Young Adult
Murky Waters
Jasmine sat in the backseat with her friend Laura, watching the trees whizz by as Laura’s father, Mr. Rittenhouse drove. Mrs. Rittenhouse sat in the passenger seat, pointing at the wooden scenery and expressing her thoughts to her partner driving. Laura sat behind her mother, headphones on, slightly moving her head to the pop rhythms playing on her smartphone.
By Anna Gilchrist 4 years ago in Fiction
Ally's Warning
The day that you left, Faded into the clear sky, Made me a pebble Dakota released a dissatisfied breath, folding up her poem after revision and stashing it in her sweatpants. After hooking the grey leash to Ally’s pink collar, she also slipped a thick-handled, steel kitchen knife into her pocket for protection. The realization of how silly her actions seemed was not her priority as she inhaled deeply and pushed the sliding door aside so the dog could bustle across the threshold into the bleak, meager patch of grass behind their townhouse. Despite her mother’s repeated warnings, the door remained ajar to perpetuate an environment of comfort. If whatever that thing is decided to make its move that night, all she would have to do is grab Ally and dash inside.
By Jules Day (they/them) 4 years ago in Fiction
Crescent Moon
In a dark night where the piercing light of the crescent moon brushed through the leaves of the trees. I was there standing right beside of a massive water fountain with a Venus’s figure in the center. It also had some colonnades to the sides, with grape vines growing around. It was a beautiful night garden full of tulips, roses, sunflowers and jasmines. The sky was cloudless with a dark violet tone. I was able to see one arm of the Milky Way with its thousands of suns and shooting stars. I walked through this Utopian landscape, with my leisurely pace so aimlessly like if I were waiting for someone or something. Then when I got down hill I found in the very middle of nowhere, just standing with only gravity holding it a very large mirror with an oval form which was framed with silver.There I could see myself for who I was. I had light golden brown skin with a long white silk dress that discovered my whole back and stopped just right before buttocks. And on my back, hanged loose a golden thick chain that in the very end was a crescent moon attached to a transparent quartz. I had blond platinum hair, wavy and long until my waist. My face shone as a young elf. After I saw myself, I decided to continue walking down hill, when suddenly in the distance I could see someone else, so I didn’t hesitate for a second to go and meet this mysterious being. When I got closer with every step, my heart started beating faster, because I couldn’t believe what my eyes saw. The other person who was there seemed increasingly like me every-time as I got more closer to her. But unlike me she had a long black coat with a buttoned black silk shirt, her elegant trousers and heels were black too. On front of her chest their lade hanging the same chain, but made of white gold. It also ended with a backward crescent moon attached to a onyx stone. Her hair was long and wavy like mine but light brown. She was looking at herself in the mirror like I was doing a moment ago. And then, she looks at me through the reflection of the mirror, and I was shocked to see that she had a strong resemblance to me. It was like having a twin. And then, when suddenly she spoke:
By 𝑵𝒂𝒉𝒐𝒏𝒚 𝑯𝒊𝒓𝒂𝒍𝒅𝒐 4 years ago in Fiction
Blank Pages for Closed Eyes
Blank Pages for Closed Eyes By Veronica Letourneau It was the sun reflecting in my eye and the cool morning air sweeping in from the window that woke me up. My head ached and my shouldered tense from what must have been a stressful night that I didn’t remember. While this kind of morning was seemingly not strange, there was something about it that made the hairs on my arms rise and my back sweat cold. I reached over to the phone on my bedside table, my blanket sliding off as I sat up in my bed. It was 7am, too early for my alarm to go off. Why did I wake up so early?
By Veronica Letourneau4 years ago in Fiction
My Perfect Crime
A new boy moved to my school on the first day of grade four. Everyone was excited to meet him and find out more about him. Our teachers told us that his name was Tyler, his family had just moved to town in the summer and that he was very allergic to peanuts, so a note was being sent home that anything with peanuts or peanut oil could not be brought to school.
By L. A. McCullough4 years ago in Fiction
Oops! Don't Step On the Cracks!
"Oooh, you broke your mother's back!" "Shut the hell up Jasmine!" Each of the six times Doreen had committed the unthinkable offense, Jasmine had shouted out the same thing. Doreen couldn't understand why the girl persisted in trying to play the stupid step on the crack game while they were already in the middle of playing hopscotch.
By Justiss Goode4 years ago in Fiction
Cold Tide Warm Skin
Cold Tide Warm Skin. Guilt is like a sea of darkness, raging and gnarly. And I am not drowning. The clouds hang about steady and water-filled, they hold the water. They are part of the force which holds him. The sky is just dark and swirls the clouds round and round, the wind squeals, shrieks and howls as its rasping self divides the space between his face and the water. Minute droplets sting from the cold as they whip on and off his face and confront the next round the storm must tell. The ocean teaches a lesson a man can never tell. That is why a man cannot speak his mind, he won’t tell what is on his heart.
By Clifton Baden Pratt4 years ago in Fiction
The Wells of Gems
I'd been finding sparkly rocks for as long as I can remember. My mother hated me for it. No matter where I went, down to the brook or up the path to visit Granny or into town, I'd come back with a bit of stone that flashed light in my eyes as I walked. I kept them in the bottom of the bed box - who would care but me what I slept on? I cleaned out the rushes regularly and kept it tidy, so why should she care? But she threw out my rocks twice. I found them all the first time, since she just tossed them at the edge of the meadow. The second time she had to fish me out of the brook, many times, screaming. Father had to holler at her something fierce because she kept dragging me back to the house, and I'd leave to fetch more of my pretties, and he finally threatened to tie her to something and let me be. If I was hurting no one, and it didn't dirty the house, what was her problem?
By Meredith Harmon4 years ago in Fiction
