Creative Writing: Merrylin Cross

Beth was raised by the mob. She’s never gotten herself into a situation her family couldn’t drag her out. So when those closest to her wind up dead or missing, she’s left to her own devices. She quickly realizes how hard it is to survive on her own.

Today we will be celebrating the life of my little sister and best friend, Marilyn Cross. Marilyn changed the lives of many people, she was accepting, optimistic, and many more things that cannot be explained. Marilyn was a sister, daughter, niece, grandchild, and close friend.

My name is Kaley Purdom and I write to you hopeful to give you some insight as to who I am as a person. A few things you should know is that I’m very reserved among people and apprehensive when it comes to speaking in class and or making speeches. Although, when around family and friends I liked to be hysterical, outgoing and boisterous. Making people laugh and smile are always enjoyable moments that I get throughout my life.

Zane plops onto the floor like a sack of potatoes, making a satisfying “whump.” He glances around at the ordinary crowd of children. The race to fall to the ground has ended, and the students once again resume their anxiousness, murmuring beyond control. The usual deduction as to why he and his peers are sitting on the floor rush into Zane’s mind, Oooooooo! Someone’s in trouble! The true answer has escaped him. Today is the annual Children’s Garden of Knowledge summer field trip. Every year, Zane and the handful of students who attend his preschool make a trip to some magical location that is sure to bring merriment to the dull life of a child. The detective is pulled out of his investigation by the familiar sound of hard skin-to-skin contact.

Seated on a boulder of Missouri red granite, Rachel watched the water gobble bit of ice as it swirled downstream. Spring arrived late, but the creek flowed with a bubbly sound now, the crisp water laughing at ice clinging to stones near the bank. To Rachel, the scene presented an apt example of her life. Born in an ever-changing stream, one could only cling to the familiar for a brief season before reclamation loomed.

The crowd gazed at the green-skinned woman in silent horror. She had already gone around terrorizing everyone in the square. Vella and Shay heard Oz whisper something to Glinda. The woman whipped around and looked at him.

I envied Kayla Woodson from the day I thought that looking pretty was more important than being a good person. She was one of those girls who got whatever she wanted. She was considered to be the most beautiful girl around, and I always wondered why. She was a bully who harassed other girls who weren’t pretty enough to be a part of her clique. Did that make her beautiful? Was having a pretty face all one needed to be called beautiful?

When Sarah detained in Nauru, for 2 days, she didn't eat anything. She mourned for 2 days because the incident that happened in the ocean grieved her heart, for she considered how her brother lost. Shaza said to Sarah, "I lost my son, and I don't want to lose you also."

She put a slash of black ink over the 4th day of August on the calendar. She was worried. She was scared. Her name was Queen Adelina of France. The queen’s long blonde hair swayed from side to side as she walked to the window sill of the castle’s turret. She gazed over the great town of Alsace. In the distance, Queen Adelina noticed a black horse wandering among the vast planes. The queen was pacing around the turret, biting her fingernails. She peered down to the grand doors of the great castle of Alsace. Two stiff guards were standing at the door with a bow and arrow. Queen Adelina walked over to a bench and lit a candle. The queen heard a galloping horse outside the window. She leaped off the bench and her long, golden dress waved back and forth as she walked to the window. King Baldric of the French was riding to the castle on his golden

A stream of hot water pours down from a shower embedded in the low hanging ceiling. Everything is awash with a hazy golden warmth from slow burning candlelight, softened by the rolling steam. Every breath was thick with the scent of jasmine flowers diffused into the air. "Let's try something different today," Sunny had suggested when he arrived that afternoon. First she had coated his body from head to toe with a mixture of fresh ground coffee bits, rich plant butters, and stimulating essential oils, invigorating his skin and mind with the rich, intoxicating aroma. Then she started up the shower. The water rinsed away all the exfoliating grit. Now her powerful hands, so small and finely shaped, glide along the muscles of his back, with pressure

I'm a senior graduating in May. In my four years at LSU, I've not felt more inclined to nominate a faculty member for an award until I took Dr. Sheehan-Dean's class. He is a phenomenal professor that's engaging and accessible. He goes out of his way to help students and gives detailed feedback on all assignments. He doesn't take attendance, but he's such an excellent lecturer that his classes are always full. His expertise with the Civil War, in my opinion, is unmatched, and he communicates that knowledge clearly and effectively.

I wasn’t asking my mom every day anymore if she needed me to go to the store for her, but I always went whenever she needed me to. When my siblings asked me to drive them to the mall, I wasn’t always so eager, but I took them every time. Then, one morning my mom asked me if I wanted to drive her Range Rover to school. “YES!”, I screamed. She handed me the keys and said, “Be careful, it’s a lot quicker than the Ford CMAX”. As I slowly and carefully pulled the Range Rover out of the garage, my mom motioned for me to put my window down. She then leaned into the window and asked me if I had a name for my new truck. I said, “What?, what are you saying?” She then told me, “Your dad and I feel that because you always take your responsibilities so seriously and with such a great attitude, we want you to have the Range Rover. You’ve proven that you are now an

The warm blood runs over my fingers as I grasp his throat, digging my fingers into the deep, seemingly endless wound where my blade had danced only but a minute ago. His body is convulsing slowing coming to a halt by the second as I look into his eyes while watching the life drain from from them and into my soul. I bet my dad would be proud now, as he would always look into my eyes with the look that he would have his hands wrapped around my throat, dangling my body in the air until I pass out. Furthermore, I would wake up sore and bloody, however, I gift them death. Nonetheless, this would end their suffering which I never received.

Mary Anne was dangerous. She was ready for the kill. She was wearing her usual clothes. Her culottes, pink sweater, and a necklace of human tongues. Little did people know, that necklace was no ordinary necklace. Every time she killed. She took the dagger, cut the tongue off, and dried the tongue under the bit of sunlight that shone through the dense forest and the calming yet tense breeze the blew through. Then, once the tongue was dry. She would put a hole in it and hang it onto the necklace. She wasn’t that sweet, appearance caring girl that once showed up. Sure that sweet girl is still a part of her but now her dark side has awoken. It’s going to take more that a girly sleepover, nail polish, and makeup to get it back.

Sky was angry. “Yes I know that, but the next time you want to kiss me for any reason you better ask first.” Edmond was still in shock; he could only bow his head, and kissed her hand and submitted. “Yes my Queen.”