🥈𝕊𝕖𝕔𝕠𝕟𝕕 𝕡𝕝𝕒𝕔𝕖 in the Guilded Raven Awards hosted by @TheGuildedRaven
🥈𝕊𝕖𝕔𝕠𝕟𝕕 𝕡𝕝𝕒𝕔𝕖 in the Coalition Awards hosted by @CoalitionAwards
🥉𝕋𝕙𝕚𝕣𝕕 𝕡𝕝𝕒𝕔𝕖 in the Regal Awards, hosted by @YaDramaQueenbkp
"Pareidolia is when...
Songs for this chapter is spell it out by You Me At six and let you go by Unsecret, (last song is posted at the end)
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Past- Monarch
When you're a little kid, lying in bed scared by whatever, you cried for your mom. It's what you did when you were scared. And you called for mom, just mom, not dad, not because you didn't want him, but mom was, well, mom. She was the person who knew how to comfort you, calm you down, talk stuff out because moms possess this freaky gift. It was weirdly magical in some way, this instant relief when she held you in her arms, knowing that it was ok because when she was holding you, all the monsters felt like nothing.
I still find myself crying for her sometimes. Maybe it's weak, but no matter how old someone gets, they still just want their mom. Even though you know however much you call, cry, scream for her, she's never going to show.
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I place one more rock over my mother's final resting place where she had fallen, died, when the rain had raped her body to an unhuman apparatus of broken bone and red flesh. The smell of warm blood still vivacious and putrid in the humidity left by the silver rain.
We couldn't move her. With her body plastered to the ground. So we covered her in her place of death. Slowly, finding rocks to bring back to heartache, trying not to look at what was left of my mother. Each time concealing her more and more, damning up my emotions from spraying out.
Once done, I stand near the pile. Red: her red still staining the gas station's pavement, and I lose it all. A dark see spilling out to every seam of my soul escapes through my eyes. Forcing me to the ground beneath my feet.
I realize something, and my tears turn into laughter, of broken sorrow.
I'm insane, I think to myself.
It's so insane I can't help but laugh at it. Both my parents died at a gas station. There's something extremely ironic about that. Something my torn apart brain finds downright hilarious.
Matt drapes his arms around me as I continue with my show of reckloose. He sobs beside me. He must think I'm crying too, and maybe I em, I can't tell anymore.
After we have exhausted ourselves from a swirling dark sea to a caged tempest. Matt moves to stand. His leg that the rain had hit makes it, so standing is a burden. "It's going to be dark soon; we're going to have to find somewhere to sleep."
I nod, understanding that we have to move on. Move on not just from this place but from this.
Matt suddenly jerks his head around. "Oh no," he says, his words exiting like scared vapour from his mouth.
"What... what is it?"
"Wheres Peter Mark!"
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So this chapter is really short,might add more. But I'm really proud of this chapter so I don't know.
