Darcy
Now I am not a professional writer, nor am I even particularly good. However I do enjoy writing and sometimes inspiration does hit and I scribble out a few lines of nonsense. Now my friend Jenn is a writer! She has her own blog here
One of the main differences between me and Jenn (besides her talent) is planning. She has pages upon pages of character notes, plotlines and main events. I, on the other hand, generally have an introduction, an ending line or paragraph and some vague skeletally framed characters. Starting from now I am determined to flesh out my ideas more and actually finish a story! (I have been saying the same thing about my art for years but that's another story)
According to my phone I wrote the following short story in 2013 which is when I first got my phone. I can remember writing this laying on my bed one December night whilst QI or something played in the background. This is an example of me just splurging out an idea but I hope you enjoy it. See you soon ~
Darcy - 9/12/2013
Darcy lay there not looking the way they said he would. There was no peace to be found in that agonised twist of his face. As I sat there clutching his warm dead hand I could almost convince myself he was alive. Could have if the nurse hadn't have been there, waiting in the doorway, expecting me to leave. I wasn't family so I had no right. No one would understand that I could not leave the other half of my own sick and twisted soul. The yin to my yang. But we were only teenagers so what did we know? I stood, took a deep breath, as deep as I dared without feeling like my chest would burst and walked. Out of the room, out of the ward, the hospital ... Darcy's unlife. Walking is what we did, what I alone now did. The thought was daunting. How to walk without Darcy. It sounded dramatic. But he had been there every step of the way. He had walked me home when I was bullied to protect me from the crowd. Had walked me home after the school prom. Walked me over the hills and through the trails when all I wanted to do was lash out. We walked together from his appointment. I had walked him into his surgery. I walked myself down the country lanes, the ones where one mistake could see you gone. I looked at the floor and I walked and walked and walked till I was walking into Darcy's arms again.
One of the main differences between me and Jenn (besides her talent) is planning. She has pages upon pages of character notes, plotlines and main events. I, on the other hand, generally have an introduction, an ending line or paragraph and some vague skeletally framed characters. Starting from now I am determined to flesh out my ideas more and actually finish a story! (I have been saying the same thing about my art for years but that's another story)
According to my phone I wrote the following short story in 2013 which is when I first got my phone. I can remember writing this laying on my bed one December night whilst QI or something played in the background. This is an example of me just splurging out an idea but I hope you enjoy it. See you soon ~
Darcy - 9/12/2013
Darcy lay there not looking the way they said he would. There was no peace to be found in that agonised twist of his face. As I sat there clutching his warm dead hand I could almost convince myself he was alive. Could have if the nurse hadn't have been there, waiting in the doorway, expecting me to leave. I wasn't family so I had no right. No one would understand that I could not leave the other half of my own sick and twisted soul. The yin to my yang. But we were only teenagers so what did we know? I stood, took a deep breath, as deep as I dared without feeling like my chest would burst and walked. Out of the room, out of the ward, the hospital ... Darcy's unlife. Walking is what we did, what I alone now did. The thought was daunting. How to walk without Darcy. It sounded dramatic. But he had been there every step of the way. He had walked me home when I was bullied to protect me from the crowd. Had walked me home after the school prom. Walked me over the hills and through the trails when all I wanted to do was lash out. We walked together from his appointment. I had walked him into his surgery. I walked myself down the country lanes, the ones where one mistake could see you gone. I looked at the floor and I walked and walked and walked till I was walking into Darcy's arms again.
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