Chanelle Joy
Bio
I love painting pictures with words, whether it be in poetry or story form, or tackling a social issue in an essay or article. So take a load off and let me entertain you!
I also take commissions. Enquire at [email protected] :)
Stories (50/0)
Dance of the Dead
Music can do a lot towards enhancing the atmosphere of a party, and music is my thing. I live and breathe music. My Spotify has at least twenty different playlists to suit every possible mood – maybe even more. I’ve lost count. I feel the emotion of the songs deep down in my soul, and so I like my music to complement my state of mind, not contradict it. There’s nothing like screaming out an angry Stone Sour song to vent my anger as I’m driving, cleaning, or whatever else I may be doing. It’s cathartic.
By Chanelle Joy3 years ago in Beat
Running With Wolves
In between trying to telepathically communicate with Rowen, I somehow managed to doze. It was 2:00 in the morning when Seth woke me to take my stint in the driver’s seat. Yawning, I rubbed my weary eyes. My brief slumber had been filled with horrifying nightmares and in no way restful. There was an all-night diner near where we had pulled up.
By Chanelle Joy3 years ago in Fiction
Running With Wolves
PROLOGUE So, the world ended. Well, maybe that’s being a little overly dramatic, but it isn’t far from the truth. It started almost a year ago, within the heart of the Arctic Circle. No one noticed at first. Seeing as the Arctic Ocean is always covered by ice to some extent, no one thought much of it when the ice coverage began to spread; that is, until it began to spread quite rapidly and scientists observed a dramatic temperature drop, which continued to decrease at a steady pace. Greenland was the first to go, soon completely swallowed by the fast-moving ice. They had no warning. All life – human, animal and plant – was obliterated by the freezing conditions. After that, word was quickly spread to all countries bordering the Arctic Circle. For East Canada, it was also too late. That was where my home used to be.
By Chanelle Joy3 years ago in Fiction
The Narcissist's Game
We've all heard the term 'narcissist.' We know that, generally speaking, the term narcissist refers to someone who is considered selfish, someone who only cares about themselves. But there is so much more to it than that. Narcissists are a whole different breed who play a game of emotional manipulation in order to lure in their unsuspecting victims. Narcissistic abuse doesn't have to be physical, but the emotional and mental abuse can be severely damaging to the victim's psyche. There are some red flags to look out for, yet even if the victim sees these flags, the narcissist has ways to use those warning signs to their advantage as well.
By Chanelle Joy3 years ago in Psyche
Moonlight Harlot
Whisp the fairy stood on the street curb with one hand resting on her cocked hip and a salacious glint in her amethyst-coloured eyes. Her wings sparkled majestically – invitingly – in the full moonlight. It was almost midnight. Cynthia, her young Charge, would be sound asleep by now, drifting peacefully in the land of dreams. Well, Whisp still saw her as young, but Cynthia was growing up, almost too old for imaginary friends now; which meant Whisp could no longer earn enough in her day job to survive. Quickly blinking away the threat of tears, Whisp smiled and winked at an attractive fire nymph walking by. Got to keep it together, she thought. The less hours she spent with her Charge, obviously the less she got paid. Currency for her kind was called Vita Dust. It was what gave them the ability to live and breathe in the human world, and the more time spent in the human world, the more Vita Dust you acquired. Their Charges gave Vita Dust to them without knowing, simply by having fun. The more fun a Charge had with their “imaginary” friend, the more Vita Dust they exhumed, hence the more life and energy the imaginary friend received.
By Chanelle Joy3 years ago in Filthy
I Solemnly Swear That I Am Up to No Good
"What’s your Hogwarts House?” It’s one of the first questions I ask when meeting someone new. Why? Knowing someone’s Hogwarts House can pretty much tell me all I need to know about a person. It can give me a basic, yet well-rounded, sense of their personality, their ethics, morals and values. When the Pottermore Sorting Hat sorted me into Slytherin all those years ago, it was a major defining point in my life. For the first time, I actually felt as though I had a sense of identity, a real understanding of who I was. I suddenly knew why I did certain things, why I behaved and reacted in certain ways, and why I was often so misunderstood. No doubt there are many psychotherapists who will tell you that discovering your Hogwarts House is by no means an accurate way to define your sense of self, but I beg to differ. Pottermore has been replaced by Wizarding World, and to be sorted by the Sorting Hat you need to take a quiz. Now, critics might scoff, likely believing it to be a nonsense quiz that won’t ask any real questions; and they would be wrong. The questions in the quiz may be a little outside the box, but they are surprisingly deep. All questions are multiple choice and you find you really have to think it through before you choose your answer. Sometimes the results are surprising. My result was not. I feel at home in Slytherin, in a way I have never felt at home before. It was like a puzzle piece finally slipping into place. Although, your result is by no means the be all, end all. Think of it more like a suggestion. If, for whatever reason, you find you aren’t happy with the Sorting Hat’s choice of house, then just like Harry Potter, you are free to choose for yourself where you feel you belong. Also, taking the quiz is free. Who doesn’t love a free quiz to find out something new about themselves?
By Chanelle Joy3 years ago in Geeks
The Last Pear Tree
It was said that a fairy named Malinah had ventured from the fae world – known as Corphim – and had stolen the last pear tree. Malinah was very beautiful; so much so that King Eldan had taken her to be his consort the moment he’d met her, and yet, as if to say she wasn’t good enough, he had chosen to marry another. Nissa was lovely, with her flaming red hair and emerald green eyes. But why should she deserve to be queen over Malinah?
By Chanelle Joy3 years ago in Fiction
My Little Experiment
April showers bring May flowers; at least, that’s what my shrink used to tell me. If she’d known where that would lead, she might have chosen different words. But that was the phrase she used and that was the phrase that started it all. Logically, I knew she was just trying to tell me that hard times can result in something beautiful. Still, I took it to mean something else entirely. This is the story of how my April showers brought May flowers.
By Chanelle Joy3 years ago in Horror
The Night the Moon Turned Green
It all started on World Union Day when the bombs fell. We weren’t told who dropped them, only that they were a bioweapon sent with the intention of genocide by an enemy seeking world domination. It didn’t make sense. Ten years ago, the world had entered a new era, uniting under one flag. Humanity had just crawled from the ruins of the worst war in Earth’s history; a war that nearly wiped out all life. Many hard lessons were learned and it was decided we couldn’t afford another such war. So came the Great Decade of Peace. Referendums were held across the globe and, eager for the cessation of violence, the majority voted in agreeance of the peace and a new leadership scheme. Each nation was delegated a Pristine and a party of Overseers, collectively called Overlords. For ten years, we rejoiced in what we thought was finally World Peace. For ten years, we were lied to.
By Chanelle Joy3 years ago in Fiction
The Door
I stared at the door. How had I gotten here? Where had I come from? I knew I had not always existed in this place, standing before this door. I had arrived here and I felt sure my arrival had been very recent. Hadn’t I been in bed? Yes, I had gone to bed early as I had a busy schedule for the following day. Perhaps this was a dream.
By Chanelle Joy3 years ago in Fiction