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posted by jeweleryfan11
It has been 10 years since she learned how to be a real warrior. She had straight, long, golden hair instead of curly goldilocks like when she was 8. She had blue eyes that could be the ocean. And her skin was so fair she could be snow white. Except Snow White wasn’t like Allyson. She was more rough than she was. She finally needed to know. “ Master light. I must speak to my parents,” she said. “You cannot,” master light said. “ Why not?,” Allyson, now asked. “Red star. The prophecy has come. You must know. All of the youngins must know once they turn 18. But first you must come to the meeting,” master light answered. “But why can I not talk to my parents? I might have younger siblings I might have to talk to. What if I have a cousins. Or-,” Red star said before getting cut off. “You do not have cousins, or siblings. You have no family. You were supposed to be the only one in your family left,” Master light said, disappointing Allyson. Does that mean, my parents are dead. HOW DID THEY DIE?!,” she said disappointedly. “ In a plane crash. You might not remember how they looked. But they are in the spirit group,” he pointed to a box. “ So they are not dead,” she asked. “No. They are trapped in a time box. That will only be opened by the key of Radnor. Everyone tried. But only our greatest warriors survived,” he said, “ you are young. 18 is not ready.” “But how old was Red Lord. He was the greatest warrior. And he freed his parents and came back! He was only 17! A year younger than me!! Can I at least say something to them?,” Allyson protested. “Alright. You have 10 minutes,” he said.
posted by fiestagirl12345
Kalie's P.O.V


we saw the zombies coming our direction.we got our arrows ready. we were slowly walkinng when Anny falls on a coprse. we saw it was the scientist,. she screams in a high pitched. i wuickly cover her mouth. one zombie came by the pale grey skin. peeled bloody patches. white grey eyes. the rotten meat odor. i shoot it wtih the bullet. the blood flying. we went runnig. so we were the only ones alive. thats why the testers wanted us. they thought we were effected. well we are clean. for now. we kept running the growling of zombies behind us. i trun and see one of them grab anny's neck. i shoot them and they fall guts going. i grab her and check her. luckily she was alright. i sigh in relief and carry her over my shoulder. we were runnig when their was a cliff. now what?
I need to stop and catch my breath but I can't.

I have to keep running even if I die trying. I wouldn't let them win; couldn't let them win. They're getting closer now.

Have you ever had those dreams where you feel like you're running at the speed of light but you're hardly moving? That's how I feel now. No matter how hard I try, it's like no effort is made. Not like my nightgown was helping.

I keep running, not even knowing what's chasing me. All I know is, they're hungry for flesh and blood; my flesh and blood. I don't know why. I don't know how this happened. I don't even know where I am; all...
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Hiya! First stab at adding something I wrote to the writing spot. This is a cliche little story inspired by the Mayday Parade song "One Man Drinking Games." Comments would mean the world. (:

And you swore you saw me laughing, and I swore I saw you smile
And the time we've spent together was meant to last us quite a while
As I take this piece of you with me I'll carry to my grave
Knowing that for someone you're an angel sent to save


He touched the tip of his index finger to each of the freckles that dotted her arm. He drew patterns, connecting the delicate dots into hearts and butterflies and lopsided...
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January, 1865.

She made a face of disgust. It shouldn't have smelled, but it did. The " it" in question was a former Solider...Cavalry..or maybe a foot soldier? It was hard to tell WHAT rank he was in the early morning light.

She dragged the body to a safer location: a deeper room in the mansion, to look through its pockets. Just what...... the Late Henry Hampton of the 2nd Regiment Cavalry of Pennsylvania was doing all the way in Atlanta was anybody's guess, but by the looks of things, there had been some sort of fight.

The old Sullivan Plantation was burned down during Sherman's March last year,...
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posted by tigerseye43
Tell me what you guys think!

The sirens wailed in the distance. Whitney knew they would be here soon and she'd have to run. She took a long drag on her cigaratte and then stomped it out. She grabbed her cars keys and yelled down the hall.
"Jake, we gotta go!" She yelled. Jake appeared at the end of the hall. His blue eyes looking at her with a smirk on his perfect lips. His dirty blonde hair spiked up in a sexy way. He wore white supras with dark jeans and a red, black, and grey plaid shirt.
" 'K babe." Jake said. He walked down the hall to her and hugged her close. She wore a grey tank top...
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posted by sparkles3
this is a fan fiction of the novel, Darker Still, by Leanna Renee Hieber.
___________________________________________
Disclaimer: Ms. Hieber own the rights to the book Darker Still.
___________________________________________
Summary: In New York, 1880, Natalie Stewart fell in love with Lord Denbury, known as Johnathon Whitby to family and close friends, who was trapped in a painting; and under a curse. With the help of family friend, Evelyn Northe, she is able to free him, and they leave the state.

But history repeats itself.

Now, in present day New York, 13 year old Katia Whitby (Natalie's Greatx6 granddaughter)has become entranced by a painting which seems oddly alive. Katia is also mute, like Natalie was. She seems to some of the same abilities that her great-great-great-great-great-great grandmother did. Because her father works for the local museum of art, she's able to see the incredible painting with which she's obsessed more often. But is that really best?
posted by alicia386
If you want more awesome writing go to True Writers.

Chapter One

      The constant roaring of the thunder and the sparks shooting from the lightening you would have thought we had planned for this. Nothing is planned for in Somnium. No one expects these tragic events to occur. Even if we did plan for it, it still wouldn't change the mood. It would not make me feel any better. It wouldn't change the fact that my brother was now lying in a cold coffin dead.
      The weather was the least of my concerns at the moment. This funus, or celebration for the dead, was at my top priority list. Although...
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What This Handout is About…
This handout will explain what a Literature Review is and offer insights into the form and
construction of a Literature Review in the Humanities, Social Sciences, and Sciences.
Introduction
OK. You’ve got to write a literature review. You dust off your world literature
anthology book, settle down in your Ebert and Roper at the Movies theatre chair with
your popcorn and soda in hand, and get ready to issue a “thumbs up” or “thumbs down”
as you leaf through the pages. “Literature Review” done. Right?
Wrong! The “literature” of a literature review...
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posted by Rae-Ash
I can see it now
Just how it will be
And don’t even ask how
Or what will be the key

I think of all that is lost
And can’t even bare the cost
To know they suffer
But no one will offer
A way out
Or a new place
Or even a new rout
But to stick your sorrows in a case

I leave her tonight
And don’t give thought to all in sight
Not wanting that pain
As in the ground she is lain

Before I let a single tear go
I turn away
As I sob an ‘Oh’
And say I’m okay
I can’t believe she’s gone
Leaving behind her sweat John
Without saying a single good-bye

In heartache we sigh
Not wanting to cry there
But her spirit surrounds us

We see her everywhere
Form every home to every bus
But we can’t bear to say good-bye
As to us everyone will lie

We fall to the ground in pain
As dirt goes in, where she was lain
And our souls say their last good-bye
posted by Dhampires
Blood spattered everywhere. From the ground trickles of blood managed to reach my cheek.


I stood horrified tears swelled my eyes, my vision going unfocus the pain hit hard causing me to catch my breath. Tears rolled down my cheeks, the scene I'd witnessed far beyond my believe.


Yet I saw it all eye to eye.


She'd fallen at my feet soaked in her own blood. The images played over in my head-a deep cut to her side, another to her throat, the final one was a stab just below the heart. I looked away my whole body shaking in fear, outrage and confusion.


I'd miss taken her for dead until I turned...
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posted by saracomet
Once there was a girl her name was Blair. Blair had no friends so she went online. Then she found Fanpop. On the first month a mean girl was online and comment on Blair's wall. First, the girl wrote on her comment. Then, she called Blair names. Blair tried so hard to just forget about it, but she couldn't so Blair reported her. It got to a point that Blair couldn't go on fanpop she was scared that the girl would get back on. So Blair told the mean girl that she should back off, and if she post another ugly comment she would report her that second. Then, Blair's cousin got on Fanpop, and told...
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posted by hgfan5602
It is sad how we must leave each other,
But it is something we must do in life,
So accept the fact that we do,
And leave now.

We go our separate ways in life,
Towards our careers that we prefer.
Although we must leave each other
We still have each other's memories
Tucked safely in our heart.

We leave
But we make new friends
The leaving might break our hearts
We understand that it is something
We must do.

It is something we do
To grow in life
To build character.
We go our separate ways in life
Though sad,
However helpful.
“Who is he?” asked Bloom. I shook my head. “I don’t know…” I said, “That’s why I screamed. Abby walked over to the boy and felt for a pulse. She nodded her head and looked back at me. “He’s alive,” she said, “Just unconscious.” I nodded. “What do you propose we do with him?” Abby asked me. I looked at her then over at Bloom. Bloom was looking hopefully at the boy, silently wishing he would be okay. “Take him up to one of the guest bedrooms.” I said without thinking. Abby nodded and grabbed the boy, caressing him in her arms. “As you wish, Milady.” She walked...
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When I first met him, I could not comprehend anything… why he was here, where he was from, what had happened to his eye… my name is Nora Fushigi, I am sixteen years old and I live with my little sister, Bloom, in a mansion in England. The year is 1940. World War II was going on then, so I called for Bloom to come live with me out in the country because I was worried about her in the big, huge city of London. When she got here, she was overly happy to see me. “Sissy,” she said, “I’m glad to see you again!” Bloom is only six years old, and she still needs to learn some proper manners,...
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posted by hgfan5602
How I long to be back in my sweet haven,
Covered in blankets,
Replenished with water and the works,
Right now.

But.
I am not always so lucky to have one
For I am not your regular kid
Who always is lucky to have everything

For...
I am not a kid
I am not a person with a home
I am...
An infamous vagabond
Known for many cases of murder
And everything that I consider to be
My hobby.

I love being a bad vagabond.
Being bad's how I live.
So live with it.
Or get killed.
This.
Very.
Instant.
posted by Faith-Rulz
Fire.
It is destruction.
But yet,
it shines beauty, and;
it is the gift of rebirth,
new beginnings,
the strength that boils within your soul,
bumbling deep inside
beneath the surface
waiting for you to
spread your wings like a phoenix,
showering you with the fire
waiting to burst to the surface and shine.

Fire,
its energy,
raw and primal energy
one so old,
the flames cry a thousand tears,
of souls lost within its flames,
their souls,
live within the fire's kiss
eternally,
becoming one with the fire,
and be reborn,
forever and eternal
as a phoenix...
the soul immortal
as is the fire,
wild, passionate, primodial
can it be tamed?
No. can love be tamed? No
Love is like the fires....untamed, unstoppable...
it consumes,
like a fire's kiss.
Do you dare to play a fire's game??
posted by NormalcyIsDead
A little girl walked around the open playground, her solid brown eyes looking at the ground, sun shining on her straight auburn hair. It was her first day of Second Grade at a new school, and she didn’t know anyone there. She much rather liked walking around and looking at all the little bugs and twigs and other stuff she could find, though, instead of playing Tag, or swinging, or making necklaces out of dandelions.

As she stooped down beside the tire house to poke at a little colony of ants, she heard a humming noise. She looked up and saw a little boy about her age, sitting on the top...
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posted by anbonie
He respected bang, but it happened nothing. Anyway they hurried, because clock wasn’t usually wrong. Butler crashed bars.
When they came out of shaft, in cold room was bang. Bodyguard grabbed Pieter and with him ran across the garden and jumped in pond. He knew that pool is connected with house and it is going to be too dangerous to jump in it.
In the pond there were no many chances to survive. And it was late autumn and it was ice on surface.
But they haven’t got any other chance. Butler and Pieter waited for explosion and when they were face to face with fire they sink. Slave was all time...
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posted by TheFictionists
Evlynn
Evlynn
Honestly, I never thought I would become a vampire.

Well, I was expecting it..sort of. My parents are distant and weird and awkward. They don't talk much. Well, I don't talk much. In general. Well, ever. I mean, a seventeen-year-old eleventh grader..with bright yellow eyes and blue-black hair..who would want to talk to me. Honsetly, if anyone did, I'd run away. Literally.

Back to my point. So basically waking up to your parents saying, 'Good morning sweetheart, you're grandparents were vampires, and you are too' isn't exactly a good morning. I'm not like a old 'I Vant to Svuck Your Bluhd' vampire....
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posted by Shadowvixen49
He sits, staring blankly at the tray table seven inches from his face. He leans his head ever so slightly to the right, then ever so slightly to the left, watching the black line jump the sides of his nose. He has watched it every day of his life, always taking it for granted, never questioning its presence. But it is here, on his hands, his pants, his shirt, his nose. It is everywhere, a defining edge, showing the ending of one yet the beginning of another. It changes from points of view, disappearing in your vision while still existing in your friend’s. It is there but cannot be touched,...
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