Shop Mobile More Submit  Join Login
About Deviant RachelFemale/United States Recent Activity
Deviant for 10 Months
Needs Core Membership
Statistics 8 Deviations 28 Comments 381 Pageviews
×

Newest Deviations

Mr. Oogie Boogie Man by Sionnacha Mr. Oogie Boogie Man :iconsionnacha:Sionnacha 1 1 Kreyul (Nightmare Factory) by Sionnacha Kreyul (Nightmare Factory) :iconsionnacha:Sionnacha 0 3 Princess Serenity by Sionnacha Princess Serenity :iconsionnacha:Sionnacha 0 0 Angels We Have Heard On High by Sionnacha Angels We Have Heard On High :iconsionnacha:Sionnacha 1 0 H-A-P-P-Y B-I-R-T-H-D-A-Y! by Sionnacha H-A-P-P-Y B-I-R-T-H-D-A-Y! :iconsionnacha:Sionnacha 0 0 Cookie Monster says~ OM NOM NOM COOKIESSS!!! by Sionnacha Cookie Monster says~ OM NOM NOM COOKIESSS!!! :iconsionnacha:Sionnacha 0 0

Groups

deviantID

Sionnacha's Profile Picture
Sionnacha
Rachel
United States
Life is lived one moment at a time, one foot in front of the other. Aspiring YouTuber. Book lover. Music aficionado. Grammar Nazi. Nerd/Geek and #Writer! :)
Getting back into drawing, one small piece at a time :)
Interests

Activity


My tablet isn't working anymore Dean CryingHibiya Amamiya (Cries) [V2]  Chisaki Crying Icon 
Mr. Oogie Boogie Man
Mr. Oogie Boogie Man from the Nightmare Before Christmas! Quick doodle request for my friend :) 

Mostly done, but still work to do, gonna add some shading, see where we are after that ^^

Please do not use without my permission, thank you :) 
Loading...
At the lineart stage for Kreyul :3 Excited to finish! Stay tuned for more :)

The little girl, elated she may have found her help,
ran to the door, which said,
DO NOT ENTER IF YOU ARE UNDER THIS TALL.
'That's weird,' thought
the little girl;
those warnings were only
found in Broken China City.

But she found some stilts, becoming an imposter

once again, walked through the door
and said:
I'd like some help please

Little was she to know, their help came
with a price. The one who came out the
back, she looked like she'd gone through the

bombings herself, a dark time and place.

Broken pieces covered her mostly whole body, so
this little girl, she began to believe and
hope for some guidance
and love through this constantly dim twilight.
 

It sounded fun, it sounded like
a possibility. She said ‘Sign me up!’

Little was she to know, she had signed a
contract, detailing her eventual
descent into
madness, hopeless and maybe
HER DEATH

A professional camp, pushing out broken
china men and broken china women every
month, telling her things she'd already

heard and things she already knew.

At that point, she thought ‘I can't complain.
I chose this path for me.’ At that point,
she thought ‘This is what I deserve. This is what

I need. There's no escaping
Broken China City.

So, as she cried herself to sleep once
a week, she began to break herself
down as everyone told her

Not pretty enough
Not determined enough
Not smart enough

Not good enough

She thought again, ‘This is what I need. This is
What I deserve. No more and no
less than I asked for.

The hideous
Disfigured
Grotesque
Monsters who worked in this camp,

they were all professionally broken down
themselves. Making it look like being a

living weapon was a work of art.

The little china girl at this point lost all
hope in a better life, a better world. Where people
appreciated your hard work and

praised you for a job well done.

In the camp, she realized she was no better off
than she'd been outside, but she didn't
see things through halfway.

In a fit of anger and madness, she thought ‘Fine.
If they want to see me broken down,
that's what they'll get.


And so it began:

She covered herself
in turpentine. She stayed
in the freezing cold and burning heat
saying that it didn't bother her. She began to
trip on every rock and stone in her path.

She ran into trees and buildings.

When she thought enough pieces had
fallen off, she started going to the secondhand

shops, and when she couldn't afford it,
started to make backroom deals.

Started to sell pieces of her sanity and her
happiness, she sold pieces of her golden hair and
her bright blue dress. She took burnished pieces

of her cheekbones apart to
pay
for the broken china

she needed to blend into this

broken world.

The other children, the poor children she'd thought
when she walked in, several were already
in various states of disrepair, she could tell,

they'd given so many pieces away, they'd never go
back to the way they were.

Like little soldier children, they'd been hijacked
from their lives, not knowing any better,
not seeing any better, they did what

they were told. They'd never been told
it could be different.

Before long, the little china girl was covered in broken edges;
SPLINTERS
FRAGMENTS
CRACKS
and FRACTURES

She was where she thought she needed to
be at this point. But then the adults looked
at her and said

STILL NOT GOOD ENOUGH

She looked at herself, sad and depressed, wondering what more
Could they want from her?

Then she looked at her feet, the only thing she still
hadn't given away, cause she knew if she
did, she would no longer have her stable

footing. She wouldn't be able to run and
skip, or ever walk again.

So, at the end of the line, she cried nearly the
whole night through. No matter what she did was never
good enough; still they wanted the last piece,
the last true, genuine piece
of her, her soul, her essence, her feet.

So, one day, walking back after a day of
tripping, thinking that could be good enough,
she realized again, nothing more than what they

asked would be good enough,

There came a voice that said, ‘Stop! Wait! You are
good enough. You're still beautiful.
You are smart and genuine. You're funny and

wonderful. You're everything you need to be.

Startled, the little china girl dropped the rock she'd
been holding to smash her feet into
smithereens. She looked around and

realized who it was.

Immediately she thought, you're not real. A figment of
my imaginings. Or a plant, a seed. Used to make
hope and believe and dream again,

YOU'RE NOT REAL
The little china girl shouted at the
apparition. She started to back away in fear. Cause

nothing can destroy you faster than a
wish. No one in this camp had a

real heart.

They were pawned away ages ago. There's
no such thing as a dream is a wish your heart
makes, the girl repeated in her head like a

mantra. What she'd been saying
since day one.

The apparition came closer, thundering loud,
What do you mean I'm not real? I'm as real as you
and this tree, I'm as real as that rock you

just dropped.

I'm real and you're real
.
And I'm saying you're beautiful and smart and

talented and funny.
I'm saying you're good enough and

I can see you're motivation and determination.

I can see you're a good person and a trustworthy
person.
I can see you're a good friend and a
hard worker, I can se-

No! Stop!’ the little girl cried out, fearing that this
apparition, no, this woman, had started to make
her believe and hope again. She raised her little glass shards

of hands to cover her face,
cover her ears.

This blasphemy wasn't something she'd be able
to hear, not after all her time in that
place, that godforsaken place. Oh god,

well there, she'd done it.

She glared at her, saying, ‘I hope you're happy
now. I claim no responsibility
for what comes after.

For this woman had cracks and tears but she'd never
been broken, not in any obvious way that could be
seen. Maybe she'd walked out of the fire and

survived, the strongest glaze she could see.

Little by little, she began to build up this
little glass doll, removing the broken pieces and
gluing in her own, the pieces she'd found on

the sidewalks and behind the building.

Some in the trash and some with the
children. Eventually, she looked almost new, but
there were pieces, original pieces she'd never

be able to get back:

Her fingers
Her finish
Her polish
Her hair
Her cheekbones
Her eyes

But being told she was good enough was
just enough. She could see, for the first
time realizing, maybe this world

can be more than it seemed.

She went out to share the news, to spread her
revelation. People needed to hear about this, she
thought, people need to understand they don't need

to be ragged edges of mismatched pottery anymore.

But no one wanted to hear her message, no one wanted
to have any part. Fine, I'll keep it to myself,
damn you all for the doubt.

I'm better off anyway.

Eventually, the china girl, not so little
anymore, went back to her glass bubble, realizing
that in her revelation, there might be one who

wanted to hear. One who it might
be able to help.

Before any of their work started to tear down
her self confidence and self esteem
methodically, like blind surgeons

with scalpels.

She raced home to find, in her dismay, that
her sister's bubble had already been
broken. Not from outside as hers had

been, but from the inside,
and remembered,
 

As a graduating ceremony, the deformed pieces
of china bestowed upon,

as a gift to you, broken arms and broken legs.

They combed your hair with a wire
brush, and powdered your face with

turpentine, saying, ‘Oh, how beautiful you look.

They took her fingers and her ears, they took
the golden curlicues of her hair, they took her blush
and her smile, sold them to the highest bidder.

I came home and fell to my knees, thinking:

My sister is already lost to me.

The little girl, elated she may have found her help,
ran to the door, which said,
DO NOT ENTER IF YOU ARE UNDER THIS TALL.
'That's weird,' thought
the little girl;
those warnings were only
found in Broken China City.

But she found some stilts, becoming an imposter

once again, walked through the door
and said:
I'd like some help please

Little was she to know, their help came
with a price. The one who came out the
back, she looked like she'd gone through the

bombings herself, a dark time and place.

Broken pieces covered her mostly whole body, so
this little girl, she began to believe and
hope for some guidance
and love through this constantly dim twilight.
 

It sounded fun, it sounded like
a possibility. She said ‘Sign me up!’

Little was she to know, she had signed a
contract, detailing her eventual
descent into
madness, hopeless and maybe
HER DEATH

A professional camp, pushing out broken
china men and broken china women every
month, telling her things she'd already

heard and things she already knew.

At that point, she thought ‘I can't complain.
I chose this path for me.’ At that point,
she thought ‘This is what I deserve. This is what

I need. There's no escaping
Broken China City.

So, as she cried herself to sleep once
a week, she began to break herself
down as everyone told her

Not pretty enough
Not determined enough
Not smart enough

Not good enough

She thought again, ‘This is what I need. This is
What I deserve. No more and no
less than I asked for.

The hideous
Disfigured
Grotesque
Monsters who worked in this camp,

they were all professionally broken down
themselves. Making it look like being a

living weapon was a work of art.

The little china girl at this point lost all
hope in a better life, a better world. Where people
appreciated your hard work and

praised you for a job well done.

In the camp, she realized she was no better off
than she'd been outside, but she didn't
see things through halfway.

In a fit of anger and madness, she thought ‘Fine.
If they want to see me broken down,
that's what they'll get.


And so it began:

She covered herself
in turpentine. She stayed
in the freezing cold and burning heat
saying that it didn't bother her. She began to
trip on every rock and stone in her path.

She ran into trees and buildings.

When she thought enough pieces had
fallen off, she started going to the secondhand

shops, and when she couldn't afford it,
started to make backroom deals.

Started to sell pieces of her sanity and her
happiness, she sold pieces of her golden hair and
her bright blue dress. She took burnished pieces

of her cheekbones apart to
pay
for the broken china

she needed to blend into this

broken world.

The other children, the poor children she'd thought
when she walked in, several were already
in various states of disrepair, she could tell,

they'd given so many pieces away, they'd never go
back to the way they were.

Like little soldier children, they'd been hijacked
from their lives, not knowing any better,
not seeing any better, they did what

they were told. They'd never been told
it could be different.

Before long, the little china girl was covered in broken edges;
SPLINTERS
FRAGMENTS
CRACKS
and FRACTURES

She was where she thought she needed to
be at this point. But then the adults looked
at her and said

STILL NOT GOOD ENOUGH

She looked at herself, sad and depressed, wondering what more
Could they want from her?

Then she looked at her feet, the only thing she still
hadn't given away, cause she knew if she
did, she would no longer have her stable

footing. She wouldn't be able to run and
skip, or ever walk again.

So, at the end of the line, she cried nearly the
whole night through. No matter what she did was never
good enough; still they wanted the last piece,
the last true, genuine piece
of her, her soul, her essence, her feet.

So, one day, walking back after a day of
tripping, thinking that could be good enough,
she realized again, nothing more than what they

asked would be good enough,

There came a voice that said, ‘Stop! Wait! You are
good enough. You're still beautiful.
You are smart and genuine. You're funny and

wonderful. You're everything you need to be.

Startled, the little china girl dropped the rock she'd
been holding to smash her feet into
smithereens. She looked around and

realized who it was.

Immediately she thought, you're not real. A figment of
my imaginings. Or a plant, a seed. Used to make
hope and believe and dream again,

YOU'RE NOT REAL
The little china girl shouted at the
apparition. She started to back away in fear. Cause

nothing can destroy you faster than a
wish. No one in this camp had a

real heart.

They were pawned away ages ago. There's
no such thing as a dream is a wish your heart
makes, the girl repeated in her head like a

mantra. What she'd been saying
since day one.

The apparition came closer, thundering loud,
What do you mean I'm not real? I'm as real as you
and this tree, I'm as real as that rock you

just dropped.

I'm real and you're real
.
And I'm saying you're beautiful and smart and

talented and funny.
I'm saying you're good enough and

I can see you're motivation and determination.

I can see you're a good person and a trustworthy
person.
I can see you're a good friend and a
hard worker, I can se-

No! Stop!’ the little girl cried out, fearing that this
apparition, no, this woman, had started to make
her believe and hope again. She raised her little glass shards

of hands to cover her face,
cover her ears.

This blasphemy wasn't something she'd be able
to hear, not after all her time in that
place, that godforsaken place. Oh god,

well there, she'd done it.

She glared at her, saying, ‘I hope you're happy
now. I claim no responsibility
for what comes after.

For this woman had cracks and tears but she'd never
been broken, not in any obvious way that could be
seen. Maybe she'd walked out of the fire and

survived, the strongest glaze she could see.

Little by little, she began to build up this
little glass doll, removing the broken pieces and
gluing in her own, the pieces she'd found on

the sidewalks and behind the building.

Some in the trash and some with the
children. Eventually, she looked almost new, but
there were pieces, original pieces she'd never

be able to get back:

Her fingers
Her finish
Her polish
Her hair
Her cheekbones
Her eyes

But being told she was good enough was
just enough. She could see, for the first
time realizing, maybe this world

can be more than it seemed.

She went out to share the news, to spread her
revelation. People needed to hear about this, she
thought, people need to understand they don't need

to be ragged edges of mismatched pottery anymore.

But no one wanted to hear her message, no one wanted
to have any part. Fine, I'll keep it to myself,
damn you all for the doubt.

I'm better off anyway.

Eventually, the china girl, not so little
anymore, went back to her glass bubble, realizing
that in her revelation, there might be one who

wanted to hear. One who it might
be able to help.

Before any of their work started to tear down
her self confidence and self esteem
methodically, like blind surgeons

with scalpels.

She raced home to find, in her dismay, that
her sister's bubble had already been
broken. Not from outside as hers had

been, but from the inside,
and remembered,
 

As a graduating ceremony, the deformed pieces
of china bestowed upon,

as a gift to you, broken arms and broken legs.

They combed your hair with a wire
brush, and powdered your face with

turpentine, saying, ‘Oh, how beautiful you look.

They took her fingers and her ears, they took
the golden curlicues of her hair, they took her blush
and her smile, sold them to the highest bidder.

I came home and fell to my knees, thinking:

My sister is already lost to me.

Comments


Add a Comment:
 
:iconshi-no-tamashii:
Shi-no-tamashii Featured By Owner Sep 22, 2016  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
Thank you for the watch! HUGE Grin 
Reply
:iconuzumaki18:
Uzumaki18 Featured By Owner Sep 17, 2016  Student General Artist
thanks for the watch :D
Reply
:iconmasa1989:
Masa1989 Featured By Owner Aug 22, 2016
thx for the watch :D
Reply
:iconsionnacha:
Sionnacha Featured By Owner Aug 22, 2016
Very welcome :D
Reply