Pen and Paper
- LECTURAS 30
- Votos 3
- Partes 3
I know I know... Lame title ella-grace what the heck blah blah blah... Can we not talk about that??
As you may or may not know I go to an arts school. Sometimes I'm proud of the writing I do there. So I decided to post those works here sometimes! Happy reading!
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the perfect murder | completed
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𝐁𝐮𝐫𝐲 𝐀 𝐅𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝
"You're atheist," I remind him. "You don't believe in god." "I believe in you," He murmurs, letting the cigarette hang from his lips. "I believe in whatever you believe." He says, letting the confession roll off his tongue as if it were that simple. As if god, the devil, heaven, hell-as if none of it really had meaning to him. "That's not how it works," I mutter as we walk down a few more alleyways-the city of Manhattan coated in a light blanket of snow. Henry Vitiello had never had anything to pray for, that is, until he met me-the only thing that had ever opened his mind up to the possibility of religion "Isn't it?" He argues, taking the cigarette by his middle and pointer finger before blowing the smoke out. "I'II dip my hands in holy water if it means I could touch you." "You'd probably burn." 𓆩♡𓆪 𝐇𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐘 𝐕𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐎, the reaper. He's a prick. An asshole. A pretentious son of a bitch. He's not perfect. He's not even decent. But he's hers. She could be a bottle labeled poison but he was an alcoholic, and he had drunk her empty. Now he was hungover. 𝐉𝐀𝐍𝐄 𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒, the healer. She's known to be the perfect good girl, with perfect grades and a perfect life with a perfect family. They didn't know that behind the gated doors of their billion dollar estate, she was strapped down to a chair every night and picked apart just to be put back together in time for supper. 𓆩♡𓆪 star-crossed; adjective (of a person or a plan) thwarted by bad luck. 'star-crossed lovers' and that, they were. So they fucked under those very stars that tried so desperately to break them apart. 𓆩♡𓆪 ‼️DISCLAIMER ‼️ BOOK REFERENCES TO MARA DYER, SHATTER ME, MIND FUCK, ETC ARE ALL INTENTIONAL SO DONT BE RUDE. AS FOR TRIGGER WARNConcluida
The Imperishable Flame⎪✓
"You have lost your mind, what the hell do you think you're doing?" She yells at me. "Don't start with me." "I'm not starting shit, Elijah! This was supposed to be a night out and then you come along, you ruin everything!" The anger on her voice isn't lost on me, I've never heard her this mad before and she is dangerously attractive with the wild look in her eyes and slightly open mouth. "You shouldn't even be here! What the fuck do you mean a night out, have you gone insane?" I raise my voice unintentionally and she looks even more crazed than she did before. "That's rich, coming from the jerk who almost killed a guy minutes ago!" ********* Elijah Black is her first love. He is her only love. Even three years after high school when both of them have gone separate ways, never talked again, she still thinks about him and scolds herself for it. They agreed to end things, they agreed to cut all ties, she isn't allowed to feel this way anymore. But she does. Dakota Moore is the name he refuses to mention, she is the girl he struggles to think about. Even three years after high school when both of them have gone their separate ways, never talked again, he still fears whenever someone brings her up in conversation and he hates it. She needed to get away from all the horrific things, they agreed to cut all ties, he can't fawn over her like this anymore. But he does. Two broken souls could mend each other, but the aspect of staying together was too much. Why couldn't things just be easy for them? Why couldn't they have their romance in peace? Loving someone is hard enough, but when the past catches up to you and the future traumatizes you, can you really focus on the mending of a broken relationship? Or will you burn in the process? ******* THE SECOND BOOK OF THE FLAME SERIES Highest rankings: 1st place in #heated 1st place in #fighter 1st place in #badboy 25th place in #romanceConcluida
Petals of my moonflower
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Rose from His Ashes
There is no value in dying. That's what I told myself every time I saw him waste away, drowning in alcohol and regrets. And yet, when I first heard her voice, whispering a quiet, desperate prayer, my world began to change. The only thing that kept me sane was words. The ones I read, the ones I twisted, the ones I threw at people just to see how they'd react. And then there was her-Nadia, the new literature teacher, the only one who didn't just dismiss me as another lost cause. She had the kind of sharpness that cut in just the right places, the kind of presence that made people underestimate her until they realized she was always three steps ahead. She started the literature club. Said it was a place for people who had something to say. The club became something else entirely. A place where words were both refuge and ruin, where the broken came not to be mended, but to carve their scars into words. Mira, too soft for this world but still stubborn enough to stay. Selene, silent but seeing everything. Adam, pretending not to care but always listening. Elyas, the golden boy with secrets he'd rather bury. Kira, the Queen, watching us all like a predator sizing up prey. Nadia, looking down from her throne, amused at how predictable we were. And Lina, always meeting my gaze like she was waiting for me to strike first. I should have known that fire like hers was bound to burn everything down. I don't know when it started. When she stopped being just a game to me. When I realized that all the things I thought I hated about her were the very things that made me come back. But by then, it was too late. Because in the end, there was fire. But the thing about fire is that it doesn't just destroy. Sometimes, it leaves something behind. And that's why she rose from my ashes.
Consume Me
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The Overshared And Underappreciated Mind Of A Hopeless Romantic
Writing has always been a secret indulgence. It's something I keep to myself most days and it will continue to be something I share with very few people. Bound in these flimsy plastic rings is a brief rundown of me. The good, the bad, and the ugly. Nothing in here is terribly out of the ordinary for a teen girl who grew up before she was supposed to. A girl whose life was never hers to live. A lot of the time, I never know what's going on. I find it helpful to write down what I don't understand to try and make sense of the world around me. Writing these pieces has helped me find peace in my life. This class has proven more cathartic than I thought. That being said, there are some topics that can be sensitive here. I've starred the titles that could be triggering for some in the table of contents. If you are bothered by mentions of: abuse, self harm, or talks about mental health and illnesses, I suggest avoiding the starred titles. Otherwise, I hope you enjoy the ooey-gooey and heartfelt pieces I have pumped out of my systemConcluida
My Shades of Gray
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This is a collection of some poems and short stories that I've written. This was actually an assignment in class, but I thought I wanted to share it with everybody. (I'm really sorry, I'm not very good with writing poems and I can only write in repetition.) In this collection, I will be writing about the things that I see around me, or the things that I feel at the moment, so I will tend ramble a bit. I'm not very good at writing bright and happy things, but I will try my best! I hope you guys will enjoy my poems! ^^
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