I’m Not A People Pleaser Anymore

Why won’t you blurt out? You aren’t a saint!”

“I can’t, I am a people pleaser. So I won’t let you flow and spat you right into his face”

“You are a coward, whatever; you have killed my mood. Every night you vent it on me, and I can’t get a sound sleep, thanks to you.”

Why do my inner-self loathe the way I act as if nothing is scant when he assigned me his ‘proposal writing.’ Argh! I couldn’t tell him about the classwork that I left after my cousin held me in her emergency call. I lend her a bike key. She would be on a date, while I would be on my foot to the bus stop.

(What follows next..please click on this original short story about a people pleaser)

MAGNET BREAK

“Do not growl” She snaps at her protruding belly. “How cruel an empty pocket can be? It can’t even weight a petty cent and drools over a loaf of bread.”

” I wish I could feed her” She smirks at her torn pocket. “oh! how poor it could be? Can’t even bothered to be empty like me, like her?”

” How can that person have a tons of cash? he has a credit card too. I can’t take it away and run. I don’t have shoe + my feet is on a peak of blisters. I can’t take it away and whistle like nothing happened. They will point out on my shabby make up I’m putting on. what shall I do? she is freaking out more than me” She caresses the belly.

“wait, I have a magnet. It pulls in the thing I’m staring at- his money, a loaf of bread.”
Suddenly her hand loses the grip and the magnet drops in.

” No magnet doesn’t attract such flashy things. Such an idiot I’m. He taught me about the Magnet, magnetic Field that day. That day when I crumpled the bed sheets while he enjoyed the singular feast I resisted. They said it should be beautiful. But it was not. it was not..”
She cries her dirt off
” Everything that’s unusual, he comes off with my grave in”
she sets her foot in and crumples the magnet.
“I need to feed her”
©aleashaa2016

When he hates poetry

He laments disguised words in a morning newspaper. So, he often rolls them up and bounces into grounded basket. And I had made my mind to paste my piece of paper underneath bed sheets or kitchen tunnel, he would never turned in for. I guess, my pen can live without ink.

When he is into uncomplicated news stories, I must find shovel and draw a hollow near his home. I know, he is slow, even with simple stories. Sigh! I can take my things slow too. Poor at drawing- I think I won’t match an exact circular hollow, an ink is thinking off it. However, it must rest in there, warming up with heaps of mud, shovel scattered.

He is calling me. Perhaps, he is finished with morning read.

“where were you?” he sniffs around and leans closer to me “you smell like an ink. I had never thought if anyone could  leave impression of ink and you do.”

“I was preparing tea, but I could not figure out where the packet of sugar was. I ended up checking it store room.  You know what that room smells like?” Is that a best lie I could come with?

“I know” he grins and kisses my forehead. ” You might have encountered a bottle of ink in one of your drawer”

“How.. do you? know?” I stammer on his truth

“Cause, you always smell like this” he cuffs his arms behind my back and sniffs closely on my neck.”I am hooked to it” he inhales again.

“I thought you hate it” he is way too warm there.

“I do” I can feel his lips protruding on my shoulder.

 

 

 

 

 

You look like your Dad 4

“His slanted eyes piercing into my new saggy coat, unlike your dad’s old hag coat” she prickled beneath his eyes “ those eyes, why do you have to inherit those eyes” she crippled into her tears.

He never thought the sight of his eyes being sliding down beneath her mother’s eye.  He took a circular mirror “ do my eyes resemble my dad?” He could see those eyes sloping down a hill like he used to.

He mended up the flesh of the side ” Oh! its perfect”

She was still crippling  on her nails and tears. So, he couldn’t pat on her back.

He packed back that fish into his trouser and ran back to straight lane. “ I should not take that sloping hills“. He stopped at a friends door and knocked it. As soon as he heard the noises made by latches he breathed in a voice ” Take this fish and give me your tape”

“What for?”

“I must not look like my dad”

“Huh? I can’t understand a thing. Anyways, this fish might serve our dine.”

He gave in the fish and ringed in the tape. He widened his grin, cutting off the length of tape and sticking upwardly each on side of eyes. His friend bombarded ingested air into his face ” wh-at have you done?”

“It does not matter how do I look but I must not look like my Dad.”

 

He is on a tree side.

I wake up in between the woods.  You are on the tree side. I think I ate half of the greens. Why I am on the woods who have stopped wearing green clothes? Do the woods response?

I need something that covers above my head. May be a roof tiled squarely, infinitely. But you are on a tree side. I know you would say ” On your birthday, I purposely didn’t piled up a cream and left the unfinished recipe out there. They said it was going to snow fall. I would love that snowy cream there”

“ But it was my birthday”  I ate flour, egg and sugar that day while he waited for the sky.

And when it rains, it will shower us. I am having thoughts like you do.

We left our house because he decided to breathe in the natural canvas. In short, he is on the tree side. we were bare hand but he carried those woods along his way.

“ do you know? why I brought these woods?

I waved my head side to side

” Pluck those bushes off, I’ll make a tree for us. This wood and those bushes, I’ll clip it together”

“ you are trying to confiscate their homeland for stupid man made tree. can I even call it a tree? Are you even on a tree side?”

 

 

You look like your Dad 3

“My father must have been too old to get on the carousel.” He blabbered throughout the way. He picked up the pebbles on his shirt and on the open side of his trousers. ” I must make that old hag coat heavier so that Mom wouldn’t have any strength to dash it out. If I look like my dad, I must protect it” 

He stopped at a sight where a man was standing between two buckets. ” If I could borrow that buckets, my old hag coat is rescued”  A Man on his beard was setting a trap with a thousands of knots and the bucket was an end zone for the breathless fishes. “ oh! the little guy, do want these salvation on your hunger, pay me a bucks then”

“What is a bucks? Is it another form of buckets, where the fishes have been killed?”

“A bucks where a greed drools, a paper made bucks! Are you hiding there oh boy?”

” That one!” he screamed “ the one my friend brags about” He emptied his pocket and the pebbles showered out. “ I don’t even owe a cent. I am in need of that bucket. Two full buckets of pebbles and my mom would not get rid off of old hag coat”

” bucket, an old hag coat, mom” his beard stammered. ” Take a fish instead, boy”

He locked in that fish inside his pocket and ran off to the door, he slammed before.

she loves grilled fish. my dad used to bring grilled fishes for dinner. my nanny told me

” Mom! look what have I brought?” he raised the breathless fish higher and banged on the delicate roof.

She grinned and came closer to his son “ Choke me with a raw fish, will you?

“I am gonna grill it mom, you will love it”

” you are Continuing (Daily Post) to look like your dad”

“MOM! stop it. I’m tired of hearing the same words” he hiccuped his tears into the floor.

” Those same non guilty eyes I loathe the most” her nails prickled beneath his eyes

 

 

 

 

You look like your dad; 2

you look like your dad: 1

“My dad must have been bad” he slams his word and the door shut down. She takes a corner and rest in it.

He walks down the lane of an old man tale where he can find a clue of his old hag coat. An old man is in awe of smoke. The breeze softens and he whims ” Go away! I can’t tell you more. Damn! I can’t have a sight of you.”

“ Because I do paste around his face” He literally shivers on his knees.” you don’t know him and you can’t dare to blame me that i look like him“. he reddens and blues to the scream.

“You are a brat, aren’t you? I have a dare to announce that you look like your dad. I can make tales and whip that around thousand houses you have not known off. Shoo! Shoo! Bratty limp” He is in awe of smoke again.

He balls his hand and runs off to the playground. ” I am in a wrong place. They won’t let me off because I have none with me. My mom is with her nails and my Father- I don’t know?”

He looks at the Carousel (Daily prompt) 

“ Do you want a ride kiddo? TICKET??”

He cloaks his tongue

” I loathe my job, Okay! whom are you with?”

“my dad”

“so, where is he”

He points at himself “They say I do resemble my father, Can’t I be a Dad for myself ?”

You look like your Dad

“Mom! That old hag coat is protruding. Have you seen that?

Mom! Mamma! Mamma! Mom!” He lets out a big sigh

“Why do you resemble your Father” She adds another sigh and the entire house dance on the silence. She taps on the wooden floor, pokes the pocket of old hag coat.“Nothing” Temporary air escape immediately as it has been caught for trespassing.

“I thought you had choked the money on there. I was dreaming to be served at that fancy restaurant my friend brag about” He cries out the ceiling. ” Why don’t you clutch me and choke me to the death” She paints the wood with her nails

“I don’t have nail like yours” he watches the wood.

“Borrow mine”

“Is that Possible?”

Mom! Let me grow my nails each months passes by. I’ll stitch the cents in there, on my nails and nudge that pocket with it. So, don’t throw my old hag. If I look like him, why don’t you owe me like you should. You loved Dad. Nanny told me

“Because, You look like your Dad” She rolled as tears on the peak of her nose

Substandard; Daily Prompt

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I nodded within his warmth

“I walk fast” He stroked and striped his long legs on each small partition of pavement. “so, walk with me” he gazed at me. oh! I must run like National athlete. I ran with him. I must have lost our keys while hopping along him. our house were against us. We slept at the basement that night.

“I can’t sleep“He flipped the pages of walls again and again. So, we stalked the cockroaches that night. “I tried licensing for the cannon to shoot out their dynasty” I sniped at his back. His chuckling vibrated in the spine. I wish I could see his face. I am used to his cold beard.

Finally,  I saw his beard hung down and his lips divorced within the vacant hallow. He hid me in his sweaty chest and bated;

I’ll earn a ton and gift you a cannon. Kill all those cockroaches for me

 I nodded within his warmth.

 

After the feels! Chapter 1

I can whisper my hello to curtains. please! stand still. I could not dream to dominate.Shit! he seized every crumpling I had, since last night. He owned me. I could breathe him next to the crippling sheets. Where is he now? i drummed the warmth to the side and invited the morning breeze within my search team.

There he is! sipping the anxiety, I withhold. he stares. Does he remember the last night like i do? pulling the chair next to him, I acclaimed to be best spy ever. Still, his glares are blank and his words skied, sided, finally banged to the blockade tree like on a middle of a ride. Get yourself a breakfast he flew away on his car keys. so, they say a man a superman, maybe.

I am not hungry. I am not sleepy as well. If i return to the bedroom, i could recollect and get my emotion upright. I want it slanted. what if it slides and dumps to dusty ground, i’ll waste the wasted energy to brush off. I wish i could fly away, so they say a woman a superwoman

©aleashaa

His cup. I can still smell his breathe on the nape of the neck, aging the knees in kneeling prey. His wrinkled shirts, the last time i had seen yesterday mocked me in its lifeless sleeve.In between the cup and the shirt, i could notice a hope in envelope. If it was an old-fashioned letters: love letters. Hurriedly, i checked it into;