Sci Fi Story Beginning-- Lindsay

A scene of devastation met their eyes in the form of a curling roof and blackened, blistered wood.

They were gone.

Radical thoughts stung Jade's head and made it ache a pain that she couldn't bear. It hurt her bones, made her knees weak, and left her breathing heavily in panic. "No. This isn't the house. We're on the wrong street. We went the wrong way and I never grew up here! This isn't my home. My room window isn't there, so it's all wrong!" Glass lie shattered and glistening on the grass below a second story gaping hole that was about ready to concave.

David's vision was blurry and his heart beat fast, but his voice didn't waver. "Take my hand now. We are leaving. The farther we can get on foot by nightfall, the better off we are." He knew that the smoldering house was a sign left by Ed. Ed had set it as a warning. David suspected Jade's parents were merely crumbling piles of ash. Possibly locked in their homes the night their arsonist set their home ablaze. There wasn't a doubt in David's mind that this was true.
It was something Ed would do for sure. He would never give up.

David would keep running.

Ed always got what he wanted.

And so, the chase continued.

A Piece of Writing Noa

A scene of devastation met their eyes. Mary and Jim looked at the kitchen in utter terror. Pots and pans were scattered everywhere, food from the fridge splattered on the walls, drawers ripped opened, as if a tornado had struck. Mouth’s agape, the couple could hardly speak.

“Wh-who did this?” Jim asked incredulously

Two bright blue mischievous eyes peeked out behind the kitchen island.

“YOU!” Jim yelled accusingly.

The blue eyes widened at the sound and they ducked behind the island again.

“You are in HUGE trouble missy,” Jim threatened.

A girl with a head full of blond curls fled the scene, a tiny bright blur.

“Get back here!” Jim shouted. He started to run after her, but promptly slipped in last night's pasta sauce and landed flat on his back. He cursed loudly. Oblivious the the red goop that covered his body he picked himself up, only to trip on a large wok and hit his head on a pan.

He continued bumbling like a bear around the kitchen, tripping, bumping into furniture, and of course falling down, until he had given up his chase. He sat down in the wreck of a kitchen painting. Mary finally rolled her eyes, easily navigated through the kitchen and picked up their daughter in her arms, and gave Jim a look that said “You really couldn’t have done this on your own?” She sighed and walked out of the room, leaving Jim a mess on the floor in the destroyed kitchen.

Scene of Devestation-Elizabeth

          Dust pours over her bruised and bleeding body, snaking into her breathless lungs and encasing her in gray nothingness.  She lies on the mahogany-colored carpet, beneath everything. Somewhere, among the debris and destruction, lies her family, tired and scared and half alive. 

         Her tangled almond hair clings to her back as she struggles to pull herself to the light. She tries to catch her breath in order to call for help, but her dry coughing will not cease. 

          Above the rubble, chaos flickers about, spinning and flipping, through the heads of onlookers. They weep and scream and stand, helplessly. Each agonizing minute drags by at the speed of a snail, divided by a million. And still they lay under the remains of the church, waiting, expecting. 

           She strains her neck, exerting all of her energy and will power to reply to the calls she hears. The words are distant. The deafening boom had damaged her. But she heard and she called out to them. And they were saved. A scene of great devastation  and pillage met their eyes. But when recalling the terrorizing events of that morning, they were only thankful to have lived.

          

Untitled--Liesl

She staggered into the dark house, cold and tired, but happier than she had been in a very, very long time. She had just come back from a night out with her best friends, shopping, going out to dinner, and then going to see a movie. Behind her, her best friend’s bright red car pulled out of the driveway and down the suburban Detroit street. Closing the door behind her, Aina flipped on the entryway lights. Only then did it hit her that something was off.

Her parents had said that they would be home, that they were just going to catch up on some work for their office. They were both… well… Aina didn’t exactly know. They were always busy, travelling or something, and when Aina tried to ask them questions about their work, they always suddenly became distracted and bustled off. Aina had eventually learned not to ask questions.

Tonight, all the lights in the house were off, except for the porch light, which she had left on when she left. The house was dark and silent.

“Mom? Dad? Where are you guys?” I walked up the dark stairs, switching all of the lights on as I went. I rounded the corner into their office, and a scene of devastation met my eyes.

Untitled--Liesl

On a gray, foggy morning they came, whispering tendrils of fear snaking around my mind and ensnaring the good thoughts, the happy thoughts, and crushing the life out of them, then throwing them aside like a wasted cigarette that has had the life smoked out of it.  The dark thoughts, the evil thoughts they encouraged to grow, spread far and wide to the far corners of your mind, like some evil, villainous plant intent on crushing the sunshine out of every happy memory.

The gray fog itself was the poison; it was the tendrils of poison intent on turning everyone it touched into a killer, into a gray, cold assassin, one who could kill without blinking an eye. It was Their secret weapon. It was the thing that They had been boasting about for years. And none of us was prepared to resist.

Untitled-- Lindsay

On a gray, foggy morning they came, with their blank stares and stiff suits. They get bigger every time I see them, when they walk slowly through the village, looking straight ahead as if they don't see everyone glancing at them wearily. Their polished shoes shine against the dirt road like diamonds in the rough.
That morning they came, I knew I would never witness another dawn. If things went as planned, I'd be gone by the afternoon.

It was a month ago today that I recieved the letter in the mail, stating that I was one of the chosen three to be recruited into the Army of Anguish. A place of child brutality and torture where three from every region would be hardened into a killer with no remorse. The people from every region are randomly chosen, but I can't believe a word of what they tell us, because they are secretive people. Secrets hide behind the gray of all of their eyes. Like a misty cloud that can never go back. Can never travel back to a world of happiness or family.

My heart hurts. I force myself to look away, take my little brother in my arms, and refuse to let go when he tries to squirm from my grip. If I refused to go, they would take my family too. And I would be killed by someone ruthless enough to do it in my own home with my family watching.
They know how to crack and break a heart like an eggshell.

I will be one of them soon.

The Thoughts-Elizabeth

             On a gray, foggy morning, they came, clouding my head, pestering my thoughts. It was then, when I realized my life was never turning back. I tried to ignore that fact, but, it seemed the sun would not pull through until I considered it. And it was that, that annoying speculation, that kept me up at night. I neither could nor would decide if it was a positive thing or not. But I just couldn't stand the aggravating whispers in the dark and the dizziness and the dark, cloudy sky anymore. The guilt, remorse, and shame, gnawing at my last nerve was driving me over the top. And finally, I really reflected on that night, the night that changed everything; the night that's all over the news and the night that i just can't stop thinking about. I needed to tell myself that it wasn't my fault. I needed to launch those thoughts that came into the past. I really just needed the sun to shine and to know its was going to be okay.

The Voice in the Dark- Liesl

Missing Her
I am the voice in the dark,
calling out for your help.
The one you left behind
with tears in your eyes,
and a break in your heart
the one that you left
alone in the cold
alone in the dark
in a cage, all alone
without anyone to
love.

Without a family
To call my
own.

I wonder if she misses me.
I wonder if she calls
out for me
like I do
for you.

 

Missing Him

I am the voice in the dark
Calling out for you.
Calling out for the one
Who would lick away my tears
And snuggle with me
When everything was looking down
Calling out for the one
Who was mine
No matter what.

 I can’t get his face out of my head

The day I left him.
The day that I handed him away
With tears in my eyes
and a break in my heart

 

I wonder if he misses me.
I wonder if he calls
Out for me
Like I do
For you

Imaginary Land Noa

He dreams about a fantasy world
In this world there are many
Glorious citadels atop stunning cliffs
The sun shines bright upon these acropolises
He dreams that he is a knight
A glorious soldier of the divine
His adventures told in fabulous fables
He is the last bulwark for his kingdom
He dreams that he fights malevolent creatures
That raze the fantasy kingdom
He slays these creatures
An unstoppable juggernaut of the righteous
He dreams that he helps the begrimed children
And that he save damsels in distress
He is the most acclaimed knight in the kingdom
A hero of heroes
But of course this is only a dream
He snaps back to reality
To the bullies who call him a nerd
to the disparaging words and the stress
Things that he cannot escape or defeat with his imaginary sword
He wishes he could
just
go
back.

Silver Airplanes-- Lindsay

Silver birds
they valued freedom over
food, thin rations--
they wiggled their baren wings
in fulfillment.
Yes, I am the voice in the dark,
they dream,
calling out for your
help.
That was just the beginning,
where principal lies before pleasure
mingling with horrible
worldy things.

Candy drops:
a little candy drop of
hope.
They fled
to faraway places with
strange-sounding names
where
silver flies high.
They wanted to be free,
don't give up on your dreams.
Silver airplanes fly so high,
the sun was in their eyes,
in the blinding light
there was happiness.

Wishing for a Friend-Elizabeth

I am the one
I am the one you turn away from.
I am the one who has no one.
I am the voice in the dark, calling out for your help.

All I really need is a friend.
All I really need is someone to talk to.
I'm caught in my own little world,
wishing someone would listen.

I know I am different.
and that you don't care for me.
I just want someone to care,
anyone to care.

Maybe someday things will be different.
Maybe someday things will change.
maybe I will have friends,
maybe, I'll have a best friend.

But I know my pondering thoughts
will be answered just as soon as
broccoli grows legs and runs around your plate,
or when toddlers actually enjoy time out.

I guess for now,
against my highest hopes,
I'll have to deal with being just
a voice in the dark, calling out for your help.

Just calling for you to pull me up
off
the
ground.

Colorful Things That Make You Wonder-- By Lindsay

               Palm trees bounce in the warm weather breeze, lazy nods, and the humid air leaves sticky moisture on my skin. Life is good, with ocean waves collapsing to the sand, hugging the rocks, and with orange popsicle juice dripping down my chin, I close my eyes and let the sun shine on my face. My palm is sweaty in your hand, but you don't seem to mind. You race to catch lime popsicle drippings on your tongue, and we walk alone the shore until we find the best place to unroll our beach towels and lounge in the day's perfection next to one another. The spot we are looking for is somewhere in the sun, but not in its direct beam, somewhere close to the tall rocks where we can later explore, and where their looming shadows can shade us.
               We find a place not long after we set out for our walk.
               We lay our towels on the sand, but don't sit still for long, because nearby we have found a cove full of shells and crabs underneath the sand. The two of us become treasure hunters, and we form a pile of things up high on the rocks where the tide can't reach them. Neither of us talk much, we are so busy digging and skimming our fingers along the shallow water's surface.
                "If you really look, you find good things. Colorful things, shining things, things that make you wonder. Things you love wondering and thinking about." You tell me this all the time. And everytime, you give my hand a little squeeze.
                  That makes me feel all warm inside.

Writer's block- Liesl

I look around my room, desperately hoping for something to give me inspiration. It is the second to last day of vacation, the second to last day of freedom before school crushes down on us. Bleak light floats in through the four large windows. Outside, there is nothing to write about. My room is drab, nothing exiting, and the hundred and twenty three books all neatly lined up on the shelves do not have their usual charm. What was the prompt again? Life is good. Okay. I sit down at the computer screen and start to write.

 Staring out at the calm blue water and the New York City skyline with the sun on my back, feeling the heat through my light jacket I sigh…

 No, no, too cliché. I delete the entire line. Ummmm....

 

            The only times that I have really been happy are when I am home with my cousins and family, or alone in the woods…

            No. No way. Where did that come from? Backspace. I hate writer’s block. Whenever I am not writing, ideas swirl around in my head, stories, not fully formed, poems bursting with light and color, but then I sit down at the computer to try and put my ideas on paper, the fountain of ideas slows to barely a trickle and I can’t remember anything that I have been dreaming about.

            Outside, the sun peaks through the clouds, illuminating the worn out carpet with a ray of golden light…