Some Old Creative Writing.

I have a binder of some old creative writing from high school I dug up. Although the language is not as colorful as some may hope, I still think they are decent pieces for the age I did them. I've always loved to write, but stopped after school, as there was no real "reason" to do them, and I couldn't find any inspiration. I thought I'd share a few. Very slight changes are made from the original pieces, and proper spacing may not be correct. Blogspot doesn't allow indenting. I'll be showing the first piece in this blog post.

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REFERENCE

A girl freezes in a telephone booth,

In her daughty coat she hides

A face all smeared

In tears and lipstick.

She breathes on her thin palms,

Her fingers are icy. She wears earrings.

She'll have to go home alone, alone,

Along the icy street.

First ice. It is the first time.

The first ice of telephone phrases.

Frozen tears glitter on her cheeks,

The first ice of human hurt.

[Source: First Ice written by Andrei Voznesensky]

Our writing had to include various parts, and we were to use our imagination. 
It also had to be written in the third person view. This is my piece:

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Darkness was nearing the city. Clouds started to blot out the sun; and all that could be heard was the rustling of trees. The temperature was dropping at an alarming rate as a young girl rose off of the park bench. She tied up the front of her over overcoat and bunched the coat in tight to her cold body, hoping to gain warmth. Her heart felt colder then her body, however, because he never showed. That small flame of desire seemed to be snuffed out by a sense of great disappointment. 

The tree where their initials were carved, and the path on which she walks now.. she has walked with him many times before. The absence of his warmth, and love, made the young woman feel empty, and alone. This is something she hasn't had to feel in quite some time, why didn't he show?

All was silent, with the exception of her black stilettos tapping against the pavement. The moon had the city in it's slumber, or so it seemed. The silence was broken when a ringing sound was heard from afar. The young woman looked startled, but walked closer, as the ringing got louder.

The caller I.D. read a familiar number that made every hair on her neck stand on end, as her mouth opened in awe. It couldn't be true, could it? He would never leave the young woman alone, he just wouldn't! A blood stained hand peering out of the bushes made her eyes water. The crescent shaped scar on the left hand made the horror a reality. She stumbled back onto the dew covered grass, but did not let out a single sound. All color was drained from her face, save for the ruby red lipstick that made her look all the more chilled. The phone's ringing eventually stopped, but he still did not move. 

I finally saw her get up, and she ran quickly, as if trying to run out of a living nightmare. Maybe she thought she would be able to save him if she got to the booth soon enough. I saw her tears freeze and stick to that beautifully terrified face, as she dialed 911.

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This piece was written in the 10th grade, I was 14/15 at the time.  My mark on this project was perfect. I was quite proud of the piece, considering the amount of time I had to write it. I may share more short writing pieces, and I hope this one can be enjoyed!

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