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Anonymous Rose
I’m not good at writing. Criticism welcome!
![Anonymous Rose](/_next/image?url=https%3A%2F%2Ffirebasestorage.googleapis.com%2Fv0%2Fb%2Fprompt-6db57.appspot.com%2Fo%2Fusers%252FJfphpFC3gghf2wX45eCr5qy9anF2%252Fprofile_image_128x128.jpg%3Falt%3Dmedia%26token%3Dc52c4878-4a3a-49ee-9435-893a9d33dd52&w=256&q=75)
Anonymous Rose
I’m not good at writing. Criticism welcome!
I’m not good at writing. Criticism welcome!
I’m not good at writing. Criticism welcome!
Oh my provolone. There- what... I recognise all of them, all the people... But I’ve never seen them.
‘SHUT UP YOU IDIOT!’ A tall girl yelled.
Her name was Laura Queen, and she was... Rude, arrogant, but she had a story. All of these people.. They had a story. MY story. A smaller boy, a small boy the size of a pixie, tried to reason with Laura.
His name was Aqua, and he was transgender. He was...
I blink once. Then twice, thinking I was mad. Then thrice, then I was sure I was awake. There were hundreds, if not thousands, of expectant eyes looking at me, as if they were expecting me to say something. I inwardly swore as I saw a large banner with a name that wasn’t mine and a subtitle of ‘The meaning of life’. These were my sister’s fans; she was a famous philosopher.
Then a voice - my sis...
Rosalind clawed through her hair, making an odd, uneven crisscross. She groaned; she had spent so much time making sure it was perfect this morning. Rosa threw her hair back, tapping her foot in time to the honey-coated voice of the receptionist. Her voice was angelic, like music. The receptionist was beautiful; Rosa couldn’t help but steal glances at her every second she was distracted. She may h...
Echoes,
Echoing through the walls
Ricochetting off ceilings
The beauty
The life she lived,
Gone.
All in a second.
Lights blink,
They flash
In and out
And soon,
They’ve died down.
Her body lay
In a coffin so big,
Looked at peace,
But the bruises
The scars
They told stories.
The welts,
The scars,
The blood,
On her body,
Showed more than anything.
Even the dead tells stories
And her body told m...
It was petite - petite enough for someone to swallow if they tried hard enough, probably. It was a golden ring, the shape of a star. It was starting to rust, but it used to be iridescent and shiny. It was dotted with corroded fake gemstones, some which had obviously fallen out. The band was still slightly gold-coloured, but was obviously starting to have a hazel tinge. It was worthless in the eyes...
Ingrid stared, wide-eyed, at her mother’s tale. Wow... Her mother, father and sister had narrowly evaded death by some deranged-sounding cult members because of their sheer intellect.
Ingrid, being the inquisitive person she was, was extremely interested, and made a mental note to research the cult members on the Internet and look in their mammoth-sized library to see if there was any mention of...
Ever since I was young, I bottled my emotions. I don’t know why, but it just happens. It’s very difficult for me to express my emotions, even though I know every aspect of human psychology, and even animal psychology.
One day, at school, a new person enrolled in. Their name was Gregory, and, frankly, he was... stunning. Not because of his striking good looks (that all the other girls were goggli...
Beauty, grace, joy,
A light to everyone’s life,
Selfless, loveable, clever,
Someone who everyone loves.
That’s what they see,
But I, the little sister, does not
A nuisance, a pest,
Always droning on and on
About one thing
About another
Something insignificant.
Last week I came home crying
Asking for guidance on bullying
All she said was “Stop whining!
“I have better things to do than to talk to...
“MAYBE!” Poppy snapped at Celeste for what felt like the hundredth time.
“It’s always ‘maybe’,” Celeste replied, her eyes narrowing in frustration,” You’re always conveniently doing something with family! Or work! Or- You get the point! Even teensy little Eloise thinks riding a dragon is OK. Why can’t YOU?”
Poppy hesitated before answering, which was unnoticeable as Celeste was too busy being ir...
Ruth clutched her suitcase, checking her bag, sifting through her things, trying to find her phone so she could call Aaron. Who is Aaron, you may ask.
Aaron is Ruth’s soulmate, the person she had loved. Ruth and Aaron were dating for 5 years, and they had finally got engaged. Aaron was on a plane to Hawaii, where they’d get married. Ruth was still waiting to get on a plane where a man she though...