Kristina Brule
Bio
I have loved writing since I can remember. I used to write songs and poems all the time growing up. I have two poetry books and one fiction book published. Every little thing I write has pecies inside of me that show who I am
Stories (23/0)
Knight vs Dragon
“You don’t get it do you? All those times you lied to me, all the times you hit me, it built up to this. You deserve this. No one will be sad you’re gone. They all know that you are as big of a loser as you pretend not to be. It’s hard to miss the scent of the alcohol on your tongue, even your clothing. Sometimes even the scent of my blood lingers on you. I could make this fast and get it over with, but no, you don’t deserve that. This knife and you will be best friends while I take my time and savor this sweet revenge of mine.Stop moving, you're going to make me madder. Listen. No ones looking for you, no ones coming here, stop fighting. It took me a long time to find this courage so I will keep it for as long as I can. First I will start with your hands, the hands you used to reel me in then cast me out. One finger at a time. One, and two.Oh no you don’t get to leave this party early! You’re going to miss the fun part if you pass out silly! I have so much planned for us. You always said I wasn’t fun and I was too bland. What's the matter? you don’t like spontaneous and fun me? well Let me tell you a story of a young girl who lost her will to be fun. There's a twist to it though, While I tell you it, I'll carve it into your skin as well, so if they find you, they will also know it. Now, now, stop squirming, it’ll be ok. You can yell all you want. Hunny the neighbors are used to it, no one will come. Just shut up and listen. The more you move the more it will hurt, now don’t mess up my picture.”
By Kristina Brule2 months ago in Fiction
My Love Letter To You
Sometimes I think back on my first love. The one that started it and ended it all. You know I should have seen it coming, the love, pain and regret. Even through all the hurt, I will still love you till the end. This letter is to you. I remember how it all started, how you came about. Here goes nothing.
By Kristina Brule2 months ago in Fiction
Love
When I was younger all the books, movies and songs had taught me that love is no matter what happens. That no matter how hurt, sad and betrayed you are, you stick next to that person, supporting them. You never give up on them, through thick and thin. I wish I knew how wrong they all were. How delusional and desperate they all were.
By Kristina Brule2 months ago in Confessions
Man on The bench
A rugged man holding a sign that read “need food or money” lies on a bench in the park wearing torn jeans, a high vis yellow shirt and boots all caked in dirt. A hat next to the sign is open with not a cent in it. He has nothing but a backpack and a blanket with him. The backpack substituted as the worst pillow. Staring off into the distance the man on the bench sees a young woman pass by who drops a few dollars into his makeshift wallet. He nods at her and smiles, she avoids eye contact and continues on as if he were not there. With a sigh the man sits up and grabs his bag. Unzipping it and shuffling through the few things in it he hears someone running towards him. An unknown teenager. He reaches for his wallet to put the few bucks he has now In it. As he reaches his wallet the teenager is next to him and grabs the hat and runs with all his money. Before the man could even utter a word after his initial disbelief the boy is gone, and so is his food money.
By Kristina Brule7 months ago in Fiction
The cat, the mermaid and the cave
Once upon a time there was a cat named Tom. Tom loves walking on the beach. The warm sand on his feet and the sun on his back made it the perfect place for naps. His belly was always full as he never roamed too far from his house, sometimes he would find fish in the water, no matter how hard he tried he could never catch any.
By Kristina Brule11 months ago in Fiction
Trapped
Deep within BloodHill Forest, where monsters of all types linger, the plants' murder, and the water boils, lives a fearsome 1000-year-old dragon. Corena is considered the mother of all dragons, The eldest known dragon to mankind, 100 feet tall and 70 feet long. Black scales with a red undertone as big as your head are believed to be sharp enough to kill a man. Claws longer than your body and her wit is as fast as a cheetah. Presumed dead, she went missing during the night of the great storm. The thunder shook the sky with a mighty rage, lightning seen from hundreds of miles, and the sea took life on the land. A scale was found in the town floating in the water found by a villager, all had assumed she was killed or left for a better place not ravaged by mother nature.
By Kristina Bruleabout a year ago in Fiction
Cabin In The Woods
The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window. Screaming winds and screeching wolves joined in sync the dance of the flames. Screams and laughter echoing into the night as the moon illuminates all around. The creeping shadow of an unknown figure lingering about the flames, whispering words known only to her and the spirit she is evoking. Blood drips down into a bowl filled to the brim with the thick nauseating liquid. Smoke filled the room and the aroma of death radiated throughout the cabin. Not a thing in sight, the wrinkled lady speaks. “ It should have worked. Hello? ” Silence.
By Kristina Brule2 years ago in Horror
Dear Mom
I love you and I care about you, but I do not like you. In fact, I silently resent you. The pain in my heart, the suffering in my eyes and the death of my soul. All caused by you and the decisions you passed down onto me. You’re called mom and yet you are only one by default. The life I've lived and the mistakes I've endured that you’ve made. Your decisions cause me to make my own decisions that I do not want. The drugs and guys you’ve chosen to be in your life, trickle down onto me. The kids not biologically mine, but legally and emotionally. I feel so lonely and used. I do not feel like a daughter but like an ATM and a safe last choice. In a way I'm glad I took in the kids as it got me to where I am now, but the question lingers in my mind. Would I be happier? How would my life be? If it was just me. Would I have bought a house at age 20? Dropped out of college? Would I be as mature? I’m up and down on my seesaw of emotions. Sometimes I'm content with my life. Other times I resent everyone and everything. How could you decide that a little girl would be a great second mom to the kids you decided to have. Why were the drugs better for you then your kids? Why were all your horrible choices pushed onto me? Because “I'd make a great mom?” well maybe that’s because I raised your kids my whole life. Almost everyone in my life just uses me because I can’t say no to people. All I want for myself is to be happy and feel what freedom is. I want to be able to not have to worry about food at home for the kids. To hope people are ok with me bringing my siblings with me sometimes. I love them with all my heart and I would never let them be somewhere they don’t want to be or feel unsafe. I would never say no they can't be with me. But why me? Why was this all on me? I shouldn’t be the one that has to care and worry for them. I’m not much older than them and yet I act as their mother. And now their dad is in prison, which is a good thing for almost everyone. Who do they really have except me? The mental trauma they fight with everyday as they hope i won’t say “ I don’t want you anymore” just like everyone else. I want them to be happy and not worry if there's food or if they'll get screamed at. I don’t want them to live the way I did growing up. Watching their parents do drugs, seeing their mom get hit and abused and hoping you aren’t next. Watching your dad get drunk and beat up your papa, the only adult that truly raised you and treated you like a kid. People telling me my whole life they expect great things from me. Causing me to never feel like I'm doing good enough no matter what I do. I hate you silently mom, you took my life away from me. Yes it taught me things but is the knowing worth the suffering? Is it worth having to pay off the debt you put me in cause you stole my money? I know I'm supposed to cherish you, but how do you cherish the person that makes you hate your life? I’ll never show you this letter, I'm sure. Even though I love you, I hate you. I hate the women you’ve become and who you’ve made me into.
By Kristina Brule2 years ago in Confessions
Lilac Scented Dreams (10)
Her anger visibly shaking the ground, Chrissy's eyes no longer the color of the warm, welcoming sun. But the color of an angry fire burning with rage inside of her. “You betrayed me?” Her voice is deeper than her usual soft loving self.
By Kristina Brule2 years ago in Fiction
So Called Love
I know it's selfish, conceited and crazy. To feel as though you have fallen in love with someone you barely know. I’m not sure if it is love, but I hope it is. The first time I saw you, I was caught. Caught in a spell I can’t seem to escape. The harder I try the harder I fall. Now I'm not sure I want to escape anymore. How crazy does it sound to write about how you love someone, you just met. I know it is crazy, I don’t know a whole lot about you, and you I. I’m ok with that, as long as I get to see you, be around you and hear you. Your voice is that of an angel, I melt when I hear it. Your smile is the most gorgeous smile I’ve ever seen. Your eyes, and the lines underneath, when you smile kill me. Selfishness comes into play, because I know you will never like me, so I will never tell you. I know you will be better for someone better. Conceited as I take everything as flirting, and have to knock myself down, for I remember, I am just loved out of pity. Crazy because I do not care for anything else. I want the chance to be around you, get to know you. Want to hear your voice and see your smile everyday. I want to feel your scars and hear your secrets. I want you to know me as well. I want you to crave my soul as I do yours. I know this will never happen so I will keep my mouth shut, and let this secret keep killing me slowly. Hopefully if I stay strong the flame of my love will burn out, and I can be free from the spell of this so-called love.
By Kristina Brule2 years ago in Poets
Lilac Scented Dreams (9)
Sitting atop a throne-like chair made of gemstones and stones, tall and intimidating, yet enchanting. Her feet are on top of natural stone slabs. Chrissy, herself fitting the title of a queen as her beauty was incomparable to those around her. Her skin is smooth and clear. Her dark hair is long and full of life. Brown eyes are so mesmerizing that even a dark soul would get lost in them. Her smile will stop a room full of people, to just look at her. with the small tooth gap completing the picture of her perfect imperfections. Wearing a thigh-length white dress covered in lace and small stones. Next to her is a woman, beautiful but not as comparable. Red long wavy hair that bounced as she moved about. Tall and slender, but broad. Freckles bestowed upon her face, very adamant about being noticed. A crooked nose and untouched eyebrows, but yet beautiful no doubt. She sat in a chair like Chrissy but not as grand, hers was smaller with fewer gems. She sat on Chrissy’s left. To the right of her was a throne far grander than her own. All gems and no stone. It looked as if it would cut you if not careful. Even though this chair was grander, it was not the one in the middle, pronouncing importance. Across from these three chairs is a table, with five chairs surrounding it. These chairs were normal wooden chairs but cushioned with fabric for comfort. A map of some sort lay on top of the table. The room itself is dark but full of life. Grand windows with flowers on the sill, different flowers fill the vases but in each vase, there is at least one purple dream lily protruding from the mass plants. Small cloud-like things fill the air, along with a small sun in the center. Aside from the stone path from the door to the center, where the thrones lie, the rest of the ground is made from soft, gentle grass. Some bushes and flowers create paths. The slight scent of lilac lingering in the air willing to attach itself to anything it can.
By Kristina Brule2 years ago in Fiction
Lilac Scented Dreams (8)
Laying in this now mud puddle, I fall further into it. As if sinking into the earth itself. Trembling, glancing around, and like always I am alone. Tears streamed down my face as if my eyes were a part of the clouds themselves. Feeling a flame ignite inside of me, power flowing through all of my veins. Something breaking and snapping at the same moment the sky closes in on itself once more. Clouds invading the sky and hiding the sun's shameful brightness. Lightning striking next to my body, thunder roaring in bitter resent. Standing up slowly and angrily, mud falling off of my clothes, hitting the ground rejoining where it once was. Feeling something open inside my mind like a secret door hiding in a closet. Eyes lighting up with the lightning strikes. Seeing and feeling things I have been through in this life and parts of the past. All the pain, loss, misery. The love, happiness, and courage, everything building up and flowing out like a stream of water.
By Kristina Brule2 years ago in Fiction
