Note: HFJDHJDJDJDJD this is a very old wip i found in my drafts about the leech twins and before you click this please be warned that there are somewhat graphic descriptions of violence here that may be unsuitable for some audience so please proceed with caution!
Blood was splattered all over the furniture — the shouts and screams of nearby students were deafening as they scrambled to the exit, some stayed behind out of concern for the ones injured. Shattered glass stained with an unsightly crimson sunk deep into his skin, he could barely stomach the scene that played in front of him.
Floyd harshly pulled out the glass sticking into his abdomen, the blood gushing out of his wound as he limped towards his brother who was unmoving on the ground. His face was full of gashes and wounds that could make the ordinary person cringe from disgust. But the worst wasn’t any of those cuts, a river of blood poured out from his eye into the floor.
Floyd stood silent. Tears threatened to fall from his eyes as he looked at what was left of his eye. The voices inside his head started screaming at him, longing to pull him to the darkness he may never crawl back up from. ‘This is your fault.’No…'He would’ve never lost his eye if it weren’t for you.’
Something squeezed his heart. A blank look taking over his face as he faced up, his hands inching closer to his one eye — his nails digging into his eye before excruciating pain took over him. But he stood his ground and pulled his eye from its socket, staring at it with the one he had left before an eerie smile decorated his face.
Floyd knelt down, placing his eye near where Jade laid unconscious. “Mhm, this should be enough for you to forgive me, right?”
“An eye for an eye… Isn’t that right? I’ll give you my other eye too if that’s what you want…” Floyd’s voice became hoarse, tears falling from his eye. “So please… You can’t die.”
Here’s some fanart of Carrie White from the novel! I’m bummed the latest adaptation didn’t take the opportunity to follow the book more closely (although I do love all the screen adaptations their own way!)
I actually drew this in 2020 (it was supposed to be a whole line-up of Carrie through the book), but never finished it. Now I’d like to re-draw and update this design, and also come up with some designs for the rest of the characters in the book. For now, I decided to clean this one up a bit more for posting because I still like it!
I recently found out why my mom would never sleep around me when I was a kid. Like she’d never let herself take naps or sleep if I was awake, ever. Or if she did, she would lock her bedroom door.
So when I was 6, I was asleep in my bed in the middle of the night when I hear a loud bang, like a pot being dropped and come out to the living room to see my mom standing by the window, with just a huge pile of spaghetti all over the sill, and a pot on the ground, and I ’m like “Are you gonna eat all that?” And ya’ll she get’s BIG MAD and yells at me and chases me to my room but then a little while later a bunch of cops show up and ask me a bunch of random ass questions about my art? Like this one cop lady keeps asking me to draw dragons for her?! And they seem mad as hell
I didn’t want to get arrested so I just never asked my mom for spaghettis after that. Lesson, learned. Don’t ask mom for spaghettis or she’ll call the damn police on you.
So I have this memory in my head, and it goes unquestioned until I say it outload for the first time a few months back and as soon as I say the words “When I was six, my mom called the cops on me for asking for spaghettis” My adult logic slams into place and is like “Hang on. Your mother definatly did not call the police on a 6 year old for asking for spaghetti.”
So obviously that’s not what really went down. I call up my mom to tell her how I remember it and on top of her figuring out why her kid has always been really cagey around spaghettis for the last 3 decades she tells me what really happened.
So on that night, a man tried to break into our house through the front window. It was just my mom, and her kids so she did what she felt she had too and shot him in the head. He’d been wearing a helmet, which landed on the floor under the window.
Now I just want ya’ll to put yourselves in my moms shoes for a minute here. This woman has just taken a human life. The trauma of that- the instant agony, the panic, the guilt, the fear- all of it hitting her at once, her only solace the knowledge that her children are safe. She protected her daughters. No matter the cost to her soul- her children are safe.
Then she looks up and sees her six year old staring at the inside of this mans head before saying “Are you gonna eat all that?”
I suspect they were trying to keep me busy and distracted while they cleaned up the corpse in the living room?!?
My mother and father were grateful, too glad for respite, for salvation, to question our reversal in fortune. We did not starve. Far from it. My lettuces leafed so rapidly, it was all I could do to cut them before they bolted. The strawberries were fat with fruit, and put forth runners like weeds. I picked the raspberry canes each morning, and by dusk they were once again filled.
Winter passed, and spring returned. I planted hedge of wicked briars and a trench of stinging nettles to shield my garden from curious visitors. I sowed the garden beds with nightshade, with henbane and mandrake. With hellebore, with foxglove and monkshood. For all I told myself that it served as both defense and a warning, I knew it for the empty gesture that it was: latching the barn door well after the horse had already bolted.
Set, Lord of the Storms, protector of the outcasts, foreigners, rebels, and all who are marginalized, destroys the chaos-serpent. May ma’at prevail in our lands. Black Lives Matter.
