|
|
Post by Amy (In America - Busy atm) on Apr 22, 2011 22:56:49 GMT
Hey guy's, this is sort of like a game but not quite.
Basically, you just paste small excerpts of things you've written, keep in under 800 words, and... um... yeah, I guess it's a good way to showcase your stories or build confidence in writing ;D
Let's begin...
|
|
|
|
Post by Amy (In America - Busy atm) on Apr 23, 2011 22:47:13 GMT
Well written  Crystal applied a thick juicy layer of a potent pink gloss to her lips, smacking them together and daring to give the new boy a sensuous smile. Riley watched her mouth ajar and her heart pounding deep within her chest, as the boy absorbed Crystal from three meters away, and then looked aside, appearing unimpressed with both girls. |
|
|
|
Post by Zoe on Apr 23, 2011 23:12:00 GMT
That seriously appealed to my senses--which is always a plus. "Well, Jacob, you have twisted your ankle so severely that your talus and the bottom of your tibia have been cracked," the doctor's tone was one of concern. "The plaster should keep it from moving too much at all, but you'll have to stay off that leg for somewhere around a month."
The wheelchair I was sat in was one of no comfort, but kept my leg from feeling pressure--and I was grateful for that.
"What about prescriptions for the pain?" my mother's voice was shaken and cracked.
"I've got it right here by the payment papers, but I have some concern on some other matters." My mother rested her hand on my shoulder.
"Like what?"
"Well, do you see this x-ray here?" There was a shuffling of papers, and a quick tap of what I guessed was a pen against a clipboard. "See the bottoms of the toes? Well, he's gotten some phalange bones pretty banged up with the ankle, so I’m thinking he'll be in pretty bad condition for a while." Mostly dialogue, but eh. Not to mention a serious draft.Chapter 2 of The Blind Pianist |
|
|
|
Post by Caitlin on Apr 25, 2011 4:16:23 GMT
I've never been very good at writing but heres something I wrote a while ago xP.
The wind was starting to act up, breezing faster through the air. I shivered a tiny bit, and he instantly wrapped his coat around me. I started to protest, but he put a finger to my lips, and held me close to him. I pressed close to him, breathing him in, happy in his arms.
He whispered in my ear, “I love you”. I trembled a little, I’m sure if he wasn’t holding me up I would have fell.
“I love you, too” I whispered back, looking up at him and smiling. He smiled back, smoothed my hair out, and let go of me. I looked at him, confused.
“I have to go, Maria” he told me, sadness lurking in his eyes. I instantly wrapped my arms around him and pressed my face into his chest.
“No…” I looked up at him, tearing up a little. I pressed my face in his chest again, trying to hold in my tears, but it was no use. Slowly, a tear dribbled down my face, and then another and another, until I was sobbing. He held me as close as possible, trying to calm me down.
“Shh, calm down Maria, it’s okay, it’s all okay.” Lies, it wasn’t all okay. He was moving, moving away from me for God knows how long. I started to get angry, angry at him for having to move. I pushed away from him, balling my fists, and turned my back on him. I wiped my eyes, covered my red face, and started to walk away. He catched up with me, placing his hands on my shoulders, turning me around, forcing me to look him in the eyes.
“Maria, please don’t do this. I’m sorry, but I have to move, it’s not my decision. I promise to come back as soon as I can, okay?” I just looked down at the ground, tearing up even more. He tilted my chin up, quickly kissed me.
“Okay…” I stood there, way more depressed then I was before. Why was it that when he kissed me, it felt like he never actually wanted too? It was like he was scared… or just grossed out by me. He wiped my tears from my eyes, hugged me quickly, and whispered in my ear once more that he loved me. Then, he turned around and trudged his way, going back home. I turned and walked away too, knowing that the best thing in my life had just left.
Sorry if that was longer then 800 words.. just kinda copied and pasted xD.
|
|
|
|
Post by legrande on Apr 25, 2011 21:04:16 GMT
This is possibly mistake riddled-- I'm sorry. It's copied straight off my iPod and I haven't properly proof read it yet...
In the crowded play park, amidst the hordes of Excited children, it was easy not to notice the small boy sat glumly by himself on the roundabout. Vince Andersen was the kind of person that kept himself to himself. He didn't have any friends, and he didn't have anyone to take him to the park. The roundabout creaked half heartedly as he made a small effort to spin it around by himself. After a while, he gave a small sigh of defeat and got off the rusty toy. He looked around at all the happy kids and perfect families, and not for the first time, he wished that his family was like that. Frowning, he kicked the roundabout savagely before sloping off towards the tiny two bedroom house that he called home.
The Way We Were -- Part 1
|
|
|
|
Post by LadyofShalott on Apr 25, 2011 22:44:31 GMT
Ahh! I just love threads like this!
It was about five-fifteen by the time Rose pulled up into the parking lot of the small apartment complex. The late afternoon sun was a bright caramel color in the east, just peaking over the roof of the two-storied building. It cast long shadows across the broken pavement which cooled the blacktop off from the heat of the day. There was only one car near her, a ratty blue Volkswagen. There wasn’t many cars in the parking lot ever; most of the people that took up residence here were too poor to afford the gas.
Rose turned the engine off and pulled the key out of the ignition. She glanced in the rearview mirror at her reflection. A couple of months ago she would have been shocked to see how her appearance had changed. But by now she had gotten used to the dark circles under her eyes that now donned her face. There were a few lines that ran across her forehead and eyes, too, just another remembrance of the weariness that had been her life since last December.
She combed a few fingers through her lank, fair hair and sighed. Then Rose shifted her gaze to the backseat where her three-year-old was sleeping so soundly she was almost jealous. But just a look at how peaceful he was, how small and innocent, made her heart warm. Her baby was so unaware of what they had been through, what they were still going through. Rose hoped that he wouldn’t remember any of it when he grew up.
Rose waited till the end of the song on the radio before opening the door of her silver Chrysler. The hinges squeaked in protest as if they would drop the door altogether any minute. It really wasn’t that old of a car- okay, so maybe it was. It was only a couple of years old when Rich had bought it for her. That was nine years ago.
Nine years ago. When everything was still perfect.
She unstrapped the sleeping child from his booster seat. Jason hadn’t woken up since she left her parent’s house. He stayed with them most days while she was at work in the small café across town. When Rose’s parents couldn’t look after him, she left him with Bethany Saulters, a resident of the apartment complex. She was twenty-one, newly married to her husband Ryan, and had as many rings on her face as a gypsy did on their fingers. She was the kind of girl that only went to high school to make out with as many boys as she could. The only reason Rose trusted her enough to leave Jason with her is because she knew that Bethany loved kids. But Rose couldn’t help wanting to get home a little earlier when her parent’s weren’t available.
Jason opened his tiny brown eyes and moved his head a little when Rose picked him up, but went right back to sleep as soon as his head was on her shoulder. She waved to Bethany who was smoking on the balcony by her door as she unlocked the door to her own small apartment. She clicked on the lights and took in the fairly familiar room in a glance: slightly peeling white wallpaper, an old sofa and small TV set by the door. There was an equally tiny kitchen on the other side with a fold-out table to eat on. On the left was a doorway into the only bedroom. On the right was the bathroom that barely held a toilet, bathtub, and sink.
Rose went to the door on the left and laid Jason down on the queen sized bed and took his shoes off. He was on his stomach, his blond hair slipping over his closed eyes. He looked so much like Rich when he slept. He looked so much like Rich anyway. Her heart swelled with loneliness sometimes just looking at her baby.
|
|
|
|
Post by dragonaair on Apr 26, 2011 1:42:23 GMT
 Her breath came out white in the chilly air. Rubbing her hands together, the woman with scarlet hair and pale green eyes walked across the pathway towards a large shopping center that was inside an antique building. She stepped into the crowded yet still cozy building, grateful for its warmth. The woman cautiously slipped her way through the crowds with her tall, thin frame and came into a department store where she immediately made her way for the make-up section.
Upon arrival, she spoke to a blonde haired girl with dark brown eyes and whose face was tight and stern.
“Hi, Elise, sorry I’m late!” The woman’s face was flustered and she was quite breathless as she spoke.
“Florence, why were you late?” Elise said in a tone that almost guaranteed a lecture.
“I-I’m sorry! I woke up late, it’s my fault, I know,” she replied.
“Since you’ve been working here a while, I would have thought you’d have gotten into a good sleeping pattern by now. This is your first time being late so I will let you off with a warning. Next time, you will have your pay deducted and the time after that… Well, you will be fired.” Elise said simply and walked off in a puff.
Florence ran her long, slender fingers through her hair and stalked over to her desk. Her job was to jump out at people like a lion and try and sell them makeup from a bad brand she didn’t even use. Florence stood next to her desk and hours went by as she pestered people to “try this!” or get them to succumb to a shady deal. When there was no one coming, Florence often sat at her desk drumming her fingers on the table.
She hated it, really, as she was terrible at striking up conversations. A job is a job and money is money, though.
By the end of the day, she had made a few sales but nothing near her usual amount.
“Great,” she muttered. “Less pay for me, I guess…”
“Hi, Florence; did you sell much today?” A woman who looked to be in her late 30s began to chat with Florence.
“Oh, hello, Sabrina. No, I made a lot less than I usual do. What about you?” Florence sighed.
“That’s too bad. I didn’t sell much either. Maybe people aren’t interested in cosmetics so close to Christmas?” Sabrina laughed heartily.
“Maybe. I came in late today so now I’m going to be in more trouble,” Florence pulled an upset face.
“Don’t worry about it; you know how Elise is like. She says things but she doesn’t usually go through with them. Anyway, can you believe it? It’s time to go home already. Sometimes, I think these days go too quickly.” She said randomly. “Oh, also, I heard about your engagement – congratulations! James is a lucky man to have you; you’re a lucky girl to have him,” Sabrina winked and smiled.
“Thank you,” A broad, genuine smile took place upon Florence’s lips. “He took me to this beautiful beach and proposed. It was magical.”
“I’m happy for you. It’s good to see you settling down early,” Sabrina said goodbye and bustled out the door.
Florence waved her goodbye and finished packing up. Like Sabrina, she strolled her way out of the shopping center as the lights outside turned black.
The air was freezing outside after being in a warm room for so long. Florence tugged at her brown, wooly jacket and yearned it to be thicker. Walking home would be difficult, but at least she wasn’t too far away. Light snow began to fall as she trudged her feet through the snow on the sidewalk. A breeze blew the snow into her chapped face. Florence pulled her fluffy hoodie over her head and stuffed her vulnerable hands into her jacket-pocket.
A couple of minutes passed and the snow got a bit heavier, however visibility was still fairly good. There was the occasional ‘beep’ and a flash of light from a car. The streets were quite empty, despite it being a Saturday night. Most people were probably curled up in their homes already due to the snow; a cup of hot chocolate in their hands, sipping tentatively, watching TV, wrapped in blankets – safe and sound.
|
|
|
|
Post by Amy (In America - Busy atm) on Apr 26, 2011 22:14:44 GMT
Rochelle Thomas glared down at the image of herself, morose, fed up and on edge – like the saying goes, a picture can tell a thousand words, and none of them were optimistic. With a wry smile and a sigh, she wondered how on earth it had come to this, another day, another headline dredging her name and family through the dirt.
The fatigue and hurt left her face for a moment, as her phone buzzed from its liquid grave. A fresh glass of water ordered especially for its death, and there it was, fading away with every tone.
Buzz, buzz, buzz… dead.
|
|
|
|
Post by LadyofShalott on May 8, 2011 15:05:44 GMT
Ooo that sounds like the start of a good one.  It’s been a little over two months now since my mother died. My father was the most distraught of all of us. The hard-working, tough, cheerful man has been replaced by one that drinks himself into a peaceful slumber every night, the only peace he can find. Brandon, my sixteen-year-old brother has fallen from a B-average student to a D-average, spending most of his studying time at parties. Kaylee has gone the exact other way; her grades are perfect. She avoids me even more now than before which isn’t hard to do since she’s hardly at home. And me? I’ve taken Mom’s place. I feel more like a housewife than a teenager. Sometimes I even feel like I’m the only one who’s holding us all together. But worse of all, I know I’m the one responsible for her death. I’m the one that put us all like this. Her face will haunt me forever, even when I turn into an old lady, she’ll never let me forget it. |
|
|
|
Post by eileen0001 on May 9, 2011 5:13:48 GMT
I've been dallying with this for a while now. Thought I will post this and ask for your thoughts on it. Unfortunately, I don't have a cover for this chapter yet! Enjoy! ***** “I’m going shopping later this afternoon. You are coming?” Alice, stretching out her legs leisurely before her, turned to face her best friend. Even though Stephanie had on her most convincing, pretty pucker, it wasn’t convincing enough and she certainly wasn’t buying it. Not today anyways. Looking down once again, she proceeded to pick away invincible strands of grass that clung to her jeans. It was recess time, and they sat on the grass outside of school – it was certainly her least favorite part of the school. “Not really,” she replied. “I’ll be doing laundry later tonight, after I’m done with homework.” “Boring, boring,” Stephanie replied. “How about we hit the club after that? Sure beats laundry anytime.” “Clubbing…and another run-in with the paparazzi? Thanks, but I’ll pass,” Alice said, brushing off an invincible strand of grass of her jeans once again. “Let that strand of grass be,” Stephanie said to her. “I thought you’d be used to them by now” “Used to who: the grass or the paparazzi?” “The grass, silly. Of course I mean the paparazzi. They love you; after all, you are the Golden child.” “Was-the golden child,” Alice corrected. “Besides, the fact that my mum is photogenic doesn’t mean that I should be too.” “Come on, Alice,” Stephanie coaxed her. “Besides, your mum isn’t just photogenic. I mean, who doesn’t know Violet Giovanni? Supermodel, actress, singer and ambassador for Oppressed women. And everything else under the planet. And her self-declared tomboy of a daughter who hates the paparazzi.” “You just had to go there,” Alice replied, hoisting herself off the ground. “Why not? You know it’s the truth.” “After that lovely speech, the thought of doing laundry sounds even more appealing than another run-in. Jacky is on vacation, so I’m left with all of the housework to do. So, sorry!” “Sport spoiler,” Stephanie scoffed. “I heard that.” ~ Riaend's Haven Chapter 1 ~ |
|
|
|
Post by legrande on May 19, 2011 22:30:17 GMT
"A'right, Rob? Don't just stand there lookin' at it! Wun't fly itself!" The cheerful voice belonged to Harry Phelps, Robert's best friend, and machine gunner.
At eighteen, Harry was only just old enough to have signed up, but had been eager to do his bit for the country, help the war effort. He had been waiting for an opportunity like this since joing the RAF Fighter Command. He didn't think of war as anything other than a big adventure. Harry was a bit like that, actually. He didn't think things through. He was from Yorkshire, and had a quick wit and a wry sense of humor.
He had a thin face and sharp features, with dark brown eyes that glittered with mischief. He was almost the polar opposite to Robert, who was quiet and serious, with a tendency to overthink things.
From 'Over The Channel'
|
|
DEVOTEDSHEPERD
Amicable Acquaintance
Who Cares If You Can't Dance (..) Just Get Up And Dance AnyWay
Posts: 247
|
Post by DEVOTEDSHEPERD on May 20, 2011 23:21:01 GMT
DEVOTED applause you all what great talent each of you have .Devoted wipes away a warm tear that gently slipped down her cheek A bit [ over-whelm by all the talent simmer, story writers she flips back yet another interesting page , gives a little smirk pops a peanut in her mouth and begins to read more excerpts on the forever growing Just In case Forums You Guys Are The BOMB
|
|
rehayler619
Amicable Acquaintance
Short and witty, just like me
Posts: 103
|
Post by rehayler619 on May 25, 2011 15:26:46 GMT
Yup...it's Star Wars. Seems to be all I write nowadays. I'm getting too used to writing in present tense...  Three figures, silhouetted against a fuchsia and purple sky watch as the sun slowly starts to set, it's reflection seeming to sink below the waves of the endless ocean that stretches out before them. The sea calmly laps at the sand's edge, washing up sea shells and small bits of debris towards the small gathering, huddled together under a blanket in the waning light.
One of the smallest reaches out, trying to grab at a shell that is creeping slowly across the floor towards her feet, but the oldest of the figures reaches out, catching the small twi'lek's hand. The small child looks up at her mother, green eyes wide as a small, disappointed pout crosses her face. Her mother returns the gaze with a warm, loving smile, then points back towards the creature.
The mother moves her arms, pulling both of her children into her lap, twin Tolian twi'leks watching in fascination as legs slowly uncurl from beneath the shell, opening like an exotic flower to reveal a small crab. It turns two beady eyes towards the group, eyeing them up as potential predators before scurrying away to bury itself in a patch of sand a few metres away.
“No fair! Come back!” The boy whimpers, sighing in tandem with his sister as they snuggle up against their mother. She reaches around them with both arms, trying to keep them all warm against the breeze picking up in the twilight air.
“Perhaps, it would be wise to come inside?” A gentle voice whispers in the mother's ear. She feels a lean, masculine form move his lips to her cheek to kiss her softly, before his arms wrap around all three of them, a large blanket dropping around her shoulders to encompass them all.
The mother tilts her head back, looking for a long, deep moment into the eyes of her husband as he holds his family close, where they belong: in his arms. She looks back down, noting the children have curled up and rested their heads against her stomach, starting to drift off.
Her family. |
|
|
|
Post by dragonaair on Jun 21, 2011 7:58:53 GMT
Warning, there's some language/swearing, adult themes, etc...
He gripped my shoulder and threw me back into the wall, sending shockwaves of pain through my frame. I screeched out but that only made him press more pressure on my shoulder. I couldn’t stop the tears falling from my eyes. The sudden shift in my life was too great to bear and I was cracking. Sobs wracked my body and Bryce smiled in content.
“Is my filthy little slave going to behave?” He snarled, moving his lips close to my neck.
What lay beneath his lips was not ordinary; a pair of lethal daggers. Instinctively I squirmed away. I did not want to feel them penetrate my neck. It was such agony and my body was already suffering from blood loss. Maybe he would kill me one day but I didn’t think it would be soon.
“Don’t squirm you bitch.” Bryce barked. “Now answer my question! Are you going to behave?”
His breath was arctic, likewise of his hands. The hands pinning me against the wall sent tendrils of cold throughout my body. It caused me to shake harder.
“Y-yes! Yes I’ll behave!” I blubbered, almost unable to form a sentence.
Delight shot across Bryce’s face as he stared at me. I’ve been tall and strong my entire life but under his steady dominant gaze and radical height, I felt like a child; small and weak, powerless to do anything. I had only felt like this after my father died but this time it felt a million times worse. I felt his arm relax just a little bit but I did not dare to move. Bryce probably had unlimited means to torture me if I misbehaved again; being thrown on the floor and wall repeatedly was likely mediocre to him.
“Good,” he whispered. Bryce moved his head so that we were at eye contact. His light brown eyes bore into mine and I resisted the urge to look away. I studied his features to try and distract myself from his nearing lips. Like almost all of the other vampires, his skin was deathly white and cold, however there was a hint of pink in the nose and cheeks; it was overshadowed by the black circles around his eyes. Bryce had very small almond shaped eyes with thin long lashes. His lips were big and thick, making his nose and eyes look even smaller. Bryce did not have as many scars as the Dealers but there was one significant scratch near his eyebrow; it was messy and jagged. It was also blackened and somewhat faded but still there nonetheless.
As if reading my curiosity, Bryce brought his lips to my ear and murmured, “One of my slave bitches did that because I raped her. Do you want to know what I did to her afterwards? I cut off her limbs off bit by bit...”
My eye twitched and I could not move even if I wanted to. Gory images flashed through my mind and I could just imagine the poor woman strapped to a table, writhing around, Bryce cackling like mad...
My breath came out in fast, loud, irregular breaths. I closed my eyes, wishing to be back in London. I had no idea where I was but I just knew I wanted to be home.
“Deary, are you frightened? There’s no need to be. I’ll play with you later though – I have deeds that need to be done.” I did not want to think about what those ‘deeds’ were.
“Come, let me show you to your ‘suite’”, Bryce said with a short laugh.
He grabbed my wrist roughly and pulled me down into a kitchen-looking area. I winced and gasped in pain as he pulled my probably broken arm. Working in the kitchens were other humans, their heads downcast in fear and lost hope. All of them were females, bone thin and some even had a small round belly that announced they were pregnant. I did not have time to look for long however because Bryce shoved me into another hallway, down a rickety broken staircase that led to a basement. Even though I felt very faint, I had confusion as to why they were pregnant. First, I was kidnapped. Then, I was sold as a slave. And then there are other slaves, who are pregnant. Not much of this made sense although it could just be because there was no clarity left in my brain.
Down and down the staircase we go, Bryce half dragging me. The steps creak under our weight and I have a quick image of it breaking, and I plunging into the darkness forever. What an escape from this nightmare it would be. Finally we reach solid ground and our footsteps echo into the abyss. The floor is cobblestone and it is dark and mouldy; splotches of dried blood occasionally etched into the cracks. This did not surprise me. Everywhere in this village was blood and it seemed that they did not care enough to clean it up. The walls were made of the same material and were equally filthy.
“Come on,” he grunted.
We went down the hallway a bit further and then went through another set of doors. Iron and unbreakable but rusted. Again, another hallway, through one more door and then we were in a small grubby room. It was dark and dank, hopelessness engraved in the very room. It smelled of a rotting carcass, sweat and filth. There was a prison-cell like cage that took up most of the area with bars that were rotted like the previous door but looked much more ancient. Inside the cell were a couple of torn mattresses, tattered soiled blankets and a bucket.
|
|
|
|
Post by Zoe on Jun 24, 2011 22:53:15 GMT
This is nowhere near perfect, and is just a first draft, but I thought it'd just be fun to write for, well, fun. This isn't really a serious story, just something I wrote when I was bored. "Mikey!" the screeching voice echoing into my bedroom was all too familiar. "You come here right now!" I shut off my radio, and pulled my eyes away from the blinding lightness radiating from my laptop.
"God, take a chill pill," I muttered, and stood. My door creaked as I swung it open and ran down the stairs. At the bottom, the beautiful sight of my sister, Angela, was pulling an aghast expression.
"You," she growled lowly, "You left the toilet seat up, again! I fell all the way in this time!" I held back laughter as she whacked the back of my head.
"Um, sorry?" It was more of a question than a statement, which seemed to make Angela furious.
"Sorry?" she asked, fuming. "Sorry? Sorry does not help at all! Mikey, I swear, if you leave the toilet seat up one more time, I'm going to kill you!" Her stomps were heard all the way down the hall, followed by an ear-piercing slamming of a door.
|
|
