Write Your Heart Out ツ discussion

I will post here from time to time.

Since all of my writing is on my other device, I'm only going to post a few things now. Here they come...

yay! lol

Just one of the prompt paragraphs...


The pond glittered benieth her, as she stared down at it. She stared at her reelection- the scarred face, the slight frown, the tear slipping quietly down her cheek. Her hand reaching down, she broke the image with her finger. This was why she like the pond- it nevered lied to her. The water told the truth of the world- the truth of people. It showed to her, that even when your looking in a glass reflection, you are always a little warped near the edges. And when you rippled it apart, it showed an even greater truth. The no matter who you are if you become broken its a little disorienting, but a little beautiful. In the end, the picture always came back into focus.She pushed back, walking away from the pond- to focus her life.

Another of the prompt paragraphs...

My hand drifts out, catching a piece of falling snow. Her hand closes around it and she holds it to her chest. She was tired- of life, of living. Snow, a sad thing it was, destined to fall and fall again. It was pure, yet it found its way to the least pure people. She almost laughed, her rib cage becoming visable as she leaned back and her shirt came up. Snow found it's way to her. Maybe it signalled something- a new change in her. And that day, something blossomed.

Last one...

My hand floated over the back door. This would be it, my last stand. This back door would mean I would be walking out forever. I would be gone- out of their life. I turned my eyes toward my family- well, my previous family. "Goodbye." My voice was dark and bitter, filled with no regret. Stepping forward, I stepped out. The door shut with a bang and a final click. This was goodbye.

A scene I wrote for Goodreads something or another

The fiery sun set the dark alley ablaze in the quiet evening. Each step was taken carefully, each small movement was thought about, over and over, until she knew it would be safe. Still, Miri made her way down the alleyway. She jumped slightly each time she heard her footsteps fall. One swift glance over her shoulder confirmed the always changing fact--no one was following her. She breathed out a sigh of relief, and then heard a small drip....plop... This cause the girl another glance over her shoulder. No walkers. Not yet.

This dull silence was torn apart by a racket of coughing. In an attempt to stiffle this, Miri pressed her sleeve tight to her her mouth. The coughs came, and seemed to go one forever. Then they dwindled to a small croak, then nothing at all. As the girl pulled away her sleeve from her mouth, she scanned it for any of the symptoms of the disease. No blood, She told herself. I have spared myself at least another day of life. No sooner than the thoughts had finished, another frazzled theory dripped into her mind like leaking water. Unless the walkers get me.

In a torrent of tangled brown hair, Miri whipped around, then breathed an audiable sigh. No walker was in her presence, and, thankfully, had not heard her uproar of coughs. She went on, walking down the alleyway, without as much care as before. Suddenly, her foot caught on something hard, and she felt the ground rushing at her-- fast. Upon instinct, she rolled over, hitting the ground with her shoulder, instead of her face. Miri pushed herself up, taking in a moment to glance at where her feet had carried her.

With a sharp gasp of breath, the girl realized where she was. She was where her brother was killed. By walkers. If that didn't scream karma, she didn't know what did. No. No. No! She felt her mind screaming as memories whirred into her brain. The same memories she had tried so hard to forget. Her brother ruffling her hair as they walked among the streets. Miri's quiet voice, asking if they would be safe...forever. She never go a reply, for that way the day her brother was killed.

Tears rushed down her cheeks, and she felt herself collapse to the ground.The emotions she had held back for so long where finally let out to roam free. One sound brought her back to reality. One small sound. The sound of her brother's laugh. Her head jerked up, and she could hear quiet, soft footsteps. Had her brother been alive all this long? Waiting for her to come back? She couldn't let her hopes rise high, but she just stood up slowly, and, taking her time, turned around.

What she saw was a horde of walkers, all staring at her with their glassy, lifeless eyes. In the front, she saw something that would be un-eraseable. It was a zombie, but it had the face of her brother. Sure, it was gruesome and ugly, but it was her brother. Her un-dead brother waved the rest away, which was probably his way of saying, 'Let me handle this one.' He took a step forward, his eyes scanning her. Miri couldn't help but be surprised, and all she was doing was standing their like a mute idiot.

He held out his hand. It is suprising how much a simple gesture can mean so much. To me, it meant: 'Come with me. You'll be dead, and lifeless, but we'll be together. I can still be your big brother as a zombie. Everything will be better.' He locked eyes with her, and for a second the girl almost relented. She could see the appeal of this, and Miri took a step forward, then faultered. "I-I can't."

Her brother tilted his head, then sensing what she meant, narrowed his eyes. Her brother's beautiful, emotional eyes, were steely and uncaring. He took a step forward, a animal-like growl rumbling in his throat. He stared at Miri, then shook his head. Then, the scariest thing of all: He spoke. "It's you or me, Miri." It sounded like metal screeching against metal, a scream in the night from a victom.

For a moment, she was puzzled. Then, it all clicked. It was either she join the horde, or Miri would have to do the impossible: Kill her brother. The only choice was clear, no matter how hard it was. So, slowly, Miri felt around to her gun, and held it in front her her. The look of suprise in her brother's eyes, tore her heart, but she had to remind herself that it was for the better. She was making the better choice. Wasn't she?

Miri took a deep breath, and locked her arms. One.... She planted her feet. Two...Three.. She aimed it at her ambling brother's heart. Four...Five....Six.. She squeazed the gun tight in her shaking hands. Seven...Eight.. She placed her finger on the trigger. Nine.....Ten. She fired.

The next moments happened in slow motion. Miri felt numb as she dropped her gun, and despite better actions, ran toward her brother. The bullet seemed to slow in air, then slowly sunk into her brothers heart. Right where she had aimed it. the zombie fell back, landing on his back, and Miri knelt down next to him. Tears poured out of her eyes, and down her dirty cheeks. Never in a million years would she have guessed she would have killed her brother to save herself. She pressed her hands onto the gaping wound, saying, "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry." Her sobs cut through her words, slowly, she used the blood to draw a heart on her brother's clothes, then on hers. They would be connected forever.

Then, she met her brother's eyes. They might be dull and lifeless, but they were still her brother's. She scanned his face, and for a moment, he looked almost human. The sight tore her heart into two. Then her brother opened his mouth, struggling for a breath. She leaned closer, her ear against his hard lips. He took another ragged breath, already slipping away, and used the last of his strength to breath out one single word.

"Why?"

Random scene..

Death followed me around like a starved girl followed the scent of food.

My first encounter with this force was when I was born. My mother, upon having me, died. It was sad, but what did I know? All I could do was eat, cry, and sleep. Every pet I had after that only survived for about a week. The longest any of my pets was Dally, my little puppy who lasted for a whopping 14 days before she was hit by a car. As a young child, I assumed this was bad fate, an accident. Or, more likely, I assumed nothing at all. It just happened.

(More will come later..)

Herg. Miri's story was longer than I thought. ://

I love Miri's story!!! it is SO amazing, plz post more! :D
is it posted somewhere else?

Actually that is all of Miri's story. :/

She is on a zombie roleplay group, amd I had to create a scene to get her immune... and yeah.

I could make more possibly..

But it's kinda like a short story...

okay
anyway I really like it:)

Thanks :)

This is a post in one of my Roleplays. It may be hard to understand since it was written way into the plot. Sooo....

Faith was running. Running from Daredes. More specifically the memories of the girl. A sigh fell from her lips, trying to make the troubles slid through and out of her tangled hair like the wind. This was the special feeling that always came to her as she ran. Everything troublesome fell from her, as her feet pounded aainst the pavement. And besides, she had to get out of thehideout sometime, not just for her health, though. It seemed that even the house was cluttered with memories of her dead friend. Everywhere from the couch to the kitchen to the bathroom. Good lord, the bathroom was always the worst. The pills, the scars, the exercise band. It all had Dare written all over it.

As if on cue, her scars began to ache. She had wanted to match her friend, as if some part of her would live on through these everlasting things. But, no, honestly, they caused more pain and trouble than happy memories. She turned down an alleyway, then stopped dead. "Oh, lord no." She muttered, her head shaking, and her lip quivering. There was the store Dare had died in, the building she had laid her in. A single tear fell down her cheek, and that was all it took.

The memories came slow at first, then they rushed at her as if they were fighting for attention. It was killing Faith on the inside. She crumpled to the ground, sobbing, albeit quietly. She then leaned her back against the wall, then looked up, trying to stop the tears and the memories. Pulling her knees to her chest, the hit the ground with her fist a few times. "Pull it together Faith, stop it. Stop it. Stop it." She growled to herself, then she remembered something.

As a little girl, whenever Faith started to cry, her mother would softly sing 'Oh My Darlin', Clementine.' Something about that song calmed her, and set her at ease. Over the years, it had become her favorite song. A bekon on warmth, light, safety, and familiarity. Her sobs softening, she began to sing, knowing this, in some extraordinary way, would help. "Oh my darlin, oh my warping," She started softly, "Oh my darlin," Raising her voice on the last word, it sounded almost as if she was calling a name. "Clementine."

aw, that's really good!

And don't worry, for the most part, it makes sense.

Thanks!

I just really liked it when I wrote it and decided to post it here.

Ignore that random warping instead of darlin at the end. Autocorrect

haha you're on mobile, then?

I was when I originally wrote that. Not now, though. :)

so you can edit it now?:)

I put smileys a lot

Yeah I can edit, but it's so funny, so I'm going to pass

okay haha

Yepp. ;)

Prompting Paragraphs! This one is...eh

The cookie or the cream? It really depends on what kind of person you are. Me, the bubbly, sweet, I love everyone type of girl, would go with the cream. They tend to be the people who hold everything together. They are the people who make the world seem ten times better. Yet, if taken alone, they may seen over-sweet and too good. But, together. Together with the bitter, cynical cookie. Now that, that is chemistry

Another Paragraph!

I had thought that I could knit. Well, not anymore. I was putting a bandage on my finger- who knows how I got this injury. Looking at my lopsided scarf, I knew I couldn't give this to anyone as a gift. Especially my prestigious family. Bundled it in my arms, and walked down the street. While waiting for a bus to go get something from a store for my family I noticed a girl staring at me. She had dark hair, dark circles under her eyes, and thick eyelner. I gave her a smile and handed her my horrible scarf- at least it would go somewhere. "You want it?" She took it with a suprised look and a smile.

Little did I know that the ugly scarf had saved that girl's life.

Anyone think I should make a wattpad or re-make my Liza story but put a different name and change up the plot a little?

Not that I have much up, but my Quotev name is Song Lyric Junkie.

? Can I help you.

lol

Thanks. C: I need to write more, but I have temporarily (until tommorrow) lost everything I have done since the sixth grade. Sooo yeah. I'm just waiting for a new computer with all my stuff on it since my old one crashed.

@Kiula- I guess 'Bro' is your word of the day? lolzzzz

[Random thing. I have inspiration. I may not finish it today..]

I told them. I told them I was going to die. Did that make them believe any more? Did it make them hate me any less? I'm assuming you can figure out the answer to that. I knew all the signs. The signs of death. I could feel it as it floated around me, sucking the life out of me. Death loved me. We had had a very complex relationship. It would take someone from me, I would bare it. After a while, I got immune to its constant blows trying to demoralize me.

That was, until death got bored. A greedy thing, death. It takes and takes, and never gives. Once you find a way to make yourself not afraid of death, it'll come back at your harder. It did this to me, except, I didn't feel anything. Until death decided to make people around me dead inside. It is a scary thing to see corpses up and walking. The ones that lash out at you, the ones so dehumanized they become violent animals. But, soon, even that becomes nothing to you. Nothing but a daily routine.

Until death decides to attack you. It simply got tired of our relationship so he set it ablaze, pulling himself fully into it. I was dying. And this time. Well, this time, staying quiet, and being immune wouldn't help. Death had finally found my weakest link.

Myself.

Oh, wow. I love this! Good job! I'd be interested to see where you take this if you expanded it.

[Something different.]

Never had I felt something like this. With every touch, I became more and more scared. With every fright I was pulled closer and closer. Nothing else was ever like this. It was all sweet and innocence. Now, it seemed all innocence had gone. As blown away as my breath after our first kiss. Why hadn't the others been like this? He wasn't bad, more of forbidden to me. He was, well, not the normal. Everything he said made me smile. A devilish smile. Gosh, how I had changed with him.

Why was I scared of him? It was hard to say. He was as unpredictable as I was inexperienced in love. He talked in riddles, ones that were impossible to understand. Yet, I knew what he meant. Maybe it was the way he sqeazed my hand just a little too tight. The way my breath would be just a little to heavy after each kiss.

Could it be possible I had found my true love? The one who I would never expect to even send a second glance at a girl like me? The one who was perfect in every way possible.

Then, I woke up.

[Sorry guys. I'm in a little bit of a downer mood... so depressinggg stuff is a comin']

Za-za wrote: "Oh, wow. I love this! Good job! I'd be interested to see where you take this if you expanded it."

Hehe thanks. Inspiration struck me at around midnight, soo... here I am.

niiiiiiiice...luv both of them

Thankss. <33

yep:)

[I'm thinking of a name for this one... any suggestions help. (Btw: it won't be finished)]

It was all about freedom. I was sure I had enough. Everyone always talked about the good girls breaking. I never did. I never do. My smile never leaves my face. Never, ever. Freedom was the key peice in the great big book of my life. All I was, was free, free, free.

I was always inside the lines. The only time I ever tasted a bit of wild freedom, just a small gulp of the air most people so desperately breathed in, was when I rode my bike. My perfect blonde hair, as I flew down the hills. It was perfect, on my dirty pink bike. An angel on broken wings. I was wild, I was free. My hands stayed gripped on the handlebars. Never too much of freedom. And yet I never had enough.

Until the one day I decided to forego my 'just enough freedom'. Done one hill, I let go. My hands rose, as I flew down the hill, being held up by some imaginary force. I was golden. Until the world decided to punish me for wanting this freedom. When the world decided it no longer wanted me, and it decided to chew me up and spit me out. Under a car.

How to describe death? It all happened so fast. A moment of pain, the moments of red. Biting your lip to make it go away. Then, the numbness. This lasts the longest. In reality, it is only a few seconds, or in my case, a few moments. I thought over everything. My life. My freedom. If I had only held on. If I had only held on.

This thought ruled my mind as the numbness faded into nothingness, and I slowly left.

Until one wakes up again, with no pain at all.

Wait. I don't think that was supposed to happen.

whoa- what?? you can't end it like that! What happens?????????????????????????????????????????????

XD its going to be a story, don't worry. It doesn't end there. I'm afraid, though, I need sleep. So I'll update tomorrow maybe.

#sorryboutthecliffhanger

oh okay, Well good night, if you're going to sleep now.

That's so good! I love it.

Thanks guys. u///u

That's awesome!

u///u You guys are making me blush.

Ur welcome but seriously you should write and if u ever do I'll love to read your books anytime cause I appreciate good writers :-)

Awww thanks.

Whatever story I had going on before cont.

I sat up quickly, the feeling that someone was smashing my brains with a hammer waving over me. Honestly, one could say that I felt like death. Which is techinically true, since I was just dead. Or at least I thought. I had just died, hadn't I? I remembered it all the clear. The bike, my hands letting go of the handle bars, then the car. Actually, more like me under the car.

Sitting up, my head swam, it took me a moment to get used to my surroundings. The room was dark and black. Definitely not my room. Was I in some in between place of the afterlife? I lifted my hand, smaking my own cheek. It left a stinging red mark, and yes it did hurt. So I was alive. And not dead.

Maybe that's how it works now. Or maybe because I'd always been compared to an angel I was being treated like one. Who knew.

Out of an old, nervous habit, I ran my tongue over my upper lip. It snagged on something. Something metal. In my lip. That definitely wasn't there before. I swung my legs over the bed, walked unsteadily over to the mirror near the end of this unfamilar room. The pounding of my head only increased at what I saw.

No more perfect blonde hair. It was black, and cut short and in layers. My eyes were no longer blue, they were golden, around them in thick, smudged eyeliner. I had a flawed face. It was smeared with makeup, and was narrow. My body was now too thin, too bony. As I looked down, there were cuts on my wrists. What had happened to me? No, it wasn't me. I recognized the face.

It was Lyra. The typical emo girl at school. She had been out about a week ago (or at least a week before my death), in life support. I was now her. And I had no clue why.

But I definitely wasn't the angel I was before.

No, not an angel now.

Demon.

[How do ya' like it? I think.I'm calling it Arms of and Angel.

Fun fact: I thought of this after a stupid car almost hit me when I was on my bike and I had to swerve and took this huge chunk of skin out of my finger. :/]

I can relate to the first part. that's perfectly stated. GR is my escape

that's a great story!! but...ow