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Write something...

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Oscar looked down, Wood. Up. Wood. He looked around. Glass. Pure, shining glass, he could see himself. Tall, thin, skinny, slender, with short blonde hair. He was looking there, with a face that could mean scaredness. No, he wasn't looking at his own miserable body, no. He was looking down from about 3/4 of a mile up in the sky. As you could infer, he was scared of heights. He despised the unwilling thought of him falling down. Everlasting. Pain. Crack. He tried not to think about it, but couldn't help himself. There, he leaned on the glass by accident. He shrieked, then whimpered. But then he realized. It was life. All you have to do was face it. And be careful. And then, he looked down, with a smile.

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Here is the link to one of me and Raina and Una Joy's stories!

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Here is the link to one of me and Raina and Una Joy's stories!

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(Raina please comment if I can share it with people)

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I  Wrote a Book Called Team Mustint. Here it is!

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I  Wrote a Book Called Team Mustint. Here it is!

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I Made This A Long Time Ago! It is bad writing! WARNING!

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This is the link to the first story I wrote with Una Joy and Gabby. We've definitely improved, so this isn't our finest work, but I think it has a good idea. P.S. We tried to make our writing reflect our characters, I wrote for Raelynn, Una Joy for Meraki, and Gabby for Arkin

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This is the link to the first story I wrote with Una Joy and Gabby. We've definitely improved, so this isn't our finest work, but I think it has a good idea. P.S. We tried to make our writing reflect our characters, I wrote for Raelynn, Una Joy for Meraki, and Gabby for Arkin

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Welcome to RaeMerArk!

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Create a new document and edit with others at the same time -- from your computer, phone or tablet. Get stuff done with or without an internet connection. Use Docs to edit Word files. Free from Google.

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People asked why I did what I did, why I was like I was.
I never answered them, too frightened of what might spill out of my box of words.
And now, when the trees are long gone and the mountains have eroded to rust,
I ask myself again,
Why?
I suppose there's a logical solution to it, some combination of DNA strands connecting through my body.
But when you learn things, you lose not knowing them.
Why can you not imagine some divine being wishing you to life, hoping you will help the world.
And then when you look back from somewhere higher, you realize that you could not help.
Why?
I do not know.
And now, looking upon this bleak and barren landscape, I feel like I could sigh my life away.
But love is a blessing and a burden, and I must continue for the sake of my loved ones.
And that is the one anchor keeping the Earth itself together.

Why do we exist when we could choose not to?
Why do we stumble on through blizzards of pain?
Would it not be easier to just drift away, float up, release everything weighing you down?
Or is there a reason?
A purpose for our hurt, our anger, our despair, our joy, our shame, and all of our other heavy weights?
We will not know.
And we will never know.
And so, we toil on, forever.
I stand up from my dusty perch on a small wooden bench. Turning around, I see a wooden house and forest around. I lift a smooth hand, no longer withered, and trace it through the air.

I KNOW WHY.

And I run into sunshine's warm embrace, at peace with the world, and knowing that I will never know.

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the bike. bright red in color, beautiful. parked in an even layer of soft, pillowy snow.
perfect bike, must belong to a perfect man.
take a closer look.
the bike isn't painted, it's stained.
the water isn't water, it's poison.
the snow is filled with crooked, irregular, footprints.
maybe that man isn't so perfect.

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forgotten. abandoned. lost in a sea of bikes chained to trees. the man riding the bike would never come back.
but he did.
holding a cup of coffee, he hopped onto his bike and pedaled home.

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"It wasn't supposed to live."
"And now?"
"And now, it shall die."
"You won't care for it, since it lived?"
"It was doomed to die from the very beginning."

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"Perhaps it would have been better if it'd died in the first place. And now, it will live in misery."
"It's a test animal. That's what it's for."
"For dying?"
"No. For living in misery."

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"Where did it come from?"
"Does it matter?"
"Yes."
"I don't know. Probably it came from another testing store where it had survived."
"It's already lived in misery, then."
"Yes."
"It's good to know we're not the first ones."

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"They're still alive."
"They're not supposed to be."
"That's obvious. Our test worked; what do we do with the leftover potion?"
"Sell them?"
"They are

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name:
miranda
hair: red
eyes: bright blue with big pupils, like a puppy
wears: dark clothing
is kind of a social outcast
a murderer
in the end, she just wants to be loved
sage:
originally had ash blond hair, but dyed it purple, then blue, then aqua, and settled on silver
is kind of a loner
has grey eyes
is also a killer
kills because she's upset that she kills (like a drunk drinks because they're upset they drink)(sage and miranda used to be friends)

"Say-say, you're leaving?!"
"It's alright mir, I'll be back. We're best friends forever, remember?"
"right. promise?"
"promise."
...
That promise was broken.
...
It had been a while. Sage had gotten used to living in vancouver.
But Miranda couldn't live without sage
....
Life was good for sage.
She started to dye her hair. purple, then blue, then aqua. she came to the conclusion of silver, and although she was never happy with it, it stayed like that. She ditched her glasses for contacts. tried to become popular. but she failed.
miserably.
And thats when she realized she needed miranda. that ache for her friend was always there. sage chose to bury it with schoolwork and piano, but it never worked.
and that's what made her start to kill.
...
miranda wasn't doing well either. without her best friend, she was nothing. she started wearing black. ditched her favorite kitty hairpins and flowery dresses without a thought.
because life without sage, just wasnt life.
...

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E: The soft edges are like cotton candy, the taste is so sweet it gives a tang in your mouth. The inside of the E is cushy like a bed. But it’s odor is so sour it kicks your senses off. You feel nothing of what was felt before. All of the sweetness has gone away, all of the beautiful feelings, all of the beautiful tastes.

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Here is my poem.

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Create a new document and edit with others at the same time -- from your computer, phone or tablet. Get stuff done with or without an internet connection. Use Docs to edit Word files. Free from Google.

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the number four
(a dark red
piercing)
a mellow blue
seven
(glowing, yellow
angelic)
is truly the odd one.

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A struggling B, standing out among the  blues and purples, the one difference between the masses. Bright as a star, brown as rust. engulfed in the other sad and depressing colors. No, B could not give up. It was happy and optimistic, willing and excited for what was to come. It was a flashy bright light brown B. the light flashing across the room casting the reflection of the other sad beings across the room, all of that taking the B into their masses, but the willing letter kept on fighting, until it was glowing with good emotion, empathy, and was brighter than ever.

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( Side note: this isn't the one I did, but I made a new one because I don't wanna share that one.)

A is like the blowing wind against my hair and face it stings but feels so refreshing after the hot summer.

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What happens when your mom walks in on  you incarcerating your friend....

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What happens when your mom walks in on  you incarcerating your friend....

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The looming darkness filled the room, the shadows of a figure appeared on the peeled wall.  The slapping of shoes hitting the concrete floor echoed across the room. A dimly lit lightbulb dangled from a wire in the center of the low ceiling. The shadows grew larger as the figure grew closer to the light. It felt as if the room was having a pounding headache as L walked into the room. His stern face, unassuming in the slightest. Tied to a chair positioned directly below the dangling light bulb sat F,struggling against the restraints bestowed upon him. L walked the stick he was holding on the wall and F cringed. L smiled, cruelly and continued to pace the room, wondering what to do with his shrewd captive. L’s face fell as there was knock on the door. L quickly scurried out of the room and opened the door. His mother, G was standing in the doorway wearing her pink blouse. “Why in the world are the lights off?” G asked. “MOOOM! Why did you have to come in the middle of F’s incarceration?” L whined. L slowly walked down the corridor and into the open room. Then he pulled the shades up and the light filtered into the room.

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Leo Dieviodivele Arsenic kicked a pebble into the street. It was a stupid, childish, thing to do really, but he didn't care. "Why is life so hard?" he murmurred to himself. "And why did I miss writing club,... and why is Teddy acting like a prat,.."
"Don't ask unaswerable questions," an unfamiliar voice answered. Or rather, not answered , but simply spoke; for the unknown voice was curiously cryptic.
"And why does everything always happen at the wrong time?" Leo asked, ignoring the unfamiliar voice.
"Well, it's only logical, isn't it? I mean, you don't really think about all the things that happen at the right time. But you notice when something happens at the wrong time, don't you? And so you think everything happens at the wrong time." The unidentified person shrugged in Leo's peripheral vision. "Never fails."
Now Leo lifted his eyes from the rock vibrating in the center of the street, and looked up, to the child now standing besides him. He blinked; he hadn't seen her move. "You've been studying humans?" he asked incredulously. "You've been testing human behavior?"
The other child, now a girl, as he could see, shrugged. "Not testing. Studying. Observing. Listening."
"To whom, exactly?" Leo wondered audibly.
"I mostly report to myself," the girl continued thoughtfully, "but sometimes I share my findings with Raelynn or Melanie."
"And who are they?" Leo wondered, still staring at the newcomer.
"Friends," the girl replied simply. Glaring at Leo, she added, "Any more stupid questions?"
Leo blinked again. "They weren't stupid. They were thoughtful. And they were accusatory, I guess,.."
"And stupid and pointless. Now you have two options; ask me a question that isn't pointless, or go."
"In that case," Leo answered easily, "what's your name? You've told me your friend's, but you haven't-"
The girl stared at him for a long moment. "Call me the Fireshaper."
~~~
"Are you half-way-done yet?"
Melanie Figure nodded, but Raelynn Clearprism shook her head.
"Not half-way-done. We finished before the class started," Rae explained.
The teacher frowned slightly. They had only begun the activity a few minuets ago. "How?"
Rae shrugged slightly, smiling almost sheepishly. "Maybe we bent time."
At this point, Melanie looked up, giving her friend a hard look. "In the future, Rae," was all she said.
"How do we know what the future holds?" Raelynn asked. It was one of the more hypothetical questions she had begun to ask more and more.
"You do know the teacher's here, right?" Melanie inquired.
Raelynn nodded. "Yes."
The teacher, as it appears, had been watching the exchange with curiosity at this mysterious exchnge. Knowing mysteries were best left mystic, and besides, she'd find out soon anyway, she left the breakout room.
Raelynn let out a low wolf-whistle. "Maybe cryptic's good."
"Maybe, Rae."
Rae smiled back. "Maybe, Ark."
"I like Kiani better," Melanie laughed.
"Maybe, Kiani."

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45 not exatly a round number but an easy number to use. She is deutiful gracful and kind everyone loves her.

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A, a heart heavy with loneliness, the first in a line of many. Dead dead, alive dead, to the world of the beginning.

B, never first. An encoded line of second. One behind, one forgotten, one a step down.
L, silvery, not important enough

1, first to come, the first to go. Forgotten to be replaced. I won the game, he got the fame. Strike of lightning, the start of the new era. My name, one replaced by another's, one forever known. 1800s, take me away.

2. Next problem, eyes drooping. Told to work, work till your brain gives out. Your aged hands move across the leathery paper.

17, the beginning of the end of the rulers days. We the people, renouncing law for costly freedom. Many dead and more to come, with all eyes following the worn bloodstained boots of good old Uncle Sam.

32, crowds cheering. Yell from the stands of the Yankee stadium, ask yourself, who is my favorite player?
74, not there yet, you know you'll always live in shadows. Brother gets the attention, but I was the better one. I provide a better challenge to the young minds.

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He laughed, a harsh barking sound so unlike the melodious tones of his younger self. "Of course you've changed. You've changed, I've changed. We've all changed." "All?" He snorted like it was the stupidest question in the world. "Well, yeah. You, me, Ester, Kaye, Phexo, Atehi, Minoloy, Qato-" "Qato's here?" She couldn't keep the excitement from her voice at the prospect of seeing her best friend for the first time in five years. "Yes, Qato's here." "Whe- uh, I mean, who else is with you guys?" Her first guide, an older man with all of the authority of the president, shoved Brodinlai out of the way to continue. "There's also Seniile, Ontar, Vawi, Pastorek, Wtar, and Len." "I know Len and Seniile, but not everyone else."

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I had the idea to do a short story writing for the holidays. It would be optional, and due at the end of winter break. There are a few guidelines you can follow or ignore completely.

1. Equality Writing- Your writing has to show equality, which is really important on the next guideline

2. Reincarnation- Your writing will be about the reincarnation of some popular figure in your culture. The guideline above is incredibly important here, like having a black Santa.

3. Fantasy- Your writing has to include some element of magic, invisibility on one week, for example

This is it! You can choose one of the guidelines, two of them, all of them, or ignore everything!

Whether you want to post the link to your own writing (you can write on a Google Doc [recommended], paper [either type it out on Padlet or take photos of it], or write the entire story on Padlet [remember that the process of the writing can be seen by anyone else on the Padlet]) or you simply want to read other people's posts, this is the link to the Padlet: https://padlet.com/RaeRaeRaelynnClearprism/dgdxsi9yea42fmep

Raina

P.S. Please ignore my personal account name on Padlet.