✎ Just Keep Writing ✐ discussion

So, I shall post tales of magellicalness here xD Okay, lawl no. So basically just short stories, random crap, etc.


{Rules and Warnings}

-I am thirteen, and have never taken a writing class or anything. So don't judge me if my writing absolutely sucks.

-You may post here, but please don't spam >.<

-Feedback would be much appreciated

-Some stories may be "triggering"

And that's all.

{More Rules}


-No copying/stealing/plagiarizing. 'Cos guess what, it's illegal. ILLEGAL. It's unoriginal, and ridiculous. Just don't do it >.<

-Also, for a while i'm on mobile and these short random stories are going to have spelling mistakes and crap and it's hard to type so i'm sorry :P

Mistakes
There will be swearing, may be 'triggering' and is based off a true story.

"I hate her!" I let out a choked sob, shoulders shaking. Well, my whole body shaking. Everything was a mistake, this was a mistake. I should have never been born, never should have been adopted and taken to fucking America. America, screw America.

What did I hate about America? Okay, I guess it's not really America I hate, but the people. Ugh, people. The human race is so damn stupid, I just want to magically turn into an animal so I don't have to deal with the shame that i'm a person.

I've lost faith in the human race many years ago..even as a little girl, I got a little sad when I saw construction going on somewhere in a place that have could have been beautiful. The ugly giant machines groaning and the piled dirt. The orange signs, yellow caution tape wrapping around the site..it just made me turn away and close my eyes until I didn't have to see the horrid scene.

I tried not to cry, but it was kind of hard. My vision was blurry, tears swimming in my eyes, and I was already getting congested, and it was hard to breathe. Sharp intakes of breath, hot tears threatening to spill...oh, how I hated crying.

I'm such a baby, so sensitive, and too fragile. Like glass...a shard of glass broken off from a vase. Yup, that's me.

As I muttered incoherent words in shear anger, finally the tears started to spill. One by one, the hot tears sliding down my cheek, some dripped off my face, some landing in my mouth. I try not to gag at the salty, gross taste. Yuck.

"Bitch!" I mumbled. Who was I referring to? My mother, or myself? I think both.

Suddenly, my door flew open - so hard, that it smacked the wall. Everything else happened in a flash, so fast I could barely react.

My mother, angry and fuming, marched up to me, and screamed,"BITCH?!" She stepped closer, while I, like the coward I was, stepped back."BITCH?!" Before I knew she smacked me on the head...hard. Five times, at the least. I didn't exactly keep count, I was too busy feeling numb. Yes, I barely felt the vicious slaps delivered by my furious mother.

She grabbed my arm, gripping it tightly and basically dragged me out of the room, and down the stairs. This was humiliating, I wonder if the neighbors heard. They wouldn't care, though. Nobody did.

"WHO TAUGHT YOU THESE WORDS, HUH?!" She shrieked at me. The words stung more than the slaps. Of course they did. Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will cut into my heart.

"YOUR SISTER NEVER CURSED, I NEVER CURSED, YOUR FATHER NEVER CURSED!" My mother continued on.


Wrong. Wrong. My older sister cursed all the time, but was smarter than I. She only cursed when mother wasn't around. My father, I guess she's right on that. But her...well, my mom says "hell," and "damn," and "asshole," all the time.

"SO WHY DO YOU!?"

I didn't reply, obviously. It was never clever to talk back to my mom. Not at all.

My mother shoved me mercilessly into a chair, glaring with pure hatred. Disdain, disappointment.

She ranted on, yelling every little word at me. I stopped listening a while ago, rude, I know. But I was too busy trying not to cry.

Cry at my stupidness, my idiocy, my mistake.

Though, it's pretty obvious now that i'm the mistake.

Oh my gosh.
I'm speechless. This is just beautiful.

Really? Thank you :))

I can't even like say anything. Its just perfect.
Like novel worthy.
For frikin 13 this is like INSANE good
just wow.
bravo lol XD

@ Lee wow, thanks :o :DDD

@ Wind exactly.

And I know...I keep remembering what happened and other memories I don't want to know and gah

*sigh* Right? :/

Yah :DD

Pain

Wrote this at 2 am, so don't judge.

I love pain.

Pain is like a drug to me. I am addicted, and ten years from now, I still will be.


Something about it just calls to me.

Maybe it's the feeling I get when I am suffering the torture I put myself through.

Pain wakes me up. I'll be in zombie depressed mode, when suddenly, the sharp searing sting on my wrist snaps me out of my numb feeling. Pain reminds me that I can still feel, that i'm capable of experiencing emotions. That i'm still alive.

Without pain, I have to deal with the numbness. The emptiness. I'm not strong enough for that. I need an emotion. I need a feeling, strong and coursing through me.

Without pain, I am a lost ugly duckling.

I feel like I deserve this pain. I do though, don't I? I deserve writing on my arms, pouring my heart and soul into words on thin, weak, anorexic arms. I deserve covering the words up with dark sleeves. I deserve the pain of yearning to just simply pull the sleeves up and show the world how I truly feel. I deserve it all.

For I am a bad person, and bad people deserve bad things. Right?

Pain is everywhere. Just in different forms. We all experience it, but in different ways.

Some cry, some scream. Most are afraid.

But, I am not. I no longer despise pain with a burning passion.

Instead, I welcome it like an old friend.

Nobody

I am a Nobody. I am a mere shadow. A shadow that follows all, knows all, but no one knows. I am the one who hears everything, but never speaks.

The one who sits on the sidelines, observing silently.

I am the falling rain that few enjoy as I fall just for them, while the rest ignore.

I am the very being you will take for granted. The girl holding the door for you. But one day, do you hear me? - one day, there will be no girl holding the door for you. That girl - that Nobody will be long gone.

And transform into the girl who lets doors fall in your face.

She'll be a somebody, one day.



One day.

Silence

Silence is an evil being.

You see, Silence is trying to have the weak ones destroy their selves.

Only the weak and the broken.

The others are a friend of Silence. Some greet him like a friend, some don't mind his presence at all.

But, I do. I mind.

Only the weak and the broken. I repeat, only the weak. Only the broken.

I am one of them.

I am weak, and I am broken.

Silence is a friend of the Mind, too. Once all is quiet and still, the mind takes our weak selves into a world of evil thoughts.

It just breaks us even more; it chips away the remaining pieces. Until we give in, and blast the loud, pulsing music, driving the Silence and Madness away.

"Why do you always listen to music?" An innocent child asked me one day, looking up a me, big round eyes curious. I wish I could save this child from the future...the depression he would face one day, the sadness he will go through. I wish I could save him.

"I am weak, and I am broken. I depend on music to save me rom the Madness. Without it, I am giving in to the Silence. Without music, I am nothing."

The boy blinked, not understanding. Oh, he'll understand one day.

"Promise me you will not depend on music, please. Promise me you will not be like me." It was useless to ask, but I needed to convince myself that I tried to help this kid, prepare him for the future.

These pieces are incredible! They make me feel so much agh
you are so talented!

Thank you o_o :DDD

They're great! I really don't know what else to say since everybody else has said all that needs to be said. These are just wonderful.

Wow, thank you..i didn't think anyone would like these :)

You're welcome. :D

{Walking Dead Fanfiction}

"Shhhh." He whispered, crouching to the ground like a panther stalking its prey. The man was still, and unmoving, with a young girl crouched besides him.

"What are we waiting for?" The girl next to her father asked. She knew little about Walkers - flesh-eating monsters, but all she knew was that they murdered her mother.

"The right time." The man replied, looking down at his daughter's innocent, naive face.

"When's the right time?"

"When-," Ping. An arrow shot out of the crossbow, hitting a Walker straight in the eye.

"That's the right time." he finished, standing up and walking over to the "dead" Walker.

The girl followed cautiously, still terrified of the evil monster.

"Don't worry, he won't bite."

"It's still alive," her lip trembled as she stared emotionlessly at the thing,"i want it dead."

"It's already dead, Annabanana."Antonia's father said gently, pulling the arrow out of the eye.

"You know what I mean!" Antonia - or Anna, exclaimed, her light, literally dirty, blonde hair was pulled into a high ponytail as she fidgeted.

Anna's dad sighed, pointing his crossbow at the snarling Walker.

"Wait,"she looked at her father, a hard look in her eye,"let me."

"Anna.."

"Please."

Antonia's dad complied and handed his crossbow over.

The crossbow felt natural in the twelve year old girl's hand. She adjusted her grip, and got ready.

"Aim for the head."

And so she did.

These are all super amazing. I love your style, it is so suspenseful!

Thank you! : D

[ Unsent Letters ]

Dear fifth grade self,

Remember that day in science? You researched an inventor. Elijah Otis, I believe. The class all did a project on a different person. Everyone set up at a station in the room, and half of the class just walked around and looked at people's projects, while the other half presented to anybody who was walking around.


You were near the window. You stood there, slightly afraid to present to people. When it started, two guys walked up to your station, and read your project. You had these notecards to read off of, and you spoke so softly. Nobody could hear you. The boys had to ask you to speak louder, and you did. But they still could not understand.

You were afraid what people would think of your project. But that's normal. That's what anybody would be afraid of. Presentations are scary.

I just want you to know, that when you reach sixth grade, be ready for depression, a horrible fear of rejection, and the feeling of insecurity. You were afraid of what people would think of your project, but in sixth grade and beyond, you're going to be afraid of what people will think of you.

Sincerely,

8 grade Meiyu

Dearest ______ (aka arrogant asshole boy from gym class in sixth grade),

You're a fucking asshole. I hate you more than I hate hamburgers, so go freaking screw yourself you idiot.

Hey, remember in sixth grade? Gym class, last period of the day? D'ya remember those two loser girls? The short Asian chick and the other girl with brown hair and glasses? Remember them?

Yeah?

Ring any bells?

Good.

You bullied the brown-haired girl, you know. But assholes like you don't remember being jerks to girls like us. Assholes like you...well, it just comes naturally. It's natural to bully loser people like us.

But you were horrible to her, you know. To Alexandra.

I hope you fucking pay for that, one day. I would make you pay, by beating your ass to the ground, but, i won't. Let life do that. Life is a bitch sometimes. (most times, actually)

In sixth grade, I wasn't tough or as...violent as I am now. I was a shy quiet-spoken chick who didn't defend my only friend. Yeah, I was a bitch like that.

But if I could fucking go back in time, I would freaking kill. you. and you'd regret it all.

Okay, no, you wouldn't. You're a stubborn d*ck like that.

I still see you in the halls of school, sometime. You wouldn't see the little weak girl from sixth grade anymore, would you? No, you wouldn't. If you even notice a loser like me, you'll see the anger and violence in my eyes. Maybe you see my hands clenched into fists and my eyes shooting a death glare at your stupid face.

I doubt someone like you would notice someone like me, but next time, in the hallway next to Mrs. Zs room (the seventh grade math teacher for pre al) look at me and I hope you remember Alexandra and freaking feel sorry for what you fucking did.

She moved to Arizona. At least she doesn't have to see your fucking ugly arrogant face anymore. That's good about the move.

So, asshole, carry on with taking pictures of your "abs" and posting them on instagram. Arrogant douchebag.

With lots of hate and violence,

Meiyu

The rushing sound of water matched the speed of her pounding heart.

As she stumbled down the isolated bridge, the sun began to set. The sky - painted in brilliant shade of reds, orange, and pink, seemed to know exactly what Anna Chambers planned to do. The sky was giving her one last beautiful moment. Painting its canvas gorgeously for her one last time.

Anna's thin. wiry legs shook terribly as she cautiously climbed over the wide railing. Once she did so, the girl sat on the edge.

"Mom, i'm sorry." Her voice was easily drowned out by the howling wind and water, but still, she continued on. "I was a horrible daughter, and you deserved better." A single tear fell. Down, down, down her cheek. "Dad, wherever you are...i'm sorry too." The tears came freely and faster now, running down her pale cheeks. Anna began reciting every mean girl's name, every person who had back-stabbed her, and every bully's name. "You all got what you wanted." They told her to go kill herself, every day; and so she would.

Anna was done living. She was done pretending with a fake mask covering the real emotions. She was tired. So indescribably tired, that not even sleep could cure.

No more hot tears at two in the morning. No longer would Anna have to drag a gleaming across her wrist. No scars, no pain. No more, no more.

Maybe Anna was being selfish. Or maybe not. No one would care anyway, it didn't matter. Not one person needed her...not now, not ever.

Anna wanted to fly. She wanted to venture in to the unknown, and leave the known. The ugly, horrible world. The planet with dark hearted, malicious humans inhabiting it. Good riddance to you, earth. You won't be missed.

A man strolled down the bridge, oblivious to the fact that in approximately twenty-five seconds, he'd see an event that would haunt him for life. He'd see a girl poised to jump into the deep, deep water.

Anna rose to her feet slowly, balancing on the thick railing. She looked down at the waves and water. A deep breath, a silent goodbye, and-

"Hey, girl, wait!" The man ran as fast he could possibly go, eyes widened in fright.

The witness was far too late, however..for she was already flying.