yellowbug says:

Written December 2006 The dull glow of the lights tries to penetrate the haze. You mingle. Lost and bewildered. The soiree is abuzz with voices. Gowns swish to the melody of the thrumming musicians. You catch his eye from across the grass. You yell out, "Don't you know I love you?" No sound is heard above the swelling cadence. You run to him. Your legs become trunks fashioned after the oaks surrounding you. The haze thickens into a dark fog that swirls; encircling and blinding. The trees catch the motion of the notes and begin to dance with the haze. His words slice and hot tears flow. "Remember that time?" he responds vaguely. "It never happened." You bring the blade close to your cheek to cool, to kiss, to kill. You can't run. You can't see. You can't speak. But the voices chirp, the musicians thrum, the gowns swish. The music doesn't s...

I have serious doubts about my current writing ability post-college; therefore, my first blog will consist of a story I wrote in my Creative Writing class my Junior year at Tech. Don't be concerned because of the seemingly violent nature of the story...it's just a story. I don't need therapy...anyway. Enjoy~ Sweat dampened Arria's flannel pajamas as her bed sheets tightened around her in a constricting hold. Arms and emotions flailed in a frenzy of anxiety and hatred. Yet amidst all the confusion, she held the gun steadily as he stood, hysterical before her. All the pain he put her through, all the love and despise that consumed her accumulated in this one moment, and just as she pulled the trigger… Arria bolted upright as she remembered the same dream, the same ending, and the same loneliness. Rain and ice pummeled the roof of her red brick house; held back only by the careless, overbearing oak trees. She stepped onto her balcony unaware of the ferocity of ...