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neo7v

United States

I am fifteen years old and have been writing since I was eight years old. I love writing anything, except for essays, but that's to be expected from someone of my age, in my opinion at least.

Message from Writer

Write from the things and places you know best because they're always where the best ideas bloom from.

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neo7v (United States) published:

Faded Yellow Desk

FREE WRITING

    In an English classroom, in the sixth row from the door in the very back of the room, there is a faded yellow desk, quite different than the rest. It's a small desk, compared to the others, and quite sad looking too. With its cracked, yellow painted surface and squeaking joints. The tan surface of the desk is also scratched, long and curvy and short lines looping together to give the desk life. Lead filled dots are scattered throughout these...

Seeking Peer Reviews

about 6 hours ago

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neo7v (United States) liked My Love by 15dopecats15 (United States)

about 20 hours ago

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neo7v (United States) liked Remember by Jacob Barrett (New Zealand)

about 20 hours ago

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neo7v (United States) published:

Imagining If

FREE WRITING

If trinkets were fickle
And the rain just a trickle
The world would be torn upside down

If the clouds were made of cotton
And sweat poured without stoppin’
It would be the strangest of cities and towns

If everyone could fly
All around the blue sky
The clouds would then be just some people

If the birds could all speak
Then they would just sneak
Around and be spies as they wheeple

If just someone could love
Like the...

Seeking Peer Reviews

about 21 hours ago

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neo7v (United States) liked Bucket List #2 by foxmillionaire! (Canada)

2 days ago

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neo7v (United States) published:

The Dining of Predators

FREE WRITING

The Pouncing predators will dine between
The gallows inside both minds that will find
We are then dancing onwards to this fate
Where today only, all sing satisfied

When no one knows why that is happening
Since frankly all we’ve done is act, scream, scare
We’ll never know when no one tells us why
The predators will dine between these ...

Seeking Peer Reviews

2 days ago

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neo7v (United States) published:

Ode to Wainwright

FREE WRITING

Before I leave Wainwright
There is so much I need to do
And one of these things is confessing all this to you
My heart has been so broken
Throughout all of these three years
And I’m not lying when I say I’ll leave this school in tears
I’ll never forget the day
I first came to this great place
As jumpy as a rabbit when I first saw your face
Wainwright is my home
And the place I’ve come...

Seeking Peer Reviews

2 days ago

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neo7v (United States) published:

Better Than Me

FREE WRITING

    Why do we keep doing this? Repeating the same thing over and over again, but still expecting a different result.
    It's madness. Madness that I keep crawling back to you, even as my stomach turns sourly at the mere mention of your name. Someone help me. Help me stop this cycle of hurt. And anguish. And pain.
    I wish I could run away and forget you. Forget that we had ever met in the first place, but I...

Seeking Peer Reviews

2 days ago

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neo7v (United States) liked In Front of the Office by Suit of Swords (Philippines)

2 days ago

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neo7v (United States) liked k n e a d by agustdv (United Arab Emirates)

3 days ago

Published Work

Faded Yellow Desk

    In an English classroom, in the sixth row from the door in the very back of the room, there is a faded yellow desk, quite different than the rest. It's a small desk, compared to the others, and quite sad looking too. With its cracked, yellow painted surface and squeaking joints. The tan surface of the desk is also scratched, long and curvy and short lines looping together to give the desk life. Lead filled dots are scattered throughout these lines, looking like constellations on a clear night sky.
    The desks around it all look the same; large, smooth, tan surfaces and ruby red seats ready for the next students to sit in them and learn. Aluminum metal cages that keep the desks together, looking brand new and shiny and perfect next to the faded yellow desk that nobody wants.
    There's a girl that sits in the faded yellow desk, galaxy shoes and constant tapping coming...

Imagining If

If trinkets were fickle
And the rain just a trickle
The world would be torn upside down

If the clouds were made of cotton
And sweat poured without stoppin’
It would be the strangest of cities and towns

If everyone could fly
All around the blue sky
The clouds would then be just some people

If the birds could all speak
Then they would just sneak
Around and be spies as they wheeple

If just someone could love
Like the souls from above
I would then willingly weep

If my love would love me
I’d be happy as can be
And to the skies and beyond I would leap

The Dining of Predators

The Pouncing predators will dine between
The gallows inside both minds that will find
We are then dancing onwards to this fate
Where today only, all sing satisfied

When no one knows why that is happening
Since frankly all we’ve done is act, scream, scare
We’ll never know when no one tells us why
The predators will dine between these lies

Ode to Wainwright

Before I leave Wainwright
There is so much I need to do
And one of these things is confessing all this to you
My heart has been so broken
Throughout all of these three years
And I’m not lying when I say I’ll leave this school in tears
I’ll never forget the day
I first came to this great place
As jumpy as a rabbit when I first saw your face
Wainwright is my home
And the place I’ve come to love
With you here too it’s so much like the heaven far above
I’ve always managed to find solace
In books and of the like
And I’ll sure miss this small Wonderland where I’ve never felt fike
It’s at this school I met you
With your wittiness and smarts
I know this won’t happen now, but only if we’d been sweethearts
The hallways are filled up
With my tears and my regret
But it’s also filled with so much...

Better Than Me

    Why do we keep doing this? Repeating the same thing over and over again, but still expecting a different result.
    It's madness. Madness that I keep crawling back to you, even as my stomach turns sourly at the mere mention of your name. Someone help me. Help me stop this cycle of hurt. And anguish. And pain.
    I wish I could run away and forget you. Forget that we had ever met in the first place, but I can't. Your in my mind. In every happy and sad memory I have. I guess this is the drawback of meeting your soulmate at such a young age, but realizing early on that it won't ever work out right. No matter how many times you try.
    I guess I deserve this. Deserve losing you. It was my fault anyways. That we broke up. That we don't fit together anymore. I made things complicated. Made us complicated when they...

Saturday of Tears and Ice Cream

    It's always the slow days that affect you the most. The ones stress free and full with the potential of innocent wonders. Where there's no work to be found and little to do in the ways of activities. You're stuck at home. With books and the television and that puzzle you keep putting off.
    But you don't want to do any of those things, so you lay in bed till noon. Wondering what you're going to do today and trying to muster up the courage to finally leave your nest of blankets and pillows.
    When you finally do leave, it's only because you need to use the restroom. At that point you're already out of bed and the sun is too bright through the curtains so you have to get up, right? At least, that's what your brain is repeating sluggishly to itself.
    So downstairs you go and onto the couch you...

Saturday of Tears and Ice Cream

    It's always the slow days that affect you the most. The ones stress free and full with the potential of innocent wonders. Where there's no work to be found and little to do in the ways of activities. You're stuck at home. With books and the television and that puzzle you keep putting off.
    But you don't want to do any of those things, so you lay in bed till noon. Wondering what you're going to do today and trying to muster up the courage to finally leave your nest of blankets and pillows.
    When you finally do leave, it's only because you need to use the restroom. At that point you're already out of bed and the sun is too bright through the curtains so you have to get up, right? At least, that's what your brain is repeating sluggishly to itself.
    So downstairs you go and onto the couch you...

Saturday of Tears and Ice Cream

    It's always the slow days that affect you the most. The ones stress free and full with the potential of innocent wonders. Where there's no homework to be found and little to do in the ways of activities. You're home stuck. With books and the television and that puzzle you keep putting off.
    But you don't want to do any of those things, so you lay in bed till noon. Wondering what you're going to do today and trying to muster up the courage to finally leave your nest of blankets and pillows.
    When you finally do leave, it's only because you need to use the restroom. At that point you're already out of bed and the sun is too bright through the curtains so you have to get up, right? At least, that's what your brain is repeating sluggishly to itself.
    So downstairs you go and onto the couch you flop....

The Hollowed Tree

    There's a tree in the woods of your backyard that feels more like home than your own sometimes. It's quite a large tree, it's inside hollowed out from years of decay and insects of the invasive, endangering sort and pine needles surround the outside like a barrier from the rest of the world.
    And they truly are a barrier from the life you try to escape every day in the hollowed tree. The peace feels foreign and quiet. It feels... nice. Away from cries of help and shouting and deceptive smiles.
    It's the deceptive smiles that frighten you the most, following after the empty words that sting like millions of tiny paper cuts in your heart. Why does he say such lies to your face? Holding your arm tight in one hand and his belt in another. Why does he say it won't hurt when it does? Every single time, it does.
    The yelling...

If only...

    If only...
    I had said goodbye
    I had been brave enough to try.
    I had held your hand through all that rough day
    I had decided not to leave but stay
    
    And maybe if...
    You had reached out too
    You had not told me what to do
    You had not left me alone
    You had not picked a bone

    Then maybe...
    We would still be friends
    Our life together would have no ends
    We would still talk to each other
    I would still call you my brother

    If only...
    I hadn't stormed out that day
    You had tried to make me stay
    We still knew each other
    You were still my brother
 

The Chaos of the Bus

    Whir. Click. Thump. Beep. Shake. Rattle. Chatter. Bump. Chatter. Click. Chatter. Whir.
    There's no such thing as peace on a school bus. The outbursts of laughter pierce your ears, even through headphones at top volume. The bumps that shake your vision and blur all the lines, giving a headache to anyone who rides. The seats stand so rigid, it's a surprise to find out they're made to cushion you, not destroy the backs of anyone who sits down.
    The people that tap tap tap on your shoulder though, they're the worst. With painted grins of ignorance and conversations with little meaning to talk about the weather, or what did you get for number three or did you see what that girl was wearing she's such a slut or about a hobby that only they seem to care about, but everyone must know all about it.
    And the language they use is just. It's just. It's just there....

Dialogue Dexterity

Vests and Pretzel Stands

    "No."
    My head whipped towards my brother, brows furrowed in annoyance. "Why not?" I pouted my lips at him, jaw jutting out to get his attention. "This is a once in a lifetime experience! There won't be an opportunity like this again for years!"
    The look he gave me could have frozen over the entire ocean and I shivered from the coldness radiating off of him. His eyes glared icicles at me as he replied back, "It's a summer sale. I'm sure they'll have it next year."
    I sighed in annoyance. He just didn't seem to get it. The clearance vests and bow-ties made the mad rush to the mall during the end of summer worth it once I got to show them off.
    "But the khaki's!" I argued back, face slowly crimsoning in frustration. "And the dress shirts! Come on, a man such as yourself should appreciate such high class of clothing!"
 ...

Like I'm Special to You

    Why were you looking at me? With your caramel eyes and pouting lips. Your crinkling nose and piercing gaze. Did I have something in my teeth? Was there something wrong with my hair?
    You always look at me in the mornings, your black hair curled distractedly around your ears. Glasses straightened perfectly and a soft smile lighting up everywhere around me. It's like we're in our own little world and I'm the star attraction for you. And you for me.
    The world feels tinted in swirls of colors that delight and amuse the eye. A fluttering feeling of butterflies tickles my stomach. Is this what love feels like? All mushy and twirling and oh gosh am I ready for something like this? Do you really like me back? I'm not sure...
    You probably don't see me that way, and it's fine. Truly. But the way you look at me. Talk to me. Smile at...

Indigo and Lane

    Indigo and Lane. Lane and Indigo. The terms were synonymous with each other if you asked anyone who lived in the town of Salem. They were the epitome of soul mates and flaunted it everyday, their hands linked together and their steps echoing down the streets in harmony. Even their features complemented each other perfectly; the short Lane with shoulder length golden, curly locks and the tall Indigo with short hair so black it looked to be bluish purple in certain light. You could never find one without the other, and if you did, it was only to see them rushing towards the other into a mushy embrace, then falling to the ground together in laughter.
    Yes, they were the epitome of soul mates, but Lane found something missing from their relationship. All they did was talk and hold hands, with hugs being a rarity between them. They’d never once kissed in the two years they had been dating and...

Mistakenly Dead

    "Sir, I think there's been a mistake." I look around nervously at the walls made of bone and teeth and hair, a shudder runs down my spine. Definitely a mistake.
    The skeleton at the desk in front of me just gives me the look. You know the one I'm talking about; single eyebrow raised and a dead look in the eyes. Or you could just look at a teacher who's clearly been teaching too long. Yeah, that look.
    "You're dead," it responds dryly. "I'm not sure what else you expected out of this." It waves its arms around, gesturing to the blood dried floors, the walls of bones and hair, and the screams of torture in the distance.
    I hold up my hand for the skeleton to stop, and it does, albeit with a begrudging look of annoyance.
    "No, no, no. I can't be dead. I distinctly remember flopping onto...

My Lonely Ruff

    Mommy, I'm scared. Where are you mommy? I've lost Ruff that holds me tight. He's not here mommy. He's not here and I'm so scared.
    The nightlight is on, but it's not working mommy. Please help me mommy. The monsters have come out to play, but I don't want to. The dark crawls across the room, asking me to join it, but I don't want to. Help me mommy, help me.
    Wake up mommy. Please wake up. I need help finding Ruff before it's too late. Before the monsters take me. The darkness turns turns turns around me as I walk to your room and it's scaring me. Mommy please wake up.
    Grubby hands and groans and yawns and mommy please help me find Ruff. Silent feet and bumps in the night, but you say it's only the water going thump thump thump. And there's a moaning coming from the shoe room...

My Lonely Ruff

    Mommy, I'm scared. Where are you mommy? I've lost Ruff that holds me tight. He's not here mommy. He's not here and I'm so scared.
    The nightlight is on, but it's not working mommy. Please help me mommy. The monsters have come out to play, but I don't want to. The shadows crawl across the room, asking me to join them, but I don't want to. Help me mommy, help me.
    Wake up mommy. Please wake up. I need help finding Ruff before it's too late. Before the monsters take me and the shadows sing their song. The night surrounds me like an endless pool of black as I walk to you. Mommy please wake up.
    Grubby hands and groans and yawns and mommy please help me find Ruff. Silent feet and bumps in the night, but you say it's only the water going thump thump thump. And there's a moaning coming...

Freedom in a Sunrise

    She stood there silently, face tilted up towards the sunrise in pure abandon. A soft smile graced her face as she started to walk forward, arms swinging loosely beside her. A breeze caressed and teased her hair, looking like a golden halo in the morning light.
    There was nothing, but bliss running through her mind. Bliss. It was something she hadn't felt in a while with stress wrapped around every corner she turned towards. But today was a special day that only came once a year; the start of summer.
    The sound of night cicadas immediately hushed, as if waiting to see what the girl would do next, now that freedom had arrived like a long awaited party.
    She stopped for a moment at the top of a hill, in awe of the silence, before she launched into a whirl of tumbling and cartwheels, her musical laugh trailing behind her like ribbons as she...

Glitch

There's nothing wrong with m E
m'I fin---e, nothing yuo cant' fix
I've been called a G
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But I'm no-----t
I'm just a bit

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            S---l-----o---------------w
People sea m--e as dIFFERent
But --- 'Im noT
I am jsut tr-r-r-r-r-r-ying to be mE
                                            <Glitch!!!>             <Glitch!!!>             <Glitch!!!>
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<V-v-v-v--viruS SCaN EnaBLeD. Please w-----w-----w-aiiiiiiiiii---t...>
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<Full body scan enabled.> <Please wait while the full body scan is in progress...>
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               <Full body scan complete.> 
...
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        ...
            <No other glitches found.>

A Pig to the Slaughter

    You were just a mere child, destined for a greatness that seemed unreachable in your young mind. The promise of fame and destiny intertwined together into a single stream of commands and praises. Lavish clothes sewed together through obedience and innocence.
    The memory of a church that raised you from birth has faded from you mind, but still held a piece of you. It was a very small church, with broken stained glass windows, jagged on the ends in zig-zagged patterns that mesmerized the eye. The doors were rotted on the edges, its hinges squeaking from the barest of movements.
    The detail you remembered the most though was a kind girl only a few years older than you with the brightest of smiles and hair the prettiest shade of red. But your memory of her felt tainted, warped by last word she screamed at you; the same stream of words she repeated again and again as...

The Slowly Corrupted Day

    It wasn't as if today had been a bad day. It just didn't make my top ten. Or twenty. Or six thousand four hundred and seventy five days. Ok, so maybe it had been a bad day, but it didn't start out bad.
    On the contrary, it began quite well, if you didn't count waking up way too early for school anyways. Yeah, a six o'clock wake up time doesn't seem very logical to me and it was pure torture to leave my comfy, warm bed before the sun even showed up to the party.
    But got up I did, albeit with many grunts and sighs of annoyance and defeat. It probably helps a bit I don't really care what I wear in the mornings anyway, so shoving on a flannel and jeans really helped improve my morning. A quick brush through my already frizzy hair and I was ready to roll.
    A bus...

The Shackles of a Ruler

    I never wanted to be king. The idea scared me more than anything, but it was the order of how things were. Once I turned eighteen years old, I was shackled for life.
    Maybe that's why I ran away, to the fields and meadows, away from oppressive expectations and belittling words. Away from my scheming siblings who wanted it more than me. Wanted the power and deception of the crown for themselves. The pleasure and pain of the throne.
    Nobody wanted me for the heir anyways. The nobles sneered towards me, pointed noses turned even more upward every time I walked past. The servants watched me with apologetic eyes, doing nothing. Saying nothing. Because that was how they had been taught. How I had been taught.
    I locked myself away and melted the key to my heart, a stoic expression parading around my face in an attempt to look strong. To feel...

Chaos

                                                                                                  Soft?
Loud?                                Masses of color?
            The wisps of freedom snaking through
    Air?      Or   maybe it’s the hints….. Cotton Candy?                      No…. Maybe?
    Spine tingling… yes. but freedom? Freeedom….        There it is, but there it isn’t.     Or?
                    Excitement on  thetipofyourtongue…
Echos? But ...  on drums?      Feet?    No… Music that haunts,  Or?        Yes. No? Yes.
Raising of.  Hair?Feeling?Life?help?    Maybe?NO!YES!  No?    ...   Yes?
                    F
                  A
                        LL
                                           I
                   ...

The Hollowed Tree

    There's a tree in the woods of your backyard that feels more like home than your own sometimes. It's quite a large tree, it's inside hollowed out from years of decay and insects of the invasive, endangering sort and pine needles surround the outside like a barrier from the rest of the world.
    And it truly is a barrier from the life you try to escape every day in the hollowed tree. The peace feels foreign and too quiet. Away from cries of help and shouting and deceptive smiles.
    It's the deceptive smiles that frighten you the most, following after the empty words that sting like millions of tiny paper cuts in your heart. Why does he say such lies to your face? Holding your arm tight in one hand and his belt in another. Why does he say it won't hurt when it does? Every single time, it does.
    The yelling between father...

The Lonely Woods

    Why are you waiting at the edge of the woods?
    Others might think you're suspicious if you stay there, quietly and without a word. But entering the dark, now seemingly gloomy woods seems like a forfeit of life. If you just crept in the opening, a mere few brambles in, you'd blend in all the more and nobody would see you to call you suspicious.
    But what of the dangers? There's a river in the distance, unless the fizzing rush filling the still air is the wolves or the bears, growling at you from inside the darkness. And what of the thorns that tear and scar those who come too close? They're nothing like the roses you grow at home with their bright ruby petals and velvety leaves clashing against the pointed thorns that dazzle with deception.
    You are waiting for a friend, you finally realize. Someone to show you the way to the other side...

The Lonely Woods

    Why are you waiting at the edge of the woods? Others might think you're suspicious if you stay there, quietly and without a word. But entering the dark, now seemingly gloomy woods seems like a forfeit of life. If you just crept in the opening, just a few brambles in, you'd blend in all the more and nobody would see you to call you suspicious.
    But what of the dangers? There's a river in the distance, unless the rumble filling the still air is the wolves or the bears, growling at you from inside the darkness. And what of the thorns that tear and scar those who come to close? They're nothing like the roses you grow at home with their bright ruby petals and velvety leaves.
    You are waiting for a friend, you finally realize. Someone to show you the way to the other side of the woods. But your friend hasn't shown up for...

Talking to “You”

The Small Black Building

    You were told not to look that way. No, not the way where the screams were coming from inside the forest, but the way where the small black building stood innocently on the small knoll of the hill to the east. It seemed to be a silent building that was abandoned long ago, but something in your stomach squeezed tight and shouted how that was wrong. How it looked too pristine and perfect to be abandoned. If only you had listened to your stomach.
    Creeping closer, you noticed a ring of ashes laid around the building in a perfect circle, undisturbed by the wind that suddenly started howling in your ears. Your legs locked up for an instant as if to warn you once again about going even closer. With stomach clenched and legs stiff, you crept forward. If only you had listened to your legs.
    As you reached the door, you ran your hand along...

Talking to “You”

The Small Black Building

    You were told not to look that way. No, not the way where the screams were coming from inside the forest, but the way where the small black building stood innocently on the small knoll of the hill to the east. It seemed to be a silent building that was abandoned long ago, but something in your stomach squeezed tight and shouted how that was wrong. How it looked too pristine and perfect to be abandoned. If only you had listened to your stomach.
    Creeping closer, you noticed a ring of ashes laid around the building in a perfect circle, undisturbed by the wind that suddenly started howling in your ears. Your legs locked up for an instant as if to warn you once again about going even closer. With stomach clenched and legs stiff, you crept forward. If only you had listened to your legs.
    As you reached the door, you ran your hand along...

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16 Likes from Others

Faded Yellow Desk

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