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Amy posting in A writer's place to relax and share thoughts
User: rumantic
Date: 2008-01-11 13:46
Subject: Trust
Security: Public
Using a prompt from all_unwritten

*NOTE* I haven't written anything in ages, and I can't seem to concentrate properly on a lot of it anyway. Please bear with me as this does disintegrate towards the end where I just lost track of the characters. Sorry guys! I also need to do some research regarding the story, but it does go somewhere, anyway.
*

Micky lay for what seemed like hours silently in his bed, watching Craig's chest rise and fall under the covers. He was exhausted, but he didn't dare fall asleep, just in case he was sick again. Catching himself every few minutes about to drift off, he started replaying the night's events in his head.

Craig looked so vulnerable in this state. Traces of vomit remained around his mouth, which Micky restrained himself from wiping off. Everyone in the room thought that he was asleep, and Craig had just had a bit too much to drink. Micky knew the whole of it.

It had been Craig's idea to go to a gay club. It had surprised Micky, but Craig reasoned that at least they wouldn't bump into anyone else from school there, and teased Micky about having a holiday fling. They went and the drink started flowing. Suddenly Micky had noticed Craig's absence, his drink knocked onto the floor. By the time he found him, he was being held up by a bouncer.

"He's with me," Micky had implored, and tried to take Craig by the hand. The bouncers had been suspicious. They knew his drink had been spiked. Luckily Craig had woken up a bit by now and managed to convey that he went to school with him. Micky pulled a coat round his shoulders and sat Craig down on a bench on the way back.
"What happened? Do you think your drink was spiked?" Micky's expression was of concern. Craig was not acting himself at all. Craig shook his head wordlessly. He paused to spit on the ground.
"I was stupid. We shouldn't have gone in there." He paused again, taking a heavy breath. "Someone sold me a pill. I took it. I was stupid. Can we go home now?" He looked defeated. Micky got angry.
"You fucking idiot!"
"Can we just go back to the hotel, please?"
"I can't believe you would be so stupid!" Micky looked at Craig with disgust.
"No, neither can I." If only you knew, he thought sluggishly, before his stomach heaved and before he knew it he was being sick, he had fallen off the bench and crouched, trembling, on all fours. The acid was burning his throat, forcing its way out of his nose...

To be continued.
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Amy posting in A writer's place to relax and share thoughts
User: rumantic
Date: 2007-12-07 17:18
Subject: "Huntsbridge"
Security: Public
One of the serials I was eventually planning on finishing (I haven't even written anything for it in ages) was what I called the Huntsbridge Series. It's centred around a character called Craig who goes to a boarding school (Huntsbridge, which is why it's an in-progress name.)

Craig's a quiet sort of character. He doesn't have many friends and is a man of few words, so to speak. His mother died when he was 14 of an illness which only became serious through her pregnancy with him - so she was progressively ill for all of his life. His father almost seems to bear a grudge against Craig for bringing this upon his wife, whom he loved dearly, though deep down he knows it's not Craig's fault; he's merely looking for somebody to blame.

Craig moved to Huntsbridge when his Mum died, in order to avoid the gossip and hushed whispers which surrounded him at his previous school. Consequently, nobody at this school knows about his Mum and he managed to blend into the background.

The story joins our characters just as they move from the main school to sixth-form status, at the age of 16, in September. They're at school for two weeks before anybody who signed up (Including Craig) go on a history trip to Versailles, France. It's during this trip that Micky comes into the forefront. Micky is an exuberant, playful guy, and he's very popular among the students. There seems to be almost something special about him - everyone seems to want to be his friend. During the trip to France a lot of the students get drunk and Micky's the only one who doesn't touch a drop. He keeps up with the mood and the party, but can't help noticing Craig sitting on his own. He goes over to speak to him and tries to find out what's up, and basically they become friends because Micky's really in tune with people's feelings, and Craig needs someone to reach out to him.

Click here if you don't mind being spoiled since it won't be finished for yearsCollapse )

Got a bit cut short so sorry if this reads a bit rushed. I will be editing to make it readable at some point.
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Amy posting in A writer's place to relax and share thoughts
User: rumantic
Date: 2007-10-12 14:48
Subject: Summer Evening Passion
Security: Public
Very short - an exercise I did in Creative Writing class, where we were given 10 words and 10 minutes to write. Not related to anything, I may expand in future.

***


"Now, open your eyes."
The love and devotion, and bursting pride, was evident in his tone as he led her through a doorway. She opened them dutifully, with a sense of suspense, and was greeted with a strangely beautiful sight. They were in a derelict farmhouse, ivy growing erratically over its half-walls and the remains of a collapsed roof. Small lanterns had been placed around - just candles in honey-jars - and the insects of the dusk hovered around them like an audience. The tapping and buzzing sounds they made against the glass jars, far from being irritating, was almost relaxing. A cranefly staggered dancingly around. She could tell in an instant that he knew her well enough then, for who else could have known how dazzlingly magical this would all seem? It certainly wasn't any sort of glamour or luxury. It was true passion, she was sure, and she could only hope that it wouldn't dissolve rapidly and leave her lonely like many past men had left her.

***


I'm not sure what I think about this. Comma overkill, because I always do. I like "sense of suspense" and the cranefly.
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Amy posting in A writer's place to relax and share thoughts
User: rumantic
Date: 2007-10-12 14:42
Subject: (no subject)
Security: Public
Metallically scented warm skin, and a tattoo of black encircles my wrist. It sounds like a trap or prison, but I'm talking about something else. Something that dances with the branches of the tree as it waves at us with shadows on your wall.
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Amy posting in A writer's place to relax and share thoughts
User: rumantic
Date: 2007-10-11 12:41
Subject: Leave
Security: Public
I was sat in the car with my boyfriend last night looking over at my old school and it reminded me forcibly of a story I have yet to begin.

It all started with an idea I had. Every October where I live a travelling fair comes around. On the first weekend, it's called the Mop, but the second weekend it's called the Runaway Mop. One year I was feeling so jaded, so bored and in depression with life that I had an urge to run away with the so-called Runaway Mop. I decided that I'd do my A-Levels, and then take a year out to travel around the country with the fair before I went to University. None of this happened, but it did give me a very interesting idea for a story.

Just as Ella and Wes leave behind everything they've ever known, this is where we join them.Collapse )
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January 2008