beth r.

United States

~just your average teenage writer~

Message from Writer

relationship status: currently dating peter parker, thank you very much
there's too many people i want to shout out here... love you all!
thanks so much for 130!
i follow back lol
have a great day!

Published Work

what my fbi agent probably thinks of me

Me: *on phone*
Agent: what is she doing she has like twenty tests tomorrow!
Me: *snorts from meme*
Agent: *rolls eyes*
Me: *shuts phone, opens laptop*
Agent: *tears in eyes* Yes! fInAlly, she's doing something productive! Homework!
Laptop: *sound of 'Friends' intro plays for the fifth time that day*
Agent: hgvgdjuhfshbiiluv

why does food always taste better with a tv show

Am I the only one who saves the "good food" for when I'm watching something?
Then I make a whole plate...
Sit down...
And finish it before the theme song even ended.

a question about cross posting

this is in poem form
so it 
        c  a  n  '  t
get taken d
               o
               w
               n

can i 
put my work
      from here
            on OTHER

writing platforms?

why giraffes shouldn't exist

It's funny that a pony with a horn is so unbelievable.
But yet we've totally accepted, without question,
these deer horse leopard camels with 50 foot long necks and purple tongues.

my wardrobe consists of black leggings and sweaters

"You wear so much black! Spice it up a little!"
*sips tea* ... First of all, don't tell me what to wear, sweetie. Also, that new ramen flavor I tried last week added plenty of spice to my life. FURTHERMORE, there is plenty of color in my closet. I've got clothes that are dark black, midnight black, faded black, black black... the list goes on. 
Oh, and why only sweaters? For some inexplicable reason, I rather suffer in sweltering heat the likes of a fiery furnace than take off my hoodie.
Why?
I don't know. 
 

my teacher asked me to reflect on america, so i did

it's too late for innocence
we should have learned to grow up yesterday

why is a crush called a crush

is it because they're sweet and charming, and the next thing you know, you're falling down the inevitable rabbit hole of feelings, and you're common sense is being CRUSHed by said feelings, and then they ghost you or don't know you exist, and quite literally, CRUSH your heart and soul or YOU CAN JUST TEXT ME, ALEX
*throws chair*

 

the time i dressed up as neil armstrong's ex wife

Fact #1: Neil Armstrong was the first man on the moon.
Fact #2: I was a weird kid...

We had to write a biography for a famous person, in fourth grade.
I did Neil Armstrong, because I was going through I space faze. This face has since passed, when I became aware that it is a physical impossibility to eat warm, gooey mac n' cheese in space. This, dear friends, is a sacrifice I'm unwilling to pay
Anyway, I wrote (more like chicken scrawled) this little book about Mr. Armstrong's ENTIRE life. It took me like, two whole hours, which is an eternity for someone like me who has the attention span of a crouton. 
Part of the grade was presentation, and I lot of the kids were dressing up as the person they wrote about. Since my family couldn't find a freaking space suit that would be delivered the next day (I was a procrastinator from an early age),...

i'm baaaack

Hiatus is a funny thing.
Like you leave, and you come back and you feel like you missed a lot of stuff. You leave, and you come back and you've only raised your Biology grade by %2.
*throws text book across room* Biology.
You leave, and you come back, and there's more new writers than familiar ones on the dash. You wanna do a welcoming post, but you can't because remember when we all did that a month or two ago and all the pieces got taken down? (ah, being rebellious potatoes... good times!)
So, I'm back. 
(insert Thomas Jefferson voice) What'd I miss?

People Power!

just do it (oops hope nike doesn't sue me)

vote
because honestly? your life depends on it.

Speechwriting Competition 2020

special

"Normal is nothing more than a cycle on a washing machine."
Whoopie Goldberg said this incredibly powerful line, that I hope we all agree with.
However, we need to ask ourselves- are we really, truly accepting of differences?

Before the apocalypse- shout out to COVID- I volunteered at a local group for special needs children once a month. I can't even describe how much this experience has helped me grow as a person. Okay, let me reel back before we dive off the mushy, emotional deep end. The kids had all types of disabilities- Autism, Down Syndrome, cerebral palsy... the list goes on. I was always astounded by how well they handled their situations. They were happy kids, and fun to be with. 
The thing is, not everyone can see that.
I was talking to one of the sisters when she came to pick up her brother, Alex. I was telling her about how much I adore working with the...

Why I Write

why i write

Honestly, I don't know.








 

this piece will have something for EVERYONE on this website (sorta) (also tw in message box)

COMEDY/RELATABLE:
My friend really doesn't know how to whisper. It's a life threatening condition- for me.
" *whispering* he's kinda cute..."
" OMY GOD YOU THINK HE'S CUTE???"
*inhales sharply and is ready to disappear*


POETRY/PROSE:
i.
and vulnerability laughed/ as innocence dangled from the
                                                                                   e   d   g   e
of conspicuous consciousness.



FICTION/FANTASY:
She continued running, breathless. She had to get off this planet, off to her home. Power surged as she lifted off the platform, and General Mixon's threats seeming to reverberate through the galaxy. 



HISTORICAL FICTION/ NONFICTION:
Poland, 1941

BAM.
The shot rang out, and you whip around. Jacob sat there, the inevitable crimson staining green camouflage.
"Like Christmas." He breathed, and the tears you swore wouldn't...

my love life but it's a video game quest. you're welcome.

Your quest, if you choose to accept it, is one of horror.
You must travel through the the sea, that's full of plenty of fish- fish that are DANGEROUS and will break your heart. Literally. 
You must then trek up the Mount Cheesey Pick Up Lines and sojourn to the Jungle of Awkward Hand Holding (because why are my hands sweating?!).
Try to avoid the Desert of Loneliness, Netflix Binging, and Icecream at all costs- it only brings pain, although it's a popular vacation spot by Valentine's Day. 
Your goal: The Cute Guy Who Works at Chick- fil- A.
Good luck, and godspeed.

first hiatus because i'm failing biology

I'll be gone
For only a week
So I could focus
On the seven tests 
I'm drowning in










 

the different types of poetry, explained by someone who knows nothing about poetry

1. Prose
This one is just were you write a bunch of big words together with irregular capitalizations, and it just sounds really pretty. 
Example: 
i.
innocence flees Along the eyelashes of The vulnerable

The beauty about the above is that it means nonsense to me, but someone might find a deep meaning in it.

2. Slam Poetry
Smash things while screaming random words.
Example:
*aggressively throws chair* "MICROWAVE!"

there you have it, folks. Slam poetry.

3. Rhyming
Take it away, Dr.Suess!

Example: roses are red, violets are blue, um...
               a cow goes... moo?
 

Heart Places

that bench

People want to go to cafes, movie theaters, amusement parks. They yearn to travel the world again, going to loud and bustling places.
Well, not me. I just want to sit on that bench.
You know, that bench. The one of peeling black paint and rickety iron? The one were you and I first met? The place I used to feed the birds with Grandma, before she went away. 
The place were David came out to his parents, and Jamie had her first kiss. 
The bench were tears were shed, in laughter and in those rare times of vulnerability? 
The bench were we vented about geometry, and then the conversation inexplicably turned to the meaning of life?
You know, that bench.
It's cornered off with yellow tape in the park, along with a piece of me. 
 

disney+ vs. netflix

Welcome, ladies and gentleman toooo the battle you have all been waiting for!
In one side of the ring, we have 'em in blue, they bring back nostalgia from when you were two, give it up for...
DISNEY PLUS!

*waves at crowd regally*
On the other side, lookin' ravishing in red, you watch them all quarantine in your bed, let's here it fooooor-
Netflix!

*screams, hyping up the crowd*

And let the wrestling match begin!

Aaaand Netflix, with more experience under their belt, gives a Stranger Things punch- one of their greatest assets- to Disney! Netflix goes on to give a Parks and Rec kick... but alas! It seems that move doesn't work for them anymore, Disney dodges it!
Disney gives a Star Wars (over dramatic) leg sweep, which gets Netflix on the ground. They jump right up though, and get Disney is The Umbrella Academy headlock, a killer move. Disney, playing by their strengths, wiggles out and delivers a...

i made friends with a dog today... so i've got that going for me

"How was your day?"
"Incredible."
My friend and I were ditching gym class, and she was watching TikToks on her phone while I looked on, disappointed in humanity. 
I was really bored, when suddenly, I giant, yellow, heaven-sent lab came running up to me. A breathless old man came jogging behind it-
" Simba, dear, leave the girls alone!"
"Sir- your dog. Is. ADORABLE."
The man laughed, and my friends and I talked to him a little about adorable Simba.
Obviously, I couldn't pet it (I hate you, carona). So that was pure torture. But still, it's little interactions like these that make my day. 
Oh, and chicken nuggets. They make my day too.
 

i... i can't leave you, dear bed

And my alarm clock is screaming at me again. So pushy, that one.
The thing is, I'm not leaving. Why would I leave warm sheets and fluffy pillows for *gags* school?
I'll always be here with you, bed.
~25 minutes later~
So. I'm here in school.
Well, I was never good at commitment, anyway...

a wtw history lesson: the great migration and more

Once upon a time, in a land far, far away (also known as the internet), there was a kingdom. Ah yes, a kingdom called Write the World. A kingdom where the princess' dresses were made of silky prose and the knight's swords of daring tales. Sorcerers crafted spell-binding potions of enchanting vocabulary. It was a happy place, full of friendship and unity.
One fateful day, the king held up a yellowed scroll to the kingdom. It read something new- a list of rules.
Guidelines, to be exact.
The princess, knights, and sorcerers were dismayed. Their craft would have to be altered to fit the new rules, their friendships strained with a lack of communication. 
Change is hard, and can be unfair.
Many fled the land, to another far away place, the land of Prose. This became known as 'The Great Migration'.
Others stayed in the land.
This very land, that you, reader, now reside in.
Welcome, to Write the World-...

the 5 levels of friendship

1. Saying hi in the hallways at school
2. Joking around a little, being partners for school projects
3. Lunch together, starting to text
4.  Hanging out not in school- sleep overs, parties, etc.
5. Have texting conversations purely of GIFs and memes. 

showering with a spider on the wall: a test of true bravery

You're relaxing and jamming to Hamilton, when you see it. Big, gross, and an ungodly amount of legs.
Spider.
Sure, spider's are cute when they're Tom Holland, but otherwise... no thank you. You look at the spider, and freeze.
Okay, two choices:
1. Run (but slowly so you don't slip and die).
2. Finish your shower bravely and calmly.

You opt for 2, because courage really does come while humming 'My Shot'. 
"... Okay spider, be quiet if you agree that we will leave each other alone."
Silence.
You go on, not taking your eyes off the creature. Who can trust something with more than two eyes? You grab a shampoo bottle, which of coarse slips out of your hand and slams down on the tub (because that's what they like to do, especially late at night when you're family is sleeping... okay, tangent over.)
You look at the spider, scared that you scared it. How ironic. 
It's not...

how i met my true love

It all started last Sunday.
I was starving, and weirdly hot
so I made may way to the freezer
and there it was.
Oreo and Chips Ahoy
Baskin's Robins icecream.
We have lived happily ever after ever since

Speechwriting Competition 2020

special

"Normal is nothing more than a cycle on a washing machine."
Whoopie Goldberg said this incredibly powerful line, that most agree with.
But are we really, truly accepting of differences?

Before the apocalypse- shout out to COVID- I volunteered at a local play group for special needs children once a month. I can't even describe how much this experience has helped me grow as a person. Okay, let me reel back before we dive off the mushy, emotional deep end. The kids had all types of disabilities- Autism, Down Syndrome, cerebral palsy... the list goes on. I was always astounded by how well they handled their situations. They were happy kids, and fun to be with. 
The thing is, not everyone can see that.
I was talking to one of the moms when she came to pick up her son. I was telling her about how much I adore working with the little guy, when she smiled sadly.

"If only...

(litter)ature

Writing is just graceful word vomit, if you thing about it. You know, eloquent trash from our minds that we re-used and recycled, to reduce the capacity they take up. 
People always say that one man's trash is another man's treasure. Guess that explains why some people find pieces of work more potent with beauty, while others can find that same piece of work potent with idiocy. 
Some works pollute the minds of others, much like the battered soda cans in our seas.
Writing is just beautiful mind-trash, really.

a 3 paragraph essay on why I despise grammarly

It would make an awful boyfriend, because it knows everything and is always correcting you. And it's annoying, because my essays tones are always labeled as 'friendly' by it, while WtW pieces like this are 'professional'. Like, eXcuSe mE?

Yet, I take all of it's persistent suggestions, and I still get points off of my English essay for bad grammar. This would only make sense if my teacher just hates me and wants me to suffer... which is a high possibility. They also red-underline words and say that they are spelled wrong or don't exist, when those words do exist! In all seriousness, it really angered me when they red underlined the word 'pooper' (... as in party pooper). Yes, it exists. How do you want me to spell it? Pup'ar? Pauper??

Also, the word grammarly isn't even a real word. Let that sink in.
 

Speechwriting Competition 2020

special

"Normal is nothing more than a cycle on a washing machine."
Whoopie Goldberg said this incredibly powerful line, that most agree with.
But are we really, truly accepting of differences?

Before the apocalypse (thanks, COVID), I volunteered at a local play group for special needs children once a month. I can't even describe how much this experience has helped me grow as a person. Okay, let me reel back before we dive off the mushy, emotional deep end. The kids had all types of disabilities- Autism, Down Syndrome, cerebral palsy... the list goes on. I was always astounded by how well they handled their situations. They were happy kids, and fun to be with. 
The thing is, not everyone can see that.
I was talking to one of the moms when she came to pick up her son. I was telling her about how much I adore working with the little guy, when she smiled sadly.
"If only more people...

every reality tv show ever

Girl: *walks into mansion's kitchen, slams bag on counter with a scowl*
Only normal person in the family: ... Are you okay?
Girl: Obviously... god ryan leave me alone!
Mom: *enters kitchen with million dollar gold leaf cake* Happy 3/4 Birthday, Stephanie!
Girl: *starts sobbing* MOM! You KNOW I'm on a gluten-free, carb-free, suger-free, vegan-free, oxygen-free diet!
HOW DARE YOU!
Mom: Honey, I-
{next thing we know, the cake is on everybody's faces}
Mom: STEPHANIE! YOU RUINED MY MAKEUP! How dare you commit this mortal sin! 
Other sister: *pops head into kitchen* hey, btw I got married and I'm moving to Argentina. *leaves*

Me, watching the show: There's no way this is real... *turns to dog* right?
Dog: *looks disappointed by the human race*

Speechwriting Competition 2020

special

"Normal is nothing more than a cycle on a washing machine."
Whoopie Goldberg said this incredibly powerful line, that most agree with.
But are we really, truly accepting of differences?

Before the world started ending (thanks, COVID), I volunteered at a local play group for special needs children once a month. I can't even describe how much this experience has helped me grow as a person. Okay, let me reel back before we dive off the mushy, emotional deep end. The kids had all types of disabilities- autism, Down Syndrome, cerebral palsy... the list goes on. I was always astounded by how well they handled their situations. They were happy, fun kids. 
The thing is, not everyone can see that.
I was talking to one of the moms when she came to pick up her son. I was telling her about how much I adore working with the little guy, when she smiled sadly.
"If only more people saw him...

5 types of people in a movie theater

1. *sobs* "but why, disney?"- 
    They just cry, a lot. If it's happy, if it's sad. Just tears, makin' their popcorn soggy *ew*. And you're kinda scared, because you aren't really feeling anything when Dory finds her parents... does that make you a soul- less, emotion-less creature? 
Hm.

2. HHAHAHHAH
    Okay, this. THIS is my grandma. They just laugh REALLY loud at the wrong parts. 

3. Snap crackle pop
    They just eat a lot, and loudly, and it's distracting me from wallowing in self pity when {insert favorite character death}... ugh, I need a moment now. 

*spongebob narrator voice* five minutes later...
 

okay, I'm back *sniffs*

4. *throws popcorn at screen aggressively*
     They are the commentator, voicing their opinions about everything, in a rather alarming way. They usually get "escorted" out by the guy with the flashlight. 

Okay, I actually think the guys with the flashlight have the best job ever. 
...

youtube makeup turtorials are like

Youtuber: HEYYYY GUUUYYSSS 
Me: *goes deaf from their overenthusiastic scream greeting*
Youtuber: mAkE sUrE tO SMASH! [me: flinches] the subscribe button right here. *points everywhere except in the direction of the button*
Youtuber: Okay, so we're gonna do a real easy look today, starting with some super affordable, basic foundation.
*whips out freakin gucci foundation* K, so we're gonna apply the foundation using a blender, with upward strokes.
My BFF: *needs to stop me from using the kitchen smoothie blender, but instead a spongy type thingy*
Me: *before I can even get the foundation on the sponge, the Youtuber moves on*
Youtuber: OKAY! Eyebrows. Remember, no one is perfect. Your eyebrows should like sisters, not twins.
Me: *laughs* Honey my eyebrows don't even look like fifth cousins. 
Youtuber: Eyes! We're gonna go ahead an do a simple wing- *makes a graceful masterpiece literally IN their eye*
Me: How hard can THAT be? *stabs self in the eye and scares dog*

we used to run away from boys, now we chase them

Remember when it was a mortal sin to play with boys in kindergarten?
You had to eat your PB&J with the girls, because you just couldn't catch the dreaded cooties.
Most boys were simply these creatures that would sneer at Barbies. How awful. 
Primary school flies by in a blur, these feelings an ever-present, reliable friend.
Until they aren't.
Middle school rears it's ugly head at your innocence, and things change. Boy's don't seem that awful anymore.
Right?
The end of middle school lurks, and these feelings begin to be voiced in giggles and whispers.
High school has dawned, and things really start to change. You desperately want his attention. You wear things, say things, just to get a cursory glance from Prince Charming.
Prom, Valentine's Day, Homecoming. It's a lot, it's to much, as they all urgently search for someone to take them.
Thing is, you never did get your cooties shot. 

every cooking show ever

*chefs run around urgently in the kitchen/pantry*
chefs: BeHiNd!
          where's the butter?
          WHERES THE BUTTER?
*that one chef who burns everything, than the one who won't stop talking to other chefs- and everyone is like "Just shut up, Carl".*
*time is up, chefs throw up hands like they're being arrested, and let out over exaggerated sighs*
judge: *tastes dish, aggressively spits it out*
           *in accent* THIS MEAT IS SO FROZEN, I CAN HEAR IT SINGING 'LET IT GO' 
                            why did the chicken cross the road? you can ask this one, BECAUSE IT'S SO RAW, IT'S PRACTICALLY                                        ALIVE! 
                            bleep...

“Take Off Your Shoes, This is My House”

trying to follow a prompt for the first time ever here

" It's not enough to just follow your dreams- you need to chase them."
 

throbbing heart, aching feet on cool cement- scarred soles and souls- being idle never created an idol worthy of worship- - faster- into the arms of what you so desperately desire
grasp it!
before it flows out between the cracks of your trembling hands.

 

starbucks logic makes me wanna scream

" Which size would you like?'
" Which size is the smallest?" I ask. 
" A tall."
" Wait... why would the smallest size be called a tall?" 
The barista's eyes lite up with anger. 
" How dare you question the reasoning of Lord Starbucks, mortal!" He rasps. 
Okay, that last line may or may not be exaggerated.
BUT STILL. 
Why the actual heck would the smallest size be called a TALL? *sips tea aggressively* . As for the words Vente and Grande...don't get me started. 
Furthermore, do Starbucks' employees misspell on purpose?
" What's your name."
" Beth."
" Okay, do you put the M before or after the E?"
UM... there's an M? In Beth? 
I've always been more of a Dunkin' girl.
But only for hot cocoa. 
 

Being Okay~ a historical fiction novel, chapter 4 | i really need unapologetic criticism

Ohio- 1955
Samson bit into his apple furiously, squirting juice all over Ruth.
" Uncle Samson, pl-"
" Ruth, I swear. I can't believe this!" He gestured towards the ever-present newspaper in his hand.
Yet another article against racial segregation. Ruth held her tongue.
" I'm off to school." 
She departed before Samson could start ranting, yet again.
The walk to school was rather pleasant, she had to admit. Although the weather was getting cooler, the air was crisp and not too frigid.
She was thinking, of all things, about the weather.
Ruth was disappointed in herself. An amazing mind, dulled by a lack of intelligent human interaction.
In truth, years of being a closed book- caused by the traumas of her past. But she couldn't admit that.
***********************************************************************************************
Mr. Anderson was lecturing about some form of equations. Ruth, who already understood the concept, absent mindedly twirled her pencil between her fingers. 
Ever perceptive, Ruth couldn't help but...

attention school nurses: ginger ale is NOT a miracle cure

I broke my arm in fifth grade. And it totally wasn't because I ran into a wall... 
Anyway. I made my way to the nurses office, my arm disfigured and a little bloody.
" You're fine. Here's a band aid." 
Ends up that I WASN'T really fine... but at least I got a cast and attention (this is 11 year old logic for you).
I don't understand how school nurses think.
Have a fever of 106? Here's a single ice cube in a zip lock bag. 
Have a FREAKIN AX lodged in your chest? Ah, yes, ginger ale is what you need.
I can confidently say that school nurses have ruined my relationship with Canada Dry. 
 

my recent internet searches in a poem

how do you spell the word from that old movie with the nanny?
memes
how to escape an elevator
how many chicken wings can a human eat in one sitting before dying
why is the sky blue?
no seriously, why?
harry potter bloopers
what in the name of god is the pythogorean theorem?
how can i kill geometry?

The Fickleness of My Writing and an Ode to My Two Followers | Throwback, Footnotes!

So, I heard about Write the World from my uncle's step mom's niece's dog's neighbor. Kidding, I found it on Google. Anyway, two days ago, I joined this wonderful literature haven. As I went to write my first article, I realized something rather disturbing. I don't have a writing style
On the community feed, there where breathtaking poems that literally made me cry, and made my work look as appealing as school lunch. 
"Why don't I try writing something deep like that?" I said innocently. "How hard can it be?" 
Famous last words.
I tried to mimic the masterpieces on the dashboard by writing an emotional poem about... a semicolon. 
Yes. A semicolon. Surprisingly enough, it got a like and a kind comment. But still, I couldn't help thinking that there are writers producing pieces that touch my very soul, and I'm out here trying to make punctuation touching. 
I moved on, deciding poetry isn't my niche. I...

Being Okay~ a historical fiction, chapter 3

Moses started to walk the short distance home from another day at school, lost in his busy brain. He had so many thoughts, ideas, opinions. 
If only someone would listen to them.
He was surprised today. Ruth talked back to him- asked him his name! Progress to be sure. He was still confused why Ruth was almost defensive when it came to the dandelion- but hey, who is he to complain? She was slowly opening up to hi-
Thrown to the ground.  Moses was thrown to the ground.
Looking up, his vision was blurred from the glare of the afternoon sun. However, he could see the outline of a muscular, tall boy- no, more like a man. 
The man/boy picked up gangly Moses by the collar. He held him so close to his face, Moses could smell the his rotten breath. He had black hair and pale skin, a sneer plastered across his pointed features. 
" Scum!" He threw Moses...

i freakin hate those first day of school introductions

" So, tell us a little bit about yourself."
I stand up awkwardly. Ugh, I hate these so much.
" Um. I'm Beth. Beth Rogers. Not related to Captain America though."
My friends snort in the back. 
" What are your hobbies?" The too-nice teacher asks.
" Um. I- I hang out with my friends a lot."
" What friends?" My literal best friends calls out with a smirk.
I'll kill her later.
" Any talents?"
Oh, this one I know the answer to.
" I- I can tell you the name of EVERY romantic comedy on Netflix."
" Uh... wow. Well... how about your background?"
This is bad, because I have a very meh background. How can I make it sound exciting?
" Well, you see... I was born at a very young age. Then, suddenly-"
" Alright, I think that's enough of that. Thank you for your time, Beth."
I sit down too quickly.

how we escaped the elevator of doom (yes, that's what we call it now)

We screamed, and jumped, and screamed some more.
Nothing.
" We should pray."
" To who? The Elevator Gods?"
" Yeah... no."
" There has to be a way to contact someone..."
" Well, I don't exactly have a telepathic connection to our history teacher, Clara."
Silence.
" Wait a second... I have my laptop! We can email someone!"
" Em- ail?" The word was foreign on Anaya's tongue.
" Do you even know how to work such ancient forms of communication?" Clara asked.
" Yeah, I have some experience with admin- I mean, people."
" Okay, but we don't know anyone's email."
We flipped through our binders, trying to find any emails we have ever gotten. Clara found our geometry syllabus, which had our teacher's email.
I usually try not to associate with people who are connected to math, but hey, desperate times call for desperate measures.

To: mrsmathteacher@gmail.com
Subject: Pls save us

Um hello,
Clara, Amara, and me...

so... i'm writing this while trapped in an elevator

(Stop laughing at the title, dude. This is SERIOUS.)

   We don't always have school on Sunday, but my school is just dumb. They decided to have state test prepping once a month on Sundays because, well, see the last five words in the previous sentence. 
   Anyway, Clara, Anaya, and I were really tired. So when we heard that the state test prepping was on the second floor of the building, we decided to take the elevator (that's for teachers only) for two reasons.
   1. YOLO
   2. It's called Lazy Sunday for a reason, guys.
   So we went. The elevator was acting normal. We got to the second floor... but the doors didn't open. It took us a good five minutes to realize we were stuck, because we were in a deep conversation about the angelic looks of Tom Holland (stay on topic, Beth...). But when we did, full panic followed. Who's worse nightmare...

how i got detention for the first time

" Hi, I'm Bethany Rogers and YOU'RE watching Disney Channel!"
Did I sneak into the school's office, and use that announcer thing (Goggle: it's called a PA system, idiot) to say this phrase?
This phrase I have always dreamed of saying?
This phrase that was heard all over the school, 
this phrase I said with a giggling friend group in the background?
Perhaps I did.
And I don't regret a thing.
.... until my mom gets that inevitable phone call, then I'll be running away to Guatemala.
 

am i the only one who hangs with the dog at a party?

The music is so loud, that it's thumping inside of me. If that's a thing.
I'm at Jax's, and I'm tired, and why am I here? Why am I not in bed reading The Fault in Our Stars? Why is there a cola can in my hand instead of a pint of mint chip, slightly salty from tears because Oh my God, Augustus Waters has my heart.
Oh, right. My friends dragged me here. 
So I sit and talk and all that jazz, and I'm kind of bored and REALLY hungry. Suddenly, a little white puppy scurries down the stairs, and all my problems are solved.
No, I didn't EAT the puppy (dude, come on). But the boredom was solved- I literally just plopped down and played with the little thing, which is a shmootsi-caca-frappa-snoodle- doo or some other fancy breed. Before I could say that monster of a name, my whole friend group is just chilling on Jax's...

the wtw convention

I would walk in, and almost die.
Okay, not actually, but still!
There would be writers milling around, writers from all over the world, writers of different ethnicities and backgrounds.
We would all have those little " Hello My Name Is" stickers, with our usernames on them.
I would totally fangirl over my favorite writers (too many of them to list here, my dudes), ask for pictures and stuff. And if anyone would even say, " Hey, I like your writing!" to me, you know I would go all reality tv show with my ugly crying. There would be panels, were some of the lead writers on the platform would share tips and answer questions. 
Than Dmoral or sunny.v would walk in and we'd all faint in the presence of their amazing-ness (God, that's not even a word, is it?)
If only this was more than a fantasy...

 

Being Okay~ a historical fiction, chapter 2

Ohio- 1955
" Students, you may  take a break." Mr. Anderson wrapped up the class. Antsy from the long lesson, most students made their way outside, to the cool air of the courtyard. Ruth stayed in her seat. She wasn't interested in socializing- books were a lot more simple to understand than people. And a book never hurt anybody.
" Ruth..." Mr. Anderson called. Startled, she looked up from her schoolwork. " Ruth, go outside. Get fresh air. It's unseasonably warm for autumn." That was the thing about Mr. Anderson. He called the students by their first names, he talked to them. He cared. But all because someone seemed compassionate, doesn't mean they were. Ruth learned that at a very young age, henceforth deciding she could trust no one. Even the kind teacher, who tried to reach out to her multiple times.
No one. 
However, not the type to disobey, she got up and trudged outside with a " Yes,...

Being Okay~ a historical fiction novel, chapter 1

Greece - 1943
Run.
Sweat mingling with blood and tears.
Faster.
Little feet pounding in rhythm to an aching heart.
FASTER.
A blur of guns and grabbing and screams.
You weren't fast enough.
Ohio- 1955
" Ruth?" She was frozen, deafened. Lost in thought, it seemed.
" Ruth?" Brought back to reality by the deep voice of her teacher, Mr. Anderson. She swallowed shakily.
" Yes, Mr. Anderson."
" Who was the 15th president of the United States of America?"
" James Buchanan, sir."
Mr. Anderson smiled, as always.
" Correct... Moses, who was his vice president?"
Moses, a lanky young man, hesitated for a moment. Just enough of a pause for Amelia to cut in.
" Why would you ask him?" She sneered, curling her blonde hair around her forefinger. He blushed a deep red, as an acrid taste filled his mouth. He didn't like people like Amelia. The ones who scoffed at differences. Mr. Anderson scowled- a rare...

a conversation i really want to have with my math test

Test: Name these polygons.
Me: What am I supposed to say? Oh, this hexagon looks like a Kevin, and that rhombus is such a Dave!
Test: Using the Pythagorean Theorem, find the diameter of the missing axis.
Me: Hon, you lost me at "using".
Test: Carl is building a pool. The length is four feet, and it is six feet deep. What is the perimeter?
Me: Okay, Carl can go on Craig's List and find someone who is a builder or something, not ME, who is only skilled in persuading Netflix that yes, I am still watching. 

But seriously, Carl. Solve your own problems.
 

choo choo all aboard at procrastination station

Biology test tomorrow.
Gotta study.
But memes..
But WtW dashboard...
" I'll eat a cookie first. After all, I deserve it- i flipped through my notes for a whole two minutes."
Just one episode of The Office couldn't hurt
Just 10 episodes of The Office couldn't hurt
Wait, it's 1am?
The test is in seven hours??
Hm. Guess it's time to cram all known things of living organism into my fatigued brain, even though I'll forget it by tomorrow.

how the audition went

" Okay, Beth! You're up!"
I wobble to the stage.
Everyone is staring at me. Blergh. My no-nonsense drama teacher looks at me sternly.
" Omg is she crying?" Someone whispers.
" Omg she's crying!"
" For the love of God, I'M NOT CRYING!" *sniffs*
" Okay! Read this script, for Charalotte."
Someone shoves a paper into my sweaty hand. I'm reading with two other girls who are also auditioning. I get the smallest part.
Too soon, it's my turn.
" Line!"
"... Beth, you have the script."
" Oh um... *coughs* is that you, Timoth-"
" Alright, moving on!"
Wait... that's it?
Well, I have a feeling that I'm not going to get Charlotte...

 

im auditioning for the first time tomorrow

" Mandatory musical."
Two words that apart are, " okay, whatever." but together are, " holy cheese on a stick."
I don't act. Nor do I sing, or dance. I watch Parks and Recreation. That's my talent. 
My school is forcing us to make a musical, to " boost our confidence and spark new interests *gags*."
They are forcing us to get up onstage and perform an original musical that my principle wrote.
My principle.
Sure, I love watching musicals (cue Hamilton intro music). But I'm never going on a stage, in front of a bunch of moms, and acting and dancing and singing.
Anyone curious about what a dying cat in labor sounds like? Listen to my shower rendition of " This is Me".
Well, musical theater is my demise, I guess.


 

burnt tongues and betrayed souls

How dare you.
How dare you?
You had one job. To eat the ramen. That's all. But no. You just decide to be weak, to burn. You leave me here, with no taste and blinding pain. All because you can't handle a little heat?
As I chug the milk, I have a heavy heart.
You betrayed me, tongue.

jayden likes you guys~ a story my little brother wrote pt. 2

I read him the comments, his eyes wide, but not as big as his megawatt smile.
" Bethy, I love your friends!"
I laugh, because he's cute when he's happy. After a beat, he turns back to me tentatively.
" Bethy... can I be friends with them to?"
" Sure, little dude."
He looks away with a big grin.
" How many friends liked my story?"
" Um... twenty."
His blue eyes become even bigger, and his little jaw drops.
" Twenty?? That's like, more than ten!" The number is huge to him. I doabt he can even count to it- he always gets stuck after "eleventeen". 
" Wana write another?"
*******************************************************************************************************************************************************
 Once upon a time, Jeff le french fry was walking-
" Well more like hopping, because french fries don't have legs." Jayden looks at me seriously.
 Once upon a time, Jeff le french fry was hopping in the park. Suddenly, he heard something. It was evil Bobert the...

3 steps to take when your favorite character is DEAD

1. pass the ice cream-
   If you want to cry, go for it. If you want to eat a pint of mint chip, be my guest. This may seem "silly" to some, but the death of a favorite character can really hurt. Like, hurt more than a stubbed toe (which is saying something). So, it's okay to be sad. 
2. *sobs in fangirl*
    " A burden shared is a burden lightened" said some guy with probably a beard. Go to your friends, your online communities, people who are also sad about it. And talk to them about Tony Star- I mean, whatever character you're sad about. 
3. *inhales deeply*
    Go on to the next thing you wanna stan. You can always look back and appreciate the character. 

but seriously pass the mint chip 

a story my little brother wrote

" Bethy, can you put my story on the com- pooter for all your friends to see?"
I look up from by phone, surprised. 
" Jayden, you won't me to post something you wrote?" 
He nods, blonde curls bouncing.
My little potato heart bursts with pride. Aw, my little (yet extremely annoying) writer!
*******************************************************************************************************************************************************
Once upon a time, there was a turtle-
" No." Jayden suddenly proclaims. " Actually, change it to a french fry."
" Um... okay?"
Once upon a time, there was a french fry. It's name was Jeff. Jeff le french fry went to the store, and got some frech fries to eat.
" Um, no offense little dude, but that seems kinda wrong. What if he ate some ice cream instead?"
Jeff le french fry went to the store, and got some ice cram to eat. It was mint chocolate chip. As he was eating, suddenly-
Jayden frowns. " I don't know what should happen next..." ...

your brain, test edition

You: *opens  Spanish test, looks at first question* Okay brain, we've got this. We studied, right?
Brain: Yeah so much!
You: So what's the answer?
Brain: ... lol I don't know.
You: * sighs* Ok, could you just focus?
Brain: *singing random song that is so annoying yet so catchy*
You: *tries so hard not to hum* Could you just focus? This is important!
Brain: Y'know what's important? What's the name of that random actor in that movie you watched like 5 years ago?
You: *bothered immensely that you can't remember the name, ruining your concentration. You hand in the test, knowing you didn't do great* Thanks a lot, brain...
Brain: No problemo, seniorita.
You: Seriously?!
 

salad eating (POV: the vegetables)

Sweet Potato: No... no- is that what I think it is?
Asparagus: No! It's the iron, three- pronged death!
Lettuce: Everyone, RUN! 
*realizes that they don't have legs to escape*
Sweet Potato: Guys, this is the end...
Asparagus: *gets stabbed by fork* Blergh... tell my mother I love her!
Lettuce: NO, they took Carl!
*******************************************************************************************************************************************************
" Hey, how's your salad?"
"... meh, I'm not the biggest fan of asparagus."





 

if people were fruit (i bet you read that backwords)

This was a random conversation we had in English class when learning about personification.
" I would be cold pizza, because a decent amount of people like me, but I'm not hot." Abby says, and we all laugh.
" I would be a banana, because you've gotta peel back my outer shell to get to know me." Adds Clara shyly.
We're quiet.
" God, Clara. You've always got to make things deep." Tilly teases good naturally. 
" I would be dark chocolate, because I'm bitter and... well... dark." Celine says. I laugh, but lightly, because Celine low-key scares me. 
" What about you, Beth?"
" A chicken nugget. Because, well... chicken nuggets."

80

" What is LXXX the roman numeral for?" The teacher asked the class.
" 12."
" 789,564,986."
" Purple."
" Abraham Lincoln."
The teacher sighs wearily, wondering what she's doing with her life.
" No, it's 80."
 

the time i almost got arrested ft. tom holland

It started out innocent.
My friend David and I were craving some froyo, because duh. We ran away from our Hamlet homework, and his older sister drove us to our favorite froyo place.
The froyo place is on a kinda sketchy road of little stores. But whatever, who's not willing to put their life on the line for chocolate frozen yogurt?
We ate and had fun, but when we were leaving I couldn't find a trash can in the store because I'm dumb. So David and I walked a little down the block, while his sister waited in the car. We found a trash can after walking for some time, until...
" Excuse me, ma'am?"
I turned around, totally confused because I'm 15 and have never been called ma'am before. There stood a seriously seven foot tall man in all black. 
" Um, yes sir?"
"This area is closed to passerby." He grunted.
" But I just need a trash...

i'm trying my hand at the poetry a lot of people seem to like

i.
fingers idle over the key board~ aching for the written word~ once upon a time is too cliche~ but it's not like you're unique.
sitting~
waiting...
the screen is perpetually blank.
your mind is perpetually blank-
they say mimicry is the best form of flattery- or is it mockery?- perhaps you should change your writing- perhaps poems of celestial beings will catch the cynic's eye- or enhance it?
ii.
fingers idle over the keyboard- bleeding the written word- dancing across the lifeless piece of machinery- making something new.
or is it something old- just repurposed- because sad existential poetry will forever catch the cynic's eye.

 

Historical Fiction Competition 2020

The Dandelion Queen

Berlin, Germany- 1932
  “Dandelions are not flowers, they are weeds.” Kirk protested angrily for the third time. Ruth rolled her dark brown eyes with a sigh.
  “Kirk,” she stated, in the tone of a mother who had run out of patience- far beyond the maturity of the ten year old she was. “I don’t care if dandelions are weeds. I think they are beautiful, and should be considered flowers.” Kirk ran his hands through his blonde hair, agitated.
  “Ruth, that’s not-”
  “Children, that’s enough.” Mrs. Harken cut in weakly. Ruth sat back as satisfaction shone in her eyes. She had gotten the last word of the argument. Mrs. Harken, the kindly old teacher, had read the class a poem about a girl who had picked roses for her mother. At the end of the poem, she had asked the innocent question- “What is your favorite flower?”. True to form, Ruth answered the unconventional which, as always, irked Kirk. 
  Another boy...

a video diary at the peak of the pandemic

At the peak of the pandemic, my English teacher gave us an assignment. Once a week, we had to film a video diary about what was going on. 
Here's how the first one went down.


Darkness; shakily, the video begins, revealing a blonde teen wearing an over sized sweater and frazzled expression. 
She yawns.
 
" Um. Hi. So, it's day 12 of quarantine. Feels like day 12,000."
She sighs.
" I guess I should talk about my feelings, or whatever... I think it's my fourth day wearing this sweater."
A shoe flies across the screen, hitting the subject of the video in the nose. 
" Jayden, what on ear-"
A grapefruit flies across the screen, hitting the subject of the video in the left eye. She yelps.
" OWWW!"
Boyish chuckles are heard in the background. 
" What, scared of fruit that's too big for it's name, Bethy?"
" Todd, stop egging on the triplet's behavior! And call...

geometry needs to go far, far away

Torture
tor·ture
noun
definition: geometry

Shapes. Shapes. Shapes.
Why are they so important?
With your dumb lines and rays.
It all looks like hieroglyphics. 
Geometry, you should know...
I hate you so.
 

perpetual exhaustion

" Are you okay?"
" Um... yeah, just tired."
" What time did you go to bed last night?"
" 3am."
**************************************************************************************************************************************************
" Are you okay?"
" Um... yeah, just tired."
" What time did you go to bed last night?"
" 9:30pm..."
That same scenario plays out over and over... no matter what time you decide to finally close your laptop. No matter how many cups of coffee, no matter how many impromptu naps. 
It seems that teenagers do have a constant companion- tiredness. 
 

if school subjects were teenagers- part 1

English/Literature- She would have a long, red braid coming over her shoulder. She would be the one always day dreaming, a smile on her freckled- covered face. She would wear flowy sundresses, and be everyone's best friend.
Math- He would wear all black and listen to classical music. He's mad at his parents, and takes it out on anyone in a 10-mile radius. He's a closed book, and is hard to understand.
History- They have it all together on the outside; sweater vests, polite smiles, straight A's. Deep down however, they love to listen to punk rock and write angsty poems.  
 

a fangirl in the wild

We now see the fangirl in their natural habitat. As you can see, fangirls are a herd species, so you never see one alone. They communicate in incoherent shrieks and words spoken too fast- but they understand each other. The fangirl gets overly attached to things in their surroundings. Furthermore, if you disagree with the fangirl, they will unleash their natural defense mechanism- "sources" brought from random YouTube videos about their fandom. If you insult their favorite character, they will attack.
What a majestic species.

if my life was a movie

It would be rated PG, for mild rude humor and theatrical elements. 
It could be considered a romantic comedy, minus the romance, because I'm a hopeless romantic.
Except in geometry class. Than it would be considered a horror movie.
I'd want the credits to roll to some super cool rock song, but they'd probably roll to a super cheesy pop one instead.
Coming to theaters near you when the apocalypse ends.

history class, hot dogs, and hamilton (as in, the musical)

My teacher walks in, rubbing his temples. Something worrisome is on his mind. This, in turn, makes me worried because he's my favorite teacher and like, please don't die on me.
My history teacher, Mr. Embers, is 24 years old. He tells us all the time about how he has no idea what he's doing with his life. Also, that his only significant others are his elderly beagle and those little hot dogs wrapped in dough. But yet, he is an amazing teacher.
You've gotta love him.
Anyway, as we all settled in to our desks, he sighed. Long, and hard. 
" Okay, students! Today, we are learning about someone important in American history. I want everyone to remain quiet and respectful, per usual. This is history, not a musical."
Intrigued silence.
" We are learning about *winces*... Alexander Hamilton."
" Alexander Hamilton." Amy is the first to rise.
" No-"
" My name is Alexander Hamilton." Joins Della.
"...

my life but its one of those summaries on the back of a book

Beth Rogers was just your average teenage girl, until...
Nope, just average.
But that doesn't mean its easy! 
Our heroine tries desperately to juggle school and a social life. All the while, she must protect her self from the deadly apocalypse
As she wades threw sophomore year and a nonexistent love life, will she come out victorious?
Or at least... alive?
Read on to find out.

 

what it's like to go to an all girls private school

No boys.
Zero.
Obviously, that doesn't mean we don't talk about boys. The ones in our neighborhoods, summer camps...

Class disruptions are mostly just giggles and whispering.
I have no one to impress, so I don't get all dressed up for school. There is, however, TONSSS of drama, because we are all teenage, sleep deprived, hungry girls.

The hallways always smell like Bath and Body Works hand creams. There's unspoken contests on who brings the best looking salad.

But you've got to love it.

if peeta met peter

Peter: Hi, I'm Spi- er, Peter Parker! *laughs awkwardly*
Peeta: *smiles charmingly* Um, hi Peter, I'm Peeta!
Peter: Woah, like that type of bread wrap thingy?
Peeta: I do like to bake, but my name isn't-
Peter: So we basically have the same name! So cool!
*little bit of awkward silence*
Peeta: *clears throat* So... what do you like to do?
Peter: Um, I like Star Wars. Oh, and I save the world and stuff. I can do some pretty cool stuff, like back flips or whatever.
Peeta: Really? Same! I mean, I helped bring down the Capitol... As for back flips, I can't really do those.
Peter: *all innocent* why?
Peeta: I have a, um, prosthetic leg.
Peter: Oh... my friend Bucky has a prosthetic arm! It's just also a deadly weapon though...
Peeta: Well, I better run. My bread is catching fire.
Peter: Alright, nice meeting you Mr. Peeta!
 

goodnight, stuff | my take on the children's book goodnight, moon

goodnight, stuff
goodnight, The Office- I think I've had enough.
goodnight, laptop
goodnight, online Etsy shoppe.
goodnight, Whatsapp chat titled "The Squad",
goodnight to even Todd.
goodnight, Netflix
goodnight, Chex Mix.
goodnight to the half drunken water bottle that is forever on my night stand.
goodnight to all the potatoes in the land.


 

how to have a morning routine

6:45- Get woken up by that darn alarm, flip over for five more minutes...
7:30- Well, 5 turned to 45. Wonderful. You panic a little, wondering if it was just time travel, and than hop out of bed. Why can't the minutes go by this fast in class?
7:35- Brush teeth, wash face, pack a lunch... oops, you forgot to get dressed. Go do that.
7:45- Breakfast- most important meal of the day! Eat something healthy! You think this as you grab a juice box...
7:55- Running to your bus stop like a madman. You catch it, realizing you forgot your notebook- and you're wearing your mother's shoes. You decide that you must wake up early tomorrow, so you'll have more time.
Like, at 6:45.
 

life with a laugh track

Your crush: Hey
You: HEYYOO *awkward finger guns, leans against non existent wall* 
LAUGH TRACK PLAYS
You redden, mortified. 
But there's nothing you can do. The artificial laughs are just part of life.

Waiter: Enjoy your food!
You: Thanks, you too!
LAUGH TRACK PLAYS
You wish you could vanish. The fake roar of laughter just adds to your humiliation.

Person: Hey!
You: Hey, how are you?
Person: Good, how are you?
You: Fine, how are you?
LAUGH TRACK PLAYS
You hate how it highlights your awkwardness.
If only life didn't have a laugh track.

 

what school is like in person post carona if you were wondering lol

School was weird today.
No, it wasn't because it was my sophomore year.
It was because I had to wear this mask. That was so utterly uncomfortable, and the school says it's the only type we are allowed to wear because it "matches our uniforms".
Ugh.
There honestly wasn't social distancing. Which I guess is fine, because we were all (painfully) masked? 
However, there was a strict rule that we weren't allowed to touch each other.
I'm not a hugger, but I at least want to awkwardly one arm hug my friends after not seeing them for five months!
Most classes were outside, as well as lunch, which was the only time social distancing was enforced. Because you can't eat with a mask- unless...
We also had to get these weird leg attachment that work as lap desks when we're outside. Again, super uncomfortable.
Anyway, I'm just happy to be out of the house (I admit, I miss netflix, though....

screaming at the screen

I can't stand horror movies.
No, it's not because I'm a chicken. It's because the characters in them make me want to scream- not out of fear, but because of their decision making.
For example, when they enter a house that is clearly haunted/occupied by a murderer, they always call out 'hello'.
What on earth are they expecting? For the murder to be like, " Hey, I'm in the kitchen, makin' some ramen. What some, bud?"
No. This gives them away, so of coarse they get into trouble.
Then there's the 'splitting up' nonsense. Hello, strength in numbers! I'm not surprised when half the characters get eaten. 
Why, horror movie characters... why?

tomorrows my first day of 10th grade and i'm not sure how i feel

I'm supposed to be excited. Don't get me wrong- I am. I can't wait to see my friends, and get out of the house after months in quarantine. 
But I'm... scared?
I think.

I mean, 10th grade. That's big. And in only two years, it'll all be over. Than college, and marriage, and all those other terrifying things. But I'm getting ahead of my self (even though all those teachers preach planning for the future). 

10th grade. Not the awkward freshman anymore. I'm supposed to be familiar with high school- but it still feels so new. 
What if geometry gets me this time, and I fail? I wouldn't be surprised... What if the Vans I got are out of style?

Than there's the social scene. Thank the lord that I have a good group of friends- but still. I feel like I lost all my social skills over quarantine. Sure, I can name you every romantic comedy on Netflix now-...

life needs subtitles

     Subtitles in everyday conversations would make my life so much easier. Partly due to the fact that 99.9% of the time I can't hear a thing anyone is saying. So I just smile and nod awkwardly, but what if they ask me a question that warrants a real answer? I'm stuck. 
     Also, it can make understanding people way easier. I especially can never tell when people are being sarcastic. But what if a little bubble appeared over them, reading: *says sarcastically*. Less work for me! You don't have to make assumptions of how someone felt about/meant something. You'd be told by the subtitles. 
    If some genius out there invent subtitles for life, please let me know. I'll literally pay you... in cheezits though, since I'm sorta broke. 
 

the power of context

You know when you say something and you realize that without context, that sentence would be so utterly weird and confusing?
Some examples from my personal life:

  • " I'll get you the flamingo by Tuesday..."
  • " Sir, please DROP the empanada and step awaaaay from the rocking horse." 
  • " Omygod PATRICIA! How many times do I have to tell you that orange Silly String isn't cheddar flavored?"
From these sentences, one can think that I'm a dealer of exotic birds. Or a police officer that was saving a toy horse from being threatened by Mexican food. Or, a tired babysitter who doesn't want the kid they're watching to drop dead from eating Silly String. 
Turns out, with a bit more context, these are ALL sentences I said while babysitting kids. So no, I'm not a protector of rocking horses or have a secret zoo of flamingos. Just a teen that's run ragged by too many kids I babysit. 
Moral of the story:...

loki isn't a bad guy

Okay, if you aren't a Marvel fan, stop right there. I love you, but go watch The Umbrella Academy or something.
... Are they gone?
Okay. LOKI ISN'T BAD. Before you all jump on me, let me explain myself. 
He's simply a moody guy with major family drama. He was lied to his whole life, and then his dad is just like, " Hey fake son, you're a blue goblin and you're lucky I didn't let you die."
After this bombshell is dropped and Loki is shook and having an identity crisis, Odin just FALLS ASLEEP. I can write a novel on how bad a parent Odin is. He's forever putting down Loki and sometimes Thor. 
Also, all his life, Loki had to live in Thor's shadow. Thor, his brother who was dumb, rash, and a lot more good looking than him. That would make anyone mad. And then, even though Loki's smarter and more articulate... THOR GETS THE THROWN? ...

this will be the worst work of literature you have ever read

That caught your attention, didn't it?
Although it's a curious thing that you'd be drawn to something that claims to be awful.
Hm. The power of a title. 

a dictionary of the different types of laughs

BAHAHAHA *tears, stomach hurts*- reserved for your friends, and maybe a trustworthy sibling who won't tell the world you laugh like a dying sheep when somethings is super funny.
pft hee hee *snort*- when your crush says something cute, so you try to have a cute laugh, but it sounds stupid because I'm stupid. 
eh heh heh- the polite one; reserved for your grandma, teachers,  and that one friend in your friend group that you're not really friends with
ha ha... *nervous chuckle*- the one for awkward situations; whether your math teacher started talking about their love life, your dad says an awful joke, or your grandma is telling an embarrassing story about your youth.  
MWAHAHA- can't have a laugh dictionary without the evil one. Use this when someone you love gets hurt in a comedic manner. 
ho ho ho- this is how santa, your grandpa, and also your principle laugh... but they can't all be the same person (unless...). ...

we all sing in the car there's no need to be ashamed

radio: " if you love me let me- "
me: " GOOOOOOOOOO! tHeSe wOrDs aRe- "
the person in the car next to me: *looks at me, confused and slightly frightened.They look away, clutching the steering wheel a little too tight*
 

blowing up my microwave: a harrowing tale of action, love, and murder

I'm innocent, I swear!
... except I'm not.
I blew up our microwave. I didn't mean to commit the crime! I just wanted a potato...
DATE: December 12, 2018     TIME: 6:07 PM          SCENE OF THE CRIME: Kitchen
It's dinner time and I'm hungry. Obviously, I opt for a baked potato, because who doesn't adore potatoes. Usually we bake ours in the oven, but like most impatient people (and politicians), I decided to nuke it instead. In my microwave, that is.

Big mistake.

I wrapped my potato in tin foil, like you do when you bake it. I popped it in the microwave, and went on to think about whatever one does in 2018. 
Before I could say "fidget spinner", sparks were flying and my potato was bluish purple with electricity. It than burst into flames.
I totally freaked out and my whole family came to the kitchen and everyone was screaming about the potato grenade....

a little sad story in case you want your heart crushed this fine morning

I went to my local, small tailoring shop this morning to get my uniforms altered, because school *shudders*. I went into the store, my mind on totally separate things (ex. netflix, shoes...). Suddenly, as the tailor was pinning my skirt, he began to cry.
" I lost her."
My mom, who's a therapist (which is a rant for a separate time), naturally asked what was wrong. The tailor cried more. 
" My partner, for 37 years, for this very shop. She died yesterday." Suddenly, it clicked. The 80 year old woman who would work by this tailors side for as long as I can remember.
" My only regret is that I didn't marry her. I never told her I loved her." He whispered, hot tears streaming out of his glassy blue eyes.
It is at that moment that my very soul shattered into a million pieces. This tailor, a man in his 90's. And he regrets that he never...

5 types of teachers on zoom

1. The Boomer-  The one who's a thousand years old, and doesn't know how to work zoom for the life of them. They're screen and microphone get turned off at random times, and they're always muttering about the horror of " new fangled technology". You can also only see their forehead. 
2. " I'm a cool mom- er, teacher"- The one who has Venus as their background, and talks about the pandemic and " how you guys are handling it", even though they teach geometry. They also have their pet dog chilling on their lap, and they let you eat during the class. 
3. Mr. Techy- They use the breakout rooms, shares their screen, makes you raise your hand digitally through Zoom, and wears a full blown headset.
4. The Frazzled- They have their kids running everywhere, and their background is their insanely messy basement. 
5. The Professor- They sorta forgot that we're in the middle of a freaking PANDEMIC,...

the kid i babysit has a lot of questions

" Is spray cheese just orange whip cream?"
" Is God really real?"
" Is lasagna a type of cake?"
" Are spiders afraid of us?"
Um... sorry kid, but I don't know. I would say you'll know when you're older- but I don't know if you will.



 

ten types of students on zoom

1. The Preppy One- They dress in sweater vests and collard shirts, come to the meeting 5 minutes early, and have freaking Hogwarts in the background.
2. Sleeping Beauty- They come to the meeting 30 minutes late, in their pajamas. They're in their bed, and are sleeping for 90% of the class.
3. The Hunger Games- Eating the whole entire time, and not muting themselves so you hear their munches. They don't participate at all during the class.
4. The Doer- They don't sit down at all during the class- in one lesson, they'll be at the grocery, working out, at the pool, at their grandma's, and probably the moon at some point.
5. Family Issues- The one who forgets to mute themselves, so you hear their seven siblings fighting and the mom whacking them with a flip flop. 
6. Shrouded in Mystery- The one who you can barely see- just their creepy silhouette, and when they talk it gives...

seeing your teacher in public

Me: *at grocery store, picking up my hot pockets. Suddenly, history teacher pops outta nowhere*
Me: Oh no not today *ducks behind pineapples*
Teacher: Miss Rogers, you know I can see you...
Me: *stands up, chuckles nervously* Oh, hi Mrs. Roberts! I was just... erm... looking for my pineapple.
Teacher: *raises overly penciled in eyebrow* Really...
Grandma (I came to the store with her): Ohhh you're Mrs. Roberts! How nice to meet the teacher of my Bethy Boo-Boo Bear!
Me: *redder than a tomato* GRANDMA...
Teacher: *smirks* Yes, it's nice to meet you, too.
Me: *forced smile* Okay, bye!
Grandma: *strikes up conversation about me, ranging from my first birthday to the cold I had last week*
Me: *cringes*
Teacher: You know, Beth talks a little too much during class with her peers...
Grandma: *pinches my cheek* Oh, Bethy... 
Me: Alright we need to go NOW.

(I never went back to that grocery store again)

nostalgia

a list of things that make me feel nostalgic because I have nothing better to do:
1. Red, white, and blue popsicles- you know, the ones with the joke on the stick that you would read to your brother with a purple tongue. 
2. Smell of crayons- a classic, but if this doesn't smell like the second day of first grade, than I don't know what does. 
3. Kraft mac n' cheese- growing up, having this dish that's an unnatural and slightly alarming shade of orange was just heaven.
4. Slip 'n Slides- a summer staple; although I'm not gonna lie, the slipping part really hurt

stay tuned for a part two!

why do they blame everything on phones

me: *fails a test, gets sick, gets in a fight, stubs toe, burns toast, is late to school or literally anything else mildly inconvenient happens*
grandpa: it happened because you're on your phone too much 
 

that chair in my room that looks like a murderer in middle of the night

So. We meet again. It's 3am. For some reason, I wake up, startled. And than I see you. You, piled high with clothes that are too clean for the laundry but too dirty for the closet. I mean, I know you're just a chair. But in the dead of night, with the shadows and darkness- you look terrifying. But you can't hurt me... that's just silly. Right?

i'm saving the human race by binge watching netflix

Am I the only one who imagined the apocalypse different? I thought I'd be like a character in a dystopian future novel/film. Wearing ragged, dark clothes, with a super cool haircut, constantly running and fighting off zombies. Instead, all I have to do to protect the human race is stay home. So, as I binge watch and eat my ice cream, I'm honestly impressed that I can save the world in such comfort- and so can you!

when your feet fall asleep if that's a thing

You know when you've been sitting on the couch for forever and than your feet go completely numb? So you're just like, okay I live here now. Someone pass the oreos.
Alright, thanks for your time XD 

hunting down tom holland and other fun pass times

" HE'S HERE?!"
" YES. He's in a film they're making next to Target."
I was going to find him. And I was going to get a picture with him, if it was the last. Thing. I do. 
Right after school, a couple of friends and I ran like headless chickens to my house. 
MOMMMMM!"
" My day was just magical, thanks for asking. What's wrong?"
" I- I need something of utmost importance from Target *pant pant*. Can you take me and my friends. PLEASE."
" Um... sure."
As soon as we drove up to Target, my friends and I (mwahaha good grammer) jumped out of the car. We ran inside, and I grabbed the first object I saw, which happened to be cheetos, but I didn't care. I was seeking information, not an object.
We reached the check out counter... which was being run by a 97 year old women.
" Um, excuse me ma'am. Do you...

vegetarian chilli and other sins against humanity

so I decided to compile a list of foods that should not exist because why not
1. vegetarian chilli: false advertising. I'm sorry, but chilli isn't chilli without that rich, meaty flavor. This is just vegetable soup. 
2. mint and orange ice cream: so Ben and Jerry's makes this, trying to replicate the taste you get when drinking orange juice after brushing your teeth. It's the stuff of nightmares. 
3. gluten free english muffins: they're as hard as a rock on the outside and soggy in the inside *shudders*.
well, that's all for now folks

the biggest scam in marketing

 2-in-1 shampoo and conditioner for girls.
It's a trap. It's just regular shampoo, maybe a little more oily. It messes up your hair. Just use the separate bottles.
And it's kinds annoying because boys' shampoo is like 7-in-1: shampoo, conditioner, face wash, body wash, deodorizer, hair gel, and I bet it can be used as toilet bowl cleaner and salad dressing, too.
But girls... our 2-in-1 doesn't even work.

that one friend who needs to learn how to whisper

" *whispering* he's kinda cute..."
" OMY GOD YOU THINK HE'S CUTE???"
*inhales sharply and is ready to disappear*

when your favorite character dies

To: The fictional character I'm emotionally over attached to
From: Me

So. I've been through it all with you. Reading every page, watching every scene with wide, intent eyes. I was there at your lowest and highest points. Right by your side throughout the climax. I screamed at the pages/screen when you made dumb decisions (earning confused looks from friends and family). I applauded you when you did the right thing. I laughed at you, and cried with you. 
And than you think you can just die on me?
Who do you think you are? This is the repayment I got for years of loyalty?
You just die?
I know you aren't real (erm... no offense), but for some reason, when you died, I was sad.
Like, really sad.
Like, crying-into-an-ice cream-tub sad.
And I'm angry at you for dying, as silly as it sounds. Why did you have to put an end to something so good? Most of all......

the worst pain of all

It's worse than stubbing your toe and heartbreak combined. It's when you are watching something on your phone while lying down. And than you drop your phone on your face. It hurts, and feels like a betrayal of sorts. 
It's the worst. Thank you for your time.

it's over, math

Dear Math,
No offense, but I think it's time to go our separate ways. It's not me, it's you. 
First off, you're way to needy. Always asking me to solve your problems. You're to pushy, too- you need to stop asking so many questions. However hard I try, I just can't understand you. As if that's not enough, you started hanging out with the alphabet, making our relationship even more confusing. I'm sorry... but I can't go on like this.
We're through. 
Sincerely, 
Me

trust issues

You won't have to remember this password. Chrome will save it for you. 
No offense, Chrome, but how can I know that I can trust you? What will you do with this password that even I can't remember (partly because I have the memory capacity of a gold fish). What if you forget the password? This password you suggest me to use, that's so long and complicated that it looks like an angry keyboard smash. But apparently, that makes it stronger. But I don't care. I'd rather have my password be chicken_nuggets or 1234. Because that way, the only person who is taking care of it is me.
And I can trust me. 

why does it hurt so much??

" So. This is the end. This is what true pain is. It's all over. *sniffs, looks away, and sighs* Tell my mother I love her. Tell my story..."
" You only stubbed your toe. You'll live!"

a conversation i tried to have with my crush

Him: hey
Me: ergh... good morning (i say this even though it's 4pm)
Him: *laughs dreamily* so, whats up?
Me: *becomes flustered, so for some reason becomes logical* the ceiling 
Him: um, okay... *tries to start coherent conversation* algebra class was crazy...
Me: so crazy.
Him: hey, I saw the picture you're making in art- it was pretty awesome...
Me: you're awesome
Him: what?
Me: what?
Him: well, maybe i'll see you tomorrow night? ...a couple of us are going to the movies.
Me: sounds like a date! but not like a real date, because... well, you know what I mean. I mean, it could-
Him: sounds good!
Me: yup! *he walks away, and this whole interaction leaves me mentally face palming the rest of the day*

Be the Fruit Loop in a World of Cheerios

My family was debating which breakfast cereal is best.
" Obviously, it's Lucky Charms. They come with marshmallows." Said my little sister passionately. 
" No, it's Cocoa Puffs. You know what you get when you mix them with milk? Chocolate milk. And there are fewer worldly pleasures known to humans than chocolate milk." I argued.
" Children, children... the best is obviously Raisin Bran." Said Todd. Wait... Todd?!
" Todd, why are you even here? It's eight in the morning."
He took a big bite of bran and stared at me like I was an alien or something.
" Beth, why are you here?"
" Oh, I don't know... maybe because- I live here. Anyway, Cocoa Puffs are the best."
" No, Lucky Charms! THEY'RE MAGICALLY DELICIOUS *throws chair*!!" 
" No, Raisin Bran!"
Bowls were overturned. Spoons were thrown. It wasn't pretty... but what war is?
In the end, I had to take a new bowl of cereal, because...

The (Un)Offical WtW Comment Dictionary: Part 2

i.
hjvdfyvuyjthyguf 
noun
synonyms: a keyboard smash
definition: when a piece leaves you so speechless by it's emotion/humor/wording, all you can do is aggressively smash your keyboard. 


ii.
:O
I really don't know what category facial expressions fall into...
definition: when a piece leaves you completely shook by it's beauty

iii.
*claps*
verb
definition: appropriate for use to congratulate someone on a follower/writing milestone. Also, when a piece is really good but you're too sophisticated to keyboard smash, you can do this.

Hot Dogs: Their True Identity *see footnote*

Hot dogs. They aren't sandwiches.
In fact, they are... tacos.
*drops mic* 
 

When Life Gives You Lemons

" When life gives you lemons, make lemonade. That's what they always say. Did you know that actually life never gave us lemons? Farmers bred them from bitter oranges and citrons. If life never gave us lemons, what does that quote mean? Does it mean we breed our own problems? That we are the creators, so we are the only ones who can solve them?"

 " Beth, stop over thinking it and drink the stupid lemonade."

The (Un)Official WtW Comment Dictionary

i.
*chef's kiss*
verb
definition: when someone's work/wording is just so deliciously perfect, you just can't help but say mwah


ii.
*throws confetti*
verb
definition: when there is cause for celebration- a new member, a milestone with followers. 
honestly, just having WtW exist is cause for celebration.


iii.
XD
noun?
definition: used when someones work makes you laugh, so you promptly die, therefore the x-ed eyes.

iii.
>3
guess this is a noun, too
definition: when you fall in love with a piece, so you give it a kiss

Stay tuned for a part 2!



 

when you and your friends are a part of different fandoms

Before the world became apocalyptic, my friends and I would meet up for a movie once a week. 
This is usually how it went down:
" Okay guys. We have the popcorn. The oreos. Coffee. Chocolate milk for Beth. Now... what shall we watch?" There is a contemplative silence.
" How about something Marvel?" Claire offers.
" Yesss." I agree, because we absolutely stan.
" Nooo." Emily disagrees, because apparently she doesn't stan.
" I agree. Marvel is too confusing." Says Ruth. Claire and I just stare at her, shocked by how nonchalant she is while insulting a cinematic masterpiece. 
More silence and crunching sounds.
" How about a Harry Potter movie?" David breaks the silence.
" Yesss." I exclaim, because I stan a lot of things a little too much.
" No." Says Emily. " I'm not into the magic and stuff." Ruth nods a long, and David looks at his coffee dejectedly.
" What about one of the...

Gourmet Chicken Nuggets

"Anyone can cook"
Said the chef in that Disney movie with the talking rat. 
However, this statement is a blatant lie.
I am someone, and I can't cook. 
I mean, I try. Really hard. I'll try to make some fancy dinner. I'll give an unassuming relative a heaping plate full of my creation. They taste it, and smile and nod, even though there are obvious tears in their eyes and they gag a little later, rather audibly.  
But I don't give up. I want to make something so scrumptious and gorgeous, Food Network hosts envy me. 
So one day, I decided to put my culinary abilities to the test (again). 
I threw a little bit of this and some of that in a pot. I fired up the microwave.
One hour of blood, sweat and tears later, I presented my family with my masterpiece. 
" It's a tender chicken cutlet, encased in finely ground, golden crumbs. On the side, there...

So I Went To A Zoom Wedding

My cousin (no, not Todd) got married last night, via zoom- because, well, carona. 
It was a pretty cool experience.
My family made some popcorn and signed into the meeting. All my relatives were on- some of which were dressed as if they were actually at a wedding. That kinda made me feel awkward in my Shawn Mendes merch and jeans, but whatever- I always wanted to wear jeans to a wedding. 
The couple had the wedding in a backyard- just them and the person who said the vows and stuff.
As they said the vows, of course I cried because I'm an overly emotional potato and am constantly sleep deprived. I must admit, I am also a bit of a hopeless romantic. 
After they were married, we all danced and it was pretty cool. 
It's pretty awesome that in the midst of, well, the apocalypes- something as beautiful as a wedding took place. 
 

Synapses

All You Need To Know: My Prompt

Getting to know you through your history
Genre: Poetry
A person's internet search history can really showcase a lot about them. Their passions, their interests. The Write the World community wants to get to know you!
For this prompt, choose 3-5 of your recent internet searches that you feel represent you well. Then, make it into a poem!
It can rhyme or be free verse, you decide.
Happy writing!

me trying to explain WtW to my family

Me: So I joined this really awesome writing community
Dad: That's nice, honey
Mom: Writing? So it's like a school thing?
Me: No... I do it for fun.
Todd (my older cousin who for some reason is always at my house): Writing for fun?! I knew you where weird, but not that weird.
Me: Go home, Todd. 
Mom: So, are your friends from school on this website?
Me: No, none of my friends are into writing, but I made new ones through this community!
Little Sister: You can't be friends with people you never met.
Me: Child, that is false.
*SILENCE AND ANGRY GLARES FROM LITTLE SISTER*
Me: I can't believe it, but 19 amazing, awesome, supportive, talented people followed me.
Mom: That's great, sweetie!
Dad: That's nice, honey
Todd: Why would anyone-
Me: Todd, please.
Me: Anyway, I really like it. Everyone is so nice and welcoming... it feels like ho- 
Todd: Can someone pass the ketchup?


 

Commitment Isssues

I need relationship advice.
The other day, I was watching Netflix (as always). Suddenly, it asked if I was still watching. Angered, I replied,
" How dare you question my commitment! I will always love you!" 
It didn't answer, and now I'm afraid I overreacted.
What should I do?

Coffee, Mortals, and Individuality

I don't like coffee.
Okay, before you all jump on me, let me explain myself. I don't like coffee because it's bitter, and I think I also might be allergic to it because I always get itchy after a sip.
Which is kind of sad, because I am constantly sleep deprived and could use a boost.
How did I come to the realization that I hate this drink?
About a year ago, one of my friends dragged me to Starbucks, because she thought it was crazy that I never tried coffee before. We got to the counter where you order what you want.
" Um... do you guys have... like, chocolate milk?" I asked hesitantly. My friend gave me a playful glare and turned to the barista.
" She was just joking..."
" But I actually really want a chocola-"
" We'll both have a mocha caramel iced latte frappe fra la la la bla bla bla... seven pumps of sugar."...

An Ode to Sophomores: The Middle child of Highschool

There's always movies and books about freshman year. You know the type- the awkward, nervous teen making their way threw the social hierarchy. 
Then there are all the films about seniors. The confident excited students who have graduation in sight. 
Juniors get a lot of attention too, as they and the seniors gear up for exams that define their future and may cause certain death (or so I've heard).
Well... what about us sophomores? Where's our TV series or book trilogy? Sure, we aren't new to high school. We aren't entering the world of adult life anytime soon, either.
But we still exist!
Let's face it- sophomores are the middle child of highschool. We work hard. We are underappreciated and not recognized for our efforts. 
That's one way to look it. On the other hand, being "the middle child" is an important role. Like, we are the cream of the Oreo (which is the best part, in my humble opinion)....

A Conversation I Had With My Best Friend At 3AM Last Night

Me: " I'm so tired."
Her: " Well, it is 3AM..."
Me: ...
Her: " I just finished Netflix."
Me: " Finished?"
Her: " Yes... ALL OF IT." *sniffs*
Me: " Honestly, that is extremely admirable."
Her: " Remember, you can't use big words when we talk at a time like this. It hurts my brain."
Me: ...
Her: " My mom is going to Queens tomorrow for business."
Me: "... Spiderman is from Queens."
Her: " Yes Beth, I know."
*SILENCE FOR A WHOLE 2 MINUTES*
Her: " Do you ever think about, like... life and stuff?"
Me: " All right I'm going to bed. I'll text you in like 3 hours."

 

Refuge

Refuge: A Definition

ref·uge
noun:
  • A supportive, awesome online community where you can write to your hearts content and be yourself
  • Escaping the pressure of everyday life by writing, and letting your imagination run wild
  • Being, creating, and doing whatever you please through writing
In conclusion, writing is refuge 

Writer's Block

The calamity all writers face at some point.
The niggling idea of a character,
that you just can't grasp.
Your plot wandering
with you having no idea which direction to lead it in.  
You're tired
frustrated
and you have a little bit of anger.
But you don't give up.
Such is the life of a writer.

Scrambled Eggs and Other Trivial Things I Think Too Deeply About

It's 9AM when I crack an egg into the old frying pan. As I watch it sizzle and crisp, I begin to think. Does the mother hen realize her egg was taken away from her? Was she anguished by this revelation? When I crack an egg, the shell shatters. Am I shattering a potential life, too? Perhaps shattering a mother hen's dreams? 
As I sit down to eat the egg, I come to the conclusion that I think too much. 

Flash Fiction Competition 2020

Silver

It was a hard year. Two of my grandparents- my role models, my heros- had died.
And it was only March.
That's why, when I was called out of class, I was shaking.  Not again. The secretary led me on an endless journey to the school's office. When we arrived, she handed me the phone.
“Your mother wants to speak to you.” 
I hesitated, trepidation clutching my throat. 
“Mom?” 
“Beth, dear, I’m at Nordstrom. They’re having a flash sale, and I found an ADORABLE jacket! Do you like silver or grey?”
I smiled, tears filling my eyes.
“Silver, please.”