She started life with a number, not a name. Class: S, No. 13295. She has them memorized by rote, though nobody ever calls her that. The Scientists feel foolish addressing her in long, bewildering strings of alphanumerics. They have told her so themselves. To save time, they simply call her “Snow.
Nenia CampbellMots clés fantasy snow-white sci-fi fairytales retellings
I'm more than a few neurons shy of a synapse right now, and it feels absolutely fan-fucking-tastic.
Nenia CampbellMots clés humor random drinking alcohol
Some things are not supposed to be forgotten; these are the things which make us human.
Nenia CampbellMots clés life philosophy memory forgetting
I cannot breathe, or see, nor swim,
My darkness is composed of him.
Mots clés poetry dark fantasy horror horror-romance
I want to be your last thought at night, and your first taste at dawn.
Nenia CampbellMots clés sex dark relationship possession horror-romance owning
Her world fragmented into dozens of sharp, cutting shards, shedding the salty blood and saltier tears that ringed the bitter cocktail of her despair. She was caterpillar and butterfly, both, caught in a cocoon of raw nerves and open sores; she was insanity, wrapped up in the thin, transient wrappings of a temporary lucidity; and she was afraid, because an innate desire lay in the bottom reaches of her psyche for the very poison that was killing her.
Nenia CampbellMots clés fear insanity dreams madness loneliness horror nightmares terror
Words were the bane of her existence. She drowned in them when all she wanted was silence, only to have them recede when one desperately-sought phrase would be the key to her salvation. Most things were like that: excess in times of abundance, and shortages in times of dearth. Life, she realized, was an unbalanced scale, and would never weigh in one's favor, struggle as one might.
Nenia CampbellMots clés life philosophy depression
It wasn't that she was sad—sadness had very little to do with it, really, considering that most of the time, she felt close to nothing at all. Feeling required nerves, connections, sensory input. The only thing she felt was numb. And tired. Yes, she very frequently felt tired.
Nenia CampbellMots clés sad feelings depression hopelessness mental-illness exhaustion
Lisa blamed Twilight, and the preconceived notions about men (especially dangerous men) that it tended to form in the impressionable adolescent mind.
Nenia CampbellMots clés humor men satire twilight
That's how it started: a series of small hurts and excuses between two people that built up slowly, widening over time to form a vast and yawning divide.
Nenia CampbellMots clés friendship hurt growing-apart
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