Voices Of The Night - Original Writing

Rion calmed from his night terror easily, and he and Percival went back to sleep. When morning arrived, Rion shot out of bed with a grin, full of his typical energy. He had no memory of his tears and screaming the previous night, which was just as well; the boy deserved peace after all the heartache he had weathered.

Carla went to a party in a neighborhood that was not familiar to her. The host of the party was only introduced a week ago through a mutual friend. After entering the party and looking around, she noticed that none of her friends had yet arrived. This was not a problem for her, taking off her coat and grabbing a drink, she introduced herself to the other people at the party until her friends arrived. At the end of the night, she felt very energized and happy. Connor arrived at the same party shortly after Carla. He had not really even wanted to come to the party, but Cara and his other friends had convinced him. He entered the house and could not see anyone he knew, so he decided to wait in the quieter part of the room until his other friends arrived. Connor had fun at the party, but after it had ended he was tired decided to go straight to bed when he arrived at home without talking to anyone else. Both of these characters arrived at a party. The difference between the two friends lies in their personality types: Carla was an extrovert, or a person who is “concerned primarily with the physical and social environment.” In contrast, Connor was an introvert, or a person who is “characterized by concern primarily with his or her own thoughts and feelings.” According to twentieth-century psychologist Carl Jung, humanity can be divided into these two main personality types. The differences between these two personality types can be found biologically, socially, and behaviorally.

She rolled onto her side, and grabbed her phone to see what she missed the night before. The brightness was all the way up, causing her to tear up and rub her eyes. She yawned and braved the cold in her house. She stood up, threw on her favorite sweatshirt and trudged down the hallway to the living room. She sank into the couch, but the sweet scent of cinnamon pancakes, maple syrup, and perfectly crisp home fries filled the air, making her stomach grumble. Alexis knew breakfast would be gone if she didn 't get it soon. She grumbled, and shuffled into the kitchen, when her little brothers, James and

"It 's been two hours. Maybe she 's in for the night." Logan whined, hopeful and uneasy. They 'd been through a Big Mac each, fries, Doritos, and he 'd had a milkshake she 'd warned against and now knew why. He was thinking tonight was a bust, more than a bust, he reminded himself, because he 'd spent way too much time with Veronica Mars.

She strode into the room as elegant as ever, as if trying to be noticed, trying to be loved, trying to say something. Nothing moved in the silent room, as she walked in and observed it carefully, like a hawk stalking its prey. She became aware that she was now alone in the dark room, with nothing to notice her, to love her, to hear her. She walked over to the window and looked out into the night. The dark streets were silent, with not one light to be seen in the night. She closed her eyes and hoped, that when she opened them, she wouldn 't be alone anymore, that she would have a family to be loved by. But she knew in her heart that her hope was false, and she was still standing in the dark, now chilling room. Iris stood there, staring into the darkness of the empty room. The realization of being alone hit her like a silent explosion went off in the room itself. Iris was hopeless. She walked over to the dusty light switch that loomed in the corner of the room, as if to warn its visitors of what was about to be lifted from the shadows. Iris flicked the switch cautiously, and closed her eyes as the room enlightened. Iris slowly opened her eyes to adjust to the bright light, and observed the new perspective of the room. She looked around, and one thing was different. A boy. Sitting in an old chair on the far side of the room that looked as if it would collapse at any moment. Iris suddenly felt different. She felt a small spark of warmth deep inside her, gradually growing, making

he purple sunrise awoke the nature around Wanniansi Temple, illuminating the skies from darkness. Empty and hazy, Toki tried to collect her thoughts from the day before. The temple training seemed so vivid yesterday, but though just less than twelve hours ago, the memory seemed like decades old.

Dan had found Phil something to slip into and had passed him both that and a towel before leading the boy to the bathroom and making quick work not to linger. He wasn’t altogether alone but in that moment, he felt alone with his thoughts. The pattering of rain mixed with the noise of his shower faucet. It became a quiet reminder of Dan’s previously glum mood. He couldn’t drag himself from the memories of his brother’s body lying baby blue in his arms. His jaw locked into place and his hands balled into fists. It was his fault. If he had just taken his brother in the first place it never would have happened. It was his fault.

It was like any other show. A mixture of nervousness and excitement filled the air which, surprisingly, smelled just like the hairspray which hung over the freshly-curled heads of hair of the group of dancers which I stood with. The lights were dim in the side stage wing, allowing me to see only the silhouette of my friend, Jade, who stood impatiently next to me.

I had glanced over at my mom, her breaths were shallow and light. Her eyes were closed and her hair was still soaked from the shower. She tapped my Dad on the hand,

Castle woke up with bleary eyes and a dull headache. He had been up late writing and couldn 't even remember when he had went to bed last night-probably sometime early this morning. Beckett had awoken quite a while ago, judging by the coolness of the sheets, and had let him sleep a bit longer. He shuffled into the bathroom, turning on the light, and squinted at the in"tensity of the brightness. Definitely had a headache. As he washed his face he felt a bit of stubble and made a mental note to shave.

Everyday, it seemed I and June always sat by the lustered dark river, for hours staring at nothing but the clouds in the sky roll by and the sun setting at the horizon, disappearing behind the tall pointed mountains. It was always so beautiful, peaceful, and enlightning.

Everything was beautiful that night. The sky was as clear as the spring water. The weather was so beautiful that we thought that we were not in the summer. I was sitting outside the house in our garden with my parents. We were having a nice chat after a delicious homemade crispy chicken with fries that my mom usually do. Everything was just perfect until my father received the unexpected call. The call that I wished my father didn’t receive.

I sat on the bench outside the apartments as I watched the day we had finished practice and all the girls had plans so I sat here and watched the weather. I had been sad all day so I half expected rain and terrible downpour and cloudy and grey just terrible weather but it wasn 't. It was beautiful the sun was shining and it was slightly cloudy so it was perfect 65 degrees out I looked at the sky and just sat my head on my knee I wanted to cry but maybe my eyes had dried out from crying I pulled my knees up and I just sat in silent as the chilled air wrapped around me I just watched the empty space for what felt like ever. I still watched the sky as a car pull up in front of me I heard the door open and close and soon there was a person in

The lights were out for the fifth time that year. I was no stranger to the darkness. I lit a candle and watched the fire as it burned fiercely enough to brighten up my small bedroom. I sighed with relief. I had become accustomed to the frequent power outages and naturally developed a routine: showering before four o’clock. The electricians never turned the power off before then. I heard the screech of broken brakes outside of my window. Mom was home. She parked her twelve-year old Expedition in front of our apartment. I glared outside toward the raggedy truck, with its involuntary hydraulics and awkward lean. Mom opened the apartment door with a sigh of familiarity and set a bag down. “Dinner’s on the kitchen table”, she grumbled as she

Arlo stood on the side of the street walk staring. An object in the window had caught his wandering gaze. It 's sheen of gold, caused him to stand with his eyes transfixed upon the shops outside window.