Fluffy Cookies

A Posting of Short Stories Part 3

Poison Control ( III):​

It burned as it went down. The acid-cyanide mix. There were tears in my eyes as it continued to roll down my throat. I couldn’t stop. I wanted to die. JUST LET ME DIE!
“Dawn?! What are you doing?!” My father shouted. I gulped down the rest of the glass. Nothing happened. Nothing. I began to cry more while I dropped to my knees.
“Why didn’t it work?” I question in a quiet voice. “Why won’t it work?” He cradled me in his arms, hushing me as my sobs grew more shaky…

The Newest Shortest Short Story IN THE WORLD! ( IV):​

Stop. Wait. Go.

Don’t Look Back ( V):​

He ran. Away from the fire. Away from all he knew. With him, a friend. Someone who pulled him away from the danger. Who protected him when he couldn’t protect himself.
A girl. Small, but mighty. Her eyes were bluer than the blue sky in the middle of June, and hair more golden than the necklace on her collarbone. She didn’t speak. She didn’t utter a word. Her face was concentrated ahead of her.
They didn’t stop until they were deep into the woods. It was dark. But they could see the stars above. He looked toward the way they came from. But she placed a hand on his cheek to make him look at her instead. Her blue eyes shimmered with the moonlight and it seemed like they glowed.
“Don’t look back,” she spoke. He was taken aback when he heard her voice. It sounded like an angel’s voice. Like a beautiful hymn. She had never spoken to him before, nor ever since he knew her.
“Okay,” he whispered, nodding his head…

A Posting of Short Stories Part 2

Petals and Thorns ( II):​

She couldn’t hear. She didn’t see. She wasn’t in control.
“Evy? Evy, talk to me!” Harris called out to her. Evelyn did no such thing. Her eyes were completely white, as if they had rolled back into her head. Her hair was matted like it hasn’t been brushed in weeks. How could someone so beautiful, so kind, become so scary and evil?
“She won’t come back,” a dark figure, in the corner, told him. “Not unless you die!” With a maniacal laugh from the being, Evelyn lunged at her best friend, knife in hand. Harris dodged this and rolled away. Again, she lashed out with the blade. But this time, she caught him in between the lungs. Her smile was menacing as she stuck the knife further into his flesh. Blood was already seeping on his white shirt and coming up his throat. The figure disappears.
Evelyn twists the blade with no effort whatsoever. Normally, she wouldn’t be able to do something like this. But the influence of the being made her stronger. Harris screams. Somehow, the scream brought Evelyn back to reality. Her eyes became colored once again and they began to tear up.
“Harris?” She squeaked out. “Harris?!” He only sputtered as she caught him in her arms. They sank to the floor. “No, no, no, no, no! Don’t close your eyes!”
“Evy…” he trailed off.
“I-I’m so s-sorry I-I-” she was cut off.
“I kn-know… N-Not y-your fault.” His smile was a ghost on his face as his life drifted away…

A Posting of Short Stories Part 1

Monster ( I):​

He looked at me like I was something to eat. Like I was a piece of cake, sitting there. Waiting. He had blacker than black hair, dark-red eyes, and skin so pale, it was almost paper-white. I shifted in my seat uncomfortably, stealing nervous glances at him. I could feel my eyes tear up a little. He scoots closer to me until I can feel his breath on my neck.
“Hello, darling,” he spoke, voice raspy, in a near whisper. I felt myself cringe. He raises a hand to my cheek, nails like claws against my perfect face. His tongue whips out like a snake, grazing my ear and causing me to shiver. The tears finally rolled down my cheeks as the black saliva dripped. I couldn’t speak. I only whimpered in terror. “Oh, don’t cry. You will only suffer for eternity.” Eternity? Was there no end to this? This made me squirm to get out of his grip. But I couldn’t escape. I couldn’t move. It was as if I were wrapped in slimy, disgusting cords. I was helpless…

​

A Posting of Poems Part 2

Ideas:

We have ideas.
They are good ones.
They are bad ones.
They are thoughts.
I think about many things from us:
Stories;
Emotions;
People;
More stories.
Even the ideas are things you come up with upon a shuttle bus.
Things that are opinions.
Things that are facts.
They can be small or tall.
But most of all,
Things that belong to you.
And I respect that.
I don’t Copywrite.
Neither do you.
I don’t plagiarize.
It’s not very wise.
They are yours.
They are mine.
They are ideas.

The Art of My Mind:
Lots of things on my mind that I can just type down. But if I do, there’s always a chance someone will read my thoughts, and get ideas about me. I don’t want that. So, I just turn my thoughts into a story. A story where I can do whatever I want. Where people don’t know what I’m thinking about. What Is going on in my head. It’s all going to be in the head of the character I make up. In the head of Snow-Marie. In the mind of Eloise. The life of Emma Fynch. Or even the thoughts of Pandora. My thoughts are their thoughts. But the readers don’t know that. It is only the ideas of the characters. Now you know how I am...

A Posting of Poems Part 1

Goodbye (In which I wrote in 8th grade for my dear Grandfather):

I don't get what people see when they look over the rainbow.
Where are those blue birds that soar so high?
Those audacious blue birds in that sunny, cloudless, blue sky?

I don't know.

But all I can see right now are the darkened clouds hanging over my head.
And the rain is just pouring down on me.

Then I think: What's the point of those rainbows when you're not around?

You know, it seems like yesterday when you tried to take my nose.
And you'd laugh and tell us jokes like you always did.

Yet, it also seems like yesterday when our mom, your daughter, rushed us to the hospital.
And you left this world in a room not too far away, not even an hour later.

We cried for you.

I cried mostly because I didn't get to tell you that word everyone dreads when parting reluctantly.
The one word I never hoped to say one day alone.
I'm sorry, Grandpa, I never got the chance to tell you, to say to you, that sorrowful word: "Goodbye."

Ode to Summer (A Sonnet):

I like the summer season very well.
The coy come up to eat in our pretty pond.
The fresh-cut grass is a pleasant smell.
The warm summer heat I am quite fond.
Birds chirp loudly in the forest’s trees.
And when it’s hot, I swim in a lake.
Or in Hawaii, in the great seas.
And at a barbeque, I eat steak.
In the sky, I see the shining sun.
I throw into the river, some rocks.
I love the summer, it’s so much fun.
But I dare not wish for chicken-pox.
Every year, I collect a shell.
Every year, before the leaves fell.

Time:

Things change over time
Like the sky and the weather
Things like you and I

I JUST POSTED A NEW RP IS ANYONE WANTS TO JOIN!!!
It's the QftIM thing. lol I love that story.