ShopDreamUp AI ArtDreamUp
Deviation Actions
Literature Text
Michelangelo looked around the room, eyes spilling small tears. The large tears had gone long ago. He held the box with the eggs close, almost afraid to put them down to pick up the things he needed. The eggs were nestled on a small pile of protective things; his leather wallet laid out flat and bumpy upon his playstation, his old GamerTech shirt, a remnant of his last job from before his marriage, camouflaging the bank papers and cards he would need. Still, he put them down next to the toilet and fetched the final bundle of baby things he had saved from under the sink.
Gently laying out the soft things upon the warm eggs and then tucking the toys brought from his mom on top, he sighed gently and gathered the heavy box to his carapace. He glanced down the hall at the art studio, certain whatever he'd left out would be slashed. Thankfully, most of his clients had accepted his story of a busted pipe and taken the half finished paintings away with his promises to finish them. He hoped he'd have a new studio soon. He knew he'd sent away everything else of consequence.
Surprising, since the house still seemed a cluttered mess.
Gently laying out the soft things upon the warm eggs and then tucking the toys brought from his mom on top, he sighed gently and gathered the heavy box to his carapace. He glanced down the hall at the art studio, certain whatever he'd left out would be slashed. Thankfully, most of his clients had accepted his story of a busted pipe and taken the half finished paintings away with his promises to finish them. He hoped he'd have a new studio soon. He knew he'd sent away everything else of consequence.
Surprising, since the house still seemed a cluttered mess.
Welcome to Sirah Morgan's Freedom!
Yes, I'm STILL ProphetElla BUT, I've had some mega changes in my life and wanted to gather my friends again. As Always, I Answer to my name on Fb. Right now, my husband and I are working on a divorce by way of my attempt to remove the kids from the household the day I moved to a domestic violence shelter-- alone... All else here that follows will be a reflection on REAL events and the victims of domestic violence I have met out here on the streets. Mature content is an inevitability.
I WILL include one character death-- but the guys will make it and half of you hate that chick anyways-- this reflects the large percentage of women who either kill themselves in domestic abuse situations or even after realizing their peril return once tooo often. Recently, in Las Vegas, a woman attempted to receive a TPO = restraining order and on return after it was denied-- her husband killed her and their children. This is one reason I have not attempted to return home after the one attack while holding my youngest-- prayers are welcome, pity and questions not so much-- I can't answer beyond--
Yes, I have been in shelter(s), no I refuse to join the land of statistics and aggravate that man I married by making contact. ANY CONTACT with him or my beloved babies. The horror stories told herein are true and yes i am downloading my other stories to complete. But, give me time, I have to find my kids as they moved out of the apartment this week to an unknown location. Reality is going to have a lot of pull on this story. And I'm still REALLY at RISK for being homeless despite finding a new bed to lay my head. Looks like I don't get to share July 22nd with my neediest baby, Cricket. Pray for my lil Savannah to know momma loves her.
But, The Fourth of July was awesome. I bought a new rollie suitcase, got $20 for trading out the old one on the side of the street in full view of a casino, met up with a friend I'd already eaten meals with, entered a WATERMELON eating Contest and had ribs and sweet potato fries for 2 while trying to beg a true hick to rewrite Victorian theme novels into hillbillies (Jane A_____ being my main suggestion after family stories were shared). I got through 9 pieces of watermelon in 2 minutes flat-- easily saved myself 10 bucks on nummy goodness there. It's been a wonder of a ride.. but, there's no way off this roller coaster and I am not going to jump for it. I'll hold my babies again but for now.. here is my grief for all to see.
Yes, I'm STILL ProphetElla BUT, I've had some mega changes in my life and wanted to gather my friends again. As Always, I Answer to my name on Fb. Right now, my husband and I are working on a divorce by way of my attempt to remove the kids from the household the day I moved to a domestic violence shelter-- alone... All else here that follows will be a reflection on REAL events and the victims of domestic violence I have met out here on the streets. Mature content is an inevitability.
I WILL include one character death-- but the guys will make it and half of you hate that chick anyways-- this reflects the large percentage of women who either kill themselves in domestic abuse situations or even after realizing their peril return once tooo often. Recently, in Las Vegas, a woman attempted to receive a TPO = restraining order and on return after it was denied-- her husband killed her and their children. This is one reason I have not attempted to return home after the one attack while holding my youngest-- prayers are welcome, pity and questions not so much-- I can't answer beyond--
Yes, I have been in shelter(s), no I refuse to join the land of statistics and aggravate that man I married by making contact. ANY CONTACT with him or my beloved babies. The horror stories told herein are true and yes i am downloading my other stories to complete. But, give me time, I have to find my kids as they moved out of the apartment this week to an unknown location. Reality is going to have a lot of pull on this story. And I'm still REALLY at RISK for being homeless despite finding a new bed to lay my head. Looks like I don't get to share July 22nd with my neediest baby, Cricket. Pray for my lil Savannah to know momma loves her.
But, The Fourth of July was awesome. I bought a new rollie suitcase, got $20 for trading out the old one on the side of the street in full view of a casino, met up with a friend I'd already eaten meals with, entered a WATERMELON eating Contest and had ribs and sweet potato fries for 2 while trying to beg a true hick to rewrite Victorian theme novels into hillbillies (Jane A_____ being my main suggestion after family stories were shared). I got through 9 pieces of watermelon in 2 minutes flat-- easily saved myself 10 bucks on nummy goodness there. It's been a wonder of a ride.. but, there's no way off this roller coaster and I am not going to jump for it. I'll hold my babies again but for now.. here is my grief for all to see.
© 2016 - 2024 Prophetella
Comments3
Join the community to add your comment. Already a deviant? Log In
My thoughts are with you Sirah. I can't imagine what it must be like to brave your way through this but I am proud to call you my friend. Not everyone can get through something like this so gracefully.