Mary Wall

United States of America

Aspiring Author
Dancer
Bookdragon
Icecream Consumer
Daughter of the King
Dessert Craver
Homeschooler
Adventurer
Dreamer
Coffee Drinker
Fangirling over the Ranger Apprentice Series
ISFJ

Message from Writer

'Writing a book is not an easy process nor is it always enjoyable, but it is one of life's most satisfying achievements.' ~Guy Kawasaki

I would love to read and review your pieces if you leave me a link! And any advice and suggestions you have for me are greatly appreciated.

I'm a highschooler with lots of siblings and way many ideas. It would take all of the empty notebooks that are laying around my room to hold all of my random ideas.

I'm pro-life and pro-sugar. No, seriously. Do not let me get near sugar. You will regret it for the rest of your life. I'm might too.

I wish I could say I am an athlete, but it would be a lie. I can't run to save my life, although I do enjoy sports.:)

Published Work

irusu

I tossed another cheeto in a high arch and it landed smartly in Kate's open mouth. Laughing, she took the best bow she could while kneeling as I clapped from my spot on the couch. 
    "That's twenty-eight in a row, Ruth! I beat you so hard!" Kate celebrated, flopping back onto the pile of pillows that were the result of our earlier pillow fight. 
    I rolled my eyes and popped a cheeto into my mouth, normal-style, and then licked off the orange film that clung to my fingers.
    "My record's with fritos actually. It's Devon who's the genius with cheetos," I said. Kate humphed, grabbed the remote that had been accidentally dropped on the floor and played the sappy chick flick we were watching. We quieted for a minute, but neither of us were very interested in it anymore. It was our third chick flick marathon that month. 
    "Did you ever wonder...

Now to Then

Lasagna and Strawberry Pie

The heavenly smell of my grandmother's strawberry pies wafted out the kitchen window to me as I traced the veins of her prized white tiger lily and waited for inspiration to hit, my charcoal pencil poised and ready above my sketchpad. Instead, my thoughts wandered back to a similar warm spring day, two years ago.

"Sophie, your mom would be furious, and your dad would never let me into his house again!" Ben gripped my ankles tighter, his face nearly touching the rough wood of the tall fence. I laughed quietly, and changed the ISO on my iphone's camera. 
    "Quit whining and hold still. I just need a few more shots..." my voice trailed off and I bit my lower lip in concentration. 
    "Are you saying that taking pictures of an abandoned house is more important to you than I am?" 
    I sighed. 
    "You're such a wimp. Lower me down."
   ...

Lost Wind

The wind howled outside Joanna's bedroom window, sending scarlet leaves skittering across the glass pane. The moonlight shining into her room cast eerie shadows of the dancing leaves on her grey shag carpet. With a leather bound copy of "Pride and Prejudice in her hands, a mug of coffee steaming on her nightstand, and a flashlight illuminating the lines and curves of ink that made images and worlds in her head, she smiled contentedly. A tap at her window tore her from the pages. She shivered nervously, but seeing nothing, she pulled a fuzzy blanket around her shoulders and snuggled deeper into her comforter. 

"Indeed, Jane, you ought to believe me. No one who has ever seen you together can doubt his affection. Miss Bingley, I am sure, cannot. She is not such a simpleton. Could she have seen half as much love in Mr. Darcy for herself, she would have ordered her wedding clothes. But the case is this:...

It Was Time...

Lightning streaked across the sky, illuminating the gnarled limbs of the old oak tree. Thunder rumbled in reply. I shivered.
The oak tree looked much more inviting in daylight, when the swing was gently pushed by a warm breeze. 
    My bare feet were numb, and I was struggling to keep my teeth from chattering. 
    How long was this going to take?
    The moon broke out from between the clouds and I squirmed nervously as the rose-colored scar on my forearm began to tingle and glow, silver and piercing. 
    I sucked in a deep breath and squared my shoulders, lifting my chin in defiance. 
    It was time.

Open Prompt

hireath

Home was something that people spoke of with a content note in their voice. It held wisps of memories that were shared for generations, turning into stories that were passed from parent to child at bedtime. It was the place where life began, and where life ended. It was a place of love and quiet, peace and contentment.
    It was.
    I was the first to challenge the traditions. I wanted to make the world different, better. 
    My dreams would take me to the moon and back---if I could get off the ground. I would be a black sheep in a flock of white. I would be a drop of uniqueness in a sea of drab. I would stretch my wings and fly to the limits of my imagination, for that is the limit of my possibilities. 
    What would I do if I had to trade my home for my dreams? Is...

Sijo

nefelibata

(a) One who lives in the clouds of their own imagination; An unconventional person.


Pain brings many to their knees in confusion and hopelessness.
Others cling to a silver lining and write their own stories.
Suffering brings connection that makes us beautifully broken.

What is a writer and how do you put the whole of their thoughts into mere words?

What is a writer? Ink stains on a sensitive heart? Maybe. The endless stories that plead to be told? Possibly. The ideas that appear and evaporate within the same breath, and if you don't write them out in the space of two seconds, it will be gone forever? The exhausting hours bent over a keyboard, building a world out of words? The declined invitations to social gatherings just to spend extra time molding your characters?
    Can I ever measure up?

Rain - Chapter 1

Rain pounded the worn sidewalk outside the little cafe. Cassie punched in another coffee snob's recipe for caffinated perfection and took the payment, watching the rain run-off flowing parallel to the street out of the corner of her eye, sweeping garbage and half-rotted leaves along with it, pulled by the tiny current. 
    The customer, a slender girl with ash grey eyes, fiery red french braids, and a mustard sweater, stepped off to the side of the counter to wait for her medium toffee vanilla latte. Cassie tried not to be jealous of the girl's luxurious brick-red hair. Blonde hair was pretty, right? At least that's what Dad told her. 
    She subconsciously tucked a tress of her curly blonde hair behind her ear and a friendly smile spread across her face as the next customer stepped up.
    "How're you, Chloe?" Cassie asked the motherly figure who frequented the shop nearly every day. Chloe's rosy cheeks...

One-Liner

Wounds

A visible wound heals; an invisible wound sinks deep into the soul.

#sixlittlestories

Forever isn't long enough for me.

When did I forget to live?

I was wrong: growing up hurts.

I learned to pray, miracles happened.

The door slammed, leaving me heartbroken.

Rain drenched us; we didn't care.

Lives were broken, shattered by greed.

Flash Fiction Competition 2019

Haunted

Rain pattered softly on the leaky roof of the old mansion like the delicate feet of a fairy, dancing across the shingles. Brielle clenched her fists, heart aching. She hated being alone in this drafty house---remembering the days when it was filled with laughter and the voices of her family. Where had the time gone?
    Her eyes ached from unshed tears and she begged her body for the relief of unconsciousness. She hovered just out of reach of sleep, letting the soft, haunting notes of the piano upstairs perpetrate her numbed mind. Suddenly, she sat up. 
    Wasn't she alone?

Flash Fiction Competition 2019

Haunted

Rain pattered softly on the leaky roof of the old mansion. Brielle clasped her hands behind her head, exhausted. She hated being alone in this drafty house, filled with strange odds and ends. She determined never to house sit alone again.
    Her eyes ached and she begged her body for the sleep she so desperately needed. The soft, haunting notes of the grand piano upstairs confused her. She couldn't think of what was wrong until, frustrated, she threw her covers back and sat up. She shivered; chills crawled over her arms and legs. Then she knew.
    Wasn't she alone?
    

Dear L___

You know that feeling, that you missed an opportunity for something really huge?
That's where I am.
I must have been deaf and blind not to realize the gift staring me in the face.
I'll probably never see you again. 
I imagined that last moment that I would see you.
Maybe you'd be looking after me. 
Maybe you'd be wondering if you'd see me again.
But, no.
You were busy.
You didn't even notice I left. 
Maybe that is best.
It still hurt.
I'm not sure exactly what I want to say here. 
You'll never see this and I don't know why I even wrote it. 
I suppose I just wanted a way to let you go without having to say it out loud.
Remember me as the girl who brought coffee in a mug to work every morning.
Remember me as the girl who had no idea what was going on, but had blast anyway.
Thanks for the good...

prompt #6

How's this for one of the cutest prompts you've ever read (I didn't write it; found it on Pinterest): 

Nobody dared go near the tower. A fearsome dragon sat on its top. Until one day, a knight rode up.
"Do you need help to get down?"
"Please."


Shoot me a link if you do anything with this! I'd love to read it!

xx

My Prompt #5

I decided to look up what holidays there were on June 20th, and then, because I really like unique prompts, I thought you might enjoy coming up with a story to match them. 

  • Ugliest Dog Day (I'm really interested in any thing you all come up with for this one.:)
  • National American Eagle Day
  • World Refugee Day
Have fun and leave me a link if you do it! I'd love to read what you come up with!

Forgotten

The rope swing dangles from a tree branch, swinging out over a crystal clear lake. It looks forlorn, like its missing the weight of a child on its weather-beaten pine seat. The restless wind bats playfully at it, causing its brittle ropes to groan. A vision of all the innocent childhoods spent there haunts the air. The careless laughter of a lifetime ago flows on the breeze. For a moment, it crowned a perfect life; not now. But yet, it still waits, still watches, still hopes. Hopes to again be a child's favorite pastime. To swing out over space dangerously, carelessly. But it falls; its ropes break. No more dreams of flying. No more happy hearts. No one cares. Its gone. Forgotten. 

My Prompt #3

    What is happening in your life today? Good or bad, turn it into a story.

my brain doesn't have enough creative juices to create a title

    "Danny!" Sienna's shocked expression rivals my discomfort. For someone so little, she has particularly large lungs. I'm still flexing my jaw and rubbing the abused ear as I stumble after her. She hops up from the table, where I thought we were finally going to have a minute to talk about Dad's birthday party, and makes a beeline for Danny, who is walking the balcony rail like it's a tight-rope. 
    "Get down or I'll push you!" she crosses her arms and taps her foot, glaring at the lanky teenager.
    "How is that any better than falling?" he asks with a grin, imitating her stance, turning to face her even though it puts the cracked pavement of the street to his back. The fury is visibly accumulating on Sienna's face, so I decide to make a gentle interference. 
    "Are you trying to get yourself killed, Danny?" I explode, stepping in front of Sienna, pulling...

take me back

i tried to make it by myself.
i pushed You away for things that seemed better
but they were drains on the joy that You gave me.
all it did was make me sick of living.
i want to go back to the simple prayers of my childhood.
i want to learn about the little things in life.
i want to know how to love others like You love me.
even when i messed up,
even when i tried to make it on my own,
even when what You offered didn't seem good enough,
even when You weren't the love of my life,
You loved me.
 

an unintentional break that may or may not be broken even while it exists

    Hey guys! I'll be in California for the next few weeks, so I'm not sure how much time I'll be able to spend on here, if any. I'm flying by myself for the first time (*high-pitched shriek that usually comes when girls are exhausted and reading memes to each other*) to help my aunt take care of her four kids and new baby. Anywho! @Juliana, I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to postpone those reviews until I get back, unless I have more time on my hands than I think I will.
    And for any interested, thisawesome site is hosting a contest called "100-for-100". ( I can't find the post, but as we get closer to the starting date [ May 6th], they will probably post something. ) There are no prizes except the knowledge that you did something absolutely amazing, but it's still worth consideration. Basically, you write 100 words a day from...

Unbreathable

Forever a secret,
Tonight a tradegy.

Bravest of the Brave

    "You're taking too long!" Mari Simpson, my niece, a chubby little brunette with hexagon framed glasses, stood behind me like the lions you always see at the entrances of mansions and palaces. I imagined her nostrils flaring, smoke pouring from them. Her eyes would be red and blood-shot, and she'd be ten feet tall with fangs. 
    "Jen! I'm talking to you!" 
    My image of a horrendous creature evaporated like a drop of water on a griddle. I sighed for the fortieth time in the last hour. 
    "I can't get it here any faster with all your whining, Mari," I said patiently. I didn't bother looking up from my laptop. I knew by heart the expression on her face: a pinched scowl with a dab of disbelief. It was exhausting to be viewed as a superhero. I can't fix her lunch with a snap of my fingers. I can't heal her skinned knee...

Hold My Hand

    Hold my hand when the night grows the dark, stretching out over me like a musty blanket. Keep holding on a the fire dies down and the logs are reduced to glittering gems, blinking in the starlight. Don't let go as we sit quietly, listening to the sounds of the night growing around, coming closer until it nearly reaches us. Laugh with me while we point to the stars and name them. Hold me close as we fall asleep, watching the dying flames.

young love

not another word.
not another glance.
it's like i'm forgotten,
wiped from your memory.
we were
just friends,
but i thought that
someday...
we were
younger,
full of fire and spirit...
but no
you've grown up,
moved on,
and i'm left her,
standing in the cloud
of dust 
that you stirred up in my heart.
there's a part,
a tiny one,
that will never be the 
same.
i'm broken,
forgotten,
left in a ditch,
and i'll wait,
for the time,
when my heart finally heals
and i'm left with a scar,
to remind me,
as if i need it,
of you.

The Mystical World of a Dream

    The waterfall cascaded onto the rocks below with a quiet, soothing roar. The sun danced through the needles of the ancient cedar trees. If you listened hard enough, you could almost hear the forest growing around you. 
    And then you wake up and reality is staring you in the face.

The Journey

Run away. 
Hide away.
Fly away.

Don't move.
Don't squirm.
Don't cry.

Try to heal.
You can't.
You're alone.

Look above.
Believe in your heart.
Accept redemption.

Dreams Collide

when what's best 
becomes what's easiest, 
reality really isn't worth living anymore.

when all people think about 
is how to make the biggest buck,
the little things don't matter anymore.

when you plans crumble 
under peer pressure and stress,
nothing seems even measurable to your confusion.

when you are left
eating icream out of the carton because life punched you in the nose,
rremember that Someone

watches,
and waits,
until you are tired of fighting your own battles
and crawl into His warm hug
while He takes the steering wheel and flips it around,
taking you in the opposite direction.

 

A Mother's Intuition

"Mom?" I asked, collapsing into a chair at the kitchen bar. She sighed to acknowledge my question, and then continued to swirl the golden pancake around in the pan she held on the glass stove top. I dropped my backpack by my feet and leaned my chin of my palm. "When did you know that you'd met the right guy?" 
    The scraping sound of the pan stopped. Mom slowly turned around, a silly grin on her face. 
    "When?" she said."When I was old enough to get into a serious relationship." 
    I huffed. "You did not. You were sixteen when you got together." 
    "If you knew already, why did you ask?" she leaned against the metal, her green eyes, which I inherited, bored into me. I shrugged. She came to sit next to me, giving me a knowing look. I just smiled and traced the marble pattern of the counter. "Did you meet someone extraordinaire?" she asked. I gave a nervous...

Manipulation #standalonedialogue

"What did you just say?"
"Why would I repeat myself to you?"
"Whatever. I didn't want to hear it anyway."
" You're scared."
"Scared? Of you? I don't think so. You just... aren't worth the energy it takes to listen."
"You definitely scared."
"I am not! Don't put words in my mouth!" 
"Then why're you so nervous? You think I'm going to fight you? You aren't worth the knuckle bruises."

For Keeps pt. one

   "Snowball fight!" shouted James, a chunky boy about my age. I sat in my little corner, watching my whole class rush outside, oblivious of me. My corner was shadowed by a huge shelf full of books that my teacher, Mrs. Nymone called her "little pet library", so I didn't blame them for not seeing me.
    It would have been nice to have someone to talk to during recess, but the snow was much more of an attraction than little me. It was actually okay, because I had a little window I could look out to watch the kids shoving snow into each others face. If I had to be honest, I would admit that the window held more fascination for me than the scene outside. The glass pane was webbed by lacy frost that distorted the snows-cape view. I traced the crystal patterns, melting them in places with the warmth of my finger. My breath fogged the glass from...

something my brother told me recently that i found humorous

Life is short; tell someone that they're loved. But yell it at them in German, because life is also terrifying and confusing.

look for the sparkle in the ash

Not every day is good. 

But every day has something good in it.

Contentment

My To-Do list is somewhat dangerously long,
My room is a mess, my schedule all wrong.
With my nose in a book and a snack in my hand,
I'm tired and happy, emerged in magical lands.

My Prompt #4

Combine three of the six nouns below into a one scene piece:

-A flame
-A memory
-A scent (pleasant or otherwise)
-A dream
-A color
-A weapon

Have a wonderful day!

Morning Glory Cemetary

I place my little bunch of white carnations on the freshly turned soil. I'd taken special care with it, tying the stems together with a lacy, cream colored ribbon. Lacy as a remembrance of the hundreds of intricate doilies spread around her home, and cream for her favorite color, and my interpretation of her personality. Calm, honest and always ready to be paired with a brighter, bolder person. Hence the white carnations as well. 
    " I'm eighteen today, Nana," I swallow past the ache in my throat and go on. " I leave for collage next week," tears spring to my eyes and I swipe them away with the back of my hand. Mom told me this morning that it was too soon, but I needed to come on my birthday. It was the day we'd always spent together. " I'll never forget the daisy crowns, or the vanilla ice cream on National Chocolate Day. I promise I'll do...

In the End

To a place where my wandering hopes come to rest, 
On a warm, gentle breeze, I can taste my success,
I've tried and I've failed, I've won and I've lost,
But in the end all I count is the fruit and the cost.

Even in Death @WOTW#4

    I'm not old enough for this.
    Every footfall from behind me is accompanied with this thought. I'm only ten. I'm not supposed to be mixed up with agents and important people who want to rule the world.
    But I am.
    And this dude behind me has been trying to kill me for days. I twist around a tree and tear into the darkness beyond. I glance behind me to see if he is still following me. He is. I crash through the underbrush, wishing that I'd paid attention to my scout class last year. Maybe I could figure out where on earth I am going. But like the distracted artist I am, I had filled my notebook with drawings and sketches instead of listening. 
    I take another twist and keep on, pushing through the pain of the stitch in my left side. My breathing is heavier now and my legs are on...

River on Fire ~ pt. one

    She stood on the cobblestone dock, curling and uncurling her fist, watching the river catch fire. Ashes floated to the earth around her, dotting her short dark hair. Where the ashes came from was anyone's guess. It was the river on fire after all. Not only are rivers nonburnable, but they make no ashes when they do burn.
    A shriek brought her back to reality and she searched the surrounding streets. Darkness hid everything from her sight, except a crate, laying on its side against a wall. She took a few steps farther into the dark alley when she realized that the sound hadn't come from the empty streets. It hadn't come from anywhere near. She gazed across the river, through the writhing mass of flames. The heat made her eyes smart and blew her hair around her face, but she knew there was something there. Finally she caught a movement. Following it, she saw her enemy,...

IT'S 2019, GUYS!!!!

Happy New Year, all! God bless! 

Do not fail #myfirstcontest

" They've taken another one."
" Don't they have enough? They've broken too many rules already. It's got to stop."
" They still haven't found the right one. They've searched the whole place."
" It's getting too dangerous. Get them out of there."
" We've lost connection. The last time we spoke, they were moving into the last section. They should be done within seconds."
" Find the connection again and get them out of there. I've lost too many agents over the last mission. I won't lose them too."
" The security wall will pick up and signal we can send to find them. If we lose them, we lose them. There are others to fill their positions."
" But none that are as valuable. You will lose your position if you fail me."
" I'll find them."
" Good. And see if you can hustle up a sandwich somewhere so your stomach will shut up."

My Prompt #3

You answer the phone and you hear your voice. It's a recorded message dated 10 years into the future. Instead of a warning or something, it's a explanation of what happens in the next 10 years of your life. What is the message you give yourself?

Memoir to 2018

    It was a good year. There were the usual ups and down, humps and bumps, valleys and cliffs with no bottom. But all in all, there was learning and growing, rising and falling. I am not the same as I was last January. A year older, yes, but hopefully more mature. My family went through some hard stuff during the fall and winter, but there were some exciting things as well. I became an aunt on December 24th! My first nephew was born healthy and happy! Besides that, I've began the huge ordeal of doing two grades in a year and trying to write in the extra time. Well, I'm home schooled, so it sounds a lot worse than it is. I have a lot of extra time, but for the life of me, I can't tell you how I spend it. 
    For next year, my hopes are running high. Goals and "resolutions" (which no one...

River on Fire ~ pt. one

    She stood on the cobblestone dock, curling and uncurling her fist, watching the river catch fire. Ashes floated to the earth around her, dotting her short dark hair. Where the ashes came from was anyone's guess. It was the river on fire after all. Not only do rivers not burn, but they make no ashes when they do.
    A shriek brought her back to reality and she searched the surrounding streets. Darkness hid everything from her sight, except a crate, laying on it's side against a wall. She took a few steps closer when she realized that the sound hadn't come from the empty streets. It hadn't come from anywhere near. She gazed across the river, through the writhing mass of flames. The heat hurt her eyes and blew her hair around her face, but she knew there was something there. Finally she caught a movement. Following it, she saw her enemy, a man in black. With...

River on Fire #fire

    She stood on the cobblestone dock, curling and uncurling her fist, watching the river catch fire. Ashes floated to the earth around her, dotting her short dark hair. Where the ashes came from was anyone's guess. It was the river on fire after all. Not only do rivers not burn, but they make no ashes when they do.
    A shriek brought her back to reality and she searched the surrounding streets. Darkness hid everything from her sight, except a crate, laying on it's side against a wall. She took a few steps closer when she realized that the sound hadn't come from the empty streets. It hadn't come from anywhere near. She gazed across the river, through the writhing mass of flames. The heat hurt her eyes and blew her hair around her face, but she knew there was something there. Finally she caught a movement. Following it, she saw her enemy, a man in black. With...

For Some #myfirstcontest

For some, growing up never happens.

Almond Blossom

    My name is Almond Blossom.
    Your first reaction was to scrunch up your forehead in confusion and ask why in the world someone would name their child Almond, especially when it sounds more like a girls name and I am not a girl. I'm not sure. My mom was into weird names when I was born, I guess. And it didn't help that my last name is Blossom. My twin sister didn't get it much better. Apple Blossom. Mom liked the A theme. My sister and I had different ideas. Once we were old enough to care, we decided that I'm Almie and she's Peacock. Don't judge. We were five, okay? She was obsessed with peacocks and the name stuck, although it's shortened to Aco most of the time. 
    But back to my story. 

Ice Tomb

    A thin white layer of white powder covered every surface in sight. My breath froze in the frigid air that hung heavy and still inside the chamber. I had given up trying to stay warm by moving around my tiny cage long ago. Now the dull ache from my shivering clutched at my muscles, demanding any energy that would have been used in finding a way out to keep my body from convulsing. I hugged myself, more for the satisfaction that I could still use my arms than for the warmth it would have given me through my thin black sports jacket. 
    I'd been told about this weather phenomenon, the cold, white powder. I had never believed the tales. I thought they were just some stories some storytellers had made up when they ran out of interesting things to say.  I thought I knew better, so when a report came that temperatures around the globe were...

The Vistas Beyond

From My Window

    From a robin's nest came the sounds of new life and selfishness.
    From the next door neighbor came the smell of newly cut grass.
    From my own chimney came billowing white clouds of smoke.

Polar Opposite

The Inner Thoughts of Darina Marcus

    That girl curled up in the corner of the park bench? That's Darina Marcus. 
    She'd dying.
    Yep. 
    But she told me that she'd never let it get her down. Maybe you're wondering who I am. Well, my identity will be shock to you, no matter how gently I break it to you, so I'll just do it. 
   I'm Darina's diary. She named me Rene a long time ago. On her tenth birthday, her mom, the beautiful Gwen, gave me to her. I'll never forget the look on her face when she unwrapped me. Total disbelief. And I'll never forget the first thing she said.
    " What's this? I wanted a Barbie!"
    But I grew on her, I think. My pages are nearly filled up and my leather binding is cracking. She's been saving me by only writing small entry's and in short sentences.
    Here's the very first thing she wrote...

Mine #BleedingLove

I watched him smile at her; the same smile he gave me only a few days ago. How could things change so quickly? One moment I was so happy, finally loved by someone. the next I was myself again, standing on the sidelines and watching everyone else chase their dreams. Me? I never had dreams. Well, besides the normal ones of marrying a handsome young guy and having a beautiful baby. That didn't work out so well. But that smile. That was my smile. Jealousy clutched at my heart like the vines of ivy, strangling any other emotion. My heart was bleeding tears with every throb. 
    I'm bleeding in love.
    

Sky #oneblue

We wanted to see the skyscraper unveiled, not the deep blue sky itself.

empty notebook pages

The blank pages call me.
" Fill us with stories."

Me? 

I can't write anything worth reading right now, let alone a story.

You may as well tell me to touch the sun.

Still they call me.
" At least write something."

Why?


Even I cringe as I read the scramble of letters and words that I've slapped onto the page.

You may as well as me to exhaust myself trying to lift a mountain.

Now they just won't shut up.
" Please don't leave us blank."

Really?

What do you want me to write then?


You must have some idea.

Because I don't.

Dear Maddox

Dear Maddox,

I've never met you, but you seem like someone who would be a wonderful friend! ( Plus, we're only a year apart, I'm fifteen, and that always helps!) My name is Mary, and I'm not actually sure what to say, but I wanted to tell you that you are not alone. I don't know how to comfort you because I've never experienced anything like what your going through. Never forget that there are many people who love you. I'm a Christian, so I can say, even though I've never met you, that I love you. I love you because God loves you. I don't know your circumstances, and if you have accepted Jesus into your heart, but I want to encourage you to put your faith in Him and let Him shoulder your burdens. 

You look so happy in your picture! I hope that's because you are surrounded by people who love you and that you aren't scared. I'm...

Scarlet Fever

    She stumbled down the dirty street, her feet dragging in the mud. The gutters were clogged with the bodies of animals and humans. Anna dry-heaved for the ump-teenth time. She'd thrown up her last meal of moldy bread days ago. 
    " Miss, please! Can you spare me something to eat?"
    Anna shook her head and side-stepped the raspy voiced old man. The image of his out-stretched hands and pleading eyes branded itself into her memory. Hot tears began to slide down her cheeks. As she had wandered the streets of London for the last three days, the starving people kept begging her for money or food, seeing by her expensive dress that she had come from a wealthy family. She'd blend in with them soon enough, by the way the mud seemed to be attracted to her dress and by how clumsy she was that even when trying her hardest, she always seemed to...

From the Earth

the mist falls
covering the hill in dewy shadows.


a form rises from it's hiding place
in the folds of the earth.

it crawls over the trodden ground
beneath the place that used to be it's home.
  
a undistinguished look spreads across it's twisted features
as it frees itself from the confines that had held it for so long.

 

Prologue to an unknown story

    Hushed voices drifted into the  room through a slit in the heavy oak door. 
    " We didn't know, sire, we couldn't. But we can't keep them both. There can only be one queen. The other will be placed with a respectable family far away."
    A sliver of light cut into the darkness of the chamber. A sigh filled the deafening silence. It came from the corner of the room, where a tall, four-poster bed was placed.
    " I can't take them from her. She loves them already! It would break her heart if I were to take one away."
    In the middle of the bed rested a small form. She trembled.
    " For the good of the kingdom, sire. Think of your people, torn between two equally lawful rulers."
    A low sob escaped her. Beside her rested two little bundles. She touched each lovingly. 
   ...

Luck #PlayTheGame

    I spun the wheel and waited breathlessly. My fingers were crossed behind my back and I watched the tile I wanted near the needle. The wheel stopped on the tile just before mine. I read the inscription on it. I groaned. This was a terrible way to choose a career.

Gone #Jessica Noelle

    "Well, that wasn't supposed to happen," the shorter of the two girls stated matter-of-factly. They stood and watched the rest of the band ride off back towards the castle. 
    " Maybe we could negotiate again?" the other girl said, stepping forward like she would follow them." Aaaaannnndddd..... they're gone."

The Rose

    Beyond the pain I felt at seeing the last petal fall from the ill-fated rose, it was the comparison I made of myself and the rose. I was fading too, pouring out my last breath, as the rose did it's last petal, in a last desperate effort to give someone pleasure. Like the rose, I was scarred and abused. The red of the rose had turned to a dull pink, edged with grey. My life light had dulled as well. The joy that had filled my heart only a short time ago had drained away. Just like the rose. It's stem had become brittle and dry, like my feelings and my words. My words, even against my will, cut like knives. The rose shriveled and died within a few days, as I had in a few months. 
    I hoped and prayed that, just as the fallen rose would grow into a new flower, I would find...

50 followers!!!

Guys! I have 50 followers! Thank you so much! You guys are awesome! To celebrate, I'll give you a prompt.
    Write about a object(ex. knife, apple, toothbrush, ect.) that turns the tide for you hero.

so many things to be thankful for

   The treetops swayed in the wind, their fallen leaves dancing across the muddy lawn. Kaylie smiled and hugged herself against the cold. Inside the house, her entire family,---Ellie, her older sister, and her family, Jared, her oldest brother, and his wife and new baby, her parents, her annoying little brother, Josh, her grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins--- and her ' friend that's a boy'  and his parents, a grand total of thirty people, had gathered to celebrate Thanksgiving. 
    While Ellie and Mama finished up the last meal preparations, Kaylie had snuck outside to have a minute just to enjoy the quiet. Her nieces and nephews hadn't mastered using their inside voices while playing Pilgrims and Indians yet. There was a lot of whooping and hollering. Besides, she was nervous. Sydney, her 'friend that's a boy', had had a suspiciously long conversation with her dad last week. 
    She leaned against the maple tree in the front yard,...

Extraordinary in the Ordinary

Rain

Every droplet contains a soul, 
and when it soaks into the earth,
it sparks a life within the folds of death.

Then springs up through the earths crust
to burst into color like a rainbow close enough to touch.

It consoles itself that even when it dies, 
painful and silent though it's death may be,
a new life begins.

And to think, all from one drop.


 

Sunday School

  "In five days, God created the earth. He was proud of it. It was beautiful and was filled with many exotic plants and animals. He made stars and the atmosphere. As He looked out over the earth, and saw everything He had created, He knew something was missing. So He made a man. He made Adam in His own image, and then, when He saw that Adam was lonely, He made Adam a friend, Eve. Then a snake, a slimy, slippery..."
    " Snakes aren't slimy. Frogs are slimy, snakes are not," a high-pitched, know-it-all voice piped up from the back of the room, interrupting Miss French's story. Miss French sighed. 
    " Thank you, Virginia, for the clarification."
    Virginia, a little encyclopedia, nodded, her curly pigtails bounding by her ears. Her glasses nearly fell off. Miss French went on with her story. 
    " That a serpent, Satan, tempted Eve to eat something...

What is it?

    What is it?
    It sings sweetly as it runs it's course,
    Laughing at danger and smiling at challange.

    What is it?
    It pounds at the hard-packed earth,
    Crushing and dissolving obstacles.
 
    What is it?
    It ascends slowly to it's home above the earth,
    Waiting for it's turn to to descend again.

    What is it?
    It is silent as it covers everything,
    Blanketing the earth in beauty.

    What is it? 
    It sits proudly above it's kingdom,
    Protecting it's subjects from harm.

    What is it?

Novel Writing Competition 2018

Broken Dreams

    The door shut behind the last of the teens with a dull thud. I looked around. The remains of Ella's party looked abandoned and forlorn in the dim light. Ella Ryan was my best friend, but that did not entitle her to use my apartment as a hangout. Coming home from work to find a two dozen teenagers wandering around your house is startling. I told Ella to get them out.
    Debris of chaotic teenagers littered the carpeted floor of my shabby apartment. Ella would help me clean it up tomorrow. Something else bothered me.
     Jack had been there.
     He went away with everyone else. I thought he'd stay.
    I shuffled through the dining room, stuffing trash into a black plastic bag. I took a deep breath, fighting exhaustion. One more peice, and then I could go to bed. I reached for a paper cup. My fingers closed around it. 
 ...

Novel Writing Competition 2018

Broken Dreams

    The door shut behind the last of the teens with a dull thud. I looked around. The remains of Ella's party looked abandoned and forlorn in the dim light. Ella Ryan was my best friend, but she that did not entitle her to use my apartment as a hangout. I'd come home from work to find two dozen teens wandering around my house. I told Ella to make them go away.
    Trash and other debris of chaotic teenagers littered the carpeted floor of my shabby apartment. I'd have to clean it up, but that wasn't what bothered me.
    It was the fact that Jack had been there, and that he went away with everyone else. I thought at least he would stay.
    I shuffled through the dining room, stuffing the larger pieces of trash---cups, plates, candy wrappers--- into a black trash bag. I clutched the edge of it, fighting exhaustion. One more cup,...

Turned to Stone

Knowledge

    I had begun to think at one time in my life that magic was real. I had so much to learn. Not only was there magic, but---get this---there was bad magic. Who would have thought that, right? I would come to find out exactly what bad magic was. That's what I'm here to tell. So listen carefully...this might get complicated.

Five Endings

Five Endings

- I closed the book. I was ready to live again.

- So, beyond the danger and the chases, it was a pretty good day.

- I laid down my pen and took a deep breath. Things were going to get really cool from now on.

- Marshmallows melted the chocolate of his s'more as he crammed it into his eight year old mouth. Life couldn't be better.

- I felt for my dagger, but then realized I wouldnt' need it anymore.

In the House

The Wanderer

    She roams the halls, calling for people who have been dead for decades. People she doesn't even know. Her voice is low, like a soft whisper. Her long dress sweeps the floor in pale pink waves. She leans into a doorway and laughs quietly, calling a name. Then she continues on to another door. Night after night, she rules her domain, seeking to find subjects who have long since vanished. 

Success

    Half the names on the list had already been crossed off. Would mine be called?  
    I listened with feverish anxiety, my breathing changing to ragged gasps. Taylor. Scratch. David. Scratch. Charis. Scratch. On and on. More names were crossed off. The man holding the clipboard moved up and down the aisles of teenagers. Groans of disappointment echoed through the room.I itched to raise my hand and beg to be sent. I willed him to say everyone else's names. He got through my entire class, minus me and spindly, pale boy who sat in the corner. The inspector paused, looking from him to me and back again. Then he looked back to his clipboard and back to us. I felt ready to strangle the man.
    " Patrick," the pudgy inspector called. The boy lowered his head and raised his hand. Scratch. My heart hammered in my chest. There was only one name left. 
  ...

A few thoughts...

    To have the friends you've always wanted, you must become the friend you always wanted. 
    To be like the person you admire, you have to first realize that it's impossible. 
    To live your life to the fullest, you must have an anchor to hold onto in the devestaing storms.

Novel Writing Competition 2018

Broken Dreams

    This was the day that was supposed to be all rainbows and unicorns.
    Instead, any unicorns that had appeared was thoroughly gone, not to mention everyone else. The remains of my party looked abandoned and forlorn in the dim light. Trash and other debris of chaotic teenagers littered the carpeted floor of the shabby apartment. I'd have to clean it up, but that wasn't what bothered me.
    It was the fact that Jack had been there, and that he went away with everyone else. Because I couldn't outrun my past.
    I shuffled through the dining room, stuffing trash---cups, plates, candy wrappers--- into a black trash bag. I clutched it, fighting exhaustion. One more cup, and then I could go to bed. I reached for the cup. My fingers closed around it. 
    " Ayla."
    I nearly jumped out of my skin. And then I recognized the voice. I stayed in my...

Why I Write

I write...

I write to go to worlds that are impossible in reality. 
I write to exercise my imagination.
I write to give myself wings.
I write to find parts of me that didn't exist before.
I write to relax.
I write to let go of emotions.

 

otherworld

the sparkle of a thousand waterfalls 
a wink away from reality


    
 

Once the World Was...

The Sun

    One morning, the sun woke and found that he had no meaning in life. Being a impulsive and angry man, he burned the whole earth. All that was left were piles of ashes and the charred remains of the land. The moon came to him after seeing what the sun had done to the earth. 
    " What have you done?" he asked quietly, angry in his own way. The sun shrugged nonchalantly. 
    " I have no meaning. I want something to do. You have no idea how annoying it is when you get gushed over as being beautiful and majestic, and no one wants to even look at me," the sun whined. The moon crossed his arms like a father. 
    " And that gives you licence to ruin the earth?" he chided in his gentle way. The sun glared at him, intense heat radiating off him. The moon began to sweat. " Tell you what....

#1000PaperCranes

    There's an old myth that states that if you fold a thousand cranes, you will be granted one wish. 
    I tried it. 
    For hours on end, I folded. 1...145...467...694...921...1000. I waited for some kind of lightning from the sky. liver shiver, zap in the heart, a genie. Nothing happened and I started to get worried. What of it didn't work? What if I'd spent all that time for nothing? If this didn't work, my family would fall apart. Literally. 
    While I contemplated my predicament and stressed about what could happen, a sparkle floated past my eye. I flinched and drew back, looking around nervously. My eyes came to rest on a old, kindly looking woman sitting by my elbow in the tall grass. Her eyes were closed and her hands were folded in her lap. She sat crosslegged, like me. When I saw her, I did a double take and then jumped...

The Beginning of a Totally New and Strange Life

    Up until now, my life has been a lie.
    When I was ten, my parents disappeared while my home burnt to the ground. Everyone assumed they were dead. People said it was an accident. They said that my mother must have knocked over a candle, or that my dad must have forgot the lantern in the barn. But I know. I know who it was and why he did it. I wanted to talk to him, to tell him that I know what he did. Maybe I should have. But I was always afraid he would think that I was judging him. I wasn't. I just wanted him to know that his secret was safe with me. And I wanted to talk to him. Really badly. The truth is horrifying, considering what he'd done. 
     I loved him.
     When I turned sixteen, I knew I had to talk to him. 
     I...

Moondust

   Moondust.
   That was her name.
    Everyone thought she was just a normal girl with a weird name.
    That was fine with her.

    " Talia, who do you think you'll marry?" Moondust asked, one rainy afternoon when she was nine, as she hung upside down from the bunk bed Talia shared with her little sister. Talia sat in a bean bag chair near the window. She closed her book and stared at the ceiling for a minute before answering. 
    " I think I'll marry Roger," she said, getting a happy smile on her face. Moondust giggled, sending a silver bubble into the air. It floated to the ceiling and popped, showering the room in silvery sparkles. Talia watched them fall and put out her hand, catching some on her palm. Moondust had no idea what they meant. They didn't do anything. Just floated around and looked pretty. It was a better...

This I Believe

This I Believe

    This I believe:

    ~ That the most hurtful thing you can say to your child is that you are disappointed in them. It's different if you are disappointed in what they did. To tell them that you are disappointed in them is like telling them that they didn't measure up. 

    ~ That the world could be made a better place if everyone,( even just a few people can make a difference) put everyone else before themselves. Only if we work together will we see a change. 

    ~ That you can only be one person. Be that person. Nobody cares about who you want to be. They care about who you are now.

The Beginning #loveorsomething

   When I first met Derrek, I thought I  hated him. I learned, over time, that sometimes we pretend to hate someone because we really like them. This was the situation in my case. I might have even said that I loved him, but then, that would be minimizing the whole thing.
    The first thing Derrek ever said to me was, " Were you the girl that punched Ali the other day?" 
    My mind whirled. I punched a lot of people. How was I supposed to know if I'd punched Ali? Later, I found out that Ali was his younger sister, and that I had punched her. That fight had been one of my favorite because it was an actual fight. Most of the time, I was the only one throwing fists and for anyone who fights, that is one of the most disappointing things ever.
     I hit Derrek too, the very next day....

The Beginning #loveorsomething

   When I first met Derrek, I thought hated hated him. I learned, over time, that sometimes we pretend to hate someone because we really like them. This was the situation in my case. I might have even said that I loved him, but then, that would be minimizing the whole thing.
    The first thing Derrek ever said to me was, " Were you the girl that punched Ali the other day?" 
    My mind whirled. I punched a lot of people. How was I supposed to know if I'd punched Ali? Later, I found out that Ali was his younger sister, and that I had punched her. That fight had been one of my favorite because it was an actual fight. Most of the time, I was the only one throwing fists and for anyone who fights, that is one of the most disappointing things ever.
     I hit Derrek too, the very next day....

Mad Libs

Inner Study

Cassie is a 16 year old introvert who live in St. Marys, Georgia. Known for being quiet and easily hurt, she wants nothing  more than to find a family who will love her more than her own did. She pretends to be happy with her circumstances, when in fact, inside, she really feels abandoned and completely alone. Cassie's biggest fear is to be left alone. What Cassie needs is someone to love and to be loved by; the biggest thing getting in the way is her own inability to make lasting friends.

Travel Writing Competition 2018

A look at my view

   If you followed a quiet, dusty highway until you felt like the only human alive, you would probably be near my hometown, Goldendale. 
   Nestled behind the Columbia Gorge is a quaint little town with a small population of people who know each other so well that they basically have a town full of neighbors and best friends. Well, that was in the day when there weren't factories and when the population was still small. Now, Goldendale is a busy, industrious town. The population has grown, and along with it, the amount of housing and businesses. It used to be just a few shops and private businesses lining Main Street, and now there are many more stores. 
    There used to be just one high school, one grade school, one hospital, one library, and one grist mill. There are two dentists working literally side by side. There are several grocery stores and many thrift stores due to the shocking...

Five Beginnings

First lines

~ It started as a gentle breeze. We thought nothing of it. Soon we realized how wrong we were.

~ His fingers slipped through mine and my heart fluttered uncontrollably. I'd never held a guy's hand before.

~ The moon cast a soft glow over the whole mountain. 

~ Eyes glittered in the darkness. Then the branches of the tree above me rustled. I was beginning to regret telling that ghost story. 

~ A opened a book and settled onto my bed. And promptly lost myself in a world that wasn't mine.

A look at my view

    If you followed a quiet, dusty highway until you felt like the only human alive, you're probably near my home town, Goldendale. 
    Nestled behind the hills of the Columbia Gorge is a quaint little town filled with a small population of people who knew each other so well that you basically had a town full of neighbors and best friends. 
    There's one  high school and one grade school, one hospital, one library, one general store, and one grist mill. There's two dentist working literally side by side, several grocery stores, and many thrift stores due to the shocking amount of elderly people. 
    Goldendale has one flashing red light and several stop signs. As I said, many of the inhabitants are elderly. 
    For fun, you might go to the bowling alley, or you might take a trip to the observatory on the top of the hill, or, if you're feeling especially brave, you might...

Where I'm From

I will always remember

I'm from the small town that no one knew of. 
Dirt under my fingernails, and flowers in my hair.
I'm from the crabapple tree, who liked how small it was and never grew up.
I'm from the sap on my hands and freshly baked bread.
Dogs chasing squirrels and me chasing the dog. 
I'm from the time when I pushed my pet chicken on the swing in our front yard. 
From never needing to know what day of the week it was, and not really wanting to.
From never needing to care what I looked like. 
I'm from tree forts, and seesaws and upside down frowns. 
The gently rolling hills and warm summer evenings we spent playing outside.
From the little blue playhouse the attracted ants because of the sugar water we pretended was coffee. 
I'm from waking up early and snuggling with my family on the couch, basking in the warm sunlight.
I'm from cold winters and feet of...

Wait

I'm standing on the edge of a cliff,
waiting for the final push,
to send me falling,
into space,
into that moment when time stops 
and everything holds it's breath,
waiting,
watching,
dreading,
wishing...

Monostich

The Night

A lonely voice cried through the silence of the night.

Mission of Peril

     " You did not! You did not just do it!" Kate gasped, completely dumbfounded. He looked at her and then looked over the edge of the cliff.
" You said to." he told her, grinning sheepishly.
" Jay! We kinda needed that, remember?" she face-palmed and turned in three circles, dropping to the ground on the third circle. Jay chuckled.
" What?" Kate demanded, glaring daggers at him. 
" You looked very similar to a dog about to sleep. You know," he turned in three circles and plopped onto the ground," that." 
      Kate honestly couldn't believe she was working with him.
" Who even are you?" she asked, almost scared of him. His face got serious and he swallowed hard.
" The only thing you need know about me is that my name is Jay. And that my favorite animal is a silver squirrel." Then his face brightened like a little boy  at that last sentence. ...

Flight

She raced through the woods, heedless of the amount of dager proceeding her, but conscious of the overpowering sense of unease. How could he? Who was he to even think of storming into her parents throne room and demanding her hand in marriage? Surely her parents wouldn't even consider his offer, or demand. But they sent her away rather calmly. Perhaps too calmly. 
     She ducked under a willow branch, her thoughts continuing at a furious pace. What if it was all a conspiracy? What if her parents were in agreement with that wretched man. She shook her head, willing the idea to flee. But as she leapt over a fallen log, and brushed a squirrel from her shoulder, it kept coming back. They wouldn't. She was their daughter after all. But then, why did she feel so worried? And why was she running away, if she was so sure that her parents would never betray her?
   ...

Brave Enough

All her life she'd been told that fear was a weakness. Even though she knew that it was against everything she had learned, she still couldn't squash the heavy feeling of dread when she faced the night. Now, as she stared into the blackness, she felt the stifling stillness, and her courage withered like a flower under the afternoon sun. It was then she knew that fear was part of everyone; it was ingrained in her. Fear meant that she could still feel, she was not hard as stone yet. And it was then, when she had let herself feel fear, that she felt fearless. It was then that she let go of her past and stepped into her future.