Images: Definitions of Evil

Here at Images we thought Halloween would be the perfect time to explore evil.  The Art Club tackled the issue and created some amazing pieces, and the writers at Images decided to do some writing to match.  What resulted is a terrifying, interesting and often profound exploration of the dark side of human nature.  So ask yourself “What does evil mean to me?” and follow us as we answer the same question. 

A word of warning: you may want to leave the lights on . . .

Christian McDonald

Face of hell shimmering upon a scale contrasting money and drugs. The broken down substance of terror. Taming power and all the ways it can change a man. Would money or drugs change a man more? Only way you can discover it is to watch. Observe the future and tell me how many “successful” millionaires didn’t cross the bridge to the other side. They shoot up, snort or smoke those demons. The control is too tipsy. War, supported acts of evil over a cause. Pick a card: religion, oil, weapons, drugs, water. The chemical substance we actually needed and we fought over it. We’ve killed millions. Death from above never looked brighter. Brighter future for a twisted generation dripping down the drain. Day by day. We waste recyclable materials that can be bringing color to the future. Leading nature to its prime once as it existed before. But we blacken it with the pollution and destruction to our surroundings. The lack of respect makes me believe pollution is evil. Now standing on the bottom shelf of evil we have: our demons, war, money, and pollution.

-Christian McDonald

Haley Macray

“The Dress”

She sits, she stands, she walks with an air of grace.
She floats with wings of glass, shining in the light that always seems to hit her.
But look at her face. Don’t you see it?
Don’t you see the pain, how empty she is?
Maybe it’s the dress…
It’s delicate but it’s so strong.
Just like her.
Every layer of fabric, they’re layers of her.
Underskirts are the hidden part. The part she never wants to show anyone. Last time she let that happen she was broken into all the parts people see now.
The dress is so heavy. She had to learn to be strong. She needed to grow a shell.
That’s why when you see her she doesn’t look your way.
That’s why when you see her she walks with rigid shoulders.
It’s not her fault she acts this way.
It’s not her fault she’s ‘evil’.
Blame the dress.

-Celia Rosa

Untitled Poem

Pure seduction of crisscrossed negotiations
Linger in the dark, miscommunications
Tortured, buried, drowning in tears
Fainting heartaches
Can you be there?
Long lost relatives
an ironic glee?
works too hard
heartache for me
deadline, wrong line, where did you go?
I have to do it
or he’ll butcher my soul
your entity was me
I’m buried with glee
my eyelids are reeling
broken with dreams
black line red line
the negotiation is blurred
calling me over
the description is slurred
doesn’t it taste good?
Isn’t it great?
He went to hell
his fabulous hate
practice again and again
expectation forgotten
lift up your shirt girl
your persistence is rotten
ever closing cracks
the surface is new
but underneath are layers
mine are always blue

-Brianna Dern

“Would You Like More Tea?”

I took a seat across from Death, fidgeting as the voice escaped from its long beak.
“Would you like more tea?” Death offered me, long fingers wrapping around the teapot, ignoring the heat that radiated from it. The creature poured the cup and leaned forward so it might hand the cup to me. I took it, my own hands shaking and searing from the hot drink.
Death watched me, expecting something. I knew what it wanted. It wanted me to drink.
And I only did it out of common courtesy.
I brought the cup to my lips, letting the hot liquid flow into my mouth and down my throat.
I immediately began to cough, covering my mouth as the tea dribbled out. I felt my body spasm, and I soon found myself on the floor, writhing. My cheeks were red, my neck was red, my body felt red, I saw red.
The tea spilled over me as I lie on the floor, trying to breathe against my constricted throat. It squeezed shut, squeezing the last bit of fight I had left in me.
As I lay back, slowly losing the will to struggle, I looked up and looked at Death.
It cocked its head.
“Would you like more tea?”

-Jace Williams

Brian Huntress

“The Definition of Evil”

Evil is a concoction of hatred, anger, and rage mixed together in the brain and put into a syringe that is jammed into the soul. It slowly fills the soul and then fills every cell in the body. It changes who the user is. It makes that person do things that nobody would ever think possible. It makes a human inhumane.

-Sean Carney

SEE YOU IN YOUR NIGHTMARES!!!!!!!

-iStaff