to enhance your experience, i would like to recommend you listen to
this while reading.
[ untrust us • crystal castles • covered by capital children's choir ]
"
spaTo be a survivor–first you must bleed. You bleed all that was inside of you: the pain, the memories, the fear, the wounds fusing together, the ties to what was in, all its forms. You bleed not once but several times.. And when you are empty, you either fade into a shadow or find the strength, and courage to live. When you stand up again, you are for a time, hollow–empty, like a bottle of beer lying on the street, cracked and reeking of its bitter contents. Then you fill yourself up with the new, your recreate yourself–you reform. You don’t have the same heart or mind. The way you see the world is forever changed.spa
"
- Lynn Mari
[ total word count . . . 120 words ]
● username
i am apple! i've never had the pleasure of trying for a kiamara before, i'm very excited to see how this competition goes.
● name
orkidea・meaning orchid in maltese
● personality
i only wish the word limit was just a tad bigger! please read below!
● word extra
for my word extra i have chosen to write a bit of a backstory. please read below!
[ personality and story ; respectively ]
spacespac• anxious Sometimes I can be..a little awkward around others. I, um, well I happen to have social anxiety. I wasn't born with it, at least I don't think so..Talking to others really scare me, and I imagine my father is the reason why. Please don't tell him I'm sharing this..but he verbally abused me when I was young, and he forced me to do public speaking. I always freeze when I have to go up in front of people..everyone laughs at me and I stumble with my words or I talk too fast and ramble..
spacespac• peaceful Sometimes, when everything is just too flustering and my brain is jumbled up with thoughts, I go off on my own..When I'm by myself, it's like nothing I've ever felt before, I feel so relaxed. Sometimes it's like I have wings, and I can reach up and grab all the stars right out of space and bring them down to Earth. I have a special place too.. it's small grassy field covered in orchids, and the breeze is amazing. I go there all the time, just to smell the flowers and feel the wind in my fur..
spacspace• level headed I'm not a bragger..please don't think that of me, but I really am quite smart. When I have to talk to strangers, it's hard for me to gather my thoughts and think correctly.. If you're someone I happen to know well, it's best not to argue with me about certain views..I will win the argument. Well..when I talk to the few friends I have..
spacepace• diffident To say the least..I am a little awkward when I'm around other people. Thanks to my social anxiety, it's hard to feel like I'm worth something sometimes. I'm not fond of this..and I wish for change. I blame it on my father sometimes, saying he brought me to being this way.. Other times, I feel like it's my fault.. If I could have been stronger, I wouldn't have this problem.. I'm sorry.. we can change the subject now.
[ total word count . . . 348 words ]
"spaI was only seven when the first attack came. It was the day I had to present my project in front of the whole class, just has everyone else had to do. We had to make a poster on everything about our life, pretty basic. I knew mine was the best, my mother had helped me with it. I was ready to present this, and all morning I had been bouncing with excitement. As usual, my mother woke me. She was a little slow with things, and she had been extra careful lately for a reason I couldn't place a finger on.
Father came out after that, though he didn't pick up mother and swing her around like he used to. He hadn't done that in a long time. Things were different now, but I chose not to focus on it. I was far to proud with my future school day to think of anything depressing.
Time had gone by in a messy blur, and school was chaotic. So many posters, colors, and children running around everywhere with their projects. I still took note of how mine was clearly the best, as many stood in the distance admiring it. Being young, parents had come to support their children, and I was eagerly looking around the room for mother. Whenever parents were able to come to the school, she was the first to arrive, a bouquet of orchids waiting to be gifted to me. However, I couldn't spot her among the adults, and it wasn't long before my name had been called out.
As I stood up to face everyone, my breath caught in my throat. Father was standing among the parents, and in his hand was a lousy flower he had picked off a nearby bush. It was wilted, wrinkled, and had no thought put into it at all. Small pinpricks ran through my arms and feet as I saw him glare down at me, as minutes had passed by and I hadn't said a word. As the look intensified, along with the pressure, I opened my mouth. Yet, only a small squeak came out.
The class erupted into laughter, snorts and coughs and tears. Children clutched their stomach and the adults tried to muffle their voices, but it was obvious that they weren't being secretive. I tried not to look at my father, but I could see that he had closed his fist on the flower, probably destroying the bits of it left. The rest of it I couldn't make out clearly. I could see him turn to the teacher and tell her he'd 'calm me down'. A hand gripped my shoulder, intended to look gentle, but the pain shooting through my body said otherwise. Tears already clouded my eyes as we left the room.
He screamed at me. More then he had ever before, spitting venom into my heart and tearing it with invisible shadowed claws. The words he used were vile, and the hallway went silent. I could tell people were listening in, stunned. His breath smelt strong, it was something I hadn't smelt before, and I couldn't figure out what it was from. He smacked me, too. Physical force didn't bother me though, I wasn't phased by it. The words he was using, the yelling and the screaming, it placed pins in my body and sucked away everything until I found it hard to breathe. I couldn't even cry, the weight on my shoulders was too strong. His wedding ring wasn't on his finger, I had noticed. His hands seemed stained with dirt, and my stomach churned. I had a feeling I wouldn't be coming home to mother's orchids.
Eight years passed since then, but nothing had changed. My heart still had venom on it, torn from shadows. Pins were still in my skin, I could no longer breathe, I couldn't cry, and the weight on my shoulders had settled in. My mouth hadn't opened since then, and it didn't have any reason too. Silence wasn't lonely, just a bit clouded over. I still had my thoughts, even if they were a bit jumbled at times, I still had them.
I had been right that day. I never came home to mother's orchids. I never came home at all. He had dragged me to the car, and thrown me in it. He was terrible at remembering to lock the doors, so as we had turned, I opened it and jumped. There has never been another day when I had run faster then that moment. The wind cried into my ears, willing me to keep running, pushing myself. I couldn't even hear his screams, I was gone. My body burned like fire, but I enjoyed it. It never released me, though.
Then, one day, many years from that day, eight to be exact, I found my release. I always felt like I could hear my mother's voice in the river, giggling and babbling like the brook. Most of all, I could smell her whenever the wind passed by. Orchids, as always. I chased after the wind whenever it happened, but I didn't seem to get anywhere. Until that day.
The wind brought me to the most magical place I had ever been. A field, blanketed by orchids of every color. As I stood in the center of it all, the venom was cured from my heart, the rips in it had been healed. The pins had been taken out, and I could breathe more then ever. I cried, finally able to after so long, and the weight on my shoulders had vanished. I collapsed into the orchids, curling up and letting the sun warm me. I fell asleep to the smell of the orchids, and to the laughter of the brook. I would still stay silence, but not because something was holding me back. I would stay silent because I was free. I had been released.spa"[ total word count . . . 989 words ] 
[ credits . . . thank you everyone so much ]
*not displayed in form
More credit goes to the wonderful ♥Talon, for helping me code! I also want to give a
lot of credit to the amazing Lady Masquerade, who assisted me in all of the writing pieces
I have. I owe her a great deal! Without her, this form would be nothing. 
✧ 
✧ 
