Time for everyone's favorite gameshow-- FORCING MYSELF TO WRITE!!

@FRANKtheTritoposaur

This is just me forcing myself to write cus ill never get better if I don't practice. Feel free to bully me if I don't update after a while.

My stuff is normally more dark I guess so I will be putting trigger warnings and spoiles for most of them :3

@FRANKtheTritoposaur

Jan 26

//TW// death, gore\

Prompt: Dirty Laundry
Write about the deep secrets of a character.

Spoiler - click to show.

Its hidden there, underneath the pile of clothes, underneath the boards in the floor.

Its hidden. Where nobody will find it.

The knife, rusty with blood, betrayal, and lies. The body rots. Flies gather around it, maggots crawl over it. It looks like death.

The skull is broken open. Gross and mushy with hard bits of white. The bat lies next to it, mocking. Wood versus bone.

I keep my promise. She was never good at doing that. I promised I’d always be by her side. Now i am. Laying here.

Grasping her hand. Dead and laying with her.

Well, my arm is anyways.

I put the laundry in the basket and run it through the washer, cleaning out the red blotches. My bandaged arm burns gently.

@Elise_Is_Permanently_Confused_And_Tired

Jan 26

ooooh yummy,
Murder pog

@Elise_Is_Permanently_Confused_And_Tired

Feb 14

CLOVERRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR please post again maybe sometimes this week i need ur writing serotonin pls

@Elise_Is_Permanently_Confused_And_Tired

Feb 14

ok ty :D

@FRANKtheTritoposaur

Feb 16

ELISE IM NOT SICKY ANYMORE GIMMIE STM TO WRITE ABOUT!!!

@Elise_Is_Permanently_Confused_And_Tired

Feb 16

UHHH CHECK MY PINTEREST I HAVE A WHOLE BOARD CALLED 'WRITING PROMPTS AND STUFF'NTHERE SHOULD BE SOME GOOD PROMPTS THERE

@FRANKtheTritoposaur

Feb 25

//tw// murder, violence, gore//

Spoiler - click to show.

“Please! Please, I know you didn't. Please, I know they’re lying about you” They pleaded to me.
“LIAR!” I roared back at them. “Stupid girl, foolish girl. I’m not foolish anymore. I know you just want to hurt me!”
They banged on the door once more. “Let me in Sarah! Let me in and we can fix this,” More pleading.
“LIAR LIAR LIAR!” I shout and shout back. Saying it feels good, it silences all the things in my head. Like a steady stream, rushing and rushing everything all at once.
“Sarah. Sarah please! Don't do this. I know they’re lying, I know your innocent,” Bang, Bang, Bang! Theyre kicking the door now. Theyre kicking the door and pleading as I scream liar. Its a sight. Its a sound. A cacophony of tears and rage.
Pulsing.
Begging.
Pleading.
Lying.
All of a sudden i start laughing. My voice horace from all the screaming. My head throbbing with pain. Laughing and laughing and laughing and laughing. Until it turns into a sick coughing bark.
It sounds like dying.
I unlock the door, doubled over still hacking. Spitting up blood and bile.
“Sarah. Oh Sarah,” They put their hand on my back in an attempt to sooth me.
“DON’T FUCKING TOUCH ME!” I scream, standing up straight and wiping the blood from my chin and lips.
“Sarah.” They back away from me, horror in their voice. “Sarah whats in your hand. Sarah, I know its a lie. Sarah please.”
Backing up and away from me. Away from me. Away from what I stand for.
Away from the knife in my hand.
“Sarah no, dont do this! Sarah theyre just lies! Sarah you dont have to do this!” I step closer as they beg.
“Sarah stop” Another step
“Sarah.” Another
“Sarah!” Another
“You’re scaring me!” And another.
“SARAH STOP IT PLEASE” They’re backed against a wall. It would be so easy to just-
I burst into a run towards them. Slashing the knife down. Stabbing, stabbing, stabbing. Every time I stick the knife into their chest I hear another mushy sound over their obnoxious yelling.
My breath is heavy and the only thing I hear once I’m done.
They were right.
I did do all those things.

HERE U GO ELISE!!! IM FINALLY NOT SICK AT ALL ANYMORE !!!

@Elise_Is_Permanently_Confused_And_Tired

Feb 25

I HAVE BEEN FED, YIPEEEEE
(I literally love ur writing sm it makes me so happy omfg)

@FRANKtheTritoposaur

Feb 25

YAYYYYY

(yay :3)

@Elise_Is_Permanently_Confused_And_Tired

Feb 25

Keep up the good work <3

@FRANKtheTritoposaur

Mar 05

IM HERE TO FEED U ELISE!!!! (btw this is from 7th grade so it sucks a lot but i still like it)

//tw// death//

LOST - your story must include this word.

Beatrice
The woods are darkening around me. I’m so tired, my body is aching, my throat is pleading with me to stop screaming. I can’t stop screaming. It’s the only way I will ever be found in this maze of trees. The wind blows my hair into my face and my long skirt up. Why, why, why did I have to wear a skirt on the trip to the woods? My chest aches. Yay, running through the woods! I sit down by a tree. At least I had some sense and remembered to pack a hoodie and sweatpants in my bag. I slip my sweatpants on then take the skirt off and put it on the leaf-covered dirt. The tall trees had made the woods shadowy, even though the transition to night was apparent. I slipped my dead phone in my bag hours before but I take it out anyway. It feels nice having weight in my hand. A leaf hits my head, snapping me back to reality. I place the phone in my bag and grab my lantern. I click it on. Ahh, sweet light. Perionioia is something I’ve dealt with from the age of 10. Now, I take a sleeping bag and flashlight everywhere. With the sleeping bag rolled out I lay still. CRUNCH. I snap up. What was that? Glowing orange eyes pierce the darkness not illuminated by my lamp. Plump.

My body. I can’t move. I feel wet. Blood. Its blood. I can see my lamp. It’s been knocked over. Those eyes, it must have been those eyes. Foggy memories start to fill my head. I remember something launching at me. It must have been a wolf. I start to get foggy. My memory is gone, the pain is unbearable, my sight is foggy, my ears get filled with the awful screeching sound that they sometimes do. This is not normal. My life is lost. My body will be claimed by the forest as its own. Nobody will find me. The only thing they will see is m phone and a lamp. Possibly, the rotting remnants of my corpse.

Martha
What is that smell? It’s terrible. “OHMYWHATISTHAT!” I scream. The corpse of a girl, probably only 14, was laying at the foot of a tree. My team comes running. “What’s wrong?” They exclaim. I point. I walk over to the bag sitting on the ground, half-covered with leaves. Beatrice Smartin, it read. “We found the missing girl,” I whisper.

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