Inlägg publicerade under kategorin Allmänt

Av Someone - 13 januari 2015 21:15

You are alone in your apartment. You are sittning with your laptop in your lap in your bed, surfing. Scrolling  through Tumblr, Facebook, Twitter, any social media you have. You got music on in the background, but pretty low, because you wanna be able to hear if anyone knocks, even if you don't really expect anyone to, since it 10 pm

Suddenly you hear a creak. You lower the music and get of your bed quietly, then realise that it's better if you make more noises, so that if it's a murder or thief you will scare them away, or let you neighbours know that something's wrong when you stop sounding. 
You check that you got your phone in your pocket, and then walk out from your bedroom. 
You go through the living room and walk to the door. The door is breaking by the lock. You see a splint fly from the door, and you chicken out. 
You run back a few step and unlock your phone. You call 911, but it doesn't work. You call again. No. You look at your phone, you have signal, but it just doesn't work. The tones goes but then it suddenly breaks. You call your mom's number, it doesn't go. Your friend, nothing. 
You run back into your room, curl up in the corner with your phone tightly clutched to your chest, trying to hide in the shadows. 
Suddenly there's a creak by the window. You quickly look up. In front of  you stands a boy with brown hair, wearing a superman t-shirt, jeans, and only in his socks. He smiles gently down at you. 
-Don't be afraid. He holds out his hand. Let's go find out who's at the door.
No thoughts on that he can be the partner to the person by the door, and that they actually are murders or kidnappers, passes your mind, so you take his hand and he helps you up. 
He then slings his arm over your shoulders. He looks at you, and then gently strokes your hair. Surprisingly you don't flinch or move away, you just relax. He looks at your phone.
-It doesn't work? You stop trying to press it through your chest and hold it out in your hand. 
-I don't know what's wrong. I have signal, it just doesn't work. 
He squeezes your shoulders.
-That's okey. He slightly pushes you to get you to walk. You go out so you stand in the hallway facing the door. The lock is almost breaking. You inhale and exhale slowly, swallow and slide your tongue over the inner parts of your lips. 
Two seconds later the door breaks.
 A black-masked man pulls the door open, turns around to pick up his bag and takes a step in before looking up. You stand completely still, but the boy next to you smiles, raises his hand and waves with his fingers. 
Suddenly the man is pressed against the carpet, with the boy's hand over his neck. He coughs and wriggles to get loose, but the boy is too strong. Through gritted teeth, and with a smile in his voice, he says
-Never disturb this girl again. Don't ever come back. Put this address on your memory and never return. 
The man wriggles even more, which results in your hero straddling him over his chest an punching him.
-Have I made myself clear? He asks with a voice as if he was a professor and asked the class if everybody understood.
The man coughs again, you think that you now can hear blood in is coughs. Silently you say
-I don't think he can breathe.
The boy doesn't turn, but mumbles
-Yes, of course. He pulls up the man to sitting position with a grip on his shirt. 
When the man has pulled a few breaths and seems to be able to fight again, he pushes him back down to the floor. 
With a hand on his chest the boy reaches over to the man's tool bag. He searches through the open space and then the side and front pockets. 
In one of the side pockets he finds a set of lock picks, that he puts on the floor in front of him. 
He finds a piece of paper in the front pocket that he unfolds. Loud enough for you to hear he reads
-049-333246. He turns it around. No name? He asks the man. He then crawls back.
-I find nothing more of value for me here. 
They then both go from sitting position to standing, without you seeing the boy's hand leaving the man's shirt, so fast you don't even see it. With a 'Don't fall' the boy bends down and zips up the bag. He then hands it to the man, and with a hold by both his shoulders turns him around.
-How about you apologise to miss here? The boy asks the man, leaning close to him and with his arm around his shoulders. He then turns the back against you with a smile. The man coughs and then says
-I'm sorry, miss.
You smile weakly against him.
-Apology accepted. The boy beams against you. He turns them back around again, and over his shoulder says
-Wait a second, I'll be right back. He then escort the burglar out. You stay completely silent to hear if the boy is going to kick him down the stairs, or simply make him walk. 
But there's no sound, and soon he comes back in. He closes the door and looks at the broken lock, with his hands on his hips. 
-No one more is going to disturb you tonight. He smiles against you and walks up against you, with his arm out to gently push you with him. As you follow, you turn around so you walk like him, and you look up at him as you go to your bedroom. 
He lift away the covers and let you crawl in under them. You stay sitting up as he walk to the end of the bed. He looks at you smiling.
-Can I know your name? You ask. 
He smiles wider.
-It's Louis. You nod to yourself.
-Suits you. He laughs. 
-Now close your eyes. 
You obey and when you open them, he's gone.
Av Someone - 1 januari 2015 00:09

It's weird, that we fear thunder unless it comes with sparkles and colors.

Av Someone - 23 december 2014 16:16

"Merry christmas, yo filthy animal....oh, and a happy new year"

Av Someone - 19 december 2014 16:25

halvmörkt kök, sitter och sjunger med ett video klipp av One Directions framträdande av You and I, lite sådär halv lonely.

Av Someone - 10 december 2014 21:09

Put on a fancy dress, get into that cab, walk down the carpet, and hold your head high, baby.


Av Someone - 7 december 2014 19:11

Clueless anyone?

Av Someone - 7 december 2014 08:30

She walks through the mist, heels making a sound against the cobblerstone. A shadow following her on a distance. It walks through a puddle, and it's dark features shatters by small waves. It is too far behind and isn't abel to stop her when she opens the door of a cafe and enters. She pulls of her gloves and beanie, nodding politely to the waitresses. She walks up to a table, that sutible enough only have one chair. The other one is taken by the people by a nearby table, where one man now stands up from his seat. "I'm sorry, do you need this?" She smiles against him. "No thank you, sir". He looks confused at her but the sit down and join the conversation again. She pulls of her jacket and hangs it over the back of the chair, and walks to the counter while rubbing her hands together, a habit she doesn't know why she has it. She stands for a while and looks at the cakes and treats. The young girl on the other side smiles kindly against her. She looks up, smiles back, and then bites her lip looking at the cakes on the other side of the glass before speaking her order. "Cheesecake and hot chocolate, please". The chasier carefully scoop up the piece and putting it on a plate, placing it on the counter. "That's nineteen and thirty, miss". The cashier watches as she pulls out a twenty dollar bill from her left jeans pocket, accepts it with a smile, gives her her change and turns around to the machines behind her pressing in the required drink. She takes her plate and returns to her table, then walks back to get her chocolate, that she imidiatly tastes. She licks of the chocolate from her lips, and smiles against the cashier, before retreating to her seat. With the elegance of a girl who tries to impress her boyfriend's parents she takes up a small piece of the cake and puts it in her mouth, pushing her tounge through the goo that it becomes the second it passes through her teeth. It tastes heavenly. She closes her eyes for a few seconds and then start to explore the people around her. The gentleman who offered back his chair seems to be dominated by the loud woman in red on his left. His wife, appearntly, since this one is repitably saying his name with an annoyed tone. The couple in matching purple color that accompanies them may be relatives, such as the red lady's sister, or maybe just an chatting friend. Someone to spread rumors to, and discuss how very much real they are, even if it's very unlikely for the victim of the evil rumors too do such a thing. There's a final man at their table, a gentleman in tuxedo, that repitevly looks at his pocket watch, as if he was late for something. Maybe he tries to figure out how much time he has wasted listening to these ranting ladys. She turns against the glass windows, and study the three, completely different, young couples that sit there. The first couple, seated closest to the door, looks in love, probably newly engaged, or newly found out the other one answered their feelings. Their hands lay laced together by the edge of the table, the girl's eyes locked to his while telling a story, his locked to her lips as his own was curved in a smile, as if the story he was told was the secret to future fortunes. Almost back to back to the girl, right below the beautiful, cursive letters that spelled out the name of the cafe, is a woman about the same age as her, but more worn out by her relationship. More simply dressed, and tired eyes, wrinkles and the fact that the conversation between the loving ones is an argument, tells her that these have been together for a long time. She sips her hot chocolate, and looks over to the lad currently stuck in a position he can not escape without making a scene or hurting his loved one's feelings. Though, this is a strong relationship, something that probably will last a tad bit longer then the one where no harsh words are said, only a story told to an interested listener. The woman sinks together and cover her face, probably trying to clear her mind. The man looks at her with a heartbroken expression, and then down on the sleeves of his brown suite. The last couple in the row doesn't speak. The silence is clearly heard, and if one walked over there she's sure one woulden't be able to breathe in the thick tension. They are an old, broken couple, even if they are so young. They have met, loved, lost and broke, leading them to the point where they are now: regret. Regret they broke up, regret they spoke those dreadful words, and lost what they truly loved. One of them got brave enough to call and ask for forgiveness, asking if they could start over, back the tape and rewind, from the moment they knew it was true love. They agreed to meet, but now they sit there quiet wonder what they did wrong. Too little, too late? Too much, too soon? None of it? They both wanna ask but are afraid of the answer. She breaks of another piece and chews thoughtfully. She can't see the people behind her, but she can hear them, and a voice tells so much a personality, doesn't it? But what tells even more is what words are spoken by it. And with what emphasize and attitude, which order are the words, are they spoken correctly, or stuttered, as if the person is nervous? Or are they on purpose said wrong, so it will appear more cute, or as if help is needed, help from someone that the owner of the voice truly adore? Behind her, is an middle aged man and his co-worker, a woman with a firm voice that shakes slightly at the end of every sentence. A project is being done by the two of them and he seems to like her. Something that has been notated and considered many times, and finally approved. The computer seems old, a lot of tacking comes from it. Behind them somewhere is a lonesome teenager. He curses everytime he falls of track, the sounds tells her that it's a runner game. Some not anymore hot chocolate slips down her throat. On the other side of the path leading from the door to the counter are five tables. In the corner between two of the glass windows that are the outside walls sits another lonely person. There is a plate, a glass and a jacket by the opposite seat, but she catches glimpses of when the woman taking pieces of the food, showing that no one is going to eat that food. The meal seems to be shared with a ghost, maybe her loved one has died, or he vas never hers. A piece of raspberry surprises her, filling her mouth with its sweet moister. Currently served by a waitress with brown hair is a girl with a laptop on her table. Speaking slowly, something her lips show, the language seems unfamiliar to the girl. The waitress nodes fast, faster and faster for every slow sentence, apperantly in a hurry and without time for slow talking people. Behind them are two boys seated, both on their phones but keeping a conversation alive. They have what looks like the same order, it's hard to tell behind the waitress trying to get an order out of the girl. It seems to be chocolate cake and chai tea. On the right of the slow talking girl sits a girl with no order. The only thing on her table are her elbows, while reading a book with a cover revealing nothing. No emotions are show in her face, but neither are there focus to be seen. Her pulled up shoulders make her dark blue blouse sit weird, and she would like to tell her to relax, but then again she has no idea what the book is about. Closest to the door is a gentleman stiring his tea. It pours over the edges, but he doesn't seem to take notice. A waitress that has been waiting by the counter in the back of the cafe finally pushes herself up with her elbows and goes over to him. "You're spilling, sir". Picking up napkins to try to rescue the white tablecloth, he stares at her, confused and not aware of what he did to make her come over to him. Chocolate is just as good cold as it is warm. It goes down with the second last piece of cake, and she starts study the furniture. It goes in dark purple and oxblood, matching the wallpaper barely visible, except on the wall behind her, where an open doorway leads to the toilets, and behind the counter. The lights, flying about half a meter above everyone that enters through the door, spreads a golden light making everything seem cozier and more royal. The counter looks like marble, and the glass shielding the pastries has a gold edge. The chairs have a stuffed seat, and are so soft you could fall asleep if you were tired enough. The tables are in dark wood, and some have a candle on them, some have a little vase with a flower. The  mist outside is now more of a darkness, she eats the last piece of cheesecake while looking out through the window. Leaving her cup and plate, she pulls on her jacket, pulls on her gloves while walking to the door, opens it and walks out.


Jag kom på den här historien då det var dimma när jag skulle hem i fredags, bestämde mig för att inte skriva ner den, lät den slip my mind, bestämde mig i går för att skriva ner den i alla fall, så fram till "it tastes heavenly" är påkommet i fredags, resten är påhittat idag och igår. Det är tre dagars fantasi ni ser framför er, mina vänner.

Av Someone - 5 december 2014 20:19

Ser på idol för att få se One Direction.


Someone: Simply Crazy Minded! ;)

Fråga mig

3 besvarade frågor


Ti On To Fr
<<< Januari 2016

Sök i bloggen

Senaste inläggen






Uppskrivning av besökare ; )