Caution: This thread will likely make you sad.

This is a million times better than the old "depressing thread". But now I'm sad thinking about that one, so I guess this thread title is true as well... :(
 
I felt the poor spelling was a nice touch to help reinforce the youth/innocence of the protagonist. This was a pretty good read. Seems almost like an allegory.
 
for me the saddest part was the whole pokemon battle thing. the contrast between the happening of not only finding a potential friend, but actually beating another trainer, and what happened after it was too much for me. in the other ones the sadness levels are like constant, but this one just goes from great to fucking awful.

I'd probably die if someone crushed a Pokemon cartridge. when i was a kid
 
Tubaking said:
I felt the poor spelling was a nice touch to help reinforce the youth/innocence of the protagonist.
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I felt that it could have been better portrayed by hand writing the text, with a sort of childish font. Not that many children even type/ talk like that.

I might just re-do this because honestly this story deserves a bit better than ms paint
 
Seen that before RG, but goddaaaaamn.

God

DAAAAAAAAAAAMN.

Also Wickdaggler I swear to fucking god if you lay a finger on this piece of sex I will personally rip your throat out through your ass.

That's like remaking the Mona Lisa

only I actually like this.

Like, 'okay the painting's good'

'but wouldn't it be better if it was like... Susan Coffey or something?'

coffeylisa.png
 
BAAAAAAAAAAAAAWWWWWWWWWWW

Wow man, between the OP and Animal Crossing, I actually felt my throat tighten up as if I were going to cry. I don't even know what to do now.
 
the OP was like 7/10 sad but the goddamn animal crossing one gets me every fucking time. i can't fathom anything ever being more sad.
 
Because this seems to be becoming a 'depressing things thread', here's Ugly the Cat for all you broken hearts out there.

Everyone in the apartment complex I lived in knew who Ugly was. Ugly was the resident tomcat. Ugly loved three things in this world: fighting, eating garbage, and, shall we say, love.
The combination of these things combined with a life spent outside had their effect on Ugly. To start with, he had only one eye and where the other should have been was a hole. He was also missing his ear on the same side, his left foot appeared to have been badly broken at one time, and had healed at an unnatural angle, making him look like he was always turning the corner.

Ugly would have been a dark gray tabby, striped type, except for the sores covering his head, neck, and even his shoulders. Every time someone saw Ugly there was the same reaction. “That’s one UGLY cat !”

All the children were warned not to touch him, the adults threw rocks at him, hosed him down, squirted him when he tried to come in their homes, or shut his paws in the door when he would not leave. Ugly always had the same reaction.

If you turned the hose on him, he would stand there, getting soaked until you gave up and quit. If you threw things at him, he would curl his lanky body around your feet in forgiveness.

Whenever he spied children, he would come running, meowing frantically and bump his head against their hands, begging for their love.

If you ever picked him up he would immediately begin suckling on your shirt, earrings, whatever he could find.

One day Ugly shared his love with the neighbor’s dogs. They did not respond kindly, and Ugly was badly mauled. I tried to rush to his aid. By the time I got to where he was laying, it was apparent Ugly’s sad life was almost at an end.

As I picked him up and tried to carry him home, I could hear him wheezing and gasping, and could feel him struggling. It must be hurting him terribly, I thought.

Then I felt a familiar tugging, sucking sensation on my ear. Ugly, in so much pain, suffering and obviously dying, was trying to suckle my ear. I pulled him closer to me, and he bumped the palm of my hand with his head, then he turned his one golden eye towards me, and I could hear the distinct sound of purring.

Even in the greatest pain, that ugly battled scarred cat was asking only for a little affection, perhaps some compassion. At that moment I thought Ugly was the most beautiful, loving creature I had ever seen. Never once did he try to bite or scratch me, try to get away from me, or struggle in any way. Ugly just looked up at me completely trusting in me to relieve his pain.

Ugly died in my arms before I could get inside, but I sat and held him for a long time afterwards, thinking about how one scarred, deformed little stray could so alter my opinion about what it means to have true pureness of spirit, to love so totally and truly.

Ugly taught me more about giving and compassion than a thousand books, lectures, or talk show specials ever could, and for that I will always be thankful. He had been scarred on the outside, but I was scarred on the inside, and it was time for me to move on and learn to love truly and deeply. To give my total to those I cared for.

Many people want to be richer, more successful, well liked, beautiful, but for me…I will always try to be Ugly.
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Classic.
 
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