Iris had always held her emotions close to her, ever since she was a little girl, after her father had died. "Brush it off, get back up," he had always said. "Just keep going." So that is what Iris did. She kept going. She brushed it off and got back up. Then he died. She took his remarks more seriously than ever, shutting herself out, locking the door to her heart. A lock no one could ever break. Iris was now twenty-three. She left her bags at the door, kicking off the pinching heels she wore. Iris opened the cabinet where she kept the wine, and brought out her finest, Château d'Yquem. How she had gotten her hands on it... A little seduction was the trick. Iris swirled the bit of wine in her cup, being careful not to swish it out. She took a deep sip, feeling the cool, sweetness, then the bitter, sharp, tang that followed. **Iris barely had a second time to grab the counter beside her before the glass of wine in her hand slipped out and crashed into the tile floor. For a minute, just one minute, she felt a wisp of relief. But those sixty seconds were nothing, replaced by a swelling of emotions in her stomach. A burst of questions popped in her. What did any of this mean? Her eyes started to feel heavy. A tear slid down her cheek and it dripped onto the ground beneath her. Crying must have been sadness. That was an unusual emotion for a girl like her. Iris's gaze immediately swept down to the shards lying on the tiles of her apartment's bathroom. She had spent many days in here, questioning new information. Sulking had not been common for her until just a moment ago. No, crying. No- Sadness. The feeling of pain in the pit of her stomach. But there was only one question for this: What had triggered it?** Iris stood, feeling the pinch of glass in her feet, but she didn't bother to check. She ran throughout her house, searching, searching... Iris found the picture. Her father and young Iris, holding hands at the beach. She traced her fingers over her father's young face. The smile both adorned. Her mother was the one taking the picture, you could tell by the peach-color in the corner of the photo. Instead of smiling like any normal adult would when they remembered memories, Iris threw the photo against the wall, the frame crumbling, the picture weighted to the floor with glass. "I took your words, Father, and they made me the worst person on Earth," Iris spat, the lights flickering like the sanity within her. "And now I'm going to take my own. Live by your words." Thank you for letting me participate! It's not that good :/ It's really short and not that much of a story, but I had no ideas. I was thinking of twisting it into a romance-ish thing and then I was like... But it's Scratch. So I didn't want this to escalate into something to YA, y' know? I do enjoy writing and reading and I took this on as a challenge :3 I've never really written by someone else's writing except for a group story I did with some friends.
It's just the thumbnail, the writing is in the instructions. The part with the "**" is the part Hype wrote, all the other is my own. And do live by your own words, but not just your own. You need someone else in your life ;)
