Prompt #5: Point

Today’s Oneword.com’s prompt: Point.

The top most point of the star was on a different side of the room as the rest. It had been smashed off, by that imprudent boy during a tantrum. It’s just left there now, no one bothering to fix it.

-Heidi

Prompt #2, 3, and 4: one word. so little time.

Three days ago I discovered this nifty website, Oneword.com where they give you a word prompt each day and one minute to write as much as you could about it. I just wanted to post with the three I did so far:

Word: Delicate

Her delicate face was blurry in his fading vision. His time was now, he knew. Of all the times he had cheated death, this was not one of those times. He reached out his hand to touch her face one last time, and took his final breath.

This first one gave me an idea for a possible future novel or story. On to the next…

Word: Spark

The spark that flew through the streets and into his house was blinding. He climbed carefully down the stairs unsure of what he’ll find. Taking a deep breath he walk into the living room.

This one inspired something too. The final one is terrible, but bare with me as I couldn’t think of anything else…

Word: Chorus

“The chorus was the best part of the song!” He threw his hand into the air.

“No way!” she disagreed.

“Yes,”he said.

“No.”

“Aurgh!” he gave up.

Horrible.

Hope you enjoyed nonetheless!

—-

I will be attending a Breaking Dawn (the fourth book in the Twilight series) release party this Friday, I can’t wait. Then the following day, Saturday, my cousins will be coming to visit for two weeks. I have to rearrange my sleeping schedule again, however, to normal people time because my grandparents won’t approve and I have to share my bedroom, so not more unholy hours.

I also have to rest up so I could read Breaking Dawn nonstop and hopefully finish it within two days like I did Deathly Hallows. Doing so eliminates the possibility of being spoiled and making it safe once more for me to go on the internet since I already know everything that happens.

-Heidi

Chapter by Chapter Update

Like I said in the last post, I will be doing Chapter by Chapter. After reading chapter one, my “analysis” for it is now posted. It is the page titled “Chapter 1: New Pretty Town”.

On a completely different note, I am really tired right now. I, for once, did not go to sleep at 4 or 5 in the morning. Instead, I went to sleep at 1 and woke at 9 a.m.

Hope you enjoy the Chapter by Chapter.

-Heidi

Chapter by Chapter Announcement

I’ve decided to do a sort of novel study thing on the book “Uglies” by Scott Westerfield. It’s been on my shelf for a while now. If I don’t read it soon, I’m afraid it’ll rot away or something. I’ll be posting my Chapter-by-Chapter analysis on here. That’s all.

-Heidi

5 a.m. graphics

It is officially five in the morning here and while “normal” people are sleeping, I’ve been sitting here at the computer experimenting with Microsoft Paint. And I’ll share them here:

Edward <3 Bella

Experimenting with shading

Again, experimenting with shading

Made for this blog.

A stab at making a avatar in Paint.

Second avatar.

Random doodle that I did yesterday on Paint.

Well I hope you enjoyed that.

-Heidi

Fangs – a poem

Hello. I just wanted to introduce a little poem of mine to this blog. It’s posted on Writer’s Cafe. Here it is:

Fangs
By Heidi

Snow flurried down

Lone figure stood in the shadow,

Face marred by a frown

Uncaring of the frosted snow

Glimmer of white flashed in soft light

Fangs

Thirsty was she, the Vampire

The need, the want

It set her throat afire

Through the flurry of white,

She smelt rich, flowing crimson

Her mind gave in

She would Hunt without reason.

Enjoy!

Prompt #1

Title: Simpler Times
Rating: K+
Genre: Realistic fiction
Author notes: First entry ever… hurray. This is a random prompt given to me by my friend, when I asked her for a word for me to write about.

She’s been missing for five years now. Mom and Dad have long since stopped expecting her to show up alive – they stopped when the police did. But I could never give up on that little inkling of hope that my sister, Cherry, could be alive. Every time someone opened the door, I looked up eagerly hoping that she’d walk through them, looking as if none of this ever happened. Dad grew hard, he withdrew himself from us, yelling or dropping whatever he was holding when Cherry was mentioned.

She was his little girl after all.

It’s unhealthy to dwell, at least when I should be doing something productive. So I went to the attic and looked for the box. It’s called “The Cherry Box”, inside was everything that reminded me most of her. Dad had tried to throw it all away once, while a hysterical Mom tried to restrain him. But I saved it, I went out to the garbage can and fished it all out. I opened the box, everything in it looked exactly as it should: a stuffed rabbit, a photo of Cherry, a miniature notebook with a crayon attached, her favourite book (Beauty and the Beast), and a ribbon. I picked up the stuffed rabbit. I had given it to her for her fifth birthday, a year before she was abducted.

“Happy birthday!” I said happily, handing her a bag made of wrapping paper. She wrinkle her nose slightly at the colour of the bag; she really hated the colour pink. She bounced back quickly though, she was excited again within a few seconds.

“Ooh what is it?” Cherry asked me, hopping up and down in her seat.

“You’ll have to open to see,” I told her.

There was no need to tell her twice, she pounced on the bag immediately and opened it up so eagerly, the wrapping paper was torn and sent flying every which direction. She finally found the thing hidden inside.

She looked at the stuffed rabbit held in both of her hands.

“It’s pink again,” she told me grudgingly.

“I know, I got it just for you,” I said, hiding my laughter.

I knew she hated the darn colour, but it was pretty funny to see her face wrinkled in disgust like that.

She assessed the rabbit for a few more seconds then gave it a huge squeeze.

“I love it anyways!” she beamed at me.

“See, I knew you would,” I tapped my temple, demonstrating that I was smarter than she thought.

She got off her chair and hugged me.

“Aurgh, not in front of my friends,” I whined, but I enjoyed the hug, it was nice to know she really did like my present.

I sighed where I crouched on the attic floor. Those were simpler times, I wish we could go back to that. At least then Cherry was here with us. That was the most vivid memory I have of her. That day at her birthday party. Maybe it was because of the food fight we had started not soon after. But that was the memory I look back on to reassure myself that she really did love me now that she wasn’t here to tell me it.