Saturday, November 10, 2012

Fun Writing Prompt

500 or more words
My words: 1,213
My alarm clock buzzed.

Friday is finally here. A year secrecy, of midnight conversations lasting till' dawn, of hidden away kisses, had passed. Father didn't know. The boy was of another color and another time where as my Father still lived in the past. We were to tell him today, together. I can't wait.

I roll out of bed, with my messy brown hair curling wildly around my sun-kissed face. The summer had left me tanner with all the outdoor activities I participated in to pass the time. Now, since school had started a few weeks ago, I was confident enough to not cover my face with makeup. I trudged my way into my bathroom. My eyes drooped from the previous night’s events. I had stayed up to count the hours until Friday came. Now it was here.

The light switch flipped on. I groaned and hurriedly covered my face from the burning rays. Too... bright. The radio from my Father’s room was playing on the same old station it was always on. I think I could hear the guitar rhythm of a Beatle’s song. Odds are he was awake in his chair, drinking his morning cup of coffee. I cleaned up my face, brushed my teeth and hair. Taking the eyeliner pencil, I slowly traced a black line across the lid of my eye, and then repeated the step on the other eye, before finishing it off with a coat of mascara to my already long eyelashes.

I was awake now. My movements were quicker than when I first got up. I rummaged through my closet of overstuffed clothes until I came across the pink, thin strapped and knee-length dress. I took off my swimming t-shirt and hooked my strapless bra around my breast. The dress fit perfectly. Today will be perfect.

“You up yet?!” Father yelled from his room.

“Yeah. I’ll be right down,” I said loud and clear, though I didn’t know if he heard me. I grabbed my school books and rushed down our staircase. Father had beaten me down because his Radio was now going off in the kitchen, but this time blaring news.

The smell of crisp bacon and sizzling sunny side up eggs hit my nose. I loved bacon and eggs. I placed my books neatly on the light brown table and started to untwist the twister on the bread and grabbed two slices of the soft white bread.  I dropped them down into the toaster’s caves and turned the knob to 3. That way they wouldn’t be too soft or too burnt.

Father seemed to be happier than usual. A grin, ear to ear, was plastered on his normally passive face.


The two slices popped out, sounding off for me to get them. I reached in and pulled the bread to the plate where I then buttered them. Father sat the eggs and bacon on the table and sat in his chair that was at the head. I brought the plate over with me and sat, as well.

 “Good Mornin’, darlin’. I hope you slept well. You did sleep through the storm,” he said to me, placing his hands together and rubbed them up and down.

Why was he smiling?
                I faked a smile. “I did.” I lied. He wouldn’t be happy if I didn’t sleep at all. He always had this thing about sleeping and having a good night’s rest. Though, I don’t remember hearing a storm. I do remember Father leaving late. He had a truck with an engine that roared like an angry lion.

                He placed two eggs on his plate and a few slices of bacon, leaving the toast for me, but started to eat. His fork scraped loudly against the glass plate.

                The radio was fuzzy and unclear. Then, the local host called out, “URGENT! There has been a murder in our small town of Acrux.”

               I blinked.

                “The body of a young man, or at least what was left of the man, was found in the wood cutter at the lumber yard. Police men are still picking up his pieces. Wait- we just got word of the name. The victim is William Cavier, a junior at Acrux High.”

               I gasped. My fingers clenched at my dress, trying to fight back tears. Everything clicked. Father worked at the Lumber yard… Father was out late… Father was smiling.

                “That negro deserved it. Yah’ know he thought he could get away with raping my Prissy,” father spoke so blankly, so emotionless.

     I stood up. There was barely any space from me and father, so I slapped him across his face. He caught my hand. Overpowering me, Father merely tossed me to the ground. My back smacked loudly against the wood cabinets. Will’s blood was on my father’s brown work boots. How could he have done this to me?

    Father snatched a knife with a newly sharpened blade. He came closer and closer to me. His hand yanked my brown locks tightly, pulling my body up so I was kneeling. The cold blade pressed against my throat.

  “Do it. Kill me. I’ll die and be with him,” I glared up at him.

    He cackled, though he ended up coughing and doubling over to catch his breath. “It was fun taking that negro’s life. I couldn’t bear to think of that cock in my baby girl. Besides, when I figured out that you were doing the devil’s work, I had to purify you, which meant get rid of the worshiper.”
     I was baffled. This wasn’t the old grouch I was used to. He was happy about killing a man. The guilt didn’t bother him one bit.

    The blade cut into my skin. The first few drops of blood sprang up and dripped down my neck. I gulped. He pulled the blade away. I crawled quickly away from him in the direction of the garage.

   His footsteps were heavy as he got closer to me. I stood, running to the garage door. I jiggled the handle. It didn’t budge. I banged the door. It opened. The axe was on the shelf. I knew by the metal gleaming from the lights. Father was only a few feet away. His knife swung through the air. A lock of hair fell to the ground in a heap. I bounded down the cold stairs, leaping to reach the axe. My fingers gripped the plastic handle as I lifted it off the rack. The axe was heavier than I ever expected.

 “You were supposed to protect me, but you killed the boy that made me happiest. That’s not protecting me,” I turned around with tears in my eyes. I lashed out with the axe. He was close enough for it to knick him once, then twice..

   Blood splattered across my face, tie dying my dress with red splotches. Flesh fell to the ground. I continued to hack at my father and cried. His body fell to the ground with a thud.

    I dragged the bloody axe across the garage floor and back into the house. A blood trail followed me.

    I crashed down to the floor in the blood mixed of mine and my father’s. The last thing I saw was Will picking me up into his broad arms.

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Saturday, November 3, 2012

The Imaginarium NANWRIMO Shop

Hey! I'm a first year writer for the NANWRIMO. I absolutely love doing graphics for people. On most all forums I'm on, I usually have a shop open. I guess it's kind of obvious I'd open one here. All I ask is you follow my little set of rules and follow the order form. This is based off of my Graphic site.

Patience: I am in school. At times it might take me a while to complete orders. I will complete them, I promise. Just be patient and let me go at my own flow.

Trolling: Please do not troll or send in false orders.

Bashing/Rude: Don't be rude or bash me and my artwork.

Stealing: Don't steal anything I make. I do watermark all of my edits. If you want one, all you have to do is ask.

Descriptive: When one makes a order, please hit all possible details. I can't do vagueness. You might hate the art if you don't.

Crediting: Please CREDIT me in some way.

Magic Word: At the bottom of each form you'll need to put in Riddikulus where it says Magic Word. This lets me know you read the rules.




What type of Avi?(Regular, Popout, Transparent):
A Link to the Picture(s) you want:
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Magic Word:


What type of Siggie?(Regular, Popout, Transparent):
A Link to the Picture(s) you want:
Location of where you want the picture:
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A week Overdue

It's been about a week since I last posted and I'm like so sorry. Nanowrimo started a few days ago and plus I've been working on my MC Chronicle article. I should be finished with the article by Monday. On my novel, Blood Revenge, I finished my cover. I wish it was a real person on it, but oh well. I've reached 2,746 words as of right now. My goal is 50k. I have a far ways to go.

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Excerpt from Chapter 1

Chapter 1
There was a Raven in my dream again. I can’t tell anymore if it’s the same Raven, or a different one. It’s been there though. It’s like it is watching me. Why? I wish I knew. All it does is sit perched on a tree branch, fly over the black skies, or just watching me with those beady black eyes. Does it have something to tell me? Is it a bad omen? I’ve never had a dream that reoccurs like these past few ones. That Raven, he really freaks me out. I’m starting to get this feeling that it’s watching me. I see shadows, winged shadows, gliding across the added mauve wallpaper of the hallways. Ramona told me it’s probably just my imagination. She always knows. Sometimes, it scares me how much she actually knows.
It’s a mother thing. “I got those 2 eyes in da back of my grey hairs, little Bonita,” Ramona reminds me constantly. I can never get away with anything. Sneaking out? She’s always at the door. Bad test grade? She has it taped to the fridge before I even go home. I hate it. Then, sometimes, I like it. She’s always there when I need a shoulder to cry on, or having problems with work.
My kind, we’re very few after the Black Death. Humans call it the Bubonic Plague. Ramona believes that it was sent by the Holy God to rid the earth of all his “demons” that had been created. I don’t see why he would want to destroy us. We were once his prized children, perfect in all ways fit. We glowed when men couldn’t even master fire. We just… had issues with staying pure, so we fell. I don’t remember much of it all, nor the reason I fell. I remember that my sister, Aria, was slayed by his plague. My brother and I, however, were unaffected up until the last few months. Word came of my sister’s death. It snapped the already rickety bridge I shared with Deimos. After that, I must have fallen ill of depression, or of the Black Death, because I remember waking up to the sound of a bustling city on the rise, 548 years later. All the knowledge I should have retained, all the memories I should remember, were gone.

*Keep On Dreaming*

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