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#1 admin_ann

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Posted 28 March 2013 - 01:48 PM

Hello Everyone,

It's time for a new contest! The theme is Spring Fling. The possibilities are endless! Write a story of about 1,000 words (slightly less or more is ok) and post it to this thread. In a few weeks, we'll vote and the winner will receive a signed Meg Cabot book.

Happy writing!

UPDATE: Voting has begun here.
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#2 Jesselover!

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Posted 29 March 2013 - 01:33 PM

Hello Everyone,

It's time for a new contest! The theme is Spring Fling. The possibilities are endless! Write a story of about 1,000 words (slightly less or more is ok) and post it to this thread. In a few weeks, we'll vote and the winner will receive a signed Meg Cabot book.

Happy writing!



with whats a spring fling? isnt that like a prom thingy?
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#3 admin_ann

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Posted 30 March 2013 - 10:50 AM

with whats a spring fling? isnt that like a prom thingy?


Could be a prom thingy. It's a spring romance. Often short-lived, but intense.
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#4 PrincessM*PrinceM

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Posted 30 March 2013 - 09:23 PM

Could be a prom thingy. It's a spring romance. Often short-lived, but intense.


At my school Spring Fling is a dress up week. So I kind of wrote about that in a unique way. Is that okay?
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#5 IreneAdler

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Posted 01 April 2013 - 01:21 PM

Hello Everyone,

It's time for a new contest! The theme is Spring Fling. The possibilities are endless! Write a story of about 1,000 words (slightly less or more is ok) and post it to this thread. In a few weeks, we'll vote and the winner will receive a signed Meg Cabot book.

Happy writing!



Getting a story entry started as we speak! When is the closing date for the contest?

Edited by IreneAdler, 01 April 2013 - 01:21 PM.

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#6 Lear

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Posted 04 April 2013 - 09:41 PM

Our Forever Fling

Nothing would be the same. I knew this, though I tried with all my heart not to believe it. As I walked through the halls of my empty school, I knew that everything we had would be over soon.

Jason Mast was the most perfect person I’d ever met. He had dark brown hair, and those puppy-love brown eyes. But as with most love stories, it wasn’t a forever fling. We’d fallen in love on New Year’s Eve, and had been mostly inseparable all spring. Now that May was upon us, and graduation looming in the near future, heartbreak was calling my name. He hadn’t spoken a word about either of our departures, but I knew in those silent moments when his eyes were far away that he just didn’t know what to say.

Dinner on Saturdays, were my favorite time of the week. Jason would pick me up and we’d head to wherever we felt like eating. This week, the week before final exams, I knew the line “We need to talk” was coming into Jason’s vocabulary. Just thinking those words made my heart scream in agony. As usual he knocked on the door, was greeted by my parents, and then we left to eat at our favorite café. Jason seemed jittery, nervous. I, too, was nervous about the coming night, so I didn’t ask about why he kept patting his foot.

After we ate, Jason suggested we take a walk. This was normal; he liked to settle his stomach after dinner by walking. But, the way he suggested it caused my brain to think that the end was near. We paid for the bill, and walked out onto the street.

“Ugh ok just say it! I can’t be on edge all night. Just do it quickly so it doesn’t hurt as bad.” I blurted this all out before I could even think about what was leaving my lips. Jason looked at me in the usual way he does, and then just walked away.

“Jason! What are you doing?”

“I can’t do this. . .” He said in a trembling voice that I could barely understand. His back was still turned to me, so he couldn’t see the tears that had erupted from my eyes. Speaking was impossible, for the sobs in my throat were choking me.

“Get in the truck, I’ll take you home. We can talk tomorrow.” But there was no call or text the next day. There was nothing, but silence coming from my phone. The door was never knocked and the doorbell never rung. I never even left my room.

A sudden knock on my bedroom door made me glance up from my tear-stained pillow. It was probably just my mom checking on me.

Unsticking myself from my bed, I got up to open the door. Opening the door it revealed Jason. Folding my arms across my pajama shirt, and wiping the tears from my eyes, I stood in the way of the door.

“Yes?” My stupid voice had to tremble, when I wanted to seem so strong. He stood there, his eyes still that puppy-love brown, and his dark brown hair still sticking up in the back. How could he stand there? How could he look so normal, when my world was falling apart?

“I’m not here to fight, and I’m not here to break your heart. I couldn’t do that to you ever. But you need to know that I love you and I think I’ve made the right decision.”

“No matter what you say you’re gonna break my heart. There’s no way to stop it,” I cried, “What decision? The decision to leave me?”

“I already told you! I can’t do that!” He pushed past me into the room. I turned around to glare at him.

“Then what are you going to do?” I shouted in anger.

All of a sudden, Jason pulled me into a passionate kiss. All my anger, confusion, and frustration channeled into the kiss. He pulled back, and got on a knee. Flabbergasted, I squealed. “No way. No freaking way!!” I thought to myself.

“I can’t leave you, I couldn’t if I tried. I love you more than the air I breathe. I need you more than the air I breathe! I know these past few weeks have been confusing, and I’m sorry I’ve been distant. I’ve spent so many hours planning just the right words, trying to figure out just the right way to do this. But the only words I can say that would sound right are I love you. Will you, Alba Marie Triton, give me the magnificent pleasure of being my wife?” The ring in the box was glittering brightly, shinning in just the way a girl would want it to. The amazing man on his knee was shaking from nervousness, and I let out a small chuckle. Nodding with the old angry tears and the new tears of joy both running down my cheek, I accepted to giving my whole life to this man of whom I love.

As the perfect gentlemen Jason is, he’d already asked my father’s permission. My mother was overjoyed and my sister seemed quite pleased, and a little impressed. Everyone was happy, except for me. As for me, I was ecstatic. And even that word can’t describe my feelings.
So I guess our spring fling wasn’t short-lived. Our spring fling blossomed into something more than anyone could want. Our spring fling blossomed into a forever fling.
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#7 Lear

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Posted 05 April 2013 - 06:44 AM

I hope this story met the requirements. hope you liked it as well! :a_smil08:
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#8 BonkersBookworm78

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Posted 05 April 2013 - 09:23 AM

Solitary Daisy

The Wood`s – the most magical, haunting place in the world, the only place I felt I truly belonged. Surrounded by beauty, yet I was not a beauty myself. Every day I would walk, a solitary daisy I was called, my name being Daisy. I was not really alone; I had the wind, the rain, the sun and the creatures. I felt as if the creatures understood me better than any human could ever. To them I was an ageless insignificant creature, they did not judge me and that was why I loved them. I would read, write, sing and dream, wish that life would always be this simple.

One day it all changed, whether it was a good change or not was debatable. I ran happily to my usually place among the trees, I sat on a stump of wood. I began to write, write about my surrounding’s, about one solitary Daisy in the middle of many crocuses and trees. I breathed in the fresh air; it tasted of freedom, peace and joy. I sat there in silence taking it all in, while I still could. Then I heard a sound, a snap of a twig. I turned. All I could see was a shadow, running away, from me. I left for home, wondering whether I was delusional. No one but me ever went that deep into the wood`s – until now.

The next day it was late afternoon, when I finally returned to the Wood`s. I was almost at my usually place, almost reached freedom. Then I heard a sound. It was beautiful, it sounded like sadness and fear, like it belonged in the wood`s. This ballad sounded like it was the wood`s, the other side of the woods, the darker side, something I was unaware existed until now. The music had a power over me, it pulled me forward and I was in its grasp, it consumed and controlled me. This excited me just as much as it frightened me.

Then I turned and that was the first time I saw him. Just like his music, he belonged there in a way I never could. He like me was lost in the music and just like that we began to dance as he sang, both of us equally absorbed in the music. Then despite everything, I began to sing, I actually felt like I belonged. I didn't think at all and something told me he wasn't thinking either. He kissed me and my head spun. We pulled away simultaneously and ran in opposite directions. Neither of us understood what had happened.

Despite all that had happened the next day I returned to the woods. I felt a surge of disappointment when I realized I was alone, why I had not questioned but that moment onward being alone had lost its appeal. I wrote, I sang, I attempted to read, but all my attempts of distraction were in vain. My memories haunted me, his hazel eyes, so wild, was always the last, most powerful image.

Days went by as usual and I began to think that afternoon was fragment of my imagination, a dream. The boy a fictional character, made by yours truly. It had been seven nights since that day, when he appeared again. I was singing a song I had written, about him. My ginger curls blew in the wind, out of their usual unruly mane. I was oblivious to his presence. Then we both turned.

“You’re real?!” We exclaimed simultaneously. I began to giggle for no reason in particular, he smiled. The world began to light up; for once I was unconditionally happy.

“Why do you come here?” He inquired brushing a strand of hair out of my eyes. Somehow he was suddenly sat beside to me.

“To escape from real life,” I stated simply as if I had known all along. He put his arm around me and we lay there for hours in utter silence.

“See you tomorrow.” He whispered into my ear as he left. He departed just as suddenly as he entered.

For weeks that was how it was. We always spoke so few words and mainly communicated using music. We lay together, dreaming, singing, lost in the music – there was no need for words. I knew so little yet so much about him, I knew his feelings, his thoughts but I didn't know facts. It seemed insignificant that I didn't even know his name, I knew his heart and that in itself was the best gift anyone could have given me.

One day we were lying there and he threw a daisy into my lap.

“One solitary daisy," He whispered in a way to poetic for words. He gazed into my dark, green eyes for a moment and then for the second time he kissed me. It was so gentle and short, but long enough to have a sort of meaning. He smelt of the woods.

He then took my hand and ran. We ran all around the woods my dark green dress flowing behind me. We were free, he kissed me again and we held on to each other for what seemed to be hours.

“You are so beautiful.” He whispered and with that he left.

The next day he was nowhere to be found. Then I found the message, carved into a tree it was, it read …..

Dearest Daisy,
I have to leave, they found me. I will go with them unwillingly. Maybe one day you will understand why, as you have understood me. I will love you, always.
G


I will never know who they are and to this day I still do not understand as his name remained unknown. But his memory is a gift still in my possession and not a day goes by where I don’t ponder why it occurred this way.

If you go down to the woods, in a village - in a town - in a country. If you are brave or stupid and wonder far enough into the woods, you will see a girl sitting on a tree stump, all alone. She has ginger curls in a mane down her back and the voice of an angel. She will not see you. She has and will always remain to be a solitary daisy.
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#9 BonkersBookworm78

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Posted 05 April 2013 - 11:47 AM

I hope my story is not to bad and off topic.
Lear your story is really good.
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#10 PrincessM*PrinceM

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Posted 08 April 2013 - 10:32 PM

Spring Fling, Or Spring Flung?


"Spring Fling is today! I hope all of you showed your school spirit!" Jenna's preppy voice announced on the loud speakers. "Today is the beach theme! Tomorrow will be famous person day!"
I was assuming she went on to lunch, but I couldn't tell since everyone started talking over her.
"Veronica, where's your school spirit?" Cherrie, one of Jenna's followers, asked me.
I looked down at my all black attire. I thought I was doing a fine job with my school spirit, but apparently not.
"Oh my gosh." I gasped, "I thought I was wearing my black bikini with my black Gucci bag."
Cherrie's lip started to curl into a sneer. "Freak."
She turned her back to me, her blonde hair almost hitting my face. If it had hit my face there wouldn't be any more of that pretty blonde hair.
"Just ignore her." Phoebe whispered.
Phoebe was probably one of my only friends. Besides for Harry, but Harry was more like a casual friend, though.
"I'll try to." I growled.
Phoebe smirked as she focused on the teacher.
What really sucked at our school was that school spirit was taken seriously. If you didn't dress up then you were an outcast. That's why everyone participated.
Even if I had dressed up I would still be seen as an outcast with my black wardrobe. People have always questioned why I wear black outfits. They wonder if I'm going through depression or if I'm emo. But I am neither. I just love the color black, and I like using black eye shadow; it makes my blue eyes pop out.
No one accepts my answer, though. Thus the label of freak.
Frankly, I don't care.

BREAK

"Spring Fling sucks." Phoebe groaned.
"My life sucks." I muttered.
"No it doesn't." Phoebe said as she tossed her arm around my shoulder, "You have me. Life is so much better with me."
No. Life would be so much better with him. I did have to smile at Phoebe's sweetness.
"Don't be losers. Dress up for Spring Fling!" Jenna singed as she past by us.
"She did not just look at us." Phoebe said. "Just because we're not a lifeless ASB member does not mean anything. Least we have a brain."
"Hey, have you heard who Jenna is going to ask to the Spring Fling dance?" Someone asked behind us.
"No, who?" Her friend responded.
"Harry."
"Cute Harry?"
"Yep. I heard-"
But I didn't stick around to hear the rest because "Cute" Harry was Casual Friend Harry. Casual Friend Harry was the person I wanted for my Spring Fling. Everyone else got one. I've heard people from the past two years talk about their spring break fling. Why can't I have one?
Besides if I had stayed I probably would have ripped out Jenna's perfectly curled blonde hair.
"Hey, Veronica, wait up!" I heard Phoebe call after me.
Ha. Like that was gonna happen.

LUNCH

"Hey, Veronica." A deep voice said behind me.
I turned around to see Puck Barely standing there. I groaned at the sight of him. Puck was always trying to flirt with me.
"Looking good today,” he said as his eyes slowly looked over my body.
"You're sick, you know that right?" I sneered.
At that moment Cherrie decided to walk up. "What are you doing talking to my boyfriend, freak?"
Then she grabbed his arm and dragged him off to their table.
What is up with everyone today?
"Show your Spring Fling!" Jenna shouted.
She was at a table to the side of the cafeteria. It had Spring Fling written all over it and decorated with each one of the days.
If you haven't noticed already, Spring Fling is probably the biggest celebrated spirit week ever. It's probably because at the end of it, we have a dance. Yes, a dance.
Anyways, I was about to sit down an have a jolly good time with my chicken nuggets when Harry came in.
Now everyone likes Harry. Who wouldn't? He's nice, friendly, and good-looking. But the nice thing about Harry is that he's not popular. It's just that everyone knows him. He doesn't do any sports. He's just book-smart.
Which blows my mind on why Jenna is after the smart guy. Not that there is anything the matter with smart guys, it's just... she dates the popular guys.
So once she locked onto Harry coming in and pranced over to him, I couldn't help but want to punch a wall.
"Hey, Harry." Jenna said all girly. "Wanna come hang with me by the Spring Fling table?"
"Um, sure." He said with a shrug.
"He's just doing that to be nice." I hissed under my breath. "Also he's not dressed for Spring Fling."
"Hey, Veronica." Harry said as he passed.
"Oh, hey, Harry. Didn't see you there." I said casually.
He gave me a confused look. "You were staring straight at me."
"I was, wasn't I." I mock laughed.
"Freak." Jenna mouthed as she passed. Then in a louder voice said, "Come on guys! Let's show our Spring Fling unlike some people."
"Oh, hell no." Phoebe said. "You better get out of here, girl. My school spirit is in my heart, 'Kay?"
I couldn't help but laugh as Jenna gasped, then stomped off to Harry.
"Just ignore them. Two more years. That's all we need." Phoebe said sympathetically.
I just watched as Jenna flipped her hair back and forth, flirting with Harry. Harry was just there calmly talking to her. I could feel my anger start to rise. She just needed to do one more thing to set me over the top.
Then she did it. She touched his arm and whispered something in his ear. Harry took a step back from her and shook his head.
I found myself getting up, and started to walk towards them.
"What do you want?" Cherrie sneered.
She was on Puck's lap.
"Oh, just checking out the days." I said nonchalantly.
"Since when did you care?" Cherrie questioned.
"Um..." I bit my bottom lip.
Jenna snorted. "You've never cared before. You don't care about anything. You're like Mrs. Emo. I'm pretty sure you probably have a little corner for yourself."
Everything seemed to freeze. Everyone was probably listening at that moment.
This might sound crazy, but I started to laugh. It was a weird laugh, too; to me it sounded like I had completely lost it. Maybe I had.
"I don't care? I don't care." I laughed.
Then I looked at all of them: Jenna, Cherrie, the popular kids.
That's when it hit me. No one at this school cared about school spirit. They're just scared of Jenna and her followers hating them. So they dress up unlike the outcasts.
"Yeah. That's what I said." Jenna growled as she crossed her arms.
That's when I did something I thought I'd never do. I let all my feelings out.
"NO ONE FREAKIN' CARES ABOUT SPRING FLING, JENNA!" I yelled. "NO ONE!"
Then I flipped the table. Their shocked faces were priceless. I turned to leave, when I noticed Harry. His mouth was hanging open.
This was embarrassing.
I could feel my feet moving before I even knew what I was doing.
As I was leaving I couldn't help but notice a applause started to break out.

OFFICE

"What do you think you were doing?" Principal Costa asked angrily.
"I wasn't thinking." I said.
Honestly, I wasn't when I did it. I'm surprised I had the strength to even flip it.
I don't think she liked that response because she started in on a lecture. I didn't get out of the office until twenty minutes later with a week's worth of detention.
"Great." I muttered at the note to my parents.
"Yeah, you flipping that table was not only great, but amazing." Harry said from behind me.
I jumped from where I was sitting outside on the front steps. I watched as Harry came sat down next to me.
"I was pretty amazed myself." I said.
"I could tell by your bright red face. It looked kind of like a Christmas light." he chuckled.
"Oh, that's a lovely image." I said sarcastically.
"Yeah." Harry laughed. "Least you didn't get suspended."
"Yeah, I know. I think my parents would have killed me."
"So do you think you're going to get grounded for this?" he asked as his knee brushed against mine.
"Hopefully not." I bit my lip.
I didn't think I'd get grounded. I didn't want to be grounded, even though I have no social life.
"Oh, I was just wondering if, you didn't get grounded, you'd go to the Spring Fling dance with me?"
Now it was time for him to turn bright red. And it was totally cute.
"I'd have to check my schedule." I joked.
"What?" He looked shocked.
"Yep. My schedule. I'm quite busy."
"Oh, really?"
I looked over at him to tell him "yes," but I didn't have time to because my mouth suddenly became busy.
Let me just tell you, Harry is an amazing kisser.
"How about now?" Harry whispered, his forehead was on mine.
"I think I'm less busy now." I whispered back.
He smiled as he leaned in to kiss me some more.
Let's just say this was an amazing way to finish a horrible day.
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#11 PrincessM*PrinceM

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Posted 08 April 2013 - 10:34 PM

^^^ Hopefully this came out good and met the topic requirements. I also hope you guys enjoy it! This is my first time posting a story on here :/ :D
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#12 Lear

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Posted 09 April 2013 - 06:44 AM

^^^ Hopefully this came out good and met the topic requirements. I also hope you guys enjoy it! This is my first time posting a story on here :/ :D

I honestly let out a huge "AWWWWWWWWWWWW" at the end! It's awesome! (PSSTTT check out mine too :))
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#13 BonkersBookworm78

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Posted 09 April 2013 - 11:26 AM

^^^ Hopefully this came out good and met the topic requirements. I also hope you guys enjoy it! This is my first time posting a story on here :/ :D

Your story is so good, love the ending.
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#14 PrincessM*PrinceM

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Posted 10 April 2013 - 01:07 PM

I honestly let out a huge "AWWWWWWWWWWWW" at the end! It's awesome! (PSSTTT check out mine too :))


Thank you! I'm so glad someone liked it haha
I enjoyed your story, too. It almost made me cry when I thought the guy was gonna break up with her!
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#15 PrincessM*PrinceM

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Posted 10 April 2013 - 01:12 PM

Your story is so good, love the ending.


Thank you! I'm glad you liked it
I liked your story, too. I like how you described the guy and I like all your imagery in the story. It made me feel like I was in the woods.
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#16 IreneAdler

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Posted 11 April 2013 - 03:45 PM

The Tracker Suit

That night, Trisha would discover that her perfect spring fling dress held a dark secret. Soon after, people would blame Trisha, as they often blamed the girl in these situations: Why hadn’t she checked the tags, or noticed the pattern in her love life? It was easy for them to say, their parents weren’t going through a divorce.

It all started when Trisha finally convinced her dad to get her a new spring wardrobe. Normally this was her mom Marion’s area of expertise, but in an effort to show he was a cool dad, Tom had swallowed his pride and braved the battlefield: the mall. Soon Trisha had enough flowery outfits to make it through until next spring, and a new bra size. At the end of the day, there was only one item left that Trisha still needed: a spring fling dress.

It couldn’t be just any dress. Trisha envisioned a green strapless one that caught the light, bottom hem cut wavy and at a slant, made in the U.S. (nothing cramped your style quite like realizing your perfect dress was made by sweat shop kids in Honduras). A true shopping miracle, she found the dress, on sale, and the perfect size.

The lucky streak continued at school. Boys who had never talked to her before were stopping her in the hallway, girls were jealous. Trisha accepted three dates, thrilled that Thomas, the soccer player, Lucas the foreign exchange student, and Bruce, the oboist, had all noticed her.

Then things got weird. Just as the date with Thomas was getting interesting, Trisha’s dad pulled up in his car, honked the horn, and yelled, “Hi, sweetie!” Mortified, Trisha said goodbye, and got in the car. This should have been Trisha’s first clue, but at the time, she was relieved: even with his excellent kissing skills Thomas didn’t have much in common.

Lucas, from Chile, was better. They played mini-golf and talked about The Simpsons, he had seemed like a great guy; great enough that Trisha snuck behind the hedge separating the 7th and 8th holes for a make-out session. Lucas hand was on Trisha’s red blouse when she heard:
“Hi sweetie!” Her father was playing the 8th hole with friends. Lucas jumped back so quickly, Trisha’s blouse could have been on fire. Slowly, the two of them emerged from the bush.

“Mr. Collins!” Lucas tried to cover the awkward moment. Trisha groaned, wishing the hedge would come to life and swallow her.

“Why don’t you kids join us?”

What else could they do? They joined the grownups and spent the next hour floating on a sea of awkward. Lucas never called Trisha again.

After two dates in a row ruined by her dad, the rumors started:

“Did you hear what happened with her and Lucas?”

“Two dates in two weeks? Must be the boobs.”

It was torture just to get to her next class. Trisha started treating the hallway the same way you treat the streets of NYC: Look down and keep walking. It was then that Trisha ran into someone wearing an Oboe Hero shirt.

“Sorry,” Trisha said to the ground.

“Trisha, you ok?”

It was Bruce, the first chair oboist, and Trisha’s secret crush since middle school.

“You heard what they said?” Trisha choked.

Bruce whispered, “Don’t listen to them. You’re coming to band practice, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Good, I’ve got something I wanna ask you.”

He asked her to the Spring Fling. This, and the support of her girlfriends, buoyed her through the weeks that followed. Her girlfriends formed a protective barrier around her in the hallways and at lunch, and Bruce called every night to discuss music. It finally seemed like things might be ok, but Trisha was still nervous. She took no chances, double-checking that her dad was not on the parent chaperone list. Trisha also called to try and get her mother’s advice, but Marion was so busy she didn’t have time to respond.

The Spring Fling couldn’t have started out any better. Bruce told her she looked beautiful in the dress, they took pictures, and danced together.

“Want to go outside?” Trisha asked when the floor was so hot they could have been dancing on the sun. Bruce followed her out, and they immediately started kissing just outside the doors. Bruce came up for air and whispered, “Cool if I just…?” his hand was going for her chest, and it was totally fine. But then Bruce looked confused. From the depths of Trisha’s perfect dress, he pulled a black wire, labeled TRACKER SUIT.

“What’s a Tracker Suit?” If Bruce was surprised, Trisha was shocked.

The Internet revealed Tracker Suits were a new brand of clothing for girls that contained hidden tracking devices, allowing the wearer to be monitored and found at any time. They were popular with the CIA and fathers of teenage daughters.

“I had a great time Bruce. I just need to go home now,” and kill my father, she added in her head.

But she didn’t have to. When Trisha returned home she could hear her parents yelling. Trisha climbed the stairs where she was out of sight, but heard every word.

“Because it’s creepy Tom, possibly illegal!” Mom was home.

“He said it was an option.”

“Who said you could wire tap my daughter?!”

“Our daughter!” Tom replied furiously. “Pastor Thornton said dads in the congregation were asking him about daughters dating; this was something we could try.”

Silence trickled up the staircase; Marion was not convinced.


“You haven’t been here this month. Three different guys are dating Trisha! Those guys want one thing Marion! I know, I used to be them.”

“Oh, when we were teens it was fine, but Trisha—“

“Don’t tell me the idea of our little girl dating doesn’t scare you!”

“Of course it does Tom, but this is the wrong response. Instead of spying on her, we need to talk to her, give her the information she needs to take care of herself.”

The next day, after talking about dating as a family, Marion and Trisha burned the Tracker Suits.

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#17 BonkersBookworm78

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Posted 11 April 2013 - 04:03 PM

Irene Adler your story is so good and really original. I love the style of your writing and the way the plot wasn't to obvious. Wow, all these stories are so much better than mine.
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#18 AmyElizabeth

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Posted 11 April 2013 - 10:48 PM

The Ghost in You
I could see nothing from the railroad. I picked up a rock from between the tracks and threw it towards the lake below me, watching it disappear into the night. It gave away no noise; nothing to make me feel like I wasn't alone. Spring was finally here, though it didn't feel like it. Just then, the sound of a branch breaking caught my attention. I debated getting up and heading back into town, but I had no idea where I would go. Before I could decide what to do, a single figure stepped through the trees, his silhouette the only thing separating him from the rest of the world. The look on his face told me he was just as surprised to see me.
“What are you doing out here?” He asked.
I shrugged, looking for an excuse. “I come out here to think,” I replied.
“You’re a good liar,” he said. “Now why are you really out here?”
Silence fell over us as I tried to figure out what was going on. When I finally found my voice, I choked on the word. “Inspection.”
A look of realization crossed his features. “I don’t blame you,” he responded.
“That’s not why you’re here, is it?” I asked.
He smirked and slid his hand into his back pocket, pulling out a cigarette. He held one out for me, but I shook my head, not wanting to cloud my mind any more than I already had. He struck a match, sending shadows across his strong features.
“I’m Jasper,” he said, extending his hand in my direction.
“Brooke,” I responded, returning the gesture. “You didn’t answer my question.”
Jasper nodded, taking a drag of his cigarette. Before he had a chance to answer, the sound of voices filtered in through the trees. Jasper was two steps ahead of me. Without a word, he wrapped his arms around me and pulled me to the ground. I barely noticed his weight on me, or that I was practically breathing dirt before I understood what was going on.
“Stay down,” Jasper breathed on my neck. “Don’t say anything.”
The inspection detail made their way through the woods along the tracks, their flashlights shone over the outline of their weapons. From what I could tell there were more than usual; at least ten, each of them searching for anyone who refused to follow the new order of government. After what felt like forever, their voices faded into the distance.
“Are you all right?” He asked.
I nodded, unsure of what to say. If I had been caught who knows what would have happened. I didn’t even want to think about it, how different everything was. Ever since the country had fallen under a harsh dictatorship, everything had changed. We certainly weren’t allowed in the woods at night.
“Come with me,” he said softly.
I reminded myself I could head in the other direction and return to the world that practically held me hostage. With that thought in mind, I took a breath and followed him into the night. Just from the way he moved I knew that this wasn’t the first time Jasper had taken this path. We walked in silence, with only our footsteps as comfort. I figured it wasn’t safe to say anything; we didn’t know if anyone was around. After what seemed like forever, the trees finally separated, revealing what could only be a cave.
It took a few seconds for my eyes to adjust to the dim lighting inside. Sensing something was wrong; Jasper found my hand and led me through the darkness. I started to say something but thought better of it. Finally, the endless tunnel broke and I stopped, not believing what I was taking in. I was standing in the entrance of a large room, and from what I could tell, we had the attention of at least twenty people.
Jasper leaned into me. “Welcome to the resistance,” he said.
Anything else I could have said disappeared from my mind as Jasper gestured for me to follow him. We crossed the room through the crowd of people, Jasper leading me towards another dark hallway. I didn’t even have a chance to question where we were going. Hoping it would help guide me through the tunnel, I ran my hand along the wall. A sharp rock sliced into my skin, and I gasped in pain.
“Are you all right?” Jasper asked, turning back towards me.
I shook my head as I clasped my hands together, trying to stop the bleeding. “Why’d you bring me here?” I asked.
Even through the darkness around us, I could see a smile playing on the corner of Jasper’s lips. I backed against the cave wall, trying to ignore the shudder that ran through me. Jasper took a step closer to me. I could feel his breath against my skin when he spoke.
“The same reason you decided to trust me,” he responded. “I knew you would understand.”
“What are you talking about?” I asked.
Jasper closed his deep brown eyes, looking as though he was debating what to say.
“The resistance started with just a few of us. It was more of a refuge than anything,” he started. “We never expected it would turn into this.”
“That’s not what I meant,” I started, unsure if I even wanted to know. “When you said… About me…”
“You’re just as lost as I am,” Jasper responded. “I couldn’t leave you out there alone.”
Without saying anything else, he closed the space in between us and wrapped his arms around me. I buried my face in his chest and breathed him in, not wanting to let go. Jasper brushed a strand of auburn hair away from my face, willing me to meet his eyes. My heart caught in my throat as he pressed his lips to mine. I knew for once I was safe, even if it was only for a little while.
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#19 Faerienutmeg

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Posted 12 April 2013 - 02:40 PM

Holiday Fun

“Hey. I didn’t know if you’d be able to make it.” I giggle, as his whispered words reach me, his strong arms encircling my waist.
“Me either, but Dad feel asleep in front of TV. All this ‘holiday fun’ is tiring him out.” I shake my head, the blonde curls bouncing gently. When Dad first suggest we all come on this supposed family holiday I wasn’t exactly thrilled. Things have been a bit rough between me and my parents reccently.
So when I leanred we’d be spending four weeks at a holiday park, sharing a room with my seven year old sister, I’d thrown a fit.
But now, I was happier than I’d ever been in my entire life.
“Good. But, just so you know, I would have waited for you all night.” Matts’ lips brush mine, and I feel the electric pass between us.
It’s been like this ever since we met, the first day of the holiday. There I was, all pale and annoyed, and sweaty from getting a cab straight from the airport, when I saw him.
Total movie scene moment. He was getting out of the pool, his tanned chest, long legs, and floppy blond hair all shiny. I may still have a sneaky photo of it on my phone, but who can blame me. He was the hottest boy I’ve ever seen in my life…
And now, I can’t believe I’ve gotten to spend four weeks of my life with him.
“Beth, what are you thinking about? You’ve gone all distant on me again.” I pull my mind back. I need to focus. My family are going home tomorrow and this is the last night me and Matt will spend together. I cant ruin it, lost in memories. I need to make more, with this amazing boy who I’ve fallen so strongly for, in such a small amount of time.
“You’re right. Come on, lets go.”
Sliding his hand along my arm, he tangles his long fingers inbetween mine, tugging me gently forward.
It was the first week, when we first discovered this little place, right along the path leading to the wooded area . Just a little door, a small place for us to spend some time together where nobody knows.
To be fair, it’s nothing wildly exciting. It’s a small closet, probably used to store cleaning supplies, except it’s been cleared out. Me and Matt fit in there perfectly. It’s like it was made just for us.
“Hey, look up.” I strech my neck, craning it a bit, to follow where Matt’s pointing.
“Wow.” There’s a small crack in the roof over our heads, and we can see a small line of stars. “This is amazing.”
We spend the rest of the evening there, me cuddled up inside his hoodie. It’s warm and sweet, and we share small kisses, and lingering ones, small talk and dreams.
When the light through the crack starts turning orange, I bury my head in his chest.
“I don’t want to say goodbye yet.”
“We don’t have to. Come on Beth, smile. We have an entire day together before you leave.” I nod, wiping my eyes on his t-shirt, before we link hands and he takes me back to my hotel room.
“I’ll see you later,” Matt whispers, kissing me on the cheeck. I watch him go, not ready for this night, this holiday to be over.
I don’t want my Spring Fling to end just yet.

Four hours later, there has been screaming, there has been tears, there has been things thrown and shattered.
And yet, I am about to touch down in my home town. My Father didn’t bother to tell me he’d changed the flights. There was some emergency with his work and we just had to get flights back this morning, instead of this evening, and he just didn’t remember to tell me.

I didn’t even get to say goodbye.

“Jeesh Beth, it’s been two weeks. Get over him already. Look I heard about this party…” Tabitha babbles on, but I tune her out. Instead I remember Matt’s hair and the way it used to flop in front of his eyes. How his eyes sparkled when he was talking about something he wanted to learn about, or how he’d brush the back of his neck when he was nervous.
I cant believe I didn’t ask him for his number. Or his contact details. He did tell me his last name, but I don’t remember it.
Maybe he was just a holiday romance…but that doesn’t stop me from trying to look him up on facebook. It’s two weeks later and so far no luck, but I live in hope.
In the end, I leave lunch early, leaving my friend Tabitha talking to someone else, trying to get them to go to the latest party she’s found out about.

Well that’s it. I’ve offically given up. I swear I’ve checked like all the Matts on facebook (and trust me, that’s a lot of Matts) and I cant find him.
I guess we were never meant to be. I’m pondering this as I walk home, not wanting to let go but not seeing how I can keep holding onto nothing.
“Beth. You do live around here then. I was starting to think I had the wrong place.” I freeze as the accent hits my ears.
“Beth, you alright?” I turn and there he is, just as I remember him. Matt, fresh from his holidays, a broad grin on his face, arms already reaching out for me.
“How did you…” I stammer, stumbling towards him.
“Well, you didn’t think I’d let you leave without saying goodbye did you?” That’s all it takes and then I’m running towards him, his arms are around me, and our lips are meeting.
And nothing has ever tasted so sweet.
“Well there will be plently of time for that later. First things first…whats your last name?” I tell him.
“And second things, second…I love you.”
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#20 BonkersBookworm78

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Posted 12 April 2013 - 03:49 PM

Faerienutmeg and AmyElizabeth your stories put mine to shame. ( I didn't spend enough time on it. )
Loved both of your stories.
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#21 Querida_Girl19

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Posted 12 April 2013 - 08:35 PM

Cold Touch


Allison N.


“Wake up.”

Your words echo in my ears like a dream of a distant memory.

“Wake up, Spring,” you repeat, and this time your words are clearer, but softer, like a lullaby. I begin to stir and stretch, and my bones crack from months of disuse. Before I open my eyes I already know that I am laying on the floor of a forest, deeply entangled in roots and twigs. When I sit up, the ropey tendrils of the Earth tear and snap, freeing me from the bed that I had laid in for the past eight months.

I keep my eyes shut a little while longer, feeling the rush of the cold air send a shiver up my spine. My hands flutter across the ground. I feel soft tufts of snow beneath my fingers, snow that you created, but I have to reach to touch it because the warmth of my body has melted a circle around me.

Then I open my eyes.

I am nearly blinded by the whiteness. Snow lingers on the branches of dead trees and blankets the ground in every crevice of the forest except underneath me. And then, I see you.

“Winter,” I gasp, and I fling myself into your arms. You catch me easily, securing me to your body with one hand behind my head and other around my waist. I know that my hair is brown and dirty, and there are flower buds weaved throughout it, but you don’t seem to care. Our hug only lasts seconds and ends too soon. We cannot touch each other for too long. You are too cold for me, and I’m too warm for you. It hurts us.

But that doesn’t stop you from taking my face in your hands and bringing your lips down to mine. I flinch at the touch; your lips are like ice. I can see you tense up as well. I am so warm that I could melt you.

“It’s been too long,” you say. When you breathe, a puff of white air clouds my face. Everything about you is white, from the cropped hair on your head to your porcelain skin to your silvery eyes.

“Way too long,” I agree. With some hesitation, I say, “How much time do we have?”

You smile sadly. “I’d say about a month. By then, you’ll have melted all of my snow, and I’ll have to leave.”

There is already a bubble of despair forming in my throat. Why did it have to be like this? Why did we have to be separated every year? Couldn’t Spring and Winter live together, love together, peacefully?

“Come with me,” you say, and we hold hands long enough for you to help me to my feet. Then I follow you through the forest. Wherever I step, the snow melts beneath my bare feet, exposing the brown dirt beneath it. Flower buds sprout up, too, matching the ones in my hair. Tulips, daisies, chrysanthemums.

You bring me to a lake. I shouldn’t be surprised. This is a tradition for us. The first date we have together after you wake me up, is to go to the lake. But I hate this tradition. I hate it because I have to take a part of you away.

The lake is frozen over with ice. You sprint out into the middle of it, raising your fists into the air, and I laugh from the shoreline. I laugh so loud that my voice carries throughout the land. I can feel the hibernating animals stir in their sleep as they hear the first call of Spring.
When you return, we sit at the edge of the shore, as close as we dare to be without touching, and then you say, “Do it.”

“I don’t want to,” I argue. The ice-covered lake sparkles, and the plants are frozen, undisturbed. I feel as though we are sitting in a moment of eternity.

“Please,” you whisper.

With a sigh I scoot closer to the shore. I let the tips of my toes kiss the edge of the frozen water, and suddenly, the moment of eternity is gone. There is a deafening crack, and a spider web fissure appears on the surface of the ice. The ice starts to melt, allowing the first trickle of water to gather at the shore, right beneath my toes.

You are laughing. “I love that.” Your eyes meet mine. “I love you.”

I can’t help but smile at that. “I love you too, Winter.”

***


Two weeks after you had woken me up, you are nothing but a silhouette, and I see you less frequently. I try to chase the snow in hopes that you’ll appear, but doing so makes the snow melt, and it is useless. Instead I must sit and wait for you. Waiting is excruciating.

One day, you appear beneath a tree whose lower limbs are still layered lightly in snow.

“Why can’t we be a normal boy and girl?” I ask you without any other introduction. “Why does it have to be like this?”

“Because we have the most beautiful job in the world,” you say. Your voice is soft, and I almost can’t hear you over the cool breeze. You spread your arms wide, as if exposing the nature around us. “And we have something that those normal boys and girls don’t have.”

“What is that?” My eyes are glistening as I look up at you. You move closer to me, although I know my warmth must be hurting you.

“We have forever. No matter what, I will see you every year for the rest of forever.” Your lips touch mine in a ghost of a kiss, and then the last trace of snow melts from the trees. Winter is gone. You are gone.

***



When the flowers in my hair have reached full bloom, I go to Summer. He lies in a field of daisies that I have planted, entangled in their stems. When I wake him up, he hugs me, but he is much too hot, and I can’t help but ache for the cold touch of Winter.

Edited by Querida_Girl19, 12 April 2013 - 08:36 PM.

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#22 nbgirl

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Posted 13 April 2013 - 04:49 AM

The Tracker Suit

Love this story, IreneAdler ! Great twist!



[/size]


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#23 IreneAdler

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Posted 13 April 2013 - 04:34 PM

Thank you so much!
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#24 BonkersBookworm78

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Posted 13 April 2013 - 04:49 PM

Querida_Girl19 I loved your story in the Valentines Writing Competition and I loved your story Cold Touch equally. Theres something about both these stories that make them stand out to me personally.
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#25 BonkersBookworm78

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Posted 13 April 2013 - 04:54 PM

Thank you! I'm glad you liked it
I liked your story, too. I like how you described the guy and I like all your imagery in the story. It made me feel like I was in the woods.


Thanks, I'm glad somebody actually liked my story.
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#26 Querida_Girl19

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Posted 13 April 2013 - 05:01 PM

Querida_Girl19 I loved your story in the Valentines Writing Competition and I loved your story Cold Touch equally. Theres something about both these stories that make them stand out to me personally.



Oh thank you so much! That really means a lot. When I first read the stories here I remembered Solitary Daisy because I couldn't stop thinking about who that mysterious boy was! I loved it :)
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#27 BonkersBookworm78

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Posted 13 April 2013 - 05:17 PM

Oh thank you so much! That really means a lot. When I first read the stories here I remembered Solitary Daisy because I couldn't stop thinking about who that mysterious boy was! I loved it :)


Thank you, I'm glad you liked it.

Edited by BonkersBookworm78, 13 April 2013 - 05:18 PM.

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#28 IreneAdler

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Posted 14 April 2013 - 12:22 AM

Glad you liked my story! I really liked the setting in yours, had sort of a legend feel to it. Don't worry about your story measuring up to others, we're all writers working on becoming better, so consider yourself a member of the club :)



quote name='BonkersBookworm78' timestamp='1365171828' post='2377590']
Solitary Daisy
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#29 IreneAdler

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Posted 14 April 2013 - 12:28 AM

Irene Adler your story is so good and really original. I love the style of your writing and the way the plot wasn't to obvious. Wow, all these stories are so much better than mine.


BonkersBookworm78,
Thanks so much, and please see post number 28.
IreneAdler
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#30 BonkersBookworm78

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Posted 14 April 2013 - 04:02 AM

BonkersBookworm78,
Thanks so much, and please see post number 28.
IreneAdler

Thanks it's just all these stories are so good.
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#31 Lear

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Posted 19 April 2013 - 10:04 PM

When does the voting start? I'm just curious because on the Valentine's Day writing I didn't realize the voting had begun until a week later! :mgwave:
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#32 genghas

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Posted 22 April 2013 - 11:58 AM

“Rachel!” my best friend Stacey screamed, panicked as she ran toward me through the hallway.
What could possibly be so important? I wondered as she caught up to me. Her face was red and wet with tears, I instantly soothed her, “What’s wrong?”
“Charles!” she cried, turning her head into my shoulder.
Charles? What could have happened to him? I instantly thought through all the good times we’d shared together over spring break, the strolls on the beach, the salty sea air as we had our first kiss, and the unbelievable pain when spring break was over and we were forced to go back to our normal lives by our disapproving parents, as if none of it had ever happened.
I struggled to keep my voice calm as the memories flooded through my head, “What happened?” my voice broke at the end, giving me away.
“Rach,” she said, pulling her face out from my shoulder and looking me in the eye, her own tears causing my own eyes to flood with them. Damn it, I really hated crying, “Rach, Charles killed himself this morning,”
I heard a strange strangled sound, I was surprised to find that it was coming out of my own mouth. I quickly closed my mouth and noticed everyone staring at us, Stacey, noticing this at the same time, pulled me into a nearby bathroom, where I promptly proceeded to fall apart, “How could he do this?” I wailed pointlessly to Stacey who had pulled herself together remarkably well, always keeping her head on straight in a bad situation.
Stacey sat beside me, ignoring the group of freshmen girls huddled in the corner staring at us. I leaned against her as she stroked my hair, “I found out from watching the news this morning. He couldn’t take his parents treating him as though he were worthless and so he tied up a rope in the garage, and when his mom came back from her hair appointment, she found him. She tried to save him, Rach, but it was too late. He was a donor, though, so he can help some people live.”
The thought of Charles being gone was too much for me to bear. I pictured his face, the sharp prominence of his cheekbones, his green eyes, the same shade as my own, and his soft, curly brown hair, always perfect. I remembered what it was like to be in his arms, his strong arms that fit perfectly around my body as he would lean his face down and gently place his lips on mine in the light of the silver moon as the wind off the beach tousled our hair. Charles couldn’t be dead, it was impossible, he was always so full of life! He would never do anything so permanent.
I was vaguely aware of the bell ringing, signaling that class was starting. Preoccupied with the situation at hand, I said to Stacey, my voice thick with crying, “Can we skip today, I don’t think that I can handle school right now.”
“Of course, hon. Let’s go,” she grabbed my hand and pulled me up.
We walked out of the school and headed toward her car since I was in no condition to drive. There was a seemingly never-ending void in front of me, filled with pain, inevitable and unavoidable. Charles was dead. My life was over.
We had just got into her car when I started, “He was always there for me. When my parents were being so judgmental about our relationship, he let me call him, anytime, day or night! And he always picked up,” my voice caught, “even at four a.m.
“I remember during one of those phone calls he said something to me, and I can’t stop thinking about it,” tears were now freely running down my face and I made no attempt to conceal them. Stacey wrapped her arm around my shoulder, “he said that no matter how dark it gets, there is always someone there who loves you and can pull you back into the light.
“He was that person to me, and I thought that I was still that person for him!
“Why? Why did he do this! He was always so happy and he had all these great friends! He had a good life aside from all his parents’ criticisms! He had so much going for him, and now it’s all gone, thrown away with his life!
“Stacey, I loved him!” my voice faded away and my tears took over, Stacey sat there, her arm still firmly around me as I continued to cry, unable to accept the facts I was given. Charles couldn’t be dead! He had such a good life! Why would he throw it all away? Was it my fault? Did I drive him to it when I had to break up with him?
After a while I ran out of tears, with my eyes dry Stacey let me go, I looked at her, “Stacey, it was my fault. I broke up with him, and if I hadn’t none of this would have happened, we would both be alive and together and well! Maybe—“
She cut me off, “Rachael Cooper, you did nothing wrong. Got it? It was unavoidable and he had some issues in his life that even you couldn’t take care of. There was nothing you could do to stop this, so don’t blame yourself.”
I sighed, “Stacey , what am I supposed to do now?”
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#33 genghas

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Posted 22 April 2013 - 11:58 AM

“Rachel!” my best friend Stacey screamed, panicked as she ran toward me through the hallway.
What could possibly be so important? I wondered as she caught up to me. Her face was red and wet with tears, I instantly soothed her, “What’s wrong?”
“Charles!” she cried, turning her head into my shoulder.
Charles? What could have happened to him? I instantly thought through all the good times we’d shared together over spring break, the strolls on the beach, the salty sea air as we had our first kiss, and the unbelievable pain when spring break was over and we were forced to go back to our normal lives by our disapproving parents, as if none of it had ever happened.
I struggled to keep my voice calm as the memories flooded through my head, “What happened?” my voice broke at the end, giving me away.
“Rach,” she said, pulling her face out from my shoulder and looking me in the eye, her own tears causing my own eyes to flood with them. Damn it, I really hated crying, “Rach, Charles killed himself this morning,”
I heard a strange strangled sound, I was surprised to find that it was coming out of my own mouth. I quickly closed my mouth and noticed everyone staring at us, Stacey, noticing this at the same time, pulled me into a nearby bathroom, where I promptly proceeded to fall apart, “How could he do this?” I wailed pointlessly to Stacey who had pulled herself together remarkably well, always keeping her head on straight in a bad situation.
Stacey sat beside me, ignoring the group of freshmen girls huddled in the corner staring at us. I leaned against her as she stroked my hair, “I found out from watching the news this morning. He couldn’t take his parents treating him as though he were worthless and so he tied up a rope in the garage, and when his mom came back from her hair appointment, she found him. She tried to save him, Rach, but it was too late. He was a donor, though, so he can help some people live.”
The thought of Charles being gone was too much for me to bear. I pictured his face, the sharp prominence of his cheekbones, his green eyes, the same shade as my own, and his soft, curly brown hair, always perfect. I remembered what it was like to be in his arms, his strong arms that fit perfectly around my body as he would lean his face down and gently place his lips on mine in the light of the silver moon as the wind off the beach tousled our hair. Charles couldn’t be dead, it was impossible, he was always so full of life! He would never do anything so permanent.
I was vaguely aware of the bell ringing, signaling that class was starting. Preoccupied with the situation at hand, I said to Stacey, my voice thick with crying, “Can we skip today, I don’t think that I can handle school right now.”
“Of course, hon. Let’s go,” she grabbed my hand and pulled me up.
We walked out of the school and headed toward her car since I was in no condition to drive. There was a seemingly never-ending void in front of me, filled with pain, inevitable and unavoidable. Charles was dead. My life was over.
We had just got into her car when I started, “He was always there for me. When my parents were being so judgmental about our relationship, he let me call him, anytime, day or night! And he always picked up,” my voice caught, “even at four a.m.
“I remember during one of those phone calls he said something to me, and I can’t stop thinking about it,” tears were now freely running down my face and I made no attempt to conceal them. Stacey wrapped her arm around my shoulder, “he said that no matter how dark it gets, there is always someone there who loves you and can pull you back into the light.
“He was that person to me, and I thought that I was still that person for him!
“Why? Why did he do this! He was always so happy and he had all these great friends! He had a good life aside from all his parents’ criticisms! He had so much going for him, and now it’s all gone, thrown away with his life!
“Stacey, I loved him!” my voice faded away and my tears took over, Stacey sat there, her arm still firmly around me as I continued to cry, unable to accept the facts I was given. Charles couldn’t be dead! He had such a good life! Why would he throw it all away? Was it my fault? Did I drive him to it when I had to break up with him?
After a while I ran out of tears, with my eyes dry Stacey let me go, I looked at her, “Stacey, it was my fault. I broke up with him, and if I hadn’t none of this would have happened, we would both be alive and together and well! Maybe—“
She cut me off, “Rachael Cooper, you did nothing wrong. Got it? It was unavoidable and he had some issues in his life that even you couldn’t take care of. There was nothing you could do to stop this, so don’t blame yourself.”
I sighed, “Stacey , what am I supposed to do now?”
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#34 BonkersBookworm78

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Posted 22 April 2013 - 03:27 PM

genghas that story made me want to cry, it was really good but really sad and I wish it was longer.
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#35 genghas

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Posted 22 April 2013 - 05:48 PM

genghas that story made me want to cry, it was really good but really sad and I wish it was longer.

Thanks, I have had a really hard school year, On December 6, 2012, a girl I knew committed suicide, then on December 7, 2012 there was an announcement for teachers to check their emails, turns out another kid I knew had died, this time from terminal cancer, later on that day there was another announcement for teachers to check their emails (I had gotten out of class, being unable to properly function, and was supposed to be in the theatre, but it was too depressing, so I was in the theatre classroom with the freshmen who had come over for their theatre class), turned out that another kid I knew had died, he was hit by a car. Three deaths in two days. Then 1 month later, another girl I was fairly close to killed herself, it was the first day of semester finals, thankfully I was at home because I had no finals that day, but I was home alone when I got the call, so I had to deal with it all alone. Two weeks after that another boy died of natural causes, I didn't really know him, but it hurt just the same. This story was inspired by a nightmare I had about if the gut I liked had been one of the ones to die. (sorry, I wasn't trying to depress you with this, it was just an explanation to my story for anyone who cared to know)
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#36 BonkersBookworm78

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Posted 23 April 2013 - 03:30 AM

Thanks, I have had a really hard school year, On December 6, 2012, a girl I knew committed suicide, then on December 7, 2012 there was an announcement for teachers to check their emails, turns out another kid I knew had died, this time from terminal cancer, later on that day there was another announcement for teachers to check their emails (I had gotten out of class, being unable to properly function, and was supposed to be in the theatre, but it was too depressing, so I was in the theatre classroom with the freshmen who had come over for their theatre class), turned out that another kid I knew had died, he was hit by a car. Three deaths in two days. Then 1 month later, another girl I was fairly close to killed herself, it was the first day of semester finals, thankfully I was at home because I had no finals that day, but I was home alone when I got the call, so I had to deal with it all alone. Two weeks after that another boy died of natural causes, I didn't really know him, but it hurt just the same. This story was inspired by a nightmare I had about if the gut I liked had been one of the ones to die. (sorry, I wasn't trying to depress you with this, it was just an explanation to my story for anyone who cared to know)

That must have been awful, so many deaths in such a short time. Your story wasn't half as sad as what really happened by the sounds of it. I hope you feel happier now , after writing that. Your story was really powerful and you write really well.
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#37 Caitie

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Posted 24 April 2013 - 04:29 AM

Mundo

  "Finally, a word I recognize. So much for those four years of AP Spanish in high school," Mona says as she spots an available taxi and approaches the young driver. "Hola, yo, um, 'necessario', no that's not right. Yo necessito a ir-"
  "Relax, I speak English," the driver interrupts in perfect, yet heavily accented English. He chuckles at her broken textbook Spanish. "It's one of those skills 'necessario' to the job," he lightheartedly teases. "Now, where can I take you, señorita?"
  Blushing, Mona replies, "Would it be possible for you to take me to Catalina?"
  "You are in luck! I live in Catalina and I was just getting ready to go home for the day. Hop in, I'll take care of your luggage." Mona takes a seat in the back of the green taxi as the friendly driver loads her bags in the trunk.
  It's a warm Friday evening in March as the two strangers head south on a coastal, dirt road to Catalina, Mexico, about fifty miles south of Cancún. Mona gazes outside the window at the clear blue water and fine white sand of the Mexican southeast coast. "Wow, where I'm from my friends and I have to dare each other to get in to the water of our beach. It's a swamp compared to this!"
  The driver smiles. "And where is that?"
  "Galveston, Texas. The port stirs up unsightly things in our water. So we're not exactly known for our resort-worthy beaches."
  "Is that what brings you down south to Catalina?"
  "No, my parents were determined to prevent me from having any fun during Spring Break. They sent me here on a trip with Habitat for Humanity to 'prove my versatility' for med school applications. However, my whole group skipped class today to make an earlier flight. I had to book a later flight all by myself. Heaven forbid I miss one day of class, even if it's for volunteer work." Mona immediately realized her sarcasm might be coming off as rude to the polite driver. She smiled apologetically in the rear-view mirror. He caught her look and silently answered with a soft grin of acceptance.
  "You don't sound too eager to visit my hometown. What will your group be doing, anyway?"
  "We're going to build a school on Calle Puesta. Do you have any idea where that is?" Mona asked.
  "Of course, Catalina is a very small town. Puesta is walking distance from my home. We should make it there before dark."
  "Great, I can't wait to set up my cot and get some sleep tonight. Jet lag, you know? By the way, what's your name? I guess we might run in to each other sometime this week."
  "My name is Segundo. What's yours?"
  "Mona," she answered.
  "Encantado, Mona. Tell me more about yourself. We still have awhile until we reach Catalina." He smiled invitingly through the rear-view mirror.
  Mona and Segundo talked nonstop during the peaceful hour-long cruise. Mona explained what it was like growing up as an only child. She told him of her pre-medical studies at a university in Texas and how her parents insist she prepare for a "real career" and give up her ambition for art. She calls herself a "resourceful sculptress" who can produce art out of any substance or material. At that, Segundo promptly hands her two clean napkins and a broken pencil from the glove compartment. Mona laughs and, without missing a beat, begins to shape her newest masterpiece as Segundo shares his story. He reveals his life as the younger brother to a model child, how his name in Spanish literally means "in second place". Therefore, he has always felt that he is destined for failure and inability to live up to his older brother, Diego's, standards. While Diego is going to college in America, Segundo enjoys helping with the family taxi business. He looks forward to meeting and talking to interesting tourists from around the world. It's why his English is so proficient.
  At least a half hour has passed when Mona finishes what appears to be an elephant made only out of her given materials. The broken pencil halves provide framework for the trunk and body. However, she places the figurine in her lap and remains listening intently to Segundo's story. She admires his animated way of talking, with all the grandiose hand gestures and facial expressions. When he pauses to take a much needed breath, he notices her elephant sculpture. "You weren't kidding! That's an amazing, uh, elephant, right?" he hesitates.
  "Thanks. And of course! Don't you see the trunk?" Mona replies.
  "Yeah, that's so awesome. You really have a gift, Mona. Would you mind if I put the beautiful work of art on my dashboard?" Segundo asks.
  Mona smiles and hands him the tiny elephant. At the same moment, she realizes they have come to a stop in front of a small shack. Though she's happy to see some familiar faces walking about, she finds herself not ready for the car ride to end. Mona found Segundo so easy to open up to and she couldn't stand the thought of not speaking to him again. Judging by Segundo's reluctancy to exit the taxi, he was feeling the same way. He finally steps out to retrieve her bags and then walks around the car to open her door. Mona is shuffling through her wallet, making sure she has enough pesos to cover the travel costs plus a generous tip. As she offers the money, Segundo draws his hands back.
  "Don't worry about it. I was on my way home, anyway."
  "Really, Segundo, I insist."
  "How about this? You can pay me the next time you see me," he suggested. And though this was very obviously a ploy to have a reason to see each other again, Mona accepted.
  After she stuffed the money back into her disorganized wallet, Segundo awkwardly held his hand out for a much too formal handshake. Mona bravely goes in for a hug instead and Segundo, while slightly startled, returns the embrace. Probably from the success of her previous bold action, Mona has the confidence to ask Segundo if he could come by the work site sometime tomorrow to visit her. He says yes. From then, it immediately became daily visits. Segundo gradually came earlier and earlier to help build the school with Mona and her group. They also stayed together later and later each night. They would dine at the local restaurant, swim at the beautiful beach, and have endless conversations on the tranquil shore.
  On Thursday afternoon during their break, Mona and Segundo are lying in the cool sand looking up at the sky when Mona says, "Mundo."
  Segundo looks at her quizzically and says, "yes, that means world."
  Mona giggles, "No. Mundo. That's our name mash up. You know, like Brangelina and Bennifer."
  Just as Segundo is laughing at yet another one of Mona's quirky Americanisms, he remembers high tide is coming. Only he remembers about two seconds too late.
  "Oh no!" Mona screams.
   They're laughing as they're ringing out their totally drenched clothes when Diego, Segundo's older brother, approaches them. He tells Segundo he doesn't want to cover any more of his work shifts while he is supposed to be having a relaxing visit at home. Segundo understands and gives Mona a longing kiss, unenthusiastic about having to part for a whole afternoon. They both know their time together is limited and they don't want to lose a single minute.
  Segundo returns Thursday night and they continue their romantic routine for one last weekend. The much unwanted Sunday finally arrives, the day Mona has to leave Catalina. Segundo drives her to the airport and they talk of mostly light subjects, avoiding the inevitable which is a mere hour away. They agree on how great the school turned out and how excited the children will be. When they arrive at the airport, a solemn air is about them.
  Segundo dares to speak first, "Mona, this week has been the most wonderful time of my life. I just hate that-"
  "I know," Mona interrupts. "I hate it, too. Being around you is so wonderful. You make me feel so happy to be me. Segundo...I love you."
  "I love you too, Mona. With all of mí corazón."
  Mona's flight is called and they share one last faltering kiss filled with so much yearning and despair. Segundo suggests that maybe they will see each other soon when he visits his older brother in the States. However, they both know the chance of that happening is very slim. Mona steps aboard the gate and turns around. As the young lovers give each other one last gripping look, they both think of how they will never forget the spring of Mundo.
  
  
  
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#38 Caitie

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Posted 24 April 2013 - 04:35 AM

I just finished reading everyone's stories. They are ALL so great and different. I love the variety that can come from one topic. :)
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#39 Caitie

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Posted 24 April 2013 - 05:03 AM

Just wondering, is this like the Valentine's Day contest where we will vote ourselves? If so, I hope I didn't miss the deadline!

Thanks!

Caitie
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#40 octoberoriole

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Posted 26 April 2013 - 02:35 AM

Hi all..Am I too late??? Anyway, here.

"Story 37"

"Augh!"my sister groans, "Worst concert ever."We're sandwiched between a couple furiously making out and a loud baby crying beside us. "Your birthday."I grumble as the mother beside me turns the baby towards me. The baby emits an Earth shattering scream as she ends up spitting all over my shirt. My face shoots to red as I hear my sister put her foot down."That's it!"she exclaims,"We're heading to the bathroom to clean up your mess then moving to another area!"she says, grabbing my arm and leading me onto the floor. We flash our ticket stubs to the usher by the concourse as my sister grabs some soap and grabs a makeup sponge from her purse. She dabs some soap as she starts to wipe as much baby spit she can from my shirt."Stand still!"she instructs me as two teenage girls come into the bathroom after us. One one of them has a blown up Instagram photo of one of the band members across her chest."It's Nate!"she grins to the other girl,"The lead singer. You love it?"she asks her friend as her friend squeals her delight."Nate "The Fig"Figgins. He's so dreamy."she coos,"Whoever Libby is really inspires him to write good music. And that's when our faces nearly turn pale with shock."Nate Figgins is the lead singer?"I ask the girl as my sister finishes cleaning up my shirt. "Yeah."the girl and her friend say in unison.My sister turns to me."Why do you think I brought you here Libby?"she exclaims as the girl and her friend suddenly scream with delight."oh my god you're Libby? Nate's Libby?"they say, suddenly facing towards me. My face shoots to a tomato hue. "Well I did date a Nate Figgins several years ago but we lost touch after his family moved."I say. "To Austin!"the 2nd girl chimes in. "Probably."I say,"After me, word on the street was Nate dated a girl named Layla so I never thought he'd ever remember me."I say."Layla cheated on him with the drummer. Since they broke up,his songs have been about a girl named Libby that works in a flower shop. We thought she was imaginary at first but then Nate confessed she existed which is why he came back to reconnect with her."the first girl said as my body collapsed onto the floor.

"Libby! Are you ok?"Libby can you hear me?"comes a voice. I wake up to find my sister, the two girls and a strange young man kneeling below me. "You hit your head kinda hard."my sister says, showing me a bad bruise across my forehead in her compact mirror."I guess. All I remember is Allison telling me that Nate wanted to reconnect with me."I say turning towards Allison. Her friend Kate removes the smelling salt from my nose as everyone moves away from the circle to allow the young man to see me."Is it weird that I had hoped we would?"he says. "Oh my God!"I scream,"Nathaniel Figgins!"Nate holds his hand out to help me out."Hello Libby."he says as everyone starts to walk back to the concert. Nate waves security as Allison,Kate, my sister and I view the concert from our new VIP seats.
Nate hops up onto the stage as he holds up my hand."She's ok everyone!"he says as the crowd roars. "All she needed was my singing to pull her through."and with that, Nate pulls me onto the stage with him.He belts into his smash hit "Spring Fling."as he sits me in a chair when one of his bandmates hands me a plastic daisy. He introduces me as "Libby the flower girl"then makes me sing the chorus of the song with him. The crowd is going crazy as tons of cameras seem snap our every move. Nate jumps around and does karate moves on stage as the lights dim and he suddenly plops a chair beside me. A disco ball is spinning above us as someone behind me hands me a microphone."Oh Libby."Nate coos, looking straight into my eyes."Spring is in the air and so is love. Everyone wants to be loved don't they?"he says as the crowd reacts. "Sometimes you need to drift apart to realize what you've lost."Nate says, turning to me. He takes my hand as he starts to croon into"Libby's Song":"A girl like she/would have never loved a man like me"Nate nearly chokes up when he finishes the song. He has tears in his eyes when he looks at me. "Libby."he says suddenly serious."I dated countless women before figuring out that you were the one. You inspire all my songs and everything I do. I waited all my life to see if fate could bring us back together."he says, suddenly getting closer to me.He takes the daisy from my hands and somehow threads it into my hair.
"You're like a pretty flower-Libby. Always blossoming."he says as he puts a plastic daisy ring onto my finger."Does your love still blossom for me?"I can see Allison,Kate and my sister nearly losing it in the crowd as I scramble to find the words to tell Nate but instead his lips press against mine as I grab him closer to flaunt my new ring. "It never stopped."I say, kissing him again.
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#41 octoberoriole

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Posted 26 April 2013 - 09:03 PM

Cold Touch


Allison N.


“Wake up.”

Your words echo in my ears like a dream of a distant memory.

“Wake up, Spring,” you repeat, and this time your words are clearer, but softer, like a lullaby. I begin to stir and stretch, and my bones crack from months of disuse. Before I open my eyes I already know that I am laying on the floor of a forest, deeply entangled in roots and twigs. When I sit up, the ropey tendrils of the Earth tear and snap, freeing me from the bed that I had laid in for the past eight months.

I keep my eyes shut a little while longer, feeling the rush of the cold air send a shiver up my spine. My hands flutter across the ground. I feel soft tufts of snow beneath my fingers, snow that you created, but I have to reach to touch it because the warmth of my body has melted a circle around me.

Then I open my eyes.

I am nearly blinded by the whiteness. Snow lingers on the branches of dead trees and blankets the ground in every crevice of the forest except underneath me. And then, I see you.

“Winter,” I gasp, and I fling myself into your arms. You catch me easily, securing me to your body with one hand behind my head and other around my waist. I know that my hair is brown and dirty, and there are flower buds weaved throughout it, but you don’t seem to care. Our hug only lasts seconds and ends too soon. We cannot touch each other for too long. You are too cold for me, and I’m too warm for you. It hurts us.

But that doesn’t stop you from taking my face in your hands and bringing your lips down to mine. I flinch at the touch; your lips are like ice. I can see you tense up as well. I am so warm that I could melt you.

“It’s been too long,” you say. When you breathe, a puff of white air clouds my face. Everything about you is white, from the cropped hair on your head to your porcelain skin to your silvery eyes.

“Way too long,” I agree. With some hesitation, I say, “How much time do we have?”

You smile sadly. “I’d say about a month. By then, you’ll have melted all of my snow, and I’ll have to leave.”

There is already a bubble of despair forming in my throat. Why did it have to be like this? Why did we have to be separated every year? Couldn’t Spring and Winter live together, love together, peacefully?

“Come with me,” you say, and we hold hands long enough for you to help me to my feet. Then I follow you through the forest. Wherever I step, the snow melts beneath my bare feet, exposing the brown dirt beneath it. Flower buds sprout up, too, matching the ones in my hair. Tulips, daisies, chrysanthemums.

You bring me to a lake. I shouldn’t be surprised. This is a tradition for us. The first date we have together after you wake me up, is to go to the lake. But I hate this tradition. I hate it because I have to take a part of you away.

The lake is frozen over with ice. You sprint out into the middle of it, raising your fists into the air, and I laugh from the shoreline. I laugh so loud that my voice carries throughout the land. I can feel the hibernating animals stir in their sleep as they hear the first call of Spring.
When you return, we sit at the edge of the shore, as close as we dare to be without touching, and then you say, “Do it.”

“I don’t want to,” I argue. The ice-covered lake sparkles, and the plants are frozen, undisturbed. I feel as though we are sitting in a moment of eternity.

“Please,” you whisper.

With a sigh I scoot closer to the shore. I let the tips of my toes kiss the edge of the frozen water, and suddenly, the moment of eternity is gone. There is a deafening crack, and a spider web fissure appears on the surface of the ice. The ice starts to melt, allowing the first trickle of water to gather at the shore, right beneath my toes.

You are laughing. “I love that.” Your eyes meet mine. “I love you.”

I can’t help but smile at that. “I love you too, Winter.”

***


Two weeks after you had woken me up, you are nothing but a silhouette, and I see you less frequently. I try to chase the snow in hopes that you’ll appear, but doing so makes the snow melt, and it is useless. Instead I must sit and wait for you. Waiting is excruciating.

One day, you appear beneath a tree whose lower limbs are still layered lightly in snow.

“Why can’t we be a normal boy and girl?” I ask you without any other introduction. “Why does it have to be like this?”

“Because we have the most beautiful job in the world,” you say. Your voice is soft, and I almost can’t hear you over the cool breeze. You spread your arms wide, as if exposing the nature around us. “And we have something that those normal boys and girls don’t have.”

“What is that?” My eyes are glistening as I look up at you. You move closer to me, although I know my warmth must be hurting you.

“We have forever. No matter what, I will see you every year for the rest of forever.” Your lips touch mine in a ghost of a kiss, and then the last trace of snow melts from the trees. Winter is gone. You are gone.

***



When the flowers in my hair have reached full bloom, I go to Summer. He lies in a field of daisies that I have planted, entangled in their stems. When I wake him up, he hugs me, but he is much too hot, and I can’t help but ache for the cold touch of Winter.


This is beautiful
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#42 Querida_Girl19

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Posted 26 April 2013 - 09:18 PM

This is beautiful


Oh my goodness thank you so much!! I loved yours! :a_smil08:
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#43 octoberoriole

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Posted 27 April 2013 - 12:49 AM

Oh my goodness thank you so much!! I loved yours! :a_smil08:


Your welcome. And thanks. I had to trim so much from the story the one thing that bugs me is that people get to know the narrator but the secondary characters seem to take a back seat in the story and you don't get to know them well....
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#44 Querida_Girl19

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Posted 27 April 2013 - 01:40 AM

Your welcome. And thanks. I had to trim so much from the story the one thing that bugs me is that people get to know the narrator but the secondary characters seem to take a back seat in the story and you don't get to know them well....


I know what you mean. It's a challenge to develop characters in 1000 words!
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#45 admin_ann

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Posted 27 April 2013 - 09:39 AM

Let the voting begin!

Go to this page and vote for your favorite Spring Fling story. The rules: you can't vote for yourself and you can only vote once.

Good luck! The winner will be announced in a few days - and will receive a FREE Meg Cabot book!
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