Writerchick

Life, what is it? I find myself questioning its existence all the time. The fact that I can feel the cold wet drops of rain on my skin now does ...

The walls all around me were a darkish grey I was in the police station, a man in a dark blue suite was sitting across from me. He was apparently ...

The air was thick with mist. It was dark and the sounds of night were all around me, taunting me willing fear to slowly creep up into my body and ...

I felt a cold chill rush up my spine as the darkness touched my shoulder with his cold hands, my skin under his icy hand hurt. Fear was rushing through ...

And that’s how we came into being." said my grandpa as he puffed a little smoke into the air I never understood that story. The smell of smoke filled the ...

Rain is a beautiful thing; it’s like it washes away the problems and lets you start of on a was raining the day my mother disappeared and the same day ...

Nothing. Is all I can use to describe what’s around me. Desolation and misery are around me, Darkness is everywhere engulfing every single shred of space. So no light is ...

I don't do poetry very often and when I do it never goes well. My teacher wants me to write one and I have no idea what to do. I ...

You know what the funny thing is?She never really knew him. All the tears she cried, the he hurtful words she said to me, the sleepless nights where all for ...

I just kind of started writing and this is what happened, I think it needs a little more of something but I’m not sure what. Some help would be greatly ...