Lily
True Colors
All socks lived the same way. All pink, purple, and yellow socks were considered girl socks. Blue, white, and green socks were all considered boy socks. There were no other genders and colors of socks. If another color of sock was found, then that sock wasn’t a real sock. All girl and boy socks got married and made more girl and boy socks. If none of these socks’ rules were followed, you were not considered a sock. Girl and boy socks stayed true to the gender given to them. If you did not do that, you weren’t a real sock. All girl socks must marry a boy sock and all boy socks must marry a girl sock. If you did not do that you, were considered not a true sock.
Once there was a white sock named Ryan. Ryan loved his blue and pink sock parents very much. He was technically a sock… except one thing. Ryan loved to play with pink powder, making him look like a pink sock. He also loved to wear his mother’s clothes and makeup. This was normal for a young sock...right?
Once his mother found out about her son’s love for makeup and jewelry, she bought him his own dresses and makeup. On the other foot, his father did not approve of Ryan’s opinions and actions and thought it was a phase that he should break. Unlike Ryan’s mother, his father burned his makeup and dresses and bought him more baseball caps and sports wear. Ryan’s father started scaring Ryan hoping it would help him break out of his “habit”.
But this wasn’t a “habit.” Ryan felt more comfortable in makeup and dresses than in baseball caps and sportswear. At school Ryan hung out with pink and purple socks more than blue and green socks because he understood the girl socks better than the boy socks. Ryan couldn’t take it anymore. He was always told by older and wiser socks, that something was wrong with him. What was wrong with him?
It was only his opinion, and his mother had said no opinion was wrong, but his father said his opinion was unnatural. His father threatened to disown him if he kept all of this up, but this was Ryan. Ryan was born this way. He felt as if he was born the wrong way as if he was born as the wrong color.
Then laundry day came. All boy socks went into one load and all the girl socks went into another load. Ryan snuck into the girl load, hiding from his father. After the boy sock load was finished, the girl sock load was washed. This wash did miracles to Ryan.
Ryan came out of the load more refreshed and happy. Ryan looked down at his body and a bright smile appeared on his face. Ryan was pink! Just like a girl sock.
Ryan immediately raced around, telling people to use female pronouns and to call her Dawn. Dawn jumped around with joy as she told her father the news. “Look! Dad! I’m a girl sock now!” Dawn said excitedly. “Now, I’m going to be true to my gender!” Dawn squealed. Dawn’s father shook his head in disappointment, “You are a white sock” he confirmed “and I will always see you as one, Ryan”. Dawn’s old name made her feel weak and unaccepted. “I had a white sock son. That’s my only child. I do not have a daughter” Dawn’s father said in a cold voice.
Unlike Dawn’s father, Dawn’s mother welcomed Dawn as a sock. Dawn did reach all the requirements to be an official sock. Dawn was pink like a girl sock, and she was true to her new gender identity. Dawn also liked boy socks and will most likely marry one, which is one of the requirements to be a true sock. So, there was nothing wrong with her.
At a young age, Dawn took the job as a motivational speaker. Socktopia was one of the first places she was giving a speech. “Pink, purple, and yellow socks. Blue, green, and White socks. I Have gone through a journey, finding what color I really was…” Dawn continued her speech. When Dawn was done, a small sock stepped forward. To society this sock wasn’t a real sock. “Hello,” the young sock greeted Dawn. “I’m Phoenix, a red sock”
Once there was a white sock named Ryan. Ryan loved his blue and pink sock parents very much. He was technically a sock… except one thing. Ryan loved to play with pink powder, making him look like a pink sock. He also loved to wear his mother’s clothes and makeup. This was normal for a young sock...right?
Once his mother found out about her son’s love for makeup and jewelry, she bought him his own dresses and makeup. On the other foot, his father did not approve of Ryan’s opinions and actions and thought it was a phase that he should break. Unlike Ryan’s mother, his father burned his makeup and dresses and bought him more baseball caps and sports wear. Ryan’s father started scaring Ryan hoping it would help him break out of his “habit”.
But this wasn’t a “habit.” Ryan felt more comfortable in makeup and dresses than in baseball caps and sportswear. At school Ryan hung out with pink and purple socks more than blue and green socks because he understood the girl socks better than the boy socks. Ryan couldn’t take it anymore. He was always told by older and wiser socks, that something was wrong with him. What was wrong with him?
It was only his opinion, and his mother had said no opinion was wrong, but his father said his opinion was unnatural. His father threatened to disown him if he kept all of this up, but this was Ryan. Ryan was born this way. He felt as if he was born the wrong way as if he was born as the wrong color.
Then laundry day came. All boy socks went into one load and all the girl socks went into another load. Ryan snuck into the girl load, hiding from his father. After the boy sock load was finished, the girl sock load was washed. This wash did miracles to Ryan.
Ryan came out of the load more refreshed and happy. Ryan looked down at his body and a bright smile appeared on his face. Ryan was pink! Just like a girl sock.
Ryan immediately raced around, telling people to use female pronouns and to call her Dawn. Dawn jumped around with joy as she told her father the news. “Look! Dad! I’m a girl sock now!” Dawn said excitedly. “Now, I’m going to be true to my gender!” Dawn squealed. Dawn’s father shook his head in disappointment, “You are a white sock” he confirmed “and I will always see you as one, Ryan”. Dawn’s old name made her feel weak and unaccepted. “I had a white sock son. That’s my only child. I do not have a daughter” Dawn’s father said in a cold voice.
Unlike Dawn’s father, Dawn’s mother welcomed Dawn as a sock. Dawn did reach all the requirements to be an official sock. Dawn was pink like a girl sock, and she was true to her new gender identity. Dawn also liked boy socks and will most likely marry one, which is one of the requirements to be a true sock. So, there was nothing wrong with her.
At a young age, Dawn took the job as a motivational speaker. Socktopia was one of the first places she was giving a speech. “Pink, purple, and yellow socks. Blue, green, and White socks. I Have gone through a journey, finding what color I really was…” Dawn continued her speech. When Dawn was done, a small sock stepped forward. To society this sock wasn’t a real sock. “Hello,” the young sock greeted Dawn. “I’m Phoenix, a red sock”
Learned Your Lesson?
Running. Chasing. Fleeting. A small raven black haired boy sprinted away from a bakery like a deer who had heard a gunshot. He had light brown baggy pants that were only staying on him because of two suspenders that fell over his shoulders. He was also wearing a flowing white button up shirt and no shoes. He looked about 12 and he had a small pastry in his hand. A mad pollen blonde man in an apron chased after him like a lion ready to pounce. His eyes were storming mad and the man was filled with frustration and anger. The boy suddenly stopped in his tracks, paralyzed by shock and then quickly crumbled to the ground. The older man creeped up behind the unconscious boy and retrieved his shoe that he had thrown at him. Instead of doing the responsible thing and taking the boy to the hospital, he did something way worse. The shoe pounded at the boy's chest multiple times. The boy crunched up in a small ball, in pain, knowing he could not do anything about the baker’s choices. There was a quick sob when the old man held the shoe up high, deciding what to do. The pounding then continued, but on the boy's head. Blood started to drip from his eyeballs like a river and then more of his red liquids flowed out of his ears and mouth. The boy tried to scream, but he was so shocked and was in great pain that his mouth seemed to have stopped working. The boy couldn’t take it anymore and the booming in his chest stopped for good. The tiny pastry fell out of the small deathly pale boy’s hand and rolled onto the floor. The man took back his pastry, “Shows people not to steal from my store,” he spat as he walked away from the dead body.
One Wrong Step
The beating in the man’s heart got faster with each stride. It was dark as night outside and the air smelled of old socks. The man had dirt brown hair and chocolate brown eyes. He was wearing a plain blue t-shirt and jeans which allowed him to run. A pale man in a black cloak had a silver knife in his unclean hand. The bright moon reflected off of the knife, showing a red liquid dripping off of it. The man in black stood behind the running man holding up his knife, suspiciously. The man in black’s face wasn’t visible to the human eye. The brown haired man started to breath heavily as he slowed down. He looked back at the figure to see if it was still following him. He saw that the figure was slowly teleporting small distances towards the man. The man’s heart beated so loudly that the man couldn’t hear anything anymore. His legs seemed to have stopped working as he fell to the ground. The man tried to scream for help, but his voice seemed to have stopped working. He looked back to see if the figure was still following. It wasn’t there. The man sighed in relief as he turned back around. As he did so, he saw the figure in front of him. Nothing of the figure was visible other than the bony fingers of a skeleton coming out of the black sleeves of the cloak. The mysterious man held his knife up high and drove it into the man’s body. Blood, guts, veins, and organs squirted out of the hole in the man’s stomach as the figure stabbed him multiple times in the chest. The figure kneeled down beside the body as a loud clink was heard near the dying man’s body. The figure hovered his hand over the man’s eyes. His hand dug into his eye socket and pulled out the left eye. Blood flowed out of the man’s empty socket which fell into his mouth. The man opened his mouth to scream, but instead of a scream, the man made a small squeak as he choked on his own blood. The man’s heart had many holes in it from the knife and it started to slowly fail on its owner. Did the figure stop? of course not! The figure ripped the man’s pale arms off. The man wanted to give up now. He wanted to die. Blood spilled out of his arms, followed by some ruined veins. The man started to beg for mercy as his body started to tremble intensely. His other arm was violently ripped out and the man had no power, but to accept his fate. The figure finally teleported away, leaving the man in a pool of his own blood. “Help” The man begged in the loudest voice he could muster as he finally came into the light.
Love is Dead
This is a story about love. Love that lasted for a few minutes. “Do you like it?” a young man with marigold yellow hair asked. “I love it,” a beautiful female with bold blue hair whispered softly as she gracefully stepped onto the sand. The pretty girl was wearing a white dress with flowers on it. The dress came down to about her knees. It was about sundown and many pastel colors spread across the sky like paint. Pinks, oranges, light blues, purples, golds were smeared across the sky, illuminating anything in a mystical and beautiful color. The young blonde man was wearing a simple grey shirt and nice shorts that he bought yesterday for this special occasion. The pale girl with eye popping blue hair smiled sweetly as she walked across the sand. She pulled the young boy with her, giggling softly. “I love you so much,” she whispered softly to him. That was it. The perfect time. The girl gasped in surprise as the boy kneeled down. “Genevieve,” he started, “I couldn't think of a life without you. You are my everything. My one and only. You’ve been with me from the start…” He said as he remembered when they were just kids, chasing each other around because they thought the opposite gender had cooties. With one swift move, the boy pulled out a ring made out of pure silver with a nice sized sparkling gem in the middle. He held it up, just below his face, “So, I want to experience this life with you. I want to grow old with you and be there for you.” He took a deep breath, “So Genevieve Giselle Hutson, will you marry me?” Genevieve blushed a bright red, which matched the colors of the sky. Her heart was racing with joy and happiness. She felt like the happiest girl in the world. How could this day ever get better? “Ye-” she started to say excitedly as she heard a loud booming noise “What in the?” she asked as she looked to the boy for answers, but the boy couldn't answer. The young man’s heart boomed in panic as he slumped to the ground, unable to move. His breathing got shallow as he clutched his chest in pain. He moved his hand to show his Love a small bloody hole in his chest. His hand was smeared with blood as his whole body was shaking with confusion and fright. “G-Gen” his voice got very quiet “I love you,” were the last words he spoke. The young man gave up. Genevieve crumbled down in a ball next to him. “Oh,” she sobbed uncontrollably. “I wanted a life with you-” she choked on her words. The sky seemed to loose its color and the world seemed to lose its hope. She shook with fear over her fiance's pale body. “I never wanted to leave your side.” Tears were racing down her face like a race car. “Oh, Elliot,” she cried, choking on her words. It seemed like there was nothing for her to live for. Elliot meant everything to her and she could still remember his voice, as sweet as honey, as he asked her to marry him. Her heart felt as if it fell into an endless hole of nothingness and that it would never be fetched out. Her whole body hurt with feelings and memories as she held the love of her life in her arms. Genevieve softly kissed the young boy’s forehead. She continued to cry until she felt a deadly cold hand on her shoulder. The hand seemed bony like a skeleton and made a shiver go through the girl’s spine. Genevieve sniffled the tears out of her eyes to gather courage to turn around. Then she turned around and what she saw made her shriek an ear piercing scream.
The Devil's Spell
This is a tale of a fishy situation. what if all my stories were connected in a way? well this is the story of that connection. A man in a black cloak walks into a big abandoned warehouse. He now rarely showed his face, but you can tell that he was chewing something. The cloak he was wearing was torn at the bottom and was drenched in crimson colored blood. The man teleported a short distance to a trashcan nearby. He leaned over the steel trash can and spit out what was his gum. knowing that the man was now alone he took off the hood of his dark cloak. his face was a pale peach color, his eyes were sapphire blue, and he had a pointy nose and thin lips. His hands were deadly pale and skinny and were as cold as a freezer. “Ugh, that boy was too in love. I'm glad I shot him before his pathetic girlfriend said yes,” he murmured to himself a he takes out a medium sized box out of his cloak. The box was obviously outlined in gold and the rest of the box was made out of satin that was blood red. He carefully opened the top of the box. Inside the box was something so important to any human being, so important that if you lost it you will die a quick death. A Heart filled with love. The mysterious man set the heart in another box with more hearts. The heart filled with innocents and a heart filled with fear. Now he had all the hearts he needed to start the spell. He walked over to a drawer that seemed to be vintage. he opened the drawer to find a pack of gum in it. see, this gum isn't any type of gum. This gum is radioactive gum. It gave a normal human being a limited amount of power as long as they chew the gum. This gum in particular gave the power of teleportation and the power to embody any dead creature. This gum let the man embody the baker, which lead him taking the heart of the innocence. The mysterious man took a piece of that gum and popped it into his mouth and he chewed it slowly, smiling devilishly. He walked back to the box of hearts and he spread out the hearts in a triangular shape around him. The man murdered chant as the triangle started to glow a bright crimson red. lighting and thunder attacked the sky as the sky grew the same color as the triangle. The man continued to chant the words in Greek as storm clouds started hurling themselves to the warehouse. Then all stopped. The man in the cloak opened his eyes to see a figure in front of him. The figure had big pointy horns and red shiny skin. his eyes were as black as night, but you could see a dancing fire in them. The figure held a red pitchfork high above his head “James!” he yelled in a godly voice “I see that you seek power and power you shall have”