It's a bit late to be picking up some sweets, young man." Dan laughed and asked if there were any cakes. The older woman frowned and took her glasses off. "I'm afraid I won't have anymore baked up until tomorrow, I'm sorry." Frowning and nodding, Dan made his way toward the exit. "Unless," the woman began, causing him to stop and turn around. "How about you help me whip up a quick little cake?" She offered. Dan was hesitant, explaining that he was already late. The elderly woman smiled as she stood up and walked toward the back of the store, "Better late than never, huh?"
          Dan followed her back into the small kitchen where she began to gather ingredients for making a simple cake. The old woman directed Dan around the kitchen and he complied quietly. It was a bit odd, but at least he would have the cake that he promised. After the batter was mixed, the woman motioned for Dan to come and have a taste before she put it into the oven to bake. Taking one look at the bowl, Dan frowned. "Is there something wrong with it?" The woman asked as she rinsed her spoon off in the sink. "Red." Dan said. "Lisa's favorite color is red." Placing the utensil in the drying rack, the woman walked over to her cabinet in search of some food coloring. "I'm sorry, dear," she responded. "I seem to be out of red food dye." Glancing slowly at the knife on the counter, Dan smiled and turned toward the elderly woman. "Don't worry, I know where to get some."
            The cake had baked and cooled before Dan started to frost it. The frosting matched the cake, both being a brilliant shade of red. Happy with his work, Dan said his thanks and left twenty dollars on the counter as he grabbed the cake a walked outside. The old woman remained in her chair in the kitchen, blood running down her neck. She did have to admit, the cake had been a lovely shade of red. Smiling once more as she slid to the ground, the old woman silently wished Lisa a very happy birthday.
  • Listening to: Bing Crosby

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:iconseraphinaexe:
SeraPhinaExe Featured By Owner Jan 17, 2015  New member Hobbyist General Artist
madam I must ms scarecrow is very gorgeous and one of the best creepy creations by far
Reply
:iconxephiliomia:
Xephiliomia Featured By Owner Jan 17, 2015  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
:iconohstopityouplz: aww thank you so much!
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:iconseraphinaexe:
SeraPhinaExe Featured By Owner Jan 17, 2015  New member Hobbyist General Artist
hugs and may I say she is one sexy woman
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:icondistilledwasteland:
Distilledwasteland Featured By Owner Dec 25, 2014  Student Artist
Reply
:iconxephiliomia:
Xephiliomia Featured By Owner Dec 14, 2014  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
Omg lol
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:icondistilledwasteland:
Distilledwasteland Featured By Owner Dec 14, 2014  Student Artist
I NEED ONE
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:icontimetravelertaz:
TimeTravelerTaz Featured By Owner Nov 25, 2014  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
Thanks for the fave! ~ ♡
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:iconxephiliomia:
Xephiliomia Featured By Owner Nov 25, 2014  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
You're welcome! It's lovey :)
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