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We are a literary agency seeking fresh talent. In 200 words or more, demonstrate your writing talent. We will be in touch with any and all promising participants throughout the rest of this quarter.
Written by KeKi_Ayres

I need a nap and a timeout.

As a parent, and of course as an adult, I have come to realize the irony of certain sayings and actions geared toward children that would greatly help out the adult world.

For example, there is the saying, “Everything I needed to know I learned in Kindergarten”. Everything? Come on, really? Then why were we tortured with another 12 years of school just to graduate. Why are we not out working or in college at the age of six (child labor laws aside)? If there was nothing else to know, we should all just truly give in, give up, and – you get the idea.

Another issue is the whole nap ritual. I don't know many 3, 4 or 5 year olds that truly relish the thought of a daily nap. I have seen children kicking, screaming, and whining just to avoid one. Parents fighting for almost the entire nap time just to get Johnny or Susie to relax is truly ironic because no one in that scenario is the least bit relaxed . The parent looks and feels as if he or she tried to cross a raging river full of crocodiles in the middle of monsoon season. Yet I, as an adult, would absolutely be thrilled at the thought of being able to crawl under my desk with a blanket and pillow for an hour. Unfortunately, I have to settle for 20 cups of coffee, and something sugary, the latter truly as a pacifier, just to make it through my work day.

Moving on to Timeouts. They are punishments for kids, yet for adults would be an absolute bonus. I know many adults and parents that would be thrilled at having time in a corner by themselves without someone demanding attention, time, or even monthly reports. I, myself, have been known to seek refuge in a bathroom while at work to escape the drama that comes with forcing people of various personalities in a space the size of a sardine can with sometimes unrealistic expectations and deadlines.

Adults would greatly benefit from naps and timeouts. Productivity would most likely increase, mental health days decrease, and overall happiness would actually be a possibility if we could take these childhood absolutes for ourselves. But, until we unite and demand these for adults, looks like it is back to navigating the mine field maze of work and parenthood with little rest. What? I have a meeting in 10 minutes, two reports due, the school's nurse on the phone, and the washing machine just flooded the house? Ugh! I need (and desperately want) a nap and a timeout.

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We are a literary agency seeking fresh talent. In 200 words or more, demonstrate your writing talent. We will be in touch with any and all promising participants throughout the rest of this quarter.
Written by KeKi_Ayres
I need a nap and a timeout.
As a parent, and of course as an adult, I have come to realize the irony of certain sayings and actions geared toward children that would greatly help out the adult world.
For example, there is the saying, “Everything I needed to know I learned in Kindergarten”. Everything? Come on, really? Then why were we tortured with another 12 years of school just to graduate. Why are we not out working or in college at the age of six (child labor laws aside)? If there was nothing else to know, we should all just truly give in, give up, and – you get the idea.

Another issue is the whole nap ritual. I don't know many 3, 4 or 5 year olds that truly relish the thought of a daily nap. I have seen children kicking, screaming, and whining just to avoid one. Parents fighting for almost the entire nap time just to get Johnny or Susie to relax is truly ironic because no one in that scenario is the least bit relaxed . The parent looks and feels as if he or she tried to cross a raging river full of crocodiles in the middle of monsoon season. Yet I, as an adult, would absolutely be thrilled at the thought of being able to crawl under my desk with a blanket and pillow for an hour. Unfortunately, I have to settle for 20 cups of coffee, and something sugary, the latter truly as a pacifier, just to make it through my work day.

Moving on to Timeouts. They are punishments for kids, yet for adults would be an absolute bonus. I know many adults and parents that would be thrilled at having time in a corner by themselves without someone demanding attention, time, or even monthly reports. I, myself, have been known to seek refuge in a bathroom while at work to escape the drama that comes with forcing people of various personalities in a space the size of a sardine can with sometimes unrealistic expectations and deadlines.

Adults would greatly benefit from naps and timeouts. Productivity would most likely increase, mental health days decrease, and overall happiness would actually be a possibility if we could take these childhood absolutes for ourselves. But, until we unite and demand these for adults, looks like it is back to navigating the mine field maze of work and parenthood with little rest. What? I have a meeting in 10 minutes, two reports due, the school's nurse on the phone, and the washing machine just flooded the house? Ugh! I need (and desperately want) a nap and a timeout.
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We are a literary agency seeking fresh talent. In 200 words or more, demonstrate your writing talent. We will be in touch with any and all promising participants throughout the rest of this quarter.
Written by Rafaelopezjr

Drinking Buddies

My wrists hurt. My left ankle. Why am I tied. I need to stand. Damp floor. Rough wall on my back.Why am I naked? Why can't I see? Something on my eyes.

We all went out for drinks. It's Friday, after work. Where is everyone?

"Hello! HELLO!!"

Dripping. Basement? How did I get here?

"HELLO!!!"

Where the hell am I? Where are they? This isn't funny!

"If you let me go now, I won't press charges."

I've got to get out of here. These ropes are so tight my hands are cold.This isn't real. I have to be asleep.

"Get me out of here!"

From across the room five silhouettes sit staring at the naked flesh.

A three day weekend. The new-hire. Bacchanal! One of them thought.

"Enough of this. Let's begin." One whispered.

"Who's there? What you're doing is against the law. Take these ropes off, immediately."

The five get up from their seats. Naked feet softly approach. A semi-circle of shrouds forms.

"Bacchanal, bacchanal..." Whispering in unison, they drew near. One lit a home made cigarette, took a puff, passed it to the next. This first individual walked to the victim, pressed his mouth to the prisoner's mouth and exhaled.

"Stop this. Don't do this, please!" He wept and coughed uncontrollably. Knew that he would never live to see the dawn...

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We are a literary agency seeking fresh talent. In 200 words or more, demonstrate your writing talent. We will be in touch with any and all promising participants throughout the rest of this quarter.
Written by Rafaelopezjr
Drinking Buddies
My wrists hurt. My left ankle. Why am I tied. I need to stand. Damp floor. Rough wall on my back.Why am I naked? Why can't I see? Something on my eyes.

We all went out for drinks. It's Friday, after work. Where is everyone?

"Hello! HELLO!!"

Dripping. Basement? How did I get here?

"HELLO!!!"

Where the hell am I? Where are they? This isn't funny!

"If you let me go now, I won't press charges."

I've got to get out of here. These ropes are so tight my hands are cold.This isn't real. I have to be asleep.

"Get me out of here!"

From across the room five silhouettes sit staring at the naked flesh.

A three day weekend. The new-hire. Bacchanal! One of them thought.

"Enough of this. Let's begin." One whispered.

"Who's there? What you're doing is against the law. Take these ropes off, immediately."

The five get up from their seats. Naked feet softly approach. A semi-circle of shrouds forms.

"Bacchanal, bacchanal..." Whispering in unison, they drew near. One lit a home made cigarette, took a puff, passed it to the next. This first individual walked to the victim, pressed his mouth to the prisoner's mouth and exhaled.

"Stop this. Don't do this, please!" He wept and coughed uncontrollably. Knew that he would never live to see the dawn...
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Juice
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We are a literary agency seeking fresh talent. In 200 words or more, demonstrate your writing talent. We will be in touch with any and all promising participants throughout the rest of this quarter.
Written by MackenzieTyson

Bound to Lies: Chapter one

I’m sitting from the outside looking in. I can feel my body thrashing around and I can hear myself screaming but as I command it to stop, it goes against its orders a continues. The pain is excruciating, like long metal nails being drilled, deep into my skull and sharp knives being shoved down my raw throat.

“Iyla! Wake up! It’s just a dream!” the words pull me to the surface of that ocean of pain and my eyes snap open. It wasn’t a dream though, there wasn’t any image in my head. Just pain. A pain formed in a prison cell, I call sleep.

The first thing I see are my dad’s frightened eyes, and the first thing I feel is his firm grip on my shoulders, there is a dull ache underneath them. And as it all hits me, I burst into tears. He pulls me into a tight hug. My throat is throbbing and it takes me a moment to realize the throbbing is my heart.

“Why is this happening to me?” I ask through afraid sobs.

He strokes my long, sweaty, blond hair as is I’m still eight and kisses my forehead as if I’m still five. I don’t care, I need all the comfort I can get. His voice comes out softly “I don’t know darling.”

I look at his face, wiping away my own tears. His brown eyes look tired and his expression confirms it, “Go to bed dad, you need to rest. Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine,” I lie forcing a small smile.

He nods yet, I can tell he doesn’t want to leave me alone. I don’t want him to leave me alone either. I’m afraid if I fall asleep, I’ll start to drown in that ocean again. And I’m afraid that next time I drown, the sea will take me deep under and I won’t be able to be pulled back up.

As he leaves the room I turn my lamp off and wait until I hear his bedroom door shut.

It all started a year after my mother died, a couple of months after my fifteenth birthday. At first, I started getting nightmares every now and then. Over the course of ten whole months the nightmares have evolved into a sleep that I can’t wake myself from. A sleep so horrible and painful that I swear its worse than death. Every night my dad must wake me up from the living hell I find myself trapped in. I can’t go to sleep overs, school sleep outs or school camps anymore. The worst part is that I don’t even know what’s wrong with me. At first the doctors directed me to a counsellor, saying the cause of the nightmares was likely to be a result of the grief of the loss of my mother.

I know the conclusion that everyone is going to come to. I know that it’s not true but, what else could the answer be. They will think that I am insane, they probably already do. Maybe even my dad, though he wouldn’t want to believe it. I don’t want to believe it either but, I am starting to.

I scramble out of my bed and find my way to the wardrobe, my path lit by the street light stationed outside my window. When we first moved here, I used to find the light extremely annoying however, over the past ten or so months it has become a friend. Constantly it lights the darkness that allows my sleep to swallow me, it also has its other use of which, you will soon find out.

My hands shake as I pull on a pair of jeans and a tank top on. I slip a pair of sneakers on and pull my hair back off, my sweaty neck, into a ponytail. Then I open the window located above my desk, only to be greeted by a soft breeze. The sensation it gives is cool against my sweaty body. Something about sweat seems to make wind stick colder than it is.

I climb up onto my desk while shoving my phone into my back pocket. I then step onto the window sill and support myself by holding onto the curtain rod. I’ve done this many times before now. I remember the first time; I was only fourteen. Fourteen and sneaking out to a party. Since then, my escape route hasn’t changed. I make the meter jump and cling to the pole. Then as I slide down my hands create a soft squeaking noise and the pole threatens me with a shake. I know it won’t fall, as I said I have done this a million times.

My feet hit the grass with a thud, as I look out across the street lit by the moon. The silver sphere in the sky glows a little brighter tonight even though it is only half full. The stars also take my interest proving themselves clear, flawless and plenty now of night, yet, I should really call it morning.

When I sneak out I either do one of two things, slide down the pole or make my way up to the roof. Tonight or… this morning, I really don’t know what I am going to do. I just need to stay awake.

There isn’t much to do at 2am. I find myself wandering aimlessly around my suburb and eventually end up in a park.

Sitting on a wooden bench, I look up once again at the stars. The way they shine, occasionally flickering. The white light they cast across the vast, endless black. There is something so beautiful- so peaceful about them. I search for the star which I named after my mother, right next to the ones that I named after my pop and my first dog. I spot them. They form a small triangle close to the moon. Maria, Joshua and purple. I don’t believe in heaven or hell when someone dies. I just believe that they die hopefully, in peace. In my opinion believing in a God is a complete waste of time. Building up false hopes and only choosing to believe because you can’t make sense of anything, any other way. Not everything needs to make sense. I am not going to live my life putting faith into a hope that something better awaits, I am going to live the one I have got with no- or very little regrets. That is why I try not to let my painful sleeps take over my life… too much.

I let my eyes droop closed and for a moment I almost let myself fall asleep. Thankfully, across the park I hear laughter. My head jerks up and my eyes snap open.

In the distance, I see some lights, as if people are using torches to light their path. It looks like they have stopped and sat down in the middle of the grass field. I get up off the seat and start walking over, ready to investigate. As I move closer I hear a familiar voice.

“Tommy?” I say it only just loud enough so that they will hear.

“Iyla!” cries tommy his voice slurred “Fancy seeing you here.”

I get to their group and someone shines their phone torch right in my face. Which is not appreciated I think, as my eyes to struggle to adjust. I shield them with my hand “Hey. What are you doing here- are you drunk?”

I grab a bottle out of his hand, not noticing anyone else. Bourbon. It’s half empty,

“Mmmhmm,” he says taking the bottle pack and pressing it back to his lips.

“How did you get this?”

He looks at me as if the answer is the most obvious thing in the world “I took it-” He starts laughing then whispers “from David.”

I eye the bottle disapprovingly, the honey substance reflecting the moonlight. His usually overly minty breath now, smells like an alcoholic’s Friday night.

David, is the name of Thomas’ father although, Thomas refuses to act as if David’s related to him at all.

I now take time to look around at the other faces staring at me. Out of all four I only recognise one of them. Zackori.

As our eyes meet he smirks “Iyla.”

I roll my eyes “Piss off. I bet you got him like this?”

“Nope,” His stuck-up smirk stretches into a grin. It makes me want to punch him, if I had the muscle I would “He called me… As usual.”

He lights a cigarette and I grunt in frustration “I told you to stay away from him,” I flick the cigarette out of his hand with my foot and put it out by stomping on it. In return Zac chuckles, as if I am amusing him. Inside I shrink a little but, I don’t show it.

“Fighting over me? I feel fl,” Thomas slurs frowning as the word slips his mind.

“The word is flattered Thomas,” I exclaim.

He giggles “You’re cranky.”

“Iyla no one likes a party shitter. Maybe you should get lost,” Zac says lighting another cigarette and wedges it between his teeth. I look at Tommy expectantly. He’s my best friend, it is his job to stick up for me. All I get is a cheesy grin as if he hasn’t a clue what’s happening.

I snatch Tommy’s bottle of bourbon and storm across the field and, as I do I hear cries of protest and Zac yell at me “Nice seeing you as always but, the angles much better from here!”

I keep walking taking a few swigs, the burn down my throat sore but, satisfying. All comments on my ass are unnecessary and most definitely untrue.

Zac is a person that I have hated for some while now. Tommy just recently came out as gay. His mother was fine with it and had suspected it for ages. His father on the other hand has not been so accepting. I remember the day Tommy told his parents.

“So, my mum just brought this eight-time magnifying mirror to do her eyebrows and like… check for blackheads and stuff. She was telling me about how she used it and couldn’t believe how ugly she looked,” He laughed “If she looked in that mirror and saw ugliness, I’d look in that mirror and feel the need to neck. Oh, my God. I need a facial.”

I snorted “Yeah, you and me both. If you do this today, I’ll shout you.”

The nervousness showed in his eyes though, he had tried to conceal it with a joke by touching his face “I guess I have to then.”

“You don’t have to do this by yourself,” I had said. We were walking home, cutting across a grass field. The exact same one I just saw Tommy at.

“Yes. I do. I have to do it by myself,” He unwrapped a piece of chewing gum and slotted it in his mouth. A habit he had and still has, when he gets nervous or excited.

We had split after that and he had told me that it was the day he would come out to his parents. I waited for three hours expecting a phone call. Finally, there was a frantic knock at the door.

“I’ll get it dad,” I said tucking my chair in. When I opened the door Tommy, burst through in tears “Tommy? Tommy, what happened?”

“What do you think,” he said dumping his suitcase onto the floor. My dad was already out of his chair and standing with us in the hall.

“What happened kiddo?” Dad said picking Tommy’s suitcase up off the ground.

“I got kicked out by my dad!” he wiped away the tears that were creeping down his red, blotchy cheeks.

Dad frowned “He probably didn’t mean it. He loves you, I know it.”

“Then why did he say that he doesn’t know who I am anymore and that, he doesn’t want me living under the same roof as him. Why did I hear him say to my mum that he didn’t raise me to be the way I am? He even got me my suitcase down! He doesn’t love me. He doesn’t love me and I don’t know what to do,” He plunked himself onto the first step of the staircase and buried his face between his knees. Anger boiled with in me but, I didn’t let it show. Instead I wrapped my arms around him, and stroked back his hair.

“He does love you,” I spoke softly, even I didn’t believe my words “He just needs time to get his head around, it alright?”

I looked up at my father who all though hadn’t been let in on anything, knew what was happening. He rushed over as well and put his arms around Tommy and me. We sat there for a while comforting my best friend. Little did we know he would get the way he is now.

He stayed at mine for a week before moving back into his own after that. It was only because his mother had threatened divorce. I’m certain she still wants one. The fighting never ends. I feel like yelling at Mr. White every single time I see his face. Aren’t parents meant to love their children no matter what? He needs to get over himself and be a better father. His one duty is to love and care for his son which he blatantly disregarded.Now, here is the reason I hate Zac. Tom has found ways of coping which I don’t approve. Zac is the one that supplies him with the drugs and the alcohol. Usually, I am fine with other people drinking and getting high, that’s their choice but, not if its someone I truly care about. Not if it’s someone who is trying to take away their own pain. Tommy is one of those people who things anything is better than pain. He cures hangovers with more alcohol. The reason Zac hates me back is because I made it clear to him that I thought/ think he is a complete jerk.

I don’t know how to help Tom anymore. He doesn’t want to be helped and everyone knows you can’t help someone that doesn’t want to be helped. All you can do is sit back and watch...

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We are a literary agency seeking fresh talent. In 200 words or more, demonstrate your writing talent. We will be in touch with any and all promising participants throughout the rest of this quarter.
Written by MackenzieTyson
Bound to Lies: Chapter one
I’m sitting from the outside looking in. I can feel my body thrashing around and I can hear myself screaming but as I command it to stop, it goes against its orders a continues. The pain is excruciating, like long metal nails being drilled, deep into my skull and sharp knives being shoved down my raw throat.
“Iyla! Wake up! It’s just a dream!” the words pull me to the surface of that ocean of pain and my eyes snap open. It wasn’t a dream though, there wasn’t any image in my head. Just pain. A pain formed in a prison cell, I call sleep.
The first thing I see are my dad’s frightened eyes, and the first thing I feel is his firm grip on my shoulders, there is a dull ache underneath them. And as it all hits me, I burst into tears. He pulls me into a tight hug. My throat is throbbing and it takes me a moment to realize the throbbing is my heart.
“Why is this happening to me?” I ask through afraid sobs.
He strokes my long, sweaty, blond hair as is I’m still eight and kisses my forehead as if I’m still five. I don’t care, I need all the comfort I can get. His voice comes out softly “I don’t know darling.”
I look at his face, wiping away my own tears. His brown eyes look tired and his expression confirms it, “Go to bed dad, you need to rest. Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine,” I lie forcing a small smile.
He nods yet, I can tell he doesn’t want to leave me alone. I don’t want him to leave me alone either. I’m afraid if I fall asleep, I’ll start to drown in that ocean again. And I’m afraid that next time I drown, the sea will take me deep under and I won’t be able to be pulled back up.
As he leaves the room I turn my lamp off and wait until I hear his bedroom door shut.
It all started a year after my mother died, a couple of months after my fifteenth birthday. At first, I started getting nightmares every now and then. Over the course of ten whole months the nightmares have evolved into a sleep that I can’t wake myself from. A sleep so horrible and painful that I swear its worse than death. Every night my dad must wake me up from the living hell I find myself trapped in. I can’t go to sleep overs, school sleep outs or school camps anymore. The worst part is that I don’t even know what’s wrong with me. At first the doctors directed me to a counsellor, saying the cause of the nightmares was likely to be a result of the grief of the loss of my mother.
I know the conclusion that everyone is going to come to. I know that it’s not true but, what else could the answer be. They will think that I am insane, they probably already do. Maybe even my dad, though he wouldn’t want to believe it. I don’t want to believe it either but, I am starting to.
I scramble out of my bed and find my way to the wardrobe, my path lit by the street light stationed outside my window. When we first moved here, I used to find the light extremely annoying however, over the past ten or so months it has become a friend. Constantly it lights the darkness that allows my sleep to swallow me, it also has its other use of which, you will soon find out.
My hands shake as I pull on a pair of jeans and a tank top on. I slip a pair of sneakers on and pull my hair back off, my sweaty neck, into a ponytail. Then I open the window located above my desk, only to be greeted by a soft breeze. The sensation it gives is cool against my sweaty body. Something about sweat seems to make wind stick colder than it is.
I climb up onto my desk while shoving my phone into my back pocket. I then step onto the window sill and support myself by holding onto the curtain rod. I’ve done this many times before now. I remember the first time; I was only fourteen. Fourteen and sneaking out to a party. Since then, my escape route hasn’t changed. I make the meter jump and cling to the pole. Then as I slide down my hands create a soft squeaking noise and the pole threatens me with a shake. I know it won’t fall, as I said I have done this a million times.
My feet hit the grass with a thud, as I look out across the street lit by the moon. The silver sphere in the sky glows a little brighter tonight even though it is only half full. The stars also take my interest proving themselves clear, flawless and plenty now of night, yet, I should really call it morning.
When I sneak out I either do one of two things, slide down the pole or make my way up to the roof. Tonight or… this morning, I really don’t know what I am going to do. I just need to stay awake.
There isn’t much to do at 2am. I find myself wandering aimlessly around my suburb and eventually end up in a park.
Sitting on a wooden bench, I look up once again at the stars. The way they shine, occasionally flickering. The white light they cast across the vast, endless black. There is something so beautiful- so peaceful about them. I search for the star which I named after my mother, right next to the ones that I named after my pop and my first dog. I spot them. They form a small triangle close to the moon. Maria, Joshua and purple. I don’t believe in heaven or hell when someone dies. I just believe that they die hopefully, in peace. In my opinion believing in a God is a complete waste of time. Building up false hopes and only choosing to believe because you can’t make sense of anything, any other way. Not everything needs to make sense. I am not going to live my life putting faith into a hope that something better awaits, I am going to live the one I have got with no- or very little regrets. That is why I try not to let my painful sleeps take over my life… too much.
I let my eyes droop closed and for a moment I almost let myself fall asleep. Thankfully, across the park I hear laughter. My head jerks up and my eyes snap open.
In the distance, I see some lights, as if people are using torches to light their path. It looks like they have stopped and sat down in the middle of the grass field. I get up off the seat and start walking over, ready to investigate. As I move closer I hear a familiar voice.
“Tommy?” I say it only just loud enough so that they will hear.
“Iyla!” cries tommy his voice slurred “Fancy seeing you here.”
I get to their group and someone shines their phone torch right in my face. Which is not appreciated I think, as my eyes to struggle to adjust. I shield them with my hand “Hey. What are you doing here- are you drunk?”
I grab a bottle out of his hand, not noticing anyone else. Bourbon. It’s half empty,
“Mmmhmm,” he says taking the bottle pack and pressing it back to his lips.
“How did you get this?”
He looks at me as if the answer is the most obvious thing in the world “I took it-” He starts laughing then whispers “from David.”
I eye the bottle disapprovingly, the honey substance reflecting the moonlight. His usually overly minty breath now, smells like an alcoholic’s Friday night.
David, is the name of Thomas’ father although, Thomas refuses to act as if David’s related to him at all.
I now take time to look around at the other faces staring at me. Out of all four I only recognise one of them. Zackori.
As our eyes meet he smirks “Iyla.”
I roll my eyes “Piss off. I bet you got him like this?”
“Nope,” His stuck-up smirk stretches into a grin. It makes me want to punch him, if I had the muscle I would “He called me… As usual.”
He lights a cigarette and I grunt in frustration “I told you to stay away from him,” I flick the cigarette out of his hand with my foot and put it out by stomping on it. In return Zac chuckles, as if I am amusing him. Inside I shrink a little but, I don’t show it.
“Fighting over me? I feel fl,” Thomas slurs frowning as the word slips his mind.
“The word is flattered Thomas,” I exclaim.
He giggles “You’re cranky.”
“Iyla no one likes a party shitter. Maybe you should get lost,” Zac says lighting another cigarette and wedges it between his teeth. I look at Tommy expectantly. He’s my best friend, it is his job to stick up for me. All I get is a cheesy grin as if he hasn’t a clue what’s happening.
I snatch Tommy’s bottle of bourbon and storm across the field and, as I do I hear cries of protest and Zac yell at me “Nice seeing you as always but, the angles much better from here!”
I keep walking taking a few swigs, the burn down my throat sore but, satisfying. All comments on my ass are unnecessary and most definitely untrue.
Zac is a person that I have hated for some while now. Tommy just recently came out as gay. His mother was fine with it and had suspected it for ages. His father on the other hand has not been so accepting. I remember the day Tommy told his parents.
“So, my mum just brought this eight-time magnifying mirror to do her eyebrows and like… check for blackheads and stuff. She was telling me about how she used it and couldn’t believe how ugly she looked,” He laughed “If she looked in that mirror and saw ugliness, I’d look in that mirror and feel the need to neck. Oh, my God. I need a facial.”
I snorted “Yeah, you and me both. If you do this today, I’ll shout you.”
The nervousness showed in his eyes though, he had tried to conceal it with a joke by touching his face “I guess I have to then.”
“You don’t have to do this by yourself,” I had said. We were walking home, cutting across a grass field. The exact same one I just saw Tommy at.
“Yes. I do. I have to do it by myself,” He unwrapped a piece of chewing gum and slotted it in his mouth. A habit he had and still has, when he gets nervous or excited.
We had split after that and he had told me that it was the day he would come out to his parents. I waited for three hours expecting a phone call. Finally, there was a frantic knock at the door.
“I’ll get it dad,” I said tucking my chair in. When I opened the door Tommy, burst through in tears “Tommy? Tommy, what happened?”
“What do you think,” he said dumping his suitcase onto the floor. My dad was already out of his chair and standing with us in the hall.
“What happened kiddo?” Dad said picking Tommy’s suitcase up off the ground.
“I got kicked out by my dad!” he wiped away the tears that were creeping down his red, blotchy cheeks.
Dad frowned “He probably didn’t mean it. He loves you, I know it.”
“Then why did he say that he doesn’t know who I am anymore and that, he doesn’t want me living under the same roof as him. Why did I hear him say to my mum that he didn’t raise me to be the way I am? He even got me my suitcase down! He doesn’t love me. He doesn’t love me and I don’t know what to do,” He plunked himself onto the first step of the staircase and buried his face between his knees. Anger boiled with in me but, I didn’t let it show. Instead I wrapped my arms around him, and stroked back his hair.
“He does love you,” I spoke softly, even I didn’t believe my words “He just needs time to get his head around, it alright?”
I looked up at my father who all though hadn’t been let in on anything, knew what was happening. He rushed over as well and put his arms around Tommy and me. We sat there for a while comforting my best friend. Little did we know he would get the way he is now.
He stayed at mine for a week before moving back into his own after that. It was only because his mother had threatened divorce. I’m certain she still wants one. The fighting never ends. I feel like yelling at Mr. White every single time I see his face. Aren’t parents meant to love their children no matter what? He needs to get over himself and be a better father. His one duty is to love and care for his son which he blatantly disregarded.Now, here is the reason I hate Zac. Tom has found ways of coping which I don’t approve. Zac is the one that supplies him with the drugs and the alcohol. Usually, I am fine with other people drinking and getting high, that’s their choice but, not if its someone I truly care about. Not if it’s someone who is trying to take away their own pain. Tommy is one of those people who things anything is better than pain. He cures hangovers with more alcohol. The reason Zac hates me back is because I made it clear to him that I thought/ think he is a complete jerk.
I don’t know how to help Tom anymore. He doesn’t want to be helped and everyone knows you can’t help someone that doesn’t want to be helped. All you can do is sit back and watch...

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We are a literary agency seeking fresh talent. In 200 words or more, demonstrate your writing talent. We will be in touch with any and all promising participants throughout the rest of this quarter.
Written by kensu

hanahaki

the sight of petals on fire is a beautiful thing; pink spring's child smothered by gold summer flame. the feel of loose earth in my fists brings me to lie on the ground, wondering if my grave will dig itself before deciding it will not. there are other graves that need digging, other petals that must be burned, curling into wisps of smoke, the touch of windblown ashes like soft kimono silk, like skin. like your skin. 

your skin was the color of newbud sakura, pale and pretty, and you glowed in the sunlight that filtered through paper curtains. i could never bring myself to touch you for more than a second, for you looked like you could break from the slightest scratch. i tried not to like you, i really did. my parents were looking for a someone who could gift a dowry large enough to build a palace, and your parents were looking for someone that could possibly save you. neither of them ever found what they were looking for.

you started to turn yellow right before the stars fell from the sky, raining dirt around us, metal monsters waiting to bite. a neighbor who lived alone died from the iron rain, and the village sent him off on a raft headed to the end of oceans, his blood left a path that trailed sky water. 

when the storm ended, you and i went outside to collect the pellets that brought breathless bodies. you rolled the bullets between your fingers and tied threads around them. we hung them from the cherry blossom tree that overlooked the sea, and let the metal rain hang suspended.

the stars eventually fell again, and you were too tired to go outside and work magic, hold time and blood bullets in place around threads and branches that reached to entwine with the sky. we thought it would be over soon, and it would be. the sun fell next, twice, in fact. one in Hiroshima and one in Nagasaki. everyone felt it shake the earth, tainting the air. there were more people like you after that. people that had to stay in bed and bear with needles in arms, people that there were no cure for.

i brought you flowers and sweets, as if they could cure your sickness, and you laughed and pretended like they did. we drank rice wine, which did nothing but give us toothache from the sugar, and i wondered what it would be like to run my fingers over your skin, i wondered if you would break into a million pieces, into a million bits of metal rain suspended by string. 

the next day, your hair was cut short, like a lifeline. you whispered into my ear desperately, asking me to take you to the mountains. we left before the sun woke up, i dragged you behind me in a makeshift wagon. i nabbed a bottle of sake from my mother, and that was our dinner. you threw it up in the middle of your sleep, and i worried that you might not wake up. 

the mountains had never been too far, only a day's hike, and before night fell, we reached them. i don't know if you wanted to go to the top, or head back home. you stopped breathing before i could ask you, and you were colder than frozen peonies in winter. i never cried harder in my life.

the ground asks me to give you to it. i feel as if i dig my own pit, although it is yours. in the wagon, i find a bag filled with things you never told me about. many, many cloths filled with blood and coughs and painful, breathless nights. a sack with dried flower petals. a paper with ink, and it is not a goodbye note as one might think. it is calligraphy, an old art that we lost with our gods, and the message you wrote is an old one. "with plum blossoms come the new year." the last is a box containing a plum pit. i know you thought cherry blossoms were old and cliche, meant for memories. plum blossoms are of spring and sweet fruit, meant for you. 

when i lower you into the grave, i feel like choking. i feel like a sleepless night spent coughing into a bloody handkerchief and i feel like running away to mountains and vomiting what was supposed to be the best thing i've ever tasted and i feel like i am choking on blossoms, on memories, and on the fact that i don't want to let you go. 

i bury your body, but not my sorrows. i burn the petals, for they are dry and dead, and i don't need any more dead things in my life. i leave the wagon and scarlet cloths and the plum pit, and the day i finally return, there is a tree almost as big as your cherry blossom one at home, and i can almost picture your magic holding rain in place, letting the wind blow in a new year.

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We are a literary agency seeking fresh talent. In 200 words or more, demonstrate your writing talent. We will be in touch with any and all promising participants throughout the rest of this quarter.
Written by kensu
hanahaki
the sight of petals on fire is a beautiful thing; pink spring's child smothered by gold summer flame. the feel of loose earth in my fists brings me to lie on the ground, wondering if my grave will dig itself before deciding it will not. there are other graves that need digging, other petals that must be burned, curling into wisps of smoke, the touch of windblown ashes like soft kimono silk, like skin. like your skin. 

your skin was the color of newbud sakura, pale and pretty, and you glowed in the sunlight that filtered through paper curtains. i could never bring myself to touch you for more than a second, for you looked like you could break from the slightest scratch. i tried not to like you, i really did. my parents were looking for a someone who could gift a dowry large enough to build a palace, and your parents were looking for someone that could possibly save you. neither of them ever found what they were looking for.

you started to turn yellow right before the stars fell from the sky, raining dirt around us, metal monsters waiting to bite. a neighbor who lived alone died from the iron rain, and the village sent him off on a raft headed to the end of oceans, his blood left a path that trailed sky water. 

when the storm ended, you and i went outside to collect the pellets that brought breathless bodies. you rolled the bullets between your fingers and tied threads around them. we hung them from the cherry blossom tree that overlooked the sea, and let the metal rain hang suspended.

the stars eventually fell again, and you were too tired to go outside and work magic, hold time and blood bullets in place around threads and branches that reached to entwine with the sky. we thought it would be over soon, and it would be. the sun fell next, twice, in fact. one in Hiroshima and one in Nagasaki. everyone felt it shake the earth, tainting the air. there were more people like you after that. people that had to stay in bed and bear with needles in arms, people that there were no cure for.

i brought you flowers and sweets, as if they could cure your sickness, and you laughed and pretended like they did. we drank rice wine, which did nothing but give us toothache from the sugar, and i wondered what it would be like to run my fingers over your skin, i wondered if you would break into a million pieces, into a million bits of metal rain suspended by string. 

the next day, your hair was cut short, like a lifeline. you whispered into my ear desperately, asking me to take you to the mountains. we left before the sun woke up, i dragged you behind me in a makeshift wagon. i nabbed a bottle of sake from my mother, and that was our dinner. you threw it up in the middle of your sleep, and i worried that you might not wake up. 

the mountains had never been too far, only a day's hike, and before night fell, we reached them. i don't know if you wanted to go to the top, or head back home. you stopped breathing before i could ask you, and you were colder than frozen peonies in winter. i never cried harder in my life.

the ground asks me to give you to it. i feel as if i dig my own pit, although it is yours. in the wagon, i find a bag filled with things you never told me about. many, many cloths filled with blood and coughs and painful, breathless nights. a sack with dried flower petals. a paper with ink, and it is not a goodbye note as one might think. it is calligraphy, an old art that we lost with our gods, and the message you wrote is an old one. "with plum blossoms come the new year." the last is a box containing a plum pit. i know you thought cherry blossoms were old and cliche, meant for memories. plum blossoms are of spring and sweet fruit, meant for you. 

when i lower you into the grave, i feel like choking. i feel like a sleepless night spent coughing into a bloody handkerchief and i feel like running away to mountains and vomiting what was supposed to be the best thing i've ever tasted and i feel like i am choking on blossoms, on memories, and on the fact that i don't want to let you go. 

i bury your body, but not my sorrows. i burn the petals, for they are dry and dead, and i don't need any more dead things in my life. i leave the wagon and scarlet cloths and the plum pit, and the day i finally return, there is a tree almost as big as your cherry blossom one at home, and i can almost picture your magic holding rain in place, letting the wind blow in a new year.


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We are a literary agency seeking fresh talent. In 200 words or more, demonstrate your writing talent. We will be in touch with any and all promising participants throughout the rest of this quarter.
Written by EmilyS129

Help

Who out there has got a problem?

Such an issue to resolve?

Something you could use some help with,

But whoever will you call?

Will you say, "Author, oh author, haven't you heard?

There's so much going on right now,

I'm feeling quite disturbed!

I'm under stress, I'm depressed,

I'm going crazy, I'm a mess.

If I'm anything at all

I am a nervous wreck at best.

It's noticed too much to bluff,

And as of now I've had enough,

Expectations are too rough,

And meeting standards is hard.

How am I supposed to manage

Through priorities and such?

What else could you want from me?

My God, it's too much!"

Not that anyone complains to me,

Or anyone's confiding.

We live in one judgmental place,

they'll keep their fears in hiding.

There're addicts, dramatics, and spastics far from practic.

How quickly one thinks that they know you

With a single glance is drastic.

But the worst thing you can do

Is decide to give up.

"can't" has never made a benefit,

So it has nothing to live up.

"can't" didn't fight wars, claim shores, build cores,

"can't's" never done something no one's ever done before.

But nothing else matters to you,

So all fades when you’re ailed,

Wondering when the pain will stop

Like writing tallies if you're jailed.

But if anything,

You have hope.

It makes things easier

for you to cope.

So march on brave soldier

With your head held up real high.

You're stressed but you're the best.

Don't let your life pass idly by.

Someone believes in you,

Even if it's not yourself.

Sure I've done nothing in person,

But at least you've found some help.

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We are a literary agency seeking fresh talent. In 200 words or more, demonstrate your writing talent. We will be in touch with any and all promising participants throughout the rest of this quarter.
Written by EmilyS129
Help
Who out there has got a problem?
Such an issue to resolve?
Something you could use some help with,
But whoever will you call?

Will you say, "Author, oh author, haven't you heard?
There's so much going on right now,
I'm feeling quite disturbed!

I'm under stress, I'm depressed,
I'm going crazy, I'm a mess.
If I'm anything at all
I am a nervous wreck at best.

It's noticed too much to bluff,
And as of now I've had enough,
Expectations are too rough,
And meeting standards is hard.

How am I supposed to manage
Through priorities and such?
What else could you want from me?
My God, it's too much!"

Not that anyone complains to me,
Or anyone's confiding.
We live in one judgmental place,
they'll keep their fears in hiding.

There're addicts, dramatics, and spastics far from practic.
How quickly one thinks that they know you
With a single glance is drastic.

But the worst thing you can do
Is decide to give up.
"can't" has never made a benefit,
So it has nothing to live up.

"can't" didn't fight wars, claim shores, build cores,
"can't's" never done something no one's ever done before.

But nothing else matters to you,
So all fades when you’re ailed,
Wondering when the pain will stop
Like writing tallies if you're jailed.

But if anything,
You have hope.
It makes things easier
for you to cope.

So march on brave soldier
With your head held up real high.
You're stressed but you're the best.
Don't let your life pass idly by.

Someone believes in you,
Even if it's not yourself.
Sure I've done nothing in person,
But at least you've found some help.


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We are a literary agency seeking fresh talent. In 200 words or more, demonstrate your writing talent. We will be in touch with any and all promising participants throughout the rest of this quarter.
Written by Dracilus

A Suicide Note

First, you should know that it was not your fault. If you are reading this, then you cared enough to look. I could wait and explain everything in person, but I would not convince you. So, I will settle for this. It was not your fault.

Second, well, everything else, I guess. Everything dies eventually. Yes, I know; that is a terrible reason to choose now instead of eventually. But listen – no one ever did when I was alive, but maybe you will now. It’s been fun. But I’m done pretending now. All we can do – all we can ever do – is prolong the inevitable. We can choose to have fun along the way, or, like most of the world seems to have chosen, we can choose to suffer the whole time. And maybe make others suffer while we’re at it. Yes, there were fun times, but what was the point? Are the fun times worth the pain and suffering when it all disintegrates into nothing in the end, no matter what we do? What’s the point of struggling through this world when we all know that nothing we do will ultimately make any difference?

Before you ask, no, this has nothing to do with my father. I know you saw the bruises. I know you ignored them like everyone else. Or rather, you ignored them in a different way than everyone else. But you definitely ignored them. Where the rest of the world looked at anything else so they didn’t have to see, you let yourself notice and pursed your lips in that way that said you care, but not enough to do anything. I know you cared. I know you just didn’t know how to really care in this society that stilts all emotion, that has condemned emotion to the realm of weakness that must never be shown in public. If you care, you are weak. If you don’t care, you are callous. The weak are preyed upon. I know you preferred the world to think you callous. Don’t worry – I never thought that.

You might be asking yourself why now? You want to ask only why, not why now, but it is easier if you can blame something. So instead you ask why now so you can find the one trigger that caused everything, so that you can hate it and crusade against it for the rest of time. Not that it really matters. I’m sorry I don’t have something for you to blame. I’m sorry I don’t have a good answer to your question. My answers were never good enough, anyway.

I didn’t do it earlier because I ran out of time, or I forgot, or I didn’t feel like it, or some other lame excuse. Why didn’t you do your history homework, yet? My answer is the same as yours. I read a lot because I knew I would have to plan carefully. If I was reading, I wasn’t planning. I was lost in someone else’s story, someone whose life was much harder than mine, but somehow made it out the other side whole and optimistic. I admire those characters, I really do. But that’s not me. I played videogames because I had to concentrate on the controls, and if I was concentrating on the game, then I wasn’t thinking about other things. What other things? You know exactly what other things. I was always lost in another story. Sometimes you asked where I was when I was standing next to you. I would just shrug. I spent as much time in someone else’s story as possible. 

Because I knew exactly how mine ended. And being lost was way more fun.

Do you remember the time we went to the beach for my birthday? The party was your idea. When you asked what I thought, I shrugged and said “Sure.” When I asked why the beach, you talked about how I was always staring at the water, so you thought I would enjoy a beach party. I wasn’t staring at the water, though. I was staring at the horizon. I don’t know if that makes any difference. I wanted to know what lay beyond it. I wanted to know what it was like to get lost on the other side. I knew what teachers had told us, of course, but what did they know? What did anyone know about anything in a world where people suffer every day, but showing compassion makes us weak? In a world where suffering and dying were facts of life, and everyone just accepted that? Sometimes you complained that I was too impatient. I just don’t see the point of waiting.

Sometimes you asked if I was okay. I would always shrug and say “Sure.” Then you would shrug, and we would continue walking, pretending that everything really was okay, but knowing that nothing was and never would be. People ask if you’re okay your entire life. Or they ask how you are. Or they forsake the asking altogether and simply command you to have a good day. They don’t care about you or your day – as long as nothing happens to make an impact on their own personal little world. But that will end eventually, too.

Maybe you can barely even read this because of the tears in your eyes. Maybe the words are too blurry to make out, but you know what it says anyway because you knew me – well, you thought you knew me, anyway. Maybe no one else will be able to read this after you. Maybe it’s because you’ll burn this note in a fit of grief and anger. Or maybe it’ll just be because the fallen tears will have blurred the words beyond comprehension – to you or to anyone else. All that will be left of me will be puddles of black ink on soggy paper. The black will separate into all the colors that make it up, the way we are never allowed to. Rainbow coronas will form around the letters. The rainbows will be mostly dark, blues and purples.

We live in a society where black has to be black. And that black has to be whatever society has decided for it for that decade. We can be every color hiding in that black ink, but we’re not allowed to show it. That would make us different. It would make us weak. And when society decides that black isn’t black enough anymore, then we just have to adjust and pretend that this is always who we were and we are nothing but black and we are none of the colors that make black what it is. All of this just to fit in with a world where nothing matters, anyway. All I ever wanted was something real. I couldn’t find it in a world with all the color hidden. If you were here with me in person you might tell me that sounds angsty and dramatic. I would probably shrug and say “Sure.”

I suppose this makes me weak. Fine. At the end of this note, it won’t matter anyway. And eventually, nothing will matter, anyway. Maybe if someone had pried beyond “Sure” when they asked about me, none of this would have happened. Or maybe it would have. And in the end, we all would have died, anyway. So this was not your fault.

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Written by Dracilus
A Suicide Note
First, you should know that it was not your fault. If you are reading this, then you cared enough to look. I could wait and explain everything in person, but I would not convince you. So, I will settle for this. It was not your fault.

Second, well, everything else, I guess. Everything dies eventually. Yes, I know; that is a terrible reason to choose now instead of eventually. But listen – no one ever did when I was alive, but maybe you will now. It’s been fun. But I’m done pretending now. All we can do – all we can ever do – is prolong the inevitable. We can choose to have fun along the way, or, like most of the world seems to have chosen, we can choose to suffer the whole time. And maybe make others suffer while we’re at it. Yes, there were fun times, but what was the point? Are the fun times worth the pain and suffering when it all disintegrates into nothing in the end, no matter what we do? What’s the point of struggling through this world when we all know that nothing we do will ultimately make any difference?

Before you ask, no, this has nothing to do with my father. I know you saw the bruises. I know you ignored them like everyone else. Or rather, you ignored them in a different way than everyone else. But you definitely ignored them. Where the rest of the world looked at anything else so they didn’t have to see, you let yourself notice and pursed your lips in that way that said you care, but not enough to do anything. I know you cared. I know you just didn’t know how to really care in this society that stilts all emotion, that has condemned emotion to the realm of weakness that must never be shown in public. If you care, you are weak. If you don’t care, you are callous. The weak are preyed upon. I know you preferred the world to think you callous. Don’t worry – I never thought that.

You might be asking yourself why now? You want to ask only why, not why now, but it is easier if you can blame something. So instead you ask why now so you can find the one trigger that caused everything, so that you can hate it and crusade against it for the rest of time. Not that it really matters. I’m sorry I don’t have something for you to blame. I’m sorry I don’t have a good answer to your question. My answers were never good enough, anyway.

I didn’t do it earlier because I ran out of time, or I forgot, or I didn’t feel like it, or some other lame excuse. Why didn’t you do your history homework, yet? My answer is the same as yours. I read a lot because I knew I would have to plan carefully. If I was reading, I wasn’t planning. I was lost in someone else’s story, someone whose life was much harder than mine, but somehow made it out the other side whole and optimistic. I admire those characters, I really do. But that’s not me. I played videogames because I had to concentrate on the controls, and if I was concentrating on the game, then I wasn’t thinking about other things. What other things? You know exactly what other things. I was always lost in another story. Sometimes you asked where I was when I was standing next to you. I would just shrug. I spent as much time in someone else’s story as possible. 
Because I knew exactly how mine ended. And being lost was way more fun.

Do you remember the time we went to the beach for my birthday? The party was your idea. When you asked what I thought, I shrugged and said “Sure.” When I asked why the beach, you talked about how I was always staring at the water, so you thought I would enjoy a beach party. I wasn’t staring at the water, though. I was staring at the horizon. I don’t know if that makes any difference. I wanted to know what lay beyond it. I wanted to know what it was like to get lost on the other side. I knew what teachers had told us, of course, but what did they know? What did anyone know about anything in a world where people suffer every day, but showing compassion makes us weak? In a world where suffering and dying were facts of life, and everyone just accepted that? Sometimes you complained that I was too impatient. I just don’t see the point of waiting.

Sometimes you asked if I was okay. I would always shrug and say “Sure.” Then you would shrug, and we would continue walking, pretending that everything really was okay, but knowing that nothing was and never would be. People ask if you’re okay your entire life. Or they ask how you are. Or they forsake the asking altogether and simply command you to have a good day. They don’t care about you or your day – as long as nothing happens to make an impact on their own personal little world. But that will end eventually, too.

Maybe you can barely even read this because of the tears in your eyes. Maybe the words are too blurry to make out, but you know what it says anyway because you knew me – well, you thought you knew me, anyway. Maybe no one else will be able to read this after you. Maybe it’s because you’ll burn this note in a fit of grief and anger. Or maybe it’ll just be because the fallen tears will have blurred the words beyond comprehension – to you or to anyone else. All that will be left of me will be puddles of black ink on soggy paper. The black will separate into all the colors that make it up, the way we are never allowed to. Rainbow coronas will form around the letters. The rainbows will be mostly dark, blues and purples.

We live in a society where black has to be black. And that black has to be whatever society has decided for it for that decade. We can be every color hiding in that black ink, but we’re not allowed to show it. That would make us different. It would make us weak. And when society decides that black isn’t black enough anymore, then we just have to adjust and pretend that this is always who we were and we are nothing but black and we are none of the colors that make black what it is. All of this just to fit in with a world where nothing matters, anyway. All I ever wanted was something real. I couldn’t find it in a world with all the color hidden. If you were here with me in person you might tell me that sounds angsty and dramatic. I would probably shrug and say “Sure.”

I suppose this makes me weak. Fine. At the end of this note, it won’t matter anyway. And eventually, nothing will matter, anyway. Maybe if someone had pried beyond “Sure” when they asked about me, none of this would have happened. Or maybe it would have. And in the end, we all would have died, anyway. So this was not your fault.

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We are a literary agency seeking fresh talent. In 200 words or more, demonstrate your writing talent. We will be in touch with any and all promising participants throughout the rest of this quarter.
Written by RamonElCamino

Stoned Sycophants

"Are you high friend" "Yes JH. You and I must be if we're back to this. Facts as they are." (Both see themselves having equal claim a crown)

 "Past tense the last time Will. We two found ourselves abreast. Trading jest with last breath. For joint with next." "Liberating such debilitated deliberating as though of no consequence your words JH." "Nor yours as well Will."

"Delightful for me overseeing these two incoherent's. Incognito. Each delivering their diatribe as well as the next. Recompense each determined be awarded themselves. And thusly each will be handed by the other their do.There crime you ask? We're do I begin..."

As a vision of derision. From the edge of outer space. He breathlessly emerge from clouds of smoke his lungs displaced. "General" "Has Commodore William arrived yet?"

Not as yet sir." "Damn him!!" "He does not honor your invitation sir?" Damn him!! And you as well. Be gone!!"

The General's intention was to arrive fashionably late. Not late enough it seem to be the last seated. Now The commodores grand entrance will be last on everyone's mind. Seething this denial of pompous prideful pubescent poppycock. He fires up a joint of "Most dankest of Kush" his words not mine. And passes it around. To his left. "Who is he that we should be made to wait?" He adds as he offer another joint to his right this time.

"Put that shit away!!!" Cries the Commodore most boastfully as he enters the room. Usual overly abundant Entourage in tow.

" Iv'e smoked the generals weed. Hell! The last time we sat together. No less than a week ago. Remember? This is much better. What I have I guarantee it!!" The Commodore went on to say.

"Fuck you" retort the general. Then adding. "You remember nothing of the sort. Your full of shit. I say!! As is your weed. Kandahar Kush!!!"He exclaims. As he holds another fatty up exulted above all else. His implication.

"Cat piss more like. High on own innocuous fumes is all that's occurred you. And those alike. Nothing more." The Commodore says laughingly. As though it only a joke. "Look around Commodore everybody here is quite high and doing quite comfortably. We have no need for your offense or delinquent arrival here at all. The party started without you and is going quite splendidly. My guess. You are not needed. My weed has already. You defeated." "Am I to assume then. I and you are now at war? A war unbeknownst to me or any other? And I thought this was a party." "It is. So we could battle. And you've just been served. Little Willy."

Huffs and puffs and harrumphs abound from? The Commodore and his entourage. As though this slight may have gotten to him.

Finally. Say's the expression on the General's face. As all others in attendance back away the center of the room creating a circle for those about to battle to do so.

"Six on Six. The Commodore William Nelson and the General Jack Herrera. included. No exceptions." Announced the Joker. He will be refereeing of coarse. The peanut gallery will judge.

"Gentlemen please roll your deadliest and prepare for battle. May the best joints win."

And so it went. Though I don't doubt either remember the outcome. Which is why the haven't tried killing each other yet. Unless they're trying to do so. By eventual overdose. Such fine equally gifted adversaries. Their tit for tat is always quite amusing. Especially if neither of them remember it. For example, the Commodore asked the general. "If he forgot his head. Up his ass? And since you're so "high" up there already. Could he please check his prostate?" Only for the general to reply. "That's cause I'm smoking my BC Bud and not your cat piss Kush"

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We are a literary agency seeking fresh talent. In 200 words or more, demonstrate your writing talent. We will be in touch with any and all promising participants throughout the rest of this quarter.
Written by RamonElCamino
Stoned Sycophants
"Are you high friend" "Yes JH. You and I must be if we're back to this. Facts as they are." (Both see themselves having equal claim a crown)
 "Past tense the last time Will. We two found ourselves abreast. Trading jest with last breath. For joint with next." "Liberating such debilitated deliberating as though of no consequence your words JH." "Nor yours as well Will."
"Delightful for me overseeing these two incoherent's. Incognito. Each delivering their diatribe as well as the next. Recompense each determined be awarded themselves. And thusly each will be handed by the other their do.There crime you ask? We're do I begin..."

As a vision of derision. From the edge of outer space. He breathlessly emerge from clouds of smoke his lungs displaced. "General" "Has Commodore William arrived yet?"
Not as yet sir." "Damn him!!" "He does not honor your invitation sir?" Damn him!! And you as well. Be gone!!"
The General's intention was to arrive fashionably late. Not late enough it seem to be the last seated. Now The commodores grand entrance will be last on everyone's mind. Seething this denial of pompous prideful pubescent poppycock. He fires up a joint of "Most dankest of Kush" his words not mine. And passes it around. To his left. "Who is he that we should be made to wait?" He adds as he offer another joint to his right this time.
"Put that shit away!!!" Cries the Commodore most boastfully as he enters the room. Usual overly abundant Entourage in tow.
" Iv'e smoked the generals weed. Hell! The last time we sat together. No less than a week ago. Remember? This is much better. What I have I guarantee it!!" The Commodore went on to say.
"Fuck you" retort the general. Then adding. "You remember nothing of the sort. Your full of shit. I say!! As is your weed. Kandahar Kush!!!"He exclaims. As he holds another fatty up exulted above all else. His implication.
"Cat piss more like. High on own innocuous fumes is all that's occurred you. And those alike. Nothing more." The Commodore says laughingly. As though it only a joke. "Look around Commodore everybody here is quite high and doing quite comfortably. We have no need for your offense or delinquent arrival here at all. The party started without you and is going quite splendidly. My guess. You are not needed. My weed has already. You defeated." "Am I to assume then. I and you are now at war? A war unbeknownst to me or any other? And I thought this was a party." "It is. So we could battle. And you've just been served. Little Willy."
Huffs and puffs and harrumphs abound from? The Commodore and his entourage. As though this slight may have gotten to him.
Finally. Say's the expression on the General's face. As all others in attendance back away the center of the room creating a circle for those about to battle to do so.
"Six on Six. The Commodore William Nelson and the General Jack Herrera. included. No exceptions." Announced the Joker. He will be refereeing of coarse. The peanut gallery will judge.
"Gentlemen please roll your deadliest and prepare for battle. May the best joints win."
And so it went. Though I don't doubt either remember the outcome. Which is why the haven't tried killing each other yet. Unless they're trying to do so. By eventual overdose. Such fine equally gifted adversaries. Their tit for tat is always quite amusing. Especially if neither of them remember it. For example, the Commodore asked the general. "If he forgot his head. Up his ass? And since you're so "high" up there already. Could he please check his prostate?" Only for the general to reply. "That's cause I'm smoking my BC Bud and not your cat piss Kush"
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We are a literary agency seeking fresh talent. In 200 words or more, demonstrate your writing talent. We will be in touch with any and all promising participants throughout the rest of this quarter.
Written by Emeraldwriter

Hunter

Chapter 1

Music blared around the large blue room as people danced together while drinking like teenagers. Half of these people are over twenty one. I am only twenty, which I think should count.

I brought the red cup filled with cheap beer up to my mouth.

"This is disgusting." I said with a sour expression

Kelly, my slightly insane friend nodded her head to the music causing her dark brown hair to shake over her face. Kelly is about five foot two, same height as me.

She was wearing a short blue ruffled skirt, spiky tan heels and a beige lace tank top that showed off her c cup boobs. She was a curvy girl who caused all guys to stare when she walks past them. Not to mention her shoulder length dark brown hair, perfectly tanned skin, light brown eyes.

"Dance with me Aubrey." she shouted as she downed her cup of alcohol

Before I could answer she grabbed my forearm and dragged me into the crowd of sweaty dancers. Kelly began shaking her hips to the beat, just slightly rubbing up against some guy behind her.

"Come on you look fucking sexy, just dance." she ordered

I looked down at my dark blue skinny jeans, one shoulder shimmery purple shirt and black open toe booties. My long blonde hair was in a messy ponytail which Kelly calls hoe tail.

It is a party. The corners of my mouth tipped upwards as I mimicked her moves. Kelly grabbed my hands and twirled me like I was a child. We danced together for a few songs not paying any attention to the people around us.

Hot Chile Rae's I Like It Like That came on which caused Kelly to scream like a groupie. She clutched my forearms and jumped up and down while singing along.

As I jumped with her I couldn't help but laugh at her slurred singing. She is wasted for sure.

"Holy shit look who's here." Kelly said

I turned in the direction to where Kelly was staring wide eyed. Leaning by the banister was a buff guy with wide shoulders, and thick forearms. He raked his large, lightly tanned hand through his dirty blonde hair as a wide smile spread across his face.

He was wearing a navy blue v neck, dark jeans and shiny black sneakers. My eyes widened not believing my eyes.

"What is Holden doing here?" I hissed

Kelly rolled her eyes. "It's a party Aub."

"No duh! I meant what is he doing in town?!"

Holden Clark my ex-boyfriend. We went out in sophomore year in high school for a few months. I really use to like Holden and he was a sweet boyfriend. Than he did a one eighty and became this complete douche!

Seriously he became a bully around school, he turned into a muscle headed ass and he treated my friends like crap.

I had enough and broke up with him. He tried getting me back all through out high school in between his weekly skanks of course.

After high school I heard Holden became an agent or undercover cop or whatever secret job he has now.

"Who cares! Holden is a sexy asshole who wants in your pants!" Kelly shouted a little too loud

Just than those dark brown eyes just happened to look over at me. I whipped back around trying to hide my face.

"He's coming over." Kelly laughed as I ducked my head down

Every time I see Holden he hits on me and acts like that ass that I broke up with four years ago.

I slapped Kelly's hands away from me and tried pushing through the crowd.

"Aubrey Scott."

The deep voice caused me to freeze in my awkward crouching position. I shut my eyes briefly, cursing my bad luck.

Slowly I stood back up and faced that stupid jerk. As I looked up at his dark eyes and felt my anger from four years ago.

Damn he's still Hot!! I cleared my throat before speaking.

"Holden."

He smiled his wide dazzling smile that use to make me melt. Now it reminded me of the player he has become.

"How have you been?" he asked

"Good."

I looked around now noticing that Kelly slipped away. She knows how much I hate being around Holden.

A couple dancing bumped into me causing me to stumble into Holden. He caught me by the shoulders with a twinkle in his eyes.

"Let's go somewhere quiet."

He ushered me out of the crowd and out of the warm cramped house. We walked further from the music in silence.

I pulled away from his touch and turned to face him. He smiled at me thinking it would warm me up.

A chilly breeze blew hard causing my ponytail to fly onto my face. Holden took that opportunity to lean forward and brush my hair back.

His fingers grazed the sides of my cheeks as he cupped my face.

"You've gotten more beautiful." he whispered

At one point those dark eyes and sweet words would make my knees go weak. No there is nothing.

"So what have you been up to?" I asked as I stepped away

He sighed, a look of frustration on his face. Can't he take a hint.

"Working, what about you?"

Working? What exactly does he do that he answered me so vaguely? I took a few steps forward toward the road and away from Holden.

"I'm almost done with college. Kel and I still work part time at Lux's bakery."

Holden snorted as he strode by me with his hands in his pockets. I watched as he kicked a pebble across the pavement.

"Your still with those pathetic friends of yours. When will you learn." he laughed

"Excuse me?"

He turned his broad back around, his face suddenly serious. The quick change frightened me.

"Those losers aren't going to help you Aubrey."

Are we seriously arguing about this again? Even after so many years.I crossed my arms over my chest.

"Those losers are my friends and they have been more than you could ever be."

He turned his mouth to the side as a vein bulged by his temple. He's angry!

"I can take care of you Aubrey. You don't have to finish school, you can leave that stupid job."

"Do you hear yourself Holden?!" I shouted not believing my ears

I have been working my ass off for two years to become a teacher. For those two years I struggled and he wants me to drop everything for him.

"We've been over for a while and we both have moved on." I began

"Wait you moved on? Who is he?"

Holden's face was hard as he stood next to me in his full six feet. I felt a little intimidated because he is so big.

Seriously he is like the ad for steroids!

"It's none of your business if I am with anyone or not." I answered sticking my chin upwards

He gripped my shoulders, his fingers dug into my skin painfully. Holden lowered his face down to mine, his eyes darker than usual.

"You are mine." he said stiffly

"I don't belong to anyone and definitely not you." I hissed as I pulled away

A muscle in his jaw twitched. His whole freaking face can fall off I could care less.

"This is exactly why we broke up."

Holden raised his brow up like I was speaking a different language.

"Because I care about you?" he asked

I threw my arms up in exasperation. "No Holden, we broke up because you were and still are an asshole."

He looked a take back like the idea of me not seeing him as some kind of hero is impossible.

I sighed feeling all the fun from before drain out of me.

"Tell Kelly I'm going home." I said as I turned to the road ahead

"Aubrey.."

"Goodnight Holden." I waved, not turning around

I have had enough of Holden to last me a lifetime. It's great to know nothing changed. Although he did get bigger, height and muscle wise.

Another chilly breeze blew my hair in different directions. I pushed it back remembering Holden's cheesy move. It reminded me of that sweet guy from high school who use to give me a red rose every morning.

The guy who pretended that he was lost at my fifteen birthday party so he could get some alone time. He looked so cute as he sat on my bed blushing like crazy.

I smile touched my face as I remembered Holden babbling because he was so nervous. I missed that adorable young Holden.

I walked down the asphalt road that was dimly lighted by a couple street lamps. It probably wasn't a good idea to be walking out here alone but I can't turn back now.

Surrounding the dark road were thick green trees that lead to the heart of the forest which was on the other side of this road.

My father always told me to stay out of the woods. There were wolf sightings a few times over the years. Where there's a wild animal there is death, my father always says.

A chill ran down my spine at the horrific deaths due to animals. To have those sharp teeth rip you apart slowly.

"Stop it." I scowled myself

I rubbed my arms now regretting my choice to leave my jacket at home. Stupid Holden. I could have had a ride home instead of walking in a one shoulder table cloth!

As I walked at the side of the road I could see the half moon bright in the star dusted sky. It's light shined over the famous Yeller cliff.

Stupid teens jump off the lower grounds but there are rocks below at the shallow parts of the lake. Alex, one of my friends use to jump off the cliff every day during the summer. Once he broke his leg when he tried jumping off the third highest level.

I was always too scared to try.

As I looked up at the empty cliff a figure appeared. Unfortunately the cliff was also a make out spot. Judging by the width of his shoulders its a guy.

The stranger walked slowly toward the edge of the cliff but no one was behind him. My brows furrowed together as he walked closer to the edge. He wouldn't be that stupid, would he?

Just when I thought he was going to jump he stopped. I let out a breath of relief.

"You shouldn't stand at the edge, it's slippery." I shouted

He didn't move. I watched as the stranger stood at the edge of the cliff slightly swaying forward.

"Hey!" I shouted as I ran towards the cliff

Before I could utter another word he leaned forward. His body didn't fall straight down like a rock. Instead he fell slowly like he was defying gravity.

My hand rose to cover my mouth as he dropped into the water with a loud splash.

"Oh my god!" I screamed when he didn't come up for air

I ran to the lower part of the road and lowered my body down to the grass below. I jumped into the cold water fully clothed which was a mistake.

My boots were weighing me down. Still I managed to swim toward the spot where I saw the guy drop. I dipped my head into the water and searched for him.

When I couldn't see anyone, I rose up for air gasping.

"Where are you?!" I shouted

I looked around frantically. The tides smashed into my body pushing me left and away from the shore. I struggled to stay above the water as I listened for a reply.

Just as I was going to call out again a large wave pulled me under. Salty water filled my mouth as I tried to swim up to the surface. As I reached the surface another wave pushed me back under.

This time I managed to get a mouthful of air. I swam slightly below the surface waiting out the tides. As I floated I saw a body sinking downwards.

Without thinking I swam towards the motionless body, grabbing him by the armpits. I tugged almost losing my breath of air. He's heavy!

Ignoring my aching arms I used an unknown strength and pulled him up to the surface. I gasped for air as soon as our heads were out of the freezing water.

The stranger's dark brown hair was stuck at the sides of his pale, unconscious face. I need to get him to shore. After a little struggling I managed to swim to the shore.

It turns put pulling him away from the tide was more of a struggle. But when I did I bent down to listen for a heart beat. Nothing.

"Think Aubrey!" I shouted as I stared at the large lifeless body

Mouth to mouth. I pushed his chest hard with two hands and hesitantly brought my mouth down to his.

I blew into his mouth trying not to think about his warm lips against mine or his sweet breath. I'm a pervert!

As I pulled away I pressed his chest three times and blew again. I looked down at his face now noticing the color returning to his cheeks.

"It's working." I laughed not believing it

Repeating my actions I pushed his chest and pressed my mouth to his. Unlike before though I felt his mouth move against mine.

My eyes widened as his lips captured mine in a desperate attempt to keep our mouths together.

His hands rose up to my arms as he sat up. Was he planning that?! I hit his chest which was a solid wall of muscle.

Surprisingly he pulled away looking a little puzzled. He's puzzled?! I stood up feeling my heart banging in my chest.

My eyes ran over his body not seeing one scratch on him. That's impossible, he jumped off the cliff! He didn't even wobble a little.

The stranger mimicked my movement towering over me. Raising my head up slowly I met a pair of dark green eyes.

"Who are you?" I asked stupidly

The guy jumps off a freaking cliff and that's what I ask! He kept his dark eyes on me not breaking contact.

"I'm Hunter."

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We are a literary agency seeking fresh talent. In 200 words or more, demonstrate your writing talent. We will be in touch with any and all promising participants throughout the rest of this quarter.
Written by Emeraldwriter
Hunter

Chapter 1

Music blared around the large blue room as people danced together while drinking like teenagers. Half of these people are over twenty one. I am only twenty, which I think should count.

I brought the red cup filled with cheap beer up to my mouth.

"This is disgusting." I said with a sour expression

Kelly, my slightly insane friend nodded her head to the music causing her dark brown hair to shake over her face. Kelly is about five foot two, same height as me.

She was wearing a short blue ruffled skirt, spiky tan heels and a beige lace tank top that showed off her c cup boobs. She was a curvy girl who caused all guys to stare when she walks past them. Not to mention her shoulder length dark brown hair, perfectly tanned skin, light brown eyes.

"Dance with me Aubrey." she shouted as she downed her cup of alcohol

Before I could answer she grabbed my forearm and dragged me into the crowd of sweaty dancers. Kelly began shaking her hips to the beat, just slightly rubbing up against some guy behind her.

"Come on you look fucking sexy, just dance." she ordered

I looked down at my dark blue skinny jeans, one shoulder shimmery purple shirt and black open toe booties. My long blonde hair was in a messy ponytail which Kelly calls hoe tail.

It is a party. The corners of my mouth tipped upwards as I mimicked her moves. Kelly grabbed my hands and twirled me like I was a child. We danced together for a few songs not paying any attention to the people around us.

Hot Chile Rae's I Like It Like That came on which caused Kelly to scream like a groupie. She clutched my forearms and jumped up and down while singing along.

As I jumped with her I couldn't help but laugh at her slurred singing. She is wasted for sure.

"Holy shit look who's here." Kelly said

I turned in the direction to where Kelly was staring wide eyed. Leaning by the banister was a buff guy with wide shoulders, and thick forearms. He raked his large, lightly tanned hand through his dirty blonde hair as a wide smile spread across his face.

He was wearing a navy blue v neck, dark jeans and shiny black sneakers. My eyes widened not believing my eyes.

"What is Holden doing here?" I hissed

Kelly rolled her eyes. "It's a party Aub."

"No duh! I meant what is he doing in town?!"

Holden Clark my ex-boyfriend. We went out in sophomore year in high school for a few months. I really use to like Holden and he was a sweet boyfriend. Than he did a one eighty and became this complete douche!

Seriously he became a bully around school, he turned into a muscle headed ass and he treated my friends like crap.

I had enough and broke up with him. He tried getting me back all through out high school in between his weekly skanks of course.

After high school I heard Holden became an agent or undercover cop or whatever secret job he has now.

"Who cares! Holden is a sexy asshole who wants in your pants!" Kelly shouted a little too loud

Just than those dark brown eyes just happened to look over at me. I whipped back around trying to hide my face.

"He's coming over." Kelly laughed as I ducked my head down

Every time I see Holden he hits on me and acts like that ass that I broke up with four years ago.

I slapped Kelly's hands away from me and tried pushing through the crowd.

"Aubrey Scott."

The deep voice caused me to freeze in my awkward crouching position. I shut my eyes briefly, cursing my bad luck.

Slowly I stood back up and faced that stupid jerk. As I looked up at his dark eyes and felt my anger from four years ago.

Damn he's still Hot!! I cleared my throat before speaking.

"Holden."

He smiled his wide dazzling smile that use to make me melt. Now it reminded me of the player he has become.

"How have you been?" he asked

"Good."

I looked around now noticing that Kelly slipped away. She knows how much I hate being around Holden.

A couple dancing bumped into me causing me to stumble into Holden. He caught me by the shoulders with a twinkle in his eyes.

"Let's go somewhere quiet."

He ushered me out of the crowd and out of the warm cramped house. We walked further from the music in silence.

I pulled away from his touch and turned to face him. He smiled at me thinking it would warm me up.

A chilly breeze blew hard causing my ponytail to fly onto my face. Holden took that opportunity to lean forward and brush my hair back.

His fingers grazed the sides of my cheeks as he cupped my face.

"You've gotten more beautiful." he whispered

At one point those dark eyes and sweet words would make my knees go weak. No there is nothing.

"So what have you been up to?" I asked as I stepped away

He sighed, a look of frustration on his face. Can't he take a hint.

"Working, what about you?"

Working? What exactly does he do that he answered me so vaguely? I took a few steps forward toward the road and away from Holden.

"I'm almost done with college. Kel and I still work part time at Lux's bakery."

Holden snorted as he strode by me with his hands in his pockets. I watched as he kicked a pebble across the pavement.

"Your still with those pathetic friends of yours. When will you learn." he laughed

"Excuse me?"

He turned his broad back around, his face suddenly serious. The quick change frightened me.

"Those losers aren't going to help you Aubrey."

Are we seriously arguing about this again? Even after so many years.I crossed my arms over my chest.

"Those losers are my friends and they have been more than you could ever be."

He turned his mouth to the side as a vein bulged by his temple. He's angry!

"I can take care of you Aubrey. You don't have to finish school, you can leave that stupid job."

"Do you hear yourself Holden?!" I shouted not believing my ears

I have been working my ass off for two years to become a teacher. For those two years I struggled and he wants me to drop everything for him.

"We've been over for a while and we both have moved on." I began

"Wait you moved on? Who is he?"

Holden's face was hard as he stood next to me in his full six feet. I felt a little intimidated because he is so big.

Seriously he is like the ad for steroids!

"It's none of your business if I am with anyone or not." I answered sticking my chin upwards

He gripped my shoulders, his fingers dug into my skin painfully. Holden lowered his face down to mine, his eyes darker than usual.

"You are mine." he said stiffly

"I don't belong to anyone and definitely not you." I hissed as I pulled away

A muscle in his jaw twitched. His whole freaking face can fall off I could care less.

"This is exactly why we broke up."

Holden raised his brow up like I was speaking a different language.

"Because I care about you?" he asked

I threw my arms up in exasperation. "No Holden, we broke up because you were and still are an asshole."

He looked a take back like the idea of me not seeing him as some kind of hero is impossible.

I sighed feeling all the fun from before drain out of me.

"Tell Kelly I'm going home." I said as I turned to the road ahead

"Aubrey.."

"Goodnight Holden." I waved, not turning around

I have had enough of Holden to last me a lifetime. It's great to know nothing changed. Although he did get bigger, height and muscle wise.

Another chilly breeze blew my hair in different directions. I pushed it back remembering Holden's cheesy move. It reminded me of that sweet guy from high school who use to give me a red rose every morning.

The guy who pretended that he was lost at my fifteen birthday party so he could get some alone time. He looked so cute as he sat on my bed blushing like crazy.

I smile touched my face as I remembered Holden babbling because he was so nervous. I missed that adorable young Holden.

I walked down the asphalt road that was dimly lighted by a couple street lamps. It probably wasn't a good idea to be walking out here alone but I can't turn back now.

Surrounding the dark road were thick green trees that lead to the heart of the forest which was on the other side of this road.

My father always told me to stay out of the woods. There were wolf sightings a few times over the years. Where there's a wild animal there is death, my father always says.

A chill ran down my spine at the horrific deaths due to animals. To have those sharp teeth rip you apart slowly.

"Stop it." I scowled myself

I rubbed my arms now regretting my choice to leave my jacket at home. Stupid Holden. I could have had a ride home instead of walking in a one shoulder table cloth!

As I walked at the side of the road I could see the half moon bright in the star dusted sky. It's light shined over the famous Yeller cliff.

Stupid teens jump off the lower grounds but there are rocks below at the shallow parts of the lake. Alex, one of my friends use to jump off the cliff every day during the summer. Once he broke his leg when he tried jumping off the third highest level.

I was always too scared to try.

As I looked up at the empty cliff a figure appeared. Unfortunately the cliff was also a make out spot. Judging by the width of his shoulders its a guy.

The stranger walked slowly toward the edge of the cliff but no one was behind him. My brows furrowed together as he walked closer to the edge. He wouldn't be that stupid, would he?

Just when I thought he was going to jump he stopped. I let out a breath of relief.

"You shouldn't stand at the edge, it's slippery." I shouted

He didn't move. I watched as the stranger stood at the edge of the cliff slightly swaying forward.

"Hey!" I shouted as I ran towards the cliff

Before I could utter another word he leaned forward. His body didn't fall straight down like a rock. Instead he fell slowly like he was defying gravity.

My hand rose to cover my mouth as he dropped into the water with a loud splash.

"Oh my god!" I screamed when he didn't come up for air

I ran to the lower part of the road and lowered my body down to the grass below. I jumped into the cold water fully clothed which was a mistake.

My boots were weighing me down. Still I managed to swim toward the spot where I saw the guy drop. I dipped my head into the water and searched for him.

When I couldn't see anyone, I rose up for air gasping.

"Where are you?!" I shouted

I looked around frantically. The tides smashed into my body pushing me left and away from the shore. I struggled to stay above the water as I listened for a reply.

Just as I was going to call out again a large wave pulled me under. Salty water filled my mouth as I tried to swim up to the surface. As I reached the surface another wave pushed me back under.

This time I managed to get a mouthful of air. I swam slightly below the surface waiting out the tides. As I floated I saw a body sinking downwards.

Without thinking I swam towards the motionless body, grabbing him by the armpits. I tugged almost losing my breath of air. He's heavy!

Ignoring my aching arms I used an unknown strength and pulled him up to the surface. I gasped for air as soon as our heads were out of the freezing water.

The stranger's dark brown hair was stuck at the sides of his pale, unconscious face. I need to get him to shore. After a little struggling I managed to swim to the shore.

It turns put pulling him away from the tide was more of a struggle. But when I did I bent down to listen for a heart beat. Nothing.

"Think Aubrey!" I shouted as I stared at the large lifeless body

Mouth to mouth. I pushed his chest hard with two hands and hesitantly brought my mouth down to his.

I blew into his mouth trying not to think about his warm lips against mine or his sweet breath. I'm a pervert!

As I pulled away I pressed his chest three times and blew again. I looked down at his face now noticing the color returning to his cheeks.

"It's working." I laughed not believing it

Repeating my actions I pushed his chest and pressed my mouth to his. Unlike before though I felt his mouth move against mine.

My eyes widened as his lips captured mine in a desperate attempt to keep our mouths together.

His hands rose up to my arms as he sat up. Was he planning that?! I hit his chest which was a solid wall of muscle.

Surprisingly he pulled away looking a little puzzled. He's puzzled?! I stood up feeling my heart banging in my chest.

My eyes ran over his body not seeing one scratch on him. That's impossible, he jumped off the cliff! He didn't even wobble a little.

The stranger mimicked my movement towering over me. Raising my head up slowly I met a pair of dark green eyes.

"Who are you?" I asked stupidly

The guy jumps off a freaking cliff and that's what I ask! He kept his dark eyes on me not breaking contact.

"I'm Hunter."
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We are a literary agency seeking fresh talent. In 200 words or more, demonstrate your writing talent. We will be in touch with any and all promising participants throughout the rest of this quarter.
Written by naked-avenues

Of Aces and Poison

HISTORY WAS NEVER QUITE accurate for the matter. Laleh knows of that too well already, because she managed to live through every lie that the senate fed the citizens of the Republique. Laleh knew that what has been written in history books, no matter how inaccurate - was never going to be erased with the t r u t h that people choose to ignore.

That was exactly the case with the daughter of Hades and Prima Bakhtiar for their history traces back to both of their ancient (and divine) roots.

The Electress wasn't a saint, she was manipulative, cunning and ambitious - a trait which she could've passed on to her d e a d daughter.

The cold wind rushed over the bare skin of her shoulders, cursing the black, floor-length gown she had on. The silk felt chilly over her body, like it was just to drape her naked body — or there to mock her for choosing this path.

She was revolted on how exposed she felt standing in her balcony that overlooked the grandiose Republique. She knows that her past self would think that this would make her feel like a goddess but in reality, she felt much more intimate up there.

It seems like it was the place between gods and mortals and she feels stuck.n

Laleh was afraid to look beside her, where a charming young senator watched the night pass by with her. But he was not just a senator. He was her past, as he is her future.

And that is when she sees him pulling a cigarette from his suit, lighting it along with a smirk.

a smirk,

full of d e c e i t

and l i e s.

one fitted for

the d e v i l,

himself

She lets her self be taken to the past where she was standing in a crowd which was full of people that wasn't her kind, and her mind kept pondering.

he'soneofthem.he'soneofthem.he'soneofthem.

"I've thought about this a lot, you know." The son of Chronos snapped the girl out of her dark thoughts, his voice gruff from the harshness of the cool wind. "If you didn't run away, you'd be leading us right now."

"Do you really want to know why I became like this?" She shot him a pointed look and scoffed when she saw how he reacted to her question. She took the cigarette from his fingertips. "I did it for you."

"Why?" He only wants to hear the answer from her because deep inside, Jonathan knew what she was going to say. Laleh had already pieced out his plans, but she still wants him to know.

At least that he deserves, rather than a punishment of being associated with her in the first place.

"I did it because you needed it in your life, to make you feel something again." She coughed out a puff of smoke, avoiding his gaze. "I loved you. "

"Do you still?" He asked, his knuckles white because of his tight grip on the sub-zero railings. He waited for her answer and she could see something, something much greater if she could only say the word. "Do you still?"

She turned around and wrapped her arms around herself to keep her warm. She didn't bother to look back as she walked out.

Because after everything, she could never put it out of her mind that,

he is them.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

She was disappointed.

Waves of anger were already radiating from her like an ocean that was full of unpredictability. R a g e filled her green eyes like fire, making her tighten her hold on the wineglass she was holding, a scowl twisting her pale features.

"You really told her," Laleh scoffed mockingly while Jonathan approached her with a passive look flashing on his face. "Now, everything we both worked for will be destroyed. You brought this upon yourself."

"Promises are meant to be broken you know?" Jonathan reasoned out, taking the fragile glass that was in Laleh's hand, the glass looking as if it was about to shatter any minute by the girl's grip.

"But you didn't promise," The daughter of Hades sulked, blowing the stray hairs of her dark curls, trying to prevent herself from crying in frustration. "You told me. You made me think that you care and I think there's a difference in that."

"Why do you even care? You're here for the sake of your petty little Revolution, not because I am in love with you or anything." Jonathan growled, his temper growing shorter as he gazed at her face with the same fire in his blue eyes. "And I'd appreciate if you thanked me for giving you this advantage rather tampering with whatever position I have left here in the senate."

"What you want, you get." Laleh's words resonated between the two of them, seeing that she had struck a nerve upon him — his smug smile wiped away from his pretty face, affecting him with a daze of a past memory they had shared.

the soft exchange of short b r e a t h s and the echoes of g u t t u r a l moans.

the intimacy of being together; the n i g h t of the gala.

their human instinct; to be t o g e t h e r.

defying what was right and what was w r o n g.

These things shouldn't even sway the paths of the daughter of Hades, for there was no love between the two demigods, just a past that hinders their future.

the only way to win is to f i g h t.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

"You can't be serious."

The dark haired girl raised her eyebrows at Mya Brava, her lips twisting upwards into a smirk, her expression as if to say, test me.

"Jonathan, fucked it up," she explained, holding the newspaper near the flames as she stood near the fireplace. "-the arsehole will destroy everything."

She cast a glance over her shoulders and her words became stuck to her throat. No matter how warm the room might be, she felt cold and exposed as the door opened.

"Send him away, I do not wish to talk to him." Laleh ordered Mya, who looked at her pleadingly as if she was convincing the younger girl to talk to Jonathan.

"It's best for your interests to talk about this mess you've created." Mya sent Jonathan a curt nod as she walked over to the door, leaving with a slight click.

Laleh sneered while he smiled charmingly at her sister who bid them goodbye, leaving the two alone. There was a raw silence that enveloped the two of them, as they stood over the crackling inferno between their worlds.

The girl placed the newspaper on the f i r e, watching it as it burn, her eyes reflecting the flames, while her mind secretly wished that the blazing hatred inside her would burn Jonathan Wick alive with the Electress and eat out her deadly feelings.

"Laleh," he whispered softly and she knows that it might be the last time she would hear the name again. Nonetheless, she stayed quiet and tried her best to stop the tears.

The second time he calls her Laleh again, she brought her palms halfway to Jonathan's cheek, and she stops herself from slapping him.

this was not how it should've been.

"You took that name away from me, the moment you revealed everything to her.You took it away from me like how you let her take away my freedom." She falls to the floor, kneeling as she looked at him with her grey eyes brewing their own storm. "You watched her, you watched me! And you have done nothing to redeem yourself! You should be grateful that I do not have the courage to end your life."

"Kira," he called out for her name, the syllables flowing freely like it was being said by an a n g e l sent from above, and it hurts the daughter of Hades.

Mya shouldn't have left the two of them alone.

"Look at me," There was something different in his voice, the roughness no longer present, and his words felt more of a plea than anything else. "Don't do this to yourself."

"No," Her voice called out, closing her eyes as she heaved a deep breath. She was being stubborn, she knew that, but she did not want to take a risk. "You did this to me."

iamstrong.iamstrong.iamstrong.

Her mind repeated those words like a mantra, Jonathan's fingers roaming down Laleh's tear-filled cheeks as he slowly tilted her chin, letting her open her eyes.

Their gaze at each other was intrinsic, like it was the only thing they needed to survive the cruel world that their parents - the gods, ran.

Suddenly, there was the magnet between the two of them again, creating a pull as green clashed with blue in the heat of the moment, making her cherish his arms that slowly snaked down her waist with the feeling of his soft brown hair down his nape.

thiswasamistake.thiswasamistake.thiswasamistake.

The sentence echoed throughout her mind, biting her bottom lip, Jonathan noticing her sudden uncomfort as he tried to ease her worries.

And just like that, they were gone because this time, she didn't pull away.

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We are a literary agency seeking fresh talent. In 200 words or more, demonstrate your writing talent. We will be in touch with any and all promising participants throughout the rest of this quarter.
Written by naked-avenues
Of Aces and Poison
HISTORY WAS NEVER QUITE accurate for the matter. Laleh knows of that too well already, because she managed to live through every lie that the senate fed the citizens of the Republique. Laleh knew that what has been written in history books, no matter how inaccurate - was never going to be erased with the t r u t h that people choose to ignore.

That was exactly the case with the daughter of Hades and Prima Bakhtiar for their history traces back to both of their ancient (and divine) roots.

The Electress wasn't a saint, she was manipulative, cunning and ambitious - a trait which she could've passed on to her d e a d daughter.

The cold wind rushed over the bare skin of her shoulders, cursing the black, floor-length gown she had on. The silk felt chilly over her body, like it was just to drape her naked body — or there to mock her for choosing this path.

She was revolted on how exposed she felt standing in her balcony that overlooked the grandiose Republique. She knows that her past self would think that this would make her feel like a goddess but in reality, she felt much more intimate up there.

It seems like it was the place between gods and mortals and she feels stuck.n

Laleh was afraid to look beside her, where a charming young senator watched the night pass by with her. But he was not just a senator. He was her past, as he is her future.

And that is when she sees him pulling a cigarette from his suit, lighting it along with a smirk.

a smirk,
full of d e c e i t
and l i e s.
one fitted for
the d e v i l,
himself

She lets her self be taken to the past where she was standing in a crowd which was full of people that wasn't her kind, and her mind kept pondering.

he'soneofthem.he'soneofthem.he'soneofthem.

"I've thought about this a lot, you know." The son of Chronos snapped the girl out of her dark thoughts, his voice gruff from the harshness of the cool wind. "If you didn't run away, you'd be leading us right now."

"Do you really want to know why I became like this?" She shot him a pointed look and scoffed when she saw how he reacted to her question. She took the cigarette from his fingertips. "I did it for you."

"Why?" He only wants to hear the answer from her because deep inside, Jonathan knew what she was going to say. Laleh had already pieced out his plans, but she still wants him to know.

At least that he deserves, rather than a punishment of being associated with her in the first place.

"I did it because you needed it in your life, to make you feel something again." She coughed out a puff of smoke, avoiding his gaze. "I loved you. "

"Do you still?" He asked, his knuckles white because of his tight grip on the sub-zero railings. He waited for her answer and she could see something, something much greater if she could only say the word. "Do you still?"

She turned around and wrapped her arms around herself to keep her warm. She didn't bother to look back as she walked out.

Because after everything, she could never put it out of her mind that,

he is them.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

She was disappointed.

Waves of anger were already radiating from her like an ocean that was full of unpredictability. R a g e filled her green eyes like fire, making her tighten her hold on the wineglass she was holding, a scowl twisting her pale features.

"You really told her," Laleh scoffed mockingly while Jonathan approached her with a passive look flashing on his face. "Now, everything we both worked for will be destroyed. You brought this upon yourself."

"Promises are meant to be broken you know?" Jonathan reasoned out, taking the fragile glass that was in Laleh's hand, the glass looking as if it was about to shatter any minute by the girl's grip.

"But you didn't promise," The daughter of Hades sulked, blowing the stray hairs of her dark curls, trying to prevent herself from crying in frustration. "You told me. You made me think that you care and I think there's a difference in that."

"Why do you even care? You're here for the sake of your petty little Revolution, not because I am in love with you or anything." Jonathan growled, his temper growing shorter as he gazed at her face with the same fire in his blue eyes. "And I'd appreciate if you thanked me for giving you this advantage rather tampering with whatever position I have left here in the senate."

"What you want, you get." Laleh's words resonated between the two of them, seeing that she had struck a nerve upon him — his smug smile wiped away from his pretty face, affecting him with a daze of a past memory they had shared.

the soft exchange of short b r e a t h s and the echoes of g u t t u r a l moans.

the intimacy of being together; the n i g h t of the gala.

their human instinct; to be t o g e t h e r.

defying what was right and what was w r o n g.

These things shouldn't even sway the paths of the daughter of Hades, for there was no love between the two demigods, just a past that hinders their future.

the only way to win is to f i g h t.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

"You can't be serious."

The dark haired girl raised her eyebrows at Mya Brava, her lips twisting upwards into a smirk, her expression as if to say, test me.

"Jonathan, fucked it up," she explained, holding the newspaper near the flames as she stood near the fireplace. "-the arsehole will destroy everything."

She cast a glance over her shoulders and her words became stuck to her throat. No matter how warm the room might be, she felt cold and exposed as the door opened.

"Send him away, I do not wish to talk to him." Laleh ordered Mya, who looked at her pleadingly as if she was convincing the younger girl to talk to Jonathan.

"It's best for your interests to talk about this mess you've created." Mya sent Jonathan a curt nod as she walked over to the door, leaving with a slight click.

Laleh sneered while he smiled charmingly at her sister who bid them goodbye, leaving the two alone. There was a raw silence that enveloped the two of them, as they stood over the crackling inferno between their worlds.

The girl placed the newspaper on the f i r e, watching it as it burn, her eyes reflecting the flames, while her mind secretly wished that the blazing hatred inside her would burn Jonathan Wick alive with the Electress and eat out her deadly feelings.

"Laleh," he whispered softly and she knows that it might be the last time she would hear the name again. Nonetheless, she stayed quiet and tried her best to stop the tears.

The second time he calls her Laleh again, she brought her palms halfway to Jonathan's cheek, and she stops herself from slapping him.

this was not how it should've been.

"You took that name away from me, the moment you revealed everything to her.You took it away from me like how you let her take away my freedom." She falls to the floor, kneeling as she looked at him with her grey eyes brewing their own storm. "You watched her, you watched me! And you have done nothing to redeem yourself! You should be grateful that I do not have the courage to end your life."

"Kira," he called out for her name, the syllables flowing freely like it was being said by an a n g e l sent from above, and it hurts the daughter of Hades.

Mya shouldn't have left the two of them alone.

"Look at me," There was something different in his voice, the roughness no longer present, and his words felt more of a plea than anything else. "Don't do this to yourself."

"No," Her voice called out, closing her eyes as she heaved a deep breath. She was being stubborn, she knew that, but she did not want to take a risk. "You did this to me."

iamstrong.iamstrong.iamstrong.

Her mind repeated those words like a mantra, Jonathan's fingers roaming down Laleh's tear-filled cheeks as he slowly tilted her chin, letting her open her eyes.

Their gaze at each other was intrinsic, like it was the only thing they needed to survive the cruel world that their parents - the gods, ran.

Suddenly, there was the magnet between the two of them again, creating a pull as green clashed with blue in the heat of the moment, making her cherish his arms that slowly snaked down her waist with the feeling of his soft brown hair down his nape.

thiswasamistake.thiswasamistake.thiswasamistake.

The sentence echoed throughout her mind, biting her bottom lip, Jonathan noticing her sudden uncomfort as he tried to ease her worries.

And just like that, they were gone because this time, she didn't pull away.
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We are a literary agency seeking fresh talent. In 200 words or more, demonstrate your writing talent. We will be in touch with any and all promising participants throughout the rest of this quarter.
Written by ChanelleJoy

LADY OF THE LAKE

The moon shone bright upon this night

As I took my midnight stroll

The stars twinkled majestically

Giving life to this weary soul

Then I saw her by the lake

Her face serene & pale as milk

She wore a dress of satin & lace

Her golden hair glistened like ivory silk

I almost stumbled as I walked

I could not help but stop & stare

Such a beauty I had never seen

So precious & so very rare

I could not tear my eyes away

I did not even dare to blink

Lest this pure & marvelous sight

Should vanish before I took my drink

She turned & caught me with her gaze

& beckoned me draw nearer

I tried to still my enamored heart

It's desire had never been clearer

On shaky legs I took a step

A smile touched her luscious lips

My feet moved of their own volition

In a rapture I could not eclipse

I was drawing closer, ever nearer

Towards this woman by the lake

There was no fear, only a thrill

A desperate longing like a pleasant ache

Then suddenly the ache was gone

Consumed & lost in sweet perfume

As I now stood before her grace

My yearning bleeding in full bloom

She reached for me with dainty hand

& drew me to her supple bosom

Capturing me in her embrace

Her manner almost fulsome

She held me tight, her lips found mine

I thought that I would surely drown

I would have gone without a struggle

Letting her slowly drag me down

It was nothing I had felt before

It was a drug, I would never get enough

Of this broiling, sultry torment

I was standing on a golden bluff

How long we kissed, I cannot say

I was clay within her hands

My body burned, ablaze with passion

I gave in to her brazen demands

She pushed me down onto the grass

& somehow her dress simply fell away

Oh how her porcelain skin did glow

So much so she must surely be fey

It mattered not one whit to me

Whether she be fairy, witch or vampire

She took me with such brutal force

& together we soared, flew higher & higher

Finally, we touched the ground

In drunken bliss we took our rest

The heady scent of love our blanket

She lay her head upon my chest

I must have dozed for when I woke

My Lady of the Lake was no longer there

I quickly jumped to my feet

For my undressed state I did not care

Frantically I searched for her

& breathed a sigh of pure relief

She stood waist deep within the lake

A breathtaking sight beyond belief

"My lady," I called so reverently

"Why art thou standing in the lake?"

She turned to me a face of pain

It was more than I could take

I plunged myself into the water

& made my way to stand beside her

I took her gently in my arms

This gift more valuable than myrrh

"My lady," I whispered softly

"What does trouble you so?"

She answered with a tear on her cheek

"I am afraid, good Sir, that I must go."

"Go?" I exclaimed in a stupor

"Whatever do you mean?

How can you leave so easily

When I would make you my Queen?"

She smiled sadly & shook her head

"Dear Sir, you do not know me

& you would really rather not.

Trust me, please, you will see."

"Nonsense!" I spat in utter defiance

"I believe I know you rather well!"

She blushed & laughed so prettily

Like the tinkling of a tiny bell

But then she turned quite serious

"I am not what you think me to be.

I do not belong here in your world.

I merely have a key."

I did not understand a word she spoke

Yet my heart fell heavily to my feet

Somehow I knew this was the end

& never again would we meet

"I will always remember you,"

She said with a final kiss

"My handsome midnight stranger

Who I will forever miss."

"Please wait," I pleaded helplessly

"I do not even know your name.

Pray tell me this, at least I beg

For I will never be the same."

She paused & looked at me askance

As though I'd asked what i should not

"I am known by the name Talina.

Now you know, it ought not be forgot."

"How could I forget such a treasure?

I have sealed you within my heart!

Your name is honey to my lips

I was beholden to you from the start!"

"Dear Sir, you speak so kindly,

Yet would you if you knew the truth?

I want to tell you yet I fear to speak

I do not want you to find me uncouth."

"Never. Never would I see you so

This I can most easily promise to you

& sure as my name is Ezra Daye

I swear to you that it is true."

"Ezra," her tongue caressed my name

Sending shivers down my spine

I knew that whoever, whatever she was

For this woman I would always pine

She must have seen it in my eyes

For she breathed more steadily

I for one, held my breathe

As she spoke now readily

"I live within the water

This lake here is my home

I am called a Nymph, you see

& by the water is where I roam.

This is why I must leave you here

For I cannot always come ashore

Except for once each twenty years

I am bound to the lake's sandy floor."

She blinked when all I did was smile

I was not overly surprised

That she was not quite human

I had already devised

"My Talina, Lady of the Lake

I had already suspected

Your beauty could not possibly be mortal

& by me you will never be rejected.

You say you come ashore

Once every twenty years

Then here I will wait for you

So please, shed no more tears."

"You pledge your life to me?"

She asked incredulously

"Then for you I have a gift

A cure for mortality.

I cannot take you with me

A Nymph you can never become

But I can grant you life eternal

Turn your heartbeat to an immortal drum.

Will you accept what I offer thee?

Forsooth, it is not a common thing

But I cannot fathom life without you

You have made my spirit sing."

There was no hesitation

I agreed immediately

She pushed my head beneath the surface

& I went down obediently

She held me in her loving arms

As she brought me to the brink of death

My vision faded & darkness grew

I struggled for my final breath

I thought I must have played the fool

As I saw my whole life flash by

But then she lifted me up again

& I could hear her cry

"I am sorry this is the only way!

Now quickly, drink & you will live!"

She brought her dripping lips to mine

"My tears & breath to you I give!"

I tasted salt & something fresh

Like liquid snow it chilled my breast

I gasped & shook quite violently

As I was wrapped in an icy vest

Soon enough, my skin turned warm

My eyes opened & air filled my lungs

I could feel something changed within

I had begun the climb up eternity's rungs

I held my dear Talina close

I scarcely could believe my luck

How had I, a simple man

Found this chance from fate to pluck

The horizon blazed with dawn's first rays

Reflected on this shimmering surface

Our first night together drew to an end

But in each other we found our purpose

"Must I truly wait for twenty years

To see you & hold you again once more?"

Even though we had forever

This thought made my poor heart sore

"You can see me easily enough,

But only while I am below

I cannot break the surface

To do so would be my death blow."

Though it pained me, I understood

Yet I held her for as long as I could

& kissed her till we lost our breath

Nearly falling where we stood

Alas, the time for goodbye came

& I caressed her one more time

To memorise her every feature

Note it down in song & rhyme

Before the sun god rose in full

She disappeared without a ripple

I searched the water fruitlessly

The day had marred it with its stipple

& so now I wait for twenty years

But I will come here every day

To catch a glimpse of my lover's face

The Lady of the Lake, my beloved fey

BY: ME (Chanelle Joy)

3rd Nov 2016

COPYRIGHT: CJ

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We are a literary agency seeking fresh talent. In 200 words or more, demonstrate your writing talent. We will be in touch with any and all promising participants throughout the rest of this quarter.
Written by ChanelleJoy
LADY OF THE LAKE
The moon shone bright upon this night
As I took my midnight stroll
The stars twinkled majestically
Giving life to this weary soul

Then I saw her by the lake
Her face serene & pale as milk
She wore a dress of satin & lace
Her golden hair glistened like ivory silk

I almost stumbled as I walked
I could not help but stop & stare
Such a beauty I had never seen
So precious & so very rare

I could not tear my eyes away
I did not even dare to blink
Lest this pure & marvelous sight
Should vanish before I took my drink

She turned & caught me with her gaze
& beckoned me draw nearer
I tried to still my enamored heart
It's desire had never been clearer

On shaky legs I took a step
A smile touched her luscious lips
My feet moved of their own volition
In a rapture I could not eclipse

I was drawing closer, ever nearer
Towards this woman by the lake
There was no fear, only a thrill
A desperate longing like a pleasant ache

Then suddenly the ache was gone
Consumed & lost in sweet perfume
As I now stood before her grace
My yearning bleeding in full bloom

She reached for me with dainty hand
& drew me to her supple bosom
Capturing me in her embrace
Her manner almost fulsome

She held me tight, her lips found mine
I thought that I would surely drown
I would have gone without a struggle
Letting her slowly drag me down

It was nothing I had felt before
It was a drug, I would never get enough
Of this broiling, sultry torment
I was standing on a golden bluff

How long we kissed, I cannot say
I was clay within her hands
My body burned, ablaze with passion
I gave in to her brazen demands

She pushed me down onto the grass
& somehow her dress simply fell away
Oh how her porcelain skin did glow
So much so she must surely be fey

It mattered not one whit to me
Whether she be fairy, witch or vampire
She took me with such brutal force
& together we soared, flew higher & higher

Finally, we touched the ground
In drunken bliss we took our rest
The heady scent of love our blanket
She lay her head upon my chest

I must have dozed for when I woke
My Lady of the Lake was no longer there
I quickly jumped to my feet
For my undressed state I did not care

Frantically I searched for her
& breathed a sigh of pure relief
She stood waist deep within the lake
A breathtaking sight beyond belief

"My lady," I called so reverently
"Why art thou standing in the lake?"
She turned to me a face of pain
It was more than I could take

I plunged myself into the water
& made my way to stand beside her
I took her gently in my arms
This gift more valuable than myrrh

"My lady," I whispered softly
"What does trouble you so?"
She answered with a tear on her cheek
"I am afraid, good Sir, that I must go."

"Go?" I exclaimed in a stupor
"Whatever do you mean?
How can you leave so easily
When I would make you my Queen?"

She smiled sadly & shook her head
"Dear Sir, you do not know me
& you would really rather not.
Trust me, please, you will see."

"Nonsense!" I spat in utter defiance
"I believe I know you rather well!"
She blushed & laughed so prettily
Like the tinkling of a tiny bell

But then she turned quite serious
"I am not what you think me to be.
I do not belong here in your world.
I merely have a key."

I did not understand a word she spoke
Yet my heart fell heavily to my feet
Somehow I knew this was the end
& never again would we meet

"I will always remember you,"
She said with a final kiss
"My handsome midnight stranger
Who I will forever miss."

"Please wait," I pleaded helplessly
"I do not even know your name.
Pray tell me this, at least I beg
For I will never be the same."

She paused & looked at me askance
As though I'd asked what i should not
"I am known by the name Talina.
Now you know, it ought not be forgot."

"How could I forget such a treasure?
I have sealed you within my heart!
Your name is honey to my lips
I was beholden to you from the start!"

"Dear Sir, you speak so kindly,
Yet would you if you knew the truth?
I want to tell you yet I fear to speak
I do not want you to find me uncouth."

"Never. Never would I see you so
This I can most easily promise to you
& sure as my name is Ezra Daye
I swear to you that it is true."

"Ezra," her tongue caressed my name
Sending shivers down my spine
I knew that whoever, whatever she was
For this woman I would always pine

She must have seen it in my eyes
For she breathed more steadily
I for one, held my breathe
As she spoke now readily

"I live within the water
This lake here is my home
I am called a Nymph, you see
& by the water is where I roam.
This is why I must leave you here
For I cannot always come ashore
Except for once each twenty years
I am bound to the lake's sandy floor."

She blinked when all I did was smile
I was not overly surprised
That she was not quite human
I had already devised

"My Talina, Lady of the Lake
I had already suspected
Your beauty could not possibly be mortal
& by me you will never be rejected.
You say you come ashore
Once every twenty years
Then here I will wait for you
So please, shed no more tears."

"You pledge your life to me?"
She asked incredulously
"Then for you I have a gift
A cure for mortality.
I cannot take you with me
A Nymph you can never become
But I can grant you life eternal
Turn your heartbeat to an immortal drum.
Will you accept what I offer thee?
Forsooth, it is not a common thing
But I cannot fathom life without you
You have made my spirit sing."

There was no hesitation
I agreed immediately
She pushed my head beneath the surface
& I went down obediently

She held me in her loving arms
As she brought me to the brink of death
My vision faded & darkness grew
I struggled for my final breath

I thought I must have played the fool
As I saw my whole life flash by
But then she lifted me up again
& I could hear her cry

"I am sorry this is the only way!
Now quickly, drink & you will live!"
She brought her dripping lips to mine
"My tears & breath to you I give!"

I tasted salt & something fresh
Like liquid snow it chilled my breast
I gasped & shook quite violently
As I was wrapped in an icy vest

Soon enough, my skin turned warm
My eyes opened & air filled my lungs
I could feel something changed within
I had begun the climb up eternity's rungs

I held my dear Talina close
I scarcely could believe my luck
How had I, a simple man
Found this chance from fate to pluck

The horizon blazed with dawn's first rays
Reflected on this shimmering surface
Our first night together drew to an end
But in each other we found our purpose

"Must I truly wait for twenty years
To see you & hold you again once more?"
Even though we had forever
This thought made my poor heart sore

"You can see me easily enough,
But only while I am below
I cannot break the surface
To do so would be my death blow."

Though it pained me, I understood
Yet I held her for as long as I could
& kissed her till we lost our breath
Nearly falling where we stood

Alas, the time for goodbye came
& I caressed her one more time
To memorise her every feature
Note it down in song & rhyme

Before the sun god rose in full
She disappeared without a ripple
I searched the water fruitlessly
The day had marred it with its stipple

& so now I wait for twenty years
But I will come here every day
To catch a glimpse of my lover's face
The Lady of the Lake, my beloved fey

BY: ME (Chanelle Joy)
3rd Nov 2016
COPYRIGHT: CJ

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