"Omg! Die backpacker die we vanmiddag zagen, zit hier in de soos."

Door Dead Pixel op dinsdag 21 juli 2015 21:23 - Reageren is niet meer mogelijk
Categorie: Juweeltjes, Views: 6.588

Wederom was het weer zo ver: de jaarlijkse spelweek, op touw gezet door de lokale jeugdsoos, moest weer beginnen. Echter gaan we het daar nu niet in het bijzonder over hebben, dat doen we later in een ander artikel. De titel is namelijk een Whatsappberichtje dat ik heb mogen ontvangen van een goede vriend. Want toen wij op den allereerste dag terug naar huis liepen van het driedaagse festijn, zagen we een goed bepakte backpacker lopen. Nadat we het er even kort over hadden, dachten we beiden er niet meer zo veel over na. Maar wat zou deze backpacker een indruk gaan maken op de vaste- en tijdelijke lopers bij de jeugdsoos.

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Letters To My Sister - The Shards She Left deel 2

Door Dead Pixel op zondag 19 juli 2015 16:33 - Reacties (4)
Categorie: Korte verhalen, Views: 3.558

Letters To My Sister

Marks of The Devil

To my dearest sister,

My prison counselor told to amend with the past. I’m not sure how to amend with you, because you’re off to a better place now. I know what he did to you, even if you looked happy and full of life. I always knew. But I couldn’t do just anything, because of what he did to you, he did to me as well. You loved playing sports until… you know… mother. Father changed, we all changed, and not for the better. Your dreams of playing soccer were shattered. You tried, but quit soon after because the marks became visible. One day, the wounds were so severe that they started to bleed again during your practice. Thirteen dark red stripes started to appear on your back, the blood was oozing through the fabric of your shirt. You were so focused on playing the game and hiding the pain that you didn’t even noticed it was bleeding. Luckily for you, Gene was there to snap you out of it and to get you out of practice. I know he did it... I wish I could have done something, but I was too ashamed at the time that you were even my sister. But now, I am sorry.



About Mother, I Don’t Blame You, I Think

Hey sis,

I would almost say “hey, how are you?” But I can’t. My eyes are stapled wide open, I’m restless and the medication that hey’ve given me is failing. My mind is racing a thousand miles a second, my hands are twitching to beats of my heart. I’ve been thinking about mother lately. Do you remember the story she told about people being like gardens? I do. It goes like this: people are like flowers. Flowers want to blossom, but weeds overpower everything. And flowers learn to tolerate weeds. But if they can’t, the weeds need to be pulled to save the garden. Who decides what is a weed, and what not? I think I did. If mother didn’t have to pick you up, she would still be alive.


Architects Go To Heaven Too


For what I have done, I am the architect of your last breath, the creator of your only protection, to die was your destiny. To keep you safe from the wrath that was happening to you, I had to kill you. And for that I am not sorry, I am, in fact, delighted. My only regret is that I was not able to purge father out of his living misery. I asked God for a favor, and my prayers have been answered. I hope to see you soon, Emma.

Much love,



Emma - The Shards She Left deel 1

Door Dead Pixel op donderdag 9 juli 2015 14:28 - Reacties (6)
Categorie: Korte verhalen, Views: 4.817


†††††The clock went slower with every passing second, the voices of my classmates were morphed and soft like I had earmuffs on. I had zero attention for the lecture, and I was rather glad when the bell finally rang. I walked down the hallway after class when suddenly a large thump sent me crashing down to the ground.

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