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The Kidnapping Diaries: Ch 1July/25/2013
So, my name is Daniella, I was given this journal by my kidnapper, but in here he'll just be called you, this is my story, hopefully ill be able to escape, and don't worry I'll take this diary with me, I want to remember every detail when we're in the court room, deciding your verdict, anyway, I'll keep you informed as much as possible, here's what's happened so far,
It was supposed to just be a little hike through the woods, until I saw you. You followed me, over hills, around lakes and small waterfalls, past trail signs, and never falling behind my pace. I started to run, and you started too, still keeping up with me. I decided to sprint and try to loose you on an animal trail. Just as I attempted to sprint down the animal trail, you grabbed my shoulders and slammed me against a tall oak tree on the side of the path.
"Let me go!" I yelled at you. You stayed calm and whispered i
She Seemed UnbreakableThe Girl Who Seemed Unbreakable.. Broke
The Girl Who Seemed Strong.. Crumbled
The Girl Who Never Stopped Trying Finally.. Gave Up
She Dropped A Fake Smile as a Tear Ran Down Her Face and Whispered to Herself
I Can't Do This Anymore...
Wipe away the tears, head up, and fake a smile.
Crying will only show weakness.
A long day of school.
No tears today, made it through.
Turning the water on in the shower.
I'm bullet proof,
Nothing to loose,
Crying in the shower so no one will see the tears.
Stepping out and getting ready for bed.
Excited to get away from all of this and enter the world of sweet dreams
Wondering if this will be the routine until the sweet relief of death
Getting up, and walking over to the mirror
Warm tears running down cheeks
Wipe them away and fake a smile
Crying shows weakness
They cant know
Hanging by a thread that has snap
Flicker: Ch 1Light, oh, the sweet, beautiful, light. Her eyes finally opened, looking around the iron room, it all hit her fast, adoption, this room, put under. Now, she was waking up. She tried to move, but alas, it was in vain, she was still strapped down. Ember called out for help, over and over again and again. Finally a man walked in, she could remember that white lab coat anywhere. He told her to calm down, it would be ok, everything would be okay, it was all over.
The girl was confused. "Haha," said the man," well, Ember you along with 19 other children have been chosen to become extraordinary. My dear you all have been given a gift, err... power." "What?" said Ember," what do you mean?" "exactly that." said the man. "Wait", asked Ember," how old am I?" "You are now nine years old" he replied. "NINE!" exclaimed Ember," but I was seven like yesterday!" "You have been asleep for two years, Ember", said the man.
Flicker: Prologue20 orphans, no more, no less, between the ages of seven and nine, "adopted". Not by a warm loving family with a fuzzy pet and good night kisses to send a child into a world of dreams. Instead, taken to a place far, far away from civilization, to become extraordinary. One of these people were Ember, a girl the age of seven with brown, orange hair, a strange hazel and red eye color, and pale skin. She was taken into a room with iron walls, filled with equipment, viles filled with different colors of acid, tubes connecting different pieces of equipment, and a padded table with straps on its sides.
Little Ember was taken over to this table and told to lay down, and stay still, or there would be repercussions. Ember, not wanting to upset the two men holding her arms, walked over to the table, laid down, and watched as they strapped down her arms, torso, and legs. Then, she heard the door open and in walked a man wearing black kakis, a collared shirt, leat
This Cant Be Real - A zombie apacolipse story- Ch2The few people out on the side walks screamed in terror and fled into the shops lining
the road. There was a banging sound coming from the back of the bus. Autumn and the boy
with red hair ran to see what it was. There was a women, mid 30s yelling for help, the
zombies saw her and shambled slowly over to her. The woman screamed in terror and fell
to the ground. Autumn covered her mouth to keep from throwing up and felt tears form in
her eyes. The boy next to her had a similar reaction except with him there were no tears
and he looked more like he would throw up then cry.
After the zombies were done feasting on the woman they looked back at the bus. "Drive!",
yelled the old man she had seen read the news paper. The bus driver nodded and sped off,
infact he drove so fast that almost everyone fell down. Two of those were Autumn and the
red head. As she slipped backward he tried to catch her and that just ended with the two
Best Friends For Never-Ch1I woke up to the sound of my alarm clock playing Justin Bieber I screamed "AHHHHH!" and
quickly turned it off. My mother walked in my room and said "hey honey, its time to get
ready for your first day of high school!" Wait, the first day of high school! I
thought. Being my goofy self I dramatically fell onto my knees and screamed out "PORQUE!
WHY!" My mother just laughed and walked downstairs to make breakfast. I checked the
temperature on my phone, the high for the day was 60. Geez, its always cold here, I
thought to myself. I jumped into the shower and quickly rinsed my hair and body before
drying myself off with a towel.
My hair was brushed out and dried and I just let it hang loose at my shoulders. I put on
my favorite dark denim jeans, put on a t-shirt saying keep calm and defy gravity, a
Pokémon hoodie with all the starter Pokémon's on it, and my black high tops. "Breakfast
is ready!" called my mom. "Ok! I'
This Cant Be Real - A zombie apacolipse story- Ch1Gosh, moms going to kill me", thought Autumn as she ran through the ever darkening
streets. The mid-spring sun started to set over the horizon. She smelled the occasional
cherry blossom tree's fragrance through her burning lungs. Autumn had been running all
the way from her school in attempt to reach the normal bus she took home in time, but she
had been 3 minutes to late and missed it. She checked the next bus time at that stop but
it would be too late. Now she had resorted to running to her back up bus stop, she
didn't like this one due to the fact that on the way to her house from there included
crossing a long, tall, swaying bridge over looking a deep valley with a large river about
150 feet below.
As she neared the stop she felt her phone buzz in her pocket. The girl finished her
sprint and checked her phone. It was a text from her mom asking her where she was.
Autumn just replied that she had missed her usual bus and had to
InnocentMy only chance for freedom, I have to do this. The girl pulled her dark brown hair into a pony tail. She was to be taken out by a guard today, the teenager had been accused with witchcraft. Everyone thought she was evil, she felt tears form in her pale blue eyes. There was one guard, he had been sent to make sure she didn't use her "evil" powers to escape. Without using the "magic" she possessed, the girl had made him believe her.
Today, he was to take her into the center of the village to be burned at the stake. They had dressed her in a tattered white gown and gave her one white ribbon to tie back her mangled hair. The girl had found a shattered piece of glass in her cell, at first she used it for self harm. Now she used it as a looking glass so she could see herself when she felt lonely, it was like someone was with her.
"I hate this retched village, she muttered under her breath.
A few moments later she heard the lock of her cell door
Ambitions Ch:2-Ackward Moments and Exciting NewsLyra Pov
Lyra ran through the dim streets, it was 5 am and everyone was still sleeping. The slender girl stopped at Jules house and knocked on the door. She waited a minute until she heard the door open and saw a very tired Jules looking at her.
"Nice hair, "Lyra said," You gotta teach me your tips sometime."
Jules just glared before cracking a smile.
"What's so funny?" Lyra asked.
"You have 2 different shoes on."
"Huh?", Lyra looked down at her feet and Jules flicked her nose.
"Ow! not funny Jules! Stop cracking up!"
Lyra shoved Jules and he stumbled and fell down. He held his head in his arms and pretended to moan in pain. Lyra panicked and held out her hand to help him up. When he grabbed her hand he pulled her down and she fell on top of him, both teens blushed and saw each other do it.
"Let me up" Lyra said.
Jules blushed even harder when he realized he was holding Lyra's waist. When both were up Jules asked,
"Why did you need to tal
Theme Prompt - SoliloquyI was thinking about my poetry and some of the stories I’ve written and I realized something interesting. When I write, I bare a small piece of my soul and am usually speaking to someone in particular. At least when it comes to the poems that resonate the most with me when I re-read them. There are a few that I just have no feeling for at all and, if I didn’t know I wrote it, I wouldn’t attribute to myself.
I’ve written poetry to my father, my aunt, my grandmother, my ex, and my friends. Some with good intentions and feelings and some not so good. I’ve written alternately hopeful and sad, longing poems to a nebulous person that I hope to meet in the future. I’ve worked through my emotions for everyone and showed how I truly felt about them all. The gratitude and love for my friends, the sorrow and love for my family, and the love and, subsequently, anger and regret for my ex. Yet I’ve never really tried to work through my own feelings towards m
11.- La Niña Esperanzada:
Erase una niña, que siempre soño
con un amor. No era un principe azul, era mas bien alguien solitario que no brillaba fisicamente como en cuentos de hadas, el brillo de sus ojos era algo que muy pocos veian. Le puso nombre, rasgos y caracteristicas. Lo soño durante tantas noches, lo imagino durante tantos dias, que ella podia reconocerlo si se le apareciera. Dias pasan, años pasan, pero la esperanza no. En el decimotercer cumpleaños de la niña ella solo deseo, al soplar las velas, que su amado llegara. Su Tristan. Su Tristan de ojos azules y rizada cabellera castaña oscura. Porque sabia que el estaba ahi, viviendo con la luna y navegando con el mar. Dias pasan, años pasan, pero la esparanza no pasa. Cuatro años y la niña solo era niña en su interior, ahora era Elena y nadie ya le decia niña, mas alla de la seda y su maduro seno se encontraba un corazón, un coraz
Food allergies and a chicken boneBack when I was still not well and back when my mind was still poisoned I was sitting at one of the plastic tables in the main room. It was dinner time and I was all alone. Most of the other children had all gone down to the cafeteria. Unfortunately I had mentioned that I had a food allergy, so they made me stay there. I had even told them that pine nuts wouldn't be in anything that they would serve. But they wouldn't listen. They never did. So I just sat there in that dimly lit room staring down at my plate. A clump of chicken lay forlornly in front of me. I had tried to eat some of it, but it was terrible. Just as I had expected.
Eventually I got bored of just staring at my food, so I stuck my hand into the meat and fished out a bone. First I scraped all the bits of chicken still left on it. Then I rubbed it against my shirt until it almost shone. I was so strangely fixated with this bone that I decided to bring it back to my room with me. But that was going to be difficult. There wa
Undefeated Air squeezes itself down her throat and into her lungs before bursting back out. “Push it, push it!” She’s just breathing. Surviving. Running a suicide. Her feet slide past the free throw line and she taps it with her hand, her knees collapsing below her and her back arching above before she springs upward again in order to run in the opposite direction.
Coach Monaco fancies making her and the basketball team run “suicides.” He established this back in November on his very first day coaching these girls. It was purely nervous energy that carried her through each one. She has a tremendous supply of that. Why wouldn’t she? It’s not like she ever knows what she’s doing.
Do you know what a suicide is? Perhaps you should consider yourself lucky if you don't,
Once NecessaryFrom a young age, she always looked the same. A tangled mass of blonde, hazel eyes glued to the print of a story. She was once asked why she was always reading and the answer was simple. Print was easier then People.
She learned in a hard way to hide her legs. Dead and dried skin cracked it's way along her calves and shins, stopping at her dried knees, only to turn into Braille on her thighs. Jeans turned into necessity and the skirts and dresses she loved were pushed to the side and she forgot that she even liked them.
The calming effect of reading was negated by a series of horrible math teachers, all speaking in a flurry of a language that she had chosen to take but could never learn how to say. Her grades plummeted and she left the class, only to become the person kids stared at in the halls.
Her mind grew fast, her body grew slow. Bigger books, longer novels. She watched as the people around her showed their colors and she was afraid. Afraid of what they would say and what would h
Grandpa Dad’s cell phone rang, breaking the peaceful silence. Nobody moved; we waited it out. Grogginess held us all in her loving claws. The voicemail ring sounded, and the room lapsed back into silence for a whole five minutes. Voicemail rang again, annoying me.
Who just calls at 6 a.m. anyway?
Slight fear stirred inside of me, but I quelled it. It wasn’t possible. We were safe and sound in a hotel room in Ohio, save for my little sister’s stomach and Mom’s intestines. Dad dubbed it “screaming diarrhea” because Mom screamed when she sat on the toilet. It made for a very long trip back from visiting family in West Virginia for spring break, but they were all safe and secure as we were, maybe even more so. Grandpa was doing much better, and at 94 with pneumonia, he had spent the first half of our week-visit in the hospital an hour away. He talked to us the night before, and was awake and eating breakfast when we left
2014-062 ReturnThe way I work these prompt-a-day musings is to look at the prompt early in the day so it can wriggle around in my head for a few hours before I try to write something in the late afternoon or evening. As I write I think of an image to go with the words. Sometimes the image comes first.
"Sojourn", yesterday's prompt, is such a common biblical theme that I knew right away where I wanted to start writing. And I had just scanned in a roll of negatives from the Yashica-D. There was one badly overexposed image that had a surreal "just passing through" feel to it I thought would fit well. I worked it up and posted it on deviantArt so I could use here.
As I thought about today's prompt, "Return", the idea that kept wriggling around my head was "coming home". I looked through my gallery for an image that would convey the idea of not simply house, but home. I picked this one from a year and a half ago.
God grant you blessings on your way and a home to return to.
StockholmAnother world appears at night, as if the shadows reveal what the sun hides. I don’t say one side is more or less true than the other, I’m merely pointing out that if you’ve never sat alone at a train station at night, you cannot understand of what I speak.
And since you haven’t, you’ll just have to imagine it. I’ll begin by painting the setting, to set the rules, so to speak. We’ll bring forth the board, so the single piece has somewhere to be.
A train station. Theoretically, you can travel to any corner of the world from here. But that’s equally true of any other street or grove. The difference is that the station is designed for travelling; to be a starting point or final destination is its sole purpose. A fun thing about travellers is that they always think they know where they’re going, although no place is ever as they remember or anticipate. Thus the restless ones, seeking new adventures, as well as the lost ones. The lost on
3.March.2014Tell the story of an event (a dinner, a game, a film) in three different ways, depending on who is telling the story.
THE HOST: The once cozy, lived-in home had turned into a place that resembled a model display. There was not a throw pillow out of place in the painstakingly organized living room, and not a speck of dust dared reveal itself to be upon the impeccably dusted tables and shelves. The windows were washed so completely that no one would have been surprised if an unfortunate bird met its untimely end upon the crystalline glass pane. The kitchen was, though bustling with activity, as pristine as ever, the stainless steel surfaces reflecting light onto the dark granite countertops whereupon the food for the evening sat, ready to be placed.
The hostess herself, however, was of another demeanor altogether. Her strikingly haggard appearance was the antithesis of the environment, with her disheveled chocolate hair thrown into a ha
My LifeREAD DESCRIPTION BEFORE READING!!!
You sat there on your computer, again...
It was after school and as usual there was drama. You can across a website that you could take quizzes about pretty much anything on. As you scrolled through you saw a quiz called "What State Is Your Heart In"? Curious, you opened it up. The questions varied and finally you got your answer. It said Heart of Stone. You just shook your head and said quietly "They don't know the half of it." You stood up and walked over to the bathroom. The time on your phone read 11:11 pm, wow was it really that late?
You took your anti depression pills and quietly made a wish to yourself. Then, walking back into your bedroom you thought over your day. It had started with a text conversation the night before. Your real best friend had just moved across the country, and you wanted her to stay in touch. You asked your "friends" if she could join and they
Keep in Touch!
Lilyas has dedicated herself to making our community a brighter place with her vibrant artwork and infectious enthusiasm for interacting with others in our community. It has certainly paid off, as many deviants flock to her page on a daily basis to let her know how much of an inspiration she is. We absolutely agree, and couldn't let all that hard work go without recognition, so it's with great pride that we bestow the Deviousness Award for March 2014, to ... Read More