scared person - quotes and descriptions to inspire creative writing
It is as if she has retreated inside of herself; instead of being here with me, she's watching in the same way she watches television. It's as if the sounds are arriving in her brain from far, far away and my touch is somehow disconnected. And so I tell her over and over that I'm really here, that I'll always be here. I tell her softly yet at a volume that reaches inside and soothes that which ran and hid. It takes time for the soul to reemerge, to seek the sunlight instead of the shade, but there is no other way - patient love, time, welcoming the bond that develops, keeping it steady and real.
Her brain had shut down. She was clammy and there was the glisten of a cold sweat. Her eyes were as wide as if someone was coming to deliver the fatal blow. Yet what she saw, no-one else could see. Trapped in her own psychosis, a living nightmare for one, tailor made by her own brain to play on her deepest fears.
Her watery eyes enlarged and the hairs on the nape of her neck bristled. A gaggle of goose pimples laminated her frigid, naked skin. Slow and deliberate, the door handle turned. She tried to scream, but the inside of her mouth lacked any moisture and a croak was all that issued from her gape. Finally, the door creaked open and...
There was nothing worse than making my brother scared. When scared he lost all rationality and became a monster that would do anything to survive. His thinking was so distorted. If you were angry with him for borrowing you car without asking he would react as if you were attacking him with a knife. All the adrenaline in his system made him so strong, like he had super human muscles. Even being taller and fitter that him gave me no advantage. It was hard for me to be around him but I felt sorry for him and still do. His world is totally black and white for him, everything is either totally fine or lethal threat, to him there are only those two categories. He's like a firework, either safe and in it's box, or exploding, and the fuse is doused in kerosene 24/7.
Jackson was so scared. He knew it was dumb to be scared, but he couldn't help it. Problem was that he always over thought every damn thing. The way I see it, I study, do my best and whatever will be will be. My old man never passed an exam ever and he built his own construction company. Jackson thinks about failing, then he worries about what he will do when he can't be whatever fancy career is the flavour of the month, then he imagines no girls wanting him, loneliness, parental rejection, homelessness and no friends. By the time he's imagined all that I'm surprised he's not in the fetal position in the corner. I'm taking him surfing this weekend, that boy's gotta relax, live in the moment, suck up the sunshine and surf.
I breathed in and out but air wouldn't enter my lungs. Starved for air, my heart raced at tremendous speeds, and my lungs shallowly rose and fell in time. I stood there for what felt like an eternity but was actually only five minutes. Satisfaction of security was nothing but a distant memory , and an invisible force crushed me from every possible direction. Each second submerged in fear made a permanent mark on my heart, and a vivid imagination made me wander whether it was just my mind playing tricks or reality.
There was a hooded person in the shadows. Though he seemed to be making an effort to hide his head shook side to side, as there was so much tension in him it had to be released, like kettle letting out steam. At first Autumn assumed the person to be angry and crossed the street, her high heels clicking on the tarmac. But when she turned to take another look she realized that "he" was a "she" and her black skin had taken on such an ashen hue she was greyish under the streetlights. Her eyes were locked still, fixed right back on Autumn, though her head kept moving and her teeth sank more deeply into her lower lip than could be comfortable.
Opposite Rainer was a girl of sixteen, maybe less. On seeing him she pulled a book from her bag and stared at it, never once turning the page. He averted his gaze, though still saw her in his peripheral vision. Her limbs trembled in a way that had nothing to do with the motion of the subway train. There was a noise of paper tearing as she gripped her novel too hard and her eyes became wet the way a child's do before tears come. Rainer picked his bag up and moved to the seat furthest away from her. He rolled his eyes to the vibrating roof, he'd be the most likely person down here to save her ass if anything happened, but she wasn't to know.
Tilly expected the bus to have a sleeper or two on it and it did, both of them nodding and drooling. The person at the back was different though, his eyes were as wide open as if newly awoken with an extremely loud noise. He didn't casually look her way and then pretend he hadn't like everyone else, he watched her as if missing one vital detail could mean the end of his life. Other than his hands he was utterly still, his constantly swept over one another as if being washed in an invisible stream. She turned and walked back down the bus, preferring to stand near the driver than take a seat.
Behind the tree was a girl so close to the gnarled bark that she almost blended in. Her hair was the colour of the forest floor shortly after the dawn. She stood there, her eyes fixed on the road, breathing faster than a resting person should. The wind, mild that it was, caught her hair and sage dress, blowing them in toward the trees behind. This was no game of hide and seek, she was rigid, statue-like. River took another step, not intending to disturb her but she turned her head toward him, eyes more wild than a deer caught in the crosshairs. She took a step backward, bare feet over the frosted leaves, one hand raised as if she thought he might charge he down if she didn't. Her head shook side to side almost too slight to notice, part tremble and part deliberate. Then all at once her lip buckled upward and tears began...