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Young Writers Society


The Age Guesser:



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44 Reviews



Gender: Nonbinary
Points: 115
Reviews: 44
Fri Dec 04, 2015 4:12 pm
SkyeWalker says...



Here's the Rules:

You post a short passage of your writing in quotes: If you need the code to do quotes, here it is:
Code: Select all
[spoiler][/spoiler]
You post about 4-5 paragraphs, or a page or so of your work.

Before you do that, look at the post above yours and read that passage. Guess what age they are, and forget all of your previous knowledge about this person.

Wait at least two posts before posting again.

Be Honest. ;)

Have fun! :D

I'll go first.

Zhia awoke to an intense rumbling that shook her to her very core and nearly jarred her out of her tree.

To be fair, earthquakes weren’t all that common in Asia (or anywhere else in the world now. So it was appropriate that she was caught off-guard and very nearly fell eight meters to the jungle floor.

I’m awake, She thought, with a trace of humor. Back at the Z.A.C, one of the early risers would ring the giant bell in the center of camp and wake everyone as soon as the sun touched the horizon. It had taken Zhia a long time to get used to it, as she was used to sleeping in a tree, much like as she was now, until either her little sister woke her… or she felt like it. Usually when she felt like it.

Zhia’s tree was a nice one, with wide, thick branches and a thick canopy. The lowest branches were three meters above the earth, so only she could reach them with a wind-enhanced jump. From there, the branches were easily climbable, and the branch where she slept was hollowed out like a bowl so that she wouldn’t fall. However, the bowl-mechanism hadn’t worked this time.

Someone remind me to fix that, Zhia thought crossly, eyebrows furrowed.

Zhia rose to her haunches, quietly remembering her brief time with other people. And shook her head. It was no use thinking about that, she had to stay here and protect the key for the rest of what could only be a short life. When the earth is crawling with zombies, you can’t really help dying early. If you’re alone, you’d do more good killing yourself. Living forever as an undead creature was way worse than just letting go. But Zhia couldn’t do that. She had to stay and protect the key. Zhia patted her belt, hands searching for the dagger-key.

Wait. Where is it? Where is it!? No! It’s- Zhia looked around frantically. It had to be here somewhere! So Zhia crawled around her hollowed out branch, searching for the key. She would have gotten many splinters if her hands weren’t already calloused enough from years of hard work.


This is a Storybook post that I recently wrote! How old would you say I am, guys?
My pronouns are they/them.

Formerly Zhia and Reneia
  





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440 Reviews



Gender: Female
Points: 6836
Reviews: 440
Sat Dec 05, 2015 5:14 pm
Wolfi says...



Very cool idea, and very nice writing. I'd say you're.... fifteen! :)

This is from the second chapter of my novel Copper Dust:
Immediately, I was engulfed in the wind’s icy breath. I buttoned my suit and dug my hands into its unfamiliar pockets before slipping into the bleak and deserted street and wandering into an alleyway between the livery stable and the post office. I didn’t know what I was doing. I wanted to prolong the funeral, I suppose; maybe run away.

I wandered to the back of the livery stable and climbed through the window and up the ladder to the hay-strewn attic, where I knew I could get a good view of the street and the hills beyond. It was also where I had spent many hours with Hezekiah, the stableman - whose pallet and bedding up there was almost always occupied by a roost of chickens - reading and rereading from his collection of novels and stories. He was very fond of me, even though I was the typical troublemaker who notoriously dipped the ends of girls’ braids into inkwells during church, and frankly, I don’t know what he saw in me, except that I liked to read. In any case, he became a father I never really had.

Scattering a few chickens, I crept to one of the windows and undid the latch. The sheriff was standing on the front porch of my house, scanning the street and rubbing his hands together. Waiting. When I didn’t show myself, he donned his hat and walked away, towards the funeral. I’m sure he was eager for the warmth of the church. I sure wasn’t.
John 14:27:
Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you.
I do not give to you as the world gives.
Do not let your hearts be troubled
and do not be afraid.
  





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110 Reviews



Gender: Male
Points: 546
Reviews: 110
Sun Dec 06, 2015 7:40 am
Zolen says...



16?


From a list of short stories I labeled "In my mind I dream."
Spoiler! :
In my mind I dream of a empty school room, the teachers desk coated in a fine layer of dust, a moldy apple half eaten among many half graded papers. The chair rusted and snapped in half, and a blackened outline of what might have been the man who worked there. I looked around the room and found plenty of ash and dust, but much more was there. Every student desk filled with books and their little artifacts, colorful stickers and toys they used to amuse themselves while the teacher talked. The seats were all filled with ash and little fingers seemed to have drawn in the dust on top of their desk. Scratch marks of their one week loves and the people they hate. Before I left the room I thought I heard yelling, and a echo down the hall.

In my mind I dream I am a octopus, the ever present hue of blue I would see with my own eyes in such a ocean a dull grey with many shades of white and black in between. I crawl a coral reef in search of prey, hardly in control of my tentacles, yet ever aware. I can not see the colors of what is bellow me, but I can FEEL it. I can feel the blues and reds, the yellows and greens. I can feel the colors of my skin change to match and the moment all my tentacles stop so I can hide. I know I will have to wait a long time.

In my mind I dream of a world with such vibrant colors I think I might go blind on the beauty of it. "Truly" I thought, "Truly this is how the world should be." After many minutes, many hours, many days observing the vibrant flora and fauna, breathing in the lights and towns with their elegant shine, I saw grey. Grey was on the horizon, as were all the other dull colors of our world. I ran and scream for help, but nobody noticed as their world went dull, only me. Then I was dull as well.
Self quoting is the key to sounding wise and all knowing.
  








okay I think I need to grab some nachos
— BluesClues