Prompt: Bearing Your Heart to Someone

Prompt Bearing Your Heart to Someone

Cyberpunk style

City trash

Singer, song, everything

To crowd that doesn’t care

“Hey, Hey, everyone”

Probably spent more time editing this one than I should have but I really like the direction  I took with it so I’m alright with that! When your writing(or at least editing) take the time to picture what your writing as a panel in a comic. What does it look like? Take your time to describe what you see and plan out the emotion you want to pull out of the reader. Hope you enjoy this prompt and as always try it yourself! Think about a theme or story type you enjoy and take a deeper look into what makes it work and use that as a prompt. Till next time, Ransom.

Bandaged feet pass over vomit and limp forms a short figure makes its way through the bar. Stuttering like a shadow cast by a ceiling fan she slips around the hired guns, slug throwers strapped to their hips.

A slight murmur creeps among the patrons a few bookies pretend to count their data chips. Keeping an eye on the oddity making its way to the stage. On her path of exile, her death march, sweat pours off the girl. Her legs seem to ache more than usual. With a hobble in her step she wants to run as fast as she can back into the smog and neon of the slums. She clings to the one thing keeping her here. She holds it to her chest, a bent nail keeping the pages together.

Her bandaged feet make it up to the stage, the squeak of the bartender’s rag echoing through the pub, an orc takes a spit of mucus.

The girl, no more than ten, flinches. The orcs and hired guns take their bets, looking back over to the elven bartender. Receiving a shrug as the human girl takes the mic from the stand the first and only exchange of credits takes place. The girl holds the papers in the crook of her elbow the creek of her breath echoing off the amps.  In the foreground someone tunes the speakers. Her breath carries clearly across the room.

She raises her voice in song. Her voice couldn’t be described as grating but it wasn’t beautiful. Some thought it resembled the slums they called home. With a bit of scratch she sings the first line.

“Hey, hey, everyone, didn’t someone say the world is great?”

From the collapsing of her windpipe with each word to the jittering of her wide blue eyes she reeked of an emotion rarely seen in the slums.

Only the drunks cackle.

“Hey, hey, hey everyone, isn’t the world great?” the heart of the slum dwellers sink into their stomach, “Isn’t life worth living?” the drunks began to sober with the shaking timber of her voice.

“Hey, hey, hey everyone, didn’t I see someone die last night?” The orcs shift in their seats. The girl takes a deep breath flipping over a page.

“Hey, hey, hey everyone, Is life worth living? I couldn’t say, I haven’t begun yet,” her voice went from song to a shaky speaking voice. The bartender’s rag rings across the room.

“Hey, hey, hey everyone,” she looks over the crowd mimicking the words with her lips. They catch on, voices husky with beer and violence take up her words.

She smile’s the pain in her legs starting to overtake her, sweat pouring down her cheeks. So scary she thinks as their voices bombard her, the vibrations shaking her with the thundering of her heart. She panics as she thumbs over the paper, a few lines mark the last page.

“Hey, hey, hey everyone.”

The rabble thunder it back, the girl’s mouth opens a dry almost inaudible voice is carried by the mike, opening and closing her mouth she etches out the lyrics with a scratchy song, her voice falling like a hammer on the crowd.

“Hey, hey, hey everyone, Is it wrong to die?”  The girl steps down from the stage, dragging her uneasy legs off the stage. She receives a credit stick from the bartender and with a look back she climbs into a bar stool the bartender pushing a plate of bread scrapes across the counter. The bartender’s eyes look across the meek crowd the squeak of her rag on an empty mug looming over them.

“Got more balls than the lot of you,” she says sliding the mug into its home under the counter. Among the quite of the bar a voice rises above the blanket of unease, a fist slamming into a table, “Hey, hey, hey everyone!”  A heart felt cry to struggle against the weight that shackled their hearts.