Marilyn Mortician
Bio
We go about our lives pleasing others ignoring the words that desperately want to escape. I am a wildflower of the universe, a mother, and often described by the adjective odd. the previous influence and infect all parts of my writing.
Achievements (1)
Stories (18)
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A lovely Death
"A girl's heart is more than a token to be given away and then so easily broken. A girl's heart is something that should be earned and from it hope that the roots of a family begin to firm. However, all too often as fate generally aids a helping hand a strong woman is beaten down to a little girl again. This is where we begin our ending."
By Marilyn Mortician4 years ago in Fiction
Mamas secret
For any mother, despite knowing your imperfect, you want to do the best and be perfect for your children. What happens when mother is hiding a secret? A secret that has the possibility to destroy her entire family. The mother loved all children, especially her own. She would spend her time tending to all their need. Behind the dresses, the makeup, the mom bun she felt like an imposter. She always preached to her children to be true to themselves she would love them no matter what. She, however, did not love herself. Could it be that she was a tad overweight? Did her parent not dote on her enough?
By Marilyn Mortician4 years ago in Pride
Travelers Tale
Loneliness, it was something Sage had gotten used to long before the end of nations. From what she could remember of her parents they were always more amused... no consumed by her brother than herself. If she thought back to being four years old, she remembered when her parents packed both children up for a magical trip to Ralphie's Amusement Park. Coincidentally, there would be no family fun to be had. They had only arrived to the park five minutes before a thick smoke like fog and the sound of gunshots began to fill the air. They didn't know it then, but this was the day of the New Governments uprising. If she closed her eyes this day became all too real again.
By Marilyn Mortician4 years ago in Fiction
Teddy and I
I can feel the lights wash over me causing me to stir from what has seemed to be a nap that had gone on too long. The lights sting my eyes, but I guess that's to be expected when you live in a place like this. You really don't know what it's like to be this lonely. There are others as I am. Lost in what seems like forever in a wave of darkness. You jump in front of their cameras hoping they might want to play for just a second, but as adults often do, they push you aside paying more attention to their surroundings. Stil, I beg them for one more game of hide and seek. I have spent time wondering through the contortions around me, dancing among the rusted icicles. There were others here, but one by one as they found who they were looking for they left. Those who are left are left in a state of confusion or panic as if this was all a bad dream. Alone I am hoping these visitors with their strange suits and cameras who have illuminated the mystery of this all can help bring him to me. When the darkness returns after all the visitors have left the same memories play round in my head. In my aunts cabin my sister and I played a game until naturally it was time for bed. My sister being so annoying and three years younger than my six-year-old self-had wanted to go for one last walk on deck before bed. My aunt tired out by attending to her three other tantrums today gave in. I begged to stay in, the wind was too chilly for me. It left my cheeks too flushed, plus I had my new teddy to keep me company. My father as my mother put it was a lucky man. The first reason being as she would always say, "because he married such a fine lady as herself," the second reason she would always pause before she stated it was, "He was just dimwitted enough to be in the right places at the right time." It was for this reason we were moving to America. I wasn't quite fond of moving what seemed like a world away; however, with a new teddy I was won over as well. Two months after his luck encounter with an American businessman I sat on the largest boat I had ever seen.
By Marilyn Mortician4 years ago in Fiction
The girl with green lips
The sound of screams is an unfortunate reality you get accustomed to. It is the silence, the silence that burrows deep into your stomach and heart pulling them low, that you never get used to. This place once mighty is a concrete wasteland drowning in silence and rubble. Its name is of no importance as a nightmare was all it had fallen to. It's song was no different than the rest in the end. When the screams grew few the invaders did too, looking for the next city to conquer. Our city lay in ruins with many of us resting forever underneath it fertilizing the soil they so desperately wanted to claim. When the stillness of it all became deafening I ventured out from the rubble which once was my temporary home. Long gone were the broken families separated by either a duty to serve or death. Even the children left parentless had been collected and taken elsewhere. I was a crypt keeper and the city the mausoleum of death. Every structure that lay tucked in my memory lay strewn about the ground in pieces. Bodies of those whose families had either all perished or in their haste not had time to lay them to rest were piled and strewn as well. The bread lines had ran for safer spaces as they and hospitals were shown no mercy. The eyes of the dead would be whenever I closed my eyes reminding me of the reality no one saw coming.
By Marilyn Mortician4 years ago in Fiction
The painter
The Painter The rainbow lay splattered all over his face and hands as he once again painted into the late hours of the night. Everyone called him crazy, but to him there was no life without paint. He had started simple making specks of dirt into mountains then then smashing rocks with his brushstrokes into sand. He had long forgotten his black and greys bringing in with his bights a fair amount of light. But if ever more than painting was there one thing that he loved it was the smallest gift he had been given, his son.
By Marilyn Mortician4 years ago in Fiction
