Amariah Brown
Bio
I had an idea for story and then I just started writing. Join me on this journey, and leave your thoughts!!
Stories (3)
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Afterdeath
There was pain in my chest for less than a second and then I found myself sitting on a couch in a four walled gray room. A really nice room that I've never been in before. Aside from the couch the room was empty with recessed lighting giving the room a calming glow. I pushed my curls out of my face when. "Sienna? Great, you're awake. Join me!" a voice calls from in front of me. I whip my head around and the room is still empty. What the fuck, I mumble to myself. "Just stand up darling." the voice informs me. I stand up and what feels like a veil drags itself across my body, and I'm not in the gray room any more. "Sienna! Hello! My name is Rhys. I'm your spirit guide, and you are dead!" A tall smiling blond woman said to me. What. The. Fuck.
By Amariah Brown3 years ago in Fiction
Unchanged
"None of these are giving lime." I said tossing the swatches at the wall. Crying won't change the color of the wall, the wall wont change what happened, but I was hopping, I needed it to help. Melanie walked up to the door way and leaned giving me a pitiful look. "None of these greens are right." I said as if that explained why I was standing there surrounded by green swatches. She sighed as if she were about to speak but I quickly held up a hand, "Whatever you are going to say...Don't. " I said pushing her slender frame out of my way. At 5 foot 11 Melanie has never been small but with how angry I was, I was sure her height would mean nothing if I decided to put my hands on her. I would never, not even after what she did, but I could and would spend the rest of my life fanatsizing about hurting her. I won't though. I need to put this energy into something productive, and this house needs to be remodeled. As soon as I find a mint green for the front room. "I need to find the perfect green." I thought to myself as I paced the hallways of the house. I could feel Melanie walking towards me, shes a glutton for punishement. That is the only reason she would follow me around knowing I won't allow her to speak to me. I never want to hear her voice again, and never was to soon.
By Amariah Brown3 years ago in Fiction
The Terrible Misadventures of the Clinically Depressed
This first entry is an attempt to give a sort of baseline for what my depression looks like. In my 29 years I’ve been given many opportunities to describe my depression, and it still isn’t quite right or it still doesn’t quite capture what it's like but I’m going to try. Through stories and thoughts, but first I want to try to describe it with these words. What my depression feels like:
By Amariah Brown4 years ago in Psyche
