CREATE A SHORT STORY USING SONG TITLES OF ARTISTS YOU LOVE

[AngelHeadedHipster 2,837]

 

HEY HIPSTERS THIS THREAD WAS CREATED SO THAT WE ALL CAN SHARE OUR OWN SHORT STORIES BASED ON SONG TITLES OF ARTISTS YOU LOVE. SO GO AHEAD AND PUT YOUR WRITERS HAT ON AND GET CREATIVE . ALL THE BEST

 

EXAMPLES :

 

 

1. LANA DEL REY

 

♩♪♫♬ HONEYMOON BLUES ♩♪♫♬

 

It all started on our "HONEYMOON" when I told "SALVATORE" that I still loved my ex. Even after all these years, I couldn't get him off my mind. He was my "RELIGION". I was "24" years old when I had met him at an "ART DECO" show where he was reading the poem "BURNT NORTON". I went over and asked him if he would be my "FREAK" so that we could get "HIGH BY THE BEACH". He immediately agreed and somewhere along the way we fell in love. But as fate would have it our relationship started to sour soon after. Then one day me and my girls were in a record store searching for some "MUSIC TO WATCH BOYS TO" when suddenly he entered the store and told me "TERRENCE LOVES YOU" no more. I swear that was "THE BLACKEST DAY" of my life!!! "GOD KNOWS I TRIED" to save what was left of our relationship. "DON'T LET ME BE MISUNDERSTOOD" but this was a once in a lifetime love affair that I couldn't sing a "SWAN SONG" to.

 

2. EXO (KPOP)

 

♩♪♫♬   EXODUS - A SHORT STORY   ♩♪♫♬

 

#WHATIF you met a #BEAUTIFUL #PLAYBOY at a party in #ELDORADO? Would you stay and be his #LADYLUCK even if it means getting #HURT by his flirtatious ways, when he tells the other girls #CALLMEBABY OR Would you be the #TRANSFORMER of his wicked ways and take him on an #EXODUS where, when people ask you who you love, you point to him and say he's #MYANSWER.

[Atom Heart 1,929]

.....I gtg

[Harlem 1,942]

[InTheSummer 777]

Brb pouring bleach over my face

[PinkVelvet 382]

i enjoy your pretty icon so much that i am okay with these threads

[FKAbrandon 389]

Delilah was a curious girl much to the dismay of her mother.

Like other little girls she had a fondness of all things feminine and had a special affinity for her mother’s fancy vanity. She spent several hours at the gold-trimmed victorian mirrors applying scented face powders, and red lipstick under the care of her mammy Ms. Maisley. She was the youngest of the Lynch children. Her next sibling, John John, 7 years her senior spent his time playing with the Bush boys leaving Delilah all alone. John John’s summers were full of days playing catch, trapping unfamiliar insects, and fishing near Broken Black river. While Delilah spent most of her days sitting on her family’s front porch idling away, playing with imaginary friends, her Jacks, and the collection of dolls she amassed from her father’s travels; she longed to travel into the fields to make friends with some of the Negro children.

Maisley was one of the Lynch family’s eldest and wisest servants, and spent her life raising several generations of Lynch children, including Delilah’s father. Much to Maisley’s surprise, as repayment for her years of loyalty and care, her own son would lose his life to one of the children she spent her lifetime caring for. When Delilah’s father was just becoming a man, barely old enough to herd cattle or control his own horse, he beat and murdered Maisley’s son for accidentally tipping and spilling a bail of cotton. It had been 23 years since Maisley gathered her son’s body from the bottom of the Artubus tree, or spoke her last word. Nowadays, she sat quietly, responding gently to requests made of her, and watching little Delilah when Mrs. Lynch was away from the plantation, or otherwise occupied.

Ms. Maisley heard everything and saw even more.

Delilah’s mother, Lilith; was a compassionate but suspicious woman. Her family was one of the most affluent southern families of the time. They were descendants of the royal crown and since their arrival in the Americas, built a fortune trading cotton, tobacco, and slaves for a living. While most madams of similar stature, were full of pride, basking in the glory of their good fortune and prosperity, Lilith remained uneasy and lived with a gnawing fear. Instead of hosting lavish tea and dinner parties to posture for other wealthy families, she kept watch over Delilah; making sure she never wandered off the porch into the fields with their Negro slaves.

Lilith knew that people despised her husband just as much as they admired him.

She knew the stories of her family’s wealth, and the torture many slaves endured at the hands of her husband, “Luther Luciferian Lynch,” traveled far and wide across the south… patronizing the fears of slaves, while antagonizing the wealth and egos of other plantation owners, who’s fortunes paled in comparison to the Lynch family’s riches.

Luther Luciferian Lynch was as famous as he was rich. He was a famous writer and speaker who gave spirited instruction to other slave owners who aspired to be as wealthy as he, and who wanted to control unruly slaves.

Luther was as smart as he was destructive, but had no idea that the instruction his letters provided, would survive for thousands of years, lending direction long after he and his children’s children returned to the earth, on how to mangle and control the minds of countless generations of his slaves.

Although Luther was a cruel man, he adored Delilah. He loved her more than any of his other children, and Delilah loved him dearly. “Idle Delilah” is what he called her, because whenever he returned from business trips, he would find Delilah sitting absolutely still, waiting for him on the family’s porch. Upon return from his business trips, Luther looked forward to the first glimpses of Delilah’s two red bows, round face, peachy cheeks, and trusting eyes when she stood up, after hearing his carriage approaching the plantation’s pebbled dirt road. Delilah knew whenever “poppa” would return from a trip, he would bring new toys, exciting stories, and other treats just for her.

It was only when Lilith recognized Luther’s blistery, red, sweaty skin… which had been permanently burned from his long carriage trips under the hot southern sun and his signature ivory-white suit, would she relax her watch over Delilah and permit her to run down the porch steps to greet him.

“Poppa!” Delilah would delightfully greet Luther. And in his southern redneck drawl, Luther would return Delilah’s warm greeting with a big hug and “What has my Idle Delilah been up to since I’ve been gone?” and immediately present his precious little girl with a new gift he picked out especially for her. As he carried his Delilah back to the house, the trail of affectionate chatter between Luther and his “Idle Delilah” would stir a sense of resentment in the Negros toiling in the fields. Too afraid to show signs of their loathing, each slave would quietly bow their heads and return their focus to picking, plowing, digging, and slowly dying in the Lynch fields. Despite their efforts to conceal their feelings, Lilith knew the Negros hated Luther just as much as they feared him. And as much as she enjoyed the comfort and luxuries that their sacrifices granted, she felt dreadful about their suffering; but was very afraid that her husband’s bestial nature would turn on her, if she ever said a word. So as routine would have it, she quietly sympathized, bowed her head and gracefully moved into the interior of the great house.

Lilith knew that Delilah was curious. Little Delilah possessed a curiosity that transcended all reason, fear, and furtive warnings from her about the dangers of journeying off, and mingling with the Negroes who she knew loathed Luther. Ignoring her mother’s warning, it was a daily occurrence, that Lilith would find Delilah behind the Negro quarters playing Jacks with“Aurelia,” a small Negro girl who befriended Delilah, and Delilah’s only friend.

Despite Aurelia’s mother’s warnings about the dangers of playing with Delilah, Aurelia would sneak off behind her shack to play with Delilah before she would be caught by Mrs. Lynch.

One day Aurelia’s luck had run out when she was caught playing with little Delilah by Mr. Lynch instead of the Mrs. Lynch. After chasing Aurelia into the fields and around the Arbutus tree that stood watch over the plantation, Mr. Lynch cornered Aurelia against the Arbutus, and began delivering powerful kicks, punches, and lashes to her frail adolescent body, as her mother stood by crippled with fear, too afraid to make a sound, or any attempt to help her suffering daughter. Aurelia’s mother knew that if she moved or made a sound, Mr. Lynch’s wrath would instantly turn on her, or force the life out of Aurelia’s bleeding body.

Aurelia’s mother remained absolutely still starring past her little girl into the dense vegetation that surrounded the arbutus tree, feeling ashamed and defeated, until she heard the door slam to Mr. Lynch’s home, before quickly moving in to lift Aurelia’s body from the bottom of the Arbutus tree.

As much as Luther Luciferian Lynch knew that he was admired, he knew he was hated.

And as much as Lilith missed Luther when he was traveling, she loved it when he was home. And as cruel as he was arrogant, Luther lived without fear. Luther knew he had built up quite a dangerous reputation and never worried about being disobeyed by anyone, lest they suffer the violent consequences. It was Luther’s careless arrogance, and Lilith’s excitement to have him home after his recent travels, which left them both distracted one summer afternoon. It was late in the afternoon after all the slaves had left the fields and the house for the day, and Lilith and Luther retired to their bedroom with a bottle of gin Luther purchased during his trip. As the sun began its descent and the darkness of night began falling on the the Lynch family plantation, Delilah quickly and eagerly moved past the kitchen and out the back door without a trace. Maisley spotted Delilah as she hastily moved past her cabin and then the Arbutus tree, but said nothing. Maisley watched Delilah continue until the back of her frilly powder white dress disappeared into the dense dark forrest behind the Lynch property.

To Be Continued …….

[Flowerbomb 65,593]

1. JEFF BUCKLEY

 

Last night, on a cold dark night, a man had a dream about a girl named "GRACE". She had dark long hair and emerald eyes. She was lonely and sad, and started shooting heroin into her toe. As she was looking at the needle going into her toe, she said "Just what I needed. A "MOJO PIN" to keep me feeling sane". Her body then turned to black ash and crumbled to the ground.

 

The man woke up in a cold sweat, confused by his dream. "What the hell was that all about?", he thought. He rubbed his eyes and drank the rest of the "LILAC WINE" from the bottle that rested on the wooden floor. He lay in the wet spot of the bed, unable to return to his slumber. Earlier that night his girlfriend had to cancel their plans. As he lay there in a daze, he thought "LOVER, YOU SHOULD'VE COME OVER". Loneliness continued to torture him.

 

The golden morning sun crept upon his skinny frame, the heat waking him up. He couldn't remember how he returned to sleep. He sat up, thinking about his strange dream. The girl, the heroin...it all felt "SO REAL". He shook it off and took a shower, then got dressed for a long day of work.

 

He drove in his car and decided to turn on the radio for some background noise. The song "CORPUS CHRISTI CAROL" silently played as he tried to focus on the road. But the girl in his dream kept on flashing in his mind. The emerald eyes, the needle, the look of despair on her face...

Luckily he made it to his workplace in time. "HALLELUJAH" he thought. He rushed inside, as if the girl was in the backseat of his car, watching his every move like a hawk. For the entire day, he tried to "FORGET HER".

 

Tedious hours passed, and he drove back home with ease. When he got back, he made the same old sad microwave meal and sat in front of the television. He finished his meal quick. The luminous blue glow began to hurt his eyes, something that never bothered him before. It was as if a force was trying to get him to lay down. He couldn't take the sting anymore and decided to sleep it off, completely forgetting about the dream he had. On the silk sheets he lay and drifted off fearlessly.

Then the girl appeared in his dream again. "Join me in ETERNAL LIFE" she whispered. "No..." the man said, trying to escape her chamber and embrace. "Be my DREAM BROTHER" she said, holding out her pale frail hand. "Please" she said. Her once green eyes now turned to black. The man stared at her, he stared at the despaired look on her face, her ripped white dress, her infected feet... He began to cry. The man knew it was a dream and that he couldn't help her get better. "This is our LAST GOODBYE" he said, turning away. The girl cried and disappeared. The man then woke up in the same cold sweat, thinking about her pain. There just wasn't anything he could do. It was a dream, after all.

 

 

 

I'm so crap at writing stories omg