Story Ideas
- Locked due to inactivity on Aug 4, '16 4:28pm
Thread Topic: Story Ideas
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Post stories here! This is just for exposure and comments, reviews, etc., so you don't have to worry about people copying your work.
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She was odd. She was different, even for a Dark Dweller. She wanted to leave. Her friends, if she had any, didn't understand why.
Why.
She knew it was impossible. Only one man had ever escaped before. And that was before they had soldiers patrolling the border. He was why. Since his escape, the empire had done everything within their ability to eradicate all evidence of his existence. But she knew. She had found his memory.
She wanted to go to the Light.
She was the only one who loved the idea of the Light. She was the only one who looked forward to the last day of each week, when the School would tell stories of the Light. Some would be traumatized by the tales. -
The School knew not of the man. They told the tales because they were told to. They students, teachers, and even the headmistress thought they were to tell the stories so that they could make the Dark communities as different from the Light as possible.
She knew this was crap.
They told the stories to discourage escape. But the School was not aware of the existence of the escaped.
She would have been horrified of the Light, if the stories had been true. But she was familiar with the workings of the King's mind. She was able to separate the filling of falsehood and see the truth. -
This is why she looked forward to the lesson.
The teachers were unsettled by her seeming joy at the time of the class, but they were tools. They were told to report any unusual findings, so they reported. The next week, she didn't go to the stories.
She was to be locked in a closet.
Her peers may have been interested in why she didn't go, or perhaps they were just as unsettled as the teachers. Whatever the case, she knew why. The entire point of the class was to inspire fear of the light, and to discourage escape. Others were ignorant, but she knew.
They took her out because she wanted to escape.
She didn't know how.
But she was going to escape. -
More coming soon. Please comment.
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Be harsh.
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Feedback please.
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He hadn't seen her in nearly a decade. Her long black hair flowed down her back like it always had and her dark eyes were harder than usual. Yet something had changed about her. Something he knew he didn't want to know about.
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I love it Celia.
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Thanks. It was just an idea. I have the full version. I can post it if you want, but I have to make a few edits.
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I love your story too. Sound very interesting.
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Thank you, please do post the full version, I am invested now.
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You may be confused, I typed two paragraphs on my dad's phone so you missed some. Sorry.
It may seem as if she would have attracted much attention from her peers, but aside from a few odd glances during the special classes, or perhaps a look from a new student towards the closet where he cries could be heard, there was little to no interest in the girl. The near opposite was true of the School at first. There where some home visits, but when nothing seemed to be done, it was dealt with solely at school. There were inquiries, and she was excluded from any event that even remotely mentioned the Light. No heed was paid by the teachers or her peers as she was carried, screaming, to the closet in which she was locked. Thus, in time, she stopped the mannerisms, it was of no use.
The home visits, no matter what the reason, did not help in the slightest. In fact, it sometimes promoted the girl's behavior. This may appear as if her parents shared her feelings, or possibly just loved their daughter far too much to even doubt her sanity, but this is not the case. They thought her insane, and thought it best to distance themselves from her, for their own mental health.
How, one may ask, was she able to determine what was true in the stories of the Light? It may be that she simply practiced the art so much that it was easy. While yes, she was often able to distinguish such in all writings, it was not as precise as in those of the Light. For, all of the stories were changed by the same person. She was much more familiar with the mind of the king, or whomever wrote the tales. To the girl, it was clear that the writer was a single person, and that person knew the true stories. In time, the girl's mind became so familiar with that of the writer, that her mind immediately processed the narratives that the author had tried so hard to cover up. -
By the way, I have a prologue to the story, about the man who escaped. And I know it's whoever, not whomever: typo.
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One of them was normal. One of them was not. Juliet had known that since the days she had learned to walk and talk. Her sister was just not a ordinary person. Juliet, of course, was. She was average height, average weight, and had average intelligence. There was certainly nothing special about her.
Arielle, on the other hand, was completely different. She was fairly slim, not too much, but when she stood on a scale, it read only five pounds. The doctor was confused. Arielle had gone through several checkups before the doctors realized that she was a healthy fifteen-year-old girl with no other problem than being far too light for her size.
She had jet-black hair that grew at least three feet overnight. Her hair had to be cut daily or else she would've darker-haired version of Rapunzel. No one could figure out why that happened.
Arielle's eyes were a shocking lime green color. Many people found it creepy and never looked her in the eye for more than a few seconds. Once, an old man had even fainted at the sight. Slowly though, over the years, most people had gotten used it. Except the unlucky tourists who had never seen such a sight before. They, too, fell unconscious at the eerie appearance.
Juliet hated to admit it, but she was jealous of her older sister. It was Arielle who got all the attention, Arielle who her mother fussed over, and Arielle who attracted tons of boys. Especially Dave Wilson, who was Juliet's crush since first grade. Oddly, the only boy Arielle didn't fascinate was Jonathan Myers, Arielle's own crush. Jonathan Myers liked JULIET!
It was all totally confusing. Arielle's crush liked Juliet, and Juliet's crush liked Arielle. However, that was not the biggest of the girls' problems.
Arielle had disappeared during the start of the previous summer, returning at the end. Juliet and her parents had been so worried. They had badgered Arielle about where she had been, but she had refused to say anything. The only thing that Juliet knew was that her sister had done things. Arielle was more serious, more cautious, and stronger. Of course, that only raised more curiosity. Still yet, Arielle had refused to say a word.
"Juliet!"
Juliet snapped out of her daydream. "Yes, Mrs. Moore?"
"Have you been paying attention to anything I've been saying for the past fifteen minutes?" the middle-aged history teacher demanded.
"No, ma'am," Juliet admitted, opening her textbook. "It won't happen again. I'll pay more attention to you."
Mrs. Moore continued the stand by Juliet's desk with her hands on her hips. "Why, your sister was never this much trouble. Always quiet, always alert, always turning in her work correctly."
Juliet rolled her eyes. Mrs. Moore was just another one of Juliet's teachers who talked on about Arielle and how wonderful a student she had been. "You wouldn't love her so much if you knew about the grades she's been getting this past semester," she muttered under her breath.
"What that?" Mrs. Moore snapped.
"Nothing, ma'am," Juliet said, twirling a lock of her brown hair around one finger. "Just talking to myself."
"Young lady, I assigned a paper about the Revolutionary War five minutes ago for homework. I let the class work on it now, but since you were not paying attention, I will make your paper due by the time the bell rings. If you are not done, you will have detention."
Juliet opened her mouth to protest, but Mrs. Moore cut her off.
"I am sorry, but there must be a punishment for such naughty behavior."
Naughty? Juliet thought. How is not paying attention in class naughty?
Instead, she sighed and said, "Yes, ma'am."
Mrs. Moore, apparently satisfied, went off the lecture another student, her short brown hair swinging behind her.
Juliet sighed again. No way was she going to be able to finish an entire paper in one class period. And her brother James was going to tease her again for getting into trouble. She sighed once more and took out a fresh piece of paper.
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