Writing Prompt

When I walk down the street, not everyone recognizes me. That is a relief.

People who _do_ know of my condition will often stare at me as I pass. Watching me as if I were a mutant freak.

I don’t know, I guess I could be.

If I’m ever wearing anything that shows skin, people will see the scars that I have. They give me similar looks, even if they don’t realize what they’re from.

What makes me so...

Santa Cruz is beautiful.

It’s that city where the sun blankets the sand with that perfect touch of warmth. It’s where the palm tree trunks stretch so high they meet the cloudless sky right in the middle. It’s where all the perfectly tanned girls lay side by side under gigantic umbrellas, laughing at the randomest things.

It’s where my mom took my hand, and we both ran into the royal blue waves...

Would you choose eternal peace and happiness without a hitch?

Would you choose popularity and being infinitely rich?

Between love and fame which one is best?

What would you choose between recognition or eternal rest?

Is it really worth losing who you are?

All because you wanted to be a star?

Would you rather family of fans?

Would you rather singing with family or only with bands?

Would you pick ...

—— This short story is not part of my canon just yet. But it might be. Anyways, enjoy!~ ☆

⚠️ ‼️ ✖︎ IN CASE YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT THE TITLE MEANS, TRIGGER WARNING FOR VIOLENCE AND BLOOD ✖︎‼️ ⚠️

**♪**

Special-effects smoke sprays onto the platform.

Light flash on.

Glitch runs onto the stage, smirking that fanged, vampish smirk that the fans always go crazy for.

**_“_**_Good afternoon, LA!_**_”_*...

As promised, I awakened to a sky so dark I couldn’t help but question if it were truly morning. My bed called to me, begging me to stay wrapped in the warm, cozy embrace of my blanket, and the strong arms of my fiancé. Tempting as it was, I had to decline. Today was a special day, marking ten years since my life changed forever.

As part of the day’s tradition, I prepared a generous helping of scr...

Tragedy made me famous

But really more infamous

Death of the other

Someone like a brother

Trial of a century

But they did not convict me

Instead I became loved

While some other shoved

But I’m still here

All of you should fear...

I can hear my breathing, heavy and panicked. I don’t know where I am. I try to open my eyes but it’s dark. I’m blindfolded.

The material is thick and scratchy on my face. A piece of cotton is making my mouth dry. It’s hard to breathe.

Tingling shoots down my legs as my body starts to come to. I try to move but I can’t. I’m restrained.

I start to panic, my chest is tight as I hyperventilate a...

I don’t know how to begin this “little” tale of mine; it feels as if I’m making a joke out of the situation by calling it “little,” but that’s what everyone in my life refers to it as. That’s only because they weren’t present when it happened; I don’t expect second-handers to understand, anyway.

Everyday I wake up and hate myself. The mirrors that I used to stare in, dolling myself up with a joyo...

It was never supposed to work. She was never supposed to… die…

But the injuries were too great. Too much blood spilled.

Now she’s dead. And it’s all my fault.

Dahlia and I shared the stage at the theater downtown. God, was she talented. Always securing the leading role, embodying each character with effortless grace and a radiant smile. Her tanned skin and curly blonde hair, a beautiful chaos, ...

It was 9pm on a Thursday, Emilia was in a car on her way to another late-night show interview.

Blood spatter on the counter, a pen knife on the floor, sirens in the distance.

This marked the 5th one she had done in the past month. Tomorrow, she had a morning show and Saturday she had a meeting with a publisher on a book opportunity.

The person behind in her line was dead, the contents of their ...