This piece was submitted for my Creative Writing coursework; graded: 68/100

For all we knew, the world was probably ending. Tensions between vampire gangs were at an all-time high, peace talks between world leaders and the newly-arrived extra-terrestrials had turned frosty and the anthropomorphic cats were now declaring war on anyone who had ever purchased repellent. If we weren’t living it, I can imagine how ridiculous that would sound. But that was all background noise right now. I was on my first date Melany.

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Stubborn Butterflies

This piece was submitted for my Creative Writing coursework; graded: 63/100

If I’ve learned anything about time travel, it’s that no-one notices when the past changes. Let’s say I went back in time to stop Hitler coming into power, do you think World War Two would have happened? Of course, it would; another far-right lunatic would come to power, dick around in Europe and spark the war. Today, we might not know who Hitler is, but the war would still have happened and much of history would stay the same. Speculative – maybe, but time has a strange way of healing itself – if ‘healing’ is the right word for it, especially when it comes to the big, traumatic events.

Even as a time traveller, some things will always happen, no matter how you try to change that. Some things, we can’t control…

Like me and Noah getting pissed as the world ends around us. That’s inevitable.

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The Immortal

(This piece was submitted for my Creative Writing coursework; graded: 72/100)

I was struck by lightning a few days before my seventeenth birthday.  It killed me quite badly.  Scorch marks, a complete shutdown of my respiratory and cardiovascular systems and my favourite shirt was ruined.

It was the hottest day of the year and our dads decided to have a picnic at the local park with me, my younger brother and sister, and our surrogate mum.  On the scale of weirdness, the subsequent storm comes second to the picnic.  We were a family under an unspoken social stigma, lacking most social skills in a social environment, so you can imagine the awkwardness.  I guess it was Dad 1’s way of dealing with that.  “No wi-fi here,” he said as he set out the sandwiches.  The rest of us exchanged a look of horror – Dad 2 included, and we promptly turned on our mobile data.  It was a far more expensive day out than any of us could have anticipated.

About an hour in, the fluffy white clouds bled to dark grey.  They hesitated for a moment as if to say, “watch this”, then unleashed heavy raindrops that stung our skin.  Dad 1 scooped everything up in the picnic blanket and we raced back to the car for shelter.  I was two–maybe three–steps away when the first bolt of lightning struck me down.  In that moment, I smelt overcooked chicken, wet dog and piss.

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A Strange Day in July

harris3(This piece was submitted for my Creative Writing coursework; graded: 70/100 with The Chair and Nature’s Angry)

He threw with all his might, but the third stone came skipping back. It leapt out of the water and rolled across the sand, stopping at his toes. Bewildered, he picked it up, weighing it in his hand as he turned to his little sister. “Wow, did you see that?” The moment he saw her face, he gasped. Of course. No one can skip a stone and make it come back. No one. But maybe Ellie could. Her eyes were glazed white like golf balls, focused – almost dead.

Her powers had taken over again.

Continue reading “A Strange Day in July”