Morgan Starkey
Bio
I am a 28 year old, female. I am part of and an avid supporter of the LGBT community. I have been writing since I was in high school and once dreamed of being a writer, now my dream is to be an English teacher, but I still want to write
Stories (17/0)
Grandmother's Warning
Grandmother had always been clear before her death, you only saw the Owl before someone passed. The day before she passed was the first time Ellis saw the Owl. It was sitting on the post in front of their house; she tried to ignore the eerily intelligent eyes following her into the building, and by the time she want to sleep, she forgot all about it.
By Morgan Starkey2 years ago in Fiction
Prologue-The Stone Flower
Annistyn believed she had a wonderful life, there was not a single thing wrong with it. She had a loving mother, a doting father and close knit siblings; all while being part of the imperial family. She didn’t even believe it was a horrible tragedy when her mother passed away, because the woman had prepared her for it, she had told her daughter she would someday leave her, but it was okay, because she would always be with Annistyn, such as her mother had been with her, and her mother before her.
By Morgan Starkey2 years ago in Fiction
Image of Regret
Tawnee walked into her bedroom from the hall, using the hand not holding up her towel she shielded her eyes from the light streaming in from her opened curtains. She squinted as she walked to the closet and pushed back a brightly colored jumpsuit for the dark sweater and ripped jeans, she preferred these days. She knew she would eventually face the disappointment of her mother when she entered the kitchen, but she’d been living with that for almost four years now. As soon as she was fully dressed, she wrapped her long brown hair into the towel and shut the door to her closet, missing the flash of something in the mirror that hung on the sliding door.
By Morgan Starkey2 years ago in Fiction
I Go Back To Childhood
My childhood wasn’t something I am proud of or happy to remember. It was a revolving door of scenes, pictures and mini movies that haunt my mind. The majority was spent in my mother’s trailer, a thin white stretch of house with black trim. For part of my life there was a blue shed falling apart in the back yard, and then later there was one built off to the side of the yard, that protective plastic on the wood never taken off and starting to peel as years went by. There was a little blue dog house with black shingles that housed the best friend I had ever known as a child. You would see a smaller version of me climbing all over that dog at any point, clutching his fur while I was huddled inside the small musty smelling wooden house, and I could taste nothing but salty tears. He was always patient though, letting me hold him, and then when I could no longer fit inside, I would sit on the sloped roof and cry, my faithful Max sitting down at my feet and waiting for my sadness to leave. There was another dog, a big boxy rottweiler who let me sit on his not sloped roof and jumped up to comfort me while I cried. Sometimes when I had run outside to cry you could her my mom yelling at me about it, how I had nothing to cry about, I was just being dramatic; can you feel those words pierce my heart like I can?
By Morgan Starkey2 years ago in Confessions
The Farewell
It’s a harsh summer evening when Emily gives us the news of her departure. We’re just a group of lanky teenagers sitting on the bank of the river, but the most important thing to us is each other. She prepared a going away present for all of us, something to remember her by. She gives it to me last, pushing back her wild brown curls and pressing something from her equally sweaty hand into mine; I am reminded again of why I don’t want her to leave. We don’t stay much longer after that, and everyone is a mess of sticky sweat and tears while we say goodbye for the last time to Emily. I open my hand on the way home, not wanting to see the gift when I could spend my time looking at her and find a little green gem, wrapped in wire and hung on a thick black string.
By Morgan Starkey2 years ago in Pride