Ellie Beauchamp
Stories (19/0)
Lattes and Love Notes
In the middle of a long forgotten forest, far and away from the corruption and development of humanity, lay a quaint village nestled in the middle of an abandoned clearing. The name of this village has long been forgotten to time; its people of here and now have been known to call it Pine Haven. It is home to all manner of creatures and beings, from fairies and gnomes to a very friendly Minotaur that teaches at the only school for hundreds of miles. The calm of the morning was broken as the sky, that was blanketed in thick, angry storm clouds, suddenly opened up. Heavy sheets of warm summer rain cascaded down and soaked into the packed earth of the streets. The denizens previously milling about the town center now dove under shop awnings and into their homes to escape the downpour. In moments the village square was seemingly deserted, save for a young woman walking earnestly through the square.
By Ellie Beauchampabout a month ago in Fiction
A Trip Down Memory Lane
The first piece I remember writing, never actually got published or shown to anyone. Tragically, it was lost to the unforgiving mistress of ancient technology (and we’re talking ancient in the early 2000’s). A crashed hard-drive took away my greatest accomplishment at the ripe old age of twelve. What I remember about the story is minimal (I think it was a mystery/horror story. I seem to remember a ghost being a main character), but the thing I remember most is the pure dedication I had to putting words into the word document. I spent ages sitting in front of that dinosaur computer monitor, typing away on the dusty mechanical keyboard (the clack clack clack of an old 90s keyboard will always be peak nostalgia for me) and putting together what I thought was going to be the next bestseller.
By Ellie Beauchamp3 months ago in Writers
A Trip Down Memory Lane
The first piece I remember writing, never actually got published or shown to anyone. Tragically, it was lost to the unforgiving mistress of ancient technology (and we’re talking ancient in the early 2000’s). A crashed harddrive took away my greatest accomplishment at the ripe old age of twelve. What I remember about the story is minimal (I think it was a mystery/horror story. I seem to remember a ghost being a main character), but the thing I remember most is the pure dedication I had to putting words into the word document. I spent ages sitting in front of that dinosaur computer monitor, typing away on the dusty mechanical keyboard (the clack clack clack of an old 90s keyboard will always be peak nostalgia for me) and putting together what I thought was going to be the next bestseller.
By Ellie Beauchamp3 months ago in Journal
A Bite Sized Review
This novel sparked the inferno that was teenage angst and rose colored glasses. Almost twenty years since its debut, Twilight has amassed a cult following that also contain its biggest critics. As a "Twi-hard", I can comfortably say there are far better, and healthier, vampire romances to get lost in.
By Ellie Beauchamp3 months ago in Critique
The Ocean of A Thousand Tears
Verida sat in her favorite field of wildflowers conversing with the bushy tailed rabbits and squirrels. The sun burned bright above her head and a warm breeze pushed feathery wisps of clouds through the endless sea of blue sky. Her bare feet were tickled by the long grass and her face lit up with a smile that showcased her effortless beauty. She was a goddess, born from the union of her mother The Moon and her father The Sun. She had been created to tend to the flora and fauna on this planet Earth and see that they thrive. She was abruptly pulled from her day dreaming as the ground beneath her began to vibrate with increasing intensity. Her furry friends bolted for the safety of their homes, and Verida's brow creased with annoyance. She threw a look over her shoulder at the mountain that jutted up from the earth and pierced the sky with its jagged peaks. A large boulder crashed its way down the mountain side and came to rest in the grassy bed at the foot of the ridge.
By Ellie Beauchamp4 months ago in Fiction
A Heist to Pay for Revenge
My fingers delicately began lifting the glass pane on the darkened house. Being in the Wave District, I was surrounded by gaudy mansions made of red brick. I winced when the window made a terrible squeak from inching its frame up. I wasn't worried about getting caught, but nevertheless the sound unnerved me. Silently I slipped inside and crouched low on the extravagant rug in the study. The office was lavishly decorated to show off the wealth of Wilson Bordeaux; my mark, and the man responsible for the assassination of my husband. Creeping around his desk, I located the safe, tucked neatly where Baron said it would be: under the drawers on the right side. I opened the safe with the combination; thanks again, Baron. Inside was exactly what I came for - a small linen pouch full of colorful gems. Pocketing the pouch, I slipped back into the salty night air. I heard the cries for boarding coming from the docks up ahead, and quickened my pace. I grasped a small vial resting at the base of my throat. "Soon, my love, soon I will find a way to bring you back and then… We will have our revenge."
By Ellie Beauchamp6 months ago in Fiction
A Letter to My First Soul Mate
Dearest Helen, You always have and will forever be the best thing to ever come out of basic training. No matter my feelings on how I ended up there, I will never regret the experience because it's what gave me you. Our immediate connection could be looked at by some to be trauma bonding, but my hopeless romantic heart believes our attachment was destined and inevitable. Your soft hazel eyes and your curly chestnut hair caught me entirely by surprise, and the first time I saw you hobbling outside on your crutches, I knew I had to at least introduce myself. I did not know the depths my feelings for you would go, nor that we would end up as much more than just best friends. We bonded quickly over our narcissistic mothers and toxic exes. Some of my favorite memories of Med Hold are all the hours spent coloring on the cold tile floor of the rec room, and the many more hours spent outside at the picnic tables venting about our lives to each other.
By Ellie Beauchamp7 months ago in Poets
Help! I Turned My Husband Into A Cat!
“What exactly is your plan, my love?” My husband spoke in a cool voice. I could tell he was doing his best not to lose his temper. I stood in the kitchen of our quaint suburban home, holding my head in my hands and trying not to panic. At my feet, a black cat with stormy blue eyes blinked up at me as his tail twitched with agitation.
By Ellie Beauchamp9 months ago in Fiction
