Sammycat101
New member
My passion is writing. I am 12, but need to know if I have the potential to become a professional author. I don't want to hear "it's good for your age" I want a do or don't. So here is my quick on the spot fictional piece.
As I sit here In the dark room, I clench my small fists until they are a ghostly white, though I can barely tell. My head is throbbing. Beating like an African drum. As my heart pounds against my fragile chest, I try to calm myself.
I can't. There I was, lying on the floor in the black closet, unable to move, just letting the last minutes of my life slip away. I was drenched in shadow, drowning in an ocean of sorrow, envy, and my own self Pity.
I am ashamed to say, that I could feel my tears trickling down my scarred cheeks, leaking across my lips, and seaping down my neck. The brave Chloe Barns never cried, but as I lay there, restrained and pleading, I sobbed.
No one could hear me. My shaking voice was muffled by the ebony door barracading me from the rest of humanity. I thought that my culprit would leave me to rot, just let me die quietly... but what they did to me in the end... was worse than taking 7 bullets through the chest, and wasn't worth living through.
If you liked it, I may finish it up, it's not long, but any feedback would be great. Thank you.
As I sit here In the dark room, I clench my small fists until they are a ghostly white, though I can barely tell. My head is throbbing. Beating like an African drum. As my heart pounds against my fragile chest, I try to calm myself.
I can't. There I was, lying on the floor in the black closet, unable to move, just letting the last minutes of my life slip away. I was drenched in shadow, drowning in an ocean of sorrow, envy, and my own self Pity.
I am ashamed to say, that I could feel my tears trickling down my scarred cheeks, leaking across my lips, and seaping down my neck. The brave Chloe Barns never cried, but as I lay there, restrained and pleading, I sobbed.
No one could hear me. My shaking voice was muffled by the ebony door barracading me from the rest of humanity. I thought that my culprit would leave me to rot, just let me die quietly... but what they did to me in the end... was worse than taking 7 bullets through the chest, and wasn't worth living through.
If you liked it, I may finish it up, it's not long, but any feedback would be great. Thank you.