Creative Writing : My Life

We left John’s house and headed back to New Concord to pick up Charlie. On our drive we decided to stick our heads out the sunroof. The best night of our life or so we thought. We made it to get Charlie from behind Crenos Pizza. In the parking lot across the road. As we made our way back to Jake’s we were jamming to music and singing our hearts out on the way back to Jake’s house.

“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

I play football here at ULM and we have been in our fall camp for the last 23 days. It is a mental, physical, and emotional strain and tensions are running high. One day early on in camp we were out in the blistering heat practicing. We were almost finished when we called a screen pass and I was going to be the main blocker for the play and if I messed up it wouldn't work. Then as soon as the ball was snapped I stepped with the wrong foot first. This slowed me down and the defender was able to clobber our receiver behind the line of scrimmage. My position coach, Coach Clark, immediately ran over yelling, "What are you doing? Where is the direction you can't lose your man on that play?" I knew what I had done wrong, "I can't let him get up the

"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.

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.

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.

Good. I touch the icon and drag it. Oh, it’s following my finger’s movement. Alright, let’s see… I drag it to the slot that indicates my right hand. Immediately, the bokutõ shows up on my hand with a quick white light.

Sue froze where she stood, frozen for what must have felt like hours. “You mean, he waited all of this time to paint his masterpiece and not only did he paint it for me but – he used his life to paint it.” Sue was overwhelmed at the thought, she was the reason Mr. Behrman had gone out that night, she was the reason he had passed away. “I caused his demise, my own selfishness did this!” Sue cried. Johnsy quickly took hold of Sue’s hands and said to her: “No darling, you did just the opposite, you showed Mr. Behrman what he had been looking for, for these years. You inspired his masterpiece!” Understanding then that Mr. Behrman’s sacrifice for her, was no sacrifice at all, his dream had been fulfilled and he had continued his journey. At that

"Sometimes you gotta let something bad happen, or else you wont know how to fix things when they go wrong later."

Crumpled newspapers were scattered across the table like the tail of a peacock. Windows wiped down of memories were huddled in between oak frames, facing a street with cosy cottages. Single embroidered carpets hugged the floor, covering the marble tiles in delicate silk. A calm wind floated in through cracks of the panes of glass, whispering throughout the house. I breathed in gulps of air, allowing the icy coolness fill my lungs, and the morning frost creep out. My glistening blue eyes presented purple bags, and my normally sleek hair was a tangled cobweb. I’d been up all night, searching and seeking for answers. Yet answers had been as hard to find as a  black cat in a coal cellar.‘One year’ I announced, trying to force a joyful tone, but

A sudden rush as the drunkard next door plummeted through the drywall that separated us. A swift jerk sat me upright to see him quietly apologise and exit out the front door. I turned around to face the clock. It read ‘3.10.’{...} I picked up my pack of Imperials, lit one and followed the smoke out into the balcony [...] The town looked dead, apart from the working women who gathered at the end of the street. A cold breeze ran along the ground as I pulled out a chair to sit on. My hope began to end as I hurriedly puffed it away, blankly staring through the glass door, passively acknowledging that the walls needed repainting. I put the cigarette out and walked back inside, locked the door, drew the curtains, slipped into bed, pulled the covers

The blinding rays of Los Angeles sunlight jolted me from my comfy bed in my apartment outside of the UCLA campus. My eyes were still heavy with sleep and my usually coiled brown hair was in a fuzzy static mess. Out of the blue, my smart phone made an irritating buzzing sound on my bedside table. I turned my torso to the table and picked up my vibrating phone, while groaning and rubbing my eyes, to read who the caller was. “Dr. Flournoy…? Oh, it’s my therapist!” I mumbled to myself. I looked at the time on my phone. “Jeez, she’s calling at 5:00 in the morning? It must be really urgent.” I picked up the still ringing phone, curious about why she was calling me.

I walked through the door with you, the air felt cold but something about it felt like home. Surrounded by warm smiles and friendly greetings, I let the magical laughter twirl around me, so caught up in it that I managed to leave my scarf there, at your sister's house. Even now, you still have it in your drawer. 'Sweet Disposition' was blasting from the radio; your favourite song. You looked right at me and smiled, my wide-eyed gaze taking in each freckle on your face and each curve of your lips. Revving up the engine, we started to drive along the old country roads, singing loudly as we got lost on the steep mountains of Dublin. The autumn leaves were falling from the trees like pieces into place, alive with screaming colours of red, gold, orange as they crunched beneath the wheel of the car. I still thought you were the most vibrant one there. Now, I know it's long gone, and that magic's not here anymore, and I might be okay but I'm not fine at all. After all these days, I can still picture us there, on that quaint, little town's street. Your eyes were so fixated on me that you nearly

As you stand there on the pier, staring out into that damn green light, I find myself sitting here, chilled to the bone, my thin shoulders wrapped by a thick woollen blanket. I’m too tired to join you, but even if I wasn’t, would you even want me to? I ponder this often; do you even want my company? That green light, the golden girl you adore like no other, she’s your alone. Your vision, your dream, no one else’s. The one thing you couldn’t have.