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Thursday Night Write

March 11, 2010

Happy Thursday and welcome to this week’s Thursday Night Write!

Prompt is at left, same rules apply; Give yourself no more than 30 minutes to write something (anything!) inspired by this picture. Post no more than 500 words of it for comment and don’t forget to comment at least one other piece if you post yours.

Have funnnn!

54 Comments leave one →
  1. Ayla permalink
    March 13, 2010 10:16 am

    I FINNALY have time to post! *dances around room* ok so im giving myself 15 minutes to brainstorm and 30 minutes to write… I actually took 22 minutes to read and comment on all the above! I’m so proud of myself! 😀

    Ok! Got it- (this time its a poem!)
    I hear the rain.
    Pattering against the concrete.
    I’m standing next to you.

    No, not next, I’m standing with you.
    I feel your warm embrace,
    even though the rain soaks my hair and clothes.

    And I know,
    This will be the last time I ever see you.

    You step away,
    and walk out into the distance,
    over the horizon.

    I fall to my knees,
    and bury my face in my hands.
    You won’t be back, You can’t be back.

    I lay on the cold, hard, wet concrete.
    Wondering if you will ever come back to me.

    • mak...XD permalink
      March 13, 2010 2:44 pm

      this is just beautiful……and somehow, i know what it feels like to feel that way….<3

      • March 13, 2010 4:34 pm

        Wow. Absoulutely beautiful, and filled with so much heart ache and pain. Its short, but every word paints the picture and emotion for whats going on. I love it 🙂

    • March 14, 2010 11:07 pm

      Amazing poem Ayla!!! This made me so sad!!!
      I loved this part: You step away,
      and walk out into the distance,
      over the horizon.

      I fall to my knees,
      and bury my face in my hands.
      You won’t be back, You can’t be back.

      I can imagine it perfectly such a sad mood I love it!!! Tears were in my eyes when I read this, you described the mood of the poem excellently!!!

      Amazing job Ayla I can’t wait to read more of your poems/ stories!!!:):):)

      • Ayla permalink
        March 14, 2010 11:50 pm

        thanks! i actually spent like 5 minutes on this, letting it flow out. i really dont have any expierience with breaking up, since ive never had a boyfriend, but ive seen a LOT of romance movies.

    • March 18, 2010 7:34 pm

      I loved it. It was so beautiful. My favorite part has to be, “No, not next, I’m standing with you.
      I feel your warm embrace, even though the rain soaks my hair and clothes.” Such amazing imagery.

  2. March 13, 2010 12:28 am

    Amazing job Mak!!!
    I love the imagery in this especially: They slammed me into the wall so hard that I heard something crack. I don’t know if it was the window or my skull. It took all of my will power not to scream.
    Even if they are old and pushed deep down into the bottom-less pit that is my heart.
    I can imagine the pain of having your head smashed into a window, that would hurt!!! I think you wrote exactly how someone in pain and in love would feel. Hurt, protection, hope and love.
    I also really liked how the narrator prayed once she was hurt, it reminds me of how when we feel hopeless we begin to pray *or other customs depending on religion* for help and guidance and to help the one’s we love.
    Amazing job Mak can’t wait to read more!!!:):):)

    • mak...XD permalink
      March 13, 2010 2:42 pm

      actually, no…not exactly “people” lol. you just have to wait till next week to find out…thanks for your comments too, rumplrtearskitty…..XD

      • Ayla permalink
        March 15, 2010 10:39 pm

        Not People! *Ponders*

  3. mak...XD permalink
    March 12, 2010 4:24 pm

    They slammed me into the wall so hard that I heard something crack. I don’t know if it was the window or my skull. It took all of my will power not to scream. This war was mine, and mine alone.
    I fell to the floor and began to pray. The words that spilled out of me, at first, were mumbles. But they came from deep inside me. I emptied my soul’s most important need to be safe in the form of words. I knew this was coming. I knew it was going to be tonight. Tonight, I am supposed to die for one person. He is home, safe and asleep.
    Tonight, he was supposed to die. He did not know what was coming. He did not know when it was going to happen. It did not even cross his mind that I would be the one protecting him instead of the other way around. This is how much I love him. To die a slow, painful death. For him. The one I love.
    It was not his fault that I’m dying. It’s mine. I’m too stubborn for my own good and up until daylight today that he told me that I’ll get myself into trouble. I’ve been fighting that gaping hole inside of me that represented the truth of my soon-to-be death. It was hard to keep something like this away from him, especially since he knows me so well. He senses every single emotion I have in me. Even if they are old and pushed deep down into the bottom-less pit that is my heart.
    Here’s a little more of my last piece from last week…..And sorry Michelle, but no, I did not mention who the “they” was in this one… week for sure….XD
    Comments and your guesses as to who you think the “THEY” are….plz…….tnx

    • Ayla permalink
      March 13, 2010 9:49 am

      Loved the first paragraph! I’m guessing that “they” are bad people. XD Oh ya! I bet I’m right! LOL

  4. March 11, 2010 11:19 pm

    This is an excerpt from a screen play I wrote that both depicts a very painful personal journey for a young girl and her determination to get justice for the victims of a genocide.

    The Blood Warriors Rebellion


    MAC (a man in his mid thirties with dark black hair with tints of gray, pale skin, gray eyes, and a strong physique) stares out the window of a small medieval cottage. B.G.-the floor is a matted wood, the beams and poles are a thicker, darker wood, the walls are brick, and the roof is a slightly lighter wood. There are a couple of small couches, a wooden table, and a cozy fireplace on the other side of the room plus a back door. After looking at his reflection and the falling snow, Mac turns around and sees the maiden, AMBERLINE brushing her glossy blonde hair, admiring her red lips, and winking green eyes. Not too far away, her cousin, ANTHONY (who looks similar but with darker blonde hair) is doing similar poses with a hand mirror. He shook his head and turned to see his wife, HOLLY (who has red hair, freckles, and a warm smile) feeding their son, PRESTON, who is six months old. Mac turns towards the door, kneels down, looks to the heavens, and prays.

    Oh, Lord, is the Rebellion
    against the Blood Warriors
    going to work? It seemed like
    a brilliant cause, but now
    our hopes are as bleak as the
    weather! Should we keep on
    with the resistance? Send me
    a sign, Lord; please! Send
    a sign to let me know if we
    should keep on! Please!

    The door opens, letting in the cold wind and a mysterious figure. Everyone stops what they’re doing and prepares to fight or run away. The figure is KASMIRA (a young woman with nettled brunette hair laced with snow, golden brown eyes covered in frozen tears, and tattered clothes). Everyone can sense she is not a threat. Holly puts the baby in his crib and instinctually wraps a blanket around the visitor. Anthony shuts the door while Amberline pours her some freshly made tea. Mac steps toward her to greet her.

    Welcome, weary traveler!

    My name is Kasmira. I believe
    in your cause, but I’ve
    hesitated coming here. I
    didn’t want you to share my
    family’s curse.

    Family curse? What do you mean?

    We weren’t always cursed.
    (takes deep breath)


    ROSALYNN (who looks similar to Kasmira but with lighter hair) sits in the living room sewing with her NURSE (a kind woman in her fifties). She enjoys spending time with her nurse, so she smiles at her. Kasmira narrates.

    My grandmother, Rosalynn, grew
    up with her wealthy merchant
    parents, who were too involved
    with their own affairs to pay
    attention to her. It wasn’t an
    ideal family, but she was content.

    Rosalynn’s parents enter the room, and their grim faces totally changes the mood.

    When she was around sixteen,
    her parents told her they had
    been coerced into giving her
    away in marriage to the fore-
    boding wizard, Garlord.
    Rosalynn argued against the
    idea, but her parents wouldn’t
    be swayed. When Garlord doesn’t
    get his way, those who caused
    his rage feel a terrible wrath.
    They were perfectly willing to
    sacrifice their daughter’s
    happiness to keep Garlord
    appeased. My grandmother was
    stunned. She knew they didn’t
    pay much attention to her, but
    to condemn her like this was
    too much for her to bear. So,
    Rosalynn ran away from that
    place and hid so they couldn’t
    find her.


    After a year of
    hiding, the nurse found Rosalynn.
    She informed her that morning
    when Garlord came to collect his
    bride, her parents fearfully
    informed him that Rosalynn was
    nowhere to be found. Garlord
    was enraged because he needed a
    male heir so he can pass on his
    skills and continue his reign
    of terror, so he put a curse of
    misfortune on all the females
    in my family. That very night,
    a thief found out where they
    hid their fortune, so he snuck
    into the house, slit their
    throats, and made off with the
    gold. Worst of all, Garlord
    still sought Rosalynn as his


    Rosalynn sees a ship that will take her away, but from behind she is confronted by GARLORD (who has long, white hair, a long white beard, cold blue eyes, and velvet purple robes).

    Rosalynn tried to flee the
    country, but Garlord found
    her and forced her to marry him.


    Oh, how horrible that must’ve
    It was horrible.


    Garlord oversees Rosalynn working. B.G.-a fairly big house adorned with a lot of seized treasure.

    He always treated her like a
    disobedient servant and forced
    her to fornicate every night
    until they conceived a child.
    When the baby was born, Rosalynn
    hoped her nightmare would be
    over, but sadly that blessing did
    not come, for she had a girl.
    Garlord was angry, but he agreed
    he’d spare the baby’s life if
    they would continue to try for
    his heir. Rosalynn was grateful
    that her daughter, who she named
    Bernadette, would get to live,
    but she hated the idea of bearing
    the next generation of evil.


    So, for the third time, she ran
    away from home, only this time
    Garlord could never retrieve her.
    She ran into the sea and never
    came out.


    Oh no! What happened to the baby?

    She lived, but not happily.


    BERNADETTE (a thin girl with mousy brown hair, light brown eyes, and very pale skin) cleans the house as Rosalynn did.

    My mother was raised by Garlord,
    who was cruel and abusive to her.
    She spent day and night doing the villain’s bidding. She would be
    beaten if she got it wrong. She
    only got enough food to barely
    survive. Bernadette knew that
    she didn’t have a choice since
    legally she was his property,
    but she longed for a better life.
    One day, when she saw a wedding
    procession go by, it dawned on
    her-if she got married, she
    would belong to another man
    and Garlord couldn’t do a thing
    about it.


    In the merchant village, the center of town is marked with a large tree where the roads met and several shops lining the plaza.
    When she ran errands in town,
    she stole conversations with
    young men, trying to find one
    to marry.

    Out of a shop, DONOVAN (a smart looking man with dark hair, dark brown eyes, and a page’s outfit) enters the plaza and starts chatting with Bernadette.

    Finally, a young page named
    Donovan took interest in her.
    She dropped everything and
    eloped with him.


    When Garlord learned of this
    marriage, he grew angry and
    sought revenge. He found
    Donovan, who fought for his
    life. Somehow, he managed to
    banish Garlord to the Spirit


    So, did he break the curse?

    (shakes head)
    Defeating Garlord was the only
    noble thing that Donovan managed
    to do.


    He became an alcoholic and would
    beat my mother whenever he was
    drunk. I was born in the middle
    of this chaos. He never beat me,
    but he certainly didn’t give a
    damn that I was around. I tried
    to convince my mom that what
    he was doing wasn’t right, but
    she wouldn’t listen. She always
    thought of him as a tragic little
    hero and was alright when sober.
    She made feeble attempts to keep
    him from the mead, but things
    stayed exactly the same. I grew
    up making vain attempts to have
    a normal life, but the curse
    haunted me. Every time I came
    close, some misfortune thwarted
    me. I knew there must be a better
    life, but the curse haunted me.


    Kasmira watches as the Blood Warriors (who dressed like knights but with a white mail with a red symbol on it) march down the road.

    I didn’t think it could get
    worse, but then the Blood
    Warriors formed. I watched them
    hunt down people with traces of
    magical lineage, and I always
    wondered if they would find out
    about my relationship to Garlord.
    I never wanted us to be like
    those poor souls who were
    enslaved, tortured, executed…


    Then one day, while my father
    was at a pub, his drunken
    violence got him into a bar
    fight, and he ended up killing
    a Blood Warrior. King Davidson
    decreed that since he took one
    of their own’s life, he now
    owed them his life. He became
    a Blood Warrior. My mom and
    I went into hiding, much like
    Grandmother did. Recently,
    while I was out gathering fire
    wood, he found my mom and
    turned her in.

    Kasmira begins to weep. Holly gives her a comforting pat on the back. Kasmira talks through her tears.

    I heard about this small group
    of rogues that want to end King
    Davidson’s reign of terror, but
    I was so afraid that my family’s
    curse would ruin things for you.
    But as time goes on, the horrors
    get worse. Tonight, I decided that
    it was worth the risk. At least if
    I die here, I will die like a hero.
    That is, if you’ll let me.

    Mac kneels before her so he can look into her eyes.

    I formed this group because we
    believe not only that we can
    rid the world of a great evil,
    but also because we deserve to
    live a happy life. If you want
    to fight, you have to believe
    you are capable of such an
    existence. Do you think that
    you could?

    Be happy? I read fairy tales
    where the damsel in distress
    finds her prince and lives
    happily ever after. I once
    fancied that I could lead such
    a life, but now I doubt that a
    prince would even talk to me.

    Well, a prince will talk to
    you, technically, since we
    have Prince Orlando as a
    mole. However, I see a brave
    young lady willing to fight
    to for what she believes in.
    You may not believe in your-
    self, but I see a lot of
    potential in you.

    Kasmira feels flattered but can’t think of how to respond. Mac smiles warmly and stands up.

    Welcome to the Rebellion!

    • Ayla permalink
      March 13, 2010 9:47 am

      I love your screenplays Dana! I can never finish them though, because they’re a bit over the limit. I loved how this one kind of had a sense of mystery.

      • March 15, 2010 2:02 pm

        Thanks! I know I go over the limit, but I like to get the whole scene in, so it doesn’t cut off at an odd spot. But I’m glad you enjoy them!

  5. March 11, 2010 10:35 pm

    I love prompts there so much fun!!! So here’s what I could come up with from the picture in 30 minutes, not too good but oh well!!!

    The ground is slick, the pouring rain the sky is midnight black but every few minutes a flash of lightning reveals the people scurrying for a safe dry place.
    This is the last time I will see him.
    I press my body close to him, my throat closing with oncoming tears. So many memories. Of childhood, awkward teen years and now nearly adults, we say goodbye to each other forever.
    Memories flicker past my closed eyes.
    We are four, we are neighbours. I am new and the other boys throw dirt at me, but he steps in front protecting me, shielding me and throws dirt at them and the cowards run away.
    Now we are in grade school, working on a project. Laughing at lame jokes and being naïve and stupid for what would shortly come.
    The awkward years come when we glanced slyly when we thought the other wasn’t looking. The time of cracking voices, pimples and growth spurts. It was the first time I cared what I looked like around him.
    Then finally we dated, we hugged, we kissed, we fought and kissed again. He was my first love.
    I bring my arms around his neck holding him so he won’t leave, his head goes down to my neck and he kisses me there, comforting me.
    I look up to his ocean blue eyes, tears and rain running down my face. I look at his perfect, beautiful face, rain dripping from his cheeks and wonder if he is crying to.
    My first love, my first friend. Together for so long and being separated by college distance.
    I swallow as my throat closes for a second time for the thought that has just entered my head. He was my first love, he is my best friend but I know he was not my true love. And I think he knows that too. I know when he leaves and goes to his college miles away he will meet a girl, perhaps many and I will meet a boy.
    But now I can not think of that, that we are not true loves. Today is for us, today is for him. Though he is not my one true love he will always be more than a friend in my heart.
    I wrap my arms around his neck again allowing myself to cry.
    He looks down at me and smiles weakly, love and despair in his eyes. He leans forward and kisses me, I kiss him back. A warm kiss that says I’ll miss you; you will always be my second half.
    I smile through my tears and hug him close missing him already. Again he bring his head down, nuzzling it to mine and we hug each other in the pouring rain, thinking of each other.

    • mak...XD permalink
      March 12, 2010 4:33 pm

      aww….i’m sorry…i can’t think of anything else to say. i’m a little out there when t comes to cute and sad things like this. and i loved the descriptions to.write on!!!

    • michellezinkbooks permalink*
      March 12, 2010 7:46 pm

      RTK! I love this! It’s sooo sweet but also so real and sad and full of longing.

      I loved the way you worked the flashbacks in, especially;

      We are four, we are neighbours. I am new and the other boys throw dirt at me, but he steps in front protecting me, shielding me and throws dirt at them and the cowards run away.

      Wonderfully done, hon!


      • March 12, 2010 10:13 pm

        Aww! This was so sad and sweet!! Really excellent! 🙂

      • March 13, 2010 12:21 am

        Thanks Mak, Michelle and Meagan!!! I absolutely love the prompt nights!!! You have to boost your creativity to think of something relate to the image!!! It’s difficult but so fun, it’s helping me learn how to write better when I’m short on time!!!:):):)
        I’m really glad you all liked it!!! You have no idea how happy that makes me feel, you’re all so kind thank you so much you have to all keep writing too!!!

    • Ayla permalink
      March 13, 2010 9:45 am

      Ok, first, let me get a tissue, my face is SOAKED with tears. Ok… THAT WAS GREAT!!! I can so imagine all the flashbacks! I LOVE IT!!!!!

      • March 14, 2010 11:03 pm

        Thanks Ayla!!! I’m glad you like it!!! I’m sorry it made you cry, I didn’t mean to make this prompt story make people cry!!! Glad you liked it Ayla thanks for commenting!!!:):):)

  6. Elly permalink
    March 11, 2010 8:59 pm

    “Where are we going, Taiah?” Austen, my best friend, asked from behind me as I turned a corner into the massive parking lot with cars parked everywhere.
    Austen had moved across the country and he told me before he came here that it was only for a week and then he’d be back in California until summer. I hated it, but at least I got to see him for a week, so I really couldn’t complain.
    “To the movies. It’s step one on our to-do list. I haven’t seen you in two years.” I explained, slowing my pace as we neared the front entrance. Austen didn’t question me anymore and we soon had tickets to a random movie of Austen’s choice. We used to see random movies that one chose and wouldn’t tell the other until we were at the movie. It was fun and I missed it.
    Someone’s phone rang and to my surprise, it was Austen’s and he jumped up and jogged out of the theater. I shrugged thinking it was probably his mom or dad calling to check up on him, but when he didn’t come back in, I began to get curious. Checking my watch, I decided a phone call wouldn’t usually take thirty minutes, especially with Austen who made things short and sweet and never liked to talk on phones long. He said something about not liking phones one time, I think.
    I wasn’t the type to snoop in other’s business, but, just this once, I wanted to see what was taking Austen so long. I made my way out of the theatre, through bustling crowds lining up for afternoon showings of some vampire movie when I saw two people outside the mall kissing. To my surprise it was Austen and some redhead who I knew from somewhere.
    Something inside me wanted to scream and push the redhead over, but I willed myself not to and decided to leave. I’d never felt that way about Austen before, anyways, so why should I be jealous?

    • March 11, 2010 10:56 pm

      Awesome story Elly!!! I like how you wrote it in a different style, a girl watching the two people in the rain instead of being the girl with the boy in the rain.
      I love the last line: I’d never felt that way about Austen before, anyways, so why should I be jealous?
      Taiah half realizing, half in denial of sudden feelings for Austen.
      This is a very good story but i would love to see what happened if you continued with this story!!!
      Awesome job Elly!!! Love you story!!!:):):)

    • michellezinkbooks permalink*
      March 12, 2010 7:43 pm

      I like this because it feels like something that could really happen between two teenagers. Nice job setting up a realistic scenario!


    • Ayla permalink
      March 13, 2010 9:42 am

      Awesome! I LOVE how it just has a sense of relaxation at the begining, impatience in the middle, and anger at the end! Well done, Elly!

  7. March 11, 2010 8:12 pm

    um this is the best I could come up with at the moment, I’m on the phone with my friend, and im not a good milti tasker, lol. But I stuck to no more than 30 minutes! :)..

    The rain pounds down
    as I slosh through the grounds
    of the cemetery.
    It feels appropiate on this day,

    As I try to cling to your memory
    The memory of you, my aunt, so sweet, but fleeting.
    Oh, how I wish you could stay.

    I start to cry.
    I cry just as the thunder sounds;
    Ear-shattering loud.

    Oh why.
    Why did you have to go? Why did you have to die??

    On this day, thi sky was supposed to cry,
    I know this for a fact.
    It is appropiate, ’cause we all wish you were back.

    The marshy ground softens my numb feet
    as I run to you.

    I know you understand, I see it in your eyes
    as I fling my arms around you,
    you lead me away.

    • March 11, 2010 10:52 pm

      Oh wow sad and haunting I love it!!! I love your poems Meagan they tug at your heart strings!!!
      My favourite part was: I know you understand, I see it in your eyes
      as I fling my arms around you,
      you lead me away.
      So many mysteries, Did the mourner die? Is she dreaming?
      I really hope you write more poems for Thursday Night Write Meaghan I am a huge fan of them!!!
      Also awesome job with multitasking this poem is awesome!!!

      • March 12, 2010 10:17 pm

        and actually, she didnt die, and shes not dreaming. (I wish) I had something else i wanted to write, but i LOVE doing the prompts, i just cant resist, so i mixed reality with fiction and it turned out like this. Thank you so much, im glad you enjoy ’em 🙂

      • March 13, 2010 12:30 am

        Welcome:):):) I just wanted to say sorry for spelling your name wrong in my comment above!!!

    • michellezinkbooks permalink*
      March 12, 2010 7:40 pm

      You wrote this while you were ON THE PHONE?!

      Sheesh! I couldn’t write this if I spent an hour with my forehead furrowed trying to think of a poetic way to say it. You have quite a gift, hon.


      • March 12, 2010 10:09 pm

        Thank yall soo much RTK and Michelle!!! It means so much to me that yall enjoy it so much!! XD

    • Ayla permalink
      March 13, 2010 9:40 am

      Are you serious? You wrote this on the phone??? The only time that I can write something on the phone is if I’m with my BFF Sierra and we’re discussing lyrics for our band! And even then, two weeks later we throw it at the wall saying its suckish! I absoulutly LOVE your writing Meagan!

  8. March 11, 2010 7:02 pm

    only one line or two that i found related to this picture, but as soon as i had that one line, i expanded. a little over the 300 words, i’m sorry! it’s another love letter, i may have to make a collection of these in a folder sometime. :]


    dear youu,
    i’m taking tonight to write you a love letter,

    but there seems to be no point in even picking up this pen.
    my hands are shaking because i know this is wrong, because i shouldn’t be doing this. my stomach is knotted under my bleached-white rib cage and shivers are running up my cracked spine. my knees have long since given out, and i’m merely jelly, on my floor leaning against the wall.

    we’re on messenger until midnight every day, chatting it up and getting to know each other better then i know anyone else. my wrists are developing early arthritis and we’re going without sleep, creating zombies and unleashing them on the school every morning.

    we’re cybertronic kids fighting the system every chance we get. when i talk to you in person, i’m throwing off all of the layers i’ve covered myself in over the past few years, shedding studly boys and bad breakups like snakeskin.

    but see, i’m the artist and you’re the band boy, would this ever work out? i’m a total nerd and you seem to rule the school. maybe it’s because i feel alive tonight, that the possibility that i can be your girl has crawled into my brain and taken root there.

    i may suffer from a short attention span and mild anorexia, and my hair cannot commit to one genre of music, but i’m counting on you. i’m counting on you to take my hand and lead me through this maze of lies and dreams. try not to get lost, ‘aight?

    i’m on the phone with you now, listening to your nimble fingers dart across those guitar strings. i’m loving every moment of it. we talked for sixty five minutes and thirteen seconds, but who’s really counting? you promise me that you’ll play me some music tomorrow at lunch, clad in black with your guitar as your weapon.

    i’m quite sure you really like me, and i’m quite sure i really like you too.

    will you agree with me that we should kiss no one but each other? because one time i dreamt that this day would come, that we’d be embracing in the rain, feeling it clackclackclack on the asphalt around us.

    do you want that to come true?
    because i do.
    and boy, i think i have a total crush on you.

    • March 11, 2010 7:06 pm

      oops, saw that it was now 500 words, haha. :]
      just goes to show how observant i am.

      • March 11, 2010 8:16 pm

        aw! i totally love this!! Your letters are just amazing!!

      • March 11, 2010 10:18 pm

        thanks meagan!
        i like sticking to letters because i find them easier to do, just personalise them to someone who was either in my life before or is in it now.

    • Elly permalink
      March 11, 2010 9:14 pm

      Amazing! I love it!

    • March 11, 2010 10:48 pm

      I love the letters you write!!! It’s such an interesting writing style!!!
      I really loved these parts: my knees have long since given out, and i’m merely jelly, on my floor leaning against the wall.
      We all feel like this when we are troubled or weakened by something, it’s like we are useless and can’t even manage to pick ourselves up. You portrayed that perfectly in that line.
      I also really liked how you made your character a “mild anorexia” because it relates to teen girls and how we try to fit in, try to look beautiful to other people and how your characters hope that she is seen as beautiful by the band boy.
      Awesome story/letter Alix-wa!!! Please post/ write more letters up here I absolutely love them!!! Amazing job can’t wait to read more!!!:):):)

      • March 12, 2010 6:52 am

        thank you rumple! i find that when i do write these letters, it’s easy to vent, let off steam, or deal with emotions that i’ve just buried. i haven’t posted any negative letters, really, so i might just have to do that sometime. :]
        yus, i did try to capture the essence of teenagers and one of my favourite parts is where: my knees have long since given out.
        i’ve always been skinny, so i’ve had to deal with questions about anorexia and stuff for a while. i wanted to incorporate that into this letter, because even though i like my body, sometimes i wish my hips were slimmer or i had nice legs, etc.
        haha, i’ll try to post more on here, then, rumple, if you love them so much :]

    • Ashley permalink
      March 12, 2010 11:32 am

      Love it! It was amazing!

    • michellezinkbooks permalink*
      March 12, 2010 7:39 pm

      Alix!! I love, love, LOVE your letters.

      They really do feel so TRUE. They make me smile and get a little teary and a lot nostalgic. All of which is such a GIFT, and not easy to do in this format.

      Nicely done, Sweets!


      • March 13, 2010 11:33 am

        thanks michelle :]
        like i’ve said before, a lot of these letters are based on personal experiences and are a little hard for me to write. it’s just good to be able to express my emotions on either paper or word doc.
        i guess i’ll continue writing like this for a bit, but i have been working on other pieces as well.

    • Ayla permalink
      March 13, 2010 9:37 am

      That was great! I loved the first paragraph. I could imagine somebody, tottaly exhausted, scribbling words on a peice of paper.

      • March 13, 2010 11:44 am

        thanks ayla, that was what i was going for!
        i feel like that whenever i know i need to write someone a letter. i never send letters unless its super important or something like this letter here. its hard for me to express my feelings for someone sometimes, so i find that when i write these letters i can get practice for when i have to talk to them in person. :]

  9. March 11, 2010 6:32 pm

    “He’s never coming back, Jenine,” Meliora sobbed, holding her head to Jenine’s chest. “He’s gone and I will never see him again. Why did I not tell him when he was here?”
    “You had no idea how you felt then, Meliora. We all make mistakes, but he knows now and he’s happy. You know he would want you to be happy too, right?” Jenine returned the sobs, holding Meliora close. Meliora let go of Jenine and crumpled the paper she was holding. A letter from Damien’s mother, telling her Damien had been killed in battle and she was sorry Meliora had to find out this way. She threw the paper to the ground and turned slowly to make her way to her room across the large campus. Jenine slowly followed after; neither one spoke. All that could be heard we three sets of footsteps wading through the water. Wait, three? Meliora and Jenine stopped, but continued to hear the steps behind them. At first, they could see nothing through the heavy rain, but in the distance Meliora could see a shadowy figure moving slowly toward them. As the figure came closer, she realized it was a man and he was carrying an army bag. It cannot be, she thought to herself, shaking her head.
    “Do you see that?” she asked Jenine.
    “Y-yeah, I do. Who is-”
    “It’s him!” Meliora yelped. She ran across the rain soaked campus, and without stopping, jumped into Damien’s arms. “I love you,” she whispered, allowing the tears to soak her face with the rain.
    “I love you, Meliora. I am so sorry for leaving you. I will never leave you again. I love you, I love you, I love you.”
    “But, your mother said you were-”
    “I know and they thought I was, but I was mistaken for someone else. But, now, I’m here and none of that matters. All that matters is us. Marry me, Meliora. Marry me and stay with me the rest of your life.”
    “I will, Damien. You know I will.” She reluctantly let go of him and turned to where Jenine still stood, watching the two lovers. “We’re getting married, Jenine!” Meliora yelled.
    “I knew you would,” she yelled back, through the sheets of water. “I’m going to go get dry. Come by my room later.”
    “We will,” they replied.
    Meliora turned back to Damien and kissed him softly, before burying herself in his arms once again, letting the rain wash away the sadness she held only moments before.

    • March 11, 2010 7:04 pm

      i love this, it echoes of a sadness and it made my heart leap to my throat with these lines:
      All that could be heard we three sets of footsteps wading through the water. Wait, three? Meliora and Jenine stopped, but continued to hear the steps behind them. At first, they could see nothing through the heavy rain, but in the distance Meliora could see a shadowy figure moving slowly toward them. As the figure came closer, she realized it was a man and he was carrying an army bag. It cannot be, she thought to herself, shaking her head.”
      loooove it. :]

      • March 11, 2010 8:20 pm

        Wow! This is awesome. Its so powerful. I especially like “All that could be heard we three sets of footsteps wading through the water. Wait three? ” It changes the entire story, and i dont know, i just love it. Really great work 🙂

    • March 11, 2010 10:42 pm

      Beautiful story Christy!!! I love the first two lines:
      “He’s never coming back, Jenine,”
      “He’s gone and I will never see him again. Why did I not tell him when he was here?”
      It echos the regret that Meliora bears and how she is unable to cope with it.
      I absolutely loved the ending!!! It made me cry happy tears!!!:):):) Think of how Damien’s Mom is going to react to see him!!! *imagines it and starts crying happy tears again*
      Amazing story Christy I absolutely love it and can’t wait to read more of the stuff you post on Thursday Night Write!!!

    • michellezinkbooks permalink*
      March 12, 2010 7:37 pm

      Aw, this was so sweet!


    • michellezinkbooks permalink*
      March 12, 2010 7:42 pm

      I forgot to tell you that this is my favorite part;

      At first, they could see nothing through the heavy rain, but in the distance Meliora could see a shadowy figure moving slowly toward them.

      I see it so clearly in my head, and that is always the ultimate test of great imagery!

    • Ayla permalink
      March 13, 2010 9:34 am

      Oh! I loved it so much! I started to cry halfway through it was so sad!

  10. Ayla permalink
    March 11, 2010 6:16 pm

    I will SO post this week! Just not now!

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