The boy crosses the planet to follow the girl. But little does he know, the girl didn't want to be followed. She throws dragons into his path that try to strip the flesh from his bones. The great expanse of water and land doesn't stop him from trying to find the mighty lady. It seemed as if she slipped away, but from behind him, a blade plunges through his back. The tip, streaked with red sticks out of the center of his stomach. He falls to the ground, star-crossed for eternity.
This is basically a dramatic event of how lots of boys like to chase girls. When she breaks up with him, it's like he's stabbed.
Too quick to trust
I tend to be too quick to trust. Not just people. I've made accounts for many different writing websites and more because I was too lazy to read the description. That's the reason I found Prose and it hasn't backfired yet.
Emphasis on the yet.
Oh, there is the one part of suddenly having 500 emails a day since I started this habit. I wonder why...
Your Opinions Please
Okay, I have an important question for all of you. I'm entering my sophomore year and can't decide between three semester classes. I need to decide on two. Right now, I want to take Creative Writing II, Psychology, and Astronomy. Any suggestions? I love space, but psychology could help with writing characters and so could creative writing.
I smile at the sprout breaking its way through the soil. It represents everything I wish I could be but can’t. It pushed through the fire that brought forth all this carnage and destruction. It’s the first sign of life I’ve seen since the death of my parents and the raging inferno that destroyed everything I’ve ever known.
The blackened corpses of trees and their ashes lie everywhere in every direction, criss crossing each other and making it impossible to escape. The earth is still warm from the flames and my shoes have gained holes both on top and on the sole.
But this small sprout gives me hope. Hope that I can pick myself back up and find my way out of this labyrinth of death. An empty hole fills my chest where my heart used to sit. I’ve not felt as much as I should considering that my parents are… you know. But I can’t help but almost be relieved at the same time. Sure, I loved them, but I don’t think they ever gave me much of a thought except for when I forced them to bring me on this trip.
I’m glad I came. I was with them in their last moments; their dying breaths were spent together with me off to the side where they liked me: out of the way.
I sat on the stump of a log that hadn’t been burned as much as others. I stare at the small sprout wondering how it got there. How far did it travel from seed pod to earth to grow into this beautiful thing of greenery?
I see the green as a new thing. It reminds me of my sister back home. How I was there as she was born just like I am here to watch this plant survive into something better. I realize then that I may never see her again.
I truly mourn them. I mourn all the things I’ve lost and all the things I’m sure will go wrong. My feet sink into the ashy dirt and I wiggle my toes to get a feel of the wonderful things our planet has given us. These things have been given and taken away.
Mother loved plants and I will always remember that. She never valued modern-day electronics or any of the other distractions of the current decade. I always thought it annoying but I wonder if she had a point. Why should we spend all our time on a screen? There’s a large world outside that we’ve barely started to explore. All it takes is a small idea to spread the start of a new era of excitement.
REVENGE ON HIM
I never thought I could feel such betrayal, such hatred towards the boy I once loved. He used to be kind and sweet. His light brown hair and light scattering of freckles gave him an innocent look but he ruined it. Those fantasies I had of us running off into the sunset were all lies and one-sided emotions.
The glittering green emeralds that were his eyes never seemed to have left me. But I know why now. They were waiting. Calculating what he would do next. Where he would strike me hardest to take me down. Where to break my soul. The loving gaze was never of love. It was a sinful stare that tore into my heart and buried itself there disguised like a handsome boy. But that’s not the truth. It never was.
All feelings towards him were blasted to dust the moment he made his move. The one step he took from my arms to hers were like knives in my chest, heart, and mind. How I ever thought I could be in love with a boy so perfect is beyond me. All I was ever really worth was twenty dollars in a bet. But I don’t think they thought I’d get them back.
They probably thought I’d never have the guts, never have the right type of mindset to pull something off but you don’t read eight books a week and not have a few ideas.
I stare down his buddies across the hall and don’t flinch as I walk past them. They may not be the football boys but the nerds in our school won the state wrestling championship bringing them to a close second. They could turn everyone against me in a heartbeat. So I’d have to play this carefully.
I see his face hovering over the thrall of students. I used to like his height because I could always find him, but now I see it as an advantage to my enemy. He doesn’t glance my way. His eyes pass over me but they move on as if I’m the most insignificant person in the world. Like I hadn’t had my first kiss with him. Like we hadn’t exchanged hundreds of texts to each other and secret notes with phrases of “I love you” and “Beautiful.” I see him settle his eyes on her. The whole reason for the whole betrayal in the first place.
I see them together and just know who I would take out my revenge on. Who would take credit for every single thing he had put me through in the last few weeks and wait out the aftermath. I move closer and make my move, starting the whole cycle of revenge.
I haven't had many unsavory jobs, but I remember a particularly bad one a couple years ago. Every year, my dad plants peppers. Jalapenos and serranos are his favorite and we mostly use them for our homemade guacamole dip for tacos. This year, we had a monopoly of peppers and guess who had to cut them. Me.
The first few were fine, but since this was my first time, I didn't know not to stick your finger in your eye afterwords. The second time we made guac that week, I had to cut the peppers and I sliced my finger open. The rest of the season, I had to deal with a cut on my finger and hot pepper juice constantly getting in it. It doesn't help that I'm a picker and pick at scabs. Let's just say I learned my lesson.
My nightmare starts as all do. Total blackness that makes you feel like you're drowning. Like the air is being pulled from your lungs and your throat squeezes in on itself. I can see a single figure in front of me but it takes a minute for her face to come into focus. Her eyes are stained with tears and her shoulders shake. There's a pair of children't scissors that seem to mock me. Her arms are covered with scratch marks and bleeding cuts. She holds the pair of scissors up to her throat and plunges them in before I can stop her.
I sit there watching my best friend die in my arms because I wasn't fast enough to stop her. Because people piled pressure on top of her and did nothing to lessen the weight. Because of the bullies who don't care for anything but to tear others down and this is what happens. Death.
I suspect I had this nightmare because I actually found my friend in the bathroom at school preparing to cut herself. I don't know what I would have done if I showed up a minute later than I did. I've never been so scared in my life.
I have chosen my username for many reasons. When my siblings were younger, they used to call me Cherry instead of my name, which I'm not going to disclose. My friend had no idea bus she has called me Cherry for the last ten years and laughed so hard when I told her my siblings to too. 29 has always been 'my' number. I was born on leap day so you can see my connection to the number. But what's funny is my first soccer team, my number was randomly picked as 29 and the number on the back of my jersey is still 29 to this day.
Why so serious?
Why so serious, you ask?
Well, I have an answer for you.
I don't think you thought of the reason that I can give,
but I'll let you try.
I can't find my phone.
I've looked everywhere.
It's not on the charger.
It's not on the bed.
It's not in the bag.
I almost lost my head!
It's not on the floor.
It's not behind the door.
Come give me a hand!
It's in my hand.