| Original Work - No song

| Battle of Perspective

It was a battle of perspective.

John Bundy stood at the crime scene, his coat billowing softly in the wind. The police tape blocked the people of the body lying on the ground, their whispers being thrown into the wind before the detective could make any of the soft voices out. The white chalk highlighted where the body was resting, right underneath the window of Harry Turner's house.

Bundy's brows were furrowed in confusion, trying to make sense of the situation. It seemed like a suicide, the evidence was clear, the data showed that it seemed to be a suicide. Hell, they had even found a letter on the window-sill of the small room. What made Bundy so confused of the claim was that it just didn't seem right. He knew Turner, he wouldn't just off himself like that, but yet here was his body right there in front of him.

Bundy wondered if he had any enemies.

Turner always had a bubbly personality, Bundy found it hard to believe anyone was out to kill him. Perhaps a serial killer had come and killed him, staging it as a suicide. Perhaps Turner was wearing a mask the whole time, and he really wanted to.. you know. The argument was weak, the evidence pointing towards just a suicide. The opposing claims floating around his head seemed to just be denial that his best friend really wouldn't do that to himself.

Bundy was glad he was a detective. That's what detectives are for, figuring out things. The connotation of one making him a genius, twirling a pipe and tipping his Sherlock's hat. But he didn't feel confident about what happened that night. He felt as if his world was falling apart. And how could he not? His best friend was dead. And now he has to solve a case surrounding him.

A job of a detective is to find the truth from everyone's point of view. A bad detective would use his own perspective, often tainting the truth and sometimes even convicting the wrong person for a crime. Bundy wouldn't let a habit like that corrupt his work, though he didn't realize it already was. He was a suspect himself, being Turner's closest friend, another detective would come to question him. Bundy promised his friend he'd find the killer.

But as soon as Bundy read the letter, his hopes were crushed. The tone of his writing, it seemed so real. The lines were wobbly, as if his hand was shaking as he wrote it. It sounded just like him, and Bundy believed, just for a second, it might have really just been another case of death by themself. But he shook his head scanning his eyes over the letter again. It was believable, it seemed like it could happen. He believed it, letting his perspective melt with the rest of the populus. It was a suicide, that's all it was. But that turned out to be Bundy's biggest mistake.

He didn't realize Turner didn't loop his y's like in the letter until much, much later. 

| 513 words

| Original work - No song

| Lizard Tails

If you rip off a lizard's tail, it grows back.

Such was the rule of nature and life that every playground child knew. Catch a lizard, rip it's tail, and watch it grow back in your fish tank with no water. Such was the rule of nature and life that every hawk and snake knew. Never catch a lizard by its tail, you'll only get the tail and not the lizard. I never had to deal with such rules, as for me, I would catch a lizard by its tail. I'll lose the tail, but not the lizard.

-

The kids circled around the playground like horses in a mary-go-round. They climbed up and down slides, fell down poles, stomped on the higher levels and ran on the lower levels. They shimmied wood chips through the holes and blocked children from the twisty slide. I stood behind the fence, my pupils narrowed, the yellow that surrounded the thin lines dark with jealousy. They didn't have tails, their faces were blurry and I hated that my life was so clear while they hated me for having everything I wanted. But I didn't have everything I wanted. They wanted to hurt me, I just wanted to be free. Take me away to your nest hawks, it would be better than sitting here, waiting for the blurry kids to come and rip my tail away. It swayed behind me, brushing sage-brush because I can never control it anyways. The kids had hawk tails, I had a lizard tail so I was their prey. There was nothing stopping them from eating me, hurting me until I wished I could curl up and die. I need food for my friend, as he couldn't hunt for himself. The blurry kids made him blind. I look at him, a slight smile tugging at his lips.

We were different from the kids, but we were the same between us.

| 320 words

| Original Work - No Song

| Limbo

"Look at me. Just take deep breaths, everything is going to be alright."

That was the last thing I heard before I black out into the space of oblivion. Voices sounded around me, the fast beeping of some kind of.. thing that I just can't place the meaning of. It was like I was underwater with ear plugs, everything seemed drowned out and dead. As if they were walking away from me, I can't even remember who. Where the hell was I anyways? I've forgotten long ago, it seemed like ages since I closed my eyes. My hands had twitched, feeling.. something grab onto it. The warmth was so comforting, it was like it cared for me. But I didn't know who, I even lost the feeling of the soft cloth underneath me.

That hand was the last thing I felt before I went under.

-

Grass tickled my nose, making me sneeze and roll over to try to avoid it. It only made more grass brush my face, so I sat up grumbling and wondering why I wasn't in my bed. I opened my eyes to see what had woken me up in my slumber.

Everything was gray.

The grass below me was devoid of color as it swayed in the gentle breeze, brushing up my thighs and calves. Light gray dandelions dotted the expanse, a few seeds blowing away from the rare bulbs of the things. The sky was a slate bowl above me, flat and gray with a cover of concrete clouds even though there was no sprinkle to shower on me. I was still in a hospital gown I think and it swayed gently in the breeze. I watched with awe as it morphed into a shirt and some shorts, the gown gone. But it was gray, just like everything else here.

I stood, closing my gaping mouth and moving slowly in a circle around the expanse. The field seemed to run for miles, no sign of trees or hills or anything really. Just field and sky for as far as you can see until they met at the horizon.

Was this heaven? The place where you went when you died? It sure didn't seem like it. Where were the angels, the fluffy clouds and clocks like in 'All Dogs Go to Heaven'? Hell, why don't I have any angel wings or a gown or a harp in my hands? I kick at the grass with my shoe, huffing softly to myself. What even is this place?

"You don't know where you went to?" I whipped around in the grass, searching for a bit before seeing a strange looking thing in the grass. It had long horns and wild teeth, though it was clear it was still somewhat human seeing the fact that it just talked to me.

"W-what are you?" I stammered. Way to go Andrew, this thing you just found might eat you after all. It grinned, it's sharp teeth grinding against each other.

"Dunno. Whatever I'm gonna be I'll go back into the real world as it." It stood, showing me a little centaur thing that just looked absolutely adorable.

"Where are we?" I asked, staring up at the slate sky. It seemed that the sky never moved, never showing a night or day or anything.

"Some kind of limbo or somethin. I don't really care." It's hooves ripped up the ground as it shrugged, ripping a daffodil out of the ground in its path.

I suddenly remember my family, my mother and father who had probably watched me die at my hospital bed. I whipped my head down to the goat thing as it stared back with his strange eyes.

"H-how do I get out of here?" I looked around, trying to find something, anything that could indicate my way home. The centaur only waved its hand at me.

"Don't bother. You'll walk for miles, never gettin' tired, never gettin' hungry. You'll walk so far you won't even know how far you've walked. Walk for long enough and you'll go insane!" It grinned at me before falling back on the dull grass with a sigh. "So just sit here with me so I don't go insane with all the loneliness."

I sighed, laying down next to the goat thing and staring up at the sky. It wasn't like we had anything better to do.

What's my name anyways? 

| 735 words

(This was from my last oneshot book I deleted)

| Eddsworld - Tomtord

| Drunk 

Tom was a strange man. A mystery, like his black eyes. No one knew how he had them, and no one knew Tom. His friends thought they did, they wanted to believe it. But they never knew Tom. Tom didn't even know himself.

At first he was very open to his friends about things. They listened, they cared. One of them, Tord to be specific, never really seemed to get along with Tom anyway. The two constantly fought, and though at first their friends attempted to stop them, they eventually let them fight them out. It became much more physical.

Tord would often push Tom around, into walls or other things. He always thought of it as fun. It was what they did in Norway anyway. Other times Tord would be completely kind and thoughtful with Tom, listening to his problems and comforting him when he cried. Sometimes Tord would be blank, like paper. He had many different faces to put on for them all.

This didn't stop Tom from falling in love with Tord.

You may have thought that the fights would only shred this love but, alas, it only made it deepen. Tom often hated himself for his feelings towards the Norwegian, but it made him forget about other things, so he stuck with it. It was the day when Tord left for the big city that Tom planned to confess his feelings to Tord. But Tord left before he could say anything.

Tom drank that day.

Edd and Matt attempted to get Tom to stop drinking at first. But Tom only drank more. They eventually stopped trying. They tried to get Tom to talk about his problems. Tom only shut them out more. They eventually stopped trying. They tried to be better friends, but Tom only told them he didn't need their help.

They stopped trying.

All they could do was wait for Tom to climb out of the hole he dug. And that was a battle for Tom.

The day came when the incident occurred. Tom hated himself for falling for such an evil, evil, person. The person who ruined him and his friend's lives. Tom questioned whether or not he could call them his friends. He shut them out from his life.

Edd and Matt stood helplessly from the sidelines and Tom fell farther into self hate and alcohol.

They wondered whether Tom would ever get better again.

-Tom's POV-

I grumbled as a faint knock sounded from my door. Rolling in my sheets, I faced the wall, meaning to ignore it. The crusty bed sheets rubbed against my bare arms, making the cuts sting.

I added a few last night.

I groaned as the knocking continued, kicking the sheets off of him. I reached for my blue hoodie and some pants. Slipping on the garments I stumbled through the apartment, tripping over the various bottles I didn't bother to clean up.

Like it would matter if your apartment is clean. Why are you still here, anyways?

Oh god not this again. I opened the door a crack, making sure the chain is in place.

"What the fuck do you wa-" I stopped, my jaw hanging slightly as I stared at the person outside my door. It couldn't be, could it? He was dead!

He

Was

Dead!

I have to be hallucinating now.

"Tom, is that you? May I come in?" All I could see of Tord was one side of his face, so I slowly unlocked the chain and swung the door open. Oh my god. His face.. Scars ran down the right side of his face and down his neck. I assumed it went down the rest of his right side as well. Visible chunks were missing from his ear and his eye's originally red coloration had faded. Now his eye was pink with a gray pupil.

"Tord.. Did I.. Do this to you?" I said slowly, measuring my words. I couldn't believe it. He survived the explosion, but it had done this to him?

See? You hurt him, you made him ugly. Like you. You're a monster.

Shut up.

I whimpered, my hand slipping from the door as I stepped aside and let Tord into the apartment. I closed the door, feeling the air rush into my face from the hall outside. Tord stood there, turning slowly and staring at the various trash and bottles that littered the floor. I gulped.

He's going to hate you, Tom. Look at the mess. A symbol of how weak you are.

Shut up, shut up, shut up.

You can't shut me up for long. You know I'm right.

I was snapped out of my thoughts when I heard the clinking of glass in front of me. I looked up, seeing that Tord had started to clean up my apartment. I shook my head, walking up to him and taking the broom he had picked up from his hands.

"Tord you don't need to clean my apartment, I'm fine." I snapped, reaching for the dustpan. But he only took the broom back from me.

"Tom, you can't live in conditions like this. Let me help you." He spoke softly, like a mother comforting a child.

"Bu-"

"No buts Tom." He started to sweep again and I sighed, bending down to help him. When we were done I walked into the kitchen to put the broom away. But my sleeve caught on the edge of the counter next to the fridge. Shit.

I tried tugging my sleeve away, but it only pulled my sleeve up, revealing the cuts in all their glory. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck! I tugged harder, finally snapping out of the counter's grasp and onto the floor. "Tom are you oka-" Tord rushed into the room, but stopped mid sentence when he saw my cuts. "Tom.." He whispered, reaching out to brush my arm with his fingertips. I whimpered in pain.

"Are there.. More?" Tord's voice was strained. I could tell he was holding back tears, as was I. I nodded, pulling up my other sleeve to reveal the rest of them. I couldn't hold back anymore. I sobbed, holding my head in my hands and pulling my knees to my chest.

He saw. He's going to hate you now that he knows how pathetic you are.

"No, no, please stop!" I wailed. My tears were black as they always were. I never let people see me cry. Tord gasped, then pulled me into a tight hug. I sobbed into his shoulder, not hugging back. He rubbed circles in my back while rocking me back and forth.

We stayed like that for a while. I had lost track of time at that point. It was Tord who pulled away, holding my shoulders gently and staring at me with sad eyes.

"Let's bandage up those cuts, okay Tom?" He smiled, a warm, hopeful smile. I smiled weakly, and let him take my arm as he dug in his hoodie pocket. After pulling out a cigar case and a few other things he found what he was looking for~ bandages and alcohol wipes. Taking the wipes out of the package, he cleansed my arm with them.

I winced in pain as the wipe grazed over my newer ones. Tord took his free hands and rubbed my head. I sighed, leaning into Tord on the kitchen floor. He smiled softly, before reaching for the bandages and wrapping my arms with them. Putting his things back in his hoodie pocket, he picked me up and set me on the couch. My sheets were getting washed, so my bed was bare.

"Oh Tom, I wish I knew. I would've come sooner." He sat down next to me, placing my head in his lap. He ran his fingers through my hair, causing me to sigh in happiness.

It's fake. He would never love you like you love him. He would never love a monster.

But the voice was fading. Tord reached up behind him to lay the spare blanket over my body. He bent down to kiss my forehead, making me blush. "I have to go, I have other responsibilities." He said quietly, cupping my cheek gently. I smiled, placing my hand on his.

"Will you come back?" I asked quietly. He nodded, stroking the side of my face gently.

"Of course min kjærlighet," he whispered. I closed my eyes, waiting for the voice to come and taunt me.

But it never came

I smiled.

- Edd's POV -

I sighed, cuddled up next to Matt. We were watching a movie, but I knew both of us weren't really paying attention to it. I was worried about Tom, and so was he.

Tom shut us out ever since the incident. I was worried sick, trying to get a hold of him but he would never answer. I mean, he was always secretive, but he never shut us out like this! I sighed, staring at the TV stand.

"You okay Edd?" Matt looked down at me, his eyes full of concern. He rarely looked at mirrors now that he had told me his secret, that he wasn't stupid at all, he just acted like it.

"Yeah, I'm just worried about Tom." I admitted, shifting closer to him. Matt nodded, muting the TV as the movie wasn't disk based. "I haven't been able to talk to Tom, and I know you haven't been able either. He just.. Shut us out. I'm worried."

Matt nodded, rubbing my head. "I'm sure Tom's okay. He'll come back to us someday." Just then, the doorbell rang. I looked up, hesitating a bit before jumping up walking to the door. Standing on my tippy-toes, I peered through the hole in the door.

And standing there was none other than Tom.

I swung the door open to face him. He was skinny, his hoodie not baggy enough to hide the ribs poking out from his skin. He wore no shoes, only socks, and his hair was unkempt and messy. There were bags under his eyes and his skin was pale. But even though he wore a depressing guise, a soft smile plastered his face and his cheeks were tinged with blush.

I stood there, frozen with shock as Matt stood up and slowly walked up behind me. Snapping back to reality, I rushed forward and pulled Tom into a fierce hug.

"Tom! Where have you been? Why did you shut us out? Are you okay?" Tom chuckled, gently pushing me off and raising his hands up near his face. His sleeves slid down a bit, and I noticed bandages peeking out from under them.

"Holy cookie in a pickle jar Edd, calm down, I'm okay." I nodded, a smile slowly beginning to form. Tom smiled back at me, something I hadn't seen in a long time.

The old Tom was back, and I was happy.

| 1816 words

| Okay, that just happened, um. I would put these as their own one shots, but most of the ones in here are 1000 words and over. These are below that mark, so I decided to just dump em' all here. Yep.

| I also found a story that I was working on in school and quickly finished it. I'm going to post it soon.

| 3408 words in total