Your too skinny You can’t be that fat You need to fit in Don’t do that your being too loud You need to be neat A lady
You need to cut away that part Make yourself perfect No mistakes ever
You need to be pleasing to the eye But don’t ask for it or you will just become a “Distraction” You need to smooth out all mistakes
You are ugly You need makeup You should smile more Why should I smile in a world like this.
This is not the prompt.
I never had the desire to be a hero, you see. I'd rather take a step back and let someone else take the spotlight unless it concerned my family. The Fairlights were known for loving rarely, but we loved for a lifetime when we did. That day, I woke up to a cobalt blue sky and my mother's whistling. The brisk knock on our door interrupted our breakfast. My father stood up to answer it. A tall, burly army officer was standing at our doorstep. "Mr. and Mrs. Fairlight?" he asked. "That's us," my father's voice cracked. "In a recent degree, the king has ordered one tribute from each family." The word "tribute" sent shivers down my spine. A tribute was supposed to be a gift to show respect, but in reality, it was just another way to throw more humans into the infected maw of war. "I will go," my brother, my beloved Jeremiah, spoke up. Part of me wanted to shrink away and let Jere be the hero. This was the part I had always led with, the blind part. "No, I will," I spoke up, my voice barely above a whisper. My family gave me a hard look. "But you're a girl," the soldier's scornful voice lit a spark in me. Deep inside my heart, something ignited. Maybe I had always been the gentle girl, the kind one, but I also pushed Lucie Clave into the river for breaking my brother's heart. "The degree only states tribute. Boy or girl," I looked him in the eyes, challenging him. "Fine, show up at the town square tomorrow. Why should I care?" he finished his sentence with a careless shrug as if it didn't matter whether a silly girl lived or died. He turned and walked out without another word. "Beatrice, what in the blazes were you thinking?" Jere rushed up to me. "I-I..." My thoughts started to spiral. I breathed in and out rapidly, and the edges of my vision started to fade to black. I ran and ran, needing to escape. My skirts flew behind me in a cloud and I raced to the only place I had ever felt safe. The tree was just as I remembered it, with thick, mossy branches and a root rising from the ground. I sat down next to the root and breathed in its earthy scent. I closed my eyes and let sleep whisk me away. When I woke up, the sun was high in the sky. I blinked and stretched. I brushed off my skirts and started to wander. I wound through willows and oaks, the dappled sunlight playing on my arms. I stepped out of the woods and looked at my family's farm. The valleys were full of wheat and corn, and the small garden was full of colorful fruits and vegetables, a rainbow of produce. Panic flooded through me, I would never retread this path, for all, I knew in a few days I would be dead. “Bea,” I whirled around to see my mother, clutching a parcel in her grasp. Her hair was a messy tumble wavy auburn locks. I raced to her and hugged her. She smelt like lavender and I squeezed her tight. “Bea, my darling-” I cut her off, “Jeremiah, just couldn’t go to the war, he’s too kind and gentle. But, I can’t kill people Mama, I can’t. All I could think about was Jere’s body dead and it just made me volunteer. But Mama I’m too weak to do this, I don’t know what I was thinking, ” My voice wobbled and I clung tighter to her. “Oh, it ok, it ok.” Mama rubbed my back. “I have something for you, I hope it will help you be brave, my darling.” She pressed the long package into my hands, then turned. I peeled away the layers of fabric, to reveal a sword. It was beyond gorgeous, there was no word for it, the blade was dark silver, and encrusted into the blade were 4 miniature stones, the color of the heather that blanketed the moor. The hilt was silver as well and had a small design, of a wildflower. It wasn’t just the craftsmanship of the blade, that awed me, it was the power that seemed to whisper through the air and, it soothed me. The pain that had filled me just moments before evaporated
We knew we were different We lived in a city The quilt we called it Patches of this The parks were still green And the building like steel But everything was a jumble Hospitals in parks And schools in hospitals It was like a fake broken world But we loved it all the same We lived our quilt We loved the patches We loved being different
“Lucy, I was the one who spread that horid rumor about you,” The second the words came out of my mouth I regretted it. “Zoe it was you.” The way she hissed you broke my heart. “Yes. I’m sorry I was angry, I made a mistake.” Lucy glared at me and I shrank inside myself. “Mistake?!? You have been my best friend for 5 years. 5 years! This last year has been pure torture because of you and your nasty little rumor.” She marched away and I slumped in my seat. For the redt of the day all I could think about was that look on her face.
Lu Lucy Please Call me We NEED to talk LUCY!!! Im sorry Please Please
My text remin unopened and my heart emty. I was mad at Lucy for becoming closer friends to the new girl Stella. Now Stella was my friend too in a way. When I told everyone that Lucy cheated on the big history test my mind was twisted. I had know how to hurrt her and I did.
Lucy, I was wrong so wrong. You are still the smartest person I know. You didn’t cheat.
I pressed send, praying for a response.
I can’t just let this slid.
I blink and quickly text back.
We have been through so much we can get through this.
No, I can try but.. I cant help but hate you a little bit
I told you I still love you
You broke my life. You broke EVERYTHING. Why can’t you see that?
I do I truly do Please wer can go back to being friends right? I hated you but we stepped past that.
Talk tomorrow…
Should I do a part 2?
Arabella- The dress was beautiful and it seemed wrong. The dress was black with flowers embroidered in black thead. “Arabella are you ready.” I hadn’t even put the dress on. Wearing the dress would mean accepting the death. It would mean saying it happened.
Kira- I got the phone call late at night so I knew something was wrong. “Kir.” “Anna? Whats wrong” “Mom.” “Is she ok” “Moms dead Kir shes dead.” “What. I never even got to say goodbye. She can’t be dead.” “She is…”
“If we get caught, Lizzie, we tell them the truth.” Lizzie looked at me. “But we agreed to lie.” I turned the car into the graveled driveway and looked at her. “What you ever d do .” My sister looked at me with her big blue eyes. I can see the confusion written on her face. “Lizzie, they have a way to see if we are lying. If we get caught don’t lie.” I whispered. I grab my belt of daggers and hand Lizzie’s sharp short sword to her ”In and then out.” She wispers. We enter the manor house silently. The doors are unlocked and we slip in. We enter the foray and hold each other tightly.
I stood on the beach my hand in yours My heart synced To the beat of I am yours You never really loved me like I did Now I see but before I was naive I smiled looking at you Your brown windswept hair and your eyes Oh so blue We have to go you said No, I must stay Then you turned and we fought some more A silly thing now I see But it seemed so prominent I needed to stay safe in your arms No more problems But you left me on the beach Alone Alone Alone So we stepped into the dawn Forever changed A new dawn a new day No more beaches no more cheer But now I do see how I was naive How I was weak and gullible you see.
Many people visit museums to be dazzled by many exhibits on display. They come to breathe in the scent of thousands of artists. However, my museum is different. Despite having only one painting and one room, people still line up around the block to visit it. Once inside, they gaze at the painting of my grandmother, who is depicted wearing a black mourning gown. She looks at the viewer with a raw expression of pain and sadness. This is what draws people to my unusual museum. They want to catch a glimpse of the pain and heartache that they may experience one day.
