Creative Writing: A Fictional Narrative

Pulling into the drive-in of Sonic, the vibrant colors of the screen light up the black interior of my red Avenger. I ask my friend what she would like to eat, as her long painted finger nails nick the coins she is counting out trying to decide what she had enough money for. Although the lights in my car are not on, the moon and neon lights beaming from sonic provides enough light for her to count. The food on the screen, and the warm, fruity, aroma of the fried food and slushes coming from the building urge us to look for more money.

Minimis desperately wanted to stay in Castellum. He felt so appreciated here, so welcomed. He was sure word had spread about his fight with Maximus, and that he would be ridiculed by the entire kingdom for his actions. His lack of strength, combined with the fearful thoughts of what may lie ahead once he returns home, Minimis considered giving up, and letting the guards put him in prison for stealing the expensive medicine his father so desperately needed. However, he knew that was not an option. He had to complete his mission and save his father.

She's pushing her way into his room, not giving him a chance to stop her. God, this girl is pushy but he loves her anyways. She's looking around his room and all of a sudden he's self conscious about how bare it is. Only a bed and a desk, it was obvious he never made himself at home. Why should he? He's a broken and dying man, there's no reason to call a place home if you won't stay there long. "So are you happy now?" He asks her, looking into her crimson eyes. They take his breath away every time. "You're always pushing me around all the time." He tells her, but she doesn't seem phased at all, keeping her smile on her face. "You're just gonna ignore what I want, huh?" Now she has a smirk on her face, a playful smirk.

The pause in her momentum must have signaled Ken that he needed to explain further. “On my desk ... I put it to her on my desk!”

“YOUAREGOINGTOHAVETOBEQUIET,” I cut him short, reiterating the last part of my sentence in a desperate attempt to get it across before he could interrupt again. I scowl, and as I try to stand up to meet the boy, something tugs me back down. He’s stepping on my sweatshirt. “Can you please move your foot?” Silence. No response. “Can you please,” I growl through gritted teeth, “move your foot.”

Flashes of memory rapidly traveled though Allie’s mind; those captivating eyes and that beautiful, alluring smile; suddenly, she was transported back to that past December day, standing there on Meeting Street. Swiftly, Thomas was upon her; his lips on hers were hot with need as he took her mouth with his. Quick intakes of breath and grunts of disapproval reached Allie’s ears from somewhere in the room. To kiss this way in public, was very inappropriate, but she did not care; she returned Thomas’s kiss with a fervor that matched his.

“I’m fine, it’s okay.” I answer. It’s not. I’m not okay. I’ve been “released”, as General Tre would call it, on medical terms. No more army, no more fighting, no more justice. Normally I’d be happy, but under the circumstances given, it’s completely different.

First I will start off with research. Tristan and I decided to do a video with our voices voiced over it with pictures/videos playing. In order to do that we decided to get creative with it and do some “research” at different black places around LA. The first place that we visited was Leimert park. Leimert Park has become the center of African-American art, music, and culture in Los Angeles. Tristan also works at the California African American museum so she added some insight to the project from that. We also took the internet to learn some more about blacks in LA. I would say that most of our research came from internet but also

When their parents entered their room, Charlie watched as Maggie walked to the window and kept her back to them. They could all tell she was upset about something. Looking at Elliot, she pushed herself up further in the bed, as Callum grabbed Ian and took a seat on the chair next to her.

The girls sat seperated in two stark, cold rooms. Each of the girls was sat at a table with a clear plastic cup of water sitting at arm’s length from them, both cups untouched. How could they drink when their best friend was no where to be seen? They had been having an innocent night of fun at Mercedes’ house three weeks ago, the first of many planned for the spring break, watching movies on Netflix and eating a pizza they ordered. The night was full of rambling about how classes were, drama floating around the college, and the boys they were talking to. A typical night for three college sophomores.

You settled across from Sean in the recording room in yours and his apartment, set up on his second monitor and sharing a microphone. You were both about to be playing some Gold with Friends with Mark, Bob and Wade, something you had been trying convince Sean to let you do for a while, but he hadn’t finally given in until now. Sean never told you why he never wanted you to join them, and it hurt every time he never gave an answer even though he always swore that it wasn’t because he was embarrassed of you, you couldn’t help but think that was the reason why.

Curiously, she took a moment to look at the coat while wearing it. It was old and brown but not to a point where it had tears just a few little scuffs on the sleeves. The zipper was broken, jammed actually. With two pockets where April reached into to warm her hands. Ow… her finger was punctured by a small gadget she pulled out making her bleed. It was a strange machine, unsure of what it was she put it back in the pocket. She thought of turning back around to return it but weariness won her over instead. By the time she got in her car it was around 3 am and she was exhausted. Looking up at her rear view mirror she swore she saw something, a shadow. Maybe, being drowsy and tipsy is not a good combination. She rubbed her eyes, put on her

Maya adjusted her eye glasses with her hand. She was currently sitting on a bench at the park close to her home.She comes here every evening. It was an ordinary evening and she was watching the Brooklyn sky like every other day. Today was a tiring day for her. She went to school hoping that she can end the day peacefully without having to face Tasha and her friends. But like always her wish wasn’t granted. She went to get her books from the locker after reaching the school and she saw that people were looking at her weirdly. She ignored them but she noticed this the whole day.

“I’ve done it before. Never underestimate my ability to procrastinate.” I suddenly looked up from the beloved book in my hand as the words all melted together. The slightest bump in the road felt like a gigantic earthquake within every vehicle, especially Jennifer’s, who I was trapped with right now. The car’s stereo was softly humming calm, almost stress relieving music. Every once in awhile her crimson nails would tap the steering wheel making me agitated.

There she goes again. Mother can’t ever mind her own business, Seriously will it kill her to just leave her thoughts to herself. Little Mike came up tugging at her sleeve, his soft little fingers grasping at the cloth, a pull then another. “Yes sweetheart.” Mike looked at her, his finger pointed forwards, just at the edge of my vision. “It’s our turn now mommy.” She looked up; Mike quickly ran forward. “Woah slow down buddy, you can’t walk away by yourself.” Mike came to a sudden stop;he turned to look at her. “But dad lets me walk to the playground by myself. I’m not a little kid, i’m a gentlemen” I looked at him, eyes twinkling. “Well Mr. Michael it seems to be our turn so may you escort this fair maiden onwards.”