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message 1: by Emily (last edited Dec 20, 2012 03:51PM) (new)

Emily Irresistible Power
http://www.goodreads.com/story/show/2...

A link to my poetry, if you'd like to take a look: http://www.goodreads.com/story/show/2...

This story is called Subject: Never Forgotten and I would love if you could check it out! http://www.goodreads.com/story/show/3...


message 2: by Emily (new)

Emily Here is the little story/scene thing that I entered in this group's first contest. Please tell me what you guys think! :)

Bullet Bound

The sound of a gunshot booms through the air and pain strikes through my shoulder.

A blue bandana covers the nose and mouth of the man who holds the gun, and at that moment all I want to do is rip the gun from his grungy hands and fire at him myself.

The breath is knocked out of me and sticky red blood streams down my arm from where the bullet made contact with my skin. A faint scream escapes my lips and my knees collapse beneath me, sending me down to the dirt covered ground.

A black mist coats my vision and I am left seeing the blur of heavy brown boots, scuffing the dirt as they move farther away from me. With each suffocating breath that I huff, my heavy eyelids beg to fall and close over my deep brown eyes.

A steady stream of clear water trickles from polished rocks, forming a cascade filled with peace and beauty.

A flash of silky chestnut brown hair sways and catches in the sunlight. A girl sits on a rock, just beside the little waterfall, in this amazing scene of tranquility, which could only be a dream.

That girl is me.

No one is in sight.

No one will disturb me ever again.

Birds chirp lovely songs overhead, flying freely without a care, and a breeze swoops by that makes me lightheaded with serenity. Could this heavenly place only be a dream?


Beep, beep, beep… My eyes flutter open to a white ceiling and bright fluorescent lights. Beep, beep, beep… What is that? I turn to look around and a spearing pain shoots through my head, leaving my temples throbbing. The smell of disinfectant seeps into my nose and mouth.

The hospital.

I am lying in a bed, surrounded by a blue curtain, and accompanied with a heart monitor which beeps each time I feel a thud in my chest, which is my heart beating.

Alive.

That is what I am.

I’m alive.

A sudden coldness overcomes my body, and I feel as though I was dipped into a tub of ice cold water. I start to shiver uncontrollably and the beeping noise that I hear starts to slow.

Is my heart slowing down?

No. Please, no.

Why am I so cold?

Somebody help! I want to shout, but I can’t even open my dried mouth.

Suddenly, a soft layer of heat replaces the freezing that I felt. My skin turns warm, and my heart warms also. I can feel the cotton fabric of a blanket pressed under my chin, covering all the way to my toes.

I am not dipped into a tub of water.

I am dry.

I am alive.

I am thankful for whoever is taking care of me.

But now I remember why I am here, and why I need to be taken care of.

I was shot.


message 3: by [deleted user] (new)

Amazing Emily! This was so good!

Only tip would be to watch your order of events... you have a few things happening out of order which can be confusing for your readers. Example: your character would probably have screamed after the pain but before seeing the blood... the scream would be an involuntary reaction to the pain... does that make sense?

But this is so great, I want to read more!


message 4: by Emily (new)

Emily Allie wrote: "Amazing Emily! This was so good!

Only tip would be to watch your order of events... you have a few things happening out of order which can be confusing for your readers. Example: your character w..."


Perfect sense. Thank you. I love all the tips and critique I can get!


message 5: by [deleted user] (new)

I agree with Allie. It's a good story, but the order of events are a little mixed up. At the start, I don't think your character would have time to want to rip the gun from the man's hands before she reacted to the pain.


message 6: by Emily (new)

Emily Is this better:

The sound of a gunshot booms through the air and pain strikes through my shoulder.

A faint scream escapes my lips and my knees collapse beneath me, sending me down to the dirt covered ground.

The breath is knocked out of me and sticky red blood streams down my arm from where the bullet made contact with my skin.

A blue bandana covers the nose and mouth of the man who holds the gun, and at that moment all I want to do is rip the gun from his grungy hands and fire at him myself.



message 7: by [deleted user] (new)

I think that works, though if it were me, I'd probably be focused more on the pain then on how angry I am at the guy.
Just a thought.


message 8: by [deleted user] (new)

I agree with Livvy. You could add a sentence like, "Anger at the gunman strikes me just as the bullet does." or something. But I wouldn't put in much more.


message 9: by [deleted user] (new)

I think it's perfect Emily!

Everyone has different pain tolerance and everyone reacts to events differently. Although I've never been shot (knock on wood), I do know that I react to pain with anger so your character's actions are believable to me, but may not be to others who view pain differently.

It's up to you to decide because the piece isn't long enough for the reader to get a real sense of who your character is and whether they would really react like that.


message 10: by Emily (new)

Emily Thanks guys!


message 11: by Emily (last edited Jul 05, 2012 01:22PM) (new)

Emily Entry for the Second Contest. Please tell me your thoughts! :)

Cascading Catastrophe

I could feel the cotton fabric rub against the bridge of my nose and ruffle my long brown eyelashes. The fabric pressed closer on my eyelids as the handkerchief tightened at the back of my head. A muggy breeze came from the opened window of the little car I was seated in, and tickled my flushed cheeks.

Don’t worry, I’m not being kidnapped by a stranger who’s on the border line of insane — I’m with Colton; the complete opposite.

“You ready, Ellie?” Colton’s voice sounded close to my ear. The corners of my lips tugged into a smile at the sound of his warm, sweet voice. Two hands took my wrists and pulled upward, lifting me up from the passenger seat. It wasn’t a harsh pull. It was careful — almost graceful. “I’m going to pick you up for a second, is that okay?”

I could feel pebbles pressing into the underside of my feet, through my worn sandals as I stood upright. I had no idea where we were. I had the blindfold on during the entire car ride, and Colton had tightened it on my face again once we had parked. All I could see was blackness, but I knew that my boyfriend would lead my way safely.

I nodded lightly in answer to his question, and then my feet flew up off the ground and strong arms held my body.

“Trust me, Ellie. I won’t drop you. I love you.”

“I love you,” I whispered. I could hear waves of water tumbling onto shore, and I could smell seaweed and grainy sand. I bounced lightly in Colton’s arms with each step that he took forward. It sounded as if he was walking on a dock.

I felt myself being lowered, and then I was seated on a wooden surface. The handkerchief was lifted from my eyes and the blackness cleared to light. I looked around and took in my surroundings. I sat in a canoe with wooden paddles by my side. Clear blue water floated all around me and Colton, sloshing on the sides of the canoe as it rocked from side to side with our weight.

Colton sat on the little seat across from me and grabbed both paddles and stuck them in the water. “I’ll row, while you relax and enjoy the peace.”

Everything seemed perfect. The sun was beating down on us, and birds chirped overhead without a care in the world. The surface of the water glistened and sparkled as our canoe calmly cut through the ripples of water, caused by the serene breeze.

This could possibly be the best date I’ve ever been on, I thought as I gazed at Colton who sat on the other side of the canoe, facing me. I took in his beautiful brown hair and breath-taking hazel eyes.

It could have been perfect, until it wasn’t…

“What’s that noise?” I asked. “It sounds like—” I stopped talking abruptly when I noticed Colton’s eyes widen magnificently with fear, his gaze over my shoulder. “What’s wrong?” I turned my head to look behind me. Rushing waves of water flowed at an incredible speed down the horizon. The river stopped going forward from there that I could see, so the only place it could have flowed would be…down.

A waterfall. That was the noise I had heard.

Our canoe was right in line with the downfall of water and it twisted out of control in the currents of surging water. It was only a matter of seconds before we would be part of that waterfall.

Before I could even react to what was going to happen, Colton picked me up and tossed me out of the boat, in the direction closer to land. I heard his voice before I went under the water: “Swim.”

So I swam. I swam hard against currents and I swam strong for the sake of Colton telling me to.

I finally pulled myself up onto grassy land, my sopping wet body aching from swimming for my life. Everything had happened so fast, I couldn’t even wrap my mind around it. I didn’t want to wrap my mind around it. Colton had saved me, but hadn’t had time to save himself before he went over the waterfall. It made my heart ache to know that he thought of me first in a moment of panic, and maybe he even died for it, too. I tried to push the thought of death out of my head just as soon as it had come.

A boardwalk stood over some marshland not too far away, and a wooden staircase went downward beside the ledge of the waterfall, for tourists to observe what nature had created. I rung out the water from my sundress and ran to the stairs. I hastily descended them, almost out of my mind with fear. Tears sprung from my eyes and my heart was in my throat. Colton had to be down there. He just had to be. All I could have done was hoped.

The scenery changed as I got to the bottom of the stairs. Mist and fog swirled all around, and only a dim sun shone through the branches of a lone tree. The sand was a mess and littered with unwanted seaweed. Colton’s canoe was washed up on the shore, just a few feet in front of me. There was no sign of my boyfriend. Then something caught my eye, floating on the murky water’s surface: the handkerchief Colton had used as a blindfold to bring me here. I cursed that handkerchief for starting what had happened, and for being the last thing to declare that my love was gone. I let out a loud whimper and cried into my hands, my knees collapsing into the rough sand beneath me.


message 12: by [deleted user] (new)

I am just amazed at your understanding of story structure and how you can bring things full circle so perfectly.

There are a few spelling mistakes and it's current not currant (currant is a dried fruit)


message 13: by [deleted user] (new)

You just had to make me all sad like that. :'( That's so upsetting! You did a really good job on this one. I lovehate it. Love the writing, hate the sadness.


message 14: by Emily (last edited Jun 27, 2012 04:05PM) (new)

Emily I'll fix those mistakes! Thank you Allie!

And Ashlyn, I hate sad things too :(
But thank you for liking it aswell! :)


message 15: by [deleted user] (new)

I hate sad things, but I write about them too:/

And you're welcome!


message 16: by Emily (new)

Emily Ashlyn wrote: "I hate sad things, but I write about them too:/

And you're welcome!"


Yeah, I find stories are mostly interesting if sad things happen to turn things all around.


message 17: by [deleted user] (new)

Agreed.


message 18: by [deleted user] (new)

Awesome job Emily:) (Is is bad that I enjoy making myself cry?)


message 19: by Emily (new)

Emily Thanks, Livvy. Aww, you cried?


message 20: by [deleted user] (new)

I did. Very, very touching:)


message 21: by Emily (new)

Emily Thanks :)


message 22: by Emily (last edited Jul 16, 2012 02:09PM) (new)

Emily Entry for the third contest. Please tell me what you think. Thanks!

A Forbidden Destiny

“Tristan! Don’t go in there. The Master’s just waiting for you.” I pulled his arm back to me before he could turn the knob on the giant wooden doors.

The bright sun had made it impossible for me to get a good look at the expression on Tristan’s face, and the typical lovely sound of the birds singing had begun to irritate the nerves inside my stomach.

“There’s no avoiding it, Laurel,” Tristan said weakly, his eyes glued to the ground. I hated that he couldn’t even look me in the eyes, at a time that I needed to see him the most. We both had a bad feeling about what was going to happen today.

He tugged his arm out of my grip and entered the Master’s castle. I had no choice but to follow. The heavy doors made the loudest creaking sound as they slowly opened, spilling sunlight upon the red carpet, lined with villagers in their fancy clothing and gossiping mouths. The chatter amongst the crowd faded to an uncomfortable silence as they all turned to stare at us.

At the very back of the overpopulated room sat the Master on his throne, wearing an ugly velvet robe and a golden crown that declared his royalty and the power that he held over all of the villagers.

His mighty voice boomed as he called upon my best friend. My one love.

“Tristan Calloway, please come forward.”

The doors slammed shut, making everyone jump, and the only sound anyone could hear for several agonizing seconds was the heavy stomp of Tristan’s boots on the carpeted alley.

“You do know why you are here today, don’t you, Tristan?” The Master’s voice was mocking, and it made me grind my teeth until tears formed behind my brown eyes.

Tristan barely nodded as he stood directly in front of the Master. I shifted more to the right from where I stood by the entrance, so I could see the both of them.

“I know that you understand the rules of my kingdom, but what I don’t understand is why you chose to disobey them,” the Master said as he gripped the sides of his throne. His unwavering devil’s gaze seemed to burn holes through Tristan’s bowed head of golden-brown hair. “Look at me, boy!” he bellowed.

There was another eerie silence, and someone in the crowd coughed. I swallowed thickly.

He continued when Tristan’s head unwillingly rose. “You, Tristan Calloway, disobeyed my order to stay in the perimeter of this kingdom. Not only did you break that one rule, but you went outside of the kingdom with Laurel Ambrose.”

I flinched as I heard my name and the Master’s black eyes darted to me. I felt beads of sweat drip down the back of my neck as all the heads faced me, but Tristan’s back stayed turned towards the throne.

I thought back to when the law of not being able to be alone with the opposite gender was announced. That was when Tristan had the idea to take off. I had agreed. We loved each other. So much that we broke the rules of the kingdom and fled town. We’d only been gone for five hours before the police had found us and brought us back to the awful village that I would now always call home.

The Master’s voice brought me back to the present. “Laurel will not be punished, as we have found out that it was your idea, Tristan, to flee the village. You have broken two of my laws in such a short period of time, and that does not sit well with me. I’m afraid that you will have to be incarcerated.”

With a flick of his hand, two guards grabbed each of Tristan’s arms and tugged him to the side of the castle’s room. An alcove was present in the back corner and my heart was thrown into the little area along with Tristan.

I ran to the alcove, crying out for them not to lock him up. Before I could reach Tristan’s hand, black ropes swooped in between us. The ropes were ragged and dangerous to touch. They slithered and wrapped around the entrance to the alcove.

I caught Tristan’s sad eyes with my water-filled gaze before the last black rope tightened in the gap. I pounded and pounded on the secured wall of ragged rope, but only ended up with bloody fists.

I would never see him again, and the thought weakened me. I dared a glance at the Master who now stood tall in front of his throne. He had no soul as a smile stretched across his foul face.

I have never hated Master Calloway as much as I did then. I would never, ever forgive him for what he did to my best friend, and his own son.


message 23: by [deleted user] (new)

Fabtastic XD I love the girl's name.


message 24: by Emily (new)

Emily Thanks :)


message 25: by [deleted user] (new)

Emily.
Emily.
Are you listening?
Well, if you are, then stop, because you're not gonna hear anything. This is a typed message.
Write a book.
Like, a novel book.
Because I would read it.
And it would be awesome.
End of story.


message 26: by [deleted user] (new)

Ashlyn wrote: "Emily.
Emily.
Are you listening?
Well, if you are, then stop, because you're not gonna hear anything. This is a typed message.
Write a book.
Like, a novel book.
Because I would read it.
And it woul..."


I agree Ashlyn... I agree!


message 27: by [deleted user] (new)

Yuss *brofist*


message 28: by Emily (last edited Jul 19, 2012 06:41AM) (new)

Emily Ashlyn wrote: "Emily.
Emily.
Are you listening?
Well, if you are, then stop, because you're not gonna hear anything. This is a typed message.
Write a book.
Like, a novel book.
Because I would read it.
And it woul..."


Aw your making me almost cry (happy tears)! haha, thank you so much :) I'm actually planning to write what I hope'll turn into a novel!


message 29: by [deleted user] (new)

Is it that one you were talking to me about? If so, I am very happy you are turning it into a novel... I think your writing peers here would like it very much!

And Ashlyn, I am old and very uncool so I do not know what a 'brofist' is but I assume it is similar to a 'fistbump'? ;)


message 30: by Emily (new)

Emily Allie B wrote: "Is it that one you were talking to me about? If so, I am very happy you are turning it into a novel... I think your writing peers here would like it very much!

And Ashlyn, I am old and very uncool..."


Yeah, it's the one I asked you which POV would work. And thank you!


message 31: by [deleted user] (new)

If you write a book (which I would totally read) send it to Amazon. They're constantly publishing random peoples writing, and I've seen books that were just plain awful (grammar, story line, ext. ext.) and yours would totally top theirs. So write a book:)


message 32: by [deleted user] (last edited Jul 19, 2012 02:17PM) (new)

Haha, yeah. Brofist=fistbump


message 33: by Emily (new)

Emily Livvy [loves Leo Valdez+Primrose Everdeen] wrote: "If you write a book (which I would totally read) send it to Amazon. They're constantly publishing random peoples writing, and I've seen books that were just plain awful (grammar, story line, ext. e..."

Cool! Do they publish it into a paperback novel or an ebook?


message 34: by [deleted user] (new)

Ebook, I think. I'm not sure if they do paperback books.


message 35: by [deleted user] (new)

Amazon does ebooks directly to Kindle but Createspace (which is owned by Amazon) does POD books <-- Print on Demand.

Be cautious when publishing with Amazon and do your research... for the most part it is fine but they do offer some services that are not author-friendly. They are a corporation and are concerned mostly with making money. They are also exclusive meaning Amazon ebooks can ONLY be read on a Kindle, so those without a Kindle can't read your book.

Most importantly... make sure you ALWAYS maintain the rights to your work... always.


message 36: by [deleted user] (last edited Jul 20, 2012 10:18AM) (new)

That is all very true. *points at Allie B's comment*


message 37: by Emily (new)

Emily My entry for the sixth contest!

Unintentionally Wounded, Unexpectedly Saved

Paisley sat on a step of an old cement staircase on the shore. She gazed upon the rolling waves on the beautiful blue surface of the ocean. The water glimmered, catching glints of the setting sun. She admired her long tan legs and wiggled her toes on her smooth feet. She knew they wouldn’t last for long.

Paisley stood on the edge of the damp stair where she had been seated. Seaweed and dried salt from the waves coated the staircase, making it look grungy. Then she slowly walked into the sea, and paused when she was in waist-deep. She took a long look over the horizon, where the sun was setting in an orange and yellow atmosphere, and she took in the beautiful sky of the earth.

She then dove into the murky water; a cooling sensation surrounded her body.

She swam deeper,

deeper,

deeper,

until purple scales twisted over her legs and formed an iridescent tail.

The tail of a mermaid.

Opening her mouth under water, she sucked in a refreshing breath. That’s when she realized that she’d forgotten about her little sister, Alba. There was a battle against the mermaid tribes that day and Paisley was supposed to look after her sister and keep her safe and out of trouble. As she reached closer to her home, she saw that the battle had already begun.

Oh, Alba better not be close to the battle, Paisley thought frantically as she swam faster.

She was so caught up in looking for Alba that she didn’t notice when a shimmering gold pitchfork came plunging through the water in her direction until it was too late.

She had wandered into the battle zone.

She didn’t even have time to move before the pitchfork jabbed into the left side of her violet scaled tail. The pain shocked her out of her thoughts as she tumbled onto the sandy earth beneath her. Paisley tried to pull the weapon out of her sore tail, but she had no strength left in her. She lay curled in a ball, her hand gripping the weapon, paralyzed with fear and pain. Just before her eyelids slowly closed over her deep green eyes, she saw the silhouette of a merman who kneeled down by her side and a flash of a green fabric. That’s when unconsciousness took over.

Paisley’s eyes fluttered open, and she sat up quickly, startled by the different atmosphere. The last she remembered, she was under water, and it was night. Now, the bright sun stung her pupils and grainy sand rubbed against her body uncomfortably. She looked down, and saw her two legs. Someone must have brought her up to shore.

But who? she wondered.

She would have been worrying if Alba was okay and how she had gotten on land, but an agonizing, brutal pain distracted her mind. Her left thigh had a green bandana wrapped around it, stained with her blood. She ran her fingers gently across it; the bandana from the merman who’d saved her.


message 38: by Emily (last edited Aug 08, 2012 12:42PM) (new)

Emily My entry for the seventh contest. Please let me know what you think!

Farther Than the Moon

“It’s beautiful, Jack,” I gasped.

My right eye was pressed to the glass of my brother’s telescope, as I gazed upon an enlarged moon, shining at midnight. The craters and shapes were very distinguished like nothing I’ve ever seen from the naked eye.

I pulled my head back and squinted at the black sky, away from the telescope.

“Looking from here just doesn’t do it justice, eh Jack?” I said to my older brother when I heard his footsteps appear at my side.

“No, Lilliana, it doesn’t. The moon has a beauty that’s only recognizable up close.” He pulled the telescope to his height and looked out at the sky.

“Soon that’ll be you. You’ll be the one up close and personal with the moon.”

Jack had always been interested with the sky and everything going on up there. It all seemed so mysterious. He aced Astronomy in school, and guess what? Now he’s an astronaut. Just like our father had been. I came to visit Jack at his apartment, and he told me how he would be going to the moon.

“Yeah. That’ll be me,” he said, his tone flat.

“Are you scared? Because of what happened to Dad?”

Our father had been an amazing astronaut, but something went wrong the day his rocket was sent up into space. People had died that day—our dad included. Jack was 17, and I was 12 years old then. That was 9 years ago. We had been devastated at the time, but we’ve moved on. We’ve grown up. I think it had been the hardest on our mom. She still mourned him. I guess that had never dented Jack’s dream of becoming an astronaut himself. My brother’s strong, but I was worried.

Jack didn’t answer.

I breathed an awkward laugh to break the silence. “Of course you’re not scared. Nothing ever fazes you.”

“I’m doing this for dad, Lilliana.” His voice hardened and become serious. He stood tall by the rail of the balcony.

A cool breeze swept through the night and goose bumps settled on my arms.

I didn’t know how to respond so I nodded slowly after a heavy silence fell again. I then stepped through the sliding glass door, back into my brother’s apartment.

***

Today was the day that Jack launched for his mission to the moon.

“Good luck,” I whispered into his chest as he held me in his arms.

Tears slid down my face. I honestly didn’t want him to go. I thought that it would be okay when he told me about it, but now seeing him getting ready to take off made me think of what had happened to Dad. I didn’t want to lose both of them that way. But Jack and I both knew that I couldn’t have stopped him.

“Bye,” Jack said into my ear.

“Don’t say that,” I whimpered. “It’s not final. I’m going to see you again soon.” My voice was on the verge of panic.

“See you soon, Lil,” Jack corrected himself and squeezed me again before leaving me.

There had been a sound in his voice when he had said it that didn’t seem so sure.

That night I lay awake for hours in my dark room, worrying about my brother. Eventually sleep and stress caught up to me and unconsciousness took over.

I am a little girl with my long brown hair, wearing a cute little white dress. Wasn’t I just 21 years old? This is a dream.

I wear a woven crown of leaves on my head, and the world slowly turns into multiple stars and galaxies all around me.

“Jack would love this,” I think to myself as I gaze at all the colors and stars.

I reach out to one that shines the brightest and I grab it in my left hand. A smaller version of the moon. I can hold it. I can control it. It is mine.

Suddenly, someone appears before me, his hand held out. Without a second of hesitation, my empty little hand grabs his.

“Daddy!” I cry out.

“Hi, baby.”

“You’re back.”

“Not forever, hon. Just for now.” He squeezes my hand just as another figure appears beside him.

“Jack!” my little voice squeaks out. “Back from the moon already?”

My brother doesn’t answer me, but instead he says, “I guess this is goodbye for good now, Lil.”

“Why would you say that?” My high pitched voice whines.

Then Jack is hugging me, and I want it to stay like this forever. But something inside of me knows it won’t.


Then I woke up, and everything was too black, too silent, and too…empty.

All of a sudden the phone rang, alarming my sleepy body. I glanced at the clock. 3:30am. The ringing of the phone sounded dull, lifeless, and dreadful, and all at once I felt a twistingly sick feeling in the pit of my stomach.

That was when I burst into tears. It seemed as if the salty drops of liquid would flood my bedroom until I floated in them, and I would keep floating higher and higher, all the way up to the brilliant moon in the sky. There, I would look at it, touch it, and force myself not to feel a thing.

I never knew if Jack went on that rocket to outer space because it was what he’d dreamed of doing since he was a little kid…his passion—or if he did it to show how strong he could be for our father. Now, I guess I’d never know.


message 39: by Emily (last edited Oct 25, 2012 12:48PM) (new)

Emily My contest entry for the eighth contest.
Please tell me what you think, if anything was confusing, any errors, anything I can improve on. Constructive criticism is welcome! Thank you. :)


Let Me Go


Never let me go.

Whispers echo through my head as my arms and legs become numb as I lay awake in my bed.

Never let go. I visualize Cody’s face before my eyes. These are the words me and my boyfriend say to each other.

My vision is hazy as I stare at the ceiling, like I’m seeing through someone else’s eyes.

Never…

I suddenly sit up pin straight in my bed, the sheets falling around my stomach and legs. This action confuses me because I didn’t use my own will to do it.

Without my desire, I slip out of bed and stand unbalanced on the cool hard wood floor.

I am being controlled.

I thought we would never let go.

The words that whisper through my head seem odd because I’m not the one thinking them. It’s Cody’s voice that is bouncing around in my mind.

Are you listening to me, Kaylee?

My heart beats hard in my chest as a shock of surprise rings through my veins.

“Cody?” I whisper in the quiet of my dark room.

You let me go.

Before I can even wrap my brain around what’s going on, my body unwillingly runs down the hall and out the back door of my house. Cody’s possessing me.

“How—” I begin, but then my mouth is clamped shut by the force of Cody’s energy occupying my body.

Don’t ask questions. Just keep walking.

The damp air of the night makes goose bumps appear on my skin as I walk down a street in my neighborhood, dressed in a thin pajama top and cotton pants. The October leaves on the trees are all orange, red, and yellow, forming an arch above me.

Suddenly my feet stop moving and my head tilts downward so I see what lies in front of me.

Cody’s body is lying on the side of the road…dead.

Stunned, I take in a sharp breath. “C-Cody? Wh-wha—”

My throat dries up and tears start to form behind my eyes. There’s blood seeping from my boyfriend’s stomach and his green eyes are glazed over, staring unseeingly upward.

All at once, the air becomes too thick and my head starts to spin. It seems as if all of the crispy red leaves on the gravel transform into puddles of crimson red blood around Cody’s body, filling the length of the street. This has to be a nightmare, but by the heavy beating in my chest, I know that it’s not.

A stained hatchet and a Halloween mask lie next to him.

It’s too much.

This is all too much.

All I want to do is fall to my knees and sob, but Cody’s soul doesn’t allow me to.

“Wh-who did this to you?” I ask, a little too loud, the sound ripping though the hum of the crickets.

He wanted you to see. Cody’s voice sounds vulnerable and ashamed. That’s why I came inside of you; to bring you here.

“How did the killer tell you to get me if you are dead!?” Hysteria is bubbling inside of me now and tears stream down my cheeks, but I don’t feel them. I don’t feel anything.

He’s a ghost, too.

“A ghost killed you? Tha-that’s impossible,” I say, my voice cracking.

Then it dawns on me of who could have done this to Cody. The only person who would want to. The only person I know who had a reason to, and who is dead. A ghost. It feels like an alarm is screaming and pounding in my eardrums with the realization.

My ex-boyfriend did this.

My lips quiver from the memory of Hunter. He died last year in a car accident.

Cody uses his power over my actions, and I walk to the mask beside his body and pick it up. Turning it around in my hands, I see printing scrabbled across the back in a black marker; if I can’t have you, no one can. –Hunter.

I was right.

“You jealous jerk!” I shout up at the black sky. “Why couldn’t you leave us alone!?”

Feeling abruptly comes back to my numbed arms and legs, and a weight feels like it’s been lifted off of my body.

I sense a heartbreaking pull as a shimmering transparent silhouette emerges from my chest and floats beside me. Cody’s spirit suddenly illumes in a blinding light and disappears before my eyes.

I’m letting go, Kaylee. Goodbye.

I gasp, defeated, and am left in a bitter chill with only the sound of rustling leaves against the gravel sidewalks to keep me company.

In a late response to my screeching at Hunter, the Halloween mask lifts from my hands by an invisible force, almost like there is no gravity, and a haunting, deep laugh booms in my ears; a laugh that shouldn’t sound like Hunter, but somehow fits.

As the mask fades high into the sky behind the mist of fog, so does the evil laughter of a murdering spirit.

Please let me know if you have any suggestions about the title, because I'm not sure if the one I have fits good, or if it could be better?


message 40: by [deleted user] (new)

Wow, really great job, Emily! In my opinion, you're improving as a writer. Just the right amount of description and drama. And I really love this line: I gasp, defeated, and am left in a bitter chill with only the sound of rustling leaves against the gravel sidewalks to keep me company.

Personally, I think the title suits. I can't think of anything better haha.


message 41: by Grace, Head Moderator (new)

Grace (fictionaladventures) | 896 comments Mod
Emily wrote: "My contest entry for the eighth contest.
Please tell me what you think, if anything was confusing, any errors, anything I can improve on. Constructive criticism is welcome! Thank you. :)


Let Me ..."


Whispers echo through my head as my arms and legs become numb as I lay awake in my bed. This sentence needs revising. You have two places you transition using "as" and it makes it awkward-sounding.

Without my desire, I slip out of bed and stand unbalanced on the cool hard wood floor. I think a comma needs to go between "cool" and "hard"

“A ghost killed you? Tha-that’s impossible,” I say, my voice cracking. Instead of "say" I would use something like "sob" here.

As the mask fades high into the sky behind the mist of fog, so does the evil laughter of a murdering spirit. I don't think "evil" here is necessary. It makes sense without it, and makes it sound less cheesy.

Overall, I thought this was an amazing idea! I just think it needs a little work, but it was mostly pretty spectacular. I just think it was a little dramatic and unrealistic that the dead ex-boyfriend would kill her boyfriend now. It was like some kind of messed up fight over a girl.

Bravo, though. I thought you did really well :)


message 42: by Emily (new)

Emily Ashlyn wrote: "Wow, really great job, Emily! In my opinion, you're improving as a writer. Just the right amount of description and drama. And I really love this line: I gasp, defeated, and am left in a bitter chi..."

Thank you! :)


message 43: by Emily (new)

Emily Destiny wrote: "Emily wrote: "My contest entry for the eighth contest.
Please tell me what you think, if anything was confusing, any errors, anything I can improve on. Constructive criticism is welcome! Thank you..."


Thank you for the review! I agree with what you said, and I'll fix those things. :)


message 44: by Emily (new)

Emily So, I just finished uploading my short-ish story about two best friends that reconnect by email after being apart for 3 years, and they realize things about the other that they haven't really realized before.
It's called Subject: Never Forgotten, and I would really love it if you guys could read it and comment or like it to let me know if my writing is getting better. :)
Here's the link. Click away! http://www.goodreads.com/story/show/3...


message 45: by Emily (last edited Jun 14, 2013 11:39AM) (new)

Emily I just wrote this poem, The Jar of Wishes , and I feel proud of it. What do you think about it?


Sam~~ we cannot see the moon, and yet the waves still rise~~ | 10 comments Emily wrote: "I just wrote this poem,
The Vile Vial
, and I feel really proud of it. What do you think about it?"


i actually really, really like it.


message 47: by Emily (new)

Emily Thank you! I changed the title of it, by the way.


message 48: by Emily (new)

Emily Here is my short story for the 13th contest! Any reviews and constructive criticism is very much appreciated! :)

An Everlasting Farewell

Melina’s porcelain skin is unflawed, rid of scars, and only radiates peace. But how can it when it witnessed so much— felt so much? Her eyelashes seem to flutter, hopefully meaning that her eyes are moving, are going to be opened, but no. It’s just the stir of the stale air brushing against her face from the fan in the corner of the small hospital room. There is only a blank face— an empty white canvas, unaware of anything.

Static. That is all her mind is. Does she have any thoughts floating around her brain right now? Is she even capable of really thinking— knowing? If there is any brain activity, all that it can be focused on is the steady hum of the machines attached to her still body. The hum is overlapped by a passive beep, beep, beep. Her heartbeat. If you can even call it that. Does she know she is living on artificial life? Can she feel it? No emotion. No answer. Don’t expect one.

A sensational feeling of disconnection drifts through the atmosphere of the stuffy room. Melina’s porcelain skin is still unflawed, still rid of scars, and still only radiates peace. But now with only one difference. Blue. Ocean blue eyes stare at something in the same room— someone. Wait, there is yet another difference. It is not the lifeless Melina’s face that looks. That Melina is motionless and emotionless, lying in a hospital bed. This Melina with wide open blue eyes is a spirit. Her own spirit. She looks from her weightless arms and hands to her physical body beside her. The face of her spirit crumples as it looks upon herself in a coma.

Her spirit moves— glides to all sides of the room, frantic with the thoughts and emotion that are now able to flood her brain. Yet her brain is still unreal— still connected to the artificial life. It will never be the same again. Spirit Melina struggles to remember what happened. Struggles to remember anything. But it is to no avail.

Suddenly there is noise outside the door to the hospital room. She can hear voices on the other side of the door. She stands in the middle of the room, too afraid to go and see what is happening, too afraid she will be seen, even though she knows she won’t be. She’s just a spirit— invisible. She glances at her physical body with blankets pulled up to her chest, undisturbed. Then she carefully puts her ear to the door and listens to the conversation in the hallway.

“Sorry, sir, but I can’t let you go in. Visiting hours are over.”

“But you don’t understand. I have to see her.”

Spirit Melina sucks in an unneeded breath. That voice. The voice of a boy so very familiar.

The metallic door knob rattles violently.

“It’s locked, sir. Come on, you can’t be down this hall at this time.”

The sound of two sets of footsteps fade as they walk away.

Something surges through Melina’s spirit figure as she realizes that the boy with the familiar voice is leaving. She grabs the door knob and tries to twist it open but nothing happens. Her hand slips right through it.

She rolls her eyes at herself. “Duh,” she whispers as she passes through the door without opening it.

She stares at the backs of a nurse and a boy with shaggy brown hair. The boy slowly walks towards the elevators as the nurse branches off into the nurses’ office, taking off the chain of keys from around her neck and puts it on the desk. The boy glances behind him once the nurse goes into a room in the back, and he runs over to the desk.

That’s when Spirit Melina gets a look at his face. It all comes back to her; the smell of a double-shot mocha drink, him bringing her one, too; wrapping up in his Varsity jacket when she gets cold; noticing how hard it is for him to find the right words to say to her, especially about how he feels; him wearing his heart on his sleeve, and giving it to her.

“Kellan?” Her hand flies to her heart and feels it flutter under her touch. Can her being near him make her wake up from all of this?

Kellan snags the chain of several keys and hurries to Melina’s hospital room door. He rushes right past her spirit, not noticing her. She doesn't expect him to. He frantically tries many keys in the lock and none of them work. He lets out a frustrated breath and Spirit Melina feels the obstruction, too.

Finally he gets the right key and flings into her room after looking to make sure the coast is clear. Spirit Melina rushes in with him as well. He silently shuts the door and locks it from the inside.

He hesitantly makes his way to her bedside and stares down at her face. Her beautiful face. “Oh, Melina.” He touches her blonde hair that acts almost as a halo, spread out over the pillow behind her head and shoulders.

“Kellan,” Spirit Melina chokes out in a perishing voice. The beep, beep, beep on the monitor slows and her vision grows fuzzy. His presence is not helping her wake up. It’s worse now.

The heartbeat on the machine goes to a flat line and a monotone sound echoes through the room.

Kellan grabs the hand of Melina’s physical body as her spirit fades.

“Goodbye,” her spirit figure manages to mumble to her body, to her boyfriend, to her life. Yet she gets no response, no goodbye.

Why is she the only one to say goodbye to the things that she cares the most about? Doesn't anyone consider her as something they care most about? She fades and fades until she’s eventually nonexistent. She’s on her way to the great beyond, dragging the sun beneath the clouds as she goes.

“Melina, no. Please.” Kellan hits the machine, hoping it’s some kind of mistake. He sits on the bed and leans over Melina’s dead body and hugs her. Tears fall from his eyes and drip onto her ashen skin. “I know I should have come sooner. I know. Please forgive me. I love you, Melina. Goodbye.”

The spoken farewell is overdue and unheard. It falls flat. It’s too late for the words to be sucked into open, listening, begging ears. Melina does not hear her goodbye, but she feels it. The feeling of Kellan’s goodbye is everlasting.


message 49: by Emily (new)

Emily It would be sweet if you guys could check out my writing on Wattpad!: http://wattpad.com/the_wasteland

(I recently deleted my writing from here on Goodreads and moved it to Wattpad -- just because you can't copy and paste on Wattpad, so I feel that it's more safe -- so you can read it there with the updates!)


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