Alexia Smith's Adventures in Writing
This blog is here to doucment my adventures as a novice writer high schooler, and maybe my first dabbles with fan fiction.
Thursday, March 8, 2012
Thursday, March 17, 2011
Monday, February 21, 2011
Let Love Grow
Realistic fiction, Romance
“My head told my heart let love grow. But my heart told my head this time no.”
Alisha has always been struggling with depression for years. She’s been suicidal at points and still has trouble crawling out of that hole for good.
Just on some new medication, Alisha is determined to keep her demons at bay. Aware of the pain she puts people through, she makes herself a deal: not to get to close to anyone until she’s free of depression for a year.
Yet that’s when Conner comes in, a sweet jock that has a few scars of his own. Alisha can’t help but start to fall for him, the one thing she’s trying so hard not to do. Conner doesn’t care, he wants to help her keep the darkness at bay and Alisha has to decide whether to let her love grow or kill it in its tracks.
If the darkness comes for her again, she’s not going to let Conner come with her.
Thursday, February 17, 2011
Monday, February 14, 2011
My Montage 2/14/11 at OneTrueMedia.com
Awesomeness made it myself
*note: none of these pics are mine*
*note: none of these pics are mine*
Sunday, February 13, 2011
:)
My god, it was cold out.
Not that I could tell, I still couldn’t feel the freezing temperatures bite at my skin but I could see its effects. The snow blowing down the street, the wind beating at my ratty black jacket, the windows of every building on the lot closed tight. Not a single person was out in this weather this late at night.
Just me.
I rubbed my hands together, feeling the torn fabric of my gloves scratch my skin. I opened the revealing the item that was resting in my palm; a simple key. A key I could use to open the subway entrance to the right of the wall I was perched. The key that would lead me to Alec’s room in the caravans. To his arms, to an escape.
It wouldn’t be that hard. I had done it dozens of times. I would go to the door, unlock the key and travel down below the city, until I reached the large clearing in the subway ruins. The ruins where the Caravans’ lived, where a bunch of outcasts would be lying on the floor covered in warm blankets to keep out the chill. I would sneak past them and enter his room. He would welcome me in, of course, into his bed and from there would be nothing but escape. No problems, no worries just warm arms.
Even if I couldn’t feel the heat they still counted.
Yet no matter how many times I had done this, something held me back on that stone wall. The feeling of escape was being overpowered by something, something I couldn’t put my finger on.
It might have been reason. I mean this escape wasn’t much less dangerous than that bottle of whisky under my bed. If one thing went wrong I would be like those girls I saw on the street, a young child in their arms, both starving. All of us were starving but a baby can’t steal food, and their mother can’t leave to do the same.
That wasn’t it either though, and I knew it. I didn’t care about risks; I lived my life on a metaphorical powder keg. Any day I could drop dead, I had no future so why worry about it. I would be dead in the ground by age twenty if I got lucky. Then what was holding me back?
I jumped off the wall onto the street only to slide onto my back. I groaned looking for the thing that had caused my downfall. Stuck to the bottom of my boot was a bright red sheet of paper. I peeled it off the sole bringing it up to my face.
It was in the shape of a heart, crudely cut out of paper with a dull pair of scissors I suppose. I had forgotten; tomorrow was Valentine’s Day. I really didn’t keep track of holidays; I was much for focused on keeping alive yet I couldn’t help think about it.
Love wasn’t a good thing as the day seemed to proclaim. Sure it made you feel amazing, like you were floating on air, and kept you in a great mood. However, it always ended in pain. No matter what just another scar to add to my broken soul. I wasn’t even sure if anyone could fix it.
That’s when it hit me. As the snow soaked through my jeans and my gloves, I fingered the key. I loved Alec, sure. If he died I would be broken, a wreck of the dysfunctional toy I already was. I didn’t love him in that way though; he was like my brother, my best friend.
He wasn’t my lover and I wasn’t his.
I sighed sinking down into the snow not caring about the water soaking though my jeans. Since when had I cared about love? What had made me care about this insignificant fact now? I got up walking slowly down the street, looking down the alley. That’s all it took to take me back.
“Ice.” I turned around in my chair. The new kid was lying down in his cot, eating his apple like it was life itself. He looked starved.
“Yeah?” He pointed to the key I was fingering in my hands. With all that was going on I wanted to get out of here tonight and pay Alec a visit. I must have taken it out of my pocket.
“Where does that go to?” He asked. His mouth seemed dry and I was sure he still had a fever.
“A friend.” The way his eyebrow rose made me grimace. I didn’t like that “get some” expression. Soon his look of scandal disappeared and he smiled at me.
“You’re lucky then. You got someone who cares about you. All I got is someone who cares about the price on my head.” He was delirious again and soon once again passed out.
“Someone who cares about you,” I whispered. Alec cared but he didn’t care that much. Not in the I’ll throw myself under a bus for you kind of way. That love, that kind I made me feel a punch in my gut, a large hole that I was never going to fill.
At least as long as I was doing this.
I slipped the key back into my pocket wrapping the red sheet of paper around it. Then without a second glance I turned away from the subway doors beckoning me and into the frigid wind.
I had never felt so warm.
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