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Old February 16th, 2018, 05:05 PM
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Liekki Liekki is offline
Ruining dreams since 2004
 
Join Date: Oct 2017
Gender: They/Them, She/Her
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Default My Writing (Over 3 Years)

My writing style and technique has actually changed quite a bit in the past few years. I wrote Young Authors for all three of my middle school years, and so here I will share my stories and show you all how my writing has drastically changed. (They all get darker as the time gets sooner to today...)

Yeah, this one is really... cheesy and kinda weird. I wrote this 2 years ago. It's about a young girl who is a dragon hunter. In this case dragons are "The most beautiful person you can think of and multiply that by 100, add power of persuasion, speed and invisibility, subtract acting human and with that equation makes up about 1/10 of a dragon." Yeah, cheesy and frankly, pretty bad.
 
I slumped up against the brick wall. I was searching for a dragon, but all of the clues just disappeared.The blasted thing had been kidnapping people. I stood back up. It was a hot summer day in 2026 and the kidnappings were getting worse. No one knew it was a dragon because most people don’t know what it really is, even though they have been with us all along. The dragon who was causing so much trouble was just like you and me, except she wasn’t. She was too beautiful to be entirely human, and she had eyes where the pupil was just a small slit. She had a certain talent that could influence anyone, except me. I needed to take her out before everyone in Chicago was gone. After that she would take the other large cities, then the small ones. She would eventually, probably switch dimensions. She is called Azure.
Then I saw her, she was walking quickly, wearing her sunglasses and taking quick glances behind her. Our eyes connected and I stood still, sweating and hoping she wouldn’t kill me. She turned back around and continued on her way. Of course, Azure wouldn’t risk killing me in front of all these people. She wanted me to follow her, and I did. I needed to capture her. I was sprinting through the crowds, everyone staring at me, I pounced on Azure, she hissed. People were taking out their iPhone 23s, some called 911 as I took out the vaporizer.
“Fate,” Azure said. I frowned at her, as the police came up and shoved me into their car,
“Wait, you don’t get it, she is kidnapping everyone, it’s her!” I said in vain. They didn’t listen. I missed the good old days when they actually listened to you and gave you a trial. Now there were too many crimes to do that, and so many of them done by kids, they quit the idea of juvie all together. So I was going to prison.
I stared at myself in the dirty mirror above the old dirty sink. I did look like a juvenile delinquent. My dark brown hair was cut to chin length in a bob, but it was all splayed out and covered in dirt. My eyes, once a beautiful green-blue, were now grey. The worst part, I was a girl. If I was a guy, more people would trust me, I wish I could be stronger and taller. Right now I’m of average height and skimpy. I guess that makes me faster. The only reason I was able to tackle Azure is because dragons are extremely light. The one question you probably wanted me to answer is if dragons can fly. Well, no, they can’t. They don’t have wings. Imagine this: The most beautiful person you can think of and multiply that by 100, add power of persuasion, speed and invisibility, subtract acting human and with that equation makes up about 1/10 of a dragon. Let's see, how to escape? I sighed, wishing I had a mom or dad. The thing is, I was born out of a tree, no really, The tree just split open, and there I was, toddler Paige, waddling out of a tree. How do I know this? I remember. I have remembered everything, and I still do. Everyone in the city says that I'm crazy and I'm an orphan. I sighed, no one believes me anymore. I wiggled the bar on my window, no luck, I eyed the space under the bunk. I moved the bed out of the way, and felt the floor creak, I put my ear on the ground and knocked, it was hollow. A trap door? I pushed down on the door, and it fell in. I braced my arms and legs on the inside of the pit and slowly climbed down. Hmm, no ladder. I let go and let myself fall, luckily the ground wasn’t too far away.
When my feet hit the ground, I looked around, I saw two paths, one light, one dark,
Light path here I come. The reason it was light was because flashlight lay littered on the ground. I guess the people who used to be in here didn’t think to come back and put lights in. I wondered how the flashlights hadn’t gone out yet. I looked closer, they weren’t flashlights, what were they? I picked one up, it was a blue glowing light trapped inside the flashlight. I broke it open. It flew out, it looked like one of those wisps. It flew down the tunnel, I followed it. I was too shocked to think better of it.They say if you follow it, it will change your fate. My fate pretty much sucked right now, so it couldn’t hurt to have it changed. I sprinted down the tunnel. The wisp thing stopped, so I did too. The wisp disappeared.
“Hello?” I called. I saw an old woman floating towards me. I backed up, floating old ladies is not something you see everyday, if you know what I mean. She said in a flat emotionless voice ,
“Beyond this place of horror and tears
Looms but the Shade,
And yet the struggle of the dragon Finds,
and shall find, you unafraid.”
I looked down, struggling to find something to say, but when I looked up and had something to say, she was gone. I frowned, what she had said had not been in English, but somehow I translated it. What she said was more like,
“Zaidi eneo hili la kitisho na machozi, Looms lakini Kivuli, Na bado mapambano ya joka hupata, na mtaona, wewe siogopi.”
It dawned on me. When Azure spoke, it was similar to that, it must be in dragon tongue. But how could I understand dragon tongue, if I’m not a dragon? I felt something stir in my chest. I let it loose, and swirling lights flew around me. I looked in the flashlight that had held the wisp. It had a reflection. Want to know what I looked like? A dragon. I used the power of speed to go to the Willis Tower. I giggled, it was so fun! At the base of the Willis tower was a Shade. It was a dark, thin smoke blob, it laughed maliciously. It took a seven year old boy and sucked it into its smoky stomach.
“You’ll be sorry that you did that.” I mumbled. I felt a buzzing in my hand. I looked down at it. In it was a sword with lightning crackling around it.
“Oh yeah, I can work with this,” I said as I swung the sword near the shade. It was perfectly balanced, but I still missed. I tried again, and missed again. He laughed,
“Paige, you cannot beat me, even with your powers, a Shade is always more powerful than a dragon. To be honest, I was afraid of you, but some dragon princess you turned out to be.”
“What did you call me?” I said indignantly. I may be a dragon, but a dragon princess, I refuse. I swung the sword, and this time it cut part of him, but not enough to kill him.
“You try to be good, but because you are a dragon, that is impossible. A dragon’s thirst for power is too much. Soon you will be capturing humans and sucking their intellect.”
“You're wrong, I’d never do that! All of my life, I have been protecting Earth from dragons. I was always part of the solution! I can’t be part of the problem.”
I was tired of him, I swung my sword a final time and the Shade vaporized, spitting out the little boy, who at this point was crying. The sword in my hand evaporated. Out of instinct, I put my hand on the boy’s forehead. All of the pain and fear in his eyes was replaced with confusion.
“Where am I?” He asked. I told him that he lost his mom in the crowd, and someone accidentally kicked him and he fell unconscious. The pain and fear now in his eyes wasn’t the same, it wasn’t a fear of death. I used my speed to run away as I saw the boy’s mother come out of the crowd and snatched him up. I followed the pull in my gut to Azure. She was standing at the base of Mount Rushmore.
“Look who finally showed up. Oh, you're a dragon too? That’ll just make this battle more fun.” Azure said with contempt.
“It doesn’t have to be a battle. Look at all these innocent people, they will be hurt. If you just give yourself up, it will be easier, and less painful!”
“Never!”Azure snarled.
“Okay then. Your mistake.” I raised my hand, and in it appeared my sword, With my other hand, I pulled out the vaporizer and pointed it at her. Azure raised her hands, and in them swirled fire. I dropped and the vaporizer. I held my hands, and in them appeared mini tornados, one air, and one water.
“Show off.”Azure mocked. We pushed our elements together, and it created an explosion. It pushed Azure back, but I stood in my spot. We tried again, same result. I was getting cocky. My biggest flaw. This time I used half of the power I did before, trying to show off, but this time I flew back and landed painfully. The vaporizer and my sword were near me I army crawled to them and picked them up, all the while Azure shooting fireballs at me. Up on the bridge, people were filming this with their phones. I held up my sword and stabbed at Azure. She now had a sword in her hand, and it was named Jeff.
I’m kidding. I thrust, She blocked. Frustration corsed through me, she was a good swordsman. I dropped my sword and picked up the vaporizer. Instead of using it, I switched it out for another tool. It was forbidden for use, but I needed it. I pointed it at her, shot it, and then at me, and shot. When I woke up from my unconsciousness, I looked over at Azure. Yup, there she was, human again. That tool that I used sucked the dragon out of us. After that, I taught Azure how to live without powers. Sure, I lost my powers too, but when I really need to use it, the power is still there for me. Though I may be human now, the dragon is always within me.



This one is a bit more mature, and is realistic fiction. It focuses on the life of a teenage girl with schizophrenia, a severe mental disorder that causes hallucinations. She has to deal with everyday situations, but her mental illness gets in the way of doing normal, everday things. Ever since her mother died, her father had become abusive physically and emotionally, and neglected her.
 
Prologue:
I was five. I was riding on a plastic pony named “Sandy” at Walmart. My mom was standing beside me. She had curly, dark brown hair and bright green eyes. She looked like me, except my hair was mostly straight. I kicked my heels into the sides of the plastic pony. “Hicha! Giddy up!” As I looked around, the scenery changed. I was in the Wild West, cacti and sand surrounded me. I was on a mission. I needed to herd the cattle. I whipped my lasso around and captured a bull. A hand landed on my shoulder, and the scenery returned to my actual surroundings: Walmart.
"Dawn, what are you doing?" My mom laughed at my play. I blinked at her. "I was catching the cattle," I stated. My mom laughed again. I continued to stare at her as I cocked my head to the side.
“Why, that sounds quite enjoyable,” She giggled, as her green eyes sparkled in the light. I smiled at her happy face. I felt a rising bubble in my chest, and it burst. I fell off the horse and got back up. I squealed and ran around and around “Sandy”. It was the first time my emotions got out of control. A couple weeks later, I was watching Little Einsteins, when the floor suddenly turned to lava. I screamed, and my mom came running in.
"Dawn! What's wrong?" She stood on a lava rock.
"Mommy! Watch out! The rock is gonna fall any minute now!" I screamed and tried to get her to run over to me.
"What rock?!" She yelled.
"The rock you're standing on! Jump over here!" I cried as the rock started to crack. "Mommy!" The lava disappeared. "The lava is gone! How did it go, it was so hot, and, and scary!" I continued sobbing and I crawled under the couch to hide so that my emotions could run wild. I saw a hand that pulled up the flap covering the bottom of the couch. I saw my mom’s rosy face. Worry filled it. The worry put a line in her forehead. I stopped crying and frowned. I put my hand on the line, and my mom’s eyebrows relaxed. The line went away. A few days later, I overheard my mom talking to my dad. I was standing in the doorway.
"And she said she saw lava on the floor, and that I was standing on a rock, and then she went into hysterics, crying," my mom said worriedly as she took a sip of her coffee.
"Maybe you should have the doctors check it out, but don’t worry too much, Ella. She is a kid, after all," my dad said.
"Maybe," The concern etched on my mother’s face gave me a pit in my stomach. I walked into the room.
“Daddy, is there something wrong with me?” I asked, a tear falling down my face.
“No, honey. We want to see why you see different things than we do,” my dad assured me. That day, my mom brought me to the doctor’s office, where they then diagnosed me with schizophrenia. My mom told me it meant I would see things that weren't actually there. I became reclusive and mostly hid in my room, and at school I sat in a corner. Sometimes my emotions got extreme, or different from others. They would change quickly and made me feel sad, or crazy, or mad, or anything. I developed a constant buzzing sound that filled my head. It was hard to concentrate. I would have trouble falling asleep, or I would feel sleepy for the whole day. I hated it. I heard my mom talk to my dad about something called bipolar depression. The name made me think of a polar bear, and I went growling and eating and sleeping like a polar bear for weeks. I couldn’t stop it, I was a polar bear. I was a polar bear. As soon as I was a little girl again, my mom died in a work fire and my visions got worse.

Nine Years Later
“Bye, Father!” I shouted from the doorway. I stepped out into the sunny, hot day. It was the first day of my freshman year of high school. I opened the garage and grabbed my bike. As I pedaled, I let my mind wander. It was a dangerous thing to do with schizophrenia. Usually, when I daydreamed, hallucinations came. But for now, I should be fine. A faint buzzing filled my ears. It has been like that for nine or ten years. Over time it got quieter, but never fully faded. I took a left turn. I was in the wealthy neighborhood. I wasn’t sure why I said bye to my father before I left. He was upstairs, most likely drunk. Ever since Mom died, my father changed. He drank, smoked, and never paid attention to me. When I was young, he always made time for me. I lost my balance on my bike and fell. I shrieked and rolled to break my fall. I inspected my shaking hands. They were scratched up and grains of gravel were stuck in them. My knees were the same way. I got up and brushed myself off. I picked up my bike, got back on, and tried to keep myself busy, but it was already too late.
A black car that was driving slowly pulled up behind me and a man in dark sunglasses walked up to me. “You’re coming with me,” he said.
I screamed and ran. My feet pounded the road, and sweat ran down my face. I cried as I ran, knowing no one would notice I was gone if I got kidnapped. I leaned forward and tumbled onto the street. I could feel blood streaming down my face and arms. I slowly wobbled up and when I looked around, I was in an unrecognizable place. I limped to the sidewalk and sat down. I looked around, but saw no one. I curled up into a tiny ball. The problem with my hallucinations was that they twisted my mind into thinking what I was seeing was real. I should have been taking medicine to keep the hallucinations and depression at bay, but my father was too busy gambling and getting drunk to care. I sat still on the ground, with nowhere to go. I imagined that, I didn’t come home at all, and that my father cared. I imagined him calling the cops, and they found me dead on the ground, and maybe for once, he cared about me. I sigh. A red sports car pulled up to me. I stumbled forward, but winded up falling again. A teenage boy stepped out and walked over. He bent down. I scrambled away from him but he put his arms around me and lifted me up. I gave in to my weakness and leaned heavily on his shoulder. He lead me into his car. I went limp. No way was I was getting kidnapped this easily. Or it could all have been a hallucination. He struggled to keep me upright.
“No,” I mumbled.
“It’s okay, you need help. Let me help you,” He said, laying me down in the backseat of the car. He got into the passenger side.
“Gabe, you better not be kidnapping someone, Mom would kill us,” The older boy said from the driver’s seat. The teenage boy, Gabe, turned around to face me.
“Are you okay?” Gabe asked. I grunted.
“Where were you headed?” He asked.
“School,” I said.
“Kamiah Middle School?” He asked.
“Clearwater Valley,” I said. I wasn’t very tall, but I was no middle schooler. Gabe faced forward and buckled up. The car lurched forward. I bit my tongue, holding in a groan of pain. When we arrived at school, Gabe took paper towels and wiped the blood and dirt off me. He escorted me to my first class, which we shared. We were ten minutes late. Gabe helped me into an empty seat and sat across the room in the only other open one.
“So nice of you to join us,” The teacher said dryly.
Gabe smiled, “The pleasure is all mine, Mrs. Scencin.”
“You two must be Gabe Adams and Dawn Ayers,” Mrs. Scencin said. I nodded, and Gabe winked. He sure seemed a lot different in school than when I met him. Throughout the day, Gabe escorted me to all my classes, and it didn’t seem to faze him that he was late to every one of his own classes. One of the other two classes I shared with him was gym class. The gym teacher screamed instructions at us. With every sentence, spit flew out of his mouth, and I flinched. Apparently in high school, you didn’t get breaks on the first day. The gym teacher shepherded us outside, into the blistering heat. We had to run three miles without stopping. After one mile, I felt like collapsing, and then I saw a dog jump over a fence and sprint over to me. It was foaming at the mouth. I screamed and ran away from it, but it caught up quickly. I screamed while everyone was staring at me. Couldn’t they see I was about to be bitten by a rabid dog? The dog jumped. I let out a blood-curdling shriek and fell to the ground, but the dog went through me and dissipated. I looked around me. Everyone was staring at me, a few were laughing, and many were whispering to each other. Gabe went up to the gym teacher and whispered something in his ear. The teacher nodded. Gabe jogged up to me and put his arm around my shoulders. He led me back into the school. I cried.
“What- what happened?” Gabe asked as we walked through the halls. I explained to him about my schizophrenia, and the realistic hallucinations I had. When I arrived at the nurse's office, she asked for my parents’ number to call them. Instead, I told her that both my parents were on a business trip for two days and couldn’t be bothered. I sat in the nurse’s office for the rest of the day. I heard the bell ring, and I escaped from the office to my locker and packed up my belongings. I stepped outside. I lost my bike, so I had no other way to get home than to walk. Gabe was trying out for the football team, so I had to go alone.
After an hour, I arrived at home, threw my door open and slammed it shut. I threw my backpack against the wall. My father was on the couch, shouting at the television, with a beer in his hand. The things that football does to people. As soon as the door shut, he turned to look at me.
“You interrupted the game you—” He was interrupted by a loud crash in the kitchen. “Go see what the—” I didn’t hear the rest of what he said because I was already in the kitchen. Racoons were running around in the open fridge. Broken glass littered the ground from beer bottles. I couldn’t tell who broke the bottles— my father or the racoons. I grabbed the broom, and shooed the racoons out the open window. Once all of them had gone, I shut the window and cleaned up the kitchen. Afterwards, I ran upstairs and laid on my bed. I closed my eyes and fell into a fitful sleep.
I set my alarm to go off an hour and a half early to make up for my new walking commute. I packed everything up and skipped breakfast. I wasn’t hungry. I arrived at school and Gabe walked over to me.
“What’s up, Dawn?” He asked. He had a different swagger at school. I think he was popular, or crazy. I shrugged. I went to first period, and we got assigned seats. Coincidentally, I was seated next to Gabe, but on my other side was a talkative girl.
“Hey, what’s your name? My name is Rebecca, but everyone calls me Bubbles. If I annoy you let me know, because sometimes I start talking and don’t know when to stop, or how or I don’t realize I’m even talking, and- oh- sorry,” She giggled and went back to doing her work. I scooted my desk away from her and began writing. I dropped my pencil and went under the desk to get it Suddenly, a bell went off. I stood up. It was the fire alarm. Mrs. Scencin stood up and told everyone to calmly walk out. Mrs. Scencin took a final scan of the room and was satisfied. I screamed. A section of the carpet, two feet away from me, lit on fire. I scrambled away from it. Everyone else was out the now closed door. They forgot me! I would burn to death like my mother. All around me was fire. The only open path was to the window. I scrambled over to the window. The fire was slowly creeping closer. I opened the window and looked down. I was two stories up. I had to jump. I stood on the window sill. As the fire leaped, so did I. I screamed and I felt a sharp pain in my skull, and everything went black.
When I opened my eyes, the overly bright lights glared in my eyes and the room seemed to spin. I was in a hospital room. I tried to sit up, but my head felt like it got run over by a herd of cows. I turned my head to the left and saw someone’s head next to my pillow. I squinted my eyes and saw that the head belonged to Gabe. He was sitting in the chair but fell asleep with his head on my bed.
“Gabe,” I whispered hoarsely. He lifted his head. He had dark circles under his eyes.
“Dawn, you’re awake,” he said in a disoriented voice. What was Gabe doing here, and more importantly, what was I doing here?
“Gabe, what happened, all I remember is a fire and a window…” I said as I looked back into my mind.
“I’m not sure, we had a fire drill, and I heard a scream and ran over, and you were lying there with blood pooling around your head,” Gabe said. His voice trembled on the last words. “I told the doctors about your schizophrenia, so they gave you a pill. I have the rest of the medicine.” He paused and fiddled with the bottle in his hands. “I told them about your dad, I had no choice. I’m sorry,” he said, biting his lip. I shook my head.
A few weeks later, I got discharged from the hospital with stitches in my head and arm, along with a moderate concussion, but no lasting effects. I threw my front door open and ran into the living room, empty. I stepped up the stairs and walked into my father’s bedroom. He was sitting on the bed watching football on a television I didn’t recognize and drinking a brown bottle of beer, as usual.
“Father, I’m home,” I said meekly. He paid no attention to me. “Father.” Nothing. “Leo!” I shouted. I was sick and tired of being ignored. I picked up a pillow and threw it at him. He brought his arm back and threw the beer bottle at me. I flinched as it hit my face and shattered. I felt blood drip down my forehead. I walked out and slammed the door. We were already in debt. We couldn’t afford another TV! I walked into the living room and saw the old TV screen broken, with a shattered beer bottle underneath it. I screamed under my breath. I was done. I was done with him ignoring me. I was done with him getting drunk all the time. I was done with him not caring. I was done with him throwing stuff at me. I couldn’t take it anymore. The buzzing in my head got so loud, it drowned out everything else. I covered my ears until it died down. Tears were streaming down my face, but I wiped them away with the back of my shirt sleeve. I picked up the phone and called Gabe for help. The next day at school, I was called down to the office. The counselor was waiting for me.
“Dawn, I’m very sorry, but your dad has been arrested,” the counselor said, her face the perfect portrait of sympathy. I nodded, and the buzzing in my ears pulsed and returned, but quieter.
“For the time being, until we can find you a new home, Gabe Adams’s family has offered to care for you. Your time there is expected to be two months.”
That day, I went home with Gabe. “So, we’re going to be like siblings, for a few months.” I nodded. He opened the door. I entered his house and met his family. Gabe’s older sister, Marina, was missing the bottom portion of her arm. Gabe later told me that she lost it in a shark attack. I then remembered that she was on the news protesting against shark poaching, she had put thousands of trackers on sharks to study their movements. She was pretty famous in this town. Gabe’s mother was warm and welcoming and his father was nice, if a bit strict.
Three months later, I moved in with my aunt, whom I had never met. It was different, being cared for. Sometimes I got annoyed with having a bedtime and a curfew, but I didn’t mind after a while. I became best friends with Marina, and when I grew up, married Gabe. It was a small wedding, with only family, except Leo, who just got out of prison and was in rehab. I finally grew up happy and started a family, having a daughter of my own. I would always be there for her. I would never leave her. My schizophrenia was controlled by medicine for a few years until it finally went away. I still had to take medicine for my bipolar depression though. Eventually, Leo died; the funeral was short, and no tears were shed. I thought I would at least feel sorry for him, but I just couldn’t. He had plenty of chances to change. I promised that I would be better than Leo would have ever been, and I was happy to have been so lucky to feel joy and love of having a family.


And then there's this one. It's incredibly dark and is again, realistic fiction. It focuses on the life of a teen who leads a normal life, up until the suicide of her best friend. It is found out that the best friend was abused by her parents and that the parents were a main factor in the suicide. It shows how connected the two friends were, and the teen girl struggles to cope with her friends unexpexted death.
 
I rushed down the hall of the school, looking for Heather’s flaming red hair in the crowd of rushing people. My eyes darted to the faces of the people in the crowd, searching each one for Heather’s familiar amber eyes and smooth skin. I pushed past a crowd of people and saw Heather standing outside of the gym door.
“C’mon, Olivia! We’re going to be late if you don’t hurry,” Heather said simply and slipped through the big blue door. My feet slid slightly on the smooth floor of the room and looked at Heather as I walked. I was sometimes jealous of her, but it was only because I was always comparing myself to her. Heather’s perfect eyelashes, small nose, and her amber eyes could be admired from a mile away, but I didn’t tell her that. After all, she hates jealousy, and who am I to make her angry? The gym teacher blew her whistle loudly, signaling us to line up.
“Today we’re going to be doing something a bit different from our normal warm-ups. Instead of exercises, you’re going to do laps. Ten of ‘em! Go, go, go!” She shouted, and the class begrudgingly began to jog around the gym. Our class was never the most motivated, but Heather was always full of energy. She turned her eyes to me and grabbed my arm lightly, tugging me forward and forcing me into a faster pace. I only grunted, already out of breath. She skipped along, her curls bouncing as I attempted to keep up with her.
“You got to have more energy, Olivia! Come on, before you get fat and old,” Heather joked, once again pulling me forward. I whined but she silenced me with a look. I rolled my eyes and kept going, and Heather’s eyes stayed ahead of her. We were quiet, listening to the various conversations float around us.
A sweaty sheen covered my face as we gathered around the instructor for further instructions. The teacher informed us that we would be working on our flexibility today, and so the class dispersed to various points in the room. Heather and I settled into a corner and began reaching for our toes, Heather going past and grabbing her heels. I turned to her and said, “Why are you so quiet all of a sudden?”
“I dunno, tired I guess,” Heather replied and smiled. My eyes traveled to her calf, where a dark bruise stained her pale skin. I frowned, but said nothing. I knew I got bruises all the time, I was quite clumsy and knew that stuff like that happened. We got up off the ground and silently moved to the next fitness station.
“So, how’s the homework load? I know I’ve been busy all week what with basketball, piano, and the science fair,” Heather asked, her voice once again chipper.
I groaned and answered, “I’ve been super busy and the only extra thing I was doing was cello. Man, I don’t know how you handle all of that plus homework.” As Heather reached down to tie her shoe, I spotted another dark blotch on her collarbone. I reached out to touch it, but Heather grabbed my hand before I could.
We stared for a long time before I whispered, “Heather. You’ve been acting funny all week and I just… What’s going on, Heather? Please tell me, we’re best friends. You can’t hide anything from me.” I continued, “I can’t help you if you don’t tell me. What’s going on? You have these giant bruises and you’re acting funny, always changing the subject when I talk about your family.”
“My parents just get a little mad sometimes, Olivia. It’s nothing to worry about, honestly. Would I lie to you?” Heather finished quietly.
“Yes, you would! You have this whole week, telling me nothing was wrong when something was obviously not okay!” I insisted.
She shook her head and pleaded, “just drop it. And please don’t tell anyone, Olivia. I can handle this, okay?” I shook my head, but knew I wouldn’t tell anyone. But the war raging inside of my head remained. If I told someone, I would lose Heather as a friend. Heather’s the only thing that kept me sane, but was it selfish to keep her as a friend and subject her to abuse? I tried not to think about it, and instead focus on my exercise.
After gym class, Heather and I sat down at a blue lunch table, both of our stomachs growling. She had an apologetic smile as she stood back up to get her cafeteria lunch. As I watched her stand in line, I found that she was much more quiet when she wasn’t around me. She stood silently in line, fiddling with the money in her hand and looking straight ahead. My stomach twisted as I thought of Heather’s aversion to my questioning, and I found myself not hungry. I half-heartedly listened to the conversation at my lunch table and pushed around my food.
Heather walked over with her cheeseburger and inquired, “Are you okay, Olivia? You look a little… distant.” I nodded and smiled slightly, but still couldn’t raise my spirits. She picked up a tater tot from her plate and waved it in front of my face, but I didn’t react. She nudges my mouth with it, but I wouldn't eat it. She sighed as I slid my food over to her, but she didn’t move to eat it. I shrugged and pulled my food back to me, beginning to eat my pretzels as quietly as I could, thinking about the promise I had made earlier. I had a bad feeling about it, but tried to not think about it too much. Heather silently leaned over and gave me a side hug and patted me on the head.
“I hate to see you sad, Olivia,” she said in a sing-song voice. I smiled and nodded, but stayed silent. She continued, “I don’t know what I’d do without you. I’m glad we’re friends, aren’t you?”
I looked at her and said, “Of course. I don’t know what I’d do without you, either.” Heather just looked at me with pity in her eyes and continued eating.
All my other classes passed quickly, and before I knew it school had ended and I boarded the bus. I sat in the back and closed my eyes, music blasting from my earbuds. I heaved a sigh as I pulled out my phone, wanting to call Heather, but I knew she was at basketball and I suppress my urge. I listened to the aimless chatter of kids around me and tried to focus on the music I was listening to. It was hard when so much was running through my head that I couldn’t stop thinking about. I had worried about Heather in the past, but never like this. I feared that she wasn’t going to be safe anymore. What if she needed help? I decided to go to the school counselor tomorrow and tell her.
The bus arrived at my street, so I grabbed my backpack and leaped out of the bus. I walked to my house slowly, the bus fumes making my eyes sting as I walked in its path. I opened my door and my mother greeted me from the kitchen. She placed some celery sticks on the table for me as I sat down to do my homework.
“How’s school, Olivia?” she asked kindly. I shrugged as I leaned over my geometry homework. My mom walked to the front door and grabbed her coat saying, “Okay, well. Be good, I have to go to work for my afternoon shift.” I nodded and continued my math homework. After she had closed the door, I grabbed my laptop and opened the search engine and pressed enter after typing “How do I know if someone is being abused?”. I felt nauseous once again as I saw that many of the behavioral symptoms matched Heathers. It doesn’t mean anything, really. I bet she’s just stressed, what with all of the homework and her extracurricular things, I reassured myself, but the thought of Heather hiding things from me still gave me chills. I closed the tab and finished my homework, slowly but surely.
I leaped up stairs and tucked myself into bed. I hesitated before grabbing a stuffed animal from under my bed. It was an elephant that I had gotten when I was a young child, and I had named it Elly. Elly the Elephant was my closest confidant, and I could never bear to throw her away. I hugged her close and squeezed her plush body and rubbed my thumb along her silky ears. “It’s going to be fine, Elly,” I whispered to her. I closed my eyes and drifted into a fitful sleep.
The sun shined through my curtains brightly the next morning, dragging me from my stupor. I groaned and sat up, rubbing my eyes blearily. I tumbled out of my bed and put my clothes on, still half-asleep. I walked downstairs quietly, not wanting to wake my mother who was sleeping on the couch. My father was traveling on a business trip, so it was just us two in the house for a while. I poured some cereal and ate it while looking out of the window. It was a bright spring morning, and the birds chirped brightly. My sorrow from the previous night was long forgotten as I munched happily on my rice cereal.
After packing the rest of my things into my backpack, I ran out to the bus stop and waited for the school bus to arrive. I hummed loudly in the warm air and spun around on the street. I saw the bus round the corner and approach me, so I quickly jumped to the side of the road and stood patiently. I boarded the bus and took my normal seat in the middle. The front of the bus was full of young and immature freshman kids and the back was overflowing with seniors who were too idiotic to earn their driver’s license. I was a sophomore, but I hadn’t turned fifteen in time to try to get my driver’s license. Heather was already sixteen, but her mother wouldn’t let her try to get her license. And that made me wonder what her parents were like, but obviously they weren’t treating her right based on what I had seen. I suddenly remembered my internal promise to tell the school counselor about Heather and groaned internally. I decided to talk to Heather first and make sure she was okay. If she really looked fine, then I wouldn’t go to the counselor.
The bus creaked to a stop in front of the school, and I got off, making sure to send the driver a quick ‘thank you’. I waited outside of the school, ignoring the chattering kids around me. I looked through the crowd for Heather and felt a sense of déjà vu as I searched for her tell-tale red hair. I couldn’t find her, so I pushed through the crowd and entered the school. I pulled a few things from my locker and put them into my backpack and walked to the orchestra room. I pulled out my cello from a rack in the room, where the school stores the school owned cellos. It was convenient that we could use cellos that stayed at the school because they were much too big to carry home, especially with my bus travel.
Suddenly the speaker on the wall crackled, “Olivia Jennison to the office please, Olivia Jennison to the office.” I looked wildly along and my eyes settled on my orchestra teacher who motioned for me to leave. The few students that were in the orchestra room already snickered, no doubt having some idea that I was in big trouble. For a second, I almost thought I was too, but then I realized I had done nothing wrong. I put down my cello and rushed quickly to the office, which was almost across the entire school. I opened the door to the office quietly.
“Uh, I’m Olivia. Jennison. I’m Olivia Jennison,” I said awkwardly. The secretary pointed to the counselor’s office silently, considering she was speaking on the phone with someone. I gulped on seeing the direction she was pointing and noticing her slight glare. I hurried into the office, the feeling of dread inside me growing. I looked at the counselor nervously and sat in one of the uncomfortable chairs. She stared at me for a long time, clicking her long fingernails on the desk. I bit my lip and stared at her, both of us quiet.
Finally, she said, “So. I hear that you were good friends with Heather Aline. Is that true?”
“Were?” I inquired. “I still am friends with her.” I frowned, puzzled as to why the counselor would think they weren’t friends anymore. It suddenly dawned on me, “Is Heather…” I couldn’t bear to finish even speaking my suspicion.
“Miss Jennison, Heather Aline was found dead in her room last night,” the counselor said soothingly. I blinked, not comprehending, and I mulled her words inside my head. I blinked, and suddenly my hand flew to my mouth and I squeezed my eyes shut. Tears began to run out of them, but I could still hardly believe what was said.
“Oh God, Heather. No, no, no. It’s just…” I started, but couldn’t finish. Tears still ran down my face, falling onto the desk like raindrops. I put my head down into my hands and wept, not caring what the counselor thought of me.
The counselor, Ms. Ravenhoff her name was, tried to comfort me, “Shh, it’s okay, Olivia. I just want to figure out why she did what she did.” My head jerked upward. Ms. Ravenhoff had just implied Heather’s death was suicide. I shook my head, not believing that Heather would take her own life.
“What do you mean with that shake of your head? No you won’t tell me?” Ms. Ravenhoff inquired.
I shook my head, “I don’t believe it was suicide. It can’t have been, she was so happy…” I trailed off, thinking of her odd behavior and how quiet she had been lately. “I saw bruises on her and she said something about her parents, so I guess I thought-”
“Thought what, Dear?” Ms. Ravenhoff prodded.
“I don’t know what I thought. But I don’t think it was suicide,” I replied, still numb from the shock of Heather’s death. Ms. Ravenhoff questioned me about Heather, mostly on the subject of her parents. I told her what I knew, but that wasn’t much. She left the office for a minute, leaving me time to grieve. I scrunched myself up into a ball, cursing myself, If I would’ve told someone sooner, this wouldn’t have happened. It’s all my fault, oh God it’s my fault: I killed Heather. I was so afraid of losing Heather as a friend that I ended up killing her. I’m so stupid, I can’t believe- The door to the office slammed shut and I sat up quickly. Ms. Ravenhoff stepped into the room again with something cupped in her hands.
She held her hands out, revealing an origami lotus made with brightly patterned, glossy paper. I grabbed it quickly and examined it closely.
Ms. Ravenhoff interrupted, “Heather told me to give this to you yesterday. She said that she didn’t know when she would see you again…” She sniffled and wiped her eyes, “Sorry. It’s sad for all of us, Olivia. I-I’ll give you a minute.” She closed her eyes and stepped once again out of the room. I silently cried in the chair, seeing warm tears drip into my lap. I wiped my eyes again and whimpered while I looked at the paper lotus. Inside it was inscribed: I’m so sorry.
“It’s okay, Heather. I’m the one who should be sorry, not you. I love you so much Heather, I love you,” I whispered. I shook my head and clutched the lotus desperately, as if it would somehow bring her back. I cradled it gingerly as Ms. Ravenhoff walked in, her mascara smeared. She talked to me a bit more, mainly comforting me and trying not to cry herself. My mother came to pick me up, and when I got home I went straight to bed, stroking the lotus gently. I wouldn’t get out of bed for days, and wouldn’t leave the house for weeks. I kept the little lotus in my nightstand, not letting anyone touch Heather’s origami flower.

Epilogue
I had gotten a full ride college scholarship to NIU. It was a few months after I had moved into the on-campus apartment, and I loved college so far. I was in a rush to make it to my morning classes, so I quickly dropped the paper lotus Heather had given me a long time ago onto the floor hastily. I hadn’t realized, of course, that I had done this so carelessly. I still blamed myself for her death, though now I saw it was irrational. Her parents had been arrested for child abuse, though they couldn’t prove they had prompted their daughter’s suicide. While I was at class, my neighbor, Alicia, noticed that I had left my door hanging open wide. She smiled and shook her head, knowing how messy I was. As a surprise, Alicia began cleaning the mess that was my room. She picked up the garbage and straightened up the entire room. She spotted the wrinkled paper lotus under my bed and grabbed it, throwing the worn paper into the garbage. Satisfied with her work, Alicia took the garbage bag downstairs and put it into the huge trash bin that was emptied weekly. She put a new bag into the can in my room and left a note explaining that she had cleaned up my room and that I had left the door open.
I opened the door, freezing when I saw my clean room. I noticed a pink notepad on my bed that explained what had happened to my room. I smiled at Alicia’s generosity and put the notepad onto a shelf. I crossed the room and opened a drawer on my dresser and frowned when I couldn’t find Heather’s paper lotus. I frantically searched the room, tearing apart the area and leaving it more messy than it had been before. I was in tears by the time I heard a knock on the door. I sniffled and wiped away my tears and opened the door.
“Hey, did you see what I did?” Alicia inquired happily. She saw my worried face and frowned, “what’s wrong, Olivia?”
I licked my lips and replied, “You didn’t happen to throw away a paper lotus, did you?”
“Oh, I saw a crumpled origami flower on the floor. Brightly colored and patterned. I’m sorry, was that important?” she asked fearfully. She was only trying to help, I knew. I took a deep breath,
“No, nothing really important.” I smiled slightly and said, “It just belonged to an old friend of mine, that’s all. But what’s more important now is the friends I have with me right here.” Alicia pulled me into a big hug, and tears slipped down my cheeks unnoticed.


So, what do you think? Certainly, they got darker as they go along, but I think the writing style also matured, not just the subjects. Well, I might post another one of these in a few years... if I'm still here by then, showing how my writing is changing throughout high school. Until next time, friends!
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Old February 16th, 2018, 05:19 PM
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Default Re: My Writing (Over 3 Years)

I'll take critiques also. You know, on the current 8th grade one because trust me, I've critiqued the others on my own quite a bit.
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Old February 17th, 2018, 12:13 PM
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Default Re: My Writing (Over 3 Years)

bump plssssssss
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Old February 18th, 2018, 10:37 AM
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Default Re: My Writing (Over 3 Years)

The last two are scarily dark.
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Old February 18th, 2018, 03:53 PM
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Default Re: My Writing (Over 3 Years)

Quote:
Originally Posted by 2018 Okapi View Post
The last two are scarily dark.
Uhhhh, yeah I know. "Art doesn't come from happiness." ~A bunch of artists online. ;-; Thanks for reading them!
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