Short stories/description

Descriptive Writing

A small indentation carved by perfection, left bleeding out onto the solid form, although intimidated by the swarm around it. Torn from the seems, imprinted to last forever, for it was a deformity surrounded by and ocean of endless scratches. A lone solider dispatched from duties, bloodied and bruised, although only in spirt but not in mind.Traumatised from abuse left over a lifetime, rough from the core, nothing left expect from a broken entity.

A small indentation ingrained to fade away among larger scratches that lay upon the sturdy object which was battling for life. However, inside was a different story. It may be left to stand but things change over time and time never stands still. Piece by piece something was torn from  her, no matter how big or small it was left falling apart. More so, it remained stubborn and substantial, furthermore, standing to see another day.

A small indentation had only one friend left, a life support, a backbone, a connection to the prospect of hope. Worn away, rusted to the core, weakened over time, yet still an ample view of protection. Left with only screws to balance out weight between the two. It had faced many challenges leaving it bent and crooked and only lubrication could save it from the brink of death now.

A small indentation rightfully parked next too haunted leftovers of an unadorned piece of metal. Rounded with a scratchy surface, deemed useless in any attempt to fight, consequently left to collect the identity of foes. Allowing a map to trace around, to put up a facade of freedom.

A small indentation stood next to a short, stumpy triangle putting all effort in to connect with its counterpart, grasping on for dear life. All this for a once in a life time feeling of belonging, for just once in its self doomed life too feel like its at home. Wanting to be intertwined to fulfil its only purpose in life.

A small indentation was soon flooded by a dim luminosity creeping through the cracks around. Purity and all that remains hidden behind the barricades made from the small light that reminded it of hope. A light reminding friends of what its fighting for yet reminding foes what they so desperately want.

A small indentation stood amongst thousands of different shapes and sizes, battle scars formed  from childhood. All of these scars lay to rest on a simple piece of wood, battered and abused, a silent sufferer drowned in congealed blood. A door.

But this wasnt just any door sitting in a room of light. It wasnt a door hiding a room either, nor a door to the great unknown. It was only a mind closed door, fighting cruel monsters wanting to take a childs innocence, to take all that was left of her humanity, to strip her off her pure heart and soul. Finally creating the monster that they always desired. All that was hers was taken except from a single door. A door that was and will remain forever locked to the world filled with hungry predators.

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Hey guys so I just thought I would let you know what this is about if you didn't get it while reading.

So first off its about a single door sat in a room, but it bares lots of marks and scratches from its age but as this moves on I was hinting at it not being a door in a room but actually a mental door inside a young child's mind try to protect her from the abuse of the outside word. Its up to you what you picture as the abuse and what you infer.

However its up to you what you picture this as and any tips or feedback would be amazing!

Just thought ill let you know that this is actually what I wrote in my exam for creative writing. And the picture at the top or side is the picture that was given and we had to write a description or describe an occasion we felt nervous.

Luisa xo