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hey!! do you still come on GL anymore or not? i miss you
furryanimallover on 10/24/2009 12:20:53 PM
Hey, writerchickwithfeelings and all other writers out there in GL... this is my story. Please read it and comment back on my profile. If you like it then I will continue it. Thanks!
“Kendra! This is such a cute outfit. It, like, totally makes your legs look so long!” Caitlin, my best friend who I secretly hate, squealed.
“Um…thanks?” I said. I was short. 5 foot 2 at age fourteen. My legs weren’t long. I got mistaken for a ten-year old all the time.
“You have to buy it. It makes you look so cute.”
I looked at the price tag on the outfit. $324! Yes, that’s right. THREE-HUNDRED AND TWENTY-FOUR DOLLARS! “It’s a lot of money, Cait.” I said. Her parents have a lot, a lot, of money, and she thinks absolutely nothing of whipping out her platinum American Express card and scanning herself a new outfit. My family isn’t having a hard time with money, but the economy’s bad and they want me to learn ‘the value of a dollar’ so they make me pay for everything with my babysitting jobs. I don’t mind, except for when I’m on these stupid mall trips with my horrible best friend.
Caitlin gave me that look, the same one when I told her I didn’t have nine pairs of Ugg Boots, or when I bought knock-off designer clothes. Even when I couldn’t afford a cookie at lunch last year. Her whole world revolved around money.
“Lee dee dee aaah oo ooo ooo.” The opening chords to one of the hottest new songs crooned from my Target brand purse. I flipped open my second-hand cell phone. I looked on the Caller ID screen pressed ‘Talk.’
Someone, a girl, was gasping for air and sobbing on the other end to the phone.
“Hey, Kendra, you…you gotta ‘sniff’ get down here now. P-please. I’m, he…” she sobbed and took a deep breath. “Come to my house, okay Kendra?”
“What is it, E? What happened?” I said. But she had already hung up.
chesterkona on 9/20/2009 5:29:43 PM
I'm chesterkona and I think you are an awesome writer. I bet you could write a book. I like to write too - do you ever enter any of those writing contests?
Please comment back on my profile!
chesterkona on 9/20/2009 1:06:45 AM
Who is andres in your story??? Give me some back ground info!!!!?????
sunnyd1 on 8/6/2009 3:25:08 PM
oh cool! r u a member of any clubs? (which i really don't get how u can have a club online but whatevs)
so_she_told_me... on 7/12/2009 3:02:09 PM
animalgal on 7/1/2009 8:14:54 PM
heyy gurily i soo love your blog..... xoxo huggs and princes kisses.~*~<3~*~
katie coons on 6/29/2009 3:01:21 AM
candieheartsgirl on 6/23/2009 11:57:08 AM
hey! u probably dont remember me since we havent talked in 4ever!!!!! well im the grl from ihearttwilight17...got a new profile since my old one was being a meanie!well u still seem all cool and stuff and i really like ur blog! its cute...yah well my summer kinda sux but one of my friends is over now and were sharing my profile now!!LOL
peacelovepuppies on 6/22/2009 11:55:34 PM
awwwwwwwww! I luv what you said about Marley and Me!!! That movie was amazing. I cried so much i could have flooded the theater. lol. No really. I culd have! it was sooooooo sad. cuz my dog died when i was nine when i was on vacation. and my dad had to put his lab down just like john and jenny did. it was so sad... *sniffle* did you read the book? I cried even more then!! haha.
djdangerjonasluver on 5/24/2009 2:34:46 PM
once more and then im done:
The fire is at my arms now, singeing the flesh right off of my limbs.
But the only thing that occurs to me is what I’ve done. In the distance, the scream of my used-to-be ally fills the air, heavy with smoke. I try to move; momentarily forgetting about the metal chains cinched to my ankles, and then fall forward. The guard behind my yanks my collar and the air halts in my throat.
The scream is coming closer, so I look up through the mess of hair that adorns my head. I see the girl being held tight by the monsters that inhabit this horrid place. The one that was my friend. The one that I betrayed.
“Julia,” escapes my lips, in a whimper, and I yank my long dark hair behind my back. The pink nightgown I put on so peacefully only 5 hours ago – only five? Seems like forever – is burnt, like my hair.
Right then, Julia whips her head around, blonde hair flying, and faces me. Emotions flash through her eyes like cruel lightning. Recognition. Remembrance. Then what can only be described as hate fills those midnight blue windows to the soul. And right now, her soul is a flame.
“Traitor…” she mouths. “I HATE YOU! NO, NO, DESPISE YOU!!!”
Tears cloud my vision, and fall from my inky black eyes. She’s right. I am a traitor.
Then my best friend is dragged by the wrist out of my sight. I have no idea where she’s going, but I know it isn’t where anyone would want to be.
The…thing behind me cackles evilly, and the only thing I feel is pure guilt and the raw taste of horror and fear.
I deserve to die. And that’s exactly what happens.
purplecrazed on 5/11/2009 10:14:16 PM
WHY WONT MY STORY POST????????
purplecrazed on 5/11/2009 8:26:09 PM
AHHH this is the most frustrating thing EVER!!!
purplecrazed on 5/11/2009 7:51:48 PM
"I don't know what to say..." she started, right before I cute her off.
"Just say thank you. And say that I am the bestest friend you could ever ask for, and the nicest person you have ever met." Carson threw her head back and laughed. I mean, she really laughed.
"Thanks, Beth. You really are the best. I wouldn't trade you for the world." She picked up the Mayday Parade graphic tee that I bought her for graduation, holding it up against her chest. Her blond ringlets fell against it as she tilted her head to get a better look.
I squeezed her knee. "Try it on!" I coasted.
"Sure!" She ran into the bathroom. She didn't like people watching her change, which was a weird habit considering she played varsity soccer for the past three years. A few minutes later, she strutted out in her jeans and that shirt like a runway model showing off the most stunning outfit ever. It was happy to see my friend that excited. Graduation is something to celebrate.
writerchickwithfeelings's blog on 5/9/2009 1:28:17 PM
ur stories are sooo good!!!!!!!!!!!!
i LOOOOOOOOOOOOVE the simile "red and irritated like fire". idk why but it really struck me =D
keep posting plz! i <3 reading them =D
purplecrazed on 5/9/2009 11:03:31 AM
I didn't cry when that guy lost his volleyball Wilson. I didn't cry when Rose realised that Jack had died. I didn't cry a lot when I watch A Walk to Remember.
I cried more than ever watching Marely & Me. What is it about this movie that affects me more than the others?
I suppose it is because the movie is about a dog. I love dogs. I own three, and they are part of my life. Without my dogs, life would be that much harder, that much more depressing. This movie touched my life more than any romance movie because I've never been in lovel but I have loved a dog. I know what it feels like to lose a dog, and I know what it feels like to have a dog as your best friend. I don't know what it feels like to lose the love of your life, or to realize your girlfriend has cancer, or to watch an common volleyball float off into the horizon. I know dogs though.
Life is so precious. Why does it have to end? Naturally, we can't imagine what happens after life on Earth. We can't imagine anything beyond our worldly fears and out human bodies. Naturally though, humans, just like dogs, die.
Death is probably the thing that scares me most.
writerchickwithfeelings's blog on 5/8/2009 10:29:45 PM
omg, is that a true story about Andres? It made my cry... I'm so sorry, girlie...
djdangerjonasluver on 5/7/2009 9:34:48 PM
ok, here's a story I wrote. It probably needs work but here it is anyway. haha. Hope you like it! It's called "When Dreams Come True..."
We’ve all heard the stories. You know, the ones where the girl dreams of meeting her Prince Charming, they fall in love, and live “happily ever after?” Yeah, those stories. But that’s not what happened to me about two years ago… not exactly.
It was my junior year in high school, and I had promised myself that I was going to make that my most memorable year yet. At the time, I had the hugest crush on Ben Sampson. The problem was that so did every other girl in school. He was picture-perfect—good looks, good grades, and the most popular, most athletic guy in the entire school. He set high expectations for his brother, who was year younger, a junior, like me. His name was Zach. He was just as cute as his brother, but he wasn’t into sports. Actually, no one really knew what Zach was into. He was the quiet type who kept to himself except for a close group of friends that he hung sat with at lunch. He usually went unnoticed by most everyone in school, always sinking back into the shadows.
One day I saw a poster up for the school dance coming up. I hoped (okay, wished!) that Ben would finally see the light and ask me to the dance. I watched and analyzed his every move, going where he went, talking to his friends. I didn’t know what exactly I was looking for, but I didn’t give up. I wasn’t a quitter! A few days later when I walked into school, I could tell something was amiss with the girls. They were all on edge, and they all seemed to be giving me harsh glares as I walked by. But why? What did I do to them? I found my answer when I turned down the hallway and headed to my locker. Leaning up against locker 157, my locker, was Ben Sampson. I felt my heart lurch in my chest. Why was he at my locker? That explained the looks, at least. My palms grew sweaty as I took my time walking to my locker. Soon, I was standing right next to him, staring down at my shoes. He was looking at me. I could feel it. My eyes wandered up to his face to find that he had a smile on it. He was gorgeous up close. My heart fluttered again, and I fought to control my breathing.
“Emily,” he said. I gasped internally. How did he know my name?
“Yes?” My voice came out high-pitched and shaky, and I could feel the heat moving up my neck and into my cheeks. Great. Just what I needed. When he didn’t answer, I spoke. “Why are you here, Ben?”
“My parents would notice if I didn’t come to school,” he smiled. Was he trying to be funny?
“I meant at my locker. Shouldn’t you be with Chloe?” Chloe was his girlfriend. The two of them had been together for two years now, and everyone knew it. They were great together.
“Is this your locker?” He said playfully, avoiding my second question.
“Yes, it is,” I answered. I was starting to get kind of annoyed now. “Now, why are you here?”
“Emily,” he said again, “I have a question for you. Do you think you’re up to answering?”
“Try me,” I replied. That had me intrigued. What could Ben Sampson want to ask me?
Ben looked me in the eyes as if he’d done the same thing every day of his life, and I was lost in the middle of the ocean, drowning in the blueness. I snapped from my trance when he sighed and finally spoke.
“I wanted to, uh…” he trailed off.
“You wanted to what?” I urged.
“Ask you to the dance?” It came out as a question, but I didn’t notice because of the whooshing sound rushing by my ears. My knees buckled beneath me, and I leaned on the bank of lockers for support. Ben Sampson just asked me out! Oh my gosh, I couldn’t believe it.
“What’s the matter? Emily?” He asked worriedly.
“Oh. Um.” I stammered.
“So, what’s your answer?”
I managed to mostly recover by then. “Yes, Ben,” I breathed. He grinned a crooked smile and headed off to class so he wouldn’t be late. I, on the other hand, was too astonished to move. The days passed quickly, and before I knew it, the big day had arrived. I had the perfect dress, the shoes to match, a gorgeous hair-do, a fresh mani/pedi, and the perfect date!
Ben picked me up, and we headed to the school. To me, it seemed that the night couldn’t get any better. When Ben started talking to his guy friends, I took walk to the ladies’ room. While rinsing my hands and reapplying my lip-gloss, I reflected on my perfect evening with the perfect guy. What could possibly go wrong? I thought to myself. But then, I walked out the door to find none other than Ben Sampson, my date, with his arms wrapped securely around a beautiful blond named Chloe Hunter. Yes, you heard right. His “ex-girlfriend.” Or so I had thought…
Was he using me to make her jealous? I couldn’t take any more of this. As I felt hot, salty tears spill down my cheeks, I made a mad dash for the door while my classmates stopped to stare. Great. Now I would be the talk of the school tomorrow.
I had my hand on the door, ready to call a cab to take me home, when someone pulled me back. Sampson.
No, not that one. The other one. Zach. Zach Sampson had his hand on my am, stopping me from leaving. He didn’t let go, so I turned to look at him. He looked worried and a little guilty. Why did he look guilty?
“Did he hurt you?” He asked softly. I’d never noticed how softly he spoke. I’d never noticed his beautiful green eyes, either. Wow.
“I’m fine,” I said. But as I spoke, more tears began to flow. He laughed, and I tried to smile in response.
“Come on,” he took my hand, “let’s go.”
“Where?” I asked, honestly confused. This was not the Zach Sampson I knew. He did not socialize.
“We can get some coffee or something. You look like you could use a friend. Or just a shoulder to cry on.” He offered a sympathetic smile.
This time I really smiled back. “Thanks,” I whispered. Zach and I talked for hours, sitting in those big, comfy chairs at Starbucks. Then he took me home. I never realized how sweet and funny he was. As we stood on my doorstep, that’s what went through my head.
“Thanks, Zach,” I said. “You saved me back there.”
“No problem,” he said, looking into my eyes. “My brother can be a real jerk.” We laughed. Suddenly I felt something cold against my cheek. It was snowing.
“Beautiful,” I breathed.
Zach smiled and leaned in to press his lips to mine gently. When he pulled away, he whispered in me ear. “Yes you are,” he said.
djdangerjonasluver on 5/7/2009 9:31:11 PM
Erin's dad reached the glass door first, dropped one bad momentarily, and pulled on the handle so it opened. He let Erin pass him, and she went into the building she would call home.
There wasn't anything very special about the foyer. A blue couch sat in the corner of the room, along with a side table covered in magizenes. To the back was a hallway leading to 1st floor rooms. Erin pulled out a green slip of paper from her pocket.
"I'm in room 317." She called to her dad after a moment's searching.
Her dad nodded, and headed for an elevator to the left of them. They started their ascent.
(To be continued)
writerchickwithfeelings's blog on 5/7/2009 5:01:16 PM
Erin brushed her blond bangs out of her face and picked up her duffle bag. Her purse rested on her shoulder and in her other hand was a rolling suitcase. Behind her, Erin's dad carried three more bags, but that still wasn't everything. A few boxes remained stacked up on top of each other in the bed of her blue Ford.
Erin walked slowly up the path towards her dorm. The August sun beamed down on the back of her neck, made her persperate, but was still welcome...
writerchickwithfeelings's blog on 5/7/2009 4:57:04 PM
It is so hard to brush away tears when you are driving. It's hard to drive when you are crying.
Emily decided to pull over that afternoon at the gas station on the corner. She couldn't take it.
The day was beautiful and warm. Emily pulled the keys out of her ignition and listened to the gentle hum of her dying motor.
"Everything is going to work out." She whispered to herself, repeating the words of serveral of her friends that day. "Everything always words out."
She pulled his jacket off and wrapped it up into a small ball. Emily climbed over her middle console and sprawled out over the smooth leather of her back seat. The tears kept flowing, and she kept gasping like everyone does when they're crying. She didn't want to go home, she didn't want to go back to school. So she just stayed there in the gas station parking lot, unable to do anything else.
After a few hours, Emily woke up to he brink of day, the sky patched with pink, orage, and purple clouds as the sun set on the horizon. She ran her hand over her tear stained face, which felt dry and stiff to her touch. She felt horrible, almost sick, but not quite. Her eyes were still puffy, and upon looking into the overhead mirror, she also saw that they were red and irratated like fire.
Emily placed the keys into the ignition, and drove again. She didn't know where she was going, and she wasn't about to find out. She didn't turn the radio on, she didn't tap her fingers on the wheel, she didn't stop at serveral stop signs. Emily just kept going. Eventually, she came to a highway just south of the school. To her left the sun was setting, and to her right night had just begun. Emily continued down that road. Half swallowed up by the darkness of night, and half illumunated in the glow of the setting sun. Half of her went missing to night. Half of her that was her best friend and possibly her love. He left the jacket, something she would never again be able to return.
Emily's boyfriend died today.
In loving memory of Andres, a boy that I never got to know, a boy who had many friends, but never understood. A boy who went down with pressure. A boy who hung himself. May you RIP wherever you are. I mourn your soul Andres.
writerchickwithfeelings's blog on 5/7/2009 3:32:24 PM
This is my blog!
I like to write, and I like to express my opinions, so I thought this would be the perfect way to express my views!
Today I'm just going to write. It's going to be fiction of course. Keep in mind that none of this is pre-written, so ignore spelling and gramical errors.
writerchickwithfeelings's blog on 5/7/2009 3:15:10 PM
Flavor: Rich, sweet chocolate cake smothered with creamy icing. Mmmm!
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Read it for free! Get a sneak peek at Julie Kagawa's thrilling series...