Katie B.

United States

Hi! My name is Katie. I am a sixteen years old, and I really enjoy reading and writing. When I'm not daydreaming or playing my violin, you can find me sketching, baking, wake boarding, swimming or skiing.

Message from Writer

Hi! I love reading and writing, and I can't wait to keep improving my creative writing skills! In my free time, I like to play the violin, cook, ski, wakeboard, swim, and do art projects.


October 28, 2015

PROMPT: Open Prompt

    We used to be best friends. We used to do everything together. Everything was perfect before the party.

    The tiles lining the floor of her new apartment gleamed, and my feet sank into the plush white rug that I was standing upon. Everything about her was perfect. Her gold sequined dress was perfect, her long, wavy hair was perfect, even her french manicure was perfect. I could sense the happiness radiating off of her, warming the whole room as if a comforting fire was burning in a fireplace. I, however, wasn't so lucky.

    My old, worn black dress felt dull in comparison to her shimmering gold. Even though I had done my hair and nails to the best of my ability, they still looked sloppy and sad next to her professionally done masterpeieces. Why couldn't I be as perfect, as wealthy, as happy as her? 

    And suddenly, I knew that all of this had to change. I wanted that dress. I wanted that apartment. I wanted that happiness. I slipped out the door, traveled down the elevator, and ran out into the streets of New York CIty.

    It was easier than expected, actually. A quick wardrobe swap, a crowbar, and a little bit of sneaking was all I needed to complete what I had come for. I've always had a knack for cracking codes.

    That night, I slept in the guest bed in her apartment. She suspected nothing, so I stashed the treasure in a silver jewelry box, a place where it would seem at home. I crawled into the silk sheets, pulled the fluffy comforter up to my chin, and closed my eyes, not a care in the world. I was safe.

    The next morning, a wail of sirens filled my ears as I cracked my eyes open. Startled, I grabbed the bag from the jewelry box and hid behind the dresser.

    "I told you, I'm not Marda!" A voice screamed.

    "I'm Maria, her twin sister. LET ME GO! PLEASE!" 

    The voice faded as the door slammed, hitting me like a cold, hard slap in the face. I exhaled slowly, not knowing what to think. Suddenly, footsteps came pounding down the hall.

    One... two... one... two... one... two...

    I grabbed the bag, threw open the window, and jumped.

    Now I sit here, many years later, in my little house in the country, with average clothes, average furniture, average hair, and a very special diamond necklace. Every day, I look into the mirror by my bed and admire the beauty and wealth of those large gems.

    Yet the stones grow heavier every day, and my neck finds it difficult to support the wealth that isn't mine. Maria sits in a cold cell day by day, captive of a crime that she is innocent of. She waits patiently for her death, secretly hoping that it will be sooner rather than later. Once dead, she is free. And I sit in a dull but comfortable house, wearing one of the most expensive peices of jewelry on the planet, yet I will never be as happy as Maria was. I am held captive by my own guilt, and I will never escape.

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