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CCReed

United States

Love to write. Doesn't matter if it's good.

Message from Writer

Please read, critique, read again, and enjoy yourselves thoroughly. If needed, read again and critique harshly. I'm always looking to improve my writing.

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CCReed (United States) published:

Just Sing

PROMPT: Timeless Counsel

He looked down at me quizzically, his right eye squinted in that funny way of his.
"It's not that hard. Just sing."
Although that phrase seems so simple, it's stuck with me my whole life. This phrase has led me to begin to have the courage to do other things when I'm worried about what people will say or think. It's led me to tell myself, just dance. Just ask. Just go for it. Just be you. So here's my...

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CCReed (United States) published:

Drive

FREE WRITING

I long to have you caress my thick brown hair like you caress the steering wheel on those left turns- one hand over the other, smoothly, running your fingers softly along the edge as it moves back into place. I long to have you press your feet on top of mine like you press the brake- slowly, so sure of yourself, then sliding your foot off the brake and so assuredly moving it to the gas pedal. I long to...

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CCReed (United States) published:

Houseless Home

PROMPT: Geography of Home

I believe there is a difference between a house and a home. A house is a place you live in. A home is where you belong.

For me, my home is anywhere that I'm with the people I love. My favorite room is the school library- specifically, the stone bench on the right side of the school library, next to the graphic novels. Stone benches aren't exactly the most comfortable seats, but I could sit there all day as long...

Seeking Peer Reviews

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Published Work

Timeless Counsel

Just Sing

He looked down at me quizzically, his right eye squinted in that funny way of his.
"It's not that hard. Just sing."
Although that phrase seems so simple, it's stuck with me my whole life. This phrase has led me to begin to have the courage to do other things when I'm worried about what people will say or think. It's led me to tell myself, just dance. Just ask. Just go for it. Just be you. So here's my advice to you; just sing. Because once you can do that- you can lead yourself to do anything.

Drive

I long to have you caress my thick brown hair like you caress the steering wheel on those left turns- one hand over the other, smoothly, running your fingers softly along the edge as it moves back into place. I long to have you press your feet on top of mine like you press the brake- slowly, so sure of yourself, then sliding your foot off the brake and so assuredly moving it to the gas pedal. I long to have you look at me like you stare ahead at the road- those deep eyes taking in every detail, every curve, every turn, every pot-hole and crack. When I ride with you I hardly notice the imperfections in the road, you drive so well. I wonder if you notice the imperfections in me, and you just choose to ride around them, make the road seem smooth and flawless. I long to hear you sing to me like you sing to...

Geography of Home

Houseless Home

I believe there is a difference between a house and a home. A house is a place you live in. A home is where you belong.

For me, my home is anywhere that I'm with the people I love. My favorite room is the school library- specifically, the stone bench on the right side of the school library, next to the graphic novels. Stone benches aren't exactly the most comfortable seats, but I could sit there all day as long as my friends are there with me, just talking and listening or sitting there in silence. A lot of stuff happens on or near that bench. Every school day. We all migrate over there as if we own it, even though it's school property. I always feel safest when I'm sitting on it.
We've done a lot on that bench. We've not only sat on it- we've stood on it just to make the librarian's upset, laughed on it so...

Living Locales

Heart

I can feel the heartbeat of the city underneath my feet, thumping in a perfectly timed rhythm. I kneel down on the rough asphalt skin of the road and press my ear up against it, trying to find the source of the steady beating. There is an aura of excitement in the city tonight- you can feel it in the air. The air is hazy, almost as if the city is quivering in anticipation, abuzz with activity and unable to hold still. I find the source of the heartbeat- a bass drum beating inside a building. The energy of excitement increases, causing the hairs on the back of my neck to go static, my own heartbeat getting faster as I near the building. It's almost unbearable- being this close to the city heart, the energy pumping, continuously pumping. I hear music and shouting inside, and that incessant thumping of the bass drum. I feel my own excitement rising, my feet...

Not Enough

I learned today that sometimes just because you do the right thing doesn't mean everything gets better from there. Sometimes it just gets worse.

I'm tired of people telling me I did the "right thing". She's still gone.

We all knew she had depression issues. In fact, she wouldn't shut up about them. "Don't tease me like that!" she would yell, "I have depression, remember?" She used this fact as a defensive weapon, and to be honest, we got sick of it. I'd crack a joke and she'd automatically take offense to it. Eventually we just dismissed this as a fact that she had absolutely no sense of humor and tell our jokes to each other when she wasn't around. But then she would start complaining that she felt left out. We would start laughing about something someone said and she would ask, "when did that happen?" we would all give each other looks and say,"Sorry, you weren't there." Then...

Turned to Stone

Run

It was dark. Not just the kind of dark you can see with your eyes, but the kind of dark you could feel. Thick, chilled, the kind of dark that made your forehead sweat, your hands clammy, your heart thump twenty times faster than it was supposed to. It was the kind of dark that made your feet numb and your ears perk up at the slightest sound. It was the kind of dark that made you want to run. And run she did- right into the man who was going to kill her.

Collective Voice

WE

One, yet many,
WE
watch with our eyes,
Feel with our hands,
WE
wait.
What are we waiting for?
A question to be answered-
For we don't even know.
An unknown force,
Brings us together,
and tells us
to be patient.

Different, but the same,
WE
tread our own path,
make our own rules,
WE
create.
What are we making?
Our own version of the world-
One we can live in without fear,
A world only we can see,
No one else
Can enter.

Poetry and Spoken Word Competition

Intriguing Stranger

So careful but so careless,
You trod these golden fields;
Alone, but friendly,
A nod and a smile to those around you.
Your head's not in the clouds,
But you keep looking at the sky;
You're a living, breathing being,
But there's a dead heart behind your eyes.
Why do you seem so full of light,
With all this darkness surrounding you?
How can you not see me,
When my image reflects itself in your eyes?
You act like you're free,
But you know you're trapped;
You've always had limits,
Yet you pretend they're not there.
You break down walls as if they never existed,
They say you're predictable,
But you always keep me guessing.
You've been around for forever,
But I meet you again every day.
Your smile is somehow sad,
And your words void of meaning.
Why are you here,
When you know how to leave?
My curiosity is overwhelming,
You're so full of wisdom,
But you give...

Bittersweet

Life was sweet,
Before you came along.
Dancing and laughing,
And singing your own little song.
Life stayed sweet,
For the first little while,
But then came the day,
When I saw myself in your smile.
Suddenly, my life had a new flavor-
There was something a little more bitter,
I may have accidentally added it myself,
Just to make my heart flitter.
But I find myself liking this bittersweet-
Even with this knowledge that there will never be a you and me,
I still lie to myself, make up excuses,
Even though I know it will never be.
You still egg me on, though, without even trying-
Our lips were inches apart,
We were this close,
Why do you have to do this to my weak little heart?
It's never been broke before,
Oh, here we go again-
You're giving me that look,
You're grinning that grin.
You're coming ever closer,
You know you're going to win,
This battle...

Synchronized Sounds

Lost in You

Beaten, blackened, burned,
I hold on to you.
Rosy, risen,  rejoicing,
You open your arms and let me through.
Crazy, care-free, courageous,
I find myself in your smile.
Weightless, wandering, wistful,
Yes, we both know it's been a while.
Fearless, free, faded,
Our past will be left behind.
Oblivious, ominous, opaque,
Slowly, we'll both go blind.
Intuitive, innocence intrude,
We'll get lost in each other-
Lingering, lasting, love,
We'll stray from one life to get lost in another.

Lungs

I somehow find myself holding my breath
When you walk through the door.
I find my eyes wandering
Over towards your face.
Loss for words,
For breath.
Lungs,
Left empty.
You leave me,
Gasping for air.
The release of breath-
It leaves my chest shaking.
I make sure you're not looking,
As I try to regain my breath.
 

Lungs

I somehow find myself holding my breath,
When you walk through the door.
I find my eyes wandering,
Over towards your face.
Loss for words,
For breath.
Lungs,
Left empty.
You leave me,
Gasping for air.
The release of breath,
It leaves my chest shaking.
I make sure you're not looking,
As I try to regain my breath.
 

Creature View

Firefly

A small firefly wakes up to the sight of a setting Ohio sun against the rolling farmlands, the tip just barely visible above the hills. Most of the sky is dark, with a few stars starting to glimmer in the Eastern sky. Wiggling its body out of its hiding-hole, the bug lifts itself into the air and starts letting of its blinking light, drifting lazily between the tall blades of grass. Suddenly, the bug feels massive hands gently wrapping around him, warm and moist and sweaty.

"They look like stars that fell on the ground," A young voice says from above the tiny creature as she opens her palm a crack, peeking through the space in between her fingers, "And when they fly, they look like they're trying to get back up to the sky." The firefly continued blinking, shaking it's wings in an attempt to get out of the dark enclosure it was now trapped in.

"Do you want...

Finding Myself part 2

"Friendship- nothing can break it. It is too strong, too personal, between one person and another. Only one of those two people can cut the bond that ties these two people together, and it is heartbreaking when that happens. The string was thin, woven with great care and softness by one person and carelessly weaved by another. A fake.
A true friendship is woven meticulously by both people, making sure the strands are strong and will never snap or strain.
 Sometimes, the two strings have threads that branch out to other people, creating a net, ready to catch one of the dear friends when life is hard on them and they fall. A friendship is not understood by anyone else- there are different reasons, different circumstances as to why people are friends with each other. The whole world can try and cut those strings, but their scissors break. The bond is too thick. Friendship is a powerful word, a word...

I Remember

I Remember the End

I remember the one time you were there for me, how you had a shadow hiding your face. I remember you stood behind me, protectively, but I didn't notice you were there. I remember I didn't notice much- I was too scared. I remember how they were coming towards me, surrounding me like a pack of wolves, and suddenly you appeared. I remember how you fought like a tiger, how a feeling crept into my heart telling me I was safe. I remember how you looked at me with your mischievous grin even though you were in pain. I remember the warmth your arms as they held me for the first and last time. I remember thinking, I'll never see you again.

I remember how that was when our story ended.... I remember how we started writing a new one.
 

Beyond Reason

Falling for a Friend

Talk to me, friend,
Why is my silence mistaken for sadness?
Why am I sitting here,
Thinking constantly,
Only to think of you?
Why does everything I see,
And the words I hear,
Remind me of you?
How did you manage,
To enter my heart so quietly,
Without doing anything at all?
Why does the smile on your face,
Somehow manage,
To bring my heart pain?
How can you look at me so,
Without ever realizing,
What you're doing to me?
Why do my words stumble,
And my knees shake,
When I stand near you?

Talk to me friend,
How did I manage,
To fall for someone like you?

Flaws and Dead Things

Viewpoint 1:
I think I know more about you now that you're gone than I did when you were here.

Have you ever noticed that you would tell me the same stories over and over again as if it were my first time hearing about it? How you would take an experimental sniff of your milk before you drank it to make sure it wasn't rotten? I asked you why one time- you told me rotten milk doesn't taste good. It's funny now. I remember the little things about you that I probably never would've noticed had you not left. Like how you managed to sound confident but look nervous at the same time. Why did you avoid eye contact with me when we were touching? You couldn't keep your eyes off me when we were standing across the room. Did you ever notice how you used to strangle the life out of every single plastic water bottle you got...

Ghosts// Flaws and Dead Things cont.

Viewpoint 1:

I think I see your ghost, but I can never be sure.

I'm going through life the way I used to, but for some reason I still see you- even though I know you're gone. Why did you leave me like this? You were capable of rescuing me. You must have let your pride get in the way. You always were afraid of gaining a bad ego. Just because I'm a little on the crazy side didn't mean you had to abandon me. Saying these things about you will only make me angry and hurt for a few seconds, because no matter what I focus on about you, I still miss you. Every part of you. Sure, you were boastful, but the way you would puff out your proud chest and look down on me with that huge grin as you boasted won't leave my mind. How you would admit your weak side to me in undertones as...

Your View

Brutally Honest

* The worst thing to do is to start comparing people.
It's like comparing apples and oranges. They're both fruits, but they're nowhere near the same. We're all people, but it's so unfair to compare us to each other.
* You know you have a best friend when they call your parents "Mom" and "Dad".
That's right. I call their parents "Mom" and "Dad" too.
* Just because I don't fit the stereotype doesn't mean you should kick me out.
So what? I'm a writer and an athlete? A cowgirl wearing tennis shoes? A genius among the drop-outs? Don't judge me. They're all amazing people. WE are all amazing people. If I'm trying to make friends with you, consider yourself lucky.
* Maybe people would stop feeling less lonely if we would all actually TALK to each other.
Face-to-face communication? What's that? Oh, you can form words with your mouth? I just use my thumbs.
* It's a lot easier...

When The Fuse Dies Out

I don't know exactly what happened, but you lit a spark inside me. It was the longest fuse I've ever seen.

But you must have dropped that match on accident, or mistaken me for a different kind of explosive, because even though I've shared my fire with you, your fuse isn't catching it. The wind keeps blowing it out.

Why did you light my fuse when yours is dead? Why won't the sparks coming off of me catch onto you?

Blinded by the light as the fuse caught, I mistook some of my fire for yours. I thought you were burning as well. But now that the fuse is dying out, I'm starting to see clearly again. Your fire never existed. And if it ever did, then your fuse died out way too quickly.

I'm putting out the fire now before it reaches my heart and takes me over. Maybe you did the same a long time ago.

And this...

This I Believe

Simply Connected

I believe in something some people can't seem to see- I believe in the little connections that bind us all together as one.

1 Photo, 100 Words

Trying Too Hard to Go Nowhere

I only subconsciously noticed the people trying to squeeze past me, trying to get a look at the silhouettes of jellyfish that floated above me, around me. The only thing I did notice was one solitary jellyfish, unusually small compared to the others. I watched him-her, whatever- pumping its little body across the tank, seeming to be overexerting itself in its effort to go nowhere. I broke out in a small smile, reminding me of myself. Trying too hard to go nowhere. I reflected on this thought, and decided that I should probably try to actually go somewhere in life.

WILD

I CAN'T HIDE

I can't hide the wild glint,
Laying hidden in my eye.
I can't hide the untamed dreams,
That haunt me as night passes by.
I can't hide the roguish thoughts,
Whirling through my brain.
I can't hide the pure anticipation,
Running through my veins.
I can't hide the restless anxiety,
Constantly moving my feet,
I can't hide the overgrowth of music,
The rhythm a little-off beat.
I can't hide the pure me,
No matter how hard I try.
I can't hide this wild thing inside me,
That's about to break out-
And fly.

Becoming Human

The Face of a Cliff

 I look up at his menacing figure,
His features I cannot seem to grasp,
Serene, stone-faced,
So calm and yet so fierce,
With one frail hand I reach up,
Digging my fingers into the creases on his forehead,
And the wrinkles in his cheeks,
That come with old age.
Yet he stands still,
As I grope with the other hand,
Climbing up,
Ever higher,
Feeling his rough skin beneath the palm of my hand,
And his furrowed brow holding my unsteady feet.
I marvel at his stubbornness,
That he refuses to move,
Even as the winds howl and beat upon him,
And the eagles swoop up above.
With one more reach of my hand,
I feel the peak of his balding head,
The scarcity of shrubs coming into my vision,
As I tumble over onto his scalp.
And I understand now,
Why he remains unmoving,
With this never ending landscape before me,
For who would want to leave this view?

Writing Synapses

Sentimental Value

CONNECTIONS- Simple Treasures
This week, write about something that triggers your memories. Do you own something that is of more worth to you than what it says on the price tag? Why do you keep it? It could be the taste of a certain food, or a certain smell. Do you take a stroll through the park just to remember an event that happened there? Maybe the tree in your backyard holds eventful memories, or the photograph sitting on your shelf. Do you share a certain joke or phrase with a close friend? It might be a song or melody you listen to.  Write about what holds sentimental value to you, and explain why.

TV Pilot Competition

Going Nowhere

FADE IN:

CHEYENNE, WYOMING-NIGHT

The outline of a burly figure riding on a motorcycle comes into view. SHOUTS are heard from behind an alleyway. A group of boys are circled around a figure wearing a leather jacket in the middle, all holding knives.

RIX (23), standing in the middle, puts his hands up defensively.

RIX: Okay, you guys don't understand. I'm not the guy you're looking for. Just let me get home.

BOY 1 (sneering): Yeah right. Where were you yesterday?

RIX (honestly): Running someone else's errands. I have no clue what you guys are talking about.

BOY 2 (stepping in closer): You were supposed to be here.

RIX (exasperated): I'm not him! I don't even know what you're talking about!

A motorcycle is heard driving down the road.

BOY 1: You will soon enough.

RIX is pushed out onto the street, falling onto the asphalt. The motorcycle SCREECHES to a stop. A burly figure stands up.

JACK (THE SKULL)...

What Came Before

Reflection

I lay in bed, my body absolutely refusing to get up, even though my mind was wide awake. Today would be my last- my last day of mental pain, my last day of uncontrollable restlessness, my last day of High School. No more Mrs. Duncan, no more visits to the Principal's office, no more dumb drama with Carri and no more listening to my supposed "friend" Bridger whine about everything and scaring all of my crushes away. No more math homework that is way harder than the worksheets we do in class and no more trying to take apart Shakespeare and putting it back together. It was all over.

I smiled, tasting my nightly breath on my tongue. It was disgusting enough to enable my body to get out of bed to grab a glass of water. After gulping greedily and almost choking on my water, and went into the bathroom to stare at myself in the mirror.

The awkward...

Cast of Characters

In the Middle of Wyoming

Pitch: Cheyenne, Wyoming, 2000

Rix (23)- a secretly sensitive man with dark hair, blue eyes, and a way of standing that is equivalent to the figure of a hunched gorilla. Originally a city boy from New York, he has now moved to the middle of Cheyenne, Wyoming- something that seems like a mini New York copycat with a lot of Harley hogs. His dreams of building up a car business were crushed years ago, and he now works as a hotel receptionist at Holiday Inn, renting a room out for himself to live in. His New Year's Resolution is to get out of Wyoming and move back to the East coast to got back to college in Cornell University to pursue what he thinks is is second love- robotic engineering. The only reason he's still in Wyoming is because he wants his new love to come with him- Andrea.

Andrea (19)-  a nature genius with a habit of exclaiming "it's...

Self and a Statistic

Followers

Hundreds of people claiming to be my friend.
I hardly know any of them.

My December Competition

Changing December

December for me always begins with a prayer. A constant prayer for snow, for my ever decreasing health, for work, and that maybe,  I will find something under my Christmas tree and that I will have enough money to buy a present for someone else.

It's hard living in a basement during Christmas time. The low windows give us a beautiful view of the shiny, silver window wells, and sometimes the mice chew holes through the screens and make their way into the walls of the house. I can hear them scuttling around at night- it keeps me awake. The whole floor is nothing but cold, square tiles, and I usually end up huddled in a blanket on the couch with everything I need to live gathered around me so that I don't have to use the floor. I've never quite admitted to the fact, but technically my family is homeless. This basement belongs to my generous grandparents living upstairs.
...

Signing Off

Haunt

Dear Phantom,

I'm not only signing off this year, I'm saying goodbye to you, once and for all. Your job with me is over- I'm brushing you off my shoulder and finishing my job of starting over.

I have to say, you weren't the worst thing to have around. You let me know what I needed to change in myself and in my life this year and what I needed to get better at. You've helped me to see myself in a new light and learn that life is a path that you can change the direction of. Although it wasn't easy to whack a few bushes and cut down multiple trees, the view at the end will be breathtaking- I can see it afar off, in the distance. Just a few more mountains to climb and obstacles to get rid of and I'm there. You're one of those obstacles.

You've haunted me so much this year I almost thought...

Finding Myself: Part One

Don't underestimate the power of friendship. Those bonds are tight stitches that close up the holes you might otherwise fall through.
-Richelle E. Goodrich


I used to hate it when people would tell me how much they loved their friends. I felt like I didn't have any that were close enough or worthwhile- the only ones I did have lived far away, and it was hard for me to contact them.

My freshman year of high school was nothing but a cage of ignorance and a fake feeling of connection to a few guys who had told me they were what real friends are.

They were wrong. So, so wrong- and I was so very stupid. I was just an innocent girl who looked like a nice prop standing at the side of a desperate boy. My only role as a friend to these kids was to stand there quietly, laugh giddily at absolutely everything they said, flirt with them...

10 Words

Hopes and Lies

Prayer,
Hope.

Collaboration.

Christ,
Home.

Anticipation.

Numb,
Disappointment.

Affection.

Love.



 

The Peace of Wild Things

Be

When the stars are no more than three inches apart,
Where I find solace in my heart.
When I hear laughter across the fire,
Where dark situations are never dire.
When the world is on the edge of midnight,
Where everything seems just right.
When I reflect on the past and look to the future,
Where the wind does nothing but nurture.
When the pines touch the roof of the world.
Where my deepest dreams become unfurled.
When the night owl's eyes open wide,
Where I can stare back at them with pride.
When I can see nothing but sky around me,
Where I can just simply be.
 

Meeting with Ekán (The Viewpoint of a Sarcastic Assassin)

"Would you like something to drink, tea, perhaps?" Ekán asked, recovering from his initial shock from seeing the true face of the madman. Hajiil was caught off guard.
 
"Uh...no, thanks, I'm good." Hajiil didn't believe in gaining the extra energy from drinks- he had plenty of his own. Ekán led the assassin to a room on the opposite side of the hallway from the room he was in earlier. Ekán gestured to a seat on end of the table and sat on the opposite side. Silence hung suspended in the air for a few seconds; Hajiil finally stirred in his seat and broke it.
 
"What do you want from me?" the assassin exploded, sick of the Master staring him down like a slave-buyer. Ekán scooted his chair forward and rested his fingers on the edge of the table, clearing his throat. Hajiil had a sudden, uncalled for moment of realization; the poor guy's nervous.Hajiil was nervous himself,...

Unnamed

Silver Lining

The color of the edge of dewdrops, dangling off the leaves,
The color of my tears as I fall to my knees.
The color of the heart dangling from my neck,
The color of the lining of the things I'm about to wreck.

The sparkle in your eyes as you smiled at me,
The grin on your face leaning up against that tree.
That scuff on your shoes from last night's dance,
That humble way you put me into a trance.

The color of the snowflakes, clinging to pines,
The color of the faded pencil lines.
The glint of an arrow pulled across the string,
The color of just barely turning sixteen.
The moment the rain just hits the ground,
That feeling you give me as you twirl me around.

The sound of music gliding across a page,
The ring of love when two lives are engaged.
The color of beginnings and the color of ends,
The color of a...

Novel Writing Competition

Thief of Sile'ka

She couldn’t go home. That fact hit her the hardest out of all of them, piled on top of the fact that she would have to steal something she had never even really known existed, and that she would mostly likely be killed, and on top of that the fact that her only friend in the world had disappeared in the confusion. She was leaving tomorrow. But she was going the other way- opposite from her home, away from the ocean that had now become a sign of hope with the knowledge that her family was just on the other side. Now it was just a vast, empty gorge that made her home seem farther and farther away with each passing minute. She felt her fists ball up at her sides in anger; why was Ekán forcing her to steal Sile'ka? Coudn't he just leave the mysterious star alone? Why did he have to send an assassin after her to...

Why I Write

Gasping for Breath

The reason I write is simple-

I write so that I can breathe.

People think the act of breathing is just filling up your lungs with air just to let it all out again. No, breathing is sucking in words, the words that surround me everywhere- I hear them, I see them, I feel them. They crowd into my mind and suffocate me. My eyes see something and automatically, it's naming them, describing them to me, so fast that they're just a blur across my mind. My ears- they hear voices, people talking, so many words, the sound of footsteps, words to describe the rhythm of those footsteps. I touch something, and my mind automatically thinks "soft", "rough", "delicate"- whatever my fingers brush against, my mind describes the feeling. I always have words in my mind, whether it's a song stuck in my head or I'm wondering how someone else feels. If I don't write for too long, I get...

Walking

Phantoms beside Angels

The man didn't really walk- his legs were too long. Instead, he seemed to float, a phantom wearing old, worn, brown leather boots. Sometimes, his heels touched the ground, when he attempted to walk like what people thought of as a "normal" human being- someone who was tough, manly, careless yet at the same time somehow successful. He would purposefully increase the soft brushing sound his steps made into the sound of a far-off drum that was a little off-beat, trying to become noticed without being noticeable. He hoped this would help hide his shroud of mystery in a shroud of pride, spy and stay hidden while being seen. His was the gliding walk of a dark superior, someone who had no business being there, whose shadow you felt but whose figure you could never quite make out. Sometimes, when he is alone, the knees buckle and he falls to the ground. His legs shake in agony without feeling any...

Meeting with Ekán (The Viewpoint of a Sarcastic Assassin)

"Would you like something to drink, tea, perhaps?" Ekán asked, recovering from his initial shock from seeing the true face of the madman. Hajiil was caught off guard.
 
"Uh...no, thanks, I'm good." Hajiil didn't believe in gaining the extra energy from drinks- he had plenty of his own. Ekán led the assassin to a room on the opposite side of the hallway from the room he was in earlier. Ekán gestured to a seat on end of the table and sat on the opposite side. Silence hung suspended in the air for a few seconds; Hajiil finally stirred in his seat and broke it.
 
"What do you want from me?" the assassin exploded, sick of the Master staring him down like a slave-buyer. Ekán scooted his chair forward and rested his fingers on the edge of the table, clearing his throat. Hajiil had a sudden, uncalled for moment of realization; the poor guy's nervous.Hajiil was nervous himself,...

Mixtape

My Earbuds

When I put my earbuds in, I'm not here anymore- mentally, that is. I'm living in the past, listening to the sweetest and most bitter moments of my life put to song- because I want to remember both.

I struggled with some inner "Demons" (Imagine Dragons), and I felt like I couldn't look anyone in the eye for the longest time- head down, keep walking. It was all in shame of something I was, connected to something I had done. It took me forever to find myself feeling "Human" (Of Monsters and Men") again, someone who had real feelings, real thoughts that didn't connect to something nasty and monstrous. My thoughts had been "Heathens" (Twenty-One Pilots), and I couldn't get them to leave me alone, always there, lurking around a corner, shadows of the monsters in my mind.

I've moved a lot in my life, but it was in the time when the sky was nothing but overcast gray...

Hold Your Breath

Sh, I'm going to let you go.
Jump,
Fall.
I'll be here when you come back.
Run,
See.
Open up your eyes, I'm right here.
Close,
Sleep.
I'll hold you in my arms.
Tight,
Safe.
You won't know where you go with me.
Fly,
Breathe.
Now hold it in.

The world is waiting for us.



 

Rewilding

Abeuri

Abeuri- the still silence of air- suspended, where time is frozen. The taste of water on your tongue, the smell of rain on wet cement, even though the ground is dry.  The expectation of rain in the western hemisphere.

You pause on your way, feeling as if you have to match the silence that surrounds you. You breathe in moisture, breathe it back out. Everything has stopped. The temperature, the wind, the sound of the birds, time. Everything is waiting, waiting for the rain.

The first drops come- you feel the first one on your nose, then your arm. You lift your face up- more drops splatter across your cheeks, your forehead, sliding down your chin, entangling themselves in your lashes. Abeuri has passed; the rain has begun.
 

10 Second Essays

Opinionated Truths

1. We've all had a childish yearning to fly- even those of us scared of heights.
2.  When we run into something we don't understand, why do we always abandon it and try to run away?
3. My clothes don't tell you my emotions- my eyes do.... you just never seem to want to look at them for long enough.
4. Apparently, in this world, "pretty" and "popular" mean the same thing- it's very, very rare to be both.
5. Out of all the seconds of the day, how many do you really think are of you being yourself?
6. Opinions can be truth- it really just depends on who you're talking to.

One Sentence Story

Gravity of a Situation

I hadn't exactly planned on doing this; I never did say yes, but here I was, millions and millions of people chanting my name, chanting for freedom, as I stood above the empty air on the edge of the cliff, preparing for a long, heart-wrenching push from my dear friend Gravity as I reluctantly stepped off and held my breath.

Inventory

Marika

Marika Emalee
Age 19
Temporary Residence in Gailatii, Joberjaun (Not Real)

The cloaked man knelt down slowly in the snow, spotting a brown, rumpled lump lying half-buried in the hardened flakes. Digging with hands free of gloves, he uncovered the small lump and held it up so that the shivering girl next to him could see its contents as they both rummaged through it.

Each item they found sparked a memory in the cloaked man's mind, triggering some thought or flashback:

The first item was an old, worn doll, obviously made by a very inexperienced toymaker, it's eyes two circles of smeared charcoal drawn on the fabric face, no mouth, and hair made of yarn that was tangled and matted. A memory flashed through the man's mind, short and sweet, of a hand- his hand- handing the doll to a chubby, young girl, keeping it just out of her reach so that she had to jump up to get it.
...

Thinking Back

I remember the night wasn't too cold, but just chilly enough that I felt the need to pull up the sleeping bag as close to my face as possible. I had chosen a spot just between two trees, where there was a small opening through which I could see the edge of the Big Dipper. Stars and constellations I didn't recognize stirred and flickered up in the sky. One flew above the trees to disappear in a flash. My little brother slept in a cot above my head, stirring restlessly in his sleep. I turned my head to see the outline of my friend sleeping on her cot on my right, just far enough from my line of vision that I couldn't see her features in the dark. My mind played a scene across my mind, a playback scene of a cloudy day in 5th grade, of children playing in the huge parking lot in front of the school because of...

7 Cubed

Out Under the Stars

Out beneath the stars. That's where I told them they'd find me. I didn't give them any specific details; I just told them I was going home. I took a break from my long run and sat down in the grass, the grass that was tall enough to tickle my nostrils as I leaned back against it. I twirled a blade of it between my fingers as I looked up towards my ceiling- the sky. My nightlights flickered at me from their bulbs, surrounding me in a soft, green glow as the small fireflies rose up from the earth. I lay back against my floor- deciding I didn't want to find a bed tonight- and fell into a restless sleep.

Away

You glad you met me?
Since now I have to go?
You never said that before,
So I never did know.
You say you want me,
Now that I have to leave.
You were smiling before,
Now you have reason to grieve.
You say I'm special now,
When I wasn't before?
I can't be here,
Now you want me more.
I thought I knew you,
But it turns out I don't.
You want me to stay,
But time says I won't.
Why are there tears in your eyes?
I've never seen them till today,
I feel myself fading,
As you whisper, "please don't go away."

1 Photo, 20 Words

Beauty Called Space

Eyes reflect stars
Feeling my insignificance
Yet my part
Standing here
Face towards the sky
At this beauty called space

Distant Dreams

My heart is a butterfly,
It flutters in my chest,
Longing to glide and float above the grasses,
and brush its wings against the soft petals of the spring lilies.
My soul is a bird,
Trapped in its cage,
And it sings a song of sorrow,
And joy when it sees the sky or feels the wind.
My mind is a dream,
Taking me wherever I want to go,
Finding lost things,
When my thoughts are deep.
My body is a cage,
Keeping these lovely things inside me,
Hoping one day to release them and break free.
Looking at the sky is like wanting something you can't get.
Feeling the wind is like hearing someone speak when you can't understand them.
Touching the flowers is like touching someone who will never forgive you.
Sitting in a tree is like a stranger that you've met before.
Seeing the clouds is like looking at a place that you've gone before,
But knowing...

Universal Knowledge

Failure

One language the whole world understands and relates to is failure- that feeling of letting yourself down, letting others down, of having something not work out the way you wanted it to, and then realizing there was room for improvement.

Assassin's Thief

1:
Her foot slipped and she started to fall. Astrix grunted as she regained her footing and swung back up onto the roof, her knuckles turning white as she gripped the shingles.
 
Don't. Let. Go. Her head pounded with the words, her heart beating with them as she muttered them to herself over and over again. She could envision the guard below her turning around, gun cocked, aimed at her head. The finger would pull back the trigger...
 
She gulped as she thought about the result. The fear was finally enough to push her over the edge of the house and onto the roof. She lay there for a minute, breathing heavily.
 
You almost died. The realization smacked her in the face. How many moments had there been when she had brushed past death in her life? Astrix shook her head. Too many to count, yet every time she felt breathless afterwards, frightened. The blood rushed...

Open Prompt

Drifting

You’re drifting,
Drifting,
Out of sight.
I run to say hello,
Wrong,
Try to make it right.
I feel your anger,
Pain,
I want to fix it.
I don’t know how,
Try,
I can’t do it.
My heart twists,
Reach,
Reaching out for you.
Getting pushed away,
Shunned,
Trying to find out why.
Asking around,
Help,
No answers.
Is it unraveling,
Friendship,
Fading away?
It can’t be,
No,
Just a misunderstanding.
My fault,
Yours,
Both of us?
You’re drifting,
Drifting,
Out of sight.
Away from me,
Look,
I’m here for you.
Even when you come back,
Always,
I’ll be waiting.
Waiting just for you.
Friends,
Yes, because I’m your friend.
 
 

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