Thursday, October 3, 2013

week 36 fanficflashfic

Here's the prompt chosen by last week's winner, @moonlit__girl:

Remember to check the rules

Have your 100 - 200 words submitted by 12:01am Friday, October 4, US EDST.

We want anything and everything: poetry, prose, fanfic, OF. 


Leave your entry as a comment - include your word count, and your twitter handle if you have one.

Probably good practice to reference any source material, too. 

FYI - entries that exceed (or are under) the word limits will not be considered by the judge.

Also, I've had a few questions lately regarding the submission of more than one entry. Yes, you may submit more than one flashfic. I'm going to say a maximum of two (2) entries though. Furthermore, they're not to be continuations, or related to each other in any way -- they need to be completely separate, stand alone entries. 

P.S. Don't forget to follow @fanficflashfic on twitter.



  1. Words: 153

    Twitter: midnightsun1901

    The voices are like knives, they pierce her venerable spirit.

    They sneer at her weight, proclaim her worthlessness.

    She needs to banish the voices before they can consume her.

    If she doesn't they will control her, make her do things deemed unwise.

    Her hand will reach for the hilt of the blade and she will cut jagged lines into her skin.

    Perhaps today they will dig deep enough to end it all, to send her tumbling into a black void of nothing.

    But she doesn't want to give in.

    She refuses to let the voices possess her.

    One ear bud in, all she can hear is a faint whisper from them.

    Once the other is in, the lilting lullaby drowns out the voices, until they are no more.

    She can control her fate.

    Whether it be through music or will, she won't let them win.

    She is the queen of her own mind.

  2. Word count: 100 words, on the nose
    Twitter handle: @AnnaLund2011


    Yet another wave that hits me in the solar plexus.

    Yet another line that cuts me to the quick.

    Yet another lie that is presented so sweetly.

    Yet another day that makes me want to die.

    And then.

    And then I hear a new kind of music, one that can heal instead of bruise.

    I’ll keep my scars, but the phantom pain is gone.

    Right there in the heart of it, is where I find the way forward.

    The music that takes me by the hand and leads me out.

    This is the only music one should listen to anyway.


    1. "I'll keep my scars, but the phantom pain is gone."

      I love that line.

  3. Word count 200 on the nose per GDocs


    He made it seem effortless, the playing. Long fingers strumming the guitar strings, his forearms defined by years of movement so that tendons stood out and musculature beckoned. The thrum of the chords rolled from the belly of the acoustic instrument to touch her as she paused in her daily journey.

    With a choppy stutter in his heart, he stilled his fingers and silenced his strings. “Morning, ma’am.”

    “That’s just..beautiful,” she whispered, eyeing his instrument and then meeting his gaze. Her eyes were a different shade of blue than his, like the summer sky staring down at a rare blue pimpernel. She was sad, though, because he looked strung out, with gaunt cheeks and circles under his eyes. Kneeling next to him, she tossed folded bills into the fedora that he had propped upside down next to him. “Please, don’t spend that on drugs, okay? Get something to eat.”

    “I don’t do anything, ma’am,” he assured her, his voice a sultry Southern drawl. “Just my music.” He held out his arms. They were littered with scars, but no needle tracks. “See?”

    Relieved, she brushed a lock of hair from his forehead. “What’s your name, Mr. Music?”


    “I’m Alice.”

  4. Pinkcookie (PM me at
    125 words

    Heart thrumming wildly,

    Jealously flares like an out of control forest fire

    That no amount of water or chemicals could ever extinguish.

    Flames ravaging through my body like a savage beast,

    I plead for any small amount of relief.

    Soon the flames create charred trails viciously meandering along my body.

    I brush the cinders away and see the scars your distain left there.

    Taking the stage, the singer’s velvet voice provides an unexpected

    Distraction that makes me momentarily forget my still smoldering scars.

    This music soothes the savage beast of my jealousy and

    Provides a soothing balm to my recent rage.

    Closing my eyes to listen, the smoldering stops and my scars slowly fade
    Your music is a miracle drug and I’m it’s newest addict.

  5. @ChocoMG2112

    I'm still on vacation this week (last week too).
    So nothing from me.

    Not that anyone noticed. LOL

  6. @Mylisssa
    Words: 200

    She stood at the back of the bar, tugging on her shirt sleeves to cover self-inflicted scars.

    When she’d walked by the open door, the muted sound of an acoustic guitar could barely be heard over the crowd, but it drew her inside.

    She saw someone familiar sitting on a stool, whose dark hair was falling into his eyes as he strummed his guitar.

    In high school, he was one of the popular guys who never acknowledged her. She’d always been invisible. All she remembered about him was his cocky grin and lettermen’s jacket.

    She couldn’t recall his name, but as he sang, she closed her eyes and leaned against the wall. She couldn’t make out the words he was crooning, but she could feel the melody he played.

    His set ended, but she kept her eyes closed and stayed lost in a haze.


    She opened her eyes, and he was in front of her.

    “I thought that was you.” He frowned at her blank stare. “You don’t remember me?
    I was the clumsy jock you’d never talk to.”

    Her brow furrowed. “You never tried.”

    “I did. You ignored me.” He nodded toward the door. “Can we talk outside?”

  7. Twitter - @Aleeab4u
    Word count - 182

    . . . . . .

    You say you're beat down tired, right straight through your bones. Lost in the rhythm of a life gone wrong, chasing a high that only burned you out. Wanna lay your weary body in the long, cool grass and hold something pure.
    Something just like her.

    You hear her sing a cappella, and you itch to find her melody. Stroke it out on the chords of your six-string, let her sweet song set you free. Wanna tangle up in her lyrics and kiss, rub, taste every word, shiny new.
    Make her croon so sweet for you.

    But she marches to the beat of a different drummer, death metal playing in the wings. You see her sway to your homespun groove, thinking you hear angels sing. It's only hellfire packaged nice, and that girl's burning up inside.
    Got her own kinda healing to find.

    So pack it up, pack it in. Nothing here for you.
    Pack it up, close it tight. Take that higher road.
    Pack it up, pack it in. Move on music man.
    Go on, take the long way home, again.

  8. Twitter @melfin80
    103 words

    I hear the words,
    In my head,
    On a never ending loop,
    Since the day you left.

    Each word like a knife,
    Bleeding my heart,

    The pain never healing,
    Scar tissue never forming.
    The empty ache,
    Sucking me dry.

    At the end of my rope,
    Hope is gone,
    But -
    Then I hear the music,
    And it’s words,
    Speaking to my heart.

    I feel a prick,
    Then a pull,
    Another prick,
    And pull.
    The first stich
    Is placed.

    The crack begins to close.
    And hope fills my soul.
    The song weaving inside me.
    I will be whole again.

  9. Twitter: @BlackLioness_
    Word Count: 200

    Hurt and betrayal.

    That’s what I saw in the eyes of my family members as I turned my back on them and walked toward my new life. It pained me then, and even now, as I sit here on the mattress of a bed that isn’t mine with my back against hard concrete, the ache in my chest hasn’t gone.

    I absently trace my fingers along my collarbone. I’d thought the pain of the needle as it etched reminders of my previous life into my skin would distract me. It didn’t. I’m not sure that anything ever will. When I sigh, the sound of my name being called causes me to look up.

    “Thinking of them?” he asks. The wood in his hands seems foreign in this place of stone and concrete.

    I don’t have to answer him directly—he already knows. I nod in the direction of the instrument. “I didn’t know you played.”

    Dark blue eyes gaze at me, hard, yet tender at the same time. “We’re still learning about each other, Tris.” Regripping the neck, he lifts the guitar and settles himself.

    He strums, and the sound is like analgesia on my soul.

    Just like this boy.

  10. Pinkcookie (PM me at )
    160 words

    In my mind you are music; the most beautiful melody ever composed. I hum it; I murmur it to myself all throughout the long days. I hear it each night as I drift to sleep thinking of you. My beautiful man has a matching beautiful song.

    There are no words, but the flow and ebb of the music speaks volumes about you. It says you are strong, brave, confident, giving and true. But mostly it speaks to me of your never ending love for me. It promises to bring you home whole and healthy in mind and body.

    I hope and pray you have a song in your mind that is me and that it gives you the same constant comfort I receive. Each day you are gone is a scar upon my heart, but your gentle song heals every single one.

    Come home to me sweetheart, I’m waiting for you.

    Until then, your music sustains me and my soul.

  11. I sat at the piano and let my fingers express the feelings I couldn’t speak.

    I had lost everything.

    I had gambled on a sure thing only to end up empty handed.

    I felt the tears fall on the ivory keys, but my tempo never faltered.

    It reminded me to stay strong. To endure the hardships because the hardest things in life make you stronger.

    I let the music take me away. The notes seemed to heal me in ways I could never imagine. I felt lighter just by playing.

    Then I felt a hand on my shoulder and I knew I would be okay.

    The music had gotten me in this mess, but it would get me out too.

    I was in love with my music, and because of that love I stumbled upon my other half.

    My piano teacher.

    The age difference was only five years, but my love wasn’t accepted by everyone.

    My music was. And as long as we shared our love with each other, I would continue to share my music with the world.

    I was an adult and those adult choices sucked.

    I continued to play.

    I continued to heal.

    Word Count: 196
    Twitter: @TinsleyWarren