Young Adult
Zombie
Whenever I had watched horror movies of serial killers or war movies that the people fight with swords. There is always so much blood and gore. I absolutely love it. Well Mark and I do. Alice, not so much. But this was different. My hands trembled, I now felt the pain in my arms from swinging the metal pipe over and over. It was like I just did one thousand push-ups. I couldn’t lift my arms. My body was covered in this person, blood, skin, an eyeball. There was a mirror in the gym room we were in. I looked at myself. I didn’t see the same kid looking back. The same kid with brown eyes, black messy hair, with a goofy smile, and a slim body. No this was a different person. I had never seen it before. The blood slowly dripped down my bare chest to my jeans. When I lifted my foot off the ground it was simply dripping of the blood that is now covering me. I looked to the corner where Alice was staring at me. Her clothing was ripped, her pointy nose was broken, and her long dirty hair had dirt, oil and now blood in it. Even though she looked different than when I first met her. I looked down at the corpse that was once a classmate. I knew then at that moment. The world is not going to be the same anymore.
By Daniel Chow - Hale5 years ago in Fiction
Nowhere But Here
I was drowning. It was a dream, but it was vivid. I felt the water getting inside my lungs, for a second thought about crying, but there were no tears in my eyes, just around me, an ocean of sorrows and regrets, was being swallowed by it, suddenly I woke up.
By W. A Faraday5 years ago in Fiction
Monsters: Chapter 5
The darkness was only broken by the beams of moonlight that shone through the thickness of trees above, Curtis stepping out from the shadows, the gleam of his slick leather jacket reflecting the nightly rays and making him glow somewhat in the quietness of night.
By Sam Averre 5 years ago in Fiction
All Your Broken Pieces
Summer way outside the city brought with it the promise of peaches and late nights spent in the fields. Laughter fluttered along with the whistle of corn stalks brushing against each other. The kids in town always brought with them packs of beer—the older folks overlooked the fake IDs because they too had once been young—before finally settling underneath a blanket of stars. Somewhere between childhood and adolescence, they had forgotten the wonder of pointing out the constellations that couldn't be mistaken as the lights from airplanes.
By Jillian Spiridon5 years ago in Fiction
The Woman Who Murdered Me
We had been trudging through this godforsaken river for the last twenty eight hours. Well, our team has anyway. I had spent fifteen hours wading through the different rapids yesterday before Captain Harding had sent me home. I had came back as soon as the eight hours in which he "didn't want to see my face" had ended. I had spent five hours since trying not to slip on one of the many loose rocks at the bottom and fall on my ass. My partner, Montag, bless his heart, has been with me every step of the way, despite his newborn baby at home. This case has been a rough one, but he understands. It's all been worth it in the end, though. We have found at least three different sets of human remains, and more turn up every other hour or so now. I know that's something incredibly morbid to be excited about, but it just means that I was right. I haven't done a good job about hiding my smugness about it either. Montag hasn't failed to mock me about it every time it sets into my face. I'm normally not a talker. I tend to listen, nod, and keep my comments to myself. Montag has been my partner for almost ten years now though, ever since we were beat cops. He knows what each of my faces mean, not that the ridiculous smirk that's been plastered on my face since the first body was found wasn't obvious enough.
By Isabella Flores5 years ago in Fiction
Suzanne Ford Presents 'Black Rocks and Rainbows'
Welcome to Kreative Circle Suzanne! Black Rocks and Rainbows is a historical novel for young adults penned by your mother Susan Riford, a prolific author of children’s books and plays and founder of what is now known as the Rev Theatre Company in Auburn, New York. What can you share about your mother’s personality and her affinity for writing educational pieces of work?
By Kreative Circle (KreativeCircle.com)5 years ago in Fiction
This land is your and my land.
The first days of spring created an atmosphere of hope. The sunlight arose, the dew droplets dripped, and the land started to soak in the warmth from the sun. Winter had come, winter had passed, and the harshest blizzard storms had ceased their callous and bitter rage against the land. The land seemed blessed in all that it did, and it was prosperous in bearing its fruit. I strolled through the meadows as per usual every morning. A little walk through the land itself before the labors of today would start. A tree bearing fruit was always along the end of the pathway. It was a pear tree, and it had the most delicious pears I had ever tasted.
By Jordan Zuniga5 years ago in Fiction
The Hostel Hero
In 2017 I felt like I needed an attention seeking, “oh everybody look at me” life-changing experience. An experience so life changing that I summoned up all the courage I had stored up in my plump body and found myself “soul searching” in a country very similar to my Australian home - Canada. Both countries are English speaking, both possess residents with laid back attitudes and both are part of The Commonwealth. If I was going to take this giant leap out of my comfort zone, why not make it the most seamless, albeit cowardice, transition as possible?
By James Edward5 years ago in Fiction
