forum Hey~! I wanna hear your stories :)

Started January 18, 2018 by @adidaiida

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Hi everyone,

Nice to meet you all, I'm Adi. :)

I'd love to hear your stories, let's discuss.

Tell me what you think about the Dystopian genre.

Dystopian is great. Here's one of mine. Hope you like it :)
Micah Carter
Walking up the steps to the registration building, a simple purple flag caught my eye, reminding me of a moment when I was younger. I'm resting on the battered old fence with Oliver, my best mate. We hear the heavy rumble of a drum cadence, warning the troops have arrived in our hometown. In an eager struggle, we rush to Pilemonte Square. That's where everything important happens. Sure enough, the troops march past us where we stop on the corner. They sport the ever familiar purple flag that invites young men to swear there lives to the military.
Today is the day most lads would die for. Walking up these steps now the nerves take over. There's no way the service will trust me, I have too many scars. My eyes trace the minor white scars that stretch across my knuckles as I shove open the bulky steel doors. Each scar is a lie stated, whether to make others suffer or to spare them their feelings, they leave these scars. Only those with a few scars are deemed trustworthy. Those with many scars are regarded as deceptive and are misjudged. Fastening my eyes to the fracture in the floor I step up to the counter and linger until I am noticed. "Can I help you?" expresses a woman, narrow in stature but grand in nature. I pick up on the things she doesn't say. Studying the woman, I explain, "Yes I am here to register for the troops.". She gives me a lengthy stare, eyeing the thin scar tracing my jawline and nods. Pauline, as her name tag reads, dropped a thick stack of paperwork to fill out in my arms. I sit down with an exhale and begin the registration paperwork.
………
Noah Wright
"Do you think we should enlist this boy? I mean just have a glance at him. He's earned the scars to be a pathological liar." Pauline scolds me as I pace the area. "You saw his face, Pauline. He possesses the gift, and he doesn't even realize it. Employing him will be the best thing that's ever happened to the kid." I respond, rubbing the bridge of my nose. Usually, a boy with his amount of scars is turned down from the service. There's just something special about this one.

Oooo this is interesting! What kind of setting is the story in? Like time? I'm envisioning something like the 1900s

Yes!! It can be really anytime but the 1900s is a great idea!

Here's one of mine - it's kinda long lol

I'd always lived a relatively average life with my family. I was an accidental only child. I didn't even know if the person I called my father was my actual father. My mother had a lot of sexual relationships with people right before I was born. It lessened a little bit after, but sometimes she still brings men over. It disgusts me and it's super embarrassing. I'll invite a friend over and a new man will be with my mom on the couch, both half undressed. My friends normally don't come back.

And they hate gays. Which is an issue, considering I've been lesbian since I was thirteen. I didn't know what would happen, I guess. Everbody else is super homophobic in this town. This one girl at my old school, Alexis, she came out as bi about midway through the year. The word got out real fast, and one day when she was walking to school she was assaulted and left for dead. Somebody found her and took her to the hospital, but she died anyway. So I really shouldn't have said anything if I cared about my own life.

My very last friend, Abigail, she came over to my house one day. She's super cute, and before we knew what was happening, she laid me down on the bed and we were vigorously making out. And then my snobby mom came into my room with a can of beer in her hand and a cigarette in the other. She kicked Abigail out, leaving her with a couple bruises. But then she turned her wrath on me. I had a dislocated thumb and a swollen eye from what she did to me. If you turn my wrist over, you can see the tiny white scars etched into my wrist from when she tried to slit my wrists with her aluminum can in her drunken state.

I ran. I ran so far and never came back. I had no idea where I was. I just ran until my sides screamed in agony and my breath came in little wheezing gasps. Then I started walking. Just getting as far away as possible from that hellhole I called home for fifteen years.

And then my stomach hit me. I had skipped breakfast and lunch that day, and I nearly doubled over in my hunger pangs. I stumbled to a tiny coffee shop on the corner. With its pine green awnings and shiny windows, I figured I'd find something in here.

When I walked inside, a jolly little bell rang over my head. Almost nobody was inside. A girl sat on a stool at the counter braiding her hair. She looked up when the bell rang and looked so excited that I couldn't help but grin. She couldn't have been that much older than me. Freckles dotted her face like constellations in the sky. Her braids swung behind her shoulders when she stood up and greeted me. Her voice was like sunflowers brushing together in a grassy field.

Sorry that's all I have for right now but if you'd like you can continue the story!!!

^^ That's not incredibly Dystopian but sounds pretty bad to me O _ O sweats nervously

Arethusa has always been bullied because her emotion swings. She can be happy and then suddenly get depressed. One day she was walking home from school. It was dark and rainy. She decided to take a short cut to get home, but she got lost. She was wandering around when a man appeared in front of her. He stared at her for a while then said,”Arethusa?” Arethusa turns away from him and starts to run in fear. She thought had gotten away, but when she looked see if he was still behind her he was standing right there. He had black demonic wings coming out of his back. She was scared. Why is a demon after her? She had a class about demons and how to harm them if they corner you. She starts yelling,”Et auferetur daemonium!” He grabs her and stares at her then says,”Wrong words. You’re supposed to say ‘Go back to hell Evil being’ in Latin.” She starts to cry and beg him not to kill her. He laughs a little then says,”I don’t want to hurt you! I want to be your friend.” She was confused. Demons have always hated humans. An angel grabs her and says,”I’m sorry brother, but you’ll have to fight for her! You are not allowed to talk to anyone! You are supposed to be miserable!” The demon disappears after a sigh. For some reason Arethusa could feel the demon’s sadness. Arethusa finally gets home. She falls on her couch and tells herself she was just imagining the whole situation. She wakes up ready for the next day. She gets dressed for school ad leaves her house. She takes a deep breath and walks into her school. Her best friend, Zeek, sneaks up on her and grabs her arm. She jumps and screams then looks at him and yells,”Why did you dot that! If you ever try to scare me again I’ll rip your stupid face off!” He chuckles and says,”Calm down Arethusa.” She takes another deep breath and says sorry. They walk to class. The teacher waits for everyone to sit down and says,”We have a new student, Elias.” The student walks in. It was the demon! He sits in the seat next to Arethusa and whispers to her,”I’m real.” She looks at him and says,”Shut up.” Zeek looks at Elias then at Arethusa. “He bothering you?” He asks. Arethusa tells Zeek to ignore it. The bell rings as all the students leave the classroom. Arethusa was walking down the halls when 3 girl’s bump into her knocking her to the ground. Elias appears in front of her and helps her up. “Hey!” He says to the girls. They turn around and ask what he needs rudely. He says,”You pushes her down with your fake body.” One of the girls starts to tear up and says,”How did you know?” Arethusa quickly walks away. “Lucky guess.” He says,”Now if you push her again I’ll make you sorry! Got it!?” The girls nod and walk away, quickly, in fear. ~That is all I have right now. The story is supposed to be about how two people each other, but they’re not allowed to talk to each other. Elias is tortured everyday. Arethusa has to walk threw her schools being a freak. Yes or no, is it good so far?~

Woah! Very interesting plot lines! They're great! Can I have a run down of your characters? :3

"God I hate South America." Tyreese said monotonously, swatting the back of his neck in frustration.
"Quit your bitching, man, we've got a job to do!" I said, looking at the heavy, steel door.
"What kind of place do you think this is?" Eric said "And are we sure I should be in there, I'm a sniper, remember!"
I chuckled, you could always count on the team to ruin any kick-ass, take-no-prisoners state of mind.
"Yeah, a sniper and a coward, but you've got a point. Up there, those rocks" I said, pointing to an outcropping on the cliff that looked the most climbable around us. "Anyone lookin' to get in this hellhole, you take them out, got it old pal?" I said.
"Can do, boss." He said, and headed off.
"Andre, flashbang!" I ordered.
"You sure boss!"
"Positive."
Okay, fine."
He slapped one in my hand. I thanked him casually.
"What do you need one of those for, though?" He asked, rather openly.
Instead of wasting more time talking, I figured I'd show him. I could tell the door was locked, so I kicked it down, the sound of tearing steel ricochetting around my head, I activated the flashbang, and tossed it in the hole.
"Cover I said, and we turned, the team seeking cover just as the grenade exploded.
I did so myself, just in time to avoid a volley of bullets.
Leaning in the doorway, I fired back a storm of bullets using my newly drawn AK-47.
"Man," I said plugging my nose. Only three guys, and with low rate pistols no less, fucking South America man! Still, I used this opportunity to teach my new team, a very, very valuable lesson.
"See, my point, Andre, it doesn't take but one of these guys in a convenient spot to take you down, this ain't the movies…" I said.
"Think with your head, don't just go running dick first through this stinkhole, you got me! This ain't the movies!"
"Yessir!!!"
I sighed. Ah, progress!
"Advance! Keep on your toes ladies and gentleman!"
We crept down the hallway, some complaining about the stink of the place, some just complaining in general. I couldn't wait until shit hit the fan in here, then we could have some real fun. Or at least our familiars could.
A while into this cavernous mess, we heard speech, not harsh, grim, battle-hardened Spanish, but English.
I chuckled, as Gnaw jumped out from my being. I relished that churning, sliding feeling, the feeling of displaced weight in my mind, and in my body!
He shook off, slavering, and let loose a howl, a hundred times worse than the tearing of steel upon our entry, or the flashbang I'd thrown to guarantee said entry. It was his turn to have some fun now.
Target acquired.

First draft, damn I'm good.

I guess I'll start on #2 later…

It's a story stretched into three parts. Also, listen before or after to "Shots" by Imagine Dragons-it's what inspired this story.
PART 1
Laura popped a lemon yellow lollipop in her mouth and adjusted her backpack, jostling the glass jars inside. With a glance behind her, the sunrise gilded her blond hair as she started to walk. The woods stretched miles, the perfect place to hide an insane asylum.
Laura’s flowing black dress brushed the top of rubber boots, squelching through the damp foliage. Birds flew through the cloudy sky, and squirrels chattered. The city girl swallowed at the multiple sounds of nature, lollipop bobbing on her lips. But it was necessary!
She needed to get away from all the bad people in her life, cut them all off. And, and she had to leave him. Laura sniffled, eyes glimmering. “He-he’s fine. He’s fine. He’s fine..”
She swallowed, and squared her shoulders, “He’s fine. I’m fine. I need to do this, for his own safety.” The words kept the desolate teen walking. It was early in the afternoon when she found the asylum.
She stepped through the doorway. The stench of mildew and animal droppings permeated the air. Laura grimaced and then shrugged, “I’m only going to be here for a couple of hours. I’ll be fine.”
“Perfectly, perfectly fine,” Laura muttered as she climbed over a pile of rotten wood and rocks.
She passed through different rooms, a lively heartbeat among the stillness. Broken down beds and scattered equipment filled the dusty places, abandoned dolls or a mislaid boot.
She paused in the middle of one room, and nodded. It was the perfect place to have the ritual. She took multi-colored jars out of the backpack and set them in a circle in the middle of the room. Laura unscrewed the lids and placed a colored candle in each one, set on top of the ingredients inside; angelica and basil leaves, fennel seeds, dittany of crete flowers, ebony stones. Candlelight lit up the walls, giving a macabre feel to the scrawled graffiti, “Get out before they harvest your corpse.” “Dead people down here”. It wavered over Laura’s face, filling in the hollow grooves in her cheeks and dancing over her ribs, stuck out through her dress.
“I’m too-too damaged to be with you. I’m sorry.”

PART 2
With one hand, Anthony adjusted his sleeve and gulped. These woods were where Laura had been reported to be last. Doing his research, he had found that an old insane asylum resided in the woods, where spirits supposedly lurked. The insane asylum that he was currently standing in front of; Anthony rolled his eyes. It was just the thing to lure her in. He hoped this would work; if it didn’t, well, maybe they’d find his body in five or ten years. Taking a deep breath and clutching a bouquet, he nervously walked through the doorway.
The first hallway was white and choked with weeds, seeming more like a greenhouse corridor than a hall of an insane asylum. Years of seasons had dumped autumn leaves onto the floor through the cracked windows and squelched underneath polished Armani shoes. Passing through the other side, Anthony did not expect the darkness. It was midday, the sun directly overhead, and yet the entire building was plunged into gloomy black. The teenager scrambled to pull out his phone and turned the light app on, slowly peeking into rooms. It wasn’t long before one stood out.
Multi-colored jars sat in a circle in the dust, candlelight flickering slowly. He walked through the doorway and approached the circle. “Let’s hope this works.” Anthony stepped inside the circle. The dust and cobwebs in the middle looked disturbed. He set a bouqet of white and yellow daffodils and dark red carnations in the middle, before a sudden wave of heat blasted onto the teen, and ushered him into darkness.
“-ony? Anthony? Are you okay dear?” A white face shoved into his vision, causing the young boy to go crosseyed.
“Yes, I’m okay mother, I’m just tired,” Anthony smiled, “am I okay to go?”
“Of course dear, just make sure you don’t go near that Laura!” His mother’s words forgotten as soon as he heard it, Anthony first caught sight of the forbidden girl dancing by the fire, twirling her dress. He was mesmerized by her. Hours passed, and the girl had slipped by him once, twice, three times. Her golden hair turned corners as giggles followed in his wake.
“Where is she?” Anthony growled. He was determined to find her, and sweep her off her feet!
Suddenly he felt a hand take his from behind, and before Anthony knew it, he fell into a waltz with the girl. Time stood still as the music wrapped around the dancing pair. Anthony smiled as Laura grinned.
“C’mon!” She pulled the boy through the ballroom door, and into an adjacent room.
“Where-where are we?” Shadows wreathed the room. The darkness pressed on Anthony’s eyes. He gripped the girl’s hand tightly, relieved for one of his senses to work. He had lost almost all his senses; darkness clouded his vision, while the static white noise of nothingness grated his eardrums. Anthony accidentally sucked in dust, and the taste of fear alighted on his tongue.
“W-what is this-?” All of a sudden, the girl’s hand slipped from his grasp, “No-no please don’t leave me here!” The flick of a match being struck assaulted his ears. A flame bloomed in the dark, the mystery girl’s face beside it. They stood facing each other, the candle a bobbing light. She smiled darkly, and without a word, blew out the flame.

PART 3
Laura woke up and groaned. Then she blinked. She was lying sideways on the ground in the middle of the the witch circle, next to…
“Anthony! Oh nonononono, please nononono,” Laura trembled as she slowly laid Anthony on his back. A gasp scaped from her lips as tears started to spill out of her eyes. Laura wiped blood off his forehead, his mouth open in a silent scream. “I’m, I’m so so sorry..” Blood slowly trickled out of the corner of his mouth as his glassy eyes seemed accuse her.
People said they saw Laura Heck, but in the end, none of them were right.
“I’m so sorr-“
“What the hell happened?! Is that blood on you?!? What-what, what happened to my-my son?!?”
“He, I, it..he was trying to climb over a rafter to-to r-reach me and-and it was too rot-rotten..”
———————————-
“I’m-I’m so so sorry,”
“We-we know, you keep saying that-“ “But if our son sacrificed his life,” Mrs. Rare’s eyes glistened as she mustered a smile for the desolate girl, “to save yours, then I’m proud that he was able to.”
Tears streaked Laura’s red face as she stammered, “I-I-I will make it up to you, I-I swear.” Mr. Rare slung an arm over his wife’s shoulders as they walked away.
Laura stared at the snow-white headstone. A lily was carved over the words, “Anthony Ross Rare, 2/5/02-9/18/17. Loved and missed by many”.
Laura’s face was a mask as she laid a bouquet of daffodils, dark red carnations, and white lilies on the grave. “I promise.” Laura whispered to the empty air. Walking back to the front of the cemetary, a piece of paper peeked out of her clenched fist. Scribbled hastily across the top were the words, “Things to Stop Doing”. Heading the list- “No more witchcraft.”

(White carnations: pure love and good luck. Light red carnations: admiration. Dark red carnations: deep love and affection. Daffodils: rebirth and new beginnings. Lilies: associated with funerals, symbolizing the soul of the departed has received restored innocence after death.)

That was interesting… The very beginning gives me an anime vibe… What is the nature of this witchcraft? From your description it looks incredibly ritualistic which is awesome, and you seem to know your herbs…
I also like that it is something ritualistic and it isn't like…
"I shoot fire because of magic! Yaaay!"
I like the fact that she must use herbs and ingredients for witchcraft!

Is this witchcraft satanic in nature, or is it pagan, or maybe voodoo, or even Christian-based… From your description it sounds pagan!

This was conceived from the idea that my girl Laura was a witch, and particularly a light witch. It's pagan, and thank you! I didn't want to be ignorant and all "I like this flower so let's put it in the story!" I wanted it to have meaning. It was a spell for protection, healing, and courage; but for Laura herself, or for Anthony? Who knows..

Oooh, so I'm assuming Wiccan! This is neat…

I have a series about supernatural creatures involving a werewolf, and a vampire as a couple, imagine that. But there are witches… And the way their magic works is it's sort of a mastery of oneself, but there are rituals which let these witches do more powerful magic, and the magic tiering system goes like this… Low and middle tiers don't require rituals, just an ambiguous mastery of oneself and that school of magic, or deals with angels, demons, djinn, tengu etc., but high-tier magics do require rituals.

Low-tier includes things like controlling the elements of creation, which means that you get nifty powers like pyrokinesis, hydrokinesis, geekiness, aerokinesis, chlorokinesis, electrokinesis and a bit of biokinesis, and all elements are equal, none are dominant over each other, they are balanced.

Light mid-tier magics include performing miracles, precognition, postcognition, spatial projection, astral projection and photokinesis.
Dark mid-tier magics include some necromancy, performing curses, some death inducement, and umbrakinesis.

High tier manifests in the form of spells…
#0 mid-power reality warping spell…
#1 gaining the power of shapeshifting into animals for 13 days or so…
#2 summoning an angel or demon…
#3 complete resurrection…
#4 complete death inducement…
#5 performance of various miracles, blessings, and curses and such…
#6 limited wish granting…
#7 gaining of some inhuman knowledge…
#8 Summoning a ghost, djinn, tengu, or inugami/bakeneko…

This such story takes place in modern day America!

Wow, okay! I didn't know that it was so complicated as that, but thank you for enlightening me! I'll definitely have to incorporate it into Laura's other forays with magic.

I was frankly just telling you about my magic system, but if you'd like to take a shot at trying it my way, hell, be my guest.

I think you're spot on as far as your system… Just IMO.

Ah, thank you!

No problem…

A question, does your story revolve solely around witches or is there more?

Ah nah, I'm a liiiitle bit not sure. It's magical, that's for sure. Laura's a light witch, 4 other characters are aura users (temporary name), and my twins are either pyrokinetics or human phoenixes, still not sure.

That's badass, I love the concept of auras, what can aura-users do.

This is just a rough draft of a book I want to write…

Blackwater Lunatic Asylum July 20, 1985 Insanity is a sickness of the mind granted its one I never thought I’d have. I don’t think I am insane but I’m pretty sure that’s what most psychos say. Psycho, crazy, demented, mentally disturbed, etc. I do not think I fall into that category but, dear reader; I will let you determine whether I am sane or not, whether I deserve the punishment I have so graciously received. I do not think I’m crazy but isn’t that what psychos people say?

Room September 21, 2017
It's been two weeks since I've started school at Blackwater high, 3 months with my new therapist, and 4 years have passed since my mother has asked how I felt and genuinely cared about the answer. That's how my life is currently going.
Tears abruptly sprang to my eyes and I threw my journal and my pen at the wall furiously.
"Dmitri Bo Batesman!" Mom yelled while stomping downstairs to my room, aka the basement. "What is your problem, you know better than to throw stuff at the wall, don't make me bend you over my knee." I decided that it was in my best interest not to tell her she hasn't cared enough to bend me over her knees in years, or the fact that she was no longer capable to do so anyway. Mom looked at the mess I made and sighed, " Why can't you be like ordinary 16-year-old boys and go to parties, stay out late and not come home until 2'oclock in the morning?" How about because I'm not normal and nobody wants to invite the new weird kid to parties I mused bitterly. I didn't bother to justify her with an answer knowing it's pointless and she'd just yell at me some more which, coincidently happened anyway.
"I asked you a question," mom said, putting her hands on her hips, "and don't give me that crap about not having friends who want to invite you. Have you ever tried to make a friend since we've been here?"
"No," I answer truthfully, "no I have not."
"Well, why don't you have any friends?"
"Because nobody wants to be my friend", I stated matter-of-factly, shifting uncomfortably under my mother's gaze.

Sorry it's kinda long.