TheAliceYouKnow

Your name is Vriska Serket and you are a very scared girl. You begged your parents not to leave you home alone. Another classy dinner wasn't€™t worth scarring your daughter for life, or possibly worse. There really wasn't a reason your mother had to make yet another appearance at an opening, or your father to tag along in fear of his wife finding a new rich boy to manipulate. Manipulation runs in the family. Which is probably why your mother convinced you that you would be fine for the week. You are not fine. You are not remotely fine in the most diluted sense of the word. You are terrified and backed up in t

Gamzee laid silently on his back, sipping away at a fizzy purple bottle of the wicked elixir, his hand slick and cold with condensation. Tavros stared up into the dark sky and the swirling puffs of grey and pink clouds, tiny grains of damp sand stuck to his face. His gaze kept flickering around, as if he were trying to absorb every single bit of the view laid out before him with the waves pushing gently against the big dent that Gam had carved out to keep his bro's robotics dry. The Bard had been lonely and decided to send a nice message to his pal, which had been accepted and rewarded with Tav's appearance in only an hour. Prompt that broth

We sip green tea from the 40 oz. bottle, the one that you're supposed to keep in your fridge. Multi-servings, not all for you. The  windows are down, blowing cooled summer air in our faces. 60's music plays on the radio. Our skin is still as white as the snow that melted a  few weeks ago, not yet browned by the sun. I rest my feet on the dash. Barefoot, my sandals strewn haphazardly across the floor of the white car. You're driving, smoking cheap cigarettes and filling the air with the scent of smoke. I hand you the bottle, and you take a sip. Honey and tea leaves and water. Hippie juice, your mom says. The  paint is chipping off my toenai

she hugged the loose striped shirt against her skinny body. her  hair was starting to grow back. still, she felt the ocean air against her scalp and smelled the salt in the air. nobody stood around her. she was alone, on the patio, eyes wide and her entire brain absorbed in the moment. tyler strummed a guitar inside. his girlfriend was alice. she was pretty enough, with her damaged hair and big eyes. she was what annabelle called a window licker. tyler hummed along to the acoustic, trying to remember the words. an ankle length skirt was being pulled away from her legs by the wind. the song was by neutral milk hotel. she knew how it went. the

she stared at the pile of blonde hair, the blonde hair she'd worked for to make absolutely perfect. a heap of thin strands in the sink now. she ran the razor over her scalp again. short bits of hair fell, the last remaining. she looked up at her newly bald head. saw the sunken eyes, dark circles, big lips, straight nose. pretty in a strange way. different pretty. nothing that could get her into a magazine. but almost 1920's pretty, an innocent pretty. she was a tiny person, not by choice  but by genetics and metabolism. her legs didn't rub together when she walked. her arms were thin. she was a little short. a short stick of a 1920's pretty g