screaming

Longche willed himself to change into his true vampire form. As the helpless vampire watched the transformation, it started screaming. It was still screaming when Longche's rows of razor-sharp teeth sank into its throat. It had been thousands of years since he had drunk the blood of vampires. With each creature he consumed, he could feel himself growing stronger.Growing stronger - and growing closer to the Dark Mother, who was waiting to exact a terrible revenge upon him.

Tilly screamed. Anna__ shocked brain only registered annoyance at the sound. Really, when had someone screaming ever solved a problem? She recognized her fixation on this irritation as her own way of avoiding the horror in front of her, but only in a distant and dreamy sort of way.

So you're lost, uh? Happens a lot out here. You walk around for days, seeing things, losing your bearings, crying out for God, But He can't hear you. You can scream and scream but nobody'll ever hear you.

When I noticed other people, I wondered what it was like to be alive. They did not know, could not know, how I felt inside. My shell still passed for normal. I felt like I should scream for help, someone should help, but I knew that the time for screaming had passed. Best to just keep on walking, walking dead, one of the few things I could still do. So I kept walking.

Children playing while in the background the TV blares with screams, gunfire and rape-murder scenes. It seeps in.

Give me a moment I am preparing to drawback to screamLouder than a train overhead below a railroad bridge

We stand a professional distance apart, as if I can__ feel his pain screaming in my head. Mine amplifies his; they share a joint sound__hat of glass breaking__ntil they swell to a crescendo that deafens.

When a person screams in pain, the actual pain is only half the noise they make. The other half is the terror at being forced to accept that they exist.

No art is silent! Because art is an original idea and every original idea speaks, every interesting thought screams, every art talks, every art screams! No art is silent! If it is silent, then it is not an art!

If trees could scream, would we be so cavalier about cutting them down? We might, if they screamed all the time, for no good reason.

Once people see you cry, it's like they own part of you. It's like you ripped a hole in yourself, and they saw through whatever armor you had on, got a good long view of all the screaming alien goop underneath.

Silence can be breathing space and spawn release and wellness in a time of appalling inflation of words. But silence may be intolerably screaming, if it means absence of communication, deficiency in friendship and emotional deficit. (« A gap of silence_)

That scream left her mouth and entered my head, where it's been ever since, sometimes waking me up at night.

Some people believe that if they yell and scream, others will get the point of just how serious they are. For me, all I get is the point of just how out of control that someone is.

When we resort to screaming at someone, we are revealing weakness and a sense of helplessness. If we can__ seem to get our message or feelings across any other way, then we get angry, and we get loud!

You would think it best to save your breath for running, but I often find screaming helps.

If you don__ die screaming in this war, then you__e fuckin_ doing it wrong. At least I__ fucking doing it right.

When I die, I want to die like my grandfather who died peacefully in his sleep. Not screaming like all the passengers in his car.