Creative Writing.
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Published Writings
Why I stole it...
Why I stole it…. I really couldn’t tell you why. Why would someone go through all this effort just to steal a simple lunchbox? It’s not worth much, if anything. The original owner might not even notice it’s gone, which is precisely why I had to steal it. You look at this lunchbox, and you see trash. Dents in the side of the metal box. The once colorful paint decorating the outside, now muted and chipped. Absolutely useless. But I look at this lunchbox, and it brings me to a new place. It takes me from the cold streets of New York, to Monday mornings back home. My mom woke up bright and early every day when I was in elementary school. She made my breakfast then packed me the same thing for lunch as she had the day before, it was a routine. Turkey and cheese sandwich, crust cut-off, and a bag of chips. Any other lunch would be brought back home, untouched. But that was then. Now this sad, old lunch box reminds me of what I had before. I’m not the young child I was back then. I don’t jump out of bed in the mornings, excited to see what the day brings me. I walk downstairs, all alone, nobody there to wake me up. I step into my small kitchen, nobody there making breakfast or lunch. I continue my repetitive day on end, nobody there to make it better. I have nobody. I have nothing. Nothing except for this lunchbox.
Sink Your Teeth Into It. |
Rue Saint-Jacques |
Remember Me |
Silhouette on the hill
It was past midnight. I shouldn’t have been out that late anyway, but I couldn’t stay at that party anymore. My friend had offered to drive me home earlier during the party, but after finding out I wanted to leave early, she dropped me. I didn’t feel safe driving with anyone else. I left it up to myself to walk. It felt like a good idea at the time. I live only a short 10 minute walk from the party, and I needed to go home.
The walk was normal. There were a few crunches of leaves in the woods, or miscellaneous animal sounds, but I never felt like I was in danger. That was until I looked up to the hill. There was a figure standing on the top of the hill. It looked human-like, until it began to walk, showing off its mutated features. The creature began to limp towards me, slowly. I picked my pace up, but stayed walking. I continuously looked back, seeing the strange monster get closer and closer to me by the step. I broke into a sprint. I was only one minute away from my house at this point, but it seemed like an eternity. I spent the last few seconds sprinting as fast as my legs could take me, while my eyes pierced the creature behind me, watching his every move. It seemed like he could catch me at any moment. When I finally reached my house, I turned my eyes away from it, making my way into my house while my heart raced. But when I peered out the window to see where he had gone, emptiness.
The walk was normal. There were a few crunches of leaves in the woods, or miscellaneous animal sounds, but I never felt like I was in danger. That was until I looked up to the hill. There was a figure standing on the top of the hill. It looked human-like, until it began to walk, showing off its mutated features. The creature began to limp towards me, slowly. I picked my pace up, but stayed walking. I continuously looked back, seeing the strange monster get closer and closer to me by the step. I broke into a sprint. I was only one minute away from my house at this point, but it seemed like an eternity. I spent the last few seconds sprinting as fast as my legs could take me, while my eyes pierced the creature behind me, watching his every move. It seemed like he could catch me at any moment. When I finally reached my house, I turned my eyes away from it, making my way into my house while my heart raced. But when I peered out the window to see where he had gone, emptiness.
Room
I told her time and time again to clean her room, and she finally had. It wasn’t nearly as clean as I wanted it to be, but it was better. But now, it’s like I took her away from me. This room isn’t hers. Her things are everywhere, scattered from corner to corner, but all her clothes are put away, with no stray shirts lying on the ground. Any normal day, I would have yelled at her for not cleaning her room completely before going out, but I’m glad she didn’t. There is still a small piece of her messy life living in her room.
A ring of scrunchies lays on her dresser. On her Christmas list a few years ago “scrunchies” made the top spot. I had got her a few, but now and entire hair clip was dedicated to them. I haven’t seen her leave the house without a scrunchie on her wrist or pulling her unbrushed brown hair back in a while.
Her dance bag sits prominently in the corner. Today, it’s filled with beat up and worn out shoes. Each shoe being useful on stage. Her shoes used to be so tiny. Every week, when it was her first year of dance, I put her in perfectly pink tights and a black leotard. When we got to the studio together, I helped her slip on her ballet shoes. I stayed the whole hour, watching her learn the very basics. I wish I had known then the dancer she would become. Every moment on stage, every recital and competition, I will never forget the excited stress that radiated from her shining smile.
A ring of scrunchies lays on her dresser. On her Christmas list a few years ago “scrunchies” made the top spot. I had got her a few, but now and entire hair clip was dedicated to them. I haven’t seen her leave the house without a scrunchie on her wrist or pulling her unbrushed brown hair back in a while.
Her dance bag sits prominently in the corner. Today, it’s filled with beat up and worn out shoes. Each shoe being useful on stage. Her shoes used to be so tiny. Every week, when it was her first year of dance, I put her in perfectly pink tights and a black leotard. When we got to the studio together, I helped her slip on her ballet shoes. I stayed the whole hour, watching her learn the very basics. I wish I had known then the dancer she would become. Every moment on stage, every recital and competition, I will never forget the excited stress that radiated from her shining smile.
Red Bicycle, Blue Seas
White. That’s all I saw as I slid down the hill, no way of getting off.
I was so excited to start sledding with my two older siblings. For years, I had to sit off on the side in all of my snow gear, watching my siblings scream in joy as they rushed down the snowy hill. Finally, my dad decided I was old enough. We carried a sled out onto the large hill I had in my backyard. There was a perfectly straight path that led directly into my neighbor's yard, perfect for sledding.
My dad sat me down on the hill and went over some rules with me:
After a few seconds of sledding, I heard my dad yell behind me. I couldn’t quite make out what he was trying to say, he was too far and the wind was too loud. I turned around to see him, and he was sprinting towards me, waving his hands in the air. I couldn’t tell what was wrong. I was having fun and there weren’t any trees in my way. When I finally turned my head back around, I saw the problem.
My neighbors deck was less than 3 inches from my face. I closed my eyes and opened my mouth to scream, but nothing came out. When I opened my eyes back up, I was lying face up to the sky. Only my head was peaking out, with the rest of my body underneath the deck. My dad was by my side in an instant. He immediately lifted me up and began to walk me back to the house, apologizing with every step he took.
As I looked back at the beaten down path my sled had made, I saw the whole I had made through the wooden deck from impact.
I was so excited to start sledding with my two older siblings. For years, I had to sit off on the side in all of my snow gear, watching my siblings scream in joy as they rushed down the snowy hill. Finally, my dad decided I was old enough. We carried a sled out onto the large hill I had in my backyard. There was a perfectly straight path that led directly into my neighbor's yard, perfect for sledding.
My dad sat me down on the hill and went over some rules with me:
- Hang on to the sled at all times
- Walk back up through your path once you are done
- If you see a tree in your path, jump off
After a few seconds of sledding, I heard my dad yell behind me. I couldn’t quite make out what he was trying to say, he was too far and the wind was too loud. I turned around to see him, and he was sprinting towards me, waving his hands in the air. I couldn’t tell what was wrong. I was having fun and there weren’t any trees in my way. When I finally turned my head back around, I saw the problem.
My neighbors deck was less than 3 inches from my face. I closed my eyes and opened my mouth to scream, but nothing came out. When I opened my eyes back up, I was lying face up to the sky. Only my head was peaking out, with the rest of my body underneath the deck. My dad was by my side in an instant. He immediately lifted me up and began to walk me back to the house, apologizing with every step he took.
As I looked back at the beaten down path my sled had made, I saw the whole I had made through the wooden deck from impact.
Heart Beat |
Dear Past Self... |
Train Tracks |
Home |
Sensory Writing
The house was seemingly normal. The tacky orange and purple lights shining onto the house illuminated its basic white paneling in the front around the front door. The sight of this basic house calmed my nerves, until I heard muffled screams coming from the backyard. My palms began to sweat as I looked towards my friends for comfort. We slowly opened the car door and clambered out of our seats. Eyebrows scrunched, we all took a wary step onto the dark green lawn and began our short journey to the back of the house.
Through the crunch of the dewy grass, the loud exhales of our worried breathing filled the nervous silence.I was suddenly blinded by the flashing strobe lights, as we opened the creaky gate to the backyard. When my eyes finally adjusted to my surroundings, I was greeted by people of all ages dressed from head to toe in special effects makeup. From mutated skin to fake blood, my heart beat faster with each person I looked at.
Distant music filled my ears as I made my way through the decorated yard. By the end of the trail, I couldn’t identify what was playing anymore, all my focus was set on the characters surrounding my group. The warm smell of fire and smores weaved through my nose as I got closer to the end. The smoke floating through the air motivated me to get through the last part of this horrifying experience. I grasped my friends hand and had her lead me through the last portion of the haunted house, squeezing my eyes as she led the way.
When we had finally made it to the end, a calming relief came over my entire body, cooling down my red hot face. I made my way over to the burning fire, grabbing a marshmallow on the way.
A chilled gust of wind rushed past the group and sparked goosebumps up my arms, similar to the ones I had had just moments before when being greeted by yet another person in terrifying makeup. Suddenly, a feeling of warmth came over me as I looked around the people surrounding the fire. Piles of leaves engulfed their feet as they wrapped themselves up in blankets, over their clothing layers, protecting themselves from the cold. Hot chocolate, warmed both my hands and my heart as I took in the true, wonderful feeling of Halloween.
Friend
No person is your friend who demands your silence, or denies your right to grow.
No matter how long you’ve known them
No matter how long you’ve loved them
No matter how long you’ve considered them your best friend
No person is your friend who demands your silence, or denies your right to grow.
Especially if you feel like you have to change your personality
Especially if you are uncomfortable with their judgmental views
Especially if you are scared of what they may say
No person is your friend who demands your silence, or denies your right to grow.
No matter how long you’ve known them
No matter how long you’ve loved them
No matter how long you’ve considered them your best friend
No person is your friend who demands your silence, or denies your right to grow.
Especially if you feel like you have to change your personality
Especially if you are uncomfortable with their judgmental views
Especially if you are scared of what they may say
No person is your friend who demands your silence, or denies your right to grow.
Quote Story
“He pulled a sheet from his inside pocket of his red jack, straightened it and passed it to her”
She took the note from his hand with caution, and slowly opened it, looking into his eyes. A hint of remorse flooded past his crystal blue eyes and down onto his cheeks. She opened up the letter, revealing a long letter, filled with emotion, memories, and regret. She began to scan the words on the page quickly, as she couldn’t spend to much time because he was still standing right in front of her. Words began to pop of the page, floating through the air and surrounding her clustered mind. “Love.” “Long time coming.” “Different people” “Don’t work”. And finally, to close off the letter “it’s over.”
She slowly brought her eyes back up, meeting his, but he immediately looked off to the ground. His shyness. His want for a lack of controversy. His lack of words. She knew he could never do this in person. He knew he wouldn’t be able to find the words if he didn’t write them out.
“I’m sorry”, were the only two words that were able to escape from his lips before he turned around and walked away. Down the hall. Out the doors. Into his car. And gone. For good.
She took the note from his hand with caution, and slowly opened it, looking into his eyes. A hint of remorse flooded past his crystal blue eyes and down onto his cheeks. She opened up the letter, revealing a long letter, filled with emotion, memories, and regret. She began to scan the words on the page quickly, as she couldn’t spend to much time because he was still standing right in front of her. Words began to pop of the page, floating through the air and surrounding her clustered mind. “Love.” “Long time coming.” “Different people” “Don’t work”. And finally, to close off the letter “it’s over.”
She slowly brought her eyes back up, meeting his, but he immediately looked off to the ground. His shyness. His want for a lack of controversy. His lack of words. She knew he could never do this in person. He knew he wouldn’t be able to find the words if he didn’t write them out.
“I’m sorry”, were the only two words that were able to escape from his lips before he turned around and walked away. Down the hall. Out the doors. Into his car. And gone. For good.
Setting Story
I Believe Podcast
I Believe | |
File Size: | 5158 kb |
File Type: | m4a |