Creative Writing: False Hope

I don’t know when the consultant will visit again, and we need more supplies for the office.

“Wake up,” that’s what I heard after passing out from all the blows to the face. My vision is blurred I’m trying to stay awake but I lost consciousness; all of a sudden I felt a splash of coldness on my face, and I woke up gasping for air. The man with the deep ominous voice said, “Wakey wakey little man” I replied, “where the h*ll is Mako!” when I was fully aware of where I was, that’s when I started to panic.

“Some people say I was lucky to survive, other will say I deserved it for the choice I made. I’m here to say I was lucky, it’s never ok to say your life isn’t worth living even at your worst you can always look forward tomorrow will come and if you put your mind to it you’ll see that anything is possible.” – Stephen McGregor Professional Paralympian

Endless nothingness scrolled for miles, blackened and dark. No force weighed him down, the constant humming of the universe filling his ears. No matter how hard he tried to open his eyes, however, they wouldn't budge. No matter how hard he tried to move, his muscles locked up. No matter how hard he tried to breath, think, feel, he just... couldn't. Dread would start to settle in, but no matter how it tried to break through, only apathy took it's place. Waves of emptiness crashed into him, swirled around him without end. The spray of dread slipped off as soon as it hit, drenching his clothing, but not his skin, not his body. Nothing seemed to matter. Nothing did matter- matter didn't even exist here. Lightyears of pure darkness, not an inch of light, not a ray of happiness, life, could break the darkness.

"Wake up, partners," the trail boss, James called. I sleepily looked up , shivered, and saw I was the only one not up. "Here," James said, giving me the horses' bridles and saddles. "Take these and get the horses ready. We have a long day today." I groaned in reply and set up the horses for the day's long drag. I was the horse wrangler and this was my everyday job but I still couldn't get use to the idea of waking up before the sun and working. We drove the cattle into open plains against the winter's cold wrath.

Katy meets with Gilbert down at the courthouse and sign documents with him and they hand them in to get stamped with photographers and their parents nearby. Their document is stamped with a void and a different document is put in an envelope and passed to Gilbert. He puts it in his pocket and tries to kiss Katy, but she quickly stepped away from him in fear.

Then some of people noticed a new guest, dress as a clothes of the Red Death. Everyone was freaking out because of him. When Prince Prospero saw this guy, he became angry and asked courtiers to seize him and unmask him. But no one have the courage to do it, including Prospero himself. The Red Death walked through the rooms, heading toward the black room. Prospero chased him with taking his dagger. Prospero reached the edge of the dark room, the Red Death suddenly turned to face him, and Prospero fell on the ground and dead. "Then, summoning the wild courage of despair, a throng of the revelers at once threw themselves into the black apartment, and, seizing the mummer, whose tall figure stood erect and motionless within the shadow of the ebony

“I don’t think you want to hear what I have to say about the way you treat me, now go home and look after your daughter, she needs you,” Silvia demanded, shrugging Walker’s arm off of her body.

Whoever that is, was it so obvious that she was torn? Dizzy wondered if it was just Fallen that might notice or if she were wearing some damned sign or something. Maybe it was a guess, or nothing at all, Dizzy had no idea but she didn't want to dwell on it. Not when she had something that actually made her happy right in front of her. "Well anyone after any part of you will have to go through me." she spoke with a real amount of censarity in her words before a shiver ran down her spine.

“Anything that can help us find out who did this.” I said, examining the crime scene. I walked towards what used to be the glass case that held the crown, but was now a useless, shattered cube.

Ludwig looked absolutely pissed. That was the first thing Arthur noticed as the blonde stalked down the halls, hair down for once, clothes askew, and such a strong irritation on his face that Arthur couldn’t help but snort to himself. It looked like someone had gotten up on the wrong side of the bed, Ludwig never let his appearance be thrown together like that. The next thing Arthur noticed, however, was a little more interesting. A small statured man with silver hair, whose head only came to Ludwig’s shoulder, was hanging onto the blonde’s arm, a large grin on his lips. Now who the hell was that? It wasn’t like the Brit had seen him around school before, and Ludwig certainly hadn’t mentioned him.

By nightfall they had finished all of the burials. It was depressing to see how many people were dead, even more so knowing that wasn’t the majority of them. Several times throughout the day new carcasses were dumped carelessly on the dwindling pile, just adding another hole to dig.

A blue house, red shutters, and a white picket fence with a border collie. Three kids are running around in the front lawn up on a hilltop. That is what the American dream is right? The American dream is truly in the eye of the beholder. One might think that the American dream is an apartment in downtown Los Angeles, but others might want the smell of fresh cut grass in a small suburb. It’s whatever the person who is working for it wants it to be. As we can see in the play, all of the main characters might be striving for an American dream, but none of them are striving for their same American dream.

The next morning (Y/N) slowly woke up, sitting up and rubbing at her eyes. She blinked a couple of times before looking around the room. She went to go get up before doing a double take, her eyes widening. Sitting in random places in her room were all of the characters from The Outsiders, at least all of the characters from Darry's gang. She tried not to start freakout, looking at everyone. They were just like she had imagined them.

“You cut you’re beautiful, long hair after your return. Mom thought you were in protesting the war, but I saw you two. I knew the real reason you cut the longest blond braid in the neighborhood.”