Posted in Posted by Emily Dickinson

Hello everyone,

It is just amazing how nature can give you so much inspiration. My family and I just got back from my grandparents 16 acre farm. Thankfully fall reaches Northern Florida! The leaves had all turned, and the skies were grey. The wind blew and it was chilly. And I had a 4+ hour drive in which time span I was able to create some of my story..... yet to have a name, *Now remember. I will most likely be changing parts of the story....*

Introduction

Light. Bright, piercing white light. Please....make it stop. Anyone. Just end it.....

The girl's eyes now adjusted to the pulsaating, electrical light. She could see, beyond her think eyelashes, the cold, metallic room, devoid of any originality save for a sign crudely made from an old file and duct tape, wich read "The corrupt shall be dealt with- KILL!" THe girl saw this. She knew that she was one of these 'corrupt', and that she would one day  be killed for her choices. And that's why she was here. In a prison cell. She had been on the Surface, scaveging for food, trying to stay hidden, but she had failed. Someone had seen her and sounded an alarm. Then the guards came. They captured her, mercilessly beating her. My face is still so painful she thought, as the wounds throbbed with her heart. And here she was, strapped into a defnctional electrical chair, used to mess with and torture the prisoners mind and emotions. Plenty of people had denounced their faith and trust in the Rider, manipulated into their decisions. But then again, even more had lost their lives because they made their choice crystal clear. The lost memories overwhlemed the girl, and tears formed in her bruised eyes, stinging them, and forming new ones from the pain.  Her red hair matted to the side of her face, but she was no less beautiful. Suddenly, the single metal door slamme dopen, and a severe looking officer strode in, looking very smug. His dark brown hair was cut very close to his head and he was clean shaven. Overall, he looked like a guy you would see on the Military channel. His aged eyes showed years of experience, along with a distrust for humans. This must be what got him as far as he has the girl thought.
"Well well well. What has the cat brought in? A scavenger, huh?" He chuckled at what must have been a personal joke, for the girl found no humor in it. He then pulled out a file from what appered to be nowhere. He flipped it open, and read off "Elsie Lewis Way...18 years old...." He looked up to her, and she glared back at him. I can't let him think that he has a stronger will! I can't let him crush me.When the offier saw her glare, he sighed.
         "Fine. If you won't do this the easy way, I'm willing to do it the hard way." He walked over to her, grinning, ans struck her face as hard as possible.The pain didn't come at first, but she could feel the onslaught making it's way through her veins. Then, all she saw was black...

I will post some more soon. By then, I'll probably have changed this part of the story! :D

-Emily Dickinson

Posted in Posted by Emily Dickinson

Hello,

Well, I finally got back on here. And I havestarted to branch out and read other author's works. I am overwhelmed at the different styles of writing, and at the depth of them. Jane Austen's writings are one of them, and they continue to blow me away as I read about Jake. Hopefully I will become as fluent and poetic as the brilliant writers that dwell together on this blog.

I'm posting some of my earlier poems today. I know that they're in need of some real work, and if you have any ideas, please do let me know!

The End of Gravity

'Colors flash before my eyes',
some say void- a ruse, a guise.
Most say rest, some say less,
I'll believe in my own guess.

Soon I'll board a Ship of gold,
lead me past the field of old,
see the wonders long untold,
travel on a journey bold.

See the wonders- Outerspace;
far above the Human race.

A welcome hand, a joyous face
as I meet One of untold grace.
Now I say 'Goodbye' to gravity,
as I dwell with Him for all eternity.

The Anatomy of Consent

Hair falls in front of his eyes,
Blocking view from thier lies.

Yes, I know. It's quite small. But I think that it leaves the reader open to contemplate what the meaning is. If you think it needs more, please let me know......

And here is the 'Intro' to my soon-to-be story:

It is a story about a girl named Elsie Lewis who gives her life to the mysterious leader. Not many people know about him, and those who do aren't there anymore to tell anyone. The people that follow this leadergive up their normal life in society, because in order to live in this 'faith' of the leader, they need to keep it a secret. They are called the Chosen. Society lives for the moment, not caring for tomorrow. Thier motto is Carpe Diem, live for the moment. But while this may be good now, the leaders in this part of life are leading the people to death.

Modern society wants to banish the Chosen, these rioters and disturbers of peace, so the Chosen people go underground, and create thier own cities and places of safety, where they can learn more about what they have given their lives to.

But one day while on the surface, Elsie Lewis finds a boy that is undecided. And Elsie knows that if she can save him,  it would mean one more soul saved. So Elsie brings him into the Chosen people's territory and tries to show him their way of life.

This story is about the friendship between these two, and how they grow in the faith that Elsie is hoping to share with the boy.

And again, if you have any ideas or comments, please let me know! :D

-Emily Dickinson

Posted in Posted by Emily Dickinson

Hi everyone.

My friend wrote to me one day, and in her letter, this is what she created. She thinks it isn't very good, so I'm posting this to prove her wrong. I think that it is beautiful and sad at the same time, and that she is brilliant with words....

"Love. is when you want someone to be happy, no matter what, wether it's with you or not, love is when just being together is enough and you treasure every moment, love is when your heart breaks everytime the person your in love with has a bad day, get's their feelings hurt, or just anything to make them anything but happy. Love is complicated, it's not easy it's not simple it is the hardest thing I've ever been through.
But it's worth it.

Love is when your in the deepest pain possible, and your lover is upset, and you do all you can to make their day better...

Love is worth every tear, love is when you wipe away every tear.
Love is when that special someone, may not feel the same about you....and they do everything to break you, and everything to destroy the very core of your being.
and you say "i still love you" and you'd take them back in a heart beat.
Love is forgiveness.
Love is always being sorry, that your not good enough, that you don't try hard enough, that your not worthy enough.

Love is when your not good enough for someone. But you try till it hurts to be good enough, even though you know you never will be.

Love is?"

We would both love if you will leave your thoughts and comments here.

-Emily Dickinson

Posted in Posted by Emily Dickinson

During one day, while reading  from the Bible for schoolwork, I ran across Lamentations. Not expecting anything spectacular from a book so small, I set out to read it. During the reading, I was struck by imagery so strong that I could not help but write down what I saw...and here is the result.

Lamentations of the Abandoned and Distressed

Oh, the sins. My terrible sins.
Together, so cruelly, they're
plaited and braided.
Into a rope, binding my throat,
as a royal jewel, shouting out
what I admit, what I have done.
I stand on the platform,
staring out, over the angry faces,
wondering, wondering,
Was there a way, a way to
undo,
the abhorrent things that I've done,
that I've said, that I've thought.
But no. This must be. For it
was me. Me alone, with the
Detestable One, whispering, murmering,
the words that i wanted to hear.
Where is he? He  left me to die slowly. 
But now, oh to take them back.
As they ready to make the last
blow, the crowd screams out their
hatred. The noose tightens, and I look
to the skies, black and brooding.
Then lo, a voice a lone,
glorious voice, commands softly,
from the crowd.
"I will take his place. So it
has been written, shall it be done."
They take off the rope which
so heavily lay on my cursed neck.
But I see the face, of the
One who comes near, love, pity,
and woe in His eyes. Eyes
that pierce my own.
They lay that  horrid rope of all my wrong doings
over His sweet head, guilty
of no evil, ever.
He looks up, as the skies clear,
and with His last breath, he turns
to me, love and hope come from
Him.
As I weep, I beg them "No, NO!"
But then they pull the lever,
And my Savior is dead.
   But wait and see.
   Just wait.

-Emily Dickinson

Posted in Posted by Emily Dickinson

Hello everyone. My name is Throughtheblack, or as I like to call myself, Emily Dickinson. As you can probably see, I'm new to Beginning Writers, so if you have any pointers or things that I should know as a member, that would be great.

Ah, yes. About myself....

 I like to write poetry from the 18th and 19th centuries, while my stories are usually during the present.

The story that I am currently working on takes place in the near future. The main character is a young woman named Elsie Lewis, and she is a very strong, independant girl. For this story, she needs to be. The three bests words to describe Elsie are  unconventional, caring, and extremely passionate about people and matters that she cares about. She is the one person that is so very shy and emotiona, but she tries her very best to put up a front to hide it.

The last time I had inspiration for this story was while reading The Host by Stephanie Meyer, and before that, was while reasing Quillian Games by D.J. MacHale. Also, the current happenings in our own world have sparked a flame of inspiration. It's kind of hard for me to describe where the inspiration came from. I think it's from all of the underground members of a society that they truely believe in, that they would give their lives for, to sacrifice their time to. It hit me that certain members of society may be forced to do that- live in a  secret underground society where no outsiders can know of it, or else it could mean the death of hope. It could bring around a horrible change, one of devastation.

*Laughs* I listen to all kinds of music while writing or brainstorming. Sometimes will always be like Snow Patrol, Capital Lights, and Coldplay, but sometimes I get frusterated. SO then the heavier music comes on.....

The book or movie that mostly inspired my story....*hmm*. Definitely The Quillian Games. Very good book. Not too many movies that inspired it.

I started on my story, uh, *counts on fingers* about two month ago.

I definitely think better while laying down.  All  of my thoughts some while I'm trying to sleep. Very bothersome sometimes. But other times, I'll rush down and grap my pen and write furiously.

What place inspires me most......*hmm*. You know, that's a good question. I think the old town that we live nearby. All of the history of it, it just brings so many images in my head. Pretty much any old, empty place full of history. But it figures, we don't have too many of those.

So, I'll be posting some of my poems on here, hoping to get critique and comments on it, as I am always trying to find a way to improve on my writing style. 

-Emily Dickinson