Mar 26
fiction 0 comments challenge: Dye
obrienj's picture

Blue box

I was sick of brown hair. It was so boring, I hated it. I wanted to be unique, I wanted to be different. After finally convincing my mom she bought me a box of purple hair dye. That night I carefully applied the dye onto my hair and waited 45 minutes as the box. My timer went off and I jumped off my bed in glee, running into the bathroom to rinse my hair. I ran the cool water through my hair, massaging my scalp and running my finger through my hair. Looking at myself in the mirror I felt new, edgy, exclusive. I went to bed, so happy to wake up the next morning to something new, yet what happened was the worst thing yet. I walked to my mirror the next morning and my hair was jet black. I screamed and ran downstairs to the box I threw away the night before, reading all the same text when I noticed smaller print at the bottom. It read, do not rinse with water after given time, solution when mixed with water will become quite darker.
Oct 29
obrienj's picture


       I was staring out my window, not exactly focused on anything, I had a one track mind at the moment. Would she ever come back? Was it my fault she left? Where would she go? Why exactly did she leave? I didn’t know. I just remembered the loud slam of the door, running to my window and watching the exhaust billow up into the air as she sped away. She’d left everything behind, including me. I was frightened, abandoned, and alone. I stared at my reflection in the window pane, how long had it been? I look at the time and then the calender, two years, I miss her.

Mar 21
obrienj's picture



The path feels smooth against my feet,
My heart's drumming to its own beat,
The birds are awake and singing,
And my head is ringing,
I know I’ll have to leave soon, 
Leave the light of the precious moon,
I see a brick building, tall and mighty,
The bricks are all in place, all in order, 
But one, 
It’s loose and it’s bothering me, 
I walk, the path smooth under my feet, 
I walk eyes fixated on the brick,
I walk and reach out for the brick,
I pull it out slightly and a note flutters down,
The brick is no longer on my mind,
I leave it hanging and grab the note off the ground,
I look for someone but no-one is around,
The note has no name or address, 
As I unfold the note it seems as if someone wrote it under stress,
The handwriting is messy and unorganized,
The paper feels delicate in my hand,
As if a sudden movement would tear it, 
Feb 15
obrienj's picture

Then they care

No one cares if I’m Invisible, 
If I’m alone, 
If I’m unseen,
If I’m forgotten, 
If I’m bullied, 
If I’m crying,
If they were lying,
I am ignored, neglected, 
Treated like I´m not even there, 
I read the notes, 
The messages, 
The Gossip, 
Lurking around the halls,
Staring at me like porcelain dolls,
Why am I even here? 
I’m not loved,
I lie to myself, 
Until I convince myself there’s nothing left, 
A note, a rope, a death, 
Then they care


Jan 04
poem 0 comments challenge: I Like
obrienj's picture


I like running, the rush, the excitement, the energy 

I like the beginning of the race as you feel the butterflies in your stomach, the stampede of emotions, and as you let all that go, getting in the zone

I like the pit patter of feet, the crunch of gravel kicking up, dust billowing like a desert storm 

I like during the race, as I keep a steady pace, passing every so often, pushing myself on the hills, pushing my body to its best abilities 

I like as nearing the end of the race, you look at your competitors, deciding the right time to blast off 

I like when you can see the finish line, when it’s time to sprint, every once of my body pushing, burning like a fire just about to go out, giving my last and all on the battlefield

I like when I cross the finish line, when I slow and feel the rush of it being over, as I talk about the race with my friends and quench my thirst, hoping my lungs don’t burst 
Oct 16
obrienj's picture


No way. No freaking way. I look at my sister once more, above her head seems to be a holographic box with grumpy written inside it, “Abby come here” I say and drag her to the bathroom “What” Abby says flatly,  rolling her eyes, “you don’t, you, you don’t see that?” I say shocked “See what? Gosh, weirdo” She walks out of the room. I follow her downstairs to the kitchen and above my mom's head is the same thing, only thing this box says happy, “Good morning!” My mom says sing songy. “Someone’s in a good mood” Abby says poking at her breakfast bagel. My dad then walks in and I think I’m losing it, his box says annoyed “I’ll be working the late shift this weekend” My dad says aloud but mainly taking to my mom “Bob isn’t coming in, because he feels sick, didn’t he feel sick last week, yes, didn’t he feel sick on Saturday and I had to go in, yes, didn’t he-“ My dad starts to rant, “Honey. Not now” My mom cuts him off.