Lopiekins

United States of America

Singer
Dancer
Reader
Writer
Pianist
Horseback rider
(among other things)

Message from Writer

"You don't get to choose if you get hurt in this world, but you do get some say in who hurts you."
-Augustus Waters, The Fault In Our Stars

"If my life is going to mean anything, I have to live it myself."
- Percy Jackson

"You must know... Surely, you must know it was all for you."
-Mr. Darcy, Pride and Prejudice

"Because then maybe she'd realize, if only for a split second, that even though the world doesn't matter to her, she matters to the world."
-Every Day

"Maybe there's something you're afraid to say, or someone you're afraid to love, or somewhere you're afraid to go. It's gonna hurt.
It's gonna hurt because it matters."
- Will Grayson, Will Grayson

"I love you and I can't imagine stopping."
-Eleanor and Park

Published Work

Falling

    "Mom!" I shout from the bathroom. 
My voice sounds weak and shaky. I sit on the floor of the shower, covered in goosebumps despite the thick, fluffy towel I have wrapped around myself. I look down again at the dark bruises covering my body and wince. There's a knock on the bathroom door before my mother walks in, her face a mask of concern. 
    "Hon? Where are you?" She asks. 
  I open my mouth and try to answer her, but my voice catches in my throat. I can do nothing but wait behind the frosted glass of the shower door, hoping she will find me. Her footsteps continue to grow nearer until suddenly the shower door swings open. My mother stands frozen in front of me, her mouth open as if she was about to say something. Her face contorts as she takes in the shades of purple, blue, black, and red covering my skin....

Tiny Love Story

Goodbye

I look over the edge of the coffin, my hands trembling violently at my side. He is in his best suit, his gorgeous brown eyes closed forever. Someone has slipped his senior ring onto his finger. Tears come to my eyes; I was supposed to be the one to do that. He promised. His corkscrew curls are falling into his face. I press a hand to my mouth, trying to contain my violent sobs. I trace my fingers along his jawline and run them through his hair for the last time. Then I whisper, "I will always love you. Goodbye."

My favorite LOL book quotes

"Push that button before I climb that tower and push it with your face!"
"With all due respect to the doctor, I highly suspect he's a moron."
"You're too stupid to remember anybody, much less nobody."
"Are you suggesting I occasionally stray from the rule book?"
"I don't suppose you'd consider peaceful surrender?"
"Let us find the dam restroom."
"We are being led by an idiot with a crayon."
"Apollo is hot
    He's the sun god.
That's not what I meant."
"Right. And Set will just stand there calmly while I read him to death."
"If you will forgive me for being personal, I do not like your face."
"Why are you smiling? I worry when you smile."
"Great. We're all bloody inspired."
"You missed a pedestrian. Wanna go back and hit her?"
"Survive first. Figure out crayons drawing of destiny later."
"Did you think we'd be staying in a five star hotel, finding a Horcrux every other...

HELP!!

Y'all, there has got to be a way to republish without un-publishing and starting all over again! Somebody help me!

SHOUTOUT!!!!!

Hey guys, I just want to give a quick shoutout to an absolutely AMAZING writer here. Only two pieces written, and I am shell shocked. They are incredibly well written and moving, and you would do very well to GO CHECK THEM OUT RIGHT NOW!!!!!!!

someoneyetnooneatall:
Death Tale
Trapped

SHOUTOUT!!!!!

Hey guys, I just want to give a quick shoutout to an absolutely AMAZING writer here. Only two pieces written, and I am shell shocked. They are incredibly well written and moving, and you would do very well to GO CHECK THEM OUT RIGHT NOW!!!!!!!

someoneyetnooneatall:
Death Tale
Trapped

Open Prompt

Finding Hope

     He approaches her slowly, as a hunter would a scared, wounded animal. She raises her head and looks up at him through thick tears. When she speaks it is in a low, strained voice that cracks at random intervals.
    "Why me?" she asks him.
She sees pure pain flit through his eyes as he crouches down to her level.
    "I don't know," he tells her softly, looking down at the floor.
A tear runs down her cheek, and without thinking, he reaches out and brushes it away. The corners of her mouth turn up the slightest bit, barely forming a smile. He waits a long time before speaking again. Finally he lets out a deep breath and looks her in the eye.
    "I'm taking you home," he tells her.
Her confusion is written plainly on her face, and quick on its heels is shame.
    "I haven't got one," she whispers, looking at the floor.
It takes him but a second...

Sixteen

    "MOMMY!" Kat yells.
I clamp my pillow over my ears, groaning.
    "Sweetie, I can't come up there right now," Mom shouts back.
 I roll over and look at my alarm clock. Six thirty in the morning. I'd scream, but I really don't have any energy to spare. Instead I reach for my fluffy slippers and promptly fall out of the bed and onto the cold hardwood floor. Ouch.
    "MOMMY I NEED YOU!!" Kat hollers again. I hear Mom sigh as she climbs the stairs.
    "I'm coming, Kat," she says.
I pick myself up off of the floor and run through a quick mental checklist; arms: okay, legs: okay, butt: bruised but not broken. I pluck my slippers up off the floor from where they sit, inches away from my feet. With a sigh I pull them on and grab my phone off of my nightstand.
    "Kat?" Mom says, wandering through the hallway. "Where are you, honey?"
Kat's voice is...

Falling

    "Mom!" I shout from the bathroom. 
My voice sounds weak and shaky. I sit on the floor of the shower, covered in goosebumps despite the thick, fluffy towel I have wrapped around myself. I look down again at the dark bruises covering my body and wince. There's a knock on the bathroom door before my mother walks in, her face a mask of concern. 
    "Hon? Where are you?" She asks. 
  I open my mouth and try to answer her, but my voice catches in my throat. I can do nothing but wait behind the frosted glass of the shower door, hoping she will find me. Her footsteps continue to grow nearer until suddenly the shower door swings open. My mother stands frozen in front of me, her mouth open as if she was about to say something. Her face contorts as she takes in the shades of purple, blue, black, and red covering my skin....

Lady

 I am standing at the barn door, tears streaming down my face. The warmth of them running over my cheeks feels good. Dad shakes his head and I know she's gone. I begin to run blindly. I have to go somewhere - anywhere but here. Dad calls after me as I tear across the fields, but the only thing I hear is the wind howling as it whips around my head. I stumble and fall into the wet grass. I lay there sobbing as the raindrops begin to wash away my tears. My mind flashes back to the day I got Lady. 

    "All right now," said the man. "Which one?" 
My eyes strayed to the far corner of the meadow, falling upon a young horse struggling to stand.
    "That one," I pointed.
My mother shook her head, her eyes misty. The man sighed, his grumpy expression softening.
    "Poor gal," he said, shaking his head. "Her legs just aren't quite...

Part 1

Hey guys!! So over the next two weeks I am holding a writing contest that is specifically Christmas themedYour story needs to center around a Christmas miracle. Minimum of 250 words, maximum of 650 words. Due by Christmas Eve. Winners will be announced by January 3rd. Genre of your choice. Post the link to your piece in the comments below. One winner gets five reviews, likes, and comments on writings of their choice. Good luck to all of you! I can't wait to start reading!! ( If you have any questions please leave them in the comments below. )

Lady

 I am standing at the barn door, tears streaming down my face. The warmth of them running over my cheeks feels good. Dad shakes his head and I know she's gone. I begin to run blindly. I have to go somewhere - anywhere but here. Dad calls after me as I tear across the fields, but the only thing I hear is the wind howling as it whips around my head. I stumble and fall into the wet grass. I lay there sobbing as the raindrops begin to wash away my tears. My mind flashes back to when I got Lady. 

"All right now," said the man. "Which one?"  My eyes strayed to the far corner of the meadow, falling upon a young horse struggling to stand. "That one," I pointed. My mother shook her head, her eyes misty. The man sighed, his grumpy expression softening. "Poor gal," he said, shaking his head. "Her legs just aren't quite right....

*Gone*#ICBYShortStory

    She stares at him as he gathers his things. "Where are you going?' she asks, her voice breaking. "I'm leaving," he growls. "You.... what?" she whispers. "I'm leaving," he says shortly, "and you can't stop me." "Are you kidding me?" she asks incredulously. "The baby is due any day now!" "Well, send me an announcement. I'm out," he tells her, smirking. Before she can say another word, he picks up his suitcase, walks out of the house, and slams the door behind him. She watches him start up his car and drive away. She sinks to the floor, trying to believe that, just like the last time, he will be back in the morning, but it isn't the same. Deep down she knows that she will never see her husband again. 

Eyes

    They say that the eyes are the window to the soul.They connect two people to one another. His eyes are warm, the color of melted chocolate. Each time they find mine, my heart skips and I forget how to breathe. I see love, pain, and kindness fighting a desperate battle. As they wage war his eyes sparkle, as if dancing in the light. I can see nothing but the emotions playing across his face. They draw me in, and in turn I feel as if he can see straight into my soul. Every thought and feeling I have seems to be plainly written in my eyes. So there in the sunshine we sit, gazing into each other's eyes, reading the pages of our stories. 

Turned to Stone

NICOLE

                Walking through this house is torture. The social worker is waiting outside, talking with the police; even she didn't want to come into this nightmare. Nothing has been cleaned since that night. They've moved the bodies, but that offers little comfort. I will still have to identify them later this week. I finger the lace curtains my mother sewed to cover the windows, trying to avoid looking at the rest of the room. The curtains are free from bloody stains and gunpowder. I've been told not to touch or move anything, but the stench is threatening to make me sick. I pull back the beautiful curtains and crack open the window, breathing in the fresh air. I catch my breath then walk across the living room carefully, not wanting to step in the sticky patches of blood that haven't quite dried yet. The sight of Mother's creamy white carpet, marred by bloody streaks is making the nausea worse....

They'll Never See

    She sits on a park bench in the snow. No one sees her; they see what they want to see and she doesn't fit into their world. For years she watches as their children grow up, get married, bring their kids to the park they used to love. She sits and she watches, day after day, season after season, year after year. She touches each person as they pass her small wooden bench. The boy with the sandy hair has just lost his puppy. The girl with the purple parka has a best friend with brain cancer. But the couple playing frisbee with their son is going to find the missing album of wedding photos from years earlier. She knows their stories, she knows their futures. The girl in the purple parka is going to marry the boy with the sandy hair. But the girl won't know that for another two decades. She knows. She watches and she...

Novel Writing Competition 2018

?

                "What is the scientific name of the rhinoceros?" Mr. Taylor asks, his back to the class. Sofia rolls her eyes and deftly slides a note across the aisle to Caleb. He retrieves it, and glances up at the board before gingerly unfolding it. His face lights up in a smile as he reads whatever Sofia has written in her beautiful, loopy cursive. He pulls out a cheap black pen and writes what I would guess is a one word response, then refolds it and slides it back to her. She has barely retrieved the note when Mr. Taylor turns around. "Anyone?" he asks pleasantly, completely oblivious to the drama unfolding around him. I groan inwardly and raise my hand. "Yes, Dylan? What is the scientific name for the rhinoceros?" He says eagerly. "Um, I was just gonna ask if I could go see the nurse; I don't feel too good," I tell him, desperately trying to...

Numerous Narrators

Why?

 Alana
The house shakes for what must be the hundredth time today. My mother is huddled in the corner, grasping a radio with white knuckles. My entire family has crowded into one room. My parents still cry out our names with every explosion. We console them with pale faces, wondering who went down with the last raid. My sister is reading to the baby. Her hands shake as she turns the pages of the book. Behind her eyes is a dark pool of sadness, for she knew so many victims so intimately. The radio comes to life, startling us all. "The temple has been bombed." My mother's face turns with grief. I am silent. So many places are in ruins I have stopped crying with every broadcast. My sister listens intently to the crackling radio. "The town of Bal Shabar has been leveled. There will be no survivors." I crumple into a ball on the floor. My body is racked...

Monster Flash Fiction Competition 2018

Under the Bed

For what must be the hundredth time tonight, I lift the bottom of the comforter and peer into the darkness under the bed. I know it's foolish to be scared of a monster under the bed, but no way is that the air conditioner, sorry Mom. All I see are dark lumps, clothes and toys hastily shoved beneath the bed on a busy day. I turn the light back out and snuggle up against my pillow. Rrrrrrrip. I sit bolt upright, sheets falling to the floor. Something is scratching at the bottom of the bed. Again. I don't want to call Mom. The last thing I need is for her to walk in here all in a huff and tell me it's just the air conditioner. I shiver. Getting out of bed again, I tiptoe across the hardwood, being careful to avoid the spots that creak. Standing by the closet, I observe the situation. I finally decide on a plan...

Numerous Narrators

Why?

Alana
The house shakes for what must be the hundredth time today. My mother is huddled in the corner, grasping a radio with white knuckles. My entire family has crowded into one room. My parents still cry out our names with every explosion. We console them with pale faces, wondering who went down with the last raid. My sister is reading to the baby. Her hands shake as she turns the pages of the book. Behind her eyes is a dark pool of sadness, for she knew so many victims so intimately. The radio comes to life, startling us all. "The temple has been bombed." My mother's face turns with grief. I am silent. So many places are in ruins I have stopped crying with every broadcast. My sister listens intently to the crackling radio. "The town of Bal Shabar has been leveled. There will be no survivors." I crumple into a ball on the floor. My body is racked...