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9:52pm Jan 22 2014 (last edited on 9:37am Feb 19 2014)
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Normal User
Posts: 95
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Age group: Teenagers (14)
This is a short story I wrote some time ago. Good luck guys. Entry Name: The Ologist The Ologist sat alone in the
corner of the large study room. The walls curved just like his back: in an
unnatural state as he leaned over to read his book, glasses threatening to drop
off the edge of his nose. All the contents of this room seemed focused on him,
slanted in a surreal state to stretch out towards him, as reaching to touch
him. Unmistakably he was having trouble with the large edition placed on the
mahogany coffee table in front of him because his dark eyebrows stitched
together every few seconds and he was murmuring under his breath, lips moving
softly. The book had been well kept, the words “Ology” printed neatly on the
binder in gold print. The pages were still readable, edges curled slightly. His
dark eyes skimmed the yellow pages slowly and every now and then he would tug
at his hair which was sprinkled with grey and white hairs. The lines on his
dark skin shone in the light of the lamp as he leaned back, closing his eyes
for a moment.
The Ologist was a man – who
before this moment in time- knew everything. He understood the true essence of
life in all of us: The Ology of the world. On the opposite side of the curious
room, a fan turned slowly around, the propellers merging into one shape. Heat was
blown around the room, just managing to keep it reasonable cool. Beads of sweat
began to form on the Ologist’s brow as the large antique clock chimed mid-day.
The sun’s rays dripped through the curtains and scattered glowing light across
the wooden floor. Tiny grains of dust could be seen spinning in the light in
endless, never ending circles.
I stepped forward, coughing
slightly to gain his attention “Hello, Ologist,” I said politely “we are glad
of your return to the village” My words came out slightly more formal than I
had meant them to be. Coughing again, I watched the old man cautiously. The
Ologist stared at the blankly for a few seconds, his eyes scanning me for
anything he recognized. He hadn’t been in the village for a decade now; people
had grown a lot since then. The Ologist was still, though, the crown jewel of
the village. People admired the fact a Sudanese man from a rural village would
hold the key to knowledge.
I relaxed slightly as a
flicker went through his eyes. Placing the book down, he turned his whole body
in my direction. “Ahmed.” He spoke in a voice which sounded like sand paper
rubbing together “Where is mama?”
“Down by the Nile, Grandpa.
She wishes to come a visit you another time” I said, shuffling my feet slightly
as he inspected me closer now. I looked down at my sandy boots and gulped
slightly, feeling as if they were out of place in the grand house. The book on
the coffee table, though, still was catching my eye every few seconds. I
suddenly felt for my pocket and my face lit slightly. I could feel a smile
playing on my lips as I picked the ob
ject out.
The light from the window
hit the crystal embedded in the rock, shining tiny flecks of sun in every
direction. Patterns of mud still splattered the surface. I felt it over once
more. The rough structure of it tickled my hand softly, leaving tiny crystals
embedded on my palm and finger tips. I held it out to grandpa happily so he
could reach out and take it from me. He stared blankly at the ob
ject, turning
back to his book. Sadly, I tried once more to give it to him.
“Look at it Grandpa, look how beautiful it is”
I said, leaning closer. The Ologist slowly pushed my hand away firmly, shaking
his head from side to side slowly. I stared down at my hand, shiny crystals now
swimming on my hand in a la
yer of deep chocolaty mud. I could not believe what
he said.
“Beauty is defined with knowledge, not
objects” He sniffed, not looking up from his book. I slowly closed my hand
around the rock tightly, looking down at the carpet once more.
“And what about papa?” The
Ologist asked slowly, looking me up and down again as if the rejection of my
gift had never happened. His eyes lingered longer on my boots as I made an
effort to run the sand off one with the other. My throat buckled slightly when
I tried to speak and I felt my face warming up “He died five years ago,
Grandpapa” I said sadly. I was six the last time I had seen him, mama still
forbid me to ask about the cause of his death. A dark silence had fallen over
our family.
The Ologist nodded his mind
absent from our conversation. Hot anger began to form inside of me as he opened
his book again and was engrossed in the writing. I began to edge closer to him,
curious. The book was still the main attraction in the room, apart from Grandpa
and the rock. I started to sit down opposite the Ologist, hoping he would
notice me once again. Unfortunately, he decided to turn the page instead. I
still couldn't quite focus on the book and so I leaned closer.
The words were in perfect
handwriting, the black ink flowing across the pages like water. I leaned in
further, trying to read the first words but they made no sense. Frowning, I
leaned so close my nose was almost touching the pages. That’s when I noticed my
grandpa, the Ologist, looking at me.
“Do you read English, boy?”
He asked. I felt a red blush creeping up my face as I shook my head silently,
eyes still on the book.
“Do you read?” The Ologist
asked. His voice made me cringe slightly, the sandy texture making my reply
hinted with annoyance “I do not read any language, sir. I do not go to school.
“
The Ologist frowned “But
without school you will achieve nothing.” He said dismissively. I felt as if he
had doomed me to a life as a young village man with no life. I looked at him
and frowned, nose crinkling slightly. Looking down at Ology and up at the
Ologist I thought of something which formed a smile. Standing up, I took a step
back.
“No, there are always things
school can’t teach us and books can never tell us.” I said, nodding to ‘Ology’.
The crinkled pages were flickering slightly as the fan spun round, head facing
us. I stood there staring at the Ologist for a very long time as he studied me.
He slowly touched the leather binding and closed ‘Ology’, placing the book on
the lowest shelf of the study. Staring at the hand I had kept the rock in he
stood up and left the room, dragging all his secrets with him.
Sorry if it's a bit long! |
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1:16pm Jan 24 2014
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Writer
Posts: 536
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Dream a dream, antithesis
Of what once was, that came before
The writings of a failed prophet
Destiny in dust and war
The echoes that were never real
And shadows jumping in the coal
Forgotten soldiers lie in pieces
And echoes deep within the soul
Why is it we choose to fight
These unending, pointless wars?
Just a man without a mission
And a life without a cause
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12:30am Jan 26 2014
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Normal User
Posts: 1,100
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BEAUTIFUL writing, everyone :D
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11:19am Jan 27 2014 (last edited on 11:27am Jan 27 2014)
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Normal User
Posts: 615
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Clink!
Shae forced one eye open, he hadn’t been sleeping, in fact he couldn’t
remember when he had last had proper sleep, he had been resting his
eyes, trying to block out his grim surroundings. Shae had often wished he could black out even
for a few hours.
Clink!
The sound was metallic and very quiet, it wasn’t even as loud as the
rusty scraping of Shae’s chains along the icy, stone floor, but for some reason
Shae’s brain had focussed on that one sound.
Clink! Clink!
Shae forced his other eye open, the purple bruising and swelling making
opening it an effort in itself. Shae’s
eyes focussed slowly on the wooden bowl of what passed as his food, there was
brown liquid in the bowl along with a few unidentifiable lumps floating on it’s
surface, it had a slightly acrid, rotten smell, he hadn’t touched it, he had
left it for the rats, if they ate it, it saved the guards forcing it down him
in an effort to keep him alive. Shae
wondered why the guards bothered, after all it only came straight back up again
when one of them punched or kneed him in the stomach which they inevitably did
several times a day. Shae moved his head
carefully, his hair caked in the dark crimson of his own congealed blood. Clink! Clinkety! Clink! Shae managed a painful scowl through his cut lip, and to add to everything the noise was irritating
him, he could block out the screams, the shouts, the sound of skin being flayed
from some unfortunate persons body, but for some reason he couldn’t block out
the soft metallic clink, it sounded like a rat, but unless one of the rats had
a metal leg it couldn’t be. Shae closed
his eyes carefully again, sleep was impossible but he didn’t have to stare at
the grim, blood spattered grey of the stone walls or the filthy straw which has
was sat in.
Start, will add more. :D
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2:37am Feb 1 2014
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Normal User
Posts: 498
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I will be posting once I go through my one stuff to find a decent enough story-part to post...and also what story I want to post up X3
Enter smart/witty signature here!
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5:57am Feb 1 2014
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Normal User
Posts: 1,100
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Good luck :)
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12:43am Feb 4 2014
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Normal User
Posts: 276
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I found this in my notes. I wrote it for some poem contest (In real life) a few years ago. Group: Teenager
Remembrance ( The old oak tree)
The green grass sway upon the high plains ones known as home
Morning breeze sweeps down and around
a delicate mixture of lavender and morning dew revive the sences and refresh one's old soul
Memories of the past now laid bare
I sit under the old oak reminiscing a youthfulness now long gone
in its place there is but a shell of what once was
withered through time, dulled and spent
Yet the soft blades of grass under my frail grasp bring me Comfort
The rolling hillside full of tranquil vitality
A haven now as much as it was many, many years ago
Once my child hood play ground now my sanctuary
The old oak, a giant relic of a time long gone by
seen through the eyes of an infant as It was then
now I see how it exudes vitality from deep root to delicate tip
A knowledge once closed off to my youthful gaze
Crystal clear to me now
Not so much through dull sight but through wizened mind I now fully appreciate
The old oak breathes in and exhales time ageless in itself
Like me it too has witnessed
So has it survived life's harsh winds and storms
But unlike me even now it stands rooted and strong un afflicted offering shelter
So I comfort in it's strength
I rest my wary bones and shelter under long limbs shadowed in its vast foliage
The rising sun does not touch my delicate skin
I am at peace under the old oak tree
Reminiscing what it was once to be young and care free
Yet I feel no regret nor do I yearn for what once was
I am free in my heart like the soft youthful blades of grass as they sway and dance
I'm am glad for the now as I once was
The cool wind brushes against my frail form as the oak leaves flutter above
I close my eyes welcoming in my inner thoughts
I revisit my old home, my family, my pet dog
I see in my minds eye my ones was now lost love
A tear escapes and trickles down my cheek
Not a tear of sorrow but of reminiscence a recollection of what once was
Happiness and sorrow mixed and moulded in to one sweet song
I sit and listen I see I feel
I was I am I always will be
Much like yet so unlike this old oak tree.
The best (and only) poem I ever wrote. Don't expect me to ever be able to do anything like this again. I must have really been inspired. I kinda changed it a bit in notes. Auto-Correct gave me some pretty good words. I had it in notes, sorry for the big format.
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11:02am Feb 7 2014
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Normal User
Posts: 1,100
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Bump
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6:31am Feb 9 2014 (last edited on 6:43am Feb 9 2014)
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Normal User
Posts: 500
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Name: Anthony101 ti
tle of Poem: Oranges Age Group: Under 13 This is a poem that I had wrote last year when I was in 7th Grade. I hope you like it ;)
The first time I walked
With a girl, I was twelve,
Cold, and weighted down
With two oranges in my jacket.
December. Frost cracking
Beneath my steps, my breath
Before me, then gone,
As I walked toward
Her house, the one whose Porch light burned yellow Night and day, in any weather. A dog barked at me, until
She came out pulling At her gloves, face bright With rouge. I smiled, Touched her shoulder, and led Her down the street, across A used car lot and a line Of newly planted trees, Until we were breathing Before a drugstore. We Entered, the tiny bell Bringing a saleslady Down a narrow aisle of goods. I turned to the candies Tiered like bleachers, And asked what she wanted - Light in her eyes, a smile Starting at the corners Of her mouth. I fingered A nickle in my pocket, And when she lifted a chocolate That cost a dime, I didn't say anything. I took the nickle from My pocket, then an orange, And set them quietly on The counter. When I looked up, The lady's eyes met mine, And held them, knowing Very well what it was all About.
Outside, A few cars hissing past, Fog hanging like old Coats between the trees. I took my girl's hand In mine for two blocks, Then released it to let Her unwrap the chocolate. I peeled my orange That was so bright against The gray of December That, from some distance, Someone might have thought I was making a fire in my hands.
Having a Show Room Clean Out! . Selling Albinos, Achromatic\'s, Calico\'s, and dye kit Colored Creatu, Seasonal\'s and MUCH, MUCH more, at the CHEAPEST price! |
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6:39am Feb 9 2014 (last edited on 9:59pm Sep 7 2015)
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Normal User
Posts: 253
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Written when I was 17... but I'm 18 turning 19 now?
Edit:: After seeing prizes, I'd like to be put in the Adult Section anyway please <3
DELETED FOR COPYRIGHT PURPOSES |
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11:04am Feb 13 2014 (last edited on 11:36pm Feb 14 2014)
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Normal User
Posts: 63
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(Age group is Teenager) ti
tle: Souls and Sunder
I sat nervously, trying to distract myself by playing with the ring on my finger, twisting it around in my hand waiting for my name to be called. I looked up at my surroundings, the perfectly white marble walls making me feel trapped. A giant grandfather clock stood at one end of the waiting room, ticking away softly. Tick, tick, tick. I glanced at the others around me, waiting for the same thing. Waiting to receive the necklaces. A door to the right of me had opened, leaving it, a boy holding a small, chest like box, a big smile on his face. Following behind him was a woman in a fancy blazer and pencil skirt, her hair in a neat bun. She looked down at a clipboard in her hand, and used a pen in the other to write something down.
She suddenly looked up at me, "Violet Meyers. We will see you now." She said to me in a rather bland tone. I sprung up, a huge knot being tied up in my stomach as I followed the woman into the conference room. She stopped in front of a desk, moving to the side and gesturing for me to sit down at the seat on the other side of her.
"Please, have a seat." She once again said in her flat tone. I quietly took a seat in the pleather chair and waited for her to continue.
"We know you have waited for this moment a long time. It is a very important milestone," She droned on about things I had already read in the handbook we were given. "It is also very important that you do not lose this necklace. Without it, you might never be able to locate your soulmate." Her eyes looked stone cold at me and I gulped, nodding my head slowly. "This necklace is solely made for you and you only. Abusing it will lead to very dire consequences, and I'm sure, Ms. Meyers, that you do not want to reveal these certain consequences." I felt like she was staring daggers into me. The sole purpose of receiving this necklace was to find your perfect match. Your soulmate. The only time someone had abused it was very long ago, when The Society hadn't been established. No one knows what happened to them.
"I understand, Mrs..?" I trailed off, waiting for her to tell me what I should call her.
"It's Ms." She replied coldly. That's when I noticed she did not have a necklace on her neck, as you are supposed to wear it 24/7 after accepting it. My cheeks turned red, for bringing it up. We call the ones who don't receive these special necklaces, the "Black sheep" or outsiders. The ones who don't receive necklaces were not compatible with others of the community, and therefore, no matches were found, no necklaces were made. They're outcasts.
"We have diligently searched the other Societies for your perfect match. You are to wear it always after you put it on. When you go on The Journey, it will get warmer as you are closer to your match, and colder as you are farther away. Are you ready to receive your necklace?" Ms. asked me solemnly, and I look up to her death stare.
"Yes, yes I am." I reply solidly, trying to show that I can be responsible enough. The woman nods and turns around to a safe on the wall. Punching in some numbers, the safe registered the passcode and a wall opened up. I was astonished, because inside were millions of tiny little safes inside, a bunch of different names for the people living in The Society.
Her hand waved toward the door, gesturing me to step inside and follow her through the endless rows of names. Ms. finally stopped in front of mine, "Meyers, Violet. Here you are." She said plainly as she took a huge key ring, with millions of keys attached. Taking mine out without a problem, she stuck it into the safe and twisted it, revealing what was inside.
For once, the woman had finally shown emotion trough the whole process. Her eyes grew wide and her mouth dropped, backing away for me to see what was inside.
"There's..nothing in here.." I gasp and put my hand to my mouth, shaking my head.
Ms. quickly regained her composure and closed the safe door, "I'm sorry Ms, Meyers, but The Society has not found you compatible with anyone. You will not be receiving a necklace this evening." Shooing me out of the safe room, my eyes started to tear up as she gave me a shove out the door before I could argue.
"But, there must have been some mist-"
"Ms, Meyers, The Society makes no mistakes. Now good day." She snapped at me, cutting me short of a plea. Everyone in the waiting room stared at me with rejection in their eyes towards me. I felt like an outcast. I am an outcast. I am a Black Sheep.
I turned around and quickly walked out of the Capital building, tears starting to stream down my cheeks. Above me, the sky roared as lightning struck down and thunder quickly followed it's path. The rain began to pour down onto me, soaking me to the bone as I continued to weep. I need to head home to Mother and Father, but they'll be so disappointed.. I sat down on the curb of the sidewalk trying to calm myself down, when out of the corner of my eye, I see something glint. Catching my attention, I turn to the shininess to find that it's..a necklace.
I picked the necklace up by the chain, feeling that it hadn't been activated by its owner yet. On the chain were two gears, with a missing third one, the one that powers it. I looked around, seeing if someone were around to have dropped it. The gold plated gears were wet from the rain pouring down. I sat, staring at the unique item, when it finally hit me. What if I were to wear it? It hadn't been activated yet, and then my parents wouldn't be regretful of me..
I stood up, considering the outcomes. Temptation overruled me. I slowly unhooked the necklace and put it up to my chest, the cool feel running chills down my back as I latched it back on and let it settle. A small glow emitted from the gears as the necklace began to activate. It suddenly felt relatively warm. The match must be nearby. An odd sensation rushed through my body as if the necklace itself were attaching to my very soul. It was intriguing to say the least. I shrugged and continued on my way through the rain, walking home under the soft glow of the street lamps reflecting from the windows of closed shops and houses.
Your average Kim Wexler apologist  |
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3:28pm Feb 16 2014
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Normal User
Posts: 1,100
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bumpety bump
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8:18pm Feb 18 2014 (last edited on 8:30pm Feb 18 2014)
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Normal User
Posts: 805
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This is the beginning of the story of my undead Meiko. You can put me in the adult category.
So much pressure, as if the weight of the world were slowly crushing him. Inch by inch, he sunk deeper. There was no light, no sound, no feeling. Until, suddenly, his consciousness came back to him in a flood. He felt a shiver down his spine as panic set in, the darkness and pressure were almost to much to handle. He tried to open his mouth to take a breath, but his efforts only resulted in soil filling his nose and throat. Eyes wide in panic the creature began to dig, with no remaining sense of direction the creature continued to dig furiously, shoving the displaced earth behind him as quickly as possible. After what seemed to him like a century, his head burst forth from the damp earth. Coughing and gasping for breath the creature climbed out slowly, collapsing on the chilly ground and falling instantly into a deep sleep.
Looking for an Albino Sheafu, offering pure!
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8:30pm Feb 18 2014
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Normal User
Posts: 500
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Have you decided for an end date yet Jayni?
Having a Show Room Clean Out! . Selling Albinos, Achromatic\'s, Calico\'s, and dye kit Colored Creatu, Seasonal\'s and MUCH, MUCH more, at the CHEAPEST price! |
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3:19am Feb 19 2014
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Normal User
Posts: 1,100
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No anthony
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3:35am Feb 19 2014
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Normal User
Posts: 694
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18+
This is Lone wolf poem, I wrote. I think its on my blog but I ain't sure. Its probably on fictionpress lol.
Lone
wolf
I
am a lone wolf
I
am watching you from a distance
Wondering
what I went wrong
You
went ahead and broke my heart
You
made me a lone wolf.
A
lone wolf
Not
to trust again.
A
lone wolf by heart.
A
heart that has been broken.
I
howl for you, you don't listen.
You
don't think twice, about the wounds
you
have opened up.
There
was once upon a time, where you were happy
to
chat and hang with me.
Now
you are distance and ignore me.
Where
did I go wrong, What did I do?
Why
couldn't you tell me?
Why
didn't you tell me to back off?
Why
did I trust you? Why did I have to try and not be a lone wolf?
I
am a lone wolf, a lone wolf forever more.
Watching
from a distance, wishing that I never had to see you again.
You
cost the friendship, not only between you and me
But
between me and your brothers.
How
do I trust him, when he is your litter mate
How
do I trust him, when you look alike.
How
do I trust him, when you always telling him what to do
how
to think
who
to like
How
do I trust when my heart is shattered
Thanks
to you, I am alone
Thanks
you, I cry
Thanks
to you, I am now the lone wolf.
A
lone wolf forevermore.
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3:37am Feb 19 2014 (last edited on 3:40am Feb 19 2014)
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Normal User
Posts: 79
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i will maybe edit this later and enter if i get the time ^^
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1:57am Feb 20 2014
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Normal User
Posts: 381
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Erm im in teens, im 14. This is my entry :)
Noises. Noises haven't been here for a while now. Noises don't visit. Noises don't like this place. Noises once more, then silence. I creep on all fours over to the wall, careful not to disrupt the darkness. I hear voices. People, whispering on the other side of the wall. I drag my bloodcaked hand across the wall as I creep towards the window, my nails leaving indents in the crumbling plaster. I grip the windowsill, pulling myself up. My feet brace against the wall, the claws of my toenails lodging into the wall. Silence surrounds the dark once more as my eyes dart around the outside. Pulling on the iron bars, my scream breaks the silence as they give a sigh and come unstuck from the frame. My body drops to the floor with a sharp snap, the left shoulder leaving its socket.
"Must find them. Must get out." I snarl, dropping my arm down beside me. It drags behind me as I shuffle over to the open door. Cobwebs sweep through my hair as I make my way to Area 6. Area 6 is a safe zone, but none of us go there anymore. Its not safe at all really. But I know I need to get there is I want to see the noises. A set of unfamiliar stairs startles me and I tumble into the gamesroom. Theres a shift in the shadows in the corner.
"You May?" I call, scrambling to see her. Theres a fumbling before a ball rolls in my direction. I pick it up with my working arm. Its got scratch marks over it, blood dried into the engraved lines. I roll it back, hearing a small grunt of protest.
"I...I May." The voice replies. I smile, but there are no teeth left to really smile with. I crouch, creeping towards May. Her hands fumble blindly as she searches in the dark. Dirty skin meets mine as wild eyes find eachother. I sit down next to May, feeling her heat radiating towards me. The smell of urine is strong and I feel the damp ground underneath me.
"May. I heard an outside. I really did." I whisper, running my hands over her strawy hair. She shudders as my hand run downs her back, along each pronounced vertebrae. My arm snakes around her waist, pulling her into my side. Her skin is sagging off her and her breathing is raged, I know it wont be long until I have to carry her body to Area 6. "May. Im going to Area 6..." I mumbled, my hand resting on her knee. She kisses my lips and I can taste something sour, or maybe its bitter. I havent eaten in a week. But I like it. "Will you come with me May? I wont let the outside get you this time. I promise, promise!" Finger dig into my papery skin and nails draw blood to the surface. So I leave May. A strangled cry leaves her lips as I drag myself upstairs, my kneecap shifting as it clips the final step.
The dull sunlight streams through a window down the hall and I brace myself against the wall, my skin crawling.
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8:56am Feb 22 2014 (last edited on 8:23am Mar 12 2014)
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Normal User
Posts: 783
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I'm subbing and i'll enter when I find something good EDIT: Ok, here it is, finally. This is in the under 13 category. The Dying of a Tree A tree is brave, a tree is strong, A tree stands tall with life and song, Until the time that it must fall, A keening cry is life's last call.
It crashes down with force and strife, The last remembrance of it's life, It's final blast, it's final blow, Ends it's final urge to grow.
The forest quivers in the wake, Of that last and final quake, The forest is as silent as a forest can be, Upon the dying of a tree.
 Meh bootiful OC Badger <3 |
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10:50pm Feb 22 2014 (last edited on 11:00pm Feb 22 2014)
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Normal User
Posts: 663
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I want to post, but my best writing is too dark, and I think that it might break the Res rules... but here is one of my lighter "stories". It is just a paragraph, just a scene.
Age Group: Teens
It was a night that many would consider the
opening scene of a horror film, with the trees swaying and the wind howling.
You quietly walk down the path, staring at the weathered tree and the broken
cobblestone littering the path. You step into the puddles of water, relishing
the sound of the splish splash as the water flies up and lands on the pavement.
The moon casts an eerie glare across the landscape, making the gnarled tree
seem as if it is glowing. You stare at it, wondering how something so old and deformed
can still glow with the serenity of the moon. You wander around, running your
hands over the plants as life fades from them. You have always wondered why
people were afraid of the coming of Death. Yes, Death is something mysterious
to the world, but it is almost ethereal once you see the light. The moment that
Death comes is not something to fear, but something to relish, for it means
that your journey in the living world is complete. You carry on walking down
the path, the path leading to the graveyard. You smile softly as a cat races in
front of you, its green eyes flashing in the darkness and its black coat fading
into the shadows. Many of the living would call it a bad omen, but you would
call it a blessing. You continue down the path, skipping slightly as you near
the graveyard. You ease the gate open, wincing slightly as the creak from the
old metal gate pierces the air. You run to the middle of the graveyard, smiling
as the spirits of years past dance to the tune of a fiddle. No, it is not a fiddle;
it is the fiddle, the fiddle of Death. You quickly join them, swaying and
clapping in time with the music. Hours pass, and as dawn approaches, you quickly join the
spirits as the lively group runs toward the moon. Laughter fills the air as
the souls of the young and old join in a race towards the receding light. When the sun
fills the sky, the souls have left once more. And for the day after Samhain, all could hear the laughter of the
dead.
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