This was for a writing test some time ago. Of course, I changed, added, and deleted a few sentences to put this on Wattpad. :)
Conscious by Broods
The girls shoved and pushed as they swung around the tall, skinny trees. One of them, her name was Jay, and she felt like she didn't belong. She was uncomfortable about her strange, but talented, ability to imagine incredible scenarios. She was able to devise a thousand ideas from the blades of grass below. She could stare for days, seasons, decades, just thinking.Though her friends, they hit headfirst. They would all rather be laughing hysterically, running free on unstable clouds, and intimidating anything in their way.
Not in a safe, hidden area, tucked quietly in the cold light of the stars, warmed by one other. Which is Jay's most preferable choice. The girls would promptly label the activity as "queer" if they found out.
So, while the sun shifted slowly, Jay stopped. She lowered to the ground, the sharp grass, the sunset leaves, the weak twigs. The bloodied chains, the raging fires, the cracked swords. The innocent giggles distorted to primal roars, making Jay shiver slightly.
This was her favourite part, when her mind finally warped reality. The thin shadows reddened, and glass shards mirrored a heart-wrenching scene that clenched Jay with wondrous fear. They mixed to reflect a beast; a crimson dragon swooping over the warfare, causing the bravest to duck, shocked by the mighty shadow it cast.
Though the scenes were frightening, Jay knew it was only a scary daydream, and the horror was harmless. So she frowned at the normality that lurked back and forth, imagined more, and was not disappointed.
The trees were crumbling columns of stone, mortar traced with vines that bloomed dead, wilted, ugly flowers. The quick wind was like fire, and when it whipped your skin, it was with such hate and ferocity. You wanted to match it, and when you did, you matched it with vicious adrenalin that pumped your blood.
Then a small, delicate bird glided down to Jay's lap, who let out a quiet cry at the forced spin back to reality. The dream swept away with a curt flutter of the little parakeet.
I was tempted to write parayeet.
Anyway, I will try to make a p(arayeet)art 2. :)