My work as the last thread was deleted.

Blaine

Mon chere...
    • 828
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    To begin with, I have a story I'd like to show you all. It's incomplete but I need feedback. So here goes...

    A/N: Before I begin this story, I would like to dedicate it to someone very dear to me. I shan't enclose a name, but let us say, that this boy, he has inspired me in many ways. He was always the cheerful one, and ready to love his friends. He has such a passion for humor and his mock stupor has always set us beside ourselves with laughter. Now, however, that he has moved, I'm sure he'll send his new acquaintances into fits of childish giggles themselves. To him, your Memphian friends will always miss you, dear one.


    The one and only chapter; unless I decide otherwise- The Last Love Song on This Little Planet

    Elise wandered through the unusually bright corridors of her novel high school. She stopped abruptly in front of an open-air doorway and let the cool November breeze envelop her body. Clothed in the traditionally bleak required uniform, which consisted of a grey pleated skirt, a white button-up, a blue blazer that had been encrusted with a golden, pentagon-shaped crest, and a simple green ribbon tie, she appeared to be rather pleasing to the eye. Her long legs had been partially concealed with black knee stockings, her feet set in black Mary Jane?s, and the blue jacket that hugged to her curvy torso. The white blonde haired female sighed contently as the wind washed over her figure. Her rose pink lips curved into a smile, she was finally alone. Elise allowed her emerald eyes to lower themselves, a plethora of thick black eyelashes framing the bright pupils. Her pale complexion contrasted beautifully against her dark eyes and dusty lips, giving her an angelic glow.

    A taller young man stood behind her, entranced by her peppermint scent. His light brown hair ruffled as it fought a losing battle against the zephyr. ?It feels wonderful doesn?t it, the way the wind caresses one?s body, forming an air-based body suit around you,? He whispered thoughtfully. Elise spun around her roman nose brushing against the boy?s chest. Looking up, she was confronted with a kind face and a quizzical look. He chuckled and smiled at her. ??Lo, I?m Paul. And you, milady are?? ?E-Elise,? She managed to stutter, ?I?m-I?m Elise Calloway.? His chocolate brown eyes mesmerized her, and she was unable to tear her emerald ones from them. ?Well, Mademoiselle Calloway, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.? Paul lifted her petite hand and chastely kissed the knuckle, their eye contact never wavering. He regained his composure and gave her a smile.

    ?It has been lovely chatting with you, chere, but I fret that I will be late for my... Er... Appointments.? He said in a rough English accent, which had been corrupted by the adoption of American speech. Grinning lop-sidedly, he tipped his head and bid her good-day. Elise let her lips curve and radiate a small smile. After Paul was out of sight, she wrapped her arms ?round her waist, and walked slowly toward her locker. She had recently moved from Seattle, Washington, to the quaint town, in Maine, of Syirus. It was on the coast and gave way for a good many fisheries. The move was the result of the scholarship Elise had received from the state for some odd reason. She had no official guardians, and so she was forced to make the move on her own.

    Thoughts were pardoned by a clap of thunder ringing in the atmosphere around her. Time to get on towards home... Her slow gait was hurried as more thunder strikes lit through the air eliciting loud noises.

    Er... I hope it's alright...I'll have more later.
     
    Thank you, Shelz. As promised, here is another, newer part that I had written a week ago.

    The thunder resounded in her eyes as she was thrown into the world she once knew.

    Muscular legs rippled as Adidas clad feet pounded against the broken gravel. The black biker?s shorts that clung to her thighs revealed even the slightest move of her upper joints. The heather gray Alabama tee was loose against her small shoulders, but the fabric moved just as well with every stride she took. A high ponytail tugged at her striking blonde locks, the turquoise hair tie just anxious to free itself of the mass of thick hair. Stopping her run to catch her breath, she bent, resting her hands on her mud splattered knees. A younger boy riding a striking yellow bicycle circled her, taunting her lack of endurance. She shook her head at him, more strands falling in her face, over her marsh green eyes. Haze ensued as the misty air made the almost teen even more venerable to perspiration. ?Just thirty more minutes? Then I can stop?? Her voice was hoarse and thick with the obvious lack of oxygen. The friction of her cross trainers like lightning against the street pavement began again, this time faster. With every quick movement she felt as if she were going to fall, stumbling into the small pockets of water collected at the chipped and caving driveways? ends, or collapse into the sandy waves of mud and ground gravel churned together by the flailing rains. The emotional pain constrained her mind, granting her thoughts an endless slideshow of countless images that racked her brain like nothing else.

    The twelve-year-old had finally dragged herself up the cracked and steeping driveway, climbing up the concrete steps, each with their own shabby-chic portrait of chipped, green enamel paint. Collapsing at the welcome of slanting porch, her chest heaved with harsh intakes and outtakes of oxygen and carbon dioxide, fulfilling the trees? above her need for the toxin. The girl?s white blonde tresses tumbled free from their former prison of fabric encased elastic creating a wave of lush contrast against the musty green. For several moments all that occurred was steady breathing and the bending and unbending of scarred knees. As her heart returned to its regular beating pattern, the young teen on the brink of adolescence sat up on the porch, swarmed by moths that were enthralled with the streetlamps, illuminated posts, and porch lights. ?I need a hair trim,? was all she could say as she ran several digits through the thick strands of hair that surpassed her collarbone...

    Elise scrambled to open the metal door, fighting to relieve herself of the painful memory. It was all the young teen could do to keep her weakened body from collapsing in a sobbing heap before the wall of metal-plated lockers.
     
    Very nicely done Blaine. You have a great knack for description in your stories, be it poetry or stories, I can often see myself right there, watching everything. Illuminates all senses, sight, smell, taste, hearing or touch, all of those are what you make sure to fulfill in your works of literature. The only true advice I can give you is keep writing, and make your stories longer, but you don't really have to make them longer, they are awesome as it is.

    ~DragonTrainer    :dragonite
     
    Thank you both, LT and DT. I truly appreciate the praise. Here's a piece that doesn't follow the story but it's just something I'd written up...

    [To be edited soon]
     
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