A butterfly. How delicately she flies, how softly her wings indent the breeze, so fragile, so yet undeniably beautiful. She had often found herself wondering, how such a faint being can take flight, against the continuous forces rising against her. Yet once again the wings keep beating, unfazed and unaltered by fear. Can a being with such a dainty appearance remain true of heart, when all around her seems lost?
Is this true of all that surrounds us? we are each given choices, we are all alike, are we this butterfly? Are your wings beating in desperation to keep some how airborne, or are you riding with a wind of triumph, with endless gumption?
If Lila was to answer this question a year ago, she most probably would have met it head on and her brash and incoherent way of thinking would have decided upon the easiest answer, a lie. She would have told you with total conviction that she was happy. Its so easy to lie, her mind wondered again, no one gets hurt that way. As she lay on the damp, sodden grass beneath her she could so easily have lie once more.
The distraction came at last from a speck of water, that landed harsh against her check, then joined by another and the gentle pitter- patter of the heavens began. Her mind once again launched into an ferocious internal battling, this time with the concept of moving. Now this could prove immensely difficult.
Eventually her mind gained the higher ground and her bodies feeble attempt of disagreement fell with what had now turned into a fully fledged down-pour.
This was quite tediously common of Crookhaven, the rain fell as easily as the perpetual sound of Perry Cider into pouring into pint glasses, as local merchant sailors frequented the local public house and amerced themselves in deep conversations about the ‘good-old days’. An Ye old Fish, as it was appropriately named, was a typical pub. Lila had always avoided it just as much as her irrational, bag of a grandmother, the smell of ash trays and incandescent light was enough to make her begins to relish in the idea of wondering into the precipitous rocks of old Isorease.
Lila, herself, could not actually pint point in her knowledgeable and quite substantial mind, when there had ever been any sign of the ‘good-old days’ in Crookhaven. As far as she was concerned the only time she could remember, was when a professor Lane introduced her to the concept of Global warming. This, as far as she was concerned, was the only plus side to the endless, repetitive lashing of waves, that filled her apparently condemned head, constantly. The idea that the island on which she believe kept her captive, would one day become no more than an indistinct rock, thrilled her beyond belief and managed to somehow keep her afloat in a place she would never, call home.
She wanted nothing more than to sprout wings and fly back to civilisation, although doubts once more filled her head, could she, invisible, normal and totally descript little Lila, survive in the real world, exciting and invigorating. She could not even approach, let alone be friend the monotonous people who occupied that which most called school, what hope would she have, none, there would be coffin ready and waiting at the dock of the mainland and before her insignificant feet even touch perfection, it would once more be snatched from her grasp and they would nail her inside with a note ‘ Lila Meyers, not worth the effort’.
This though made her chuckle, as the dark, matted, mess that was once a golden brown lay limp on her pale face.......................
Is this true of all that surrounds us? we are each given choices, we are all alike, are we this butterfly? Are your wings beating in desperation to keep some how airborne, or are you riding with a wind of triumph, with endless gumption?
If Lila was to answer this question a year ago, she most probably would have met it head on and her brash and incoherent way of thinking would have decided upon the easiest answer, a lie. She would have told you with total conviction that she was happy. Its so easy to lie, her mind wondered again, no one gets hurt that way. As she lay on the damp, sodden grass beneath her she could so easily have lie once more.
The distraction came at last from a speck of water, that landed harsh against her check, then joined by another and the gentle pitter- patter of the heavens began. Her mind once again launched into an ferocious internal battling, this time with the concept of moving. Now this could prove immensely difficult.
Eventually her mind gained the higher ground and her bodies feeble attempt of disagreement fell with what had now turned into a fully fledged down-pour.
This was quite tediously common of Crookhaven, the rain fell as easily as the perpetual sound of Perry Cider into pouring into pint glasses, as local merchant sailors frequented the local public house and amerced themselves in deep conversations about the ‘good-old days’. An Ye old Fish, as it was appropriately named, was a typical pub. Lila had always avoided it just as much as her irrational, bag of a grandmother, the smell of ash trays and incandescent light was enough to make her begins to relish in the idea of wondering into the precipitous rocks of old Isorease.
Lila, herself, could not actually pint point in her knowledgeable and quite substantial mind, when there had ever been any sign of the ‘good-old days’ in Crookhaven. As far as she was concerned the only time she could remember, was when a professor Lane introduced her to the concept of Global warming. This, as far as she was concerned, was the only plus side to the endless, repetitive lashing of waves, that filled her apparently condemned head, constantly. The idea that the island on which she believe kept her captive, would one day become no more than an indistinct rock, thrilled her beyond belief and managed to somehow keep her afloat in a place she would never, call home.
She wanted nothing more than to sprout wings and fly back to civilisation, although doubts once more filled her head, could she, invisible, normal and totally descript little Lila, survive in the real world, exciting and invigorating. She could not even approach, let alone be friend the monotonous people who occupied that which most called school, what hope would she have, none, there would be coffin ready and waiting at the dock of the mainland and before her insignificant feet even touch perfection, it would once more be snatched from her grasp and they would nail her inside with a note ‘ Lila Meyers, not worth the effort’.
This though made her chuckle, as the dark, matted, mess that was once a golden brown lay limp on her pale face.......................
Hi my name is Amanda and I have helped a few people out on fanpop. I'm in a college English course and wanted to put up and ad for myself! Anyone looking for an editor for there fan fiction I'm the one. I do not changes stories I just add more descriptive elements like how stephanie Myers is so descriptive. You can email your story at CoolMandyz43@Aol.com and then I will send them back to you and you can post it or change somethings I did. I would love to write my own fan fiction but I'm not a great idea person but I can really edit stories to the point of perfection! So anyone who wants a helping POV get at me!
Edward's Pov.
I wake up, finding myself asleep, in ropes, mouth covered. Everyone else is sleeping,
and I can't break myself out of it. Then, Jasper and the man, come in. I pretend to sleep.
"Should we do it now? Or later?"
"The killing of Bella? We will wait until she goes through what these guys experienced,
then, we will do them first. Then her."
No. No. NO!!!!! I must get my self out of this! I must find Bella and fast!!
What am I going to do! I can't get myself out!
Rosalie: Uh...
Jasper: Looks like sumbody's up! Can we do it now master? Please!?
Just so I know what to do with the others?
Master: Alright, but just her.
Rosalie: AH Mrjekjsnubgu!!!
NO!!! NOT ROSALIE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I wake up, finding myself asleep, in ropes, mouth covered. Everyone else is sleeping,
and I can't break myself out of it. Then, Jasper and the man, come in. I pretend to sleep.
"Should we do it now? Or later?"
"The killing of Bella? We will wait until she goes through what these guys experienced,
then, we will do them first. Then her."
No. No. NO!!!!! I must get my self out of this! I must find Bella and fast!!
What am I going to do! I can't get myself out!
Rosalie: Uh...
Jasper: Looks like sumbody's up! Can we do it now master? Please!?
Just so I know what to do with the others?
Master: Alright, but just her.
Rosalie: AH Mrjekjsnubgu!!!
NO!!! NOT ROSALIE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Now they don't say where they went they don't really exclain why they went AND people say reading can't hurt you! I got a huge head ach and i am a little dizzy. LIVING PROOF! I now know how brittanie spears felt when she didn't know what to do.I can't really think about anything more for this- see ya tomoorow! You think i ended it bad ? well least it isn't like sapranos where they stop in the midlle of a sent- .....
HOPE YOU ENJOY MY NEW ARTICLE SERIES!
(ps. don't worry i am nothing like the sapranos! and my next article will be longer!)
When we reached my home mason was crying and reenesme was trying to comfort her little brother.Alice and esme were talking very fast so I only caught little bits and pieces of the conversation .But it seemed that we were going to have to wait till edward and jacob and the other boys came back.while esme and alice were disscussing the subject reenesme and i were trying to comfort mason.At the same time i was worriying about edward I noticed reenesme looked very deep in thought.Then alll of the sudden esme is calling me ,my daughter,and my son to come quickly.Whehn we got there alice looked like she would be crying if she could cry.When I asked her what was wrong all she managed to choke out was Edward.Imediatly I knew something very bad had happened.