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Topic: Having trouble Writing... (Read 35 times)

Wicked Queen
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Wickedest Queen of them all.

Joined: Nov 2007
Gender: Female

Posts: 27
Location: Kansas

Having trouble Writing...
« Thread Started on Dec 2, 2007, 7:20am »

I am actually having a lot of trouble writing now a days.
I feel kinda like my creative flow has run dry....
I've started back to basics, doing some fanfic, starting some rps, just some of the usual things that inspire me.
Even so It feels kinda effortless in the end cause I still can't keep any of my stories going.

Maybe it's depression from the loss of every one of my creative pieces do to my moms computer stupidity.

Skill points of a two year old: 10

Skill points of my mom: -3000

v.v;

FT FTW!

« Last Edit: Dec 2, 2007, 7:21am by Wicked Queen »

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Wicked Queen
Newbie

member is offline

Wickedest Queen of them all.

Joined: Nov 2007
Gender: Female

Posts: 27
Location: Kansas

an example of meh writing!
« Reply #1 on Dec 2, 2007, 7:47am »

Darkness

They say it was cursed, I didn’t believe them. I went to the house on the end of the lane, the last and oldest house in our whole town. We were in the modern times now and it would be gone soon. It was my last chance to prove to them I wasn’t a chicken, I wasn’t afraid.

I hurried down the road me and my friends all dressed in black. They waited by the fence while I moved closer and closer to the house. I wasn’t scared… I’m not scared… but why is it so much colder on this porch?

There wasn’t much to getting into the old white washed house. The wood frame of the door was frigid and a little force was all it took to get inside. I turned and gave them a thumbs up before closing the door behind me.

One night, I repeated to my self as I examined the darkness of the home, he knew it was once a happy place. What was that? I turned towards the kitchen, or what I figured to be the kitchen by its outline. I dug into my pocket and found the mini flashlight on my key ring. I snorted a bit; it was ironic that I told my sister when she gave it to me that I would never have use for such a small light.

So here I was creeping slowly into the dimly lit kitchen to investigate the noise, that I was 99.9% I invented in my head because I was thinking of not being scared. I jumped back as I felt something move against my shoulder I wanted to shout but my voice was caught in my throat. I scrambled to get the little light back on as I hit the counter top of the back wall. It was a curtain. I laughed at my stupidity and sat up straight. There was a curtain tied up to replace a missing door between the kitchen and the broom closet and I thought it was something from the great beyond. I snorted again and moved through the kitchen to a den that would lead into the family room that wrapped back around to the front of the house.

Might as well go upstairs. I thought seeing a staircase beside a window on the far wall. Starting up slowly I insisted to myself that the constant scratching I heard was merely my mind warping the sound of the creaking stairs.

“Clark.”

I swept around quickly shining my little light down the stair case. There was no one there, not one of my buddies trying to scare me, no ghostly figure, not even a shifty shadow. My mind only… I tired to tell himself though it calmed me none. As I started walking up the stairs again I was shivering.

After looking around a few of the rooms I finally settled in to the corner of the master bedroom. I don’t know how it happened but I fell asleep, it was really a strange thing because I felt so alert, awake, and most of all scared before I sat down. It was like all the sudden all my energy drained from me….

Time passed… I faintly heard the name Clark being called. It was my name I remembered suddenly… I got up, Am I awake? Am I dreaming? Am I real? I moved forward, I felt so light. Like flying… but with my feet on the ground.

I fell, my mind was blank I got up slowly I couldn’t think, I was lost, I scrambled to find something solid, My hands hit dirt. I panicked feeling around. All of it was dirt I was closed in, buried alive. I screamed over and over I knew no one could hear me but I screamed and clawed and cried until I lost my energy.

Again I slept, time was slipping away, red flashed inside my eyelids, I knew that meant light. I opened my eyes to see my older brother looking down on me. Faintly I could here him talking to me, his tears falling on my face. I tried to move and he stopped me… I didn’t under stand.

“Why?” I asked him, my voice was rough my throat dry and my lips were splitting and starting to bleed…

I fell asleep again…

I was told later that I was seen running from the house by my friends, they thought it was funny, laughed about it for awhile. When I didn’t come back they got worried and went to go find my brother. When he couldn’t find me the police were brought it. Finally they found me, they said they had no idea how I’d buried my self so deep… or gotten the dirt on so perfectly like a fresh grave…

I’ve been in the hospital awhile now. Three months… I will get to go home soon, they say there is nothing they can possibly explain why I did what I did to myself… but I didn’t do anything I still insist.

---

So I couldn't find anything that I wanted to share off hand, this is a short story I did for an online class last year.

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