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Literature
Aoife
I wish I could begin this  story the way I know most would see fit. With a lie.
Argue with anyone and they will tell you that lying is worse than the truth. I believe A lie can be better than the truth. We sugar coat our sins to our loved ones and portray the person we want to be rather than who we actually are.
Where exactly does a story begin? I suppose there is no real way of knowing a beginning. Perhaps your childhood lead up to this moment or a simple pot of coffee. This story perhaps would be best told the day I received her.
I was Twenty-six years at the time just a month short of my Twenty-seventh birthday. I’d been offered a job in the states and had just finished unloading the last box. Growing up on  a  small island  in Ireland  I wasn’t used to seeing skyscrapers or being trapped in tight places. this new scenery was a bit overwhelming for me.
I closed the blinds  and sat on the corner of my desk.  That’s when Etsy Samuel
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Literature
Jack Chapter Twelve
Oliver wasn’t much taller than Ben, yet the way he presented himself could make a giant take a step back. He was intimidating, and he knew it, which came in handy when dealing with rebellious delinquents such as Riot. He stared down at his three suspects, his gaze lingering longest on Ben. As a teenager, a simple glare from Oliver made the seventeen year old almost wet himself, but he wasn’t seventeen anymore. Time had gone on, and with time, Ben had changed. He wasn't the kid Oliver had found eight years ago.
Ben was the kind of person who would forget a dream right when they woke up, pee in the shower, and for some reason never remember a date to save his life. His freshman history report of  the Battle of Gettysburg in 1935 would tell you that. The only exception to this was if the memory somehow involved food. He could recount details of the food better than the actual event, but at least he could tell you something. For instance, he could remember having fried chi
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Our little family by TheGhostWritersCurse Our little family :icontheghostwriterscurse:TheGhostWritersCurse 12 2 Green vests and prom dresses by TheGhostWritersCurse Green vests and prom dresses :icontheghostwriterscurse:TheGhostWritersCurse 0 0
Literature
Shattered Chapter Four
It’s important to think about and observe your surroundings before you act. There was only one way out of this jar, and that was up.  Maybe on a good day I could jump ten feet in the air. Right now I was tired, hungry, and cold. Really cold in fact. I hadn’t noticed how much i’d been shivering until Aiden  had left.
The blanket he’d given me was made of an unusual material. The parts that had gotten wet from my Parka now dissolved and disappeared.
I tossed the blanket to the side. “Useless.” I  removed my coat. It did help a little bit, Not enough to keep me from shivering.  
I tucked my knees to my chest as I sat down. Why did he leave me in this stupid jar? Was he afraid I’d run away….Well truthfully I probably would of.
I didn’t bother to look up as I heard the door open. I could tell by the quick steps it was the boy.
He was silent. I raised my glance carefully incase my prediction had been wrong.
“You
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Saturday Morning by TheGhostWritersCurse Saturday Morning :icontheghostwriterscurse:TheGhostWritersCurse 4 5 I loved you first by TheGhostWritersCurse I loved you first :icontheghostwriterscurse:TheGhostWritersCurse 4 0
Literature
Jack Chapter 11
The pencil made quick, short strokes as it glided across the paper. When Elliot slowed down his handwriting, it was actually legible, though that was a rare occurrence for the scrawny Giant.
“That pencils going to need to come up for air sooner or later.”
Elliot didn't need to look up to know who was talking; he could see those famous golden nails out of the corner of his eye.
"Harper," he acknowledged her with a slight nod of his head, still not bothering to look up.
“Put down the pencil and look up at me a spell.”
“I don’t have time.”  He didn’t mean to be rude, but Elliot was under a lot of stress. Everyone expected him to know everything - every possible outcome, to every situation. Elliot was a genius; he’d gladly admit that to anyone, but even his brain had its limits (something he wouldn’t willingly admit to anyone). With the humans, Elliot needed to know everything, it seemed: diseases, allergies, mental stability
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Literature
Feral child
There comes a time in your life where you realize you’re going to die one day. It might  happen when you’re alone in your room looking up at the stars, or perhaps when you’re with your friends at a bar laughing and having a good time. You distance yourself a second wondering if Heaven (or whatever you believe in) will be like this.  With the question of when we die we also have the question of How.
Well most of us.
David Wickett always knew he’d die under the Oak tree.
He cocked back the gun examining the long  double barrelled beauty.  It was the same gun his father had used under this same exact tree. David wasn’t one for following rituals he’d just always loved this oak tree.
The Oak tree his father and him had planted when he was a boy. The Oak  tree where he’d met Abby, where he’d proposed to her, where he found out he was going to be a father.
It was the same tree where he  would sit at with his son, We
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Literature
Jack Chapter 10
The reality of if a God existed - or if a God didn’t exist - had never crossed Morgan’s mind. He’d never been one to go to church or pray, then again, he wasn’t one to reject possibility of a superior being; the matter of religion was always neutral in his mind.
Morgan had just woken up to a bright light shining in his face, could this be it, was he Dead?
“G-god?” He could just make out the figure standing above him as the light loomed closer and closer he squinted more.
Suddenly, the bright light in his vision was gone, and he was left with two giant brown eyes looming down at him. Beautiful, yet intimidating nonetheless.
Morgan Jumped back cursing some rather unappealing words. The sudden memory of the day before began trickling back in his mind.
“Oh good you’re awake” It was the female giants voice, the one who had poked him in the back earlier.  
I’m only Twenty-Five i’m too young for a mental break down. Morgan
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Shock by TheGhostWritersCurse Shock :icontheghostwriterscurse:TheGhostWritersCurse 5 0
Literature
Shattered Chapter Three
“Snow globe? W-what’s a snow globe.”  I wiped my eyes with my sleeve trying to calm myself
“It’s a glass ball filled with water and….” The boy stopped He must of noticed my confused glance. “Um…. hold on.” He reached in his pocket pulling out a strange rectangular box.
“What’s that?”
“It’s called a cell phone.” Aiden said.
He began to tap at the screen with the other finger.
I watched fascinated as the small box began to glow with every tap the boy made.
“Are you using Magic?”
“Technology”  Aiden corrected.
“What’s technology.”
“It’s...uh… let’s just call it scientific magic.” He flipped the rectangle around  to face me.
“How did you draw those so quickly?”
“I didn’t draw them. I looked them up on google.”
“Google?”
“I’ll explain later.” The boy &
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Literature
Shattered Chapter Two
“What was that noise?”
“Nothing,Mom” The giant’s fingers tapped at the jar. “Just catching a little bug is all.”
I covered my ears. The Giant looked down seeming amused at this response. He let his fingers give one last tap before ceasing.
“Now let's have a look at you.” His next few movements were quick.  
Tip. Flip.Raise.
He didn’t say anything as he brought the Jar towards his face turning it around steady and slowly. Analyzing every possible detail there was to see about me. There wasn’t much to see. 6 inch tall girl in a bottle. 80 foot tall giant outside.  
“So lifelike.” He leaned in closer  “But you can’t be real I mean it’s imposs--” The giant paused. Something seemed to of caught his eye. As He studied once again. This time his focus was on my face. More importantly the eyes.
“Are those T-tears?” He whispered.  
Was I crying? I touched my cheek
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Literature
Shattered Chapter One
"You'd be wise not to go any further."His warning still echoes in my head.
I didn't give much thought to the warning when I first heard it. He was an old man in our village crippled and bent. Half blind and half mad. Often times he would be seen mumbling to himself.
"Beware the waters of Nova. For when the Midnight comes, the beasts that dwell below will come. Down you'll go, up you'll go, what you thought you knew now you don't, things are different now. The beast is upon you. Run"
The waters of Nova referred to the Lake Nova. The lake that split the borders between our self and the village Mystic.
It was a common form of travel and transportation taking into account that to walk around to the other side was a three day journey. Most of the Villagers, myself included learned over time to ignore the old man’s warning.
I gave a slight smile at the old man. I wasn’t rude enough not to acknowledge his presence but I wasn’t dumb enough to take a three  day  jour
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Finch and Jack The Calloway Brothers by TheGhostWritersCurse Finch and Jack The Calloway Brothers :icontheghostwriterscurse:TheGhostWritersCurse 0 2 Ben And Elijah (Old edit) by TheGhostWritersCurse Ben And Elijah (Old edit) :icontheghostwriterscurse:TheGhostWritersCurse 0 3

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I wish I could begin this  story the way I know most would see fit. With a lie.
Argue with anyone and they will tell you that lying is worse than the truth. I believe A lie can be better than the truth. We sugar coat our sins to our loved ones and portray the person we want to be rather than who we actually are.

Where exactly does a story begin? I suppose there is no real way of knowing a beginning. Perhaps your childhood lead up to this moment or a simple pot of coffee. This story perhaps would be best told the day I received her.

I was Twenty-six years at the time just a month short of my Twenty-seventh birthday. I’d been offered a job in the states and had just finished unloading the last box. Growing up on  a  small island  in Ireland  I wasn’t used to seeing skyscrapers or being trapped in tight places. this new scenery was a bit overwhelming for me.

I closed the blinds  and sat on the corner of my desk.  That’s when Etsy Samuel came in.

Samuel was the one who had convinced me to move down here. He wasn’t exactly a friend. I’d say more of a businessman.

“Ridley” He saluted as he closed the door behind him. He had in his hands an old shoe box.

“Samuel.” I gave him a head nod.

“How’re you adjusting to the city.” His hand tapped at the shoe box.

“I’m not.” I admitted.

“That’s great.” Samuel made himself at home. Feet on table butt in chair.  “Listen Rid, I normally don’t do this kind of thing.” He thumped the box again. “But I uh… I figured you needed some company.” He held the box out to me now.

“I’m allergic to fur.”

“I know.” He sat the box down and slid it to me.

I took the box setting it on my lap. “Too light to be whisky.” I frowned.

Samuel leaned back in the chair seeming amused. I took the corners of the box lifting it up.

“JESUS--” I don’t know how I didn’t jump back but I hadn’t expected this.
Samuel cackled throwing his head back. “What the hell am I supposed to do with this?”

In the box stood a human. Five inches tall, Loose ringlets of light ginger hair and from what I could see Green eyes.

“It’s a wee leprechaun for you.” He chuckled.

I looked down at the human.  I wish I could tell you that a feeling of sorrow hit me when I saw the girl. But humans to me where no more than a rat or a bird. I’d grown up with a pet human as a boy. My friends had pet humans. Culture had taught me to be superior to these creatures.

“I can’t take her.” I tried to shove the box back.

Samuel held a hand up. “Nonsense just give her a few days.”

“What if my apartment doesn’t allow pets--”

“Than she can sleep here.” He stood up popping his neck as he did so.

“I don’t want--”

“Goodbye.” Samuel made for a quick jog to the door before I could say anything.

I sighed setting the box down.

“Well now what do I call you?” I crossed my arms over my chest.

“Ginger--”

“Aoife.” She interrupted.

“I don’t like the sound of that--”

“My. Name. Is. Aoife.”

I had to admit I was surprised the human had decided to speak so suddenly. Despite her looks the young woman had a strong voice. Most humans kept quiet.

“Aoife.” I repeated back “That’s Irish.”

The human stood up  the walls around too big for her to scale. “I suppose you’re going to give me a list of things that make you more superior to me now.” She said carelessly. “And if I don’t listen to you. You’ll try to threaten me with your height.” Aoife raised an eyebrow. “Now is it Master or My  king. “

“Uh…” I scratched my head. I’d never been with a human so upfront before.

“Close your mouth Captain Nemo, I don’t want drool in my box.”

“Watch how you talk to me, Bitsy--”

She closed her mouth though It wasn’t hard to see She didn’t so much as flinch.  

“Kian Ridley.”

“You want me to call you by your full name?”

“Just call me, Kian.”

“Kian.” Aoife repeated.  

I slid over to my chair slumping down as I held the box she shifted with the weight somehow managing to stay on her feet.

“Look why don’t we make a deal, Kian” she said sweetly as she paced around the box.

I raised a brow in amusement. “By your tone of voice we both know I’ll be nothing more than a burden to you.” She gave a fake frown. “I mean you’ve just moved here and to feed another mouth well that’s just rude.”

I smiled back catching on to her plan. “Don’t tell me. You want me to leave the box here ‘accidentally.’ and come back to find you’ve vanished.”

“That’s one way of putting it. I’d be out of your hair and you’d be out of mine.”

I hooked the girl around my finger. “Now now.” I said in a parent like tone. “You’re not a burden to me.” I lifted her eye level. “In Fact you intrigue me little one.”
Aoife
An old story I found in my folder I'm not sure what my plan was but I like were I was headed. Should I keep going ;) ?
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Mom: * has foot amputated*

Me: "Hey full metal!"

I do not cope with trauma well! #worstdaughter #animietrash
So today I was doing an RP with someone and I thought it was going amazing.  Characters clicked, plot worked, Development was underway. Now here is the catch. We were Role playing on this weird app on our phones and it just so turns out I was getting notifications from another chat of his. Where he was telling his friend how much pathetic my character was and how this whole RP was a huge joke to him.

Character development is important to me and I make it known to people I RP with to tell me if they think the character is being too much of a Perfect Sally. If you have a problem with a character tell me why and I'll 99.9% of the time  negotiate and try to make the character work with the situation.

 TELL ME WHAT I'M DOING WRONG, TELL ME WHAT YOU LIKE, TELL ME WHAT I COULD DO DIFFERENT!


In other news I'm on my period and highly sensitive and after that message I feel like I'm actually a really shitty writer and I'd like to say in advance I'm so sorry for wasting your guys time with my writing. I was scared to post on here because I was afraid I was a bad writer. Guess my fears were right :(
Apparently I joined Deviant Art on New Years Day. January 1st. One year. Does this mean it's my magic anniversary ? Any who thank you everyone for the support and kindness. I'm so excited for this year. I have a ton of story ideas lined up and i'm hopeful you'll like them. thanks everyone for the inspiration. HAPPY NEW YEAR!

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TheGhostWritersCurse
Charlie
Antarctica
I made this at 3:26 am so will see if I actually use this account or not....
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Of course! Thank you for the talent
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