Young Adult

A Midnight Friend
It’s been about a year since I was deemed insane and shipped off to this stupid place. Granted, I rarely ever considered myself sane by any stretch of the imagination, but to be stuck in this hell hole is a bit much. Before I go too far I should probably introduce myself, I currently go by Dean Chreistler, I'm nine years old, have short, white hair, blue eyes and I'm a certified murderer. That last statement sounds kind of harsh, I'm actually a legalized child assassin, and I work under a man known as Zurui, who owns a legal bounty collections business. Though the existence of child assassins is widely kept quiet, they still house the exams every few years, and I happened to pass six years ago.
By Audrey Fuller4 years ago in Fiction
Mya Finds a Home
Mya looked around the barn and got excited. Yes, she thought, this would make a nice home. She had been looking for a new place ever since the human burned down her tree. This barn would do. It looked deserted and unused so she wouldn’t be bothered. Mya stretched out her wings and took flight into night to find some food however she didn’t realize how windy it was and she crashed into a tree. Mya got back up and went to fly but something was wrong so she flew back to the barn to rest.
By Rebecca Hackney4 years ago in Fiction
The Dead Secret
Lawrence, Kansas. May 13, 2020. Veronica gets a call at work, It's from the hospital, letting her know her husband has been killed in a car crash. She falls to the floor crying. She already lost their baby, now her husband? She can't believe this is happening.
By Alexandra Robinson4 years ago in Fiction
to love her one last time.
Do you taste the ash? This fire that burns before me imprints itself onto the dark night. You lit me aflame once. Aflame, as the tips of this lighter I grasp with fingertips as frigid as the moon. I look up at her, the moon; her sullen eyes. I look back down at the flame; the warmth travels not so far.
By ev gunn.4 years ago in Fiction
A Dead Rat For Dinner
It was a crazy world. What I’d done had led me here. To this barn. In the middle of nowhere. On a cold winter night. At least it would provide shelter. And a little warmth.
By Daniel Lee Peach4 years ago in Fiction
The Weight Upon Her Beautiful Wings
A beautiful barn owl perched high on the edge of a window sill on the human's large wooden structure. The barn provided excellent shelter for her to rest. As her eyes peered over the land below, she strained her senses for the slightest scratches of prey.
By Mel E. Furnish4 years ago in Fiction
The return back home
The wind howled furiously as the brisk air nipped at the nose of the few townspeople who were outside at the late hour. Sniffles sounded out throughout the small crowd as they rushed to get into their homes to be away from the cool weather. Smiling up at the full moon, he held his daughter in his arms. He loved the calm and stillness of the night. She sneezed and he immediately looked down at the three year old girl. “Guess I better hurry hm Ryse?” He asked the girl with a smile. She looked up at him sleepily with her beautiful light brown eyes that glistened in the light of the full moon above. As the stars twinkled she nodded and uttered out a soft, “Cold.” The man holding her nodded and sighed, “Where almost there, princess.” He mumbled and kissed her forehead, pulling her closer to his body. The mocha skinned man looked around and began walking through the town once more. The man made sure to bundle his daughter up in the warmest clothes he could get for her including her favorite wool blanket from her mother that resided in the dark green bag on his back.
By Mysiah Perry4 years ago in Fiction
Cure for a Lost Cause
They were lying shirtless on his double bed, Ruth’s head awkwardly resting on his chest and his arm tucked in the space between them, decidedly not wrapped around her shoulder. Their pants were still on, so she was feeling really proud of herself. Mom always said that men wouldn’t care about you anymore if you put out on the first date. Ruth didn’t believe her, but recent experience had her doubting herself.
By Sheena Holt4 years ago in Fiction
The Heist
The sun was settling near the horizon when Corvin finally came upon the entrance to the underground trade route. The archway was the height of a city gate, over a story high and carved into the side of the ridgeline with an organic elegance only seen in the most ancient Imperial architecture. From afar it was beautiful, but the closer the young elf came to the construction, the more flaws he could see marring the stone. At one time, gold gilt must have painted the vine-like tendrils, and tiny pockmark carvings exposed places gemstones had once been fixed before scavengers had pried them loose. Corvin stepped through the open doorway, marveling at the sheer craftsmanship of the ancient entryway. It was believed that the elaborate subterranean trade route had been built by the original inhabitants decades ago. The land was more treacherous and wild then, and travelling underground not only protected merchants from attack, but also eliminated the chance of a caravan being stopped indefinitely by an avalanche, snow storm, or flooding river. Like so many other innovations of their ancestors, the network of tunnels was just another reminder of what the Empire once was.
By Kristen K. Roberts4 years ago in Fiction
A Wistful Search for Spirit
“Amaris Chiltus. Amaris Felis.” Arista softly chanted, as she placed her golden snuffer atop the desperate dancing flame and stifled its last sip of oxygen. Her purple votive Abundance candle hinted scents of lavender, fir and morning chamomile and except for the wintery theme of her bedding you would have thought you found the actual scent of the color itself. She twisted her elongated labradorite ring to release its grip on her index finger and set it reverently on a stack of natural stone beaded bracelets that she kept on her bedroom vanity. Contently, she made her way toward her bed. Stopping a moment, she appreciated her lavish, faux-fur Snow Lynx bedding that she had found to enhance the winter season. It was complete with pillows of every shape and size for the geometrically minded, of which she was. Onward, she seemingly floated toward her bed and turned to take a seat at the edge of her mattress. Leaving her slippers at the edge of the sheepskin rug, she once more relished its plushness on the soles of her feet and, then lifted her knees up toward her chest. She glanced admiringly toward her vanity at her waist-high snowy pine tree, an expression of her own tastes. Embellishing her homage to nature, Arista chose a wispy, white feathered boa to cascade and spiral down the tree as well as a pompom snowball garland, both selected from the town’s craft shop. But tonight, she was especially drawn to the yellow, piercing eyes coming from beneath the frosted branches. They belonged to the mini-sized replica of a barn owl, and it closely resembled the one that frequented her own countryside property. She had chosen this little resemblance as it struck her peculiarly from a previous encounter, and every night its intense stare would stir and awe her spirit. Seemingly alive, but frozen still in the tree.
By Sherri L Dodd4 years ago in Fiction
When I Say
"What's the point of this? He's not wise at all," my little brother piped up, distracting me as always. "That's enough," My father cut in sharply. He was a man of few words, taking the phrase strong, silent type to a new level.
By Bonnie Joy Sludikoff4 years ago in Fiction
Arcana
Chapter 1: Arcana's Arrival Hiroshi poured the steaming tea carefully into his wife's ceramic mug. Tonight was an ordinary night, but Daichi had insisted on using their elegant tea set from the main island. She mused to her husband that it would bring them good luck.
By Aley Way4 years ago in Fiction