I'm 15. I love creative writing. I've read fantasy all my life, fascinated and in love with the new characters and worlds I've explored. I'm a total nerd, and english is by far my favorite class in school. I get kind of depressed sometimes, so I write it out. I just love it. Throwing on music and getting lost in my stories, worlds, creations... Ooh, and I follow back! Please leave comments, I love to hear what you think, & your ideas:) hope you enjoy my dark little worlds and characters..
The day breezed by, Derek met up with Aubrey at her locker with his books in his arm. Aubrey watched girls walk by him, giving them a strange look. "No backpack?" "Well.." "Right.. Sorry...
"I'm heading to bed, goodnight." Aubrey called to her grandmother from the stairs. "Night." She said from the living room.
"They're beautiful." Aubrey said, still feeling the feathers on Derek's wings. He closed his eyes, slowly relaxing at the soothing feeling of her touch. "They, are a burden." He said.
Aubrey sat in Derek's room, combing through her wet hair with her fingers. It was a dark green, a few band posters on the walls.
"So, what do your parents do?" Derek asked, walking beside Aubrey, his back continuing to burn. Her face drained of colour. "Did I say something?" She stared at the ground. "I um...
Aubrey sat on the couch staring out the window. Her grandmother sat in her chair watching her. "So. How was school?" She asked, breaking the silence. "School was.. ok." She said.
Aubrey sat at the back of the classroom, watching the mysterious boy move down the isle of desk. He fascinated her since he came at the beginning of the year, two weeks before.
Prologue: "He's beautiful." Astra said, cradling her new born son. Winston smiled, tucking Astra's light blonde hair behind her ear. "What do we name him?" She asked, smiling.
"A wonderful Father, teacher, and helper to us all. May he rest in peace." Roslyn placed a flower on Walter's casket, her fingers locked with Jordan's. It was all over. The world was safe.
One thousand gifted stood in a line, armed. The sun began to set. Jordan was in the front line, with Flynn at his side, leading the group. Flynn put a hand on his shoulder. Jordan looked at him.
"They'll be here tonight." Flynn said to Jordan, his mouth full of bread. Jordan, still groggy from sleep stared at him. "We're gonna get her. Walter can fix her." "She'll be stronger.
"He should've been back two hours ago." Jordan growled, pacing around the camp. Flynn ran a hand through his dark hair nervously. "What do you say we do then?" Jordan clenched his fists.
"Another two days, and we'll be there." Flynn said. The november air cold but fresh, the sun shined down on them through the treetops of the forest.
"Well uh, happy halloween guys..." Flynn said in the little cabin Wilbur drew. They were two days into their journey, it was pouring non-stop freezing rain.
"Jordan. You need to come out." Olivia said, listening to Jordan throw things from the other side of the bedroom door. Roslyn had been gone for three days. "Screw off." He growled.
A month passed. The lake was cold, the forest was red and orange. The school was full, a thousand gifted teenagers trained five days a week for the coming battle.
Jordan washed off the mud he used in survival, and headed to see Roslyn in the infirmary. He opened the door, finding her sitting on the edge of the bed. "Love. You okay?" She inhaled. "Yeah...
"Tell me everything you know of Tamar's plans Wilbur." Walter said, sitting back in his chair, Wilbur across from him. Wilbur stared at the calendar for a moment. August 28th it was.
"He's beautiful." Astra said, cradling her new born son. Winston smiled, tucking Astra's light blonde hair behind her hair. "What do we name him?" She asked, smiling.
"It's perfect." Roslyn said. Jordan slipped his arms around her, his chin resting on her head.
"Drink, and you will be the most powerful." The beast told him, holding a flask of black, warm liquid to young Tamar. Power. Tamar always loved power. He took the flask, staring at the hideous beast.
Under the moonlight.. Please comment ideas. I want to continue it, but I've got major writer's block... Inspire me. :).
"We could.. Run away.." Jordan murmured to Roslyn, laying on his bed stroking her hair. Roslyn stared around the room, dark burgundy walls.. Similar set up as the rest of the rooms.
The demon screeched, and disappeared in a blast if black smoke. Jordan turned to Roslyn, eyes black. "If he's come, more will. I need to get you back where it's safe.
James's wrist grew worse throughout the day. He wandered to his locker, to find Aaron waiting. He cursed under his breath. "You listen bluethorn." He growled.
James woke up sweating and panting, tangled in his sheets. He shot up, staring around the dim light of his little room. His wrist burned.
"There will be four training centers. One hour will be spent in each centre, per day, five days a week." Walter announced. He told everyone what was coming, and how to be prepared.
Sometimes I feel like I'm going to self destruct. Just lose it. Walk out, pushing my way through the crowd if humans in reality, the inner demons in my head. I can't be handled. I am not normal.
James wandered through the dark, cold woods, off in his own world. He always loved the woods.. It was so quiet... And peaceful. He stared up at the beautiful moon, shining on his face.
"Come on.. It's not that cold." Jordan said smiling, standing in the lake with his jeans rolled up. Roslyn laughed at him from the dock.
I want the cold night air to fill my lungs. I want to break free of this living hell. I want to run in the woods from my inner demons. I want the moon to shine on my face.
"Why. Why the hell, would you keep this from him?!?" Roslyn yelled. Walter sat in his chair, staring at the broken glass.
Roslyn and Jordan returned to the manor not long after lunch. Olivia walked by, stopping dead in her tracks, colour draining from her face. "Jordan.. Walter's been waiting for you.." She said quietly.
Jordan was ten again. He locked himself in the bathroom, curled up in the very back corner, sobbing between his knees. Uncle Will was after him again. He stared at his bare, bruised arms.
Rogan let out a scream of agony at the arrow was driven into the back of his shoulder. He stumbled into a tree, listening to the hunter laugh in victory.
I'm in love with every world but reality..
Jordan lead her through the pale yellow, candle-lit dining room. The room was rather large, filled with rows of dark-wood tables.
"Where is he." Tamar demanded. His servant, Wilbur trembled with fear. He never wanted to serve the great Tamar, but he had no choice. He was young, eighteen, with hazel eyes and dirty blonde hair.
Writer's block. My worst enemy..
Jordan and Roslyn sat on the docks by the lake, talking about their lives, before they came to the manor. His story. His childhood before Walter had found him, was sick, twisted, and gruesome.
Roslyn opened her eyes, staring at a white ceiling, under dim light. She felt tired, and weak. Her mouth felt dry. The burning in her stomach almost fully extinguished.
Roslyn woke up, staring at treetops. She inhaled, smelling the luscious scent of forest. She struggled to move her feet. She felt constricted, looking to realize she was being carried.
To want nothing more, but to live in your own stories..
His smile. His every move, graceful. His blue eyes. His lovely scars. His strength. His presence warming my cold, poison heart. His determination. His loyalty. His love..
I hid in the back corner of the empty, dusted room, hiding from reality. The viscous, angry world waited for me behind the door I stared at.
We feared of monsters under our beds, until we grew up realizing they were inside us..
I want to break out. Run into the night, into the dark woods with the moon light on my face. I want the rush. I crave the adrenaline. I want my lungs to burn.
Jordan sat, staring at the innocent old man, Walter, listening to his wise words. He gave him everything. Practically saved his life.
I opened my eyes, staring at blackness, somewhat lethargic from the sleeping pills. "Rey. Reylene?" A familiar voice whispered. "Quinton. Are you here?" I called, digging my fingers into my mattress.
"Ash. Run!" I screamed, as the furry beast chased him through the dark woods. It came out of nowhere through the bushes. I kept myself going ignoring the burning in my lungs, I began to slow.
Bright, beautiful blue eyes. A scar above his eye, another across his cheek. I loved them. I always thought scars were beautiful. Dark hair, pale skin. A strong boy, from a rough childhood.
I felt his teeth dig into my flesh, warm blood oozed down my neck. I relaxed, suddenly at ease. The cold, solid arms let go of of me, gently laying me down on the forest floor.