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About Varied / Hobbyist Member Skittlez (Skitty)Female/United States Recent Activity
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I've made a liar of myself. Due to classes, there is no way I'll be able to keep up with NaNo, my apologies. However, I will still post my story here, just at a much slower rate than I would if I were doing NaNo. Best of luck to the rest of you!

            I don’t know what it was about the world around me, but it had all grown so bland. You’d think that at eighteen, I’d be just starting to experience all it had to offer. I don’t know if it was over-exposure or a lack of options or even just a general disinterest, but the world simply was not appealing to me. I was desperate to try anything and everything once, in case something came along and saved me from the dullness I experienced daily. I had experienced so much in my mind, but not enough I realized. The things I had experienced were not things I would want to tell to future generations.

          Maybe that’s why I pulled into the parking lot that I did. I wasn’t sure what I was doing until I went inside. “What can we do for ya?” a man with a clean-shaved scalp, leather vest and protruding belly asked. I looked at him for a moment processing what my body was forcing me to do.

          “I want a tattoo,” I answered with a steady gaze.

          “You got a design ready?” he asked expectantly.

          “Huh-uh.” He raised an eyebrow at me. I looked at the walls and saw signs giving deposit prices for tattoo designs and roughly how long the design would take in days to be finished. I couldn’t leave. I might not come back. “I mean, I planned to get a quote so I don’t really need a design, right?” I asked, recovering.

          He nodded, I had given an acceptable answer. “How big and what style?” he prompted.

          I held up my fingers, an inch apart from one another and added, “Some sort of script.”

          “Uh huh,” he nodded to the computer for me to search scripts in their database until I found one I liked. He was writing down the description I had given him onto a sort of paper receipt and asked me for the quote.

          I faltered. Not something from a book or a movie or a song I would grow to hate. No, something else. I scrolled through scripts until I found one and typed my answer before reading it aloud to him. “The world owes me nothing.”

          What a strange concept. To permanently ink something onto myself in a hasty decision because I wanted to feel excited or nervous or anything and to have it say that I am not obligated to the experience.

          I was thinking so deeply about this that I didn’t realize I had been guided the other side of the open parlor and inks and needles and gloves were being prepared.

          “Where did you want to get this?” a new artist was asking as he set up. He traced the printed quote on some type of paper with blue ink and tranferred it to my skin, making a violet ghost image for the design. I nodded in approval at the design.

          “Where’s a sensitive spot?” I asked him in place of an answer.

          “Uh, rib, knee, inner elbow?” he listed

          “Rib,” I decided. I didn’t need anyone to know until I wanted them to.

          “You some kind of masochist?” he joked with a grin. I shook my head. He paused. “Hey, are you okay? Are you sure you wanna do this? It seems pretty sudden,” he worried.

          “No, yeah, I’m sure. Let’s do it,” I nodded. I laid back and rolled my shirt up so he could start when he was ready.

          “Last chance,” he offered, hesitating with the needle above me.

          “I’m ready,” I promised. And I was.


          Looking back, I liked to think that I slapped down one-fifty for a permanent reminder and a chance to feel something. But there was no writing or wincing. I wanted to know if I could still feel and all I felt were strong vibrations against my bones. It’s an odd and uncomfortable feeling but “painful” is not a word I’d use to describe it. I was sore an hour or so after the ink set in, don’t get me wrong, but there was no pain during the process. Maybe my body didn’t react to this kind of pain any longer. No, I was over-thinking. Perhaps my ribs were too meaty. Or maybe my adrenaline was too high to feel it? Or even my pain tolerance for that matter. I don’t know, I’m not expert. I just know that I was disappointed.

          In any case, my adventure that day was a perfect metaphor for my life. I never felt pain during, only the soreness it caused after. It’s easy for me to see how I got to this point knowing that. But then again, hindsight is 20/20, right?

Empty Parks: Intro
AN: Here's an introduction-ish thing. Just thought that this would be a good way to show off the character.
I haven't decided if I should write from the guy's point of view as well? I don't think I should but in YA it seems like the appropriate thing to do? But then again it IS first-person. I'll see I guess. Critiques are welcome and appreciated.

Empty Parks is the story of an average duo, Summer Fuchs and Connor Byrne, simply trying their best to become functioning and happy adults. 


          Do you even remember the first time we kissed?


            My garage was just another room and we couldn't get in the house. I’d left my keys. Silly, I did that often in the beginning.

            My black dress was plain and my heels had been kicked off carelessly onto the floor. Your suit was black, offset only by a red tie and you’d placed your hat on my loose waves. You thought I looked better in it.

            I sat on the sofa with your head in my lap and I thought for what must have been the hundredth time that I would’ve killed for eyes like yours. You didn't even appreciate them. I did a lot of thinking; too much, probably. I’m not sure what it was in hindsight, but I know that I was thinking of something irrelevant when you reached your hands behind my head and pulled my lips gently but firmly to your own. Our lips fit together in ways they shouldn't have and everything felt right even though I knew better.

            I wasn't good enough for you.

            Is that the first time you've had a girl cry after kissing her? I doubt it. You must have broken too many of us by now. Just the same, you seem so shocked. Concern wasn't in your voice when you said my name but confusion was. Maybe you didn't deal in broken people. I laughed as tears rolled down my cheeks but I could see that look in your eye. The look when you watch an animal die. Pity.

            I sighed and forced my body to pull in a shock of fresh air. When you asked why, I lied. I may be honest but I’m not stupid. It wasn't entirely a lie I suppose. It was a very rational and plausible reason that I would have worried about months later if I hadn't stopped you from kissing me. “I just like you too much. It’ll hurt to let you go,” I said simply, as I attempted to keep a bright smile despite my tear-soaked visage. I could tell it was weak because you shifted uncomfortably as you eagerly tried to appease me.

            “Well where are you going to college? We can-”


            You did.

            “We both know its bullshit. Forget about it.” It was harsh and sudden. And maybe you were different; but I didn't have another year in store to recover.


            I had a friend pick us up and drive you home. You laced your fingers in mine and I let you. We didn't speak after those words. Not while we waited for her to arrive. Not in the ride there. Not on the walk to your doorstep. Not to say goodnight. You just looked at me with that same helpless pity. I removed my hand from yours. My jaw remained tightly closed, and you didn’t dare to open yours either. You instead slid your arm around my waist and kissed my forehead. I guess you weren’t good with the idea of being platonic. You disappeared into the yellow of your hallway and shut the door. The light switched off and I was enveloped by the night.


            I thought I would cry that night. I thought sobs that wracked my body and shook my soul would leave me awake until dawn.

            But I was just as silent as I was when I let you disappear into the night. I didn't cry. I didn't whimper. My breath was even and virtually silent. Even my mind was numb and mute. Despite all this, you managed to keep me awake. It was six a.m. when I closed my eyes and lulled myself to sleep.


            I slept that Sunday. 

Empty Parks: Slept on Sunday

This is a piece I wrote that sparked the idea for a story. The piece is called "Slept on Sunday" while the story itself is called "Empty Parks". I decided to use this as a preface to the story (as the story sort of has an intro as well). Tell me what you think?

Once, I planted myself in a single spot in the
Earth and I told her,
"Make me happy."
She threw the wind back in my face and retorted,
"I owe you nothing."

But I had rooted myself in her apathy
And carved her beauty in my breast
Because it was the closest I could get to my heart.
I carried her inside my skin
Because this was the closest I ever came to love.
So I clung to her desperately,
Like a leaf not yet ready to give into Autumn.

She was a tree
And I was a weed beneath her branches,
Unable to reach sunlight.
But the cruelest thing had to be that
She wouldn't even smile as she killed me.
This is what a Toxic Relationship Looks Like
I wrote this on the bus today and I'm not sure how to feel about it. Could you guys give some feedback? I was thinking of putting in this journal I'm making for a friend but I can't decide because I can't decided whether I like it or not.
It's been a while since I've interacted with you lot and I've began to miss it. I wanted to get back in the swing of things here before NaNo started up because I'm going to participate this ear and actually put forth an effort so I'll likely be posting my writing here to sort of keep myself accountable and on-track for the month. I hope classes don't get in the way but we'll have to see. To any others competing in NaNo, good luck, feel free to contact me and I shall see you on the flip side!

Much love,
  • Listening to: "Sweet Suburban Sky"
It's been a while since I've interacted with you lot and I've began to miss it. I wanted to get back in the swing of things here before NaNo started up because I'm going to participate this ear and actually put forth an effort so I'll likely be posting my writing here to sort of keep myself accountable and on-track for the month. I hope classes don't get in the way but we'll have to see. To any others competing in NaNo, good luck, feel free to contact me and I shall see you on the flip side!

Much love,
  • Listening to: "Sweet Suburban Sky"


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Skittlez (Skitty)
Artist | Hobbyist | Varied
United States

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Add a Comment:
EmoKittyE Featured By Owner Oct 23, 2014
Thanks for the luck and the watch. :)
DeathbySkittlez Featured By Owner Oct 27, 2014  Hobbyist General Artist
Not a problem!
LyricalDenizen Featured By Owner Jul 30, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
I wanna scream, HI,KAT! I MISS YOU! but im not sure it using real names here is the right thing to do. Unfortunately, im still learning Deviant etiquette. lol Anyways, I really miss you and im wishing you were here with troika for the new year.
skaggzy Featured By Owner Apr 10, 2014  Professional General Artist
Happy Birthday, a day early! Enjoy your day!
DeathbySkittlez Featured By Owner May 22, 2014  Hobbyist General Artist
Thank you so much! I did! I got my first tattoo and the day off!
SolaceinSubconscious Featured By Owner Jul 24, 2013   Traditional Artist
Thanks for faving my journal.
DeathbySkittlez Featured By Owner Jul 25, 2013  Hobbyist General Artist
No problem! I loved it! :)
smutyo Featured By Owner Jul 15, 2013  Hobbyist General Artist
Thank you for :+devwatch: :)
DeathbySkittlez Featured By Owner Jul 15, 2013  Hobbyist General Artist
No problem!
JackieMercer Featured By Owner Jun 6, 2013  Student Writer
Thanks for the fave
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