Kristen Leavitt
Bio
Hey all! I am a recent graduate from BYU in Provo with a masters in PE. I have a passion for the outdoors, physical activity, sports, and health, but I also love writing! I love my husband, parents, and all eleven of my siblings!
Stories (86/0)
Connection
Horick had never been much a fan of pub songs, and this one was worse than most. The singer was drunk, the lyrics were terrible, and the music uninspired. The audience was all three. Tonight, however, his thoughts were loud enough to drown out the rowdy bard, seated atop a wobbly stool and strumming at the strings of a small kalili. He missed the instrument entirely several times, causing the less intoxicated patrons to laugh raucously.
By Kristen Leavittabout a year ago in Fiction
Mama's Baby
I always hated that raspy, haunting cry outside my window. It started just a few weeks before school got out for summer vacation when I was in fifth grade. The first time I heard it, I ran screaming into Mom’s room, sure there was a ghost right outside my window. After a thorough investigation by Dad, the culprit was found, nestled in a little hole in the oak tree growing up beside our house. Despite our considerable distance from any barns, we had gained a new resident. A barn owl.
By Kristen Leavittabout a year ago in Fiction
Prisoner
Eshi sat quietly in the muted lantern light, using chalk to draw fanciful images on the floor. Memories of things she used to know. Were they real? Or just dreams? She would need to ask for more chalk soon. She was all out of blue and pink, her two favorites. Well, she also really liked yellow. And purple. And green was very nice.
By Kristen Leavittabout a year ago in Fiction
Punishment
Jistan shuffled from foot to foot, watching the group before him with great trepidation. The tension in the air was palpable, as if it could form into a mind strike. Four figures stood facing a tall woman with violent purple eyes. The Highness stared down at them from a podium coldly. Jistan stood back a few paces, uncertain what his place was in this situation.
By Kristen Leavittabout a year ago in Fiction
Smeared Writing
I was a goldfish in room of piranhas. A very well-dressed goldfish; silky blue dress with an ankle-length skirt slit up both sides to my knees to make it possible for me to walk. Stiletto style heels ruined that, giving me a ridiculous five extra inches.
By Kristen Leavitt2 years ago in Fiction
The Guardian's Path
Kalissa tried to remain alert as Witness Halidan spoke. Despite her best efforts, her eyelids began to droop, her head started to fall, and she almost toppled straight forward in the pew. Then she jerked awake, embarrassed, and the fight for wakefulness began again.
By Kristen Leavitt2 years ago in Fiction
Going Home
The two-year old boy lay on the operating table, a respirator covering his mouth and nose. A frantic group of doctors and nurses started IV’s, took vitals, and called out results to people standing by with clipboards. The child was covered in bruises, a very large one coloring the right side of his face a deep purple. The basement door at his home had been left open, and the unsteady toddler had lost his footing and fallen all the way down onto concrete floor. They had little hope for his survival.
By Kristen Leavitt2 years ago in Fiction
Figures in the Dark
Aniah got a good look at the prisoner’s face for the first time, laying on the floor as she was. The kicking had momentarily stopped and she dared to look up. The half-dead man had somehow managed to turn his head and was staring at Aluri with brilliant green eyes. Aniah watched him dully, wondering how there could still be so much defiance in those eyes.
By Kristen Leavitt2 years ago in Fiction
