Creative Writing: My Hero's Journey

The forest had gone.... and the Witch looked much younger. Audette opened her eyes and had found herself upon a brow of white lilies. The shape of the shrouded old woman seemed changed. Having turned around, and opened her mantle to the tearing gusts, Meliza revealed to the young lady two streams of shinging blackness and smooth white flesh. Audette stopped in her tracks.

The world is on fire. I crouch in the small interior of a vessel. Watching in disbelief as everything burns. I shall tell you what I know of how this tragedy came to be.

From a young age, I have always been taught to understand the value of education and learning. Reading and writing have been emphasized to me as tools for success, that should always be constantly improved, for as long as I can remember.

After saying goodnight to Simon and Magnus, Clary quickly shut the door to the library. The hallway was silent and still as the ocean tide, she had heard Lilian call for her just as her best friends in the world told her their goodbyes for the night. Magnus had conjured up a portal which would take him and Simon back to the village where they lived. Simon lived in a simple but modest house, on the outskirts of town, on a farm with his Mother and older sister. Magnus however, resided in a small, comfortable loft just above the local clothing store.

Laurel nodded her head when she heard that Zinda would be willing to aid her in her efforts of keeping the city running smoothly. “With that attitude I think Ryder will love you.” She stated with a small laugh, her head shook from side to side. “Even before the outbreak I always had a hard time sleeping.” She reached her right hand up and placed it against the back of her neck, rubbing at it. “So it really doesn’t bother me all that much.” She nodded her head. She knew what Zinda said was true, that she should try and sleep more but that seemed easier said than done. She really tried to sleep at night sleep just seemed to elude her, it was never there when she really need it. Like the night they got back from the Farmhouse, all she wanted to do was fall asleep and forget the whole events that had taken place there. Sadly that didn’t happen, she stayed up all night thinking about how she could have done thing differently, that she should have stayed with Kate.

After John harnessed the team to the wagon, he, Charity, and Charles loaded Uriah into it. She and Charles then headed to town with him. She left John and Martha Jane to watch over the younger children, with strict orders that they had all better be on their best behavior until her return. John was nearly twelve; she figured he ought to be capable of watching the little ones.

Drenched and frozen, only the warmth from their mothers’ kept the young creatures sustained. The trees’ limbs hung low from the weight of the swampy atmosphere; causing the joyous ambience of the forest to restrain her passion.

If he had been human, everything would have been easier. Hal's life would have been so much better; he wouldn't have been forced to fight, or be controlled by the code in his head. He would have grown into a different, maybe better person. But then, they would still be stuck in the compound, still there when the bots had malfunctioned, and they may have not even escaped. Perhaps they would have died an untimely death and not have escaped into the wastes and would be left to rot in the desecrated compound, forgotten, and the only sign they were there were their desecrated skeletons, and even those would be ground away by the sands of time until they eventually became nothing. It was a pity that they would meet that fate regardless; Dirk would

Weeks later, as Snowman stares into the familiar bright green eyes, he thinks back to what led him here, forgetting the fact that in a few moments, his whole world will be turned upside down.

A fortnight passed, and Percy and his siblings spent extra time with Will. After coming close to losing him, they all got along better than ever.

It was unclear what exactly woke up the small elf, maybe the unfamiliar sounds of horse hooves against the ground, maybe the bright sunlight shining through the sparse forest, maybe the motions of the carriage from the uneven terrain, or some divine forsaken mixture of the three. When she attempted raising her arms to shield her eyes from the harsh light, she discovered that they had been bound together, and rather tightly at that. 'Great,' she thought to herself.

It was dark when I arrived at the village. People were going about their nightly chores before they retired for the night. They quickly escorted me to the wigwam of a woman who was in labour.

It happened so fast, faster than the speed of light. His face was contorted in such a way I didn’t know what my reaction should be. He looked terrified but yet pensive, like he was floating almost gliding through the wind like a bird. He hit the water with a BAM! And he didn’t rise to the surface like he normally had the previous times we jumped from the tree. He came back up so I knew Finny wasn’t dead but, he half thrashed half swam over to the shore and I instantly knew something was wrong. When I was finally able to see what happened to him after he fell, his leg looked as if someone took a hammer to it. Thankfully I wasn’t alone. Since we were in the midst of our Super Suicide Society of the Summer Session initiation meeting I was accompanied

Again, the dark laughter echoed in her head. Shit, shit, shit. She was so damn stupid, so bloody arrogant. In spite of the sunglasses she wore to lessen the risk of overstimulation to her senses, the lenses were no safeguards against the weighted stares of the people on the bus, and Tung wasn’t here acting as a buffer.

Have you ever been given an assignment where you say to yourself, “how the heck am I going to do this?” or maybe, “what am I supposed to write about?” Well that’s exactly how I felt, thought, and did with this writing journey. Coming up with something to say about my writing journey has been difficult. I would be bold enough to say nearly impossible. So impossible it’s like trying to get a camel through the eye of a needle. Okay that might be an exaggeration, but it has been difficult. The idea that I have a writing journey I understand. But thinking of an event or something that has made my writing the way it is has been difficult. So, what I’ve decided to do then is to write about my writing journey writing this paper.