Britney

“You’re not Britney!”
“No, my name is Cassandra. I work for the same magazine as Britney and I came to tell you to stay away from her. That girl is in enough trouble now and she certainly doesn’t need you to give her any more.”
I stared at this new girl with significant interest. She was tall, dyed her hair and looked as though she ate about one meal every two months. Yep she definitely worked with Britney. New Ideal fashion magazine where Britney worked was famous for its extremely thin models. This was the problem with being a reporter. You had to deal with some weird and messed up people.
I had asked Britney to meet me here because I thought she could help me and I could help her. But according to this new girl, I was doing neither of the above. I opened my mouth to tell this intruder to go away, but somehow I felt that there would be better routes to getting what I wanted.
“Alright. What happens if I do leave her alone? If I never see her again?”
“Well Miss uh…”
“Pearce. Miss Angela Pearce.”
“Well Miss Pearce if you never see her again she will probably live a lot longer and you will probably keep all of your limbs.”
“Are you threatening me?”
“No, Miss Pearce. Threatening isn’t my job. I’m just relaying a message.”
“A message? From who?”
But Cassandra had already disappeared out the restaurant door.

Chaos

The chaos began from a small place inside. My heart sped up and liquorice- black spots appeared around the corners of my vision. My knees got weak and the ground came up to give me a kiss. The world went black for a moment. When colors came back to my eyes, I couldn’t manage to lift my head. When I finally pulled away, cherry blood streamed down my face. There was no pain. I was beyond feeling. The sugary white of my fingers was smeared from where I had touched my face. My strawberry- red nails were broken and jagged. I licked my lips. One was split. I tasted blood: it seemed to taste sour. The prized sweetness of my lips was gone. I was nothing. My perfectly constructed shape had become marred and my hair, which had been the rich color of caramel had tangled and bits of it had fallen off. I couldn’t move. My eyes traveled around the store. No body in sight. How long would it take for them to find me? How long must I lie here? The familiar smell of baking sugar reached my nose. I tried to wiggle my toes. Nothing. I couldn’t even feel my toes. Slowly. I turned to look at the disaster that had once been my pretty legs. They lay two feet from my body, broken off in my fall from the candy store counter where I had been on display.

Mrs. Harrison

Screech! The red car stopped suddenly and its occupants were thrown forward. The shock of the crash lingered and the young woman barely remembered her trip to the hospital. When she awoke many hours later, she was lying in a clean, white hospital room with her arm in a cast and stitches in her cheek.
The curtains were drawn back and she could see the sky of a late afternoon- a bright blue with cotton ball clouds. She turned her head and the room swam. When her vision cleared, she saw the clock read 4:06. 9 hours since the crash. Why had she been out? Why had she been out at 7 o’clock in the morning? She was never out that early. Oh… Damien. Of course… He was probably out partying… Or maybe he had a hangover. Well serve him right.
The door opened and a nurse entered. She wore a spotless dress and her soft, brown, cow eyes looked kindly at the poor figure on the bed.
The nurse said “Good afternoon dear. I’m Bertha.”
“B-Berea.”
The name rolled clumsily off her tongue.
“Wha-wha- What happened?”
“You were in a car crash dear.”
Really. She never would have guessed that.
“I mean what’s wrong with me?”
“You have a compound fracture of your humorous and you cut your face.”
“Oh. When can I go home?”
“Excuse me dear?”
How stupid was this woman?
“Home. When can I leave this hospital?”
“This isn’t a hospital dear. It’s the county jail. You killed a man last night, hit him with a car. You’re being charged with vehicular manslaughter. Possibly murder.”
“Who-who did I kill?”
“There wasn’t much left to identify him with, but his drivers license claimed he was Damien Harrison.”
No.
The nurse was speaking again.
“…will come see you tomorrow morning. Get some sleep, Mrs. Harrison.”

hello sam

When I stepped out of the theatre, the sky had turned completely black. Clouds covered the stars and far in the distance owls hooted. As I looked up and down the deserted street, the paths seemed evermore foreboding and the allies opened like dark mouths to swallow me whole. Perhaps the journey home was best left until morning. There was a hotel across the street and, as this seemed the most logical place for my nights repose, I directed my steps toward the front door.
The clerk at the front desk was anything but welcoming and the room to which he assigned me lacked many of the comforts of home: mainly small articles, such as… a bed. There was only an old mattress with a blanket tossed over it. I briefly considered going back downstairs and out the front door, but memories of the dark allies waiting for me outside would not let me. Instead, they made me double lock the door. I didn’t have anything in the way of luggage and I wanted a pillow to go with my mattress so I opened the closet door to search for one. Instead of the white, fluffy commodity for which I had hoped, a dark figure glided through the opening.
“Hello, Sam.”

Childrens book text

It was a perfectly normal day when Ms. Joiner’s class came to school.
They came in, sat down and read books while they waited quietly for their teacher.
Ms. Joiner came in smiling and carrying a rolled-up rug under her arm.
"Hey what's that?" asked the children.
"It's a surprise for all of you!" said Ms. Joiner.
And she placed the rug in the corner of the room.
The students kept looking at the rug and wondering what it could be for.
Finally, Ms. Joiner took the rug and spread it on the floor.
"Come sit in a circle please." she called the children.
They all came running and sat in a circle, just as requested.
"Class, we are going on a field trip today! To all of your favorite places!"
“But how will we get there?” The students wondered.
"On this magic carpet," replied Ms. Joiner.
She sat down with them, and the carpet flew up and away.
And they went to all of the children's favorite places:
Andrew and Isaiah wanted to go to Disney World.
Orion chose Leaping Lizards.
Audrey waned to go to the Humane Society to look at animals.
Richard and Claire said “We want to go to Target, please!”
They stopped at Lindsey’s lake house so she could show them around.
Then Jack C., Kelsey, and Caroline requested to go to the beach.
Cole wanted to go to Toy’s R Us to shop.
Yahiko, Sanaya, and Mary all said “The Mall!”
Malik took them to Chuckee Cheese’s where they played for almost an hour.
Ella’s request was farthest: all the way to Mexico.
Annie loved Stone Mountain and they climbed all the way to the top,
Jack L. asked to go to the park.
Isaac said the playground and the magic carpet took them.
The children were very tired by now.
So Ms. Joiner returned them to school where they arrived just as it was time to go home.
The children made sure to thank their teacher for the wonderful day.
They went home to tell their parents about all their adventures.

Dialogue- Girl

Last night I heard my parents talking. THat conversation was what made me realize I needed to act quickly. I had crept downstairs for a glass of water. Mom was talking.
"She is doing quite well in school."
"Doesn't mean anything." Dad said. "Things like this can be controlled by a crafty enough mind."
"Our offspring is intelligent; not crafty." Mom sounded almost insulted.
"Intelligent enough to be crafty."
Dad sounded upset. I was worried by the fact that he called me crafty.
"What do we do?" Mom had lowered her voice. When Mom's voice dropped, I always knew Dad had won the argument.
"THe only legal thing we can do."
That's my Dad: always obsessed with the "legal thing to do". If the law told him to kill Mom and me, he would have complied.
"We turn her in."
I didn't wait for Mom's reply. I ran upstairs silently and dressed then I climbed out the window and found my way to you.

Monologue- Nurse

THat poor girl. She's been here two days . What can that man be doing? Well, we will know soon huh Sissy? He's supposed to announce his decision today. Of course he will make her go back. At least I hope so. All we need around here is another love-sick doctor trying to hold on to his darling by screwing with the medical record.
How much longer? I want out of this place...I'm just so tired... He won't keep her here. He can't. He knows what will happen if he does. He knows she will catch the disease. Or she will have a breakdown. She doesn't deserve him anyway. Sorry, Sissy. I know I'm boring. You have spent three years listening to me gripe. Hopefully for both f us you wont have to listen to it much longer. I have to get out of here. I'm sick. There's the call. Let's see what Doc's got into his head this time...

If only...

The gun gleamed in the pale moonlight. Madison could feel his knees knocking together. Why would she do this? Sweat appeared on his forehead and clung to his soft, dark hair. He wanted to scream. But, like with every other emotion, he held it inside, where it bubbled and seethed. He had never been one to express his feelings.
Maybe that’s why Katherine was after him. But that wasn’t enough reason for murder. They had broken up over 6 months ago. Since then, they hadn’t conversed or really even acknowledged each other. So why this? And why now? Katherine had broken up with him. This couldn’t be his fault.
He still loved her, he realized. He always had and he always would. She had been his first love; his true love. When she had left him, he should have stopped her. He should have taken her in his arms and kissed her and told her he loved her. That’s what he should have done. But instead he had let her walk away. And now she held a gun to his chest.
Finally, Madison forced himself to look her in the eyes. What would he see? Anger? Hatred? No. In her eyes there was only sadness. Sadness tinged by fear. Slowly she lowered the gun from his chest and took a step out of arm’s reach. Madison breathed a sigh of relief. He knew she couldn’t do kill him.
But she was raising the gun again; this time to her own head. It took Madison a minute to realize what her intentions were. No. No she couldn’t. She just couldn’t. Not now. But, as he reached forward to stop her, she pulled the trigger.
The shot echoed through the night and sent a pain, much sharper then that caused by a bullet, into Madison’s heart. Katherine was dead. The only person he had ever really loved was dead. He felt empty.
He knelt beside her and lifted her limp body into his arms. He held her against his chest and for a brief, rare moment, tears fell from his eyes. Even now, she seemed as light as a feather and the familiar sent from her hair made him cry harder. A cold, numbness spread through him; as though he would never feel again.
As he held her close, for the last time, Madison finally said those words which he had truly meant to say all along: “I love you.”

Relative Normality - Story Commitment

Relative Normality
It was a cold night on Io, one of Jupiter’s moons. Of course, all nights were cold there so this was not unexpected. The moon’s surface was still, but far below, at a very precisely calculated distance from the core, cities thrived. Of course it was perfectly calculated. Everything was perfectly calculated here. The architecture, the food, the lights, even the people were fitted to a perfect stereotype. All were conformed to the same body structure; all had the same shade of dark, straight brown hair that was kept short so as not impede their Work.
Work was the only thing different about these people, if they could be called people. Their biological readings were all precisely the same: body temperature, heartbeat, red blood cell count, everything. Each was a perfectly designed living machine, and each was built for a special purpose.
Even a large chunk of their brains were the same. This was the latest technology and, even though it was not quite perfected, the Developers were still quite proud of it. They were told to be proud by the computer that controlled the large portion of their brains and so they were proud. Part of the brain, however, could not be conformed or shut down or removed without killing or severely damaging its owner. Experiments had been done to prove this. And so it was put into hibernation. The Developers were still highly pleased with their results. The process worked 99% of the time: excellent reading for a first run.
No one had ever bothered to inquire what happened to the other one percent who the process did not work on. You certainly never saw them after they began to show problem signs. At least I never saw them again.
But granted for a long time the process worked on me too. I may have been seeing them and just been told that they were figments of my imagination. But I know for certain what happened after I began to remember. Don’t give me that look Doctor. I see that red pen working away like mad. You just don’t know…
I don’t remember much before I was 13. I suppose I was just like everyone else, with my short brown hair and brown eyes; my flat chest, long legs, and pale skin. But it was at 13 that I began to change. It started with my fingernails. They began to grow. Since all our nails were designed to be a specific length, they should remain basically the same throughout a person’s life. So when mine started to grow, I didn’t think anything of it at first. Minor problems sometimes happened at the onset of puberty. They went away in 3-4 months and were nothing to lose sleep over. But then it came to my 14th birthday. Birthdays were not a celebration: we went to an office, filled out some papers, and were considered a year older. My problems hadn’t gone away by then though. In fact, they got worse. My hair had started to grow too. I was scared. Funny that fear is the first emotion I remember. Does that mean anything Doctor? Well, I suppose it really doesn’t matter. I was so scared that I went and got a pair of scissors and began to cut my hair and nails. I performed this ritual almost weekly, in the dead of night, frightened that someone would awake and hear the “snip snip” and discover my secret. After my “crime” was complete I would hide the scraps down the garbage disposal.
I began to think. Actually think. For myself. That was the most frightening: that I had thoughts and feelings that no one else shared. I wanted to grow my hair out. I began crying when I had to cut it. I was tired of the drab grey that everyone wore. I was tired of looking like everyone else and doing everything I was told. That was the time that this new program came out. The one you are part of Doctor. I was desperate. I really thought I was crazy. I was mostly managing to control myself, but at the same time, I knew I wasn’t far from exposing myself. Yesterday, I snuck out of my house and decided not to come back until I had control of this situation. I wanted help. And I knew that if I wanted help, I would have to get it before my parents found out. They were normal. They would turn me in. They would take me to THEM! Don’t let them do that! Doctor please! It’s not my fault! HELP! Oh. Oh Doctor I’m very sorry to have attacked you like that. I guess I lost control. It’s getting worse. You must see my problem? Surely you can help me? I can’t keep going like this… Is there anything you can do?
Doctor, when I was waiting for you outside, I heard a nurse speaking to someone on the phone. She said “We will not punish here. This is a haven for the diseased.” What did she mean Doctor? What disease? What punishment? What’s wrong with me? Are you going to kill me? I suppose it’s no wonder I’m scared.
Why are you looking at me that way? You’re like me aren’t you? You’re different. Why doesn’t anyone know? You are a government employee right? It’s because you can hide it… Is that what you do here; help people learn to hide their differences? You’re going to help me learn. Then I go back home like everything is normal and pretend I never saw you. Well maybe I don’t want to! Maybe I don’t want to be normal! I won’t go back.
But you’re nodding. Why? You don’t take me seriously do you? STOP LAUGHING! Oh. Sorry. You’re right, I do need help. Ok, I’ll come with you. Where are we going? I suppose it really doesn’t matter though. Ooooo this place looks comfortable. What? This is my room? I get to stay here? Yes! Oh thank you! Thank you so very much! Wait. What’s this? I don’t like needles. Don’t stick that in me! OW! I’m scared! What’s going on?! Am I crazy Doctor?
Epilogue
As I stood over the unconscious body of the girl, I almost felt sad. Almost. I had trained myself to control my emotions. I could pass for Normal any day. But there was something about this girl… Out of all the cases like this that I had treated, she was the only one who had wanted my help. She was the only one to come voluntarily. Why? I would try to find out when I ran tests on her. The tests would determine the type of operation she needed. After the procedure, she would be returned to her family who would undergo a memory wipe and all would be back to normal.
The poor girl. She would never know the answers to her questions. I had wanted to tell her. How yes, I was like her and how the government was the scary monster under the bed that she had believed it to be. It was only through them that people like her and me had any chance at a normal life. I would have loved that life. Her protests and the protests of the others were something I had to work hard to understand. Didn’t they understand how much better that life would be? I often had craved that life; quiet, peaceful, going around doing just as you were told. You never had to stress or worry or make any hard choices. They just didn’t understand. I would have had the procedure if I could, but a strange blood type (Type Q) and a contaminated bone marrow had prevented it. Old records called my disease as Osteoporosis.
The girl had fallen with her eyes closed. For a moment I allowed my emotions to run free, though I knew I would regret it. She was beautiful. Had she been allowed to be different, she would have been the most sought after woman on Io. But women are not sought after on Io. They are assigned or rationed, but never sought after. My heart beat slightly faster as I looked at this girl. If only… I had never felt so far away from something that I desired. Suddenly I knew I couldn’t perform this procedure. I couldn’t turn this girl back into what she didn’t want to be.
Then the rational part of me took back over. I had tests to perform. I took her to the examining room and placer her inside the HyberTube. I set the machine to run the tests, then sat down to wait. I may have fallen asleep because the machine finished the tests very quickly. I went to the screen to look at them. For a moment, I couldn’t move. I checked the screen and ran back up tests to make sure. I even did something a little old fashioned and drew some of the girl’s blood to test. The results were confirmed. Blood type Q.

Phenomenology

"oh."
"what?"
"you scared me."
"Oh sorry."
"it's alright."
What are you doing?"
"Nothing."
"BY that you mean it's none of my business."
"I didn't say that."
"You were thinking it."
"What are you implying?"
"Answer MY question first."
"You haven't asked me anything!"
"Yes I have."
"What?"
"I asked what you were doing."
"well maybe you dont want to know."
"Hey what is that? What's wrong with you?"
"I told you you didn't want to know."
"Please don't..."
"Goodbye."

I don't know why I wrote this.

Reflection

This story is terrible. It's a terrible pun and I had huge huge huge amounts of trouble trying to tie all this together. I got started just fine and everything worked well up to a certain point. That point was when I realized that I had no idea how to end the silly thing. The ending line is just thrown on in a way that makes a moderate amount of sense to me but probably would make no sense to the reader whatsoever.

Shaggy dog story

The attic door flew open with a bang and a could of dust engulfed the two boys standing at the bottom. When the boys finished coughing and had wiped enough of the dust out of their eyes, the looked up into the omnious black of the attic stairs. Jonathan reached over and pulled the light switch and the two began to climb. At the top was another switch. The pool of yellow light revealed various knick-knacks the largest of which were some dark mahogany shelves. Plain and attractive. Max stood and looked at the shelves. They were totally different from anything either of the boy's parents would buy. They were not covered in dust and obviously much newer then all the other things in the room.
"Boys? "
Jonathan and Max both jumped. They weren't too sure how their mom would react to the two of them being alone in the attic.
"What are you doing? Oh. I see you found Grandma's old shelves. These things have been in the family for generations, long before Grandma got them."
Their mother smiled.
"That was the biggest mistae your father ever made,trying to sell these things.he tried to auction them off and on the day of the auction, no one would take them. The auctioneer couldn't even get startinhg price for them. That was true everywhere we went. Well, finally your father got so fed up he took an axe to the shelves. The axe broke. We could find not reason why the shelves wouldn't sell and even less of no reason why they wouldn't split. Not even a scratch. Just one, tiny little thing."
She pointed to the underside of one of the shelves, indicating the boys should look there.
"I found this years ago. Never told your father."
The boys bent and looked where she pointed. Words were carved into the wood, so covered in dust they were practically unnoticeable.
"To thine own shelf be true."

Once upon a time...

Once upon a time there was a man-more like a boy really ofr he was only 18 years old or so at last count(he could never rmemeber his age, not having any recollection of the day in question on which he was born nor ever having celebrated his day of birth, because his parents died in an accident when he was 3, although it wasn't so much of an accident, but that's a different story.
THIS story is about the day when the boy (Sam was his name) had his own accident and fell down a well. As he fell, his first thought was "I'm dead." A few minutes later, he thought "This sure is one deep well." Then a light appeared at the very bottom: small, but growing rapidly. The lught was of a greenish hue and seemed to flicker softly. The small of orchids reached his nostrils. Then, without warning, THUMP! Sam landed unceremoniously on his behind on...grass? Down a well? Oh well, at least he hadn't broken anything which was a lot more then he hadn't expected from such a long fall.
This is jsut the beginning of a story which at the moment is kinda lame. It's not my favorite so far, but it has some potential. Thanks for a frist sentence that's far better then the rest of the narrative...

A Villanelle for Murder.

SPECIAL CREDIT TO HER WHO HELPED ME WRITE THIS :)
The firey eyes that I loved so
The stain of love across my hands.
Afraid of where the love might go.

He whispered things as if to show
He held the ability to let the world know
The firey eyes that I loved so.

We walked hand in hand across the snow,
My heart beat hard against my chest
Afraid of where the love might go.

Our only company was a doe.
As she raced through the snow, her eyes could mimick
The firey eyes that I loved so.

I leaned to kiss his lips so slow.
But at the time little could he see
Afraid of where the love might go.

The long cold blade slips easily from it hiding place.
Thrust through layers of heavy cloth into flesh, through bone.
The firey eyes that I loved so,
afraid of where the love migt go.

This is an awesome idea and I love the story but it doesn't flow well at all and is very confusing. Please give suggestions as to how this could be improved.

Dance on the Moon

Then I waltzed with the man on the moon.
We danced through the stars happy alone.
I heard his soft, sweet voice begin to croon
His skin, his hands, his eyes the color of stone
The stars to shine bright, our feet to not stop
Never to be released from his bright gaze
We danced round the moon bottom to top
No eye could penetrate that soft sweet haze.
And I loved him with a deep secret love
And he many time said that he did love me.
He seemed to be a gift sent from above
Meant to be together, was plain to see.
But then I awoke, in my bed alone
My lover had gone leaving me to roam.

This is one of the few things I have written so far in Creative Writing that I have actually liked. It makes no sense and I am very well aware of that. It's why I like it. The poem is about a dream. Dreams usually dont make sense. If you have any criticism please somment because I would love to put this in with my poetry project. Just don't say "It doesn't make sense". I know it doesn't.

Reading Shakspear to my cat

It was early Saturday morning
And I had nothing to do.
My mother mad her usual offers:
“Clean or learn to sew.”

But in my pride or laziness
(Which one I do not know)
I turned down all her offers
And let my stupidity show.

And now, alas, I have wasted my time,
Sitting there upon the mat.
With the large red book in my hand
Reading Shakespeare to my cat.

I wrote this poem as a homework assignment. I couldn't think of any possible subjects, so my mom randomly suggested I do something about reading shakespeare. When I'm bored, I will talk to, or annoy, my cat so I wrote a poem about being bored and projecting that boredom onto my cat by reading shakespeare to her. Yes, my mother really does suggest I learn to sew when I'm bored. That's why I never tell her I'm bored. She will actually give me something productive to do. Which is a great idea for a poem....

Teleportation By Douglas Adams

>

Creative Writing first assignment (8/11/09)

I teleported home one day

With Ron and Sid and Meg.

Ron stole Meggie’s heart away

And I got Sidney’s leg.

-Douglas Adams

Since this was such a short poem, I wrote a variation from every characters point of view.

1) I went to lunch the other day,

With Ron and Sid and Doug.

Ron ate everything but the tray,

And Sidney ate the rug.

2) At lunch on Saturday

With Doug and Meg and Sid,

I felt so sick I couldn’t stay

And joke and laugh and kid.

3) I got a call on Saturday

While lunching with my friends.

They to fix the teleporter today.

To late to make amends.