So, I am alway on the look out for Penulisan contests with inspiring prompts for me to enter. I got really exited when I found this one:
link because I had an idea for it right away. I spent all afternoon researching the Battle of Little Bighorn, because I wanted to set it in the aftermath of that battle, and Penulisan it, instead of Penulisan a biography of William Blake that I was supposed to be doing for school :P. then, when I went to go hantar it, I figured out the people wanted me to sign up for a membership to their website for $6.75 a bulan to enter the contest, which I don't really want to. So, please read this, guys, and give me feedback, because I feel like I worked realy hard on it for nothing.
Aiyana focused on the rhythm of her footsteps and prayed to the spirits of the Earth and wind that they would give her the strength to carry on her journey. Her brown eyes burned from the glare of the setting sun that lay right in front of her, but she refused to turn her eyes from the path in front of her. The dusty Montana soil filled her moccasins and chaffed her feat. Sweat matted wisps of her glossy black hair, tied in two braids, to her forehead. Her deer skin dress was tattered and smeared with dirt. Aiyana believed at a very young age in the Cheyenne principles of nature and living spirits that connected everything on Earth. When a person respects the land around them, the spirits would guide anda and provide everything necessary for anda to live contently and peacefully. Aiyana knew how to connect with the spirits of soil, crop, water, and sky, and learned to Cinta them, but she knew no one person could own nature as if it was there possession. When the moon-skinned men first came to the Sacred Hill, she welcomed them because they were part of nature just as she was. Soon after meeting them, her blood began to boil against them. They had no respect for Earth and talked to her father as if their intentions were to keep the soil of the Sacred bukit to themselves, without sharing it with anyone else. Their lifestyle was stuffy, pompous, and boring; they never danced atau told stories, and looked down on Aiyana’s people when they performed their ritual dances. Her dislike for them collected in her hati, tengah-tengah and became lebih and lebih passionate every day. Then, on a summer day, the moon-skinned men, with their weapons of api, kebakaran and thunder, slaughtered her kin. She gritted her teeth as the visions of people she loved fell to the ground as the moon-skins unemotionally and ruthlessly went on with fighting. The survivors of the Cheyenne tribe were captured as prisoners; bound sejak the hands and ruffed into a rickety train car. They were to be driven to a new place, so the moon-skins could posses Sacred Hill. Aiyana was last in line to be forced on the train, right after her mother. Right before she was thrust into the car, she stomped on her captivator’s foot, whirled around, and spat in his face. He, in turn, cuffed her face with the butt of his senapang and pushed her to the ground. He yelled something not of her language, and signaled for the train to start moving. Smoke billowed out of the train and the wheels started to pick up speed before Aiyana had the strength to get up. The last thing she heard from the train was her mother screaming her name. As soon as she got back on her feet, she went to the battlefield and picked up a spear from one of her fallen brethren.
Now, she had only two things on her mind; her mother and revenge. She knew that the train had to follow the path of its tracks, and eventually it had to come to a stop. All she had to do was walk along the tracks and she would end up the same place as the moon-skins brought her mother. For the past two days and nights, all Aiyana did was march between the rails, eyes foreword and head held high, battling hunger, thirst, heat, and fatigue, and she planned to do so until she got to her destination atau dropped down dead. She was the face of perseverance, courage, and faith. Like her namesake, she was an “eternal blossom,” beautiful and graceful, but strong and powerful enough to make her mark in the universe, even after death.
link because I had an idea for it right away. I spent all afternoon researching the Battle of Little Bighorn, because I wanted to set it in the aftermath of that battle, and Penulisan it, instead of Penulisan a biography of William Blake that I was supposed to be doing for school :P. then, when I went to go hantar it, I figured out the people wanted me to sign up for a membership to their website for $6.75 a bulan to enter the contest, which I don't really want to. So, please read this, guys, and give me feedback, because I feel like I worked realy hard on it for nothing.
Aiyana focused on the rhythm of her footsteps and prayed to the spirits of the Earth and wind that they would give her the strength to carry on her journey. Her brown eyes burned from the glare of the setting sun that lay right in front of her, but she refused to turn her eyes from the path in front of her. The dusty Montana soil filled her moccasins and chaffed her feat. Sweat matted wisps of her glossy black hair, tied in two braids, to her forehead. Her deer skin dress was tattered and smeared with dirt. Aiyana believed at a very young age in the Cheyenne principles of nature and living spirits that connected everything on Earth. When a person respects the land around them, the spirits would guide anda and provide everything necessary for anda to live contently and peacefully. Aiyana knew how to connect with the spirits of soil, crop, water, and sky, and learned to Cinta them, but she knew no one person could own nature as if it was there possession. When the moon-skinned men first came to the Sacred Hill, she welcomed them because they were part of nature just as she was. Soon after meeting them, her blood began to boil against them. They had no respect for Earth and talked to her father as if their intentions were to keep the soil of the Sacred bukit to themselves, without sharing it with anyone else. Their lifestyle was stuffy, pompous, and boring; they never danced atau told stories, and looked down on Aiyana’s people when they performed their ritual dances. Her dislike for them collected in her hati, tengah-tengah and became lebih and lebih passionate every day. Then, on a summer day, the moon-skinned men, with their weapons of api, kebakaran and thunder, slaughtered her kin. She gritted her teeth as the visions of people she loved fell to the ground as the moon-skins unemotionally and ruthlessly went on with fighting. The survivors of the Cheyenne tribe were captured as prisoners; bound sejak the hands and ruffed into a rickety train car. They were to be driven to a new place, so the moon-skins could posses Sacred Hill. Aiyana was last in line to be forced on the train, right after her mother. Right before she was thrust into the car, she stomped on her captivator’s foot, whirled around, and spat in his face. He, in turn, cuffed her face with the butt of his senapang and pushed her to the ground. He yelled something not of her language, and signaled for the train to start moving. Smoke billowed out of the train and the wheels started to pick up speed before Aiyana had the strength to get up. The last thing she heard from the train was her mother screaming her name. As soon as she got back on her feet, she went to the battlefield and picked up a spear from one of her fallen brethren.
Now, she had only two things on her mind; her mother and revenge. She knew that the train had to follow the path of its tracks, and eventually it had to come to a stop. All she had to do was walk along the tracks and she would end up the same place as the moon-skins brought her mother. For the past two days and nights, all Aiyana did was march between the rails, eyes foreword and head held high, battling hunger, thirst, heat, and fatigue, and she planned to do so until she got to her destination atau dropped down dead. She was the face of perseverance, courage, and faith. Like her namesake, she was an “eternal blossom,” beautiful and graceful, but strong and powerful enough to make her mark in the universe, even after death.
She fell to the floor and wept, and the jar shook
The hari ended on a cold note for the cold night
He had her hati, tengah-tengah sealed in a jar, fragile and trapped
Until he had his moment and let go
With little strength, she had saved it and ran
She had ran until the darkness was unbearable,
As she wept, the jar shivered in her arms
Her dark blue eyes were drenched
And her mind was a dark, narrow corridor.
Her heat prolonged in entrapment,
Torturing her unknowingly with each eternity-like moment.
Finally, she ceased her overwhelming emotions,
Now silent and pondering
Distracted, the jar fell, and shattered at her feet
He’s gone. He’s gone! The words danced in her mind.
Her hati, tengah-tengah was free, and she was free
She got to her feet, no longer stumbling
And the shattered jar crunched under her feet
There was no lebih pain.
~~~~~~~~
...Yeah, I know it kinda sucks. Like I said, first attempt. :/
The hari ended on a cold note for the cold night
He had her hati, tengah-tengah sealed in a jar, fragile and trapped
Until he had his moment and let go
With little strength, she had saved it and ran
She had ran until the darkness was unbearable,
As she wept, the jar shivered in her arms
Her dark blue eyes were drenched
And her mind was a dark, narrow corridor.
Her heat prolonged in entrapment,
Torturing her unknowingly with each eternity-like moment.
Finally, she ceased her overwhelming emotions,
Now silent and pondering
Distracted, the jar fell, and shattered at her feet
He’s gone. He’s gone! The words danced in her mind.
Her hati, tengah-tengah was free, and she was free
She got to her feet, no longer stumbling
And the shattered jar crunched under her feet
There was no lebih pain.
~~~~~~~~
...Yeah, I know it kinda sucks. Like I said, first attempt. :/
Ok, so I just want to write a little summary to my story that I want to write called A Place of Our Own I'm basically Penulisan this to see if people will like it, and if they do, I'll write more. :)
So anyways, it's about a Hollie, 17 tahun old girl who has an alcoholic mother and a step father who abuses her as well as her 12 tahun old sister, Amy. Hollie's been in a 3 tahun on/off relationship with a heroin addicted boyfriend, Danny. When a close call puts Danny in the hospital, he promises Hollie that he'll quit and they'll find a better life. This causes Hollie to realize that she needs to leave utama and find help herself.
So yeah, if anda liked this, please komen and there WILL be more. Thanks. :)
So anyways, it's about a Hollie, 17 tahun old girl who has an alcoholic mother and a step father who abuses her as well as her 12 tahun old sister, Amy. Hollie's been in a 3 tahun on/off relationship with a heroin addicted boyfriend, Danny. When a close call puts Danny in the hospital, he promises Hollie that he'll quit and they'll find a better life. This causes Hollie to realize that she needs to leave utama and find help herself.
So yeah, if anda liked this, please komen and there WILL be more. Thanks. :)
~ Chapter 1: Dreams
Love. Unconditional and pure Cinta was there, found in their hearts. Feelings, pure and strong lived from hari to day.
But the days were cold. Cold wind froze their dreams.
A child was born.
Dreams, spreading its roots, now slowly fade.
But still live and last in the hearts of the dreamers.
A child wasn't a part of a dream, though.
It wasn't. But Cinta was still there, although destroyed sejak many issues, it started fading slowly like a smothered flame.
Mother's eyes was full of hope and hati, tengah-tengah full of love, so pure, so gentle.
She knew. Life won't be susu and honey, though she must be strong.
Looking at her baby girl, happy and sad in the same time, so many thoughts were flying through her head.
So many questions, perhaps a small dose of regret.
She felt sadness inside.
Cinta was still there, that pure Cinta that kept them alive, though these dreams they both had were somehow far and unreal.
A flame of Cinta was still burning...
Love. Unconditional and pure Cinta was there, found in their hearts. Feelings, pure and strong lived from hari to day.
But the days were cold. Cold wind froze their dreams.
A child was born.
Dreams, spreading its roots, now slowly fade.
But still live and last in the hearts of the dreamers.
A child wasn't a part of a dream, though.
It wasn't. But Cinta was still there, although destroyed sejak many issues, it started fading slowly like a smothered flame.
Mother's eyes was full of hope and hati, tengah-tengah full of love, so pure, so gentle.
She knew. Life won't be susu and honey, though she must be strong.
Looking at her baby girl, happy and sad in the same time, so many thoughts were flying through her head.
So many questions, perhaps a small dose of regret.
She felt sadness inside.
Cinta was still there, that pure Cinta that kept them alive, though these dreams they both had were somehow far and unreal.
A flame of Cinta was still burning...
Texas Rancho Viejo 1942
Bonnie's POV
I walked quickly down the dusty dirt road, I kicked and scrapped pebbels, It was hot and dry today, another great thing when your isolated! *CRASH* I gasped, I slowed to a stop and carfully and slowwly turned around. Behind me stood a man. He had wild brown hair and blue piercing eyes, He held a gun and a charcol covered teddy bear. He smiled and inchined twords me. "Whoa pardner, who are you?" I asked in my thick texian accent. "I am a friend" He berkata kindly. I suspiciously eyed him up and down. I reached into my back pocket and gripped my fingers around a gun I found. "Dont be afraid i'll make it all better" He moved closer to me, I panicked.Is this the phantom murder? I thought. I pulled out my gun and aimed it at him. "I dont think anda will"
I berkata sweetly, then I triggered it and shot him, he fell to the ground stunned. I smiled. When your isolated in texas anda cant trust anyone. and i mean ANYONE.
Bonnie's POV
I walked quickly down the dusty dirt road, I kicked and scrapped pebbels, It was hot and dry today, another great thing when your isolated! *CRASH* I gasped, I slowed to a stop and carfully and slowwly turned around. Behind me stood a man. He had wild brown hair and blue piercing eyes, He held a gun and a charcol covered teddy bear. He smiled and inchined twords me. "Whoa pardner, who are you?" I asked in my thick texian accent. "I am a friend" He berkata kindly. I suspiciously eyed him up and down. I reached into my back pocket and gripped my fingers around a gun I found. "Dont be afraid i'll make it all better" He moved closer to me, I panicked.Is this the phantom murder? I thought. I pulled out my gun and aimed it at him. "I dont think anda will"
I berkata sweetly, then I triggered it and shot him, he fell to the ground stunned. I smiled. When your isolated in texas anda cant trust anyone. and i mean ANYONE.