FWF: [Image Prompt] Tell This Story…

I was hard getting to sleep lately, all I could think about was when I’d see my brother again.

About a year ago, I lost both of my parents in a tragic accident which left my older brother to care for me. We got along well and he was able to look after us both until a month ago when he dropped me of at our grandparent’s house and told me there was something he had to do. That he’d be back soon. A month ago today he’d told me that yet still, there was no sign of him. No phone calls, no nothing. His whereabouts plagued my thoughts everyday and here I was now, like every other night since then, trying in vain to fall asleep.

Finally I drifted off…

I was walking through a dense jungle, a stick ablaze in my hand to shed light on my path on such a dark night. I didn’t know where I was going, nor where I’d come from, but I kept walking. After about 10 minutes of mindless walking I started to hear whispers. There were voices coming from somewhere up ahead. At least, I hoped it was in that direction. The jungle plays tricks on ones mind at nighttime.

The voices grew louder the further I walked until I was stopped short by a fence of tall, thick wild grass. I doused my torch in a near by pool, scared of setting fire to the grass, before slowly pushing my way through the dense brush.

It took me a while, but I finally managed to push myself free of the grass to be greeted by a bright light that caused me to wince in pain and force my eyes shut. After a few moments, I reopened my eyes andadjusted to the light cast by the two braziers either side of me. I took a few tentative steps forward for a better view of the scene before me and was both shocked and rather scared by what I saw.

A narrow river that stretched as far left and as far right as I could see, consumed by the jungle on either side, lay a few metres infront of me with a few hippos and some very large and very hungry looking crocodiles. Quickly turning my attention away from them, I noticed the array of animals of the far bank of the river. Monkeys, zebras, rhinos and deer, all staring at me. The trees surrounding this circular sort of oasis were filled with so many different birds and directly opposite me on the other side of the river sat a mighty-looking tiger atop a massive pile of boulders.

“Don’t be afraid, young one,” a beautiful, large tigeress came up beside me. Her eyes seem to smile at me. “Come,” she said. I followed her to the edge of the river where she left me to return to the jungle. It was there that I really got a good look at the animals around me. They were bigger that I’d originally thought they were. Much bigger than they should be. I looked over all the animals, trying to make sense of it before settling my eyes on the tiger infront of me. The tigeress had been large; larger than any tiger I’d seen before, but this tiger, he was even larger than her. He would have to be at least two times, probably more, than the tigers I’d seen at the zoo.

“Michael Alexander Morgan. Welcome, at last,” the tiger startled me, how did he know my name? It was then that I realised that animals were talking to me, and I could understand them. Not growling, not hissing, not squawking, talking! Bringing me back to my sense, the tiger spoke again,”we have waited a long time for you. I am Ariki, leader of this council.”

To this my only response was, “Uh, hi.” He already knew my name, so I didn’t know what else to say. This seemed to amuse him because he let forth a throaty laugh as said, ” Do not be afraid you one, we are not here to hurt you. We are here to help you, just as you are here to help us.” I was so confused, and I was still not over how large he was.

“I don’t understand.”

“Not yet perhaps, but soon, you will.” My mind was reeling. “Do not dispair for your brother. Like you, he has a destiny to live out as you must also do soon. You will see him again.”

Still confused, the scene began to drift away from me, as though I was being pulled back from it. As I drifted further away from the animals, the tiger’s voice whispered in my head, “Go, rest, for your time is coming. We will see you soon enough”.

I woke with a start, my body covered in a thin layer of sweat. What a strange dream, I thought. Never before have I had a dream like that. So vivid. And the things the tiger was saying.. about my brother; about me. Strange. It was just a dream, I told myself. It was just a dream.

But I had an uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach.. Was it just a dream?

Amber. xx

Another post for a Kellie Elmore prompt. This is a free-write piece written at 3am. So not only is it unedited, it is written on lack of sleep. Haha. ;D


Inside the literary mind of a 12 year-old: The Pu Tuhs

A/N: Just before we begin, I thought I should say that this short story was written around my twelfth birthday. I’ve copied it to here word for word perfect, just so I could have it documented here as well as a single copy on paper. (: It was written in English class where we had to create a superhero and write a story about them.

This particular story was a practise exercise to precede the  final assessment – another short story about a superhero but.. better. Haha. (Hopefully I can find that one – as I’m rather proud of it – and show it as well. Although it did grow from a 500-700 word limit to a 2,114 word submission. ;D) Anyway! Enjoy.

The Pu Tuhs (Which is Shut Up backwards. Apparently I found this thoroughly amusing in Grade Nine.)

One fine day at Sommerset High, Ms Ellem was teacher her usual Monday period 5&6 english class.She enjoyed teaching this class as she had mostly lovely kids but unfortunately also many annoying little brats. Her favourite students were Monelica Amerthyst and Marie Roberts. Monelica and Marie were her favourites because they were polite, well behaved and also did all their work. There was also one other reason. One which very few people knew about. They had something in common that was superhuman. They all had super human powers. They all found out about each others when Ms Ellem caught them using their elemental powers and decided to share with them she was psychic and had an elemental power herself. But that was 2 months ago. Now they have mastered all their powers with each others help, and know where their power source is.

Twenty five minutes into the 35 minute lesson Monelica’s other best friend, Holly could see that the teacher’s desk drawer was glowing dimly and told both Monelica and Marie. Although they could not see it glowing they told Ms Ellem. Ms Ellem wanted to show the girls but couldn’t. Because by opening the drawer the classroom would glow a pinky-purple drawing attention to it from the students. So Monelica momentarily shape shifted the four of the to a space of nothingness while a hologram of them was created in the classroom.

Ms Ellem opened the drawer and inside sat a bright, shimmering pinky-purple stone. She explained to the girls that the stone was her power source. It was the scared stone, Pu Tuhs. It had been passed down through many generations. Monelica and Marie also had power sources which they could carry. Marie’s was a bright pink flower, and Monelica’s was a bright purple nova wand. They were starting to get warm and even brighter. Holly didn’t have a power source like theirs. Hers was in her mind. Ms Ellem then also explained why they were glowing and getting warmer. They were doing this because evil was looming. Coming for Ms. Ellem’s power source. Ms. Ellem knew who was coming from her psychic ability. It was the Nasty Wizard of Cicatidel.

Monelica returned the class to normal and they resumed the lesson even though the bell was due to go in 2 minutes. They were all scared of what was going to happen to Ms Ellem. They decided nothing was going to happen to her. They were going to make sure nothing was going to happen to her.

Suddenly a scary guy burst through the large windows of the classroom. At this moment Ms Ellem and the three girls knew it was the Nasty Wizard of Cicatidel. They all crowded around Ms Ellem and discussed what action they were going to take. As the wizard edged closer they decided they were going to fight but Holly was going to put a forced field around the class and Ms Ellem as Marie and Monelica fought him.

So the battle begun with the martial arts. Although unknowing to the Nasty Wizard, the girls also had super powers which matched his. After a good 5 minutes of fighting physically, the Wizard resorted to his super powers. He used both the Dark and the Earth elemental powers but Monelica and Marie could match it and rebound it. The fight started to get more fierce and they used all the powers they had and even Holly and Ms Ellem cam in to help. 10 minutes later they scared him off. The class came back in and cheered, although that didn’t last long because Ms Ellem erased that part of their memory.

When they all went to lunch Holly went to the Toilet, Monelica and Marie went to the Music block and Ms Ellem went to her staff room, leaving the Pu Tuhs in the class drawer. As Holly entered the toilet block se was interrupted by a man who she couldn’t see. He grabbed her and orbed her into Ms Ellem’s classroom where Holly could see it was the Nasty Wizard. He stole Ms Ellem’s Pu Tuhs. And he drove them off in his bomby car to his secret lair in a cave at the beach. (He liked the smell and sounds of the sea!)

Back at school, 10 mins after Holly had gone to the toilet, she had not returned. The girls started to worry and went looking for her. She wasn’t in the toilets, so they went to check the classroom. When they arrived, the classroom was trashed and Ms Ellem’s stone was gone. The girls sprinted up to Ms Ellems’s staffroom and told her. They realised then that it was the Nasty Wizard who had taken her stone and kidnapped Holly. Ms Ellem felt helpless as she knew if he has her stone he would use it for evil to rule the world. Ir destroy it. The girls also found a note which was left in the drawer. It said: “I have kidnapped your friend and you will not get her back unless you (Ms Ellem) come alone to my lair in the beach cave and tell me how to use your stone thingy!” Ms Ellem still had her powers and so did the girls! So they were going to find the Nasty Wizard of Cicatidel and defeat him in the process of getting back Holly!

As they crept cautiously through the damp, wet cave, they could hear a deep, muffled voice. They created a plan of what they were going to do and a course of action. As they crept closer, the girls hid in crevices along the cave so they were unseen. Ms Ellem went into the circular opening in which Holly was tied up and the Wizard standing behind a counter. “You’ve finally arrived!” he said snidely. “Yes, now untie Holly and leave her be!” she replied. “As you wish.” And he did so. “Now give me the stone to show you how it works!”

“I will not fall for that trick!”

Just give me the stone now, I want to get this over and done with!” She said getting slight angrier. He gave her the stone, and Ms Ellem laughed. The girls all stood in a line facing the wizard. Then the girls fired all their power at him and him to them in return. Sparks fromt he impact flew everywhere and the cave was getting brighter and brighter! Then all of a sudden the cave exploded and Holly quickly put a shield around the girls and Ms Ellem.

When the dust has settled all that was left was a little frog in a pointy hat that leapt away angrily. The girls laughed and then returned to school! Then celebrated with a block of chocolate Ms Ellem had in her staffroom fridge.

Amber. xx

So, after reading through this as I typed it out, I realised that much of it is actually rather painful to read it’s so bad. But, it was my twelve year old self and I shan’t correct this. Haha. Hope you enjoyed or at least, aren’t in too much pain. (:

IAWTW: It Had Been Years Since…

You get to fill in the plot and add a few lines to it.  Here is your prompt.  I’ve added some choices for you but you don’t have to use them.  You can take the plot anywhere you want to.  Unleash the creativity of your inner novelist / playwright / artist.  Write as much or as little as you would like.  Get outrageous.  Have fun!

It had been ___ years since I had seen ____________ (name), my best friend in (high school /college / university).  I hadn’t planned on spending all those years apart from each other.  Who would have thought we’d meet by accident like this, in a coffee shop in the middle of (nowhere / bustling city / planet Xandria)?  What were the chances of this happening?  Yet, here we are, strangers, together after all these years.  I still remember the last time we (met / spoke / wrote)….

It had been 12 years since I had seen Amelia, my best friend from birth throughout college. I hadn’t planned on spending all those years apart from each other. In fact, we’d always said nothing would ever tear us apart. But they were, I suppose, childish thoughts. Our careers after college had taken off and Amelia’s took her to far off countries whilst mine took me to the big cities. Who would have though we’d meet by accident like this, in a coffee shop – our coffee shop, in the middle of our old hometown. Really, what were the chances of this happening? Sure, we’d both grown up here, gone to school here and even attended college here, but we had each gone our separate ways and moved to opposite sides of the world. Yet, here we are, strangers, together after all these years.

I still remember the last time we saw each other. The day we said goodbye. It was a week after graduation, and we were both excited, thinking of our future prospects and talking of all the traveling we would get to do. That was until we realised it was the last day we’d see each other because Amelia had been offered a job over in Egypt, her plane leaving the next day.

We kept in contact for a couple of years, but by our fourth year out of college, I didn’t even know what country she was in let alone what she was doing with her life. I continued on with my life, and made new friends, but no one seemed to be able fill that hole left by my estranged best friend. I moved to three different cities before finally marrying, having two beautiful girls and coming back home to settle down with my young family.

Time seemed to freeze when I looked up to see Amelia enter Amara’s Cafe. Her surprise and shock mirrored my own and she made a beeline straight for me. We embraced tightly, and in those few short moments, years of emptiness and longing seemed to disappear and hole in my life healed by it’s creator. We have been here at the coffee shop for upwards of three hours now. Talking and gossiping as though no time had past. Except it had. We talked of our time after college, the sights we had both seen and the families we’d begun.

She had told me she just moved back a week ago, making the move as soon as she found out she was pregnant. And into the same house she grew up in no less. I moved back into my childhood home as well about a year ago, and had learned plenty about our old friends to catch her up on all of the towns latest gossip.

The Archaeologist and the Historian together again. Like no time had past.

The latest IAWTW Challenge from Chris Donner! I think I rambled for a bit too long, but that’s okay! Hope you’ve enjoyed this weeks challenge response! 🙂

Amber. xx

IAWTW: Characters

Last week I challenged you to come up with some plots off the theme “Pat always knew this day would come”.  Now I challenge you to pick the one you liked the best and describe Pat.

So pick your favorite plot, sit back, close your eyes for a moment and then tell us who Pat is.

My name is Hypatia Gwen Amira. I am 18 years old and I was kidnapped four years ago. I’m still with my captors in fact, though it is now by choice. While living deep in the Eastern Woods, I’ve learnt many things, including some harsh truths about my dear Mother, who my father truly was, how to control the gifts I was born with and who my handsome, masked kidnapped was.

I have spent the last four years in hiding with my captors, who I now call friends, in an old wizard’s manor that stretches far and wide beneath the ground – the door to which lay concealed by magic against the bark of a tall tree. Kalen, my handsome kidnapper, says that I’m loosely related to wizards. Very loosely.. Yet no one knows exactly what kinds of being my father was. Nor I for that matter. They do know one thing though, apart from having family resemblance, I also bare two strange markings seen only on my father before me: three small gold dots under my right eye and a swirly sort of circular pattern on my left arm that seems to get more defined the older I get, but is as yet, still indistinguishable.

Aside from those strange markings, I also have my father’s hair: raven coloured locks that are pulled straight by the weight of the hair that falls down to my waist, and his eyes: icy blue orbs riddled with golden flecks. My small frame and pale skin are where I resemble my Mother the most. But that is where my resemblance to her stops.

When I first made the decision to stay with those who stole me in the night, my name was changed. From my Mother’s maiden name, Lamira, we dropped the first letter to make, Amira. At it’s core, Kalen and the others told me that Lamira means evil whereas Amira means Princess. “A much more fitting name!” He said to me happily. And with staying close to my Mother’s name they said it would be a sign of challenge and mockery. Seeing as she married into royalty through my Father by use of magic and deception.

No one calls me Pat anymore either. That was my Mother’s nickname for me… I always hated it.

For now, I remain with my friends and teachers. Learning all I can, so that the day I return to the city with my identity known, I will be strong enough to challenge my Mother and anyone else that she has deceived over the years. She wants my gifts? She wants my power and my heritage? She’ll get it. Just, not in the way she’d hoped for.

I hope you’ve enjoyed reading this character description/extended plot from the second IAWTW Challenge from Chris Donner!

Amber. xx

IAWTW: Plots

Recently, blogger/author Chris Donner began a Weekly Writing Challenge called I Always Wanted To Write (IAWTW). My response to the first of the challenges, to write at least three different plots from a prompt, is below.

Imagine the person and what could possibly be happening.  Stretch your writer’s imagination a bit.  Your turn.

Pat always knew this day would come.

  1. The day a Mother’s child was ripped from her arms was the day the war started. Not just any Mother either, but Aisi, the Queen of the Eastern Lands. Only fourteen years old, the daughter was kidnapped by a masked soldier who barely made it from the castle with both the child and his life. But Pat always knew this day would come. For she had seen it, many years ago.
  2. Pat always knew this day would come. Seeing the feathers in her brother’s bed could only mean one thing. She had been hoping he wouldn’t turn out like her. He was too young, too out of control. He could never keep this a secret let alone understand what it meant, or the responsibilities for that matter. She would now have to teach him, try to explain and warn him. Their parents couldn’t help, they’d disappeared and unless she could control her little brother, they would disappear also. She couldn’t ask her Aunt for help either, but she had to do something. She had no choice, not now that her brother had sprouted wings..
  3. This was the last straw. Destroying her house, she could handle, having to move countries, she could deal with, killing her boyfriend, too far. No more would she run, no more would she hide from him. No more would she try to have a normal life – he had destroyed that anyway. It was time she finally stood up and fought back. So long she had been trying to deny her destiny, to deny the strength coursing through her veins. Today that all changed. Pat always knew this day would come eventually. Today, she began the hunt for her ex-husband.

Well I hope you enjoyed these completely spontaneous and very strange, random little plots. Haha. Stay tuned for this week’s challenge coming up soon. (:

Amber. xx

FWF: And The Cow Says…

I’ll always remember the day the two-legged girl with lots of hair first came to see me. She bought a few leaves of a crunchy, tasty goodness. She bought me a fresh leaf everyday she visited my home keeping her distance at first but coming a little closer every time.

When she would come, she would stay for a while, often singing a beautiful tune or just talking to me even though she knows I cannot respond and thinks that I cannot understand. But I can.

One day the girl came to me bearing lots of the tasty leaves and after singing to me told me her name was Amber. She then decided to give me a name also and from then on I was known by her and even the two other two-legged people as Ella.

After many, many days of listening to her songs, hearing her fantastical stories and eating the leaves she bought me, she begun to come less often. She still came to visit me every day she visited my home. A farm I think they called it. But she came to the farm a lot less often.

Eventually she just stopped coming. And eventually I moved. I was moved into a new home with new two-legged people. I didn’t get any tasty leaves, just the usual grass. I didn’t get any songs, just the birds and the bees. I didn’t get any stories, just my own thoughts. And I didn’t get another name.

But I was happy. I was Ella the Heifer and I had been fortunate to meet and spend time with Amber, the hairy, two-legged girl.

Amber. xx

Okay, I was crying by the end of this. ): Haha, aw.
This story has been created from another prompt, although the content itself is mostly true.

Credits for the prompt, And The Cow Says… (Week 47), belong to Kellie Elmore with her prompts page Free Write Friday . A page that I think I shall be writing from on Friday from now on! (:

The Girl Who Danced With Fire

There once was a girl
who danced with Fire.
To dance with her Dad
was her greatest desire.

A day then came when
her dear Dad was killed.
And with dark revenge
her sweet heart was filled.

The killers had fire
their flames a deep red.
Whilst her flames she danced with
were bright gold instead.

This young girl would dance
with her flames no more.
She would fight with the fire
to this she now swore.

She would hunt them all down
her Dad’s killer’s four.
Until they were dead
all dead to their core.

The first poetry I’ve ever written. It’s not great or anything, but I just quickly wrote it for a page in my visual arts diary for class and I decided to put it up here as a result. 🙂 It is also a poem to go with the first snippet of writing as well.

Amber. xx

My Gypsy Queen.

The moonlight broke through the clouds illuminating each step I took as I strode towards my beloved. We met at the same place what felt like every night but was truly once a week. I came here more often during the day to see her though we can barely share a few words before she must get back to work and attend to the curious children and their skeptical parents.

The lights of the main tent light up the sky as I close in on the circus. Just as I begin to see the lights of the smaller tents and caravans, my love comes into view. Standing in the middle of the bridge and looking out over the moat as usual. The circular moat surrounding the circus looks like an amazing coincidence to most, but once you get to know the circus folk and study the waters carefully, you’ll know it’s not just a coincidence. After all, the circus has been in this very spot for longer than anyone realises.

Hearing my footfalls as I stepped on the bridge, my love spoke to me softly; her words carried to me by the gentle breeze.

“Things are changing, my love. I fear the circus may not survive here much longer.”

Startled by her words, I quickly replied,” whatever do you mean Esmeralda? The circus has been here for centuries!”

She turned to face me, her words as gentle as the last. “That is has, but things are changing. They sky is darkening and it would not do us well to remain here as we are.”

“What do you mean? Where will you go if not here? Will you take me with you?”

My love drew closer and cupped my face in her hands. Titling her head upward to meet my eyes, she gave me a warm but strained smile. “You know I could not take you with me wherever it is we go. I do not even know if we will leave this place; our home of so many years. But, my love, if I must leave, we will be no more.”

I studied my darling Esmeralda as her words settle in. Her deep green eyes staring at me so lovingly, yet if trouble befell the circus she would be lost to me forever. Drinking her in for what felt like the last time, I noted her dark skin set off by the array of colours that clothed her body. She was wearing her favourite ‘gypsy costume’ a full skirt of several different layers and materials of various shades of greens, blues, pinks and purples complementing a corset style top with green and yellow ribbons creating a criss-cross pattern across her chest and pieces of black lace draped haphazardly over her arms.

My love was beautiful. But I was going to lose her! To whatever it is that is threatening the circus.

“Let me leave with you, my love! Or at least let me fight whatever it is that’s coming so you can stay. I could not live if we were to part ways!” I pleaded.

With a slight laugh, she replied, “ah, my dear. Ever so brave and willing to fight for me. But I’m afraid that if something comes, you will be no match for it. Which is why we, the circus, would be leaving.” Esmeralda paused. “I love you dear Alfie, but it is time for me to retire to my bed. Goodnight, my love. We will speak again.”

The last words she said to me before she retreated back into the circus encampment.

I went to visit her the next day, to see her smile; a smile that could light up the room. I reached the bridge to find the circus was gone. And with it, my love. My Gypsy Queen.

Amber. xx

Thanks to my friend Harriet for the prompts: colourful, gypsy and bridge.
This one was finished after my usual bedtime so the writing got so much worse as it went. And rather obviously too, I must say! : P

My Mother Always Told Me Not To Play With Fire…

… but that’s a little difficult when you’ve inherited your father’s passion and talent for fire-dancing. Fire-dancing. Using that term makes it sound like a circus trick and to most people, that’s probably all they think when I perform on the street. But to me it’s so much more, runs so much deeper. To me, it’s more magical than anything else.

When I was younger, I’d always wished I was a fairy or a princess, or something that I knew I’d never be. When I was eight I finally got my wish. Well.. sort of.

Just after my seventh birthday, my Father began to take me with him to his street performances. He used to ask me to help him with props and the like. He could do with a ball of fire what no other could do with a small flame and I was in awe. After a few months he began explaining to me how he created such stunning displays of flaming art. And on my eighth birthday, he began to teach me how.

After a month or so, I was creating fire from nothing. Not a candle, not a match nor a speck of ember.

“It’s magic!” I exclaimed to my father the first time I achieved this incredible feat.

“That it is, my child.” He replied.

For months we practised together, him teaching me all he new, and me with my wild, young imagination creating pictures and dances the likes of which he’d never seen. Then one day it all stopped.

Mother told me my Father was killed by fire whilst practising his dancing out in the field. Which was, in part, true.

Though my Mother knows not, I was there that day and I know exactly what happened. My Father wasn’t killed by his own fire, nor was he killed out in the field where he was found. No, he was killed in a warehouse down by the docks and the deed was done by two cloaked men and a cloaked woman. They were fire-dancers also; at least, that’s what I thought at first. But their fire was not the bright warm colours my Dad and I danced with, they were a deeper, darker shade of red and muddy brown and were tinged with a rich purple. They could not create fire themselves either, they had small viles hanging from their necks containing a small flame of the same threatening colour.

These were not friends to my Father nor I. They murdered my Father, and for that they will pay.

After my Father had passed, I took to the streets performing on my own to help my mother keep a roof over our heads and food on our table. It was then that she first began telling me that I should not to play with fire anymore; scared I would suffer the same fate as my Father.

I did not heed her advice, not for many months. Until today. While my Mother and I were out of town visiting her sister, our house was burned down and many of the townsfolk were harassed with questions about our whereabouts to which no one could answer.

They were looking for me. The three people in cloaks. Looking for me to finish the job they failed to do when they killed my Father seven months ago.

Today, I’m finally taking Mother’s advice. There will be no more playing with fire, no dancing with my dear friend.

From today, I fight with fire.

Amber. xx

Thanks to Writer’s Digest for the prompt.