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penelope-teal · 3 years
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short story: No Body, No Crime
“I am not mad.”
Elissa stared into her trembling reflection, feeling the words drain another drop of her certainty. After all, it was well known that if you believed everybody around you to be insane, then you are the problem. She groaned and fell back onto the bed, letting the heavy silver-backed hand mirror fall onto the plush duvet. It was an heirloom, passed down the maternal line, and had an inscription of every woman’s initials, some professionally cursive, some scratched in with a needle or the point of a knife.
There was a timid knock on the door, “Ma’am, it’s time to dress.”
Elissa swallowed and shut her eyes, trying to keep out the terrible knowledge of what would happen next. The servant girl entered, gently drawing Elissa to stand, and began stripping her down.
“Look, Ma’am. You’re beautiful.”
Elissa tried to smile but it wouldn’t reach her eyes. She was swathed in layers of white tulle and netting, a thick silk ribbon the colour of cherry juice around her waist and throat. Tied up. Pearls hung from her ears, another heirloom, and adorned her wrist.
“What a perfect bride.” Her father said wistfully, standing in the doorway. It was the same line he said every time. The same line he’d said on her real wedding day when she was seventeen and too desperately in love to see the trap clawing at her ankle.
He walked her down the aisle of the village hall, everyone gasping at her beauty. She looked forwards defiantly, feeling that trap tearing into her skin. Father just gave her a sharp elbow, the proud smile never wavering from his face, and she looked down obediently, clenching her teeth at the demureness shouting through every bone in her body.
“We are gathered here today to wi’ness the union of these two peoples
”
The pastor’s voice droned on, reverent and thickly accented. He drew out his vowels and savoured the ‘s’ sounds, completing forfeiting ‘t’ whenever possible. She hated that voice. That accent. Her accent.
Strong, slim hands lifted her veil, and for the first time she was permitted to look up, up into a pair of cruel blue eyes. Beautiful eyes. Bright like the glimmer of light on steel.
Mallory – although of course that wasn’t his real name – leaned down and pressed his cruel beautiful lips to her own unyielding ones. That’s two defiance’s. They would not let this slide.
The picture-perfect couple faced their sly, adoring neighbours, faced the thunderous applause, the weeping. Elissa could almost believe it was her wedding day.
Mallory led her back down the aisle, out the door, down the street, turned left, then right, then down the lane, then into her home, right into the lounge.
Crack.
The blow made her ears ring, but she gritted her teeth, knowing any cry of pain would just make it worse.
She followed him, mute and seething, into the dining room, where her father and step-mother stood, faces fixed like wax dolls. The next door neighbours, Uncle Erik and Auntie Pamela, stood on the opposite side of the table, with the same painted expression.
Mallory pulled a chair out as if he were a gentleman, and sat opposite her, head of the table. Conversation washed over her, pressing down like she was lying on the ocean floor, threatening to crush her skull. Her knuckles stuck out starkly as she clung to the special-occasion cutlery. That trap was pressing on her arteries.
Auntie Pamela glanced at her niece. “Lissa, doll, are you alrigh’?”
She shattered.
Standing up with a scream, Elissa hurled her dinner knife at Mallory’s head. It missed. All the practicing had gone to waste then.
The masks dropped. Mallory stood with a snarl, and grabbed his wife by the elbow, hauling her down to the basement. She screamed herself hoarse while her family looked on with disgust, ashamed of how she tainted their blood. How they all did; her, mummy, gran. It was hereditary, they said, in the maternal line. Mad. The lot of them. Have to be controlled by the fathers. Have to be managed.
Elissa screwed her eyes shut, trying to pull herself back up the stairs, but Mallory was so much stronger. Besides, she was weak. Not allowed out. In case she ran.
“Look.” Her husband held her in front of a full length mirror, shaking her by the shoulders. “Lissa look at yourself!”
Creased dress, broken-in shoes, a slight stain on the edge of her ribbon, a purple bruise on her cheekbone, steady mahogany brown eyes, long clean hair.
“Lissa, please.” Mallory’s voice broke, as if he really cared about her, as if he were really her husband.
“I am not mad.” She whispered. The first words she’d said all day. She stood on his foot and threw her head back, forcing him to let go of her with a snarl. Whirling, she flicked off her heeled slipper, and held it up.
His face twisted, coming apart at the seams. “You will stop this nonsense once and for all.”
It would have been better if he shouted, but just like her real husband, the real Mallory, he never did. His voice, Mallory’s voice, was low and deep. It didn’t promise violence. It promised death.
“You are not my husband!” Her voice was shrill. Unbelievable. She couldn’t go through it again, not another year, another hell, another wedding day, forced to remember that her sweetheart was gone.
Mallory-who-wasn’t-Mallory pulled at his hair, groaning, “Who am I then Liss?”
Everything began shaking. She needed OUT. But they watched too well. There was no escape, they’d learnt to well after mummy and the pond, gran and the light fixture.
With a snarl of impatience, Mallory grabbed her again, promising Erik they’d be ready for the photo, they were just on the way up.
She couldn’t stop shaking.
Mallory’s arm was a band of cold iron. She looked at him as they posed.
“Murderer.” she whispered.
He smirked.
“Prove it.”
  ~ This was inspired by no body, no crime by Taylor Swift (feat. HAIM). The story is a bit different but I loved the idea of small in the middle of nowhere towns having their own methods of justice, their own conspiracies.
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penelope-teal · 3 years
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I’m so sick of wishing on stars,
praying to the heavens,
pouring my heart out to an empty sky
and hoping, ever so tightly,
that I’ll feel better next time.
This will be the last time.
Of course, it never is. Broken
words and broken thoughts.
Me. I am broken. To bits.
Pottery and silk and everything easily ruined,
water-stained on a black night.
Teardrop lacquer. Saccharine smile.
This never ending tunnel of hope might
only sharpen the axe...
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penelope-teal · 3 years
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Playlist: The Year That Didn’t Exist.
The End - Best Coast
Appcalypse - Cigarettes After Sex
i’ll die anyway. - girl in red
Homemade Dynamite - Lorde
Piledriver Waltz - Alex Turner
Secondhand Trash - Lady Pills
Paradise - The Neighbourhood
British Bombs - Declan McKenna
You Broke My Heart Again - Teqkoi, Aiko
Bottom - McCafferty
Love It If We Made It - The 1975
Ramblings Of A Lunatic - Bears In Trees
Vixen - Destroy Boys
Last Days - Tankus the Henge
Daylight - 5 Seconds of Summer
Fifteen Minutes - Mike Krol
Something In The Air - Winnetka Bowling League
Kiss With A Fist
hoax - Taylor Swift
The End. - My Chemical Romance
This is a playlist I created for my ongoing novel, hopefully it sums up the vibe I’m going for. Check it out on wattpad! Just click the link here:
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penelope-teal · 3 years
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Don’t Drink From the Brook.
Brown scrappy boots take me over the loam,
and I meander through the ash,
and try not to think of home.
But it’s there. That thought.
In the reflection of the stream,
in my eyes, a haunting Neverland,
an inescapeable dream.
Crystal drops tinkle in sunny rays,
and I know stars glimmer very far away,
but it calls, a siren, wending
through my brain, giving me every damned reason not to stay.
Perhaps it will hurt, no it won’t, just
a sip, a kiss, light poison, don’t
do as it says.
Stop doubting. Fighting. Arguing.
The bluebell laughs at me.
I’ll die inside and live another day.
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penelope-teal · 3 years
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The Year That Didn’t Exist
by Penelope Teal
What if a year was just erased from history?
Everything about it hidden or destroyed, just taken away, to hide the truth, help rewrite the narrative.
Briar, Jada, Ev, Teddy, Kurt, and Ty try to cope with the realities of a world wide pandemic, while living knowing nothing they do will be remembered for an entire year. Riddled with death and disease, they make their haven in the woods, trying to stay sane in an insane world.
~ This is my new novel, currently available on Wattpad. The first three chapters are up and there will be updates every Friday. It would be amazing of you could check it out, comment, and even vote if you like x
https://my.w.tt/jQ8Z7wxT5ab
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penelope-teal · 4 years
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Navy
Elegant night-time tear drops
And rustles of midnight silk
The depth of an ocean whirlpool
A knife buried to its hilt
Come, worship me darling
Bask in sophistication
I am a dark beauty
A mysterious, cold haven
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penelope-teal · 4 years
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Apocolypse
If the world imploded
and we drowned in fire,
would you run back to my arms?
Would you salvage the flesh of my burnt out heart?
If our house collapsed
and seawater burnt our throats,
would you run back to my bed?
Would you find the cracked pictures next to my head?
I’ll stare at dying stars
and wish for the apocolypse...
so when you think of me,
as the world crumbles to havoc,
you will finally see
the pain,
the ruined state,
the soul you delightfully broke.
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penelope-teal · 4 years
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I’ve spent my life practicing
a perfect picture of bland,
constructing every tear and scar
into a smile. I watch you.
Bantering with her; insufferable,
smarmy, laughing til your stomach hurts.
She is both haunting and irresistable.
A drug sustaining my life, poison
killing me softly,
crumbling my roots to ash.
You are in love with her. My funhouse mirror.
So I will bite the pain, swallow my screams, I will carry on.
How can I not when all is said and done,
I’ve spent my life practicing.
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penelope-teal · 4 years
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Hey guys,
I recently published a small ongoing collection of poetry + prose to Wattpad.
It’s called Don’t drink from the brook and it would be really cool if you could check it out! x
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penelope-teal · 4 years
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Deep out in the outwoods
Where green things grow and roam
A scarlet fox and a little white flutterby
Call the trees home
They all rely on this fragile plane
A balance of hunter, prey, and leaf
It is a beauty we admire, cherish, adore
But all humans can bring is grief, pain, and fire
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penelope-teal · 4 years
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let me rebuild you with red and blue string
tie your heart in a lovers knot
and cover your corpse with someone else’s skin
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penelope-teal · 4 years
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A Letter to the 20th Century Generation.
A housing crisis
And student debt
Falling grades
And terroist threats
Media saturation
And fake news
Equality protests
Contradicting your views
A world on fire!
(a world gone mad)
A world where you wasted
All we had
Too much spare time
And not enough jobs
Not enough obedience
And too many swots
Police brutality
And sexual assault
Criminal leaders
And a progression halt
When will you realise
We are exactly the same as everyone before
And no matter how much you blame technology
It will not hide your flaws
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penelope-teal · 4 years
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At the deep bottom
Of an extra ordinary street
A castle stood
With the world at its feet
It’s walls were pristine
But each night they shook
They howled and grieved
And bemoaned what the world had took
Eventually it ceased
Without a word being said
But if you look inside the entryway
The carpets bleed red
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penelope-teal · 4 years
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Stage Fright
Fog thicker than tears envelops me,
and I cannot see the stars,
feel the ground,
hear my traitorous heart.
Thunder claps beyond the curtain;
d-d-deep breaths now,
look into the eye of the storm.
Stand. Speak. Bow.
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penelope-teal · 4 years
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Philia
Perhaps I should be scared.
It would be so very easy for you
to drain my lifeblood, shatter me,
snap my heart into two.
But you did not balk
when you saw every inch of me.
This mirror is deeper, truer,
as vast and unyielding as the sea.
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penelope-teal · 4 years
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Tag ten followers you would like to get to know.
Thank you @trashfirepoet x
Name: Penelope/Penny
Time: 19:31
Hogwarts house: Gryffindor
Cats or dogs: Cats
Favourite animal: Orca
Dream job: Writing in some form
Why I made this blog: I wanted somewhere to post my poetry and discover other people with similar passions
Reason for url: kind of self explanatory tbh
Please don’t feel pressured into doing this just because I tagged you 😂 @trashfirepoet @minha02 @blanketforts-and-thoughts @perspicacity101 @moonpoetrycollection @the-moo-moo-milkshake-collective @nekoannie-chan @on-mi-lonesome @virgopoetry22 @rearviewphilosophy
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penelope-teal · 4 years
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Tumblr notifications give off an opposite and equal energy to duolingo.
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