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Daisy

marguerite, daisy was walking round the streets at night. She did it partially because she couldn’t sleep, and because she loved the stars. She thought the stars were amazing, and she still admired them like a child would, even though she was twenty-four and just stuck inside a fourteen-year-old’s body.
But stargazing wasn’t why she wandered down a dark alley to find a young girl getting abused par a man just like her father. The girl’s aura was a startling bright red as she struggled to get away from him, whereas the air around him was a dull, greedy brown as he enjoyed her fear.
Daisy’s delicate little face scrunched up in disgust as she caught a glimpse of the thoughts running through the man’s head, and she decided it was time to step in.
She called out to where he stood, about two meters from her, “Leave her alone.” Her voice was still as high pitched and girly as it had been ten years ago, but the power that had been in it since she’s died made the man’s head snap upwards in shock. When he saw how young and fragile marguerite, daisy looked, he laughed loudly and dropped the girl he was abusing. Instead, he advanced on Daisy, pulling a lethal looking couteau out from his manteau pocket. Bad mistake.
She jumped on his back with such a speed that she doubted he even saw her move. Before he had any time to react, she had brought her arm down on his neck and knocked him out instantly.
Once he had fallen to the ground, marguerite, daisy hopped off his back, quickly checked he was still alive, and kicked the couteau out of his hands. She then started towards the girl that was slumped against the alley wall, staring at her with huge, terrified eyes. Her aura was shifting to a dark grey and marguerite, daisy knew how to give her the energy she needed. She gently touched the girl’s arm, and she felt the warm glow of some of her energy leaving her through her fingertips, until she had donné all she could afford.
“Go home.” marguerite, daisy a dit softly. She then smiled sadly and walked away.
As she walked around the streets for the rest of the night, she remembered what had happened to her ten, long years ago. Normally she tried not to think about it, but the sight of the man in the alley had brought it all rushing back.
Daisy’s dad had been beating her ever since his wife had left him. His little daughter looked so much like her beloved mother; he couldn’t help but take his anger out on her. marguerite, daisy had no idea what was going on so she had carried on letting him abuse her, until she jour he went too far.
It was Daisy’s fourteenth birthday when her dad came home, drunk, and battered her to death. When she’d woken up, she was inside a bin liner in the bin outside the back of their house. She had gone round to the window, where she could see her dad sat in the living room, watching TV like nothing was wrong. He had had a bière in his hand. Tears welled up in Daisy’s eyes as she remembered how she had waited ‘til her dad had fallen asleep, and then she had crept into her own house.
The first aura she ever saw was her dads, and she saw that it was a deep, dark grey. marguerite, daisy remembered accidently tapping into her dads mind, and being immensely shocked when his dreams were full of remorse and regret. She had looked into his old, tired face and had forgiven him completely.
She had walked along to her bedroom. She had looked in her huge mirror framed par fairy lights, and had been taken aback par her reflection. Her pale, freckled, heart-shaped face was un-harmed and un-bruised. Her deep blue, wide eyes had no black rings around them. Her bright auburn hair was full of life and bounced in little ringlets around her shoulders. When she allowed herself a little grin, she had seen that she had all of her teeth, and her smile was friendly and innocent.
marguerite, daisy snapped back to the present as she found a small, folded piece of paper lying on the brick mur beside her, her name marked in bold on the front. She picked it up carefully, but when she read it her mouth stretched into a happy grin, and her eyes shined with joy.
The Artist's Way and Vein of Gold's Julia Cameron on Inner Critics, reflective mirrors and poisonous playmates via www.FilmCourage.com podcast interview. plus interviews at: link
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posted by StarWarsFan7
"ALRIGHT! Class, take your seats. Science is about to begin." a dit Mrs.Labansky. She was THE strictest teacher in the district. "I hate...this, so much." I put my head on a textbook. "Cheer up, buddy." Ahh. Meghan, she was my best friend since kindergarten. After 10 secondes of science class started, I was dreaming my worst nightmare.
*** DREAM ***
"Help somebody!" I screamed. I was in space! I was so afraid of heights that I cried. Then all of a sudden, I heard a thud. *THUD* I woke up!
*** DREAM OVER ***
"Miss Quetzal! Tell me what the answer is to this problem!" she said. I thought about saying, "I don't know." But then it hit me! Literally! Something hit my head and I fell to the floor!
posted by bri-marie
So, I have this idea for a story. It's about a young girl named Marguerite. She doesn't fit in in school, is constantly bullied, and is socially awkward. Her father is emotionally abusive (when he's around) and her mother doesn't really care. Her brother committed suicide when she was twelve. To cope with all this, she's created this elaborate world in her head, filled with monsters and Heroes and true love. In this world, she's the beautiful, strong Soroya, who is surrounded par love; friends, neighbors, family, and her life-partner, the gorgeous Phan.

The part I'm posting is where I introduce...
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posted by Rozaliciousness
I was at my place; my special, secluded place in the woods where nobody would find me. I was sat on my bench, staring at the glistening snow lying on the ground all around me. The air was cold and crisp and it even hurt my nose a little to breathe in, but I was protected from it underneath my woollen hat, scarf and gloves. The trees around me with their spindly grey branches were protected too with their coats of bright white snow. Everything was white at my clearing in the woods, even the sky was almost white, light grey now that the evening was drawing closer. I liked to sit here because...
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écriture A Screenplay With A Female Protagonist par Scott Kirkpatrick via link For plus videos, please visit link
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Most Difficult Part Of Being A Writer par UCLA Professor Richard Walter via link For plus videos, please visit link
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Do Screenwriting Partners Need A Collaboration Agreement? par Michael C. Donaldson & Lisa A. Callif via linkFor plus videos, please visit link
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posted by para-scence
I couldn't move. Was this a dream?

"Aren't toi glad to see me?" my visitor asked. Honestly, I wasn't sure. My cœur, coeur beat was ringing in my ears. This couldn't be happening. How was this possible?

"Asteria?" I whispered. This was making no sense at all to me, but there she was. Same pale blond hair that we no longer shared, same preppy clothes that I secretly loathed, and same eyes; the only thing about us that was similar.

"Aren't toi glad to see me?" she asked again. Her smiled had faded, and now she honestly worried that I wasn't. I managed to put on an excited smile, and hugged her.

"Oh my God,...
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posted by Insight357
Viewing toi from across the room
toi look at me
I look at you
Unable what to do
If I speak
If I keep silent
Speak in silence

Whoa
What went wrong?
We were happy
Now we just don’t know
Without toi
I just don’t know what to do
Please guide me
To that blurring light
Tonight

With a deep breath
And no death
Maybe I will come
Without feeling numb
toi can montrer me
And I can choose
To follow
ou continue blindly

Whoa
What went wrong?
We were happy
Now we just don’t know
Without toi
I just don’t know what to do
Please guide me
To that blurring light
Tonight

Now last time
Admit your crime
That is what toi did wrong
Yet I still miss you
And all the stupid things toi do
I will wait for you
The Path Of A Screenplay Can Take A Screenwriter In Many Directions par Curtis rayon, ray at Story Expo via link For plus videos, please visit link
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