Angeleyz's Doodles From Her Noodle

Perhaps a story is here...

"Wrong Side Of Heaven" by Five Finger Death Punch

I spoke to God today, and she said that she's ashamed.
What have I become, what have I done?
I spoke to the Devil today, and he swears he's not to blame.
And I understood, cause I feel the same.

Arms wide open, I stand alone.
I'm no hero, and I'm not made of stone.
Right or wrong, I can hardly tell.
I'm on the wrong side of heaven, and the righteous side of hell.
The wrong side of heaven, and the righteous side, righteous side of hell.

I heard from God today, and she sounded just like me.
What have I done, and who have I become.
I saw the Devil today, and he looked a lot like me.
I looked away, I turned away!

Arms wide open, I stand alone.
I'm no hero, and I'm not made of stone.
Right or wrong, I can hardly tell.
I'm on the wrong side of heaven, and the righteous side of hell.
The wrong side of heaven, and the righteous side, the righteous side of hell.

I'm not defending, downward descending,
Falling further and further away!
Getting closer every day!

I'm getting closer every day, to the end.
To the end, the end, the end,
I'm getting closer every day!

Arms wide open, I stand alone.
I'm no hero, and I'm not made of stone.
Right or wrong, I can hardly tell.
I'm on the wrong side of heaven, and the righteous side of hell.
The wrong side of heaven, and the righteous side of hell.
The wrong side of heaven, and the righteous side, the righteous side of hell.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Not sure why this song is haunting me so much... I can't watch the video without wanting to cry (and maybe sorta even doing it) but I'll listen to the song over and over and over again. Best I can figure is there's a story here trying to get out...
 
Recently divorced woman moves into a new neighborhood looking to make a fresh start and ends up with a plethora of potential playmates.

Thinking this one would be where she's the instigator for once... :devil:
 
Recently divorced woman moves into a new neighborhood looking to make a fresh start and ends up with a plethora of potential playmates.

Thinking this one would be where she's the instigator for once... :devil:

Now this could be fun
 
Had been looking forward to doing the rp below with Execution_Style, but sadly it never got off the ground.


Still itching to do it, but will likely take a special personality to delve into the storyline that had been buzzing about in my noggin. Then again, I don't typically like having everything mapped out anyway, but rather like watching how collaborative back and forth can take plots in directions not previously imagined.

And THAT is probably why I've been unable to get traction on the rest of my doodling lately. :rolleyes:
 
Another potential idea

The sudden blaring of the old fashioned clock radio at the side of the bed broke the silence in the nearly blackened room. A small crack in the closely drawn curtains allowed a silvery beam of light to penetrate the room darkening shades. The clock continued its raucous racket until a slim arm erupted from the tangle of sheets and blankets and the attached hand slapped around blindly until finally, blessedly, connecting with the off button.

Another minute passed before the figure on the bed moved again, this time thrashing about trying to fight the layers of sheets and blankets that had been twisted about their body. Each gyration was accompanied by rapidly increasing sounds of frustration before the linens were finally kicked or pushed away.

“Oh my god, I’m so going to kill them,” croaked the woman, throwing her arm over her eyes because even the pale silver stream of light hurt her eyes.

She had never in her 30 years ever been as hung over as she was now. She hadn’t even wanted to go out the night before, but Kristen, Mary and Laura had insisted they celebrate her newly single status and had overruled her protestations. There was nothing wrong with having a nice quiet meal while enjoying a Game of Thrones marathon, but nooooooo her friends felt she needed to be dragged to goodness knows how many different bars and dance clubs.

Pushing herself into a sitting position, Kelsey had to wait for the room to stop madly spinning before swinging her legs to the side of the bed. Each movement required a moment before the room stopped spinning enough for her to get from the bed and stagger to the bathroom where she needed to empty her bladder.

“I am never having more than one drink again,” she declared as she caught herself on the bathroom doorframe to keep from falling.

There was something about her reflection in the mirror as she entered the room that caught Kelsey’s attention. She stared transfixed by the image she saw. She could understand her blouse and skirt being wrinkled after having been slept in, but she had no recollection as to how the side slit in black skirt had grown well past the point of her comfort level and her white blouse looked like it was buttoned up incorrectly.

“What the…,” she murmured moving closer to the mirror, bodily needs forgotten.

There were marks all over her neck and chest. Large mottled purple, black and blue marks that looked like a combination of hickies and bruises, and if she wasn’t mistaken actual bite marks, appeared stark against the paleness of her skin. Shakily raising her right hand she probed a couple of the marks with a wince, wondering why she couldn’t remember a damn thing.

Don't have a set thought per se of where this would go. Kelsey is newly divorced and isn't interested in opening herself up to any kind of relationship at the moment. Did she hook up with one of her friends? More than one of her friends? Some random stranger? Someone she knows? Is there a nefarious reason she can't remember what happened? Blah, blah, blah... :rolleyes:
 
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