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Murderer (Give it a chance)I am running away from him. I don’t dare look back. I am the survivor, and he is my enemy. I am Kelly Jenson I am fourteen. I am running away from the murderer that killed my mother.
She was only thirty-two, too young to die. I have no other family now, just me; I know I can’t stop running. I know that if I do he will kill me too. He kills out of fear and my mother taught me to never show a killer fear, mask it. That’s how you will escape.
I don’t know where to go; I just know that if I keep running I will be safe. I finally take a rest at the end of a hollow tree. I hear the crackling of leaves under the shoes of the murder so I am bolting through the forest. Now is the time to mask me fear because he are getting very close. I fell the tears rolling down my cheek I know now is not the time so I wipe then away quickly. I hear the words in my head, “mask your fear and you will be safe” over and over. I hear a wisp of wind from the bullet that just flew past my right shoulder. Now I know he is armed and closer than ever. I start sprinting now though the forest I feel my heart pounding out of my chest but all I can do is not ever look back and keep running. Braches and thorns are cutting every part of my body but I can’t worry about that now. Just to mask my fear and run.
ScreamingDown below me you can hear my parents fighting again. As usually my dad comes home dunk. My mom is yelling at him the only thing you can here over her loud screams is the shatter of glass plate hitting the window. My dad’s yelling back at her this usually goes on for hours at a time and the only thing I can do is stay out of it. I want to go down there and say if you guys really loved me you wouldn’t fight for once!! Instead I craw under my covers and try to get some rest I have school tomorrow. The next day comes and goes all I do is come home to either my mom yelling or my dad sitting on the couch with a beer in his hand. Are family never talk only argues or if we do talk it’s me saying hi how was your day with no response form my parents.
My name is Emma West and I am 13 years old I live here Manhattan, New York with my mom Julie and my dad Mark and my 1 year old beagle mix scruffy. It’s raining now but my parent don’t care all they want to do is argue.
Life Ok well I am sorry to say but now is the time and I hafe to tell my parents I am ahead out on my own I am not sure how its gonig to go..
"Mom. dad. I hafe to tell you something sit down..... I am gonig to go out on my own I love you guys so much but its my time I'm leaving tommrow I hope you understand." I say then wait. The day comes and I am off I have the freedom I want but I fell like something not right. Then at 3:00pm I get a call my dads been in a accident. When I anwser my mom is sobing, "honey come home right now!" so in tht spilt second I am back on a plane flying back home. My mom says to meet at mercy hospital I arive there and my dad dosent look in good condistion. I ask the docter is he gonig to make it.. he says he dosent know. I walk over to my dads bed side. DAD! DAD! I scream please dont leave me!! BY then the docter has left and me and my mom are left alone with my dad. "Mom how did this happen?" I ask. "I dont know he left at 12:00 to go to the store the an 2 hours later I get a call that hes been in a accident." thats when I called you. Now all we can do is wait. Nureses would walk in the room ever once and a while to cheeck he vidle and things but they dont say a word to us. Its now 8:00pm and the docter says we need to leave and lets dad get some rest then the docter walks out of the room. My mom and I grabe are things and on the way out I kiss my dad I love you I say then leave my mom dose the same. On the drive home theres silence the only nosie you here is the soft monter. Then I speak up, "Mom I say are you ok?" She anwsers in and little bit of an angery tone, "NO dear i am fine" Right then I new something was up. When we get home I run up to my bed room sit there on my old bed holding a pictrue of my dad crying. Then i whisper under my breath plesase! plesase! just make it though the night. Then I lay I the pictrue down and try to fall asleep. The next day is here and insted of beging in school right now I am at the hospital sitting there waiting for my dad to move blink or something but so far nothing. I hear a knock at the door its the docter hes says, "I am sorry but we work on your dad all night and..." NO! NO! dont say it my mom yells! "Hes dead isnt he?" I say already starting to sob. "Yes I am very sorry" the docter says then leaves. "Mom are you ok?" "Shut up! leave now." she yells but I was.. LEAVE she yells again I walk out. I sit there outside of the door sobing then my mom comes out says, "honey I am sooo sorry come back in I just needed time." Dont worry I get it I say with a smile. Now what well I guess we need to arrenge a funrol for him she my mom says. Mom do you need a hug I ask? Oh come here she squezzs her so tight but she dosent mine. Come on lets go home honey we have work to do. on my way out of his room when my moms not there I lay the pictrue of him and I on his chest then I whisper I love you and thanks for loving me and then walk thought to the car still sobbing.
((Who likes? lol))
((I hope this is not too long to post here. This is a story I wrote during my last semester for my Bachelors in my Fiction Workshop class. By far this is my favorite story I have ever written. I do hope you all enjoy it as much as I do.))My First Date
I was visiting for only a week or so. Had a camp thing over the summer and was spending my last few days in Maine with some family friends until my flight home. As I am recalling, I can’t remember exactly where it was, but it was a small island near Portland, connected by a small rode. Their house was beautiful, large, open, artistic. I loved it. But their house isn’t want I want to talk about. I want to talk about one night in particular.
We went on a walked, with their dog (a rambunctious and intelligent black Labrador). It was a trip to the mail box, which was at the end of the road, about a mile away. I don’t know exactly what time it was, but I would guess around 9 pm. The air smelled of honey dew. It was a warm night, maybe a long sleeve shirt to be perfectly comfortable. And there was a light mist about the air. A lovely change from the dry Colorado climate. As we strolled at a pleasantly ponderous pace, light conversation was made which I can scarcely remember—because soon after we left the familiarity of their long drive way, the jazz music began to bloom. The baritone toad and falsetto cricket began to serenade the twilight. The air reminisced of the grass swaying next to the pond, where the frog sambaed and the grasshopper tangoed. Not long after this symphony opened did the fireflies join the performance. Not that I counted, but as I imagine it now there were about 36. They whirled and twirled, weaving in and out of the tall grass along the side of the gravel road. As they passed you could catch a glimpse of the white pine, which restrained the coy courtly cobalt wood. If you can believe it, I had never seen fireflies before. At least not in real life, I had only read about their playful ambiance in fairy tales. The dog was even getting a kick out of it, as he jumped and danced trying to steal one out of the air between his teeth. While it might sounds a bit dramatic, I was entranced by the atmosphere. I was a 15 year old girl who found herself transported to the fairy tales she had always played out in her dreams. Their casual conversation floated away, catching a hold of the notes in the wind. I wasn’t shy in announcing my enthrallment in the gaiety either. My ohh’s and ahh’s added a background harmony to the singing silent spectacle. It was silent, yet musical, it was shining but rayless, it was brilliant, while being subdued. Not only did the fireflies twinkle for us, the stars had never been so bright. The only constellation I have ever been able to pick out of the sky with a drop of the hat is Orion’s belt. I know, for most people it is one of the dippers, but I couldn’t point one of those out to you if I tried. Anyhow, I saw it that night as clear as day, or maybe not as clear as day. Moreover, the orchestra of the toad and the cricket, and entertainment provided by the fireflies, was perfectly accented with the masterpiece in the night sky. I was being romanced by him, by Orion. He flirted with me from his thrown up in the galaxy. And, oh how I was seduced. If I could have run off with him that night, I certainly would have. I was a Cinderella and I found my prince charming.
I had pondered this idea before. Running away, and with Orion to keep me warm at night I always knew I would be okay, if only I could reach him. Looking up at Orion, seeing him wink at me, it all took me back, back to my ‘city’ version of this fantasy kingdom back home. For me, back home, my nights were spent looking at my city in the sky. In Denver, if you are in the right spot, you can see Lookout Mountain. On top there are towers, not sure exactly what they are for, but something like cell phone or television towers. Anyhow, they have red lights on them, for planes I presume. And below the three or four towers there are a few buildings and lamp posts that emit a white light. When the air is chill, and the night is clear and especially dark the mountain becomes as black as the sky and the lights appear suspended in air. I discovered this when I was probably 6 or so, driving west down 6th avenue past the hour any normal child my age should have been up. From then on this has been my city in the sky. As I have gotten older and starred across the grass field in the park, where the kids play soccer, I let myself imagine that there really was no mountain below, and that the lights really are a city, floating on a cloud. When I would be out, late at night, I would dream of my city in the sky, and how the streets would sparkle there, every night. How fairies would come and turn them on, their wands drawn as the sun set. I could hear the night come alive; with everything begging to make music, the cars engines became the rumble undertone, as the horns became the snare. Footsteps created the beat, undefined voices and laughter were the lyrics, and the city sang with wonder. This is why Christmas has always been my second favorite holiday.
I could care less about the gifts, and the whole religious thing, did you know Jesus, if there really was a Jesus, wasn’t even born on December 25. Anyway, I love Christmas because the streets and houses are adorned with stars. On the nights I choose to wander the streets instead of listen to my drunk mother I would find myself standing at the end of the 16th street mall, gazing as far as I could see through the canopy of white angel wings, keeping the tree branches warm until after the New Year. Drifting away under my canopy, with images of my city in the sky dancing like sugar plums in my head, I would occasionally look up and see Orion wink at me, comforting me under his blanket of crystals, however dim compared to the night sky I saw that night in Maine.
No, Orion looked extravagant that night. While he loved to show off for me back home, he never got to put himself on display for me like he did in this slumberous town. After we got back, my friends headed inside and I sat out on their boat dock. A thin runway of wooden planks that stretched out into the little inlet bay. We danced, me and Orion, on the dock that night. We danced to the music of the pond. He had always had my heart, but that night our love had never been deeper, our friendship never stronger, and the organ that pumped my blood, it had never been so soft, moving my red and white velvet cells, the warmest they had ever felt. That night I felt as though I arrived at my happily ever after.
I am not sure how I got there, but I woke up in the bed they had set up in their guest room for me. It was rich with softness, like none I had ever slept in. As I stirred and realized were I was I snuggled back under my covers, hoping to recapture the dreams I was having about the night before. With no such luck I was able to lure myself out of bed at the sight of the warm white bathrobe hanging on the closet door. I made my way down the stairs, turned on the tap water and filled the blue tea pot, reflecting the window radiant with sun. As I sat it on the stove top to begin its rumble, I looked about to see where my gracious hosts were. As I found no one, I remembered that both had plans for breakfast that morning at a local cubby hole. I had not shown interest in attending the night before and was pleased to find I had the place to myself. The shrill of the whistle had me rushing over. As I poured my cup of tea I saw the dock stretching its tired planks further out in the inlet. Surly sore from our waltz in the hours before. With my hot tea in hand I skirted my way outside, as to keep my backless slippers around my dry toes, I found myself on the dock once again. While Orion had just gone to bed only hours ago, and the toads, crickets, frogs, grasshoppers and fireflies, were surly too occupied in their own lives now, I found a peacefully, prefect, pleasantness there. Leaning against the, probably unsafe, squeaky rail, I found a clam, a stillness of the water, a quite in the air, and a contentment in my soul. For I had my very first date last night, and it couldn’t have gone better. It had no drought made even Cinderella jealous.
By the way, the 4th of July is my first favorite holiday, can you guess why? Screw the whole America thing, we stole it anyway. It is the fireworks of course, and because it is warm (not like December). And like always, a good hotdog can’t be beat. Soft warm bun, plenty of ketchup and mustard, chopped onion and sweet relish, all surrounding a warm hotdog, perfection. Moreover, Orion had once told me it was his favorite holiday as well, one of his few nights off a year.
Mod
((Wow Leila thtas wow! Well you are older than me. I am only in 7th. Thanks I had fun writing it))
((wow I am older then you! Thanks. I really like your too though, and you will just keep getting better and better.))
((I wrote this for the fiction workshop I took my last semester of undergrad. This was my class mate’s favorite story of mine that I shared. The inspiration for this piece came from my own experiences in the Army after 9/11. But I will point out this story is completely fictional. Hope you like it. And again I hope it is not too long to post here.))Join the Army
by Leila
John joined the Army because he needed money for college. And besides he wasn’t even sure what he would want to study. Towards the end of his junior year a recruiter came to his school. He didn’t pay much attention to it at the time. However, his best friend Jimmy had said he was thinking about joining. From that point on, throughout his senior year, he had the idea in the back of his head. He hadn’t really mentioned it to anyone, that he was thinking about joining, not even his parents. He wasn’t sure how they would react. They had never talked about the military, other than a few comments here and there by his father who seemed rather disgruntled about his own experiences with the draft during Vietnam. Apparently he contemplated escape. Moreover, toward the end of his senior year his parents were starting to worry, he had not yet applied to any colleges and had avoided talking to them about it all semester. He finally mentioned the idea to them the night before his graduation. His mother was upset that he hadn’t spoken to them about this before and neither of them were very pleased with the idea. None the less the day after his graduation he headed down to the nearest recruitment center. He didn’t really care what he was going to be doing as long as it was physical, he just wanted to get the paperwork over with before his parents could try and change his mind.
Abdul joined the Army because his father wanted him to. Or it was what his father called The Army, however in opposition to Saddam’s Army, was technically a militia. With the rumors of an American invasion his father was overworked about getting involved. His father had never been “anti-American”. However, he saw what happened in Iran and he had certainly not forgotten the last Bush invasion. His father was highly skeptical of the true intentions of the American invasion. He certainly was not a huge Husain fan, but he was afraid, not only for their lives simply being citizens of Iraq, but also the threat of a culture being forced upon them. An American intervention didn’t seem as though it would liberate the people of Iraq anymore than how they already lived. Moreover, his father hadn’t even asked him if he was going to join the Army, he just started bragging to his friends and coworkers about how great his son was going to be. Abdul didn’t want to get involved; he was afraid and didn’t really know what side he stood on. He certainly did not like Saddam Hussein, but he wasn’t in favor of having another country invade either. His mother was against the whole thing, she didn’t want her little boy getting hurt; however, she didn’t mention it to either of them. She’d had conversations with her mother but the conversations never went further. Abdul thought about running away on more than one occasion but never went through with it. He met up with a friend of his fathers the day after his 18th birthday who walked him down to the base.
John’s MOS was 63B, light-wheel mechanic. He went through basic training and AIT at Fort Jackson, South Carolina, which was easy enough and he made some good friends. Right after his training he was shipped off to his unit in Illinois as they were mobilizing for their deployment to Iraq in three days. There was one kid from his training who also was sent to his unit a few weeks later after they had already entered theater. He was still right off the training presses from AIT so he was quiet and concentrated. He took orders well and performed his job successfully. His parents, mom more than anything, sent him lost of letters; he responded to about every four she sent. She was so worried about his safety, to a point at which he got annoyed. As he started to settle into his new unit the comradery built and his coworkers helped him relax a little. They teased him and told him to lay off all the cover paranoia and cool it on all the parade rest, it made him look like a tight ass, and more importantly it made the rest of them look bad in comparison. When he first arrived all he could think about was the heat, the intense heat. This and the weight of his Kevlar, made the effort of any task exhausting. As time went on, his friends would leave out a plate or two from their body armor every once in awhile, so he began following suit. Besides which, he hadn’t even seen an insurgent since he got there, let alone been shot at.
Abdul was shuffled around from group to group from the beginning. He began to practice firing but didn’t excel, hardly proficient. This was partly because he had a nervous hand, but mostly because he didn’t want to be there in the first place. He got moved to making IEDs but he was even worse at that, almost blew off his own face once. He didn’t really make many friends, he was quiet and uninterested, yet he played along in front of his leaders, afraid of word getting to his father about his un-enthusiasm. He finally got put into the class of bomb placement specialist. His job was not to make the bombs but to properly place and detonate them at corresponding times. The performers of this type of job had a certain prestige among the ranks, for their actions had been most successful in acquiring casualties of the other side. He was certainly not pleased about this job, he was scared for his life, and didn’t want to kill anyone either. He was forced by his own fear to do the job well, for if he slipped it really would be his face blown off. He did his job with detail, camouflaging, and completing simultaneous detonations of road side bombs, as to get multiple vehicles in a convoy. He tried to look away as he pressed the detonator, but on one occasion he caught the sight of a man’s head burst onto the window as the humvee exploded. Abdul was breaking.
John was sent out on his first mission off base. At this point he had been working on humvees that came in, after a mission, refilling liquids, air pressure, just basic maintenance checks. The mechanics rotated monthly, from on-base work to field work and John’s group was up. He was sent out to various locations for onsite repair of broken down vehicles. As they were headed off, in the mix of all the preparation he completely forgot to reinsert his back Kevlar plate. He didn’t notice until about three days in and his group was to be away from the base for a whole month. He knew if someone found out, especially a superior, his ass would be on fire. So he kept it to himself, deciding to be extra careful. A week and a half, almost two weeks into their field mission things had gone smoothly. He had seen the occasional Iraqi, but from what he understood they had only seen civilians. He had gotten more paranoid as time went on however; he began to see multiple built holes in the humvees he was working on, and a few flat tires because of it. They were sent out on a mission one day to fix a five ton on the side of a road, routine stuff. They headed out just ahead of a scheduled convoy. They were to pull ahead of the five ton and stop in front of the broken down mass of a truck, as to let the convoy pass. All of a sudden he heard a loud…
Abdul was having nightmares, hearing bombs go off in his head, waking up with a start multiple times throughout the night. He was seeing the man die over and over again right before his eyes, the blood, the flames. The man’s life was over before he even knew it. He kept imagining the parents and the children of the man he had killed. This was even more painful with his own feelings of being home sick, missing his mother and his sister and brother. He had come to confide in one person, Aasif was his coworker around the same age. He was much more caught up in the worth of the whole fight but was glad to conversate. When he told him about the nightmares, that he wanted out, his friend encouraged him to continue on the fight. Saying that getting out would mean the death of his family in their society. Understanding this to be true they both carried on with orders. Intelligence provided the information on a scheduled convoy. There was a broken down vehicle right along the road side which was the perfect place for explosives. As he was headed to the broken down mass of a truck, his comrades stationed behind him waiting, he heard the man’s mother, the man he had killed, crying out in pain. He couldn’t do it again. He still had a few moments to plant the device and run back but instead of running back he went behind the vehicle and set it off, just before the convoy was to pass, hopping to miss them. The last thing he heard was a loud…
BANG! Things went black, then cold. It was over; neither left the world knowing exactly what happened. Their lives had ended, within one second they cease to exist. This was the conclusion of their lives, they were gone forever. Both their mothers cried, both their fathers blamed themselves. All their comrades lived, the closest of which were riddled with guilt.
The explosive went off right as John’s humvee passed. Abdul’s timing would have made his plan successful, to kill only himself, but as John’s team had gone ahead of the scheduled convoy their lives had come to an unintended intersection. While neither of them saw one another, as Abdul was set up on the other side of the broken down truck, their lives now intertwined.
The blast was far enough away to not kill anyone, except John. He would have lived, had a piece of shrapnel not flew through his unprotected back hitting the underside of his heart. When his body was recovered from the vehicle they immediately knew what happened. They had told him back at the base to take out his plate and he had never put it back in.
The others all thought it was an accident, the device malfunctioned or his hand slipped, but Aasif knew as soon as the bomb went off what had happened. The thoughts were rolling through his head. He should have placed the bomb, and let Abdul stay behind. He should have said something different. He could have stopped him, saved him somehow.
Two lives were lost that day. Two lives whose paths crossed for a mire second, but whose lives are now forever connected. Their mother’s learned to hide the pain, their fathers learned to suppress the anger. Their comrades carried on, keeping the true cause of their deaths a long lost secret. Their funerals would be somber. And they would be called heroes. And their futures would go to someone else.
Part 1I lay in my bed not knowing what to do next.Not knowwing where to go who to trun to. I just got the worst news of my life, my borther and mother have been killed in Iraq. No dad he died when I was 8 years old. I am 16 years old now no family no one to talk to, to cry with. As I lay in my bed tears coming out of my eyes in buckets I think now what?
I am Amber Leag, I am sixteem my mom and borther have just been killed by a bomb in Iraq. I have no one left no family, no place to go. I lay in my bed looking up thinking, I cant do this I cant live here I cant go on I must die and do it soon.
I lay awake all night thinking of my now dead family and how I should kill my self the next day. I have school tomrrow so it must be after that. Then I will find a place where I was most happiest and kill my self there. The next day I walk into school on ones talks to me only the teachers asking little to no questions at all. I take vrey littel notes do vrey little at all today cause I know what I must do after words. However, I do go to my best friend for 14 years Mady. She has herd what has happend to me and is willing to do anything for me now but I dont accepet. I dont know if I should tell her my plans about latter or not afraid she will try to stop me. Its now the end of the day I dont take I ride home with Mady I dont take the bus I just walk the 5 miles walk home.
When I get home I throw my stuff onto the ground not caring where it lands. I run up to my room and lock the door. I grab my computer and trun it on and go to my Facebook page. I am posting the last video be I die. I upload the video close my laptop and go to the bathroom and lock the dorr this will be the last thing I touch before I die. I open the medicen cabint and grab I bottle of pills not caring what they are.
Part 2
I walk up to the door and un lock it. My dog Cowgril comes to meet me. "Mom I am home" I say. "Hi! Mady how was your day? my mother asks. "Fine" I reply . I grab my laptop and go to my facebook page. I see that Amber has posted a knew video. Probley something dumb but funny at the same time I think to my self. I click it. I am horafid at what she is saying tears are runnig down my face. I shut the computer grab my keys and run to the car not giving my mom any time to react.
When I get to Amber's house I bang on the door as hard has i can. No anwser. I run to the back door its open. I run in side. "Amber! Amber!" I call no anwser. I am now crying and runnig up the staris. I look in her room. Shes not there. I see the bathroom door is shut. "No!" I cry this cant be true. I push on the door and am able to get it open. There I see Amber. On the floor passed out I scream "AMBER!!!" till my lugs hurt. I dail 911. 911 whats your emrecy?
My friend she dead! Theres a bottle of pill on the floor I dont know how many she took or what she took they are just laying there. HELP! I scream into the phone.
"Miss, I need you to clam down. Where are you now?" The lady on the other line says. "499 roserunner dr."(not a real adress) "Hurry!" I yell.
Miss there is an amblance on the way saty right there. They get here in less then 5 min. "I am in here!" I yell. They run in with a gurney and some other tools. I am pushed out of they way but stay right they holding her hand hoping she not dead. The medics are saying something but I dont care to lisen. "We need to get her to the hospital NOW!" one says to the other. They lift it up and carry her to the amblence. "Miss is there any family we can call?" I finally notice they are talking to me. "No they all are dead. I ssy. "I can come. I say hoping they will let me. "Fine." they say. I get in stilll holding Ambers hand.
We arrive at the hospital and theres a whole team of docters and nurses waiting to take her way. To try to save her life. The docters are asking me all these questions like what typ of pills are they? Where did she get them?
I dont know I keep saying I just found her on the floor passed out. "Just SAVE HER!" I scream. When I awake I am in a hospital bed with an IV in my arm. "W-what happend I ask?" "You passed of one of the nurses said. "Wheres, wheres Amber?" I try to get up but shes stops me. "Where is she I demanded!" "She is in sugery right now." Says the nurse.
( *Note: I am not some mentaly carzy person this was just the insperation I got from the song I herd today.*
((I knew you were younger than me, but I guess 7th grade just seems like SO long ago even though I'm only 23, still young. But thinking about 7th grade makes me feel old. I'm really bad at inspiration, that's why all my writings have come from my classes, can't come up with anything without the prodding of professors.))
((Yeah well I dont usally get it by myself well I do but it also comes from whatever song I am playing while I write. So I am guessing you liked it or didnt?))
((Oh thanks! I was just like.... then that popped into my head! What do you like about it?))
((well I'm not much of one to critique on writing technique or what not, I'm more interested in the story. What I like about what you have here so far is the secrecy, and the suspense. I like this story better than your other ones. It might be because this has had more space to develop but I want to know what happens next and that's important in a good story. I might suggest trying to write more with your five senses, it will automatically bring out more detail in the story, draw the reader into the story more.))
It was both amazingly good!
Thanks. Lea I am thinking of eriting something about my "past" Just to you know put it down on papper(really goodreads). Good or bad idea?
Past*This is kinda a letter/story.*
You broke me. I cant fix this and you cant also. What you did to me was unfair and un forgiving JAcob you know whats right and whats worng so why did you scew up my life just to make your parents happy? For all of you who are reading this and dont know what I am talknig but just keep reading.
My life was just fine untill that day when I got my heart broken for the frist time in my life. I was only 12 years old and it wasnt even fair. I never did anything worng I tried to do anything in my power to fix this but nothing works.
Jacob Maher,
I dont think you know how much you hurt me that day. When you said you lied about everything and just did all this so you wouldnt hurt me. The question is why? We were best friends before this and now its down the drain. Why? JAcob why would you go and make something worse when it was just fine? I know your going to say no it wad you and Brady. No it wasnt! I told Brady cause I thought he could keep domething to himself but I get it now I was worng, when he told your dad you did nothing to stop it nothing at all and in the mena time I ened up pushing Brady down the hill. After that everything was never the same. You become distine and un forgiving. You told me you loved me that one night but did you really mean it? Jacob I love you that wont change but what you did to me should be something your happy about or something you forget you broke me into a million perices. And I can never forgive you fo that. You kissed me then lied you told me you loved me on the day before hallaween but can I really belive you love me? After all you did? Everytihng is soo messed up and its not cause or me its YOU! You made me into someone I dont want to be but I cant change that now I have already lost everyone I loved over this. My best friend, you, my familys and your trust in us together. Everything that could have happend to me did. I am not saying that I can forgive even though its been a long tim but it doesnt mean I dont have felling for you.
All the people that are sstill around me know that this that happen really wasnt my fault and they stood by me and still are today but you JAcob I dont know where we stand. When I see you I will always light up like a chirstmas tree but I dont know if being together will ever happen again. I guess everytihng was for the best up I cant get over the way you imbrace me on the night before hallaween and told me you loved me but was that a lie too? Can I trust you again? I DONT KNOW?! Jacob one thing is true that I can not ever forget what you did to me. Lieing to me to make your parents happpy? What about me? Well i guess I dont matter to you. Cause if i did none of this would have happended dont you think?
((Guys, I no I am soo not even writing a story its just I need somwher to put my feelings. Yes I also know I am rambuling too. :D))
Woww..It was good for you to get your feelings out. Altough I do think Jacob matters to you..Did he not tell you that he loved you before Halloween? Did he not talk to you? I think somewhere inside of him, he cares.
I know he matters to me, he really does. Well dose it count while I guess you could say datting? Even though I said it first all alll he said was you too.Ex: "I love you. Yeah.... you too." I mean we talked a tiny bit not much maybe a few wordds and that would still make me feel so happy just talking to him for the tinest bit still mkaes me feel like I am floatikng on clouds. I reallly hope soo..
"Did you see his eyes?" Angel giggles as she sits down next to me."Who?" I ask, sloppily trying to finish my math homework before the bell rings.
"The new kid. He's really good looking."
"On a scale of one to drool?" I ask, not really paying attention.
"Dying."
I grin. Dying meant a thousand on a scale of one to ten. "What about his eyes?"
"They're the lightest blue I've ever seen," Angel gushes. "Like ice."
Ice. Huh. Must be pretty light then. The bell rings before I can tell Angel to introduce herself.
"Oh, crap, if I'm late one more time Mr. Frendricks is gonna kill me!" Angel says, snatching her bag and tearing down the hall. I chuckle as I wave after her, hearing the echo of her "See ya Sarai!" waft after her.
Speaking of being late, I'd better hurry too. That was the warning bell. If I'm late one more time, that's detention for me. I can practically feel the seconds ticking by before the last bell, the one that means I'm tardy. I walk briskly, pushing my way through the throngs of people in our high school.
I'm just walking in when I see him. Dusty blonde hair that brushes his ears, wearing just the right colour to highlight both his muscles and the colour of his eyes. Laughing at some joke David York just made.
Then he looks up and sees me.
Angel was right. He does have light eyes, brighter than any I've seen. Only I don't see them, because in the instant his eyes meet mine all I can see is the guilt filling them to the brim.
That's Tenneson Hart, who should be charged with the first degree murder of James and Kathleen Hart when he was just twelve. A starving boy caught breaking into a house for some food. He happened to have a gun. He was never caught.
I found him in my kitchen that night. But he'd run out of bullets.
For a moment, I stared my parents' murderer in the eyes.
Then, I screamed.
((This is a poem I wrote for my grandfather's service back in May of this year.)) Adventures on High Rolling Seas
Memories with mom of times way passed by,
Of trips as steal birds above clouds way up high.
Temporary friends and joys at peak jubilation,
As princesses and spiders no need for narration.
With cousins as siblings I never did know,
Expeditions to visit wild beasts in the snow.
Off on adventures to high rolling seas,
Hidden beach cabins abandoned by thieves.
Lakes made of soap, filled with fish and sunshine,
Finding fairy dust in every moment so fine.
Riding the rapids with snakes in bear feet,
Deserted islands, pirates treasure our personal treat.
Climbing mountains so high the summit divine,
Anticipating every turn, berry picking on the decline.
A walk around the coroner to the tire store,
The library, rainy voyages never a chore.
Two dogs in strollers rolling down the dirt road,
The simplest of days made completely of gold.
Great and Grand Parents on pedestals sublime,
Playing high rolling stakes way past my bed time.
From bouncing on grandpa’s hard working knee,
To riding living room ponies as tough as can be.
Holding those memories close to my heart,
Those still left behind still so far apart.
Having each lady bug that crosses my path,
Lift my head and heart up to those who have past.
A grandmother that hung every star in the sky,
A grandfather that made me feel like the apple of his eye.
While I’m not sure where he lays his spirit to rest,
This poem is to the man who now pumps in my chest.
Mod
Coolio guys1 Amazing stories! Im in 7th too, Noelle. When I get enough time I'll post my own here too.
Ya, sorry I guess I forgot the Faith part. Wow, I feel dumb. Lol, but yeah I mean you.
I LOVE Murderer!
It is beautifully written!
It is beautifully written!
Thank you Joise. I had a fun time writing it.
Bored person: I am very bored..................Oh look a tank..... 5 hours later......
Repoter: Today at the bieber house hold there was an attack by a mysterious tank no one knows where it is or who was driving it all that is known is that the bieber family is no more.
Bored person: Well that was a little entertaining but, now I'm bored again....
Reporter: This just in! The bieber family has just been found and they are still alive!
Bored person: Guess I have something to get rid of my boredom again! :)
Bored person: Greeaattt I'm bored again.........Ohhhhh look a WWII bomber heh heh heh.........
3 hours later.......
Reporter: Today at the house of Britney Spears a series of bombs have been droped by an unknown aircraft. The nation is mourning for the lost of one of the greatest pop stars.
Bored person: Well that killed some time heh heh heh...
Reporter: Just in they have just found Britney under the pile of rubble and she seems to be alright!
Bored person: Seriously?.... I need better aim.......
now where are those bomber keys?......
Bored person: Once again I am bored out of my mind.......I guess I'll look at some youtube videos....
Audience: Huuuuuuhhhhhhh?!!!
Bored person: What? Just because I kill annoying people doesn't mean I always kill people.....
There would be no one left to kill if I did that...
Reporter: Today seems to peaceful day in the world and we are all happy. In other news Madonna is preparing a come back tour.
Bored person: Okaaayyyy forget that....
Where is my sniper rifle? Oh there you are.....
4 Hours later....
Reporter: This just in Madonna has been shot in the leg. At the momment she is at hospital recovering!
Bored person: As I said I need better aim.....
Oh well at least I saved some people from some pain and agony.....
Guy in audience: I paid 800 dollars to see her show and now it is cancled because of you!
Bored person: Not my fault you're really stupid....
Read mine on my profile. Here's the summary: In The New World, you don't get to decide what you want to do in life. The moment you are born your future 'tier' is inscribed on your hand. The story revolves around Bridget, Watson and Jillian, three very different people who's lives become intwined. The Chapter title refers to the point of view each chapter is from.
http://www.goodreads.com/story/show/2...
ℰᏤε wrote: "If anyone feels like giving my stuff a read, you can check it out over here"
OMG EVE. Have you published!? You should!
OMG EVE. Have you published!? You should!
Leila wrote: "((This is a poem I wrote for my grandfather's service back in May of this year.))
Adventures on High Rolling Seas
Memories with mom of times way passed by,
Of trips as steal birds above cl..."
LOVE IT!
Adventures on High Rolling Seas
Memories with mom of times way passed by,
Of trips as steal birds above cl..."
LOVE IT!
Waterfall *Daughter of Northridge Earthquake* wrote: ""Did you see his eyes?" Angel giggles as she sits down next to me.
"Who?" I ask, sloppily trying to finish my math homework before the bell rings.
"The new kid. He's really good looking."
"On a sca..."
LOVE IT! makes me shiver.
"Who?" I ask, sloppily trying to finish my math homework before the bell rings.
"The new kid. He's really good looking."
"On a sca..."
LOVE IT! makes me shiver.
Faith Noelle wrote: " Past
*This is kinda a letter/story.*
You broke me. I cant fix this and you cant also. What you did to me was unfair and un forgiving JAcob you know whats right and whats worng so why did y..."
I'm SO sorry Faith!
*This is kinda a letter/story.*
You broke me. I cant fix this and you cant also. What you did to me was unfair and un forgiving JAcob you know whats right and whats worng so why did y..."
I'm SO sorry Faith!
Faith Noelle wrote: " Part 1
I lay in my bed not knowing what to do next.Not knowwing where to go who to trun to. I just got the worst news of my life, my borther and mother have been killed in Iraq. No dad he died wh..."
really beautiful writing faith. sort of scary though.....
I lay in my bed not knowing what to do next.Not knowwing where to go who to trun to. I just got the worst news of my life, my borther and mother have been killed in Iraq. No dad he died wh..."
really beautiful writing faith. sort of scary though.....
Josie Ona, Gale's #1 crazed fangirl wrote: " Faith Noelle wrote: " Past*This is kinda a letter/story.*
You broke me. I cant fix this and you cant also. What you did to me was unfair and un forgiving JAcob you know whats right and whats w..."
Well, if you've been reading chat, most of all of that has changed now.
Josie Ona, Gale's #1 crazed fangirl wrote: " Faith Noelle wrote: " Part 1I lay in my bed not knowing what to do next.Not knowwing where to go who to trun to. I just got the worst news of my life, my borther and mother have been killed in Ir..."
GRR! Come on, Joise! It's easy: Really beautiful writing Faith, sort of scary though..
Anyway, thanks.
Mod
Make sure to check out 'Kill or Be Killed' and heart it if you have an account there.
Josie Ona, Gale's #1 crazed fangirl wrote: "OMG EVE. Have you published!? You should!"Hehe no, I haven't been published but thanks, it really means a lot!
(here is a short exert from something i did for class. Its not real good because we only had a half an hour to do it but i thought it had some pretty good voice factors in it)I know everyone thinks its good to go out peacefully and silently. To just let their flame of life be extinguished with a whiff of breath. Maybe they leave some last words, something reassuring, something that will bring forth false hope and happiness. Well if I'm leaving now i won't go out without a word. Im tied to a long wooden board, thick leather straps crossing my chest, wrists, feet, and head. There a bare bulb swinging slightly above me, constantly flickering, making my captures faces flash like a strode light. My head is groggy but I've got enough strength in me to throw a flying spitball up into the air, that, instead of hitting my kidnappers face, falls right back to earth and splatters arcoss my chin and neck. I don't stuggle, i know its no use. They had my murder all planned, every single detail mapped out. I know this is where i will die. I smile, my teeth stained with the blood that is gushing like a gyser from the forehead, the result of a sharp rock to the head. My lips is also bleeding and im pretty sure i've got at least two broken ribs. Good thing i can no longer feel pain, emotion, or anything else. One of my murderers, a tall bald man with tattoos winding up his arms comes into the light, a gleaming steel knife in his hand. Ah, so that the device that will kill me, 17 year-old Amara, that will send me from this world to the next. "Any last words?" the man asks me, his voice rough and full of triumph. I stare at him, grin like the foolish child i am and send my last words up into the air, along with a slight gargle. With a flourish of his hand, my throat is slit and I'm as dead as that mans soul. I hope he remembers me for the final words i had ever said.
"See you in hell."
I got this from Hope... Thanks!