# data[].attributes.body
My leg throbbed with agony as I took another slow step forward, raising my long heavy dress away from my sliced leg. I could feel the warm blood oozing from the wound, slowly trickling down my skin and gathering in small puddles on the rocky pavement.

(Cash)

"Hey" someone yells I duck down, what do you want? "Are you okay miss?" he says. I don't reply I don't see the point to reply. I'm in too much pain the cut is too deep to heal. I rip off a small bit of my dress and tied it around my wound trying to limp away I hear whispers of people talking, the voice sounds familiar. It's the same person that did this to me. I go as fast as I could but then I trip over a small stone falling in to a bigger one right on my wound I try not to scream but this is the most painful thing ever I have ever felt, (Reuben) so I screamed.

I felt as if my throat were about to burst, as the scream continued in a long, loud, ear-wrenching sound that made me feel as if my eardrums were about to burst, just like my vocal cords. My heart began to race, my breath grew heavy as panic rose within me, making sweat drip down my face.

I crawled away, the sound of the man who did this to me, growing ever closer. This made fear grow within me; 'What the hell? Why is this bastard following me? What did I do to deserve such a fate?' the thought rang in my mind, the question was unsolvable, something that I couldn't figure out for the life of me.

I had somehow managed to leave the house, only to be met with... no, why would he come after me? I had already escaped him years ago, and yet now he's back? We came to an agreement, we swore to never speak to each other again!

(Winter) The anger in me slowly started to over take me as I heard his footsteps grow closer. I look up. (Jeez i must look like a whimpering idiot). Only to be met with the stabbing stare of his fierce revenge seeking eyes...

# data[].attributes.body
Amongst the shadows, a set of fiery-green eyes emerged. Something inside me recognised that pair of eyes instantly. Ricky Hannings. The man I had so vigorously hated for the past year now.

Slowly, like a spider crawling out of it's burrow, his face emerged from the darkness, lit up by the flickering yellow lights that lined the Aimee tunnel. His face was a chiselled, refined shape, his skin spotless and pale, like that of a vampire. Flawlessly perfect.

His mouth curled up in a smirk at my appearance, and I could feel the resent rising up like a bonfire within me as his intimidating figure came fully into view.

I gripped my leather satchel that hung over my shoulder so tightly, I could feel my nails digging into the material.

"It's been quite a while Alvatore, hasn't it?" He sneered, staring into my eyes cunningly, as if they were searching my soul. I resisted the tempting urge to take a swing at his infuriatingly flawless face as I replied impatiently.

"What the hell are you doing here Ricky?"

"The offer still stands." He said. "I want to ensure you are certain in your decision."

I could feel the pulse of my heart increasing, the fury inside of me bubbling and frothing. I was practically trembling now.

"You've gotta be seriously stupid Ricky- to think I'd ever take up your ridiculous offer. You know that right? Or is your skull too thick?"

I knew I had done something, once I saw his pupils widen and his devious smile fade away.

# data[].attributes.body
I admired her from the rough concrete stairs of the academy, my body completely motionless and my gaze trailing Louise as she glided from side to side. To say Louise was a good dancer was extremely underestimating, Louise was an amazing dancer.

She seemed to move as one with the breeze, her long, pale arms extended gracefully by her sides, meandering among the air around her with great ease. Every single move she made was flawless, it was simply magical.

I watched in awe as she spun around once more, ending the piece with a light curtsy.

Her soft blue eyes met mine once more.

I burst into an explosion of applause, a large smile forming across my face as she found her way to the spot beside me, grasping her pink shiny water bottle from my hands. A soft chuckle left her mouth in response as she began to quench her thirst.

"That was amazing Louise!" I praised, joyfully. The corners of her lips turned up slightly at their corners as she replied.

"Thank you."

# data[].attributes.body
The atmosphere was still and airy, as the luminescent moon hung high in the sky above the scruffy and worn Eiffel tower. Once a spectacular sight, now a cold reminder of the apocalyptic and traumatising events of the last few years. The last few excruciating years.

Not a soul flinched at this ridiculous hour of morning, apart from Kirah Alvatore. She glided throughout the eerie streets and alleyways in silence, morphing with the shadows. She moved like that of a graceful dancer, slipping around the corners and bends, her long and luscious black hair waving around below her silver, gem-studded mask.

Once the golden glow of the Aimee tunnel had appeared into view around the back of the barber, Kirah slipped off her silver mask and shoved it in the leather satchel hung over her shoulder. She began to strode towards it's centre, the honey-coloured ceiling lights of the tunnel flickering ominously, giving Kirah's shadow a lagged appearance along the grey, stained walls.

# data[].attributes.body
Kirah Alvatore had always hated old-fashioned Paris with its tan, testy tunnels. It was a place where she felt unstable.

She was a tight-fisted, cute, red-wine drinker with tall moles and strong eyes. Her friends saw her as a huge, hilarious hero. Once, she had even jumped into a river and saved a rare old lady. That's the sort of woman he was.

Kirah walked over to the window and reflected on her urban surroundings. The moon shone like rampaging owls.

Then she saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Ricki Hannings. Ricki was a smart villainous with blonde moles and charming eyes.

Kirah gulped. She was not prepared for Ricki.

As Kirah stepped outside and Ricki came closer, she could see the slobbering glint in his eye.

"I am here because I want revenge," Ricki bellowed, in an articulate tone. He slammed his fist against Kirah's chest, with the force of 5313 mice. "I frigging hate you, Kirah Alvatore."

Kirah looked back, even more angry and still fingering the ripped blade. "Ricki, hands up or I'll shoot," she replied.

They looked at each other with tense feelings, like two putrid, powerful pigeons running at a very tactless accident, which had classical music playing in the background and two intelligent uncles thinking to the beat.

Suddenly, Ricki lunged forward and tried to punch Kirah in the face. Quickly, Kirah grabbed the ripped blade and brought it down on Ricki's skull.

Ricki's blonde moles trembled and his charming eyes wobbled. He looked revenge-ridden, his body raw like a gigantic, greasy gun.

Then he let out an agonising groan and collapsed onto the ground. Moments later Ricki Hannings was dead.

Kirah Alvatore went back inside and made herself a nice drink of red-wine.

# data[].attributes.body
Winnie sat on the wooden chair, her arms crossed firmly over her chest, glaring down at the carpeted flooring of the classroom. Her legs were stimming with great speed, creating a highly frustrated image. Every now and then she would tip the chair she was on backwards, inflicting its weight upon the brightly-coloured wall behind her, and then slam it back down again, causing the floor to thud with great volume.

# data[].attributes.body
I melt into the chair, my hands perched on the sides. The air is scorching, but a soft, chilly breeze lets my relaxation persevere.

# data[].attributes.body
Harvey came to life with a shriek, heavy droplets of sweat dribbling along the curves of her face. Her face appeared flushed and emaciated, her pupils wide and alert.

What the hell is going on? She asked herself mentally, as if she'd have the answers.

Her trembling arms immediately swung out at her sides, smashing hard against the concrete-hard wall. The room was stuffy and suffocating, the heavy, wet air enfolding Harvey in a humid embrace. She slowly sat up from her spot on the floor, widening her eyes to improve her vision, but the pitch blackness of the room didn't lighten. She felt blind and helpless.

With each breath she took came out a hoarse, croaking sound, unfamiliar to her own. Her throat was that dry, nothing she said sounded like her anymore.

"Wh-what IS THIS?" she screamed, the strange voice echoing out of her mouth and across the confining walls of her newfound environment. Nothing answered or moved.

# data[].attributes.body
Harvey came to life with a shriek, heavy droplets of sweat dribbling along the curves of her face. Her face appeared flushed and emaciated, her pupils wide and alert. The room felt stuffy and suffocating, the heavy, wet air enfolding Harvey in a humid embrace.

# data[].attributes.body
Her grey velvet dress swung around her hips as her partner spun her around, it melted on the ground when she stopped to stand, facing him. Her dress fell perfectly over her figure. He lifted her up in the air while her arms were held out like a bird. Their tapping shoes could be heard over the quiet classical music, echoing through the gold crested ballroom. It seemed almost perfectly choreographed, they way her brown hair fell over his arm like a waterfall as he supported her back. He held his hand up once again as she spun faster this time, so fast you could barely see her face.

You could describe them together as one single soul, dancing gracefully along the shining flooring. The way in which they spun across the floor together, and how every time they moved it felt so right, as if they were connected. The crowd would erupt in a chorus of 'ooh' and 'aahs' every time the woman would spin and be spun, as she would erupt into tornado of vibrant colours, and then neatly arrive back into his arms. Despite this, her hair remained gushing and glowing, not a single hair left astray and bewildered.

# data[].attributes.body
My eyes glided along the wall trim, and the chipped white paint that lined the bottom. The white walls were a faded, slightly murky shade due to it's age, and had several stains and marks spread across it. There were navy, plastic chairs sat scattered on the mint green carpet, and an old fashion ceiling held up by metal scaffolding.

The air in the room felt dense. With a stuffy, dirty smell, even if you were blindfolded, you could tell the environment surrounding was decades old.

# data[].attributes.body
I watch as she tip-toed to centre stage, her poofy white skirt providing an overwhelming contrast to the pitch blackness of the background behind her. Once the soft melody of piano and violin began to arise, she suddenly shot from left to right in swift, jagged movements, dragging the gazes of the crazed viewers from the audience. The movement in which she danced across the stage seemed random and un-ordered, but in a nimble and graceful way.

# data[].attributes.body
My body seemed to radiate a warm, joyous glow, embodying me with a comfortable embrace, as if I was lying down on lucid emerald-coloured grass on a radiant summers day. The corners of my lips seemed to turn themselves upwards, plastering a cheesy grin on my lively face. My eyes were kept open, images of bright, refreshing rainbows and flamboyant meadows bursting with flowers flashing in my mind, further emphasizing the smile wrinkles on my cheeks. I sat up however, after a few solid minutes of daydreaming and shot my eyes across the room to Dean, who sat consumed by the awful darkness of the corner, untouched by any form of light or brightness. His expression remained blank, his intense icy eyes sat fixed on the grey carpet of the room.

# data[].attributes.body
Setting

Dreary, washed-out beach

Rocky cliff jutting out over violent, crashing waves

Sick, unwell looking water and sky

---

Story is from the perspective of someone that has experienced trauma from a war, and is thinking of and replaying the events that happened on the cliff not too far from them. They are taking in their surroundings and immersing themselves in the memories of their past.

# data[].attributes.body
It felt as if I had walked straight into a mythical fairy-tale.
A large, golden chandelier was draped from the exquisite ceiling, bathing the room in a soft, honey glow. Situated below the breathtaking chandelier was a large, oak staircase, layered with smooth marble steps. I stood in awe at the entrance, frozen in place as I took in the overwhelming presence of the room, tracing my eyes over the intricate patterns that lined the cream-coloured walls.

# data[].attributes.body
I scanned my eyes over the vast, icy white terrain around me littered with large, spruce trees, the snow glimmering as if it was made of glitter. Despite the large, padded coat draped over my shoulders and head, the wispy wind continued to slam into my ears, causing an uncomfortable headache and jarring pain. I take a deep breath, the crispy, thin air encircling into my lungs and dancing around my insides, as I take a lagging step forward. My bones feel brittle and weak, like they might snap any second.
With a deep sigh, I continue to trudge slowly throughout the thick layers of snow, wincing in pain as my body screams of cold.
Nearly there. I reassured myself, as the golden lights of the inn finally came into view.

# data[].attributes.body
I sat stiffly on the oak stool, stimming my legs rapidly against the glossy, tiled flooring of the dining room. The air felt thick and humid, hung heavy over our heads as we sat in silence, plates and cutlery clinking as we picked up forkfuls of pasta into our mouths in a slow, cramped manner.
I skimmed my eyes across the table and the room, a tight, on-edge feeling thriving in my chest and prolonging with every pulse of my heart.
How long is this going to last? I wondered, raising another awkward spoonful of pasta towards my mouth, chewing slowly.
This silence is killing me.

# data[].attributes.body
I watched as Jasmine approached and clambered into the chair beside me, stimming her leg nervously once she had sat down. Up and down, up and down. Amongst the deathly stillness of the room, Jasmine's fidgetiness was a large contrast in atmosphere. I turned to face her after a while, and noticed how she clawed her long, sturdy fingernails against the armrests of the chair, painting wrinkly lines into the pattern of the wood. She was a wreck.
I leant down in front of me and snatched my plastic water bottle from it's bag, the glimmering clear liquid rippling inside as I held it out in front of me, gesturing to Jasmine.
"You want some?" I asked, her nervous, icy eyes sharply attracting to mine. The corners of her mouth curled up forcibly, and a noisy breath escaped her nose as she replied.
"No thank you."
Returning her gaze towards the centre of the stage, she was counting down the seconds until the place would be embroiled in shadows. The moment when everything would be swallowed by an impending darkness, and the assassins would be released into the crowd to terminate their target.
The man currently in centre stage.
---
"-so thank you again, to everyone who decided to come along today and listen to my speech." said the broad shouldered man on stage. His large brown eyes skimming across the audience, his eyelids fluttering.

# data[].attributes.body
What I Liked:
- the comparison to that of a painter with her skates
- the language and similes used fit her image as an graceful ice-skater
What I Could Work On:
- describing what she looks like + what she's wearing

# data[].attributes.body
I admired her with awe as she slid gracefully across the glowing ice, her skates etching strokes into the ground like that of a painter with every step she took. Every time she took another spin, her small figure would burst into harsh blurs of colour and you couldn't help but feel a sick drop in your stomach at the mesmerising sight.