Allison Cain
Bio
I have always been inspired by the words of others, and hope that one day someone is as inspired by my words.
Stories (6/0)
What was Once Lost
I had spent many years away from any human villages. Their emotions were always so overwhelming, I could never really tell where my emotions started and theirs ended. I wasn't going to get anywhere close to the village the last time I had, I earned a new scar. It was the silence that made me circle back and land in the forest. There had been no emotions coming from the village when I had flown over head. Few creatures moved between the roots, and bushes. There was something heavy hanging among the branches. It felt familiar to me but it had been such a long time. I made my way a few steps at a time toward the edge of the woods. I paused for a moment, salt hung in the air and I could hear soft sniffling. What I felt hit me hard enough for me to take a step back. Waves of pain, anger, and confusion rolled over me. I couldn't breath it felt as if someone had wound barbed wire around my lungs. I tried taking a few more steps, the feelings kept coming. I'm not sure what I was expecting to find but I certainley was not expecting to find a toddler standing between the trees. Her dress was dirty and her hair fell in ringlets and tangles. She couldnt have been more than a couple years old, what was she doing out here all by herself?
By Allison Cainabout a year ago in Fiction
What I Would Give
Try for a moment to imagine you are an awkward 13 year old in that time in your life when nothing makes sense. Your friends are changing, your home life is changing, and everything feels unhinged. You end up having one of the worst days in awhile and you just want to escape, to be anywhere but where you are... So you pick up a book. It does not look like much at first but it is written in such a way that one moment you are opening to the first page and then all of a sudden its over. You've finished it and without really knowing how, it helped you work through that bad day. You read it again, and find something new hiding between the lines that helps you resolve something that was weighing heavily on your heart. Suddenly it becomes your safe place, you check it out from the library every other week because you know that even though you have read it a million times you will still find something new that helps you. It helps you to realize that there is a light at the end of the tunnel, that change can actually be a good thing. Even if it is scary at first. It inspires you, to be you. It inspires you into believing maybe, just maybe someday you can write like that too. I did so many chores and saved money for weeks so that I could buy my own copy of Beauty by Robin McKinley. To some it is considered "just" another retelling of Beauty and the Beast, which is one of my favorite storries anyway. Now it is the most loved in my collection. If you looked at my shelf it would not take you long to find it. Her book, her WORDS were the spark that lit my passion, and I have been writing ever since. I did everything I could to get my hands on books, finding all the ways the authors used words to express the world inside of them. I took every elective class in high school that had anything to do with writing. I joined the creative writing club to fill the void when I ran iut of classes to take. I have tried writing everything under the sun to have an outlet for the words in my heart. Poetry (I actually suck at it), songs, articles (I hated all the rules). I finally settled on the freedom of writing fiction and novels. I have written piece after piece trying to finish, trying to reach the point where my words would inspire someone else. That someday my words would help anchor someone else to the world. I want my book to be that worn out copy on the shelf. That is my passion, writing with the belief that someday in the future my words will build someone up, the same way my favorite book had. I want other people to feel the way that I do when I connect with the words on the page. I want them to find pieces of themselves between the lines like I do. When I found this platform I was unsure, but being able to post here has been a brand new experience. Now that I can see how many people have read what I have written it gives me hope for that future. It is still a small percentage of people but it makes me feel as if I am right on the edge of reaching my goal. Reaching someone with my words that needs them. I can not imagine a better feeling, knowing that I can get there. Even if it is small steps every once in a while it is still a step!
By Allison Cain3 years ago in Journal
Finding a Way
Ten Years Ago… The King and Queen lived happily with their five-year-old daughter and their subjects. The land of Spiron was peaceful until war broke out on the Eastern border. King Devlin rallied up his soldiers and went to fight. A year passed, the Princess turned six and Queen Rory stayed locked in her chambers looking to the east, watching, waiting for the return of the king.
By Allison Cain3 years ago in Humans
Red Hues
"I used to think that red was an angry color. They tell you that the reason bulls get so mad in bull fights is because the matador uses a red cape. Truth is the red that gets them mad is their own blood. They use sharp spears and swords to get them riled up, for the crowd..." I stopped. The color had drained from the mans face next to me. Oops. I almost forgot that this was like speed dating. Except with art instead of ice breakers.
By Allison Cain3 years ago in Humans
With One Sentence
I opened my eyes when the bus came to a halt, a quick peek out the window told me we hadn't reached my stop yet. I sighed, when I get my own vehicle I'll laugh at the bus as I pass it by. No more praying I had made enough tips to cover my bus fare. No more waiting in the rain or in the snow, just getting to where I want to be when I want to get there. I looked at the group of girls getting on, they were the loud giggly type and I couldn't help but roll my eyes. No more gossip girls. I reached for my bag next to me and saw a little black book peaking out from underneath it. It wasn't mine. I looked around seeing if anyone was watching me, everyone was sitting forward. I guess someone left it before I sat down? I shook my head, that was impossible. I always check both seats before I sit down. I've sat myself or my bag in something nasty one too many times. This was definitely not here before. On closer inspection it wasn't anything special. I shook it upside down... nothing fell out, but the sentence on the first page caught my eye.
By Allison Cain3 years ago in Humans