Creative Writing: Men Did Not Meant To Cry

The lessons began at his mother’s funeral when he was nine. Real men don’t cry. As he stood over his mother’s casket, tears glistening on his eyelashes, he pleaded with them to remain there, prayed that his father would not notice his weakness in this moment. Standing above his mother, he realized how, if he ignored the preacher and his surroundings, he could pretend she was merely sleeping, blissfully dreaming. At his side, his sister sniffled while

I came to a halt. My hands were bloodied and bruised. I finally let out the tears, and it wasn’t because of the pain I inflicted on my hands. It was realisation of losing my friend. Maybe we would have been more than that, even- if he was alive. I heaved, I whimpered, I couldn’t breathe. I yelled in agony, my fists didn’t hurt like how my heart

Stuffed between two pillows,my head was still and my breathing was warm and hard,with the prickling feeling of guilt covering me like a blanket.I ached to sob, but my eyes wouldn't succumb,they seemed adement on keeping my irises dry and stinging from perpetual burning.

There’s never any true emotion. From what I have witnessed if someone cries it’s not very attractive, their eyes swell and become red; they are unable to speak, unable to breathe, unable to do anything. The world around them becomes a blur of colour that merges to grey and the heaviness in their chest locks in their throats. The excruciating pain in the very back of their mind, which never voluntary returns, comes forwards by the slightest reminder - misery. We can’t neglect the tears. Small beads that fall down our cheeks to our neck and the chest. My worst nightmare is becoming a reality, having to wait for the call and praying that his soft voice will provide me with the comfort that I crave; nourishing me in relief. Every time the news on the radio tells of death; my heart clenches at the thought, a family is experiencing the one thing that would break me. How can I be thinking this way? Relief and joy washes over me whilst other families are drowning in grief. What must they be thinking… How must they be feeling? The dreaded scenario repeats itself over and over again in my isolated mind. They are experiencing hell on earth; their child’s

Diamond was so excited about her new furniture purchase that she could not sleep. She stayed awake all night trying to help her Aunties clean. She told her Auntie Mahogany about the 24-hour grocery store for food. Realizing that no one ate, Mahogany agreed to go grocery shopping and she wanted to locate a place to eat. Ebony agreed the Cascade/Camp Creek area had many nice places to eat that were conveniently located to the house for a quick meal. The following day, Ebony remained at the house to await the delivery of the furniture. Diamond begged to stay home, but she received instructions to go to school and be surprised when she came home. The company delivered the furniture as scheduled. The girls wanted to know what to do with the other items and Ebony requested that they place them in

Protect it from whom exactly pray tell? Thiefs, Bandits or Pirates? The village is already peaceful and even if there were trouble it's the adult's responsibility to protect the village furthermore it's my responsibility as your Okaasan to protect you. If you still feel the same way when you're older then I'll teach you some of the techniques I learn during my days as a Marine, but for now I don't want you to worry about the safety of the village instead enjoy your childhood to the fullest. With that being said let's go already, I want the food to be ready by the time Nami and Nojiko come

I didn’t notice the whispers drifting from the half open bedroom door until it was too late. I stood transfixed at the doorway, staring at the love of my life with his love of his life. I couldn’t think, couldn’t move, couldn’t anything. Thankfully, seems like they couldn’t either. I must have stood there for half an hour with my heart being torn slowly out of my chest, but they didn’t even notice me. When the pain got too much, I finally managed to gasp a sob and force myself away from the door.

When the men finally made their way over to us, one man, tall, skin in size, about a quarter of the muscle tone of my pa’pa pushed him into the wall, while another, shorter in stature, with bright blue eyes, the color of sapphire, hit my father from behind. My father fell to the ground, blood dripping down his face, looking hopeless and feeble. I felt so discouraged, the only thing I could do was weep. My father, on the ground, turned to us and told us to run and we did. Half the way to the house, all I could think about was how hopeless I was and how much I wanted to help, but could not. After all that was my father back there, my friend, my protector, my pa’pa. When we finally made it to the porch of our house, we were out of air and I was about ready to collapse. My brother finally mustered up the energy to tell my mother and uncle what happen.

He sat pondering with stinging eyes outside in the frosty evening air. His head was throbbing with a migraine that carried his thoughts to darker times, times that made his heart burn. Times that now caused his lungs to only inhale, that suffocating feeling the feeling of deaths unbearable hug, the engulfment of pain. He had felt it many times before. The anxiety and stomach nausea was almost always with him though only he knew of it. This boy was fluid in the language of pain. For he had the scars the screams and the sorrow to prove it. Currently his lungs began to fail him only allowing an inhale of agony, no oxygen would be permitted to exit, because the panic would not allow it. His eyes begin to blur like they sometimes would and

“He is the goblin general who has done a fine job uniting the goblin nation into a cohesive entity with direction and purpose.”

He had nowhere to go. He had no one to turn to. And I walked on because I didn't know what I could do. I felt terrible. I know you would have felt the same if you had been there, alone, in the dark, looking at this man, his eyes resigned, but at the same time pleading.

The pain became so unbearable that it felt as though it was slowly rotting at my heart, the guilt became so unbearable that it felt like it was quickly burning my brain. Through fear I kept my eyes open, not wanting to close them even though I knew keeping them open wouldn’t help in the slightest. Still, it made me feel safer, more like I could defend myself. My eyes resembled black pearls as I attempted to peer through the darkness, opening my eyes even more in an attempt to see at least something. But still,

Defeated I cried where a partially formed bird laid it's dead body barely formed seizing in pain. Hurt I limped towards the pavilion. Alone I told adults , teachers,and my parents what happened nothing was done whether they cared or not there wasn't much they could do . This outcasted me as I sat I felt nothing but anger but I could not do anything I was already shown abundantly clear how weak I was by my loss. When it was time go I went to the bus head hung low. I rode that bus ride silent I had nothing to say nor could I my voice feeling horse from the screaming. Once I was home i just laid I was to weak to cry anymore. I didn't go anywhere I was to weak to go anywhere I was physically, emotionally,and mentally worn. Weak I just laid feeling sorry for me and the bird for how weak I

Raelynn didn't know when the demon lord had left, nor did she honestly care for the moment as she gave herself over to the bliss of the magic-infused water; something about the steamy liquid seemed to work healing magic deep into her body, and after only basking and bathing herself for a few minutes, it was as if she was renewed and there was no feeling of aching or soreness in her body any more. In fact, it was magic, and for that, it caught the heroine off guard; a demon with such "good" orientated magic which could bolster her own body like such? It felt wrong to her, someone who had been taught so devoutly to the ways of good and bad from such a young age.

The next morning I heard deafening sirens ringing in my ears. Were they coming for me, or was there just a fire nearby? I looked around. In the distance I saw an abandoned house anticipating its crumble. The sirens were approaching closer and closer. I could hear the engine roaring nearer and nearer. The flying dust was visible from my position. It’s an ambulance. Do they see me? I guess not. The ambulance rushed right past me, and I threw myself to the ground, as if I was pushed. Why me? What did I do to deserve this torture? I give up. I couldn’t contain my tears anymore. I started to feel dizzy and overwhelmed,