Young Adult
Fantasizing
I'm stuck on my first impression of Sara J. Maas's iconic Rhysand [Ree-sand] character from A Court of Thorns and Roses. I was entranced by this character throughout the end of the book. I wanted to know so much more about his but I was completely content not-knowing anything. He was perfect the way he was shrouded in mystery. After doing a little bit of research I found an interesting meaning to the name: "bringer of dark power", which the United States and Australia agree on and it's of English Origin. Names.org actually reports that from 1880 to 2019, 6 babies have been given this first name. That stat jumped to 6 in 2019 alone. Can someone just scream cultists at the top of their lungs? I love the fictional character, but the meaning? Did they really think twice before putting that on a birth certificate? I'm getting a real Anti-Christ vibe from these little minions.
J. L. CrossPublished 3 years ago in Fictionthings aren't as they always seem
Day 1,926. Still no electricity. I have, however, successfully managed to conjure up a solution to the repugnant water crisis. At least you don’t need lights to live. Glass half full approach much? Well, with the sun setting for the day, I’ll take this win for having clean water.
Brione StephensonPublished 3 years ago in FictionExcavation of an Eight-Pocket
By the time Petunia Gomight reached the age of forty-four, she’d survived seven different wars on three different planets; Aur, Mordere, and Earth. Aur’s troubles began when solar flares from the red dwarf named Ictus burned away the surface of her home, leaving nothing but the connected subterranean complex that stretched from one part of Aur to the next. It wasn’t all so bad until the planet Mordere introduced a destabilizing agent that would further destroy Aur’s ability to grow food. Hunger spread in the places solar flares couldn’t reach, and when Aur was at her weakest, Mordere moved in and claimed the scorched planet as their own for the sole reason it would give them another seat in the Celestial Legislature. Petunia was barely an adult, but she fought alongside her scattered family, her brothers, sisters, cousins, aunts, uncles, and more. Petunia, always the pragmatic one, drove herself deeper into Aur’s crust until she resurrected herself with an army only spoken of through myth.
M. J. LukePublished 3 years ago in FictionA Matter of Affinity
"You will be wonderful," Amara's parents and teachers would coo. Every test and application told her she was in the top percentile of even the top one percent. Every award whispered with the promise that she was going to make a great life for herself, all born out of the success she was so likely to gain.
Jillian SpiridonPublished 3 years ago in FictionWon't
There’s a bright streak of red trying to pierce the ashen grey of the clouds, flashing hints of crimson as they shift across the sky.
Cerys LathamPublished 3 years ago in FictionJack and Jhillika
Jhillika stood by the open window and looked into the street below. Her eyes darted from shadow to shadow, looking for movement. In a city that once was bustling with life, even at night, the only thing moving was the occasional rat. The moon was bright, casting shadows on the piles of rubble and burned out cars. Across the street was a dead oak tree in an abandoned lot and something was moving along a branch. When it stopped she could see it was a cat with white patches on its face. It sat on the branch, motionless, peaceful. She recognized it as one she had made friends with a while back. She would often leave tidbits for it when she could. It reminded her of a kitten she had when her family lived in Mumbai.
Stryker OstafewPublished 3 years ago in FictionGolden Skies
“Come on, move!” Lina shoved her way through the crowd, ducking into an alleyway. Laughter rang out, telling her that her younger sister wasn’t far behind. She slumped against the cool stone wall, taking shelter behind a trashcan. Out of breath, she turned to her sister. “Did we lose them?”
Sophia KnauerPublished 3 years ago in FictionGalilea
“Shhhh…” my mother warns me, pressing one long finger against her lips. I curl myself into a tighter ball inside of my hiding place, not daring to breathe until the whirring sirens of the sentinels are long gone. Once the coast is clear, I emerge from the damp closet beneath the stairs, and allow myself a little exhale of relief. But even though I’m safe for now, I can never truly enjoy a worry-free breath. There is always the fear of being captured lurking in the back of my mind.
Kora GreenwoodPublished 3 years ago in FictionSubfloor Six
Jocelyn opened her eyes, awoken from her afternoon nap by the chirping of an alert over the intercom. “Attention all Age 13-15 Apprentices: You are to report to Subfloor Six. Be prepared for inspection.” The metallic voice clicked off, leaving her in a silence that could only be achieved within the thick, stone walls. They eat echoes.
Emily McGuffPublished 3 years ago in FictionThe First Born
Lena watched the fall colors pour in through the window and dance on the paint-chipped walls. The sun was coming up already, but she hadn’t slept at all. How could she? Today was October 1, 2035, her fourteenth birthday and the day they would come for her.
Gelena Nicole BrownPublished 3 years ago in FictionThe Farm
I remember the last time that I saw her alive. I was standing on the observation deck, trailing behind my father and his colleagues; they were talking business. Business that was also my business, yet I didn’t care for it. I didn’t so much care for the logistics of the farm, or where they found the stock; I cared about how they were treated, or more so, how they deserved to be treated. To my father and his peers, the humans on the farm were nothing more than cattle, but to me, they were people. Just like us, minus the fangs. They were stronger than us, fighting the effects of the vaccine, yet we deemed ourselves superior in order to harvest their blood.
Inheritance
From inside the lavish penthouse of their Ocean Drive condo, the family was treated to a glorious view of a perfect summer’s afternoon. On one side, the waves exhaled deeply onto South Beach, licking it smooth and leaving behind trails of white foam as they retreated shyly into the Atlantic. Bright, rainbow-colored parasols dotted the sand like pinwheels, under which one might lie back and waste an hour, or an eternity, if one just had the time. Only a single distant cloud and the faraway silhouettes of three birds interrupted the open expanse of the sky.
Eric FreedmanPublished 3 years ago in Fiction