Emica Kana is 18 years old. She has always loved writing stories., They were her escape from reality. She always wished that a man would come and save her like they always do in the stories.
Well, she got her wish.
Emica entered a small writing school that was near a river. Her friend had joined her. But, the teacher had an odd vibe around him. Emica became a little scared of him. She especially became scared when the teacher started to pay more attention to her. One day, when she runs from him, she falls into a world of adventure, risk, and abnormalities. 
But, her teacher is what scares her more than this new world. What secrets and schemes did he use to get her here?

(I'm gonna talk a bit about my personal journey so if you guys are not interested, then just skip to the tips.) 
Like many normal teenagers, I had gone through an awkward phase. Sad thing is, I went through it in grade 9, so most of the people in my high school still remember my awkward phase. (I'm in grade 12 now.) But after looking at pictures from that dark time, I realised that my face didn't change at all. It was my style, my mannerisms, and my hair. I also found a deeper meaning in those changes. So here's what I found that made the difference between awkward phase me and glown up me:

1. A fail proof hairstyle is plain, natural hair. 😻 Also try all lengths of hair by cutting it to shoulder length first (or longer if you are scared) and then growing it out. See which stage you like best. (I don't think this would work with afro hair. I've never had friends who have afro hair.) I love a YouTube video for tips on this. Please comment to let me know if you guys are interested in it

2. Try to get contact lenses. 👀 I know some people suit glasses. I personally don't. But getting contacts really helps if you have oily skin and glasses just keep slipping down your nose. Or if you are like me, with 800 degrees myopia, then ditching heavy glasses feels so good. Getting contact lenses also allow me to go crazy without worrying about it flying off my face. 

3. Don't use makeup for the sake of using makeup. Use it according to your needs, your face, and your style. Also, keep in mind your overall outfit. Sometimes, a loud outfit with a loud makeup can take over your body and hide you. You want people to see you, not your makeup. Of course, there are exceptions such as creative makeup. 

4. Be mindful while shopping. 💸Just because something looks good, doesn't mean it will look good on you. Also avoid fast fashion to save up for more quality items. Always check for the quality of fabrics, the color scheme of your closet, and what you usually wear. If you don't wear skirts, don't buy a skirt. I also love a YouTube video for tips on this. Please comment to let me know you guys are interested. 

5. Work out.💦 You don't have to aim for losing weight or gaining curves. Working out enhances your metabolism, the lines on your arms and legs (makes you look extra sexy), and improves your complexion. You will radiate from the inside out. Working out doesn't have to be tiring or tedious too. You can try dancing, cycling, stretching (splits are cool!), etc. 

6. Commit to a hobby.🔥 Mine would be piano, which I started playing when I was three. During my awkward phase, I wasn't practicing at all and I was embarrassed to tell people I had been learning it since I was three and I actually have certificates for it. REALLY COMMIT TO A SKILL PLEASE! Also, don't underestimate the amount of money your special skill can bring you!! I received 500RMB once for winning an award in a writing competition, plus 100RMB for being a volunteer at the award ceremony. XD

7. Please listen to your mother when she says you look bad.💯 She's probably right. I can't express how many style mistakes I made because of not listening to her. 

8. Be more reserved. 😶Talk only when you have something meaningful to say. My awkward phase consists a lot of me blurting out dumb, hypocritical, ignorant, and sometimes offensive things. I think this is why I didn't have friends. Also, if you are not sure if your opinion on something is right (as in, in consideration of all perspectives and not on an ignorant basis), ask questions. It's always fun to get to know what others think. But if you don't have the ability to recognise your ignorance, then I can't help you. Only time and maturity can help you at this point. 🙄

9. Take care of your skin.💦 Depending on where you live, you might not need a skincare routine. Taking care of your skin does not necessarily means buying products and putting them on your face. Taking care of your skin can be applying body lotion, washing your face with a simple face wash as soon as you get home (gets rid of pollutants), clipping your bangs up for sports (avoids forehead pimples), not touching your face, etc. 

10. Do your eyebrows.💯 If you are born with perfect eyebrows, don't touch them. But I had a uni brow. For beginners, personally I feel like it's better to use a small brow shaver instead of a tweezer. It does not hurt as much and if you fail, your hair grows out faster. If you can afford, get your brows done for the first time at a salon, then follow the shape at home when it grows out. 

These are the tips I have. Hope you guys liked them. Please give constructive feedback if there's anything I can improve. Thank you for reading, lovelies!! 💋

I've never really written about myself before. I don't know if it's cause I don't really value myself enough? Or because I'm not a narcissist? I think I over think myself.

Can you tell I'm a little odd? Well I've never really wanted to do anything, not anything worth value anyway. I mean I've got no skills to speak of, this is really the only thing I really enjoy. Except for other... slightly less acceptable things. (if you catch my drift)

I am a writer, and not a very good one. But lets get into this.

I love writing, when I was a highschool student I found it as a kind of... escape. writing that first story helped this shitty Author through a lot of deep shit I will get into later.

So, ever heard of Wattpad? Well that's where it all started for me. I was introduced to the app by a mutual friend of mine, lets call her H. She was writing Adult stories, use in the business call... Smut. it's kind of like fifty shades of grey with terrible writing. She asked a Friend and I to read it, and I did. But the first thing that was on my mind was that I wanted to do that.

NO NOT WHAT SHE WROTE ABOUT. I wanted to take a crack at writing, English was one of my favorite subjects in school. I loved reading but had an average reading level. So, I set up a Wattpad account. My first account has a pretty weird name, all because I rushed it.

I needed a name for the app, I was too embarrassed to go by my real name. So I used my Ps4 user name. RedisDead, but I fucking spelt it Readisdead. That was my first account.

Now the only time I had ever tried my hand at writing was in the 8th grade, creative writing section of English. Plus it was a short story, so I was running on ideas that were pretty, cliche. 

Story Number 1- Prince of the Sun and Moon
I wanted to say that this story does not in fact, have anything to do with the sun or moon. I wrote this because I was on an Anime binge, specifically magic Academy ones. Remember the magic Academy thing, that will be a main concept for my other "creations" later.

I don't really know what to say about this one, it's one my first stories and was my first attempt at fantasy. Let me tell you, I can't get enough of fantasy. Nothing makes you feel better about your sad life than creating a new one for your imaginary characters to run wild in.

Thinking back to how I was then... I feel bad, I was going through a lot of emotional problems. 

I was a shut in, I can't say for certain what happened but one day I just decided I would rather stay inside my room then go outside and play. I never really made friends, but being bullied by everyone in your grade can cause that. People were always nice in highschool though, I think they might have felt bad. Or they were making themselves look better infront of everyone else. Being nice to the weird kid, congrats.

So, you can guess that if I didn't like those people you bet your ass I never felt attracted to anybody. But I did fall for a new kid. 

Will call her K for now. That smile... she was weird, but a hot kind of weird you know? She was quirky and funny and had a face that made my heart melt like butter in a microwave. She was chubby too, like a cute little marshmallow.

But looks can be deceiving. Wish I would have known that before falling in love but hey, does anyone?

She wasn't always a terrible person. But my class has a way of bringing the worst out of people. Or maybe it was my fault? 

Fuck, if your reading this what would you say K? I need the answers but we don't talk.

okay, lets look at this from my perspective.
She was always nice to me, I mean REALLY nice. laughing at my stupid jokes and always greeted me with a smile. But my dumb idiot brain did register that SHE FUCKING LIKED ME!!

Okay so eventually she started wearing longer sleeved jackets all the time, she started acting differently. Started ignoring me occasionally, called me annoying and being rude.

Then I saw something that broke my heart. Her arms, they were sliced up. Not alot but still, she was cutting. I expressed my concern for her but she gave me the cold shoulder. 

A couple weeks go by and she skips school here and there I don't see her, then the day that makes me hate myself. Now I promise you, she did not kill herself. This is not one of those stories.

I'm excited she's back at school and I see her again. I catch her when she's taking off her hoody and... She lost weight, alot of weight.

It finally hit, she's dealing with depression. But why? Did someone call her fat or something? 
This pisses me off, I'm a pacifist by nature at this point but I'm ready to throw down.

But now that I have a little more clarity on the situation, I sometimes think me. 
See a couple months later I make a new friend. Call this guy... F.

He's tall and actually funny once you get to know him. He's actually still one of my closest friends.

I introduce F to K, they hit it off and eventually start dating. I kind of stop talking to F because he starts dating the girl I'm in love with but that's not important.

what is the fact that a month or two into them dating that K tells me something. Something that spirals me into a deep depression for a long time.

K-"So do you like me?"
Me-"yeah your one of my best friends!"
K-"you know what I mean like LIKE me. Because when I first met you I had feelings for you."

What the actual fuck? She's dating my BEST FUCKING FRIEND and tells me this shit? Not cool man, is this some kind of way to torture me?

Ever since they got together she seemed to be back to normal. So I was happy, but deep down I wished I was him. Comment if you ever felt like this. I would love to talk to someone about it.

Honesty? I felt pathetic, worthless. If I had worked up the courage I would be the one getting kissed. I kept telling myself I wasn't ready. But forget how I felt, lets go back to K.

she had suddenly lost weight. Alot of weight, treated me different.

Is it my fault? Did she think I didn't feel that way because she was slightly over weight? She dropped the weight because of me. That's how I felt but right now, I know that's the case. She didn't really care about me or F all she cared about was herself. Get all the attention she believed she needed. She had Mommy issues. 

Think I'm being harsh? She straight up cheated on F and broke up with him. Then to make matters worse... She ran away for two weeks.

This unfortunate series of events destroyed F, he hated himself. Let's put the kind of man he was into perspective. He didn't take shit from anyone, he liked to laugh and was happy to make others laugh. But when she ran away from home he locked up.

I'm not using names on purpose, because I don't want people who I know to read this and get mad. But I want to tell you this, the human heart is fragile. 

I say this because we laugh about it now. F, I'm glad your alive man.

F was five feet from killing himself. He went home the day he found out and dug out his dads old 45. He was ready to pull that trigger.

F is a strong ass dude, he managed to put the gun down. Put it away, he's only ever told me this. So for the sake of my friendship... Don't read this F. 

Well. That's all for now my friends, I'd tell you more but I think it got a little dark there.

Kind of a set of me talking about... well me and my Boring life as someone who found a way to cope with life by writing

The language learning course which tested the ability of the students' minds to read, and comprehend a certain text, acknowledged the variety of literary pieces across the world, expressed one's sentiments, and viewpoints through creative writing, and gave up a speech to the public with a required self-confidence and charisma had conquered the class of Yeats.

"English Time!" a classmate exclaimed.

"Ugh. Why on earth..." Noah said, lying her head onto the armrest.

The teacher had arrived with her male student who assisted her to carry on her stationery materials and left afterwards. 

She expressed her warmest greeting to the class, "Good morning, everyone."

"Gooood Morningggg, Ma'am Rhea," the entire students responded in dullness, deliberately prolonging the words.

"Again, good morning, Yeats."

"Good Morning, Ma'am Rhea! We are happy to see you today!"

The teacher nodded, and commanded them, "Okay, you may now take your seats."

"So Yeats, in this period, we would be having an activity, and I'm sure you would definitely love to hate this one."

The students plastered a counterfeit grin on their faces as they listened to their teacher's introduction. It looked as if their incoming task would be an "easy yet a lazy job" for them.

"You will be composing an original poetry! Isn't beautiful? A form of art of regurgitating all your personal experiences, feelings, aspirations, and showing off your ideals and visions of the world around us by using a piece of paper and a pen. What lies ahead of our future? Who shall be the one to pass this on for the next generation. It's only you, the young ones. As our beloved national hero, Dr. Jose Rizal quoted, 'The youth is the hope of our nation'," Ma'am Rhea Azuela dramatically spoke, and her fists were firmly closed.

Everyone groaned with the exemption of Ma'am Rhea whose energy was trying hard to somehow radiate the entire classroom.

"Hmm... Okay, you only have two options: To create or not to create. My role as a teacher is simply taking down of your grades and morals in your report card. If you want a failing grade, why not? I'll give it to you. Other than that, what does youth always say? You only live once, eh? So, I won't stop you from not submitting your requirement," Ma'am Rhea shrugged.

"Anyways, for those who wished to conform to the task, listen up. Before you start writing, I would love to give a bit of a background about our today's lesson. I'm sure most of you familiar with them. We've known different lyrical poems, epic poems and etcetera. Now, I'll ask you. What is haiku? Anyone?"

"Just give me a gist of it."

Students were staring at each other's eyes, and no one dared to speak. Few were looking at the white board. Most were avoiding an eye contact from their instructor. Some of them were gaping at the outside of the room. Ma'am Rhea whined and continued.

"Guys, you have to talk. Remember, this is an English class. You have to hone your communication skills. How are you going supposed to learn if you don't utilize your mouths? Ha? Come on. No answers are wrong in language. It's more on thoughts and ideas that we should express. You should be engaging more on interaction. And pretty please, let's help each other out. Don't leave me hanging guys, Okay?"

"Now, any thoughts from this group?" she asked, looking at the first row. Ma'am Rhea was about to choose her lucky victim when one of her students raised her right hand, "Ma'am."

"Yes, Miss? What do you think? What is haiku?"

"May I go to the comfort room?" the wench replied.

Some of the senior high students were retaining their soon-to-be-bursted laughter. Ma'am Rhea sighed, and said, "Yes, you may."

The young lass stood up straight, and said, "But, If I am not mistaken, haiku refers to a five-seven-five syllable count in a one three-phrase stanza. It is also originated in Japan."

"Again, thank you for your permission, Ma'am."

The schoolgirl went to the school comfort room, leaving the entire class in amusement. Ma'am Rhea snapped her fingers to get back her little ones' focus.

"That's my girl! She got it right. Finally, someone saved you from danger, eh?" the teacher cunningly grinned, and the student were then relieved. 

"And since this is a surprise activity, you need not to compose a haiku. Still, it is included in your quarterly exams. Instead, I challenge you to write a poem. Freestyle. Whether you want to have your piece that consists of a rhyme, or a regular meter. It's up to you. Make sure it has three stanzas. Do you understand me, Yeats?"

Dassah lifted up her hand up, and called, "Ma'am."

"Yes, Miss Dassah?"

"What would the topic be about?" the student asked.

"Hmm... Good question," Ma'am Rhea nodded, and began considering a great theme for her class's written poetry. Suddenly, a brilliant idea popped up. She smiled and responded to her student.

"It should be based on your personal experience. For example, your bonding with your family and friends. Maybe you want to write about your life as a student, and whatsoever. The sky's the limit."

"So, any questions?"

The class replied, "None."

"Okay. You may now start. And please let me check your composition before the bell rings whether it is done or not. I'll give a plus point and a secret award for those who could create a finished piece," Ma'am Rhea announced, and sat down on her chair to relax her voluptuous legs.

"Ma'am, what is the reward?" one man asked.

"It won't be confidential anymore, if I'll tell you, mister," she said.

The students proceeded writing on their mandatory art work. Creative juices were flooding up inside of their right brains. Tearing papers were echoing everywhere in the section. Loud mental groans from every school teens dominated in the class. Frustration mixed with determination to make a possible masterpiece were obviously transparent on their hopeless faces. Dassah who eventually ended her write-up stood up from her armchair, and submitted it to her English teacher. 

Ma'am Rhea was impressed, and took her ample time to read her three-stanza poem. As she perused Dassah's work, she smiled in delight.

"Miss Quinn."

"Yes, Ma'am?"

"I have a dumb question," the instructor said. She glanced at her unknowing student in mischief, and continued her talk.

" Are you in love?"

"NO WAY, MA'AM," Dassah yelled at her teacher. Her classmates instantly shifted their gaze at the two. She became flustered, and softly spoke, "Umm... Sorry, ma'am. I was just shocked. But, no, I am not, ma'am."

"And what makes you think that I'm uh..."

Ma'am Rhea replied, still smiling, "In love?"

Dassah slowly nodded in embarrassment,"Uh-huh."

"It's just my assumption. It seems the message of your poem conveys about a clichè romance like this love at first sight kind of scene. Ah. Reminds me of my first young love,"  Ma'am Rhea Azuela said, feeling the nostalgia of her past teen era.

"And, what's even more interesting is that I instructed you to have a poem that talks about your life encounters." Dassah's teacher continued.

"Then, I thought I might be wrong, so which is why I asked you."

Dassah again nodded as an abiding servant, and the English teacher spoke again herself, "So, mind if I ask you the story behind this piece of yours?"

"Um... Sure, Ma'am. But, it already says it all," Dassah said.

"It's basically this. I met a guy at a convenience store, and I did not forsee anything that we would see each other for the second time around. And for me, I was happy it happened for the both of us."

Ma'am Rhea could no longer hide her squeals, and let it out without any reservation.

"Oh, ignore my giggles. The story was too cute. But hey, Miss Quinn. This is your prize," she commented, and gestured her to move closer. Dassah came near to her instructor in obedience.

"You'll present it to the other class."

"Ma'am?!" Dassah exclaimed in terror.

"Shh... Don't tell anyone," she warned the young lady.

"But, but..."

Ma'am Rhea smiled, and said, "You may go back to your seat, Miss Quinn."

Dassah heaved a sigh of defeat, and move herself back to her armchair.  Floating her countless regrets of submitting her poem, the young lady had enough of the trap, and let the situation sail by itself.

Dassah Quinn had left no choice but to stay with a perfect stranger. Yearning for someone who would help them get out of trouble and leave the olden storage room is her gleam of hope. 

In the course of incarceration, Dassah unexpectedly entailed herself in a scheme of discerning the nondescript man, One One.

I'm Halle. I'm a 14 year old 8th grader. I like to read romance, comedy, thriller, and nerdy novels. I absolutely love tea, especially Arizona Sweet Tea. I can eat peanut butter with anything and I like skateboarding. I live in a small town in the countryside. It's constantly raining, with occasional rain in the summertime. I have a large family that consists of 34 cousins on my dad's side of the family with three aunts and two uncles. My dad's mother has married seven times. She has been widowed and divorced. My grandfather was divorced by her because he was an alcoholic. She raised my father and his siblings with little money, in a small home. On my mother's side I have eight great aunts and uncles. My mother is an only child, my grandparents had divorced when she was still a minor. I have an older brother and my parents are still happily married. I have many pets consisting of chickens, horses, donkeys, guinea pigs, dogs, cats, and goats. My family used to have a male cow but he was sold. Growing up my mother was often told that her dearest daughter had angelic features. I'm told that I was very well behaved besides me being the pickiest eater the world has ever seen with an OCD towards everything. During this year I have been told that I have an angelic smile and I have been reminded many times of how I have very small ears and long fingers. I've been told that it is impossible for anyone to hate me, since I am, and I quote "the nicest person on Earth." Just like any stereotypical girl, I like Starbucks, but I believe that besides this, I am not stereotypical. I can hardly say I wear makeup since the only thing I ever put on my face is mascara and lotion. I'm a pretty natural person, meaning I'm not planning to ever have plastic surgery and I rarely use facial masks. I don't wash my face with any special skin care treatment soaps or whatever girls use. I simply just wash my face with plain soap. I've been told by many people I have beautiful hair. People can even tell who I am without looking at my face since my hair is so 'unique'. I have curly hair that most girls would LOVE to have. You know how when you curl your hair it makes those perfect curls that look like the swirly slide on a playground, well that's what I have. My hair used to be bleach blonde. As I got older my hair darkened turning to light blonde, then dirty blonde, extremely dirty blonde, and now light brown. My hair was slow in growth since I can remember having hair. In 5th grade my hair went down to my hips. That's when I decided to cut six inches off in length. My hair has grown back, not as long as before but still pretty long. I never blow dry, straighten, or curl my hair, since I like to keep it 'natural'. I simply wash it with shampoo and conditioner then brush it normally after it air dries. Unlike the other teenagers of my age, I'm not the biggest fan of junk food. I used to ONLY eat junk food when I was younger, and my mom was just thankful that I ate any food at all since I was underweight and a picky eater. Eating junk food leaves a bad aftertaste in my mouth. I occasionally have ramen, chocolate, and ice cream, but other than that I'm a pretty healthy eater. I participate in the sports of basketball, volleyball, soccer, and gymnastics. I'm a very quiet person and I tend to only speak when spoken to. I usually never initiate a conversation. I'm a straight A student in advanced Language Arts and Math classes and I have been recommended to be put in an advanced Chemistry class. I'm a massive animal lover, to the point where in my science class when we were observing deceased creatures in beakers, I noticed a deceased mouse and sparrow, leading to me hiding my tears for the majority of the period. When people have crushes on me they are usually normal but this year I've had either perverted or weird people with crushes on me. These same people have liked me for the past three years (since 6th grade). I have no interest AT ALL in being in a romantic relationship, yet I still wish that instead of perverted weirdos liking me that actual NORMAL people would seek my attention. You could say that I am a country girl since I do, in fact, own and use a lasso, cowgirl hat, cowgirl boots, and I ride horseback. In 6th grade I used to be obsessed with the thought of me being a country girl, and I would wear plaid flannels with bootcut jeans and my cowgirl boots. Everyday I wear the same sweatshirt and jeans, with the same black converse that I wear everyday. I will occasionally wear ripped jeans with a t-shirt and possibly gray vans. My best friend's mother had told her to stop dressing like a hoe, and I quote "should dress more like Adriana." Besides me having nice hair and nice facial features, my pleasant smelling self has added to my "perfect" image. I have been told countless times that I smell good, like pumpkin spice, and another best friend of mine's brother told me that I "smell good, like girl." I've also been told that I have a great personality and that I'm "weird" but a good weird "like a weird that makes people laugh and smile." I have so many things to brag about, like how when my family went to Alaska, my mother, grandmother, and I were leaving a gift shop and the woman at the front counter told my grandmother that "that girl has beautiful hair" which led to my granny proudly telling the woman "that's my granddaughter." Another perfect thing about me is that I like to play the piano and write poems. Some of the poems I have written consist of "My Thanksgiving Feast: 
Oh what a special day
When we feed the beasts
In our stomachs they lay
Oh what a special day
When we eat then sleep then chat away
In mountains, and fields my soul may lay
So that thy Lord shall take me away
To a place where colors have no gray
In the Fall with leaves and rain
Pumpkin pie and fields of hay
When Winter comes it's fields of snow
With presents and holly
Candy canes, cookies, and jolly
Then spring comes with yards to mow
Rain will fall and flowers will grow
Lilies and roses for Valentine's cheer
Spring will end and summer will join
With hot days at the lake and cousins who jeer
And celebrate the 4th of July and American tears
Then back to fall with spooks and scares
And after that we come back to this day
With turkey and thanks and a feast celebrate
Then again with a process, a cycle all year
And come back to this day once again next year.

Another poem I've written is:
The stars in your eyes could make even the sun fall for you
A kiss from your lips would light my heart on fire
Your smile is as warm as roasted chestnuts by the fire
Your the sun in my orbit,
I revolve around you
You have a special place in my solar system and I've fallen for you
So in other words I Love You.

Another:
I heard it's your birthday and I'm not one to be rude
So I wrote this poem and it's all about you
You have pretty blue eyes, brown hair, and white teeth
Your eyebrows are thick and your charisma is sweet
You're cool and you're kind and I can't find a rhyme
So happy birthday ___.

I shall continue to brag with a note that some family friends had written for me:
There are so so many "Reese"ons why people love to be with you. Your smile lights up a room.
Your laughter is like sunshine. Your sweet nature and kind example reminds others to show kindness. Your fun, light hearted attitude is contagious. We love you! Xoxo

Even though I have all these "perfect" traits people still judge me on stupid things like how I write in cursive, "Why are you writing in cursive?" like it's a bad thing that I'm writing in cursive and I shouldn't do it because it's "weird." I also get other stupid comments about my handwriting like "You write your d's and g's weird." because when I write in print I use cursive y's and g's and my d's have always been like that. And people constantly reminding me of how I'm "too innocent and pure" really irritates me, and since I'm passive aggressive I won't tell people to back off and stop pointing out stupid little details about me. I never point out little details about them in prissy little tones so why do it to me. I used to be naive and make friends with everyone and talk to everyone, I never once thought "he's so weird" or "ugh he really irritates me" but these sly little comments people are trying to pass as "innocent opinions" are taking my kindhearted personality for granted. Why are you just now pointing these things out and why do you care? It's just how I am so stop judging me.

Instead of writing a novel I decided to talk about myself. Thinking about what to write gives me writer's block. And everything I think of is way too similar to other people's writing ideas. "Tomboy meets bad boy" "Gangsters little mistress" "New to town". Nothing is original enough in my head. I can't make a comic because I'm bad at drawing and I don't like drawing. I only like writing poetry and ever since the 4th grade I've really enjoyed writing short stories but this is a challenge. I have to write a 10 thousand to 20 thousand word novel and submit it within 10 days. I don't HAVE to write it, but I want the prize of 800 coins so I can read more of the novels I enjoy. Because if it's one thing I know, it's that I love to read. The stories that people create on webnovel are so creative and it just shows how talented these people are. These people have absolutely FANTASTIC ideas and I wish I at least had an OUNCE of their creativity. I know that when submitting an original novel I will only have the slightest chance of getting the prize of 800 coins. In this massive vast ocean of creativity I have a 1/1,000,000 chance of being noticed. And with that being said I still have hope that I'll be noticed by at least someone. The beginning of my speech massively talks about my perfection and is SO boring that even I would have no enjoyment in reading this. But at least one person on this earth is capable of liking this. And they would be an absolute maniac to do so. I mean like they must have some MASSIVE mental issues. But I actually enjoyed writing this, it brought out my frustrated and tired emotions I've been pushing down for the sake of people's feelings. I HATE hurting people's feelings. While writing I've also been listening to classic rock from the '60s, '70s, and '80s. I've also been drinking iced chai tea with Minecraft music playing in the background. Fun fact about me, I like video games. This could be a flaw in some eyes, but it could also be a good thing in others. I have a PS3, yes I know the "XbOx Is BeTtEr" but this is what I'm stuck with. I'm actually a tomboy and like playing Call of Duty Black OPS II and Minecraft, and since my old Xbox is at my grandma's house, when I visit her I play Tony Hawk skater games. In 5th grade I was at my greatest height of tomboyness. I wore basketball shorts and baggy t-shirts every day with my blue high top converse. And since most of the time it's cold where I live, I would wear athletic leggings under my shorts, and in 6th grade boys started to wear leggings under their shorts too. Everyday I would put my hair up into a ponytail and I'd always call people "bro" and "dude" and I even wore boxer briefs and stole my brother's clothes. The reason why I became a tomboy was because I looked up to my brother A LOT. I wanted to be just like him, even though I'm a girl. I didn't want to change my gender or be called a "guy", but I did want people to notice me as a tomboy. In 6th grade I was less of a tomboy and went to my country girl stage, mixing with the tomboy stage. In 7th grade I became somewhat "normal" and would wear ripped jeans and sweatshirts just like the other girls. I even started wearing mascara. That same year I started to develop a "thing" for redheads, and to this day I'm still into redheads. I mean their hair is so unique and their eyelashes aren't BROWN OR BLACK AND IT"S AMAZING. Which brings me to my "crush" list. In 7th grade I decided to write down all of my crushes and say what I liked about them. All of them were athletic and cute so you could tell my "type."
1st: "I have a crush on P. He's tall, thin, cute, handsome, and I THINK he's nice and funny, plus he's a football player. In a game of capture the flag P got tagged by the other team, so I ran over to tag him back into the game, but I ran into S and got tagged. Someone (I can't remember who) tagged me back in and I tagged P in right away. Out of all my three crushes (note: why the freak did I have three crushes at once, what was wrong with me???) he's second best. P is also dating my friend J though… so that's weird/awkward. She doesn't know though.
2nd: "T is someone I a tiny bit like. He's nice, funny?, sweet and if he was fit (no offence) (note: DANG I was judgmental, one again, what was wrong with me???) he'd be cute, plus he's a football player. I sit next to T in honors ELA and was partnered with him in Technology in the 6th grade. He once for a little while said and told people that I told him to "go drink bleach and die in a hole," (note: what the freak, why is everything in this book weird) which I never actually told him to do, or even thought of it. I think he was imagining things or mistaken me for someone else who told him that. I think he's gotten over that now. He likes to spread the rumor that he has a crush on me, but I know that he will never actually like me. T does wrestling too, but I now only like him as a 'friend'." (Note: he's actually one of my best friends now and he's pretty darn awesome.)
3rd: "E is my ultimate crush. He's nice, sweet, funny, handsome, cute , has dimples, and thinks I'm pretty (note: oh my gosh this entire page is filled with things about him). He's a freshman and I'm only a 7th grader, but I just can't help but like him, like A LOT. Sometimes I have dreams with him in them and I also daydream about him all the time. He kept looking at me in Silverwood (note: that's because you kept staring at him without knowing it you naive girl), but I think that's just because of my indents (note: my indents are the scars I have from when I got molluscum contagiosum, a sickness you get from other little kids). He's good friends with G. E goes to a preparatory school or private school (either one I can't remember)(note:he doesn't; he just goes to a different school than me). He's amazing. When I was in line to go on Aftershock for the first time I was scared and worried but he helped me feel better. The second time I went on Aftershock (on the same day) K went on with me and G wouldn't give up him and E's inner seats but E did. He's so incredible! 
4th: "C has been my friend since we were little kids (I think preschool). He's funny and nice. I think our friendship is one sided. He's one of my best GUY friends. But I think I'm just some annoying girl to him (note: SIGGGHHHH). I like to tease him and do things like punch him in the shoulder (note: no wonder he thinks I'm annoying, gosh). I don't punch him anymore though because I know he doesn't like it (note: DUH). C is a football player and plays video games (which is a plus). His mom likes me. She even asked me to punch him on time.
5th: "H is SO, SO, SO cute. He's not as cute as E but, you know. H is tall and fit (note: no he's not he's chubby). He always wears these camouflage sweatpants. He's SO cool. He has the BEST fake British accent  EVER. Every time he does the accent I fall even more for him. Every time I look at the clock I see from the corner of my eye him making a funny face to me (note: that's because he liked me and so did some other kid in our class). He's nice to me. In gym class whenever I fail to do something he tells me it's alright and, in my mind, supports me. I really like him. But not as much as I like E.

As you can see I was boy crazy.

 --- October 22, 2017/ 3 months ago ---
 
I and my best friend Margie Rose Domingo are walking to the school ground trying to head our way home. I swear I feel so tired and stressed after that long remedial exam given by our professor since he said that our records are hanging low so all his class stayed late just to comply. The whole school surroundings are now starting to darken but few students are also heading home. 
 
"Wow! I can't believe sir did it again. It's already late see, it's already 6:10 and I'm so tired." I said as I fixe my shoulder bag into my right shoulder, I simply look at my friend beside me seeing her also worn out face.
 
"Yap talks about much too much reminders for next semester. Did you take that form they had given us?" my best friend and partner in many crazy things Margie Rose Domingo asks as I just nod and looks at the trail going to the main road.
 
"Well, what can I say? They must be worried we might transfer to another schools. I am starting to get pressured by this course's subjects. The teachers are giving us too expensive projects and such. It's too stressing for me." I said with a deep sigh of weariness while I rub my aching neck.
 
"Forget that, I'm starving. Can we stop for food?" said Rose while she rubs her stomach that made me and her to laugh. 
 
"Say, whoever had the lowest grade in Creative writing shall treat for our meal." Rose said while winking at me, our teacher in that subject is a terror so I bet our grades are hanging.
 
"Game! That's our deal. Make sure you have extra money there alright." I said jokingly while smirking as we both take our class cards in our bags.
 
"Okay, as we agreed the one with a lowest grade shall pay. On the count of three we shall show our class card." Rose said and I nod thinking that I can pay since I have some extra money with me if ever I lose.
 
We both count into three then show our class cards making Rose grunt upon seeing my grade. I smile in triumph seeing that I have an 87 on my creative writing while 86 on Rose' making me do the victory dance we both usually do.
 
"Alright! A deal is a deal no back outs." I said as Rose sigh then smiles nodding.
 
"No problem." Rose said making me look at her in surprise.
 
"A-Are you sure. Don't tell me you got paid with your part time job in that CD store?" I said looking at my hard working friend who has a part time job on the CD store where I usually hang out just to accompany her.
 
"Hmnn yap. Don't worry about it." Rose said making me sigh knowing that my friend is working none stop because of her mother's medication. 
 
We are walking on the side walk when my cellphone starts to ring. I immediately open my bag and take my cellphone out just to look at it in surprise upon seeing my father's caller Id that made me furrow my eyebrows. I reluctantly slides the answer button somehow I don't know why but I feel so nervous, I slowly place my cellphone on my right ear.
 
"Hello pa." I said waiting for him to speak.
 
When I hear what he say I place my cellphone back into my pocket then looks at my friend looking so apologetic.  Rose look at me wondering while I shake my head looking so dismayed.
 
"What's wrong?" Rose said as she looks at me.
 
"Sorry Rose I have to head back home as soon as possible. They said there is something important they need to tell me. Let's eat out next time. I feel bad since this is our last day together." I said as I look at Rose really dismayed.
 
"Too bad, it's already semester break and the school will be on emergency break making it 3 months of break. We won't see each other again for that long. Are you going back to your province straightaway?" Rose said as we continue walking towards the jeep's station.
 
"I don't know; it's just a little bit weird why my parents are here this late without telling me earlier that they will be here. Something must have come up. I'll text you if ever we can get a chance to eat out.�� I sadly said before I wave my friend goodbye. 
 
"Okay, call or text me okay." Rose waves back towards me on the window of the jeep after she sits on the jeep.
 
As I quietly sit on the jeep I start think as to why my parents are here this late and are waiting for me at my uncle Oliver's house. I wonder why they ask me to head home as soon as possible, that I should immediately head to my uncle Oliver's house and not to the boarding house I am staying which is just beside my uncle's house. The tone of my father's voice made me really nervous. He seems to be so sad while I speak to him a while ago. When I arrive at the gate of Uncle Oliver's house I see an expensive car parked into uncle's frond yard, I sigh then I enter the gate quietly.
 
"Odd, do they have a guest today? This is my first time seeing a car like this visiting uncle. Not to mention it is already late. For a guest to be here on a time like this they must be someone close but I never seen this car before." I said in wonder as I look closely to that expensive looking black car.
 
I slowly climb the stairs towards my uncle's porch and then I stop in front of the door. I sigh while I stand near the door of my uncle's house, I am still deciding if I will knock or just press that darn door bell. I don't know why but I feels so nervous, like something ominous is about to happen. Somewhat, I feel so uneasy. I take a deep breath and slowly knock. The door opens revealing my elementary crush, Michael Adamson. He has this sun tanned skin, black clean cut hair, 6'4 height, muscular built, gray eyes and reddish lips. He is what I call a sun tan god.
 
"Hi. Uhmnn Anna this uhmnn warn you.... I-I just want to warn you. B-be ready for anything that will about to happen. Come in." Michael said as he steps aside to let me in. 
 
I feel so nervous most especially when he said that. The way he said it sound like trouble is about to come.
 
"O-kay.... what is going on?" I ask still confused to what he just said, this is the first time Michael talk to me first but the sound of his hoarse voice made me very nervous.
 
"J-Just be ready, because everything you know is about to change." He said with an awkward smile.
 
I am confused upon hearing what he said. This made me even nervous and uneasy, my relationship with Michael ever since elementary is so cold and yah! Nothing at all, we never talked to each other normally. Even from the time he came to stay with my uncle for college and that we see each other every day since we are walking on the same places every time, yet we never have shared a very interesting conversation at all. We seem to feel awkward with each other's presence thus the cold ice we feel every time one is near.
 
"Ah, Michael. W-what do you mean by that? A-are my parents in here?" I ask trying to hide my blushing face and that nervousness I am feeling. 
 
He smiles and signs me towards the kitchen so I now got my answer to where my parents are. 
 
"Th-They have been waiting for you in there. Ahmnnn Anna, good luck." He said making my face burn but at the same time my heart beats fast. 
 
I don't know if it's because Michael talks to me casually for the first time or that he smiled handsomely OR for something else?
 
"R-Right, thanks." I just said acting cool about it.
 
Michael closes the door and he walks towards the sofa right at the living room and sits beside Casper and Ian. Casper, Ian, and Nina are watching a movie; those 3 are my Uncle Oliver's children and my really unsocial cousins but they are cool when you get to be open up with them. Michael on the other hand is related to my Uncle Oliver's family because Michael's father is distant relative of my Uncle Oliver's wife, Aunt Cedes. And when Michael's father died my aunt take him into their house to help him study and she pays for Michael's studies in exchange he must stay to Uncle Oliver's house and help in his shop. Aunt Cedes is abroad so we seldom see her during our stay here.
 
"Anna dear, is that you? Come on here at the kitchen we have been waiting for you." I hear my uncle's call from the kitchen and since their kitchen and living room table are separated with a wall divider, I can't see who are there or if my parents are there. 
 
I take a deep breath when I see my niece Clayra running towards me and then keep on pulling my bag so I had no choice but to let my cute 4 years old niece have it. 
 
"Careful Clayra." I said as I watch how she is struggling to carry my bag towards the sofa where the others are sitting.
 
I slowly walk towards the kitchen divider as Clayra sit on the sofa next to Michael and starts to ransack my bag. I instantly turn red at the thought that Michael is looking into the content of my bag. My so messy and full bag, not to mention all my class cards are there so he can see my not so well but doing fine grades. I see that Clayra found what she is looking for when she stops looking into my shoulder bag and left it scattered on the sofa beside Michael. 
 
"Too messy." I utter almost a whisper looking at my niece's mess.
 
I shake my head and sighs upon seeing all my papers, class cards and notebooks scattered there while Clayra sit happily as she opens the candy she found. Michael looks at me and then he smiles, he starts to pick all my stuff and carefully return it into the bag. When he looks at me I mouth him my thanks before I take one last deep breath before I continue heading towards the kitchen just to see my parents and my 3 siblings, my elder sister Arsey the mother of my niece, my brother Ezzar and my sister Daisy sitting on the wide dining table together with my uncle Oliver and 3 new faces. 
 
"Hel-lo." I softly said as I nervously look at them, I somehow feel uneasy about this.
 
There is this lovely lady who turns to look at me and starts to cry. She has this dark hairs and fair skin; she is wearing a blue dress while her hair is in messy bun. Beside the lady is a man who is patting the lady's back as his eyes gazes at me, weird. The man has this black hair and a tan skin; he is also wearing a formal suit, those types we usually see worn by business men. On the other side of the man is another man, a man in his 50's and is also looking at me..... so weird. In front of the man is a black bag or in business term, a brief case.
 
"Oh don't just stand there dear. Come and sit so we can start... explaining things." My mother Mary Marcelo said sadly who is sitting beside my father August Marcelo. 
 
I sigh before I walk towards an empty seat just in front of the 3 visitors. I slowly sit and notice that their eyes are all towards me. My heart starts to pound heavily. What trouble did I cause this time? Who are these 3 weird visitors who look at me as if they are looking into a food? But despite of my thundering heartbeat and nervousness I have to act cool about this.
 
"U-uhmmnn what is going on?" I manage to say as I look around the table to look at my family's faces.
 
Why do I feel so uneasy about all of these? I look at my family and I can feel this dark sad aura surrounding them making me scared and nervous. But when I look at the two new faces in front of me, I feel this uncertain warmth in my heart... so weird. To my observation they must be couple seeing how the handsome 30's looking man hugs the woman who is also so pretty and looking like in her 30's to. The way they are looking at me makes me feel so warm, happy, nervous, and scared also not to mention I feel like vomiting all at ones. Who are they and why is the atmosphere feel so tight? Why does my parents look so sad and distressed?
 

Every one of us must have watch or read any fairy tale books in our entire life. Fairy tale story like: Snow white, sleeping beauty and our famous Cinderella. It must be great to live in a rich life where everything you want is given or provided, a life with servants at our disposal, and a life with a handsome prince charming ready to save us. But.....THIS certain story is not like any fairy tale story we had read and watched. This story is about being brave, being you and being who you want to be.

Anna Marie Marcelo is like any normal college girl who dreamed of a fairy tale like life but ends up accepting the reality that she is a farmers’ daughter and that’s just it. This made her study hard and work harder for the dream she wants to achieve in the near future. Together with her friend Margie Rose Domingo, they both face the reality of their boring, normal yet contented life.

A sudden change happens to Anna that causes a stir into her normal life. She will find herself wearing gowns, expensive dresses, and high class jewelries and dine in the finest food chains. Meets handsome but arrogant princes charming. Almost like a fairy tale story….a Cinderella story, but THIS is not a fairy tale story THIS is HER story.

A fiber of connection from miles away...



Our places on this earth are divided by oceans setting us apart from one continent to another. Several countries speaking several languages to understand each other. People with several cultures and beliefs. Different personalities and opinions.

In this chaotic world, we live in called real life we search for a place to escape from that reality. To be accepted as who or what we are. We have found that in the music we sing. In the books, we read. In the movies we watch. In the places, we travel and visit. Everywhere in which we get inspiration to face reality head-on.

We write stories or poems to inspire others, reading the words we weave from our own world. For some of us, it is simply an escape from reality into a world in which we can use our imaginations to dream make-believe or to live our secret fantasies or just plain be creative.

Getting on the web gives us more ways to share and get connected to other people with the same kind of thinking from across the ocean. Some of the people we meet along the way give us reasons to smile again. It's where we become friends, get to know them well, and get so close that we even trust them enough to share our own greatest fears.

I was a living a kind of living death when I found solace here on Stories Space. A place to write, camouflaging my hatred and sadness from myself when I was reading all the poetry and fictional fantasies created by the writers. I found another escape from reality and indulged in reading.

My feelings from my own troubles in life had made me feel so empty that only through laughter and reading could I be free and somewhat whole again.

I made my own heaven in purgatory.

A friend told me to write down all of my pains and troubles in poems or stories. Another friend of mine told me to be fierce in my poetry writing. I found friends who helped me give my own life a reason to continue living again through writing.

Writing makes me calm every time my mind gets into a panic mode. The pains and the fears of the unknown are my muses for writing.

When I met someone who understood me and made me feel needed and loved my poetry changed its tune. It made me think of happy thoughts. I got inspired by the things I saw and the happy memories of my childhood that I could write about.

Painful memories and realities were always there and so I wrote about them from time to time.

When that someone left me I continued writing. The same inner muse I had gained I used to keep on writing.

Then, out of nowhere, I got to know you. I became happy again. This time I got even more inspired and more creative, experimenting with my writings.

I set aside my shyness and reservations to write creatively. I still can't overcome some of my shyness and reservation but I am blooming, inspired by you.

You became my muse.

The man in the moon. The stars in my darkest hours. When at night I can't sleep thinking of you calms me to sleep.

The sunshine after the heavy storm. Where all the dead trees come to life again. That keeps me warm when everything gets chilly.

My own little heaven in my real life purgatory.

Writing...

Rune's Prose & Poetries

LUCID DREAMS

my wandering crazy mind is just doodling in the sands...

it's just me ...this is a collection of my amateurish writings of poetry, short stories, and prose...

These are all short stories compilation a different story per chapter.

WARNING: Adult contents, please be advised that you're reading EROTICA


ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
RuneMcGrey
Copyright©2014-present

All writings remains MEG Cabingan a.k.a. RuNe also known as runemcgrey's property.
Don't use it for any other purposes without her permission.

Eleanor was carried to the seventh floor of the magic tower. Her wounds were grave. She was damaged down to the bone marrow. The attack from the heavenly angel was too powerful and there was little that she could have done to defend it. She survived only because she had Seven Nights with her.
Saleen used branches from four divine trees to craft the longbow named Seven Nights for her, enabling her to use her abilities to the fullest. Material-wise, the longbow could already be considered a godly item. It was only due to the immaturity of Saleen's craftsmanship that the power of the weapon failed to reach that of a godly item's. Eleanor had only managed to make use of a very small portion of all the four special features present in godly trees.
Seven Nights was also Eleanor's close combat weapon. The Power of Life and Power of Taboo infused within the longbow had been protecting a vital spot of hers; it was a power that blocked the Lord of Glory's divine attack.
The Sword of Light was too powerful and the Seven Nights was a long range weapon in nature, thus it was only able to keep Eleanor alive.
Eleanor was put onto the alchemy table and Saleen dismissed everyone else in the room, except Lex and Stephanie.
"Master, she suffered the worst injury here. Let's see to her first."
In reality, Su did not fare much better, but Su was way more powerful than Eleanor and he had the protection of armor, which enhanced the powers of the Golden Grand Swordmaster temporarily. He was in the residual wave from the Sword of Burst, but his head and heart remained completely intact. The injuries he suffered were little more than burns on his internal organs, dealt by the beam that went through him from his back.
The defense of Golden Sword Aura was greater than grade-9 magic. He was only swept by a residual wave, meaning that his life would not have been in danger.
The injuries suffered by Eleanor, however, were bone-shattering ones. They spread out all over her entire body. No bones in her remained in one piece. Having to stay conscious in such a state was torturous. Even if she had mages cast spells to enable her to be immune from pain, the resulting fear of being in such a state was not one that could be eased.
Eleanor lost all control of her fear, as she knew how bad her injuries were. What she suffered was not something that could be completely mended and recovered from.
Saleen had left her to protect the northside magic tower, yet he himself was willing to hand over the protection of said tower to a grade-6 mage, due to worrying about the safety of the palace itself. Was this something worth worrying over?
Now that she was rendered a useless cripple, would her master, a man who had just married, just cast her aside?
She had imparted most of the elf's skills to Saleen and Nailisi. How much worth did she have left?
"Eleanor, I will heal you," Saleen stood by her side and looked at her. He was able to read all the thoughts in her mind through her eyes.
Stephanie turned, "Lex, go to the eighth floor. Watch over the palace for me. Don't let anyone in right now."
Lex nodded and headed straight for the eighth floor of the tower, leaving Saleen with the injured elf. Saleen said, "Master, what would you need to heal her?"
"You seem to care a lot for her...", Stephanie stated as she cast a grade-7 restorative spell. It did not heal her completely, but the spell had at least mended all her broken and shattered bones.
"Eleanor...she had no one."
"I had no one myself. That isn't good enough a reason," Stephanie replied impatiently. Eleanor was a pretty being, Stephanie was worried that Saleen fell in love with the elf.
Saleen turned to look at Eleanor. She shied away, not wanting to look into his eyes. She did not know what awaited. The battle with the angel could be said to be an act of impulse. Coming to think of it now in fear, she had began to regret her decision somewhat.
Such was the temperament of elves who, unlike humans, were meticulous with their calculations of things. The betrayal of the entire elf plane back long ago was just as ridiculous.
"She is my follower. As such, I must have her returned in full health, whatever the price," Saleen sounded rather awkward when those words were spoken. He did not think much of Eleanor himself, but looking at her eyes, he knew well that he needed to protect her.
"Whatever the price, you said?"
"Indeed. She did a lot for me. Eleanor... she is an elf," Saleen blurted out the truth without second thoughts. He could not have been the only one who knew things like that. it was impossible to keep such secrets under wraps forever.
"An elf?", Stephanie's eyes sparkled with interest, so much so that she had forgotten to follow up the price question.
She bent, looked at her injuries up close and nodded, "So it is so indeed. Some work has been done with her musculature. I'm very interested to find out what she looked like before."
Healing was a process that had little difference with dissection most of the time. It enabled one to clearly analyze a living thing's physical structure. Stephanie, as a grade-8 sorcerer, could not have been able to resist looking into Eleanor. She was the only elf to exist on the entire mainland.
Eleanor's fear deepened. Her cover was blown and the one who had just found out was a powerful mage. Would she be dissected? Saleen was no match for Stephanie in this case. Even if he had the badge with him, there was still a need for him to be able to brandish it.
"Elves, the race who had once betrayed humans. I wonder, if their hearts would actually be black?", Stephanie said as she traced her finger over Eleanor's chest, looking for a wound, as if she wanted to tear out the elf's heart and see it for herself.
"Stephanie!", Saleen sounded severe.
Stephanie laughed and said, "Relax. I will treat this elf for you, but I have no control over the expenses required to do so. I will not become Lex's personal mage before Lex becomes a mage as powerful as I am. If you want to see her treated, there will still be a price."
Saleen nodded furiously. The other two grade-8 mages were clearly not of Stephanie's caliber in a lot of ways. Both of them were dirt poor, and their skills lacked versatility and diversity, even their combat prowess paled in comparison to Stephanie's.
Nicholas was not as powerful either. His fallen divine arts were useless to treat injuries caused by angels. The reason why Nicholas had yet to return from the southern side was probably due to that fact.
Eleanor laid there and listened to every single word exchanged between Saleen and Stephanie; her heart ached. Saleen was not a man devoid of compassion, and he looked determined to save her. Would she ever be able to truly recover?
"Saleen...," Eleanor moaned weakly.
"Don't talk," Saleen said to comfort her gently.
"Will I be able to...shoot arrows after this?", Eleanor had no control over her body, except her head. All she was able to feel was a sense of numbness. If the spell was to wear off, she would have been assailed by indescribable pain.
"Of course. I still need your skills, to lock onto my enemies," Saleen answered solemnly as he looked into her with his deep blue eyes.
The more such words were uttered, the sadder she felt though.
"What worth is there to consider? I'm his follower and it is only right and proper that I put my life on the line for him. I should be feeling grateful that Saleen even considered saving me. To cast away a care like that of a loved one's would just be awful! Saleen is a human after all!" She thought to herself. 
"Alright, say no more. Help me get the ingredients ready. There is one thing I need to craft before I can save her. Bar all entry onto the seventh floor of the tower and let no one in, including Lex and those other mages. Kill anyone disobeying the order," Stephanie said as she took out her magic pen and paper, listing all the items she required.
Stephanie's writing was pretty. Most mages were capable of very good writing, but they were of course more skilled in drawing magic scrolls. No mistakes were permitted in the making of scrolls.
Stephanie handed the piece of magic paper to Saleen as soon as she was done writing and said, "This is the first batch, of ingredients needed to completely heal her bones and muscles. The expenses after this will be hefty, more than enough for you to hire a grade-8 sorcerer, I would say."
Saleen took the list and said to Eleanor, "Just relax,", before heading for the seventh floor.
Su and Cuisi were being treated on the sixth floor. Su was gravely injured, but he did not require any special medicines. He was able to treat himself using the Silver Sword Aura. He was sleeping in a container and submerged in magical medicines. Su was not able to recover immediately due to having lost too much blood. He barely had enough strength to even stand.
Cuisi was of a height taller than eight yards, while the height of each floor of the magic tower was six yards. The demon had to be laid on the ground while several mages attended to his wounds.
These mages did so voluntarily, as the chance to closely observe a demon was hard to come by for a mage, and therefore very tempting.
Eleanor began to feel fear rushing over her as Saleen left for seventh floor. Stephanie looked at her green eyes and smiled, "Are you are afraid of me?"
Stephanie looked young, somewhere in her twenties, but Eleanor was able to sense that this was only due to the fact that Stephanie became a sorcerer in her twenties. Her looks were then preserved. The woman standing in front of her, was no naive girl fresh out of the countryside.
"Eleanor, why do you fight so hard for Saleen, I wonder?", Stephanie's eyes were like Saleen's, blue, but they instilled a deep fear into her instead. That blue, it was a cold one, like the Dark Blue Chant. It was pretty, yet very deadly.
Eleanor spoke with a tinge of bitterness, "Impulse, I guess. Or simply because I had nowhere to run to."
Eleanor's answer startled Stephanie somewhat. Nowhere to run to...what a pitiful answer indeed. As an elf stranded on the Myers Mainland, what choice did she have but to follow Saleen?
"Eleanor, there is no guarantee that I will be able to heal you completely. Grade-9 sorcerers would say the same. The techniques we would use to heal you would be the same, but I will be able to oversee to your treatment with better equipment. Even so...if-- just supposedly-- if your wounds were to never heal, would you have any regrets?"
Eleanor shook her head. She was not able to feel anything below her neck.
"No regrets? And I thought elves were all weak beings, but I don't know if being reckless is better," Stephanie's words felt like a knife, thrust right into her chest and twisted to make matters worse.
"What ...is there to regret?", Eleanor mustered her strength to reply between breaths. She recalled the words Saleen said to her before he left, 'just relax'.
She was now in such a pitiful state and therefore there was no need to lie to her. If Saleen told her to relax, then she would. The worst thing that could have happened at that point was being made into a specimen and kept as part of a collection in Stephanie's tower.
She looked just like a specimen right now, what could have been worse than this?


It is said that the true meaning of a mage is to fully understand the truth of the world. A mage named Saleen Metatrin goes on many missions as a normal mage to try and change his fate. This in turn led to many problems and adventures.  

She woke up with a tiny ray of sunlight illuminating her left cheek, the light coming from a gap created by her curtain that hung low at the foot of her bed.

With one swift pivot, she rose and sat straight for a while, scratching her head and rubbing off the mounds of saliva that dried off at the side of her mouth-- she drools a lot after all.

She checked her phone that lay idle at her bedside table; grasping it with a sleepy grip, she opened it and checked for messages. Her eyes widened upon seeing that there were 20 texts from various people.

One came from her college best friend, Phlan, with a text asking her if she'd attend her 8 a.m. class. She smiled in rebellion. Of course she won't. Given that she just woke up, no Breone will be attending her creative writing subject this morning.

The other 18 texts were from her annoying brother, Kevin. She opened one of the texts and found that it was a drunk text. "Ure ugleyhb as hecrckk, Breone." The text read. "Well, at least he got my name's spelling correct." She whispered, mustering a smile only her brother can paint on her face.

She did bother to read the other drunk texts her brother sent her. She scrolled through her phone and got to the bottom of her inbox and saw a text from someone she never thought would text her at this time, Jared. She opened the message and it read: "Are you free this afternoon? I have a coupon from that favorite korean barbeque place you love. I received it for free since I celebrated my birthday there last night. I plan on giving it to you. Do you want it?"

Her heart rejoiced but then ached. How could Jared not invite her to his celebration last night? Was she only a friend that's as good as a coupon's worth? 

She exited the message, not bothering to reply and threw her phone to her bed. Frustrated early in the morning, she crashed her body back to bed. She wouldn't let Jared's text affect her mood. He's only a guy. "Well a guy you truly like." Her mind whispered. 

Frustrated by this notion, she turned to her left to see if her roommates were still on their beds. Breone lived in a dormitory that's inside her university. Convenient, one might say but lonely and utterly depressing for Breone.

Seeing that she was the only one in her room, she went back to sleep, totally bearing in mind to wake up at 1 in the afternoon, just enough to miss her second class, and then she'd be free for the rest of the day. 

Breone has this silly nick to her attitude. She's often absent in her classes but she still passes with flying colors. Her professors don't seem to mind this habit of hers since she still delivers well even if she's absent two or three times a week in a subject.

Before she closed her eyes, she thought of Jared. How she secretly liked him for years. How her heart flutters whenever he asks her to go on a food trip with him.

It is during those moments she is reminded that this is what it feels like to have someone accompany you even in the silliest of trips, this is how it feels to just have someone by your side. But Jared isn't hers. And maybe, it will stay that way.

With doubt clouding her thoughts, she decided to sleep it off. 

With Jared as the last thought in mind, she drifted back to sleep with a heavy heart.

She gives 
her heart
Like flyers
out on the street--
existing only 
to be desolated 
by those 
who cannot
see.

She loves--
the kind
where she is blind
and unfailingly meek;
where the emptiness
of her palm,
and the pain
she has been,
cannot deplete
the love she
offers for
free.

She has shattered
in ways
unknown
because she 
gives--
Her love,
Her heart
that has never 
received.

creative writing for grade 8

Creative Writing: A Creative and Abnormal Teacher

Writing for fun

Self care <3

Truthful stories of my "love life"

Follow You With Warmth

A Rambling Girl

Almost A Fairy Tale

LUCID DREAMS

Badge in Azure

An Unrequited Tale

People search creative writing for grade 8 also like: