Monthly Archives: July 2009

Name

Me, being random, yet again. I got inspired. *shrug*

Amarie sat at the edge of the square, watching it fill with people. The performers were popular, as always, and the seagulls took every opportunity with food. She watched as the young man entered the emptying chapel, and then she stood up. Smiling, she made her way towards the chapel, entering and going straight to the back rooms, walking as if she had a right to be there. As she entered the dark, curtained hallways, the young man smiled at her.
“You came.” He said, approvingly.
“I did.” She grinned slyly, and produced a package from under her worn dress. “Are you going to tell me what you wanted it for now?”
He took the package from her, looking deep into her dark eyes.
“No.” He said, smiling.
“But?” Amarie protested, her eyes twinkling.
“But I might just take you with me.” He said, winking. Amarie grinned, and followed eagerly, a bounce in her step, as he walked through the dark doors at the end of the corridor. Amarie squealed as he opened the door, and let her into his private abode.
“This is your home?” She asked, excitedly.
“Yes.” He said, and shut the door behind her, discretely turning the key in the lock. He smiled, his face devoid of the kind features she’d seen just a moment before. Opening the package, he took out the knife, and held it to her throat.
“Thank you for giving me this, Amarie.” He whispered in her ear.
“How did you know my name?” She gasped, and he grinned wickedly as he plunged the knife into her throat. As she lay there, bloodstained, he let the smile fall from his face, and quietly whispered.
“Because I gave it to you.”

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Poem & Story

The poem is a simple poem which I wrote after I made a bracelet out of… err.. paper. I got the line, “Paper chain bracelets” stuck in my head, and I just had to do something with it.  The story is basically, I got stuck on the image of a bus, rattling along in the dead of night, and I needed to practise third person writing. Is a bit rubbish, but what can you do?

Paper Chain Bracelets

Paper chain bracelets,
and scribbled on hands,
Guady nail polish,
and kids in ‘cool’ bands,
Gormless eyed faces,
The teacher commands,
She can see all this,
From where she stands.

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Maybe

I’m writing this as part of a larger story- I was inspired.

I turned and watched my mother walk away, as I chewed my lip and prayed it would be okay. Turning round, I swung open the door to the classroom. I kept my head down, winding my way through the desks to a seat at the back, where I would avoid as much notice as possible.
“Who’re you?” I heard a voice, as I sat down in the corner. I glanced across to my neighbour, and smiled nervously. I was shaking.

“I’m Leigh. I’m starting today. You?” I asked.

“Jess.” She said, leaning forward. I noticed the anxious gum-chewing first, then the nose stud. “I been here for years. I’ll look after you.” She said, her strong accent showing through. She may not be the perfect person, but hey, it’s not like I’ve got much of a choice. I turned and watched as others filed into the room. A tall, black girl, with angled cheekbones and angry eyes slumped in the seat next to Jess.
“New meat?” She asked Jess, looking me up and down.
“She’s called Leigh.” Said the girl.
“I’m Chesney.” She told me. “Where you from?”
I paused. This was the question I’d been waiting for. “Tarragh.” I said, quietly.

“Woah, serious?” She said, with a half-laugh. “Why the hell did you move, then?”

“My d-” I started to say, before the teacher entered and silenced me with a sharp glare. “Tell you later.” I whispered to Jess and Chesney, as the teacher began to call out the register.
“Everyone say hello to Leigh Harvey.” She said, and I scowled, my face turning red.
There were a couple of snickers, before people lost interest and the lesson started.
“You were saying?” Said Jess.

“My dad got caught stealing.” I shrugged. I didn’t mention the heartache when we’d been kicked out, but dad had had to stay behind. I didn’t mention how much I missed him. I acted like it was no big deal, because these were tough girls. Not girls who’d tell me it’d be alright, and not to worry, and how they’re sure I’ll see him again one day.
“What he nick?” Said Chesney, a broad grin spreading across her face.

“Stuff.” I said, not wanting to go into it. There was a pause, as they waited for me to elaborate, and I sighed, knowing I’d have to go further. “He took one of the books from the library. One of the hidden ones.”
I winced, waiting for their reaction, but they just laughed and told me that my dad was ‘well cool’
I frowned. Maybe I’d be alright here. Maybe.

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Non-Writery Stuffs

I just thought I’d make a post to say hi! I don’t know how many people read this (well, I do, and it’s not much, so I’m pretending I don’t know) but I never actually made a welcome post.
So, Welcome! Make yourself at home! Comments are positively ENCOURAGED. I do like my comments.

And of course, click! 😀

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Classwork

Named classwork because this writery is stuff I did in class. You know, when I was supposed to be listening.

Slipping through my fingers

Slipping through my fingers,

Tiny grains of sand,

The seaweed strokes my hand,

Slipping through my fingers,

The best summer we ever had.

Problem.

I watch the car come to a halt, splashing me with mud. My rain-soaked hair hands limply as I open the door and slide into the back, shivering. My head pounds, and I ask the driver: “Mum’s in hospital again, isn’t she?”

“Yes,” the driver says. He pauses, and his voice softens. “Sorry.” he murmurs.

I smile slightly, and try to hold back the tears. Mum had never admitted her “problem” as the doctors called it. But I can’t remember the last time she was sober since dad died.

In a final moment of anguish, I almost cried out. What am I going to do now?

But I know the answer already. Nothing.

Dark.

A face on a wall

Mirrors standing tall

A window stained black

The smile that he lacks

A room full of dark

A tree with no bark

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