Alliyah

United States of America

Hello everyone! I'm Alliyah. Writing is my passion. I'm a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Days Saints. I also love nature, reading, making people laugh, playing sports, photography and art.

Message from Writer

Writing is my passion--fiction is my specialty. And my goal is to improve on both.
All my writing is clean--that means no swearing, etc.
Also, if you are interested, I post on Wattpad (@alliyahwriting) and Prose (Alliyah). If you like what you see here--feel free to check those out too!
Thanks for all the support and reviews! -Alliyah

Published Work

Novel Writing Competition 2019

Steadfast Excerpt

    Summer has a distinct smell.
    It’s the track and field smell—only stronger. That was part of the reason why I loved summer so much. 
    Summer smelt like warm grass and black-top tracks baking in the sun. It smelled faintly like chlorine and fried food; like overcooked flowers and sunscreen and new shoes. 
    The smell of summer was all around us as we pounded down the track. The smell of sweat lingered faintly in the air as well, brought on by the California sun that beat down upon our backs.     
    Saige, Reyna and I were crouching at the start line, preparing for our sixth rep of a 60m acceleration. 
    I was frozen in place, waiting for the sound of Carter’s  voice: the signal to shoot out of my four-point position and into a sprint. I stared down at the black rubber of the track, felt it pressing into my fingertips, my knees. Every muscle...

Novel Writing Competition 2019

Steadfast Excerpt

    Summer has a distinct smell.
    It’s the track and field smell—only stronger. That was part of the reason why I loved summer so much. 
    Summer smelt like warm grass and black-top tracks baking in the sun. It smelled faintly like chlorine and fried food; like overcooked flowers and sunscreen and new shoes. 
    The smell of summer was all around us as we pounded down the track. The smell of sweat lingered faintly in the air as well, brought on by the California sun that beat down on our backs.     
    Saige, Reyna and I were crouching at the start line, preparing for our sixth rep of a 60m acceleration. 
    I was frozen in place, waiting for the sound of Carter’s  voice: the signal to shoot out of my four-point position and into a sprint. I stared down at the black rubber of the track, felt it pressing into my fingertips, my knees. Every muscle...

Steadfast (Chapter 3)

“I’m gonna need the lowdown.”
I stared down at my ice cream cone and shrugged. 
“Hey?” Aaron waited until I dragged my gaze up to his to continue. “It’s okay, TJ. You know that, right?” 
“What?” I asked, only half-interested. 
Aaron raised his eyebrows. “Sass-o-meter: level red,” 
I rolled my eyes and deadpanned. 
Aaron’s eyes were smiling. “Alert! Alert! May implode from  toxic levels of sass--” 
“People are staring,” I hissed, glancing sideways at the other people around us. 
Aaron stifled a laugh. He reached out his hand, laying it on my arm as though he was trying to be comforting. “Sweetie, I’m just worried for you--” 
My solemnity broke finally and I burst out laughing. “Aaron.” 
“If you need to talk about anything--” 
“Would you shut up?” I asked, exaggerated exasperation in my voice. 
“Shh! Your ice cream is melting,”
I groaned and stole a glance at my cone. It really was melting. I let out a...

Steadfast (Chapter 2)

It was a big deal. 
Honestly, I thought I’d feel anything. Anything but numb--that is. 
But sitting there, in a doctor’s office that smelled like too-strong sanitizer and Old Spice, I felt numb. 
Numb and alone and empty. 
I don’t know about you, but in my opinion, empty is the worst thing to feel. Empty means there is nothing inside, nothing good, nothing bad. Nothing at all. 
Empty means there is no one standing beside you. It means that there is nothing ahead of you and everything that was behind you--everything that you’ve worked so hard to build, to create--all of that is gone. Empty means that you’re at the bottom and you’ve got nothing to build off of. 
That’s how I felt when Dr. Klaus told me that my left leg had developed a tumor. A tumor that meant surgery. 
Dr. Klaus leaned forward, pressing his fingers together in a steeple shape. The flourescent lights of the clinic glinted...

Steadfast (Chapter 1)

“It’s not a big deal, Mama!” I smiled at her in an attempt to soften the anxious crease between Christina Jackson’s eyes. I put my hands on either of her shoulders, close to the base of her neck and used my thumbs to massage the muscles there. 
“It’s gonna be fine!” I stood on my tiptoes and leaned my head over so that I could see her face from where I stood behind her. 
Mama rolled her eyes, trying to look annoyed but not exactly succeeding. “You’re always hurting yourself,” She complained, a half-amused expression on her face. In her eyes, however, I could see her worry hadn’t dissolved. “I swear, if you get another sports injury I’m going to go gray entirely.” 
I scoffed, “Mama, you’re not gray.” 
“I am going to be!” She exclaimed. 
I laughed and she joined with me. 
“You’re going to be the death of me, Talia,” 
I smiled mischievously. “I know,” 
Mama’s outburst of...

Steadfast (Chapter 1)

chapter: 1
    “It’s not a big deal, Mama!” I smiled at her in an attempt to soften the anxious crease between Christina Jackson’s eyes. I put my hands on either of her shoulders, close to the base of her neck and used my thumbs to massage the muscles there. 
“It’s gonna be fine!” I stood on my tiptoes and leaned my head over so that I could see her face from where I stood behind her. 
Mama rolled her eyes, trying to look annoyed but not exactly succeeding. “You’re always hurting yourself,” She complained, a half-amused expression on her face. In her eyes, however, I could see her worry hadn’t dissolved. “I swear, if you get another sports injury I’m going to go gray entirely.” 
I scoffed, “Mama, you’re not gray.” 
“I am going to be!” She exclaimed. 
I laughed and she joined with me. 
“You’re going to be the death of me, Talia,” 
I smiled mischievously. “I know,”  ...

Steadfast (Chapter 1)

                                                                                      steadfast.
                                                                                        alliyah
                                                                                     chapter: 1
    “It’s not a big deal, Mama!” I smiled at her in an attempt to soften the anxious crease between Christina Jackson’s eyes. I put my hands on either of her shoulders, close to the base of her neck and used my thumbs to massage the muscles there. 
“It’s gonna be fine!” I stood on my tiptoes and leaned my head over so that I could see her...

Earth Day Writing Competition 2019

Smoke

Summer last year wasn't spent outside. 
The smoke was outside. 
My little sister and I stayed inside, pressing our noses against the glass of windows and imagining the sky was blue. We thought that maybe, if we wished hard enough, the outdoor activities we once had enjoyed could be possible again. Maybe I should've wished on that dandelion flower--because the hoping that my sister, myself and the rest of the community were synchronized in, it wasn't enough. 
The smoke--it hung in the air: thick and dark and all-consuming. It covered the horizon, washing the bright colors of the  sunset into the muddy grey that had become the color of the sky.
The smoke--the heat, the smell, the feel--it's suffocating. It was pressing down on me, smothering the breezes and snuffing out the sunshine that I used to associate with summer on the West Coast. 
The smoke--it was all around me and even though I couldn't see the leaping, red-orange tongues...

Katie

A/N: Just a quick note. This is an excerpt from a story that I'm working on right now. It sort of has an Action, almost Sci-Fi feel to it. I do switch POV. Sorry if that bugs you! I would love feedback--I would like to know if this is a story that you guys would be interested in seeing more of. 
Any questions, please comment. Hope you enjoy!
Oliver-
"Ollie? Ollie!"
I froze. Mentally, I groaned.
Then I saw her. My little sister.
Mom was going to kill me.
"Woman!" I said, exasperated. "It's Oliver. Even better: Agent Grayson."
Katie actually laughed. Hands tied behind her back, locked in a dark room--she laughed.
I rolled my eyes heavenward.
"Ollie, hurry up! Get me out of here, will you?"
I offset my jaw as I stalked forward. "Nah, I was just going to wait for Pete to get here."
Katie glared at me. "Hurry up,"
I unsheathed the knife at my...

This Week...

Hey, everyone! This isn't an actual writing piece. I just want to let all of you know that I won't be posting this week. My family is doing a media fast. 
I'll definitely miss Write the World and all of you beautiful writers. Thank you all so much for all the the likes, comments and reviews--what a huge motivation to write each day. 
I'll miss ya'll. 
Any questions, you can comment on this and I'll get back to you next week! 

Katie

A/N: Just a quick note. This is an excerpt from a story that I'm working on right now. It sort of has an Action, almost Sci-Fi feel to it. I do switch POV. Sorry if that bugs you!
Because today is National Siblings Day I decided to publish this first--you'll soon see why....
Any questions, please comment. Hope you enjoy!
Oliver-
"Ollie? Ollie!"
I froze. Mentally, I groaned.
Then I saw her. My little sister.
Mom was going to kill me.
"Woman!" I said, exasperated. "It's Oliver. Even better: Agent Grayson."
Katie actually laughed. Hands tied behind her back, locked in a dark room--she laughed.
I rolled my eyes heavenward.
"Ollie, hurry up! Get me out of here, will you?"
I offset my jaw as I stalked forward. "Nah, I was just going to wait for Pete to get here."
Katie glared at me. "Hurry up,"
I unsheathed the knife at my side, "Hey, hey," I said, holding up my...

Earth Day Writing Competition 2019

Smoke

Summer last year wasn't spent outside. 
The smoke was outside. 
My little sister and I stayed inside, pressing our noses against the glass of windows and imagining the sky was blue. We thought that maybe, if we wished hard enough, the outdoor activities we once had enjoyed could be possible again. Maybe I should've wished on that dandelion flower--because hoping alone that my sister, myself and the rest of the community were synchronized in, it wasn't enough. 
The smoke--it hung in the air: thick and dark and all-consuming. It covered the horizon, washing the bright colors of the  sunset into the muddy grey that had become the color of the sky.
The smoke--the heat, the smell, the feel--it's suffocating. It was pressing down on me, smothering the breezes and snuffing out the sunshine that I used to associate with summer on the West Coast. 
The smoke--it was all around me and even though I couldn't see the leaping, red-orange tongues...

Earth Day Writing Competition 2019

Smoke

Summer last year wasn't spent outside. 
The smoke was outside. 
My little sister and I stayed inside, pressing our noses against the glass of windows and imagining the sky was blue. We thought that maybe, if we wished hard enough, the outdoor activities we so enjoyed could be possible. Maybe I should've wished on that dandelion flower--because the mere hoping that my sister, myself and the rest of the community were synchronized in, it wasn't enough. 
The smoke--It was in the air: thick and dark and all-consuming. It was covering the horizon, washing the bright colors of the  sunset into the muddy grey that has become the color of the sky.
The smoke--the heat, the smell, the feel--it's suffocating. It was pressing down on me, smothering the breezes and snuffing out the sunshine that I used to relate to summer on the West Coast. 
The smoke--it was all around me and even though I can't see the leaping, red-orange tongues...

Poetry and Spoken Word Competition 2019

A Memory

White.
Falling.
Racing.
Dancing.
Floating
Flying.
Gliding.
High, high above me.
An angel.
Soaring just out of reach.
My hands grasp and pull back empty.
I must wait.
It’s coming to me.
Slowly first.
Then faster.
Faster.
Faster.
A swirling mass of cloud and Sky.
A whirlwind of Dreams.
Light as a feather.
Happy.
Free.
Falling on my face.
My hands.  
Sending tingles through my spine.
Stinging cold.
Refreshing.
Sharp.
Raw.
Beautiful.
A thousand shards of crystal.
All different.
Never the same.
Hand-sculpted art.
From above.
Now it’s melting.
Melting.
Melting in you hand.
Disappearing.
Gone.
Sliding down my palm.
A tear.
A single tear.
A Memory.  



 

Self-Respect

Self-Respect

1. Perseverance--the fact that I'm a fighter. I push through whatever life throws at me.
2. Writing. I made a goal in December 2018 to write 1000 words Mon-Sat each week. It's April now and I'm still plugging along. 
3.My attitude. It's not always easy, but I like to keep a smile on my face. Not only for others, but for myself. 
4. Inclusiveness. One of my biggest goals is to include and love everyone--no matter their background or their personality or what they look like. 
5.Passion. I love choosing something that I have a strong desire to do and following through with it. I love the feeling of accomplishment that I get when I achieve something that I've put my mind to. I'm a stubborn person and I don't like being told that I can't do things. Instead discouraging me, this only serves as tinder to a flame of determination. 

Bread and Light

Bread and Light

1. Words that nourish my soul. Words that paint pictures, that create stories. Words that keep me up at night. Words that allow me to escape into a different world. Words that make me who I am, that allow me to be who I am. Words have always been a part of me and I have a feeling that they always will be. 
2. Chocolate--because who doesn't love chocolate. Chocolate nourishes the crazy part of me--the part that stays up late at night, the part that celebrates every victory, the sweet tooth part of me. 
3. Music nourishes me because it allows me to express myself. It nourishes the part of me that wants of shine for the world. The off-the-wall, singing-at-the-top-of-my-lungs, laughing-to-hard-to-breathe part of me. 
4.Sports. There's something about being part of a team that nourishes me. Something about knowing someone is watching you, cheering you on. Something about knowing that someone knows how to help you improve, how...

Empower

It started with a few words. 
One syllable, maybe. 
Mom. Dad. 
It only took off from there. 

For as long as I can remember I have loved words. Something about the way that they are spread out across the paper; something about the way that they weave together a story. 
As a child, I remember always wanting to write things down--things I wanted to say to people, questions I wanted to ask. Because if I wrote my thoughts, my heart--my words--down then others would understand. 
For me, words have always been an escape. A safe place. My love of words is what is unique about me. 
I believe that uniqueness empowers us. 
Why? 
Because it's who we are. 
We're not the facade that we build up for others. We're not the walls that  we construct. We're not the make-up, the high-heeled shoes, the sequined dresses. We're not the fake smiles. We're not the questions we don't really mean. That's not...

A Christmas Carol: A retelling of the classic

“Eb?”  
       I look up.
       “…Ebenezer?” A hoarse voice cries. “Ebenezer Scrooge!”
       I jolt upright, knocking my knees on my desk. A cup clatters to the floor, spilling pens across the carpet. “Yes?” I shout, scrambling around the side of the desk and sending the chair to the floor in the process.
       “Scrooge!” Comes the voice again.
       “What?” I holler, abandoning the writing material. I stumble to my feet and into the office adjacent to my own.
       “This had better be important, Cratchit,”
       My clerk is huddled in the corner of his office, behind a cluttered desk.
Robert Cratchit wasn’t much to behold—he was older than me by a decade. Time hadn’t been kind to him. He had long-ish hair that was streaked with premature grey. His poor health and near-empty pockets had much to do with that. His mud-colored eyes were watery, and his thin lips suggested that he had not...

Snow and Dreams

White.
Falling.

F
 A
   L
     L
       I
        N
          G
Racing.
Dancing.
Floating
Flying.
Gliding.
High, high above me.
An angel.
Soaring just out of reach.
My hands grasp and pull back empty.
I must wait.
W
 A
  I
   T.
Patience.
It’s coming to me.
Slowly first.
Then faster.
Faster.
Faster.
A swirling mass of cloud and Sky.
A whirlwind of Dreams.
Light as a feather.
Happy.
Free.
Falling on my face.
My hands.  
Sending tingles through my spine.
Stinging cold.
Refreshing.
Sharp.
Raw.
Beautiful.
A thousand shards of crystal.
All different.
Never the same.
Hand-sculpted art.
From above.
Now it’s melting.
Melting.
Melting in you hand.
Disappearing.
Gone.
G
 O
   N
     E.
Sliding down my palm.
A tear.
A single tear.
A Memory.  

Tears

Tears are hidden behind her smile. 

Soldier

    “You’re right,”
    I couldn’t read the expression in his stormy eyes, but I knew that it didn’t match with the tone of his voice.
    “It’s my fault. You should never have been assigned this mission. I apologize,” He unfolded his arms and reached forward to grip the table, his knuckles slowly growing paler. “I never should’ve given you a mission that you couldn’t handle.” His voice was sorrowful.
    I gritted my teeth, trying to calm the unsteady beating of my heart. I took a steadying breath. “I could’ve handled the mission--that’s not what this is about.” I tried to keep my voice even, like my superior’s.
    The sergeant's eye widened briefly, a flash of expression across his otherwise stony face. “What did you say, Private?”
    I blinked once, slowly, silently cursing myself. “I said that I could’ve handled the mission. Sir.”
    “Ah.” The single syllable sent a shiver up my spine. “So, then,...

Sprint

    My heart is threatening to burst.
    My stomach twists violently, like a knife is embedded deep in my flesh, inside of me.
    My whole body is shaking--trembling almost--poised for action.
    The gun goes off.
    Something inside of me screams. My muscles stretch, galvanized into action.
    I’m shooting forward now; head straight, legs pumping. Each step boosts me forward, the impact jarring me. Wind rushes past, my vision blurring everything around me.
    But one thing is clear. In sharp focus--the track.
    There is nothing but the track. The white lines guiding me, egging me on.
    I can feel runners around me, feel their strides shaking the earth. The sound of their breathing rasps in my ear.
    But I don’t focus on them.
    There is nothing but the track in my mind.
    The meters are disappearing, fading behind me. My muscles are burning, screaming. My breath is coming is gasps;...

Home

It was hard to believe. After two years, I was finally home.
Home.
Almost. Not yet.
I gripped the leather handle of my bag tighter, the sweat on my palms making them slip across the smooth surface.
What would it be like, after all this time? Different? The same?
The sound of my boots on the floor was echoey, and distant. I tried to walk lighter, tried to breathe slowly, more evenly; I tried to swallow over the rough, uncomfortable feeling in my throat. But my body wasn’t listening to my pleas. A tingling feeling danced in my stomach.
I rounded the corner, crowds of people pressing around me.
Then it all opened up; the crowd around me dispersed, each person turning their own way. In front of me, more people gathered--waiting for a long lost family member, or a guest, or a friend.
Or a solider coming home.
My gaze roved over the group, searching for her. My...

It's Enough


You don’t have to be perfect.
    You don’t have to be like anyone else.
    You are who you are.
    And guess what? That’s enough.
    Your crooked smile? It’s enough.
    Your laugh? It’s enough.
    Your heart. It’s enough.
    You’re personality. It’s enough.
    All of it is enough.
    Your love of nature. Your mismatched socks. Your big round glasses. They’re enough.
    The tears you cry at night. Your fear of the dark. They’re enough.
    It’s okay that your hair doesn’t look perfect. That you’re about as fast as the turtle next door.
    It’s okay that you fumble up sometimes, make mistakes.
    It’s okay that you’re report card spells ‘CAB’ even when you did your best. Besides ‘AAA’ doesn’t even spell anything.
    It’s okay that your words come out all mixed up. That sometimes your answer isn’t the right one.
    It’s okay that you don’t wear the most fashionable clothes....

Perfect

    I hate stereotypes.
    I hate it when the world makes a mold and tries to stuff me into it. I hate it when the world tries to make me conform to their standards. To be like they expect me to be.
    I hate it when the world expects me to act a certain way because of the color of my skin. Or the way I talk. Or the way I hold my head.
    I hate it when the world tries to put me in a box. To cut off everything that doesn’t fit in their idea of who I’m supposed to be.
    I hate it when the world tries to hold me back, hold me down, because they don’t believe I can make it.
    I hate it when the world tries to change me. To make me into their twisted idea of perfect.
    Because that ‘perfect’, their perfect, isn’t me.
And guess what...

Polar Opposite

Cold

I take a deep breath. 
Air, dry and frigid, fills my lungs. 
It's cold. 
I feel it on my skin, pressing against it, making my core feel warm and everything else numb.
But I feel it inside too. Like a negative flame, burning and harsh and powerful. It's life-giving, but in different way than warmth. It's a quiet power, but brutish all the same. A silent giant. 
I squint, trying to make out the world before me. 
The world before me is frozen, everything coated in a layer of ice. Protected. Raw. 
It's like a white blanket over everything; stiff and crystalline, catching the sunlight in rugged, asymmetrical flashes.  
Wind blows over the landscape, picking up the fine layer of snow that frosts the ice, and hurling it through the air as a stark white cloud. It's not a breeze--not in any sense of the word. It's rough and powerful. I feel it touching my face, stinging my sting, biting harder...

The Vistas Beyond

Light

Light. It filtered through the clouds overhead--reflecting off our hearts and our windowpanes, tearing the blanket of gloom that was trapping us, suffocating us. A shred of light, a single ray--yet it is as significant as the air that we breathe. 

Tiny Love Story

The Same Time

I thought I couldn't live without her.
I was wrong. 
In a way.
 My heart was still beating. My body kept on living.
But in a way I was right. 
When she died, sunshine died too. 
Laughter died.
Happiness hid its face. 
It rained all day--but no one danced in the downpour. I simply watched from indoors as the sky bled grey tears onto the world. 
When she died part of me died with her. The part that she brought out. The best part. 
So I guess in a way, we died at the exact same time. 
The same time.

 

Writing Resolutions

Writing Goals

WRITER goal-  As a writer, I hope to be more open with my writing this year--to share it with others and seek feedback. 
CRAFT goal- This year, 2019, I hope to improve my descriptive writing.