Young Writers Society

I walked into the kitchen just in time to her him say that I'm not worth it, that I'm not worth his time or his breath. That he wasn't gonna ...

You crawl through the back door and knock on the side of my cell phone. I wake in the hive of mornings to your voice, swooning security that keeps these ...

Hello, There is a literature contest going on at my school, and I'm going to enter in three categories (one chapter from a novel in progress, an original short story, ...

As Emi stared at the wall, she heard the squelching of shoes in the mud. She turned in the direction of the noise. A trio rounded the bend and came ...

“Ah-huh.” sarcasm played through his voice, and a slight flicker of panic ran across Leah’s face, though she quickly disguised it as a sneeze. “Well, then,” said the Geezer in ...

Removed.

students listen and listen well for i have an amazing tale to tell and its all about the teachers as I'm sure you will agree they haven't got a clue ...

through the whispers through the hate within the darkness lies a hidden fate the fatal strike of the hallway clock three chimes ring and demons mock with there claws they ...

Chapter 1 Selena walked home from school, that night. She attended night-school at the Community College due to her “advanced learning skills.” At least, that’s what the teacher’s called it; ...

What do you think of this as a beginning for another story? I would use this to kind of...introduce it, and then have a different story next. I want to ...

Ether I am. Either that, or Thither I go. Fundamentally attributing Everything I know Of you and them To what I see In the moment. [I am] A fool that ...

In each man doth cupid sits poised, stringing his bow, singing, though inaudible his voice. For long ago was his body done in, now flies he in spirit, name's now ...

A Pillar of Salt I remember. It is not by choice. If I could, I would delete the memory entirely, taking away the vivid details and replacing it with a ...

Sunny days, Burning fire, Careful consideration of my attire. Heart aflutter, Face like stone, Will you let me take you home? Wishful thinking, Teary eyes, God my life is full ...

this is how I used to be – writing in longhand, being present only because I wasn’t absent, wishing for remission, not quite getting there. it reminds me of the ...