akariah

Joined February 2021

7 stories

Bio

Aspiring writer, single mom, syfy fiction fantasy nerd!

Stories (7)

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There’s no cure for human nature….
That’s what the little twat yelled at me as her and her little cockroaches threw eggs at me. Can you believe the audacity of it all? They boycott in front of my office just because some of my projects have torn down large nature areas. Like I’m the only one! There are hundreds of property developers like me but they choose to harass me, the little….
By akariah4 years ago in Earth
Depression Weigh down.
I feel heavy. Living threw and currently in a pandemic mental illness cases have risen. This means quite a lot of things but in this case it means there are more people who will sympathize with me and understand. I wish that gave me some comfort but it does not.
By akariah4 years ago in Psyche
The devil is in the details.
I’ve always leaned more to the less popular ideas, like why I’m sitting on a bench in Central Park in the middle of February. Like I’ve done once a week for the past three months. I like the cold weather. Most New Yorkers stray away from the park during the colder months, especially in the first few hours of the morning, but not me. I like to sit with a coffee and watch the light start to slowly brighten the sky. I like the cold nipping at my fingertips and nose waking up my blood and making me feel, for lack of a better word, alive. It’s a strange type of energy, not quite adrenaline but a kind of hum that corses threw me awakening all of my synopsis and saying ‘oh hey remember me I’m here too’. Every nook, cranny, cell and pore get the feeling of cold. The dark sky slowly being lightened by the day; showing me proof that the dark does not last forever and I’m here.
By akariah4 years ago in Fiction
Not a terrible way to die.
I can’t take it anymore. I press the palms of my hands hard into my eyes until it hurts. The pain makes me feel better somehow. It reminds me I’m real and that I don’t like pain. I roll over to look at the small wood clock that sits on my bedside table. Two am, the witching hour. Not that I believe in any of that but I did spend a great deal of my life believing I was cursed. I sit up and see the small chocolate cake sitting on the table in my kitchen. “Accept it” my therapist voice echos threw my mind. I run my hands threw my ear length hair angrily.
By akariah5 years ago in Psyche
An awkward stage
I’m in an awkward stage, both mentally and physically. I’m not old but I’m also not young. I’m in my thirty’s and have a son but I also, in my head, still feel like a young person. For example every so often my son will yell mom from downstairs or when I’m catching up with an old friend and I have that “what” moment and have to remind myself like ‘oh yeah I have a child’. It kind of funny but also a little sad. I can’t fathom being married but I’m also at that age so I’m constantly stuck in this weird mental area where I’m the responsible adult who is a mom but also that still a teenager who feels to young for all this responsibility or children, marriage and mortgage.
By akariah5 years ago in Motivation
Control varies
I bake. Baking isn't the hardest thing to do, in fact the complexities of baking varies with each recipe. Its a common place thing that has countless instagrams and cupcake shops or shows to choose from.
By akariah5 years ago in Motivation
The split
Emptiness, I feel it again. It wakes me up naturally like most mornings before the sun is even out. Rita’s bed across the room is empty as usual. The chief surgeon of this hospital would be up before dawn to work wouldn’t she? I climb out of bed to get ready for the day. For this half life I’ve only known for the past three months.
By akariah5 years ago in Fiction