Tag Archive | High School Writing

The Perfect Couple: A Complete Short Story

I am sick. Yes, very sick. My psychological problems go well beyond any normal adolescent developmental problems or troubles. I doubt my condition could even be classified by any therapist. I fondly refer to it as the Unconditional Love Disorder. I think it started the moment I read my first cheesy romance novel, at age seven. Ever since I have been totally obsessed with finding unconditional love, someone who would do absolutely anything for me.

Ironically, I have been in some of the worst relationships ever, even though my standards are so demanding. My first boyfriend, Charley, after two months, told me he had to leave me to find his inner self. I’m not stupid, though. I knew he really just wanted to spend more time with his “cult,” whose only purpose was to play Dungeons and Dragons day in and day out. I wonder if that can even really be called a cult, probably not.

Continue reading The Perfect Couple

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This one’s from my senior year of high school. It was my first attempt at writing a satirical story. I knew so many girls (myself included at times) who were so over the top melodramatic when it came to love and boyfriends and I wanted to take it to a whole new level to sort of poke some fun.

Angie suffers from UCS, Unconditional Love Syndrome, a mental fixation on love and romance beyond any normal teenager’s. When she expresses concerns to her best friend, Jade, a science geek who wants to perform Frankenstein experiments on frogs, about her new boyfriend’s loyalty, Jade concocts a contraption and a scheme for Angie to test her new guy’s devotion.

As always, for more writing samples, you can always check out the Samples page. There’s also a section for Published and Early Work (most of this latter section is downright mortifying, but you know, oh well).

~Emilia J

Josie – Sunshower Chapter Four

May10

To start this book from the beginning, click here.

“Josie, talk to me. What’s going on?”

“What do you mean?” I asked. Ray Ann and I were unpacking in our room, after a late lunch and a morning in the control room. I took a shirt from my bag, folded it and then placed it in the open drawer in front of me.

“Don’t you think you were a little cruel to Arden before?”

“You heard that?”

“Yeah. I could be mistaken, but I think the guy was trying to be nice to you.”

“Well, I don’t want to be nice to him.”

“Why? Is there something he did that you haven’t told me about?”

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Violets are Blue: A Complete Short Story

Apr19

I awake from a dream and look around me. I’m in my backyard. Sunset has come and gone. The sky is getting darker as each new moment passes. I yawn and stretch my arms, and surprisingly I don’t feel at all tired. I don’t know how long ago I fell asleep. It feels it could have been hours. I feel refreshed as I never have before.

I reach beside me and pick a violet. They are my favorite type of flower. Maybe I feel some likeness to the flower. They aren’t blue as the saying goes, but a beautiful shade of purple. I, too, feel I am often misjudged. I’m seen to all as a plain and simple girl, which isn’t even close to the truth. I put the flower to my nose and sniff it. Violets don’t really smell like much, but I smell it anyway. Instantly I’m overwhelmed with a wave of exhaustion. I lay my head down on the grass, holding the violet close to my heart. Soon I am asleep.

The dream continues. Or it returns. I do not know which, but I know the dream is not new.

Continue Reading –>

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I wrote this story as a junior in high school, and it won first place in my school’s short story contest that year. It was partly inspired by the cover of Alice in Chains’ Dirt CD.

Check out the Samples Page, as well as Published and Early Work, to read more of my writing!

~Emilia J

Summer of Dreams – Prologue

Apr5

Note: This was written when I was sixteen. Cringe cringe wince.

“You can never ever leave without leaving a piece of youth.”

When I look back on this summer I get this heartsick feeling, this desire to make sure that I’ll always remember it all. There’s no way I could let it become another half-forgotten memory swirling around my head with the millions of others. Writing this brings smiles to my face and tears to my eyes. No matter what, though, I’ll record all of it. I couldn’t bear to let all the events, memories and dreams just fade away.

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The Happiest Place on Earth: A Complete Short Story

Mar29

Finally our captain set his sights on somewhere we might land. We had been cruising the universe for over a year now and were running out of fuel and supplies quickly.

“I don’t want anyone to get their hopes up yet,” Captain Delar announced to the ship. “The planet we are coming across is surrounded by a strong forcefield of gasses that we cannot yet identify at this altitude. We also cannot yet determine the resources of this world. There seems to be water and plant-life, but something appears to be smothering it. We have located one clear, warm spot to land our small ship. Descent will begin in five minutes and will take almost an hour. We are proceeding slowly due to the fact that we are not familiar with this new territory.”

An hour! To think of it, after endlessly speeding through space for 15 months, just blew my mind! It was almost too good to believe. My hopes were soaring despite my captain’s words.

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Josie – Sunshower Chapter Three

Mar22

To start this book from the beginning, click here.

The day to leave Earth had finally arrived! I awoke earlier than I had set the alarm for. I was bursting with excitement and energy. I could barely contain myself, but I knew I had to be quiet so that I didn’t wake my mother or Allan.

I had written them both notes. The one for my mother was short and to the point. I told her where I was going, with whom I was going, and when I thought I’d return. I told her not to worry about me. In Allan’s note I wrote about how I was going to far-off exotic lands on an adventure to meet some aliens. I apologized for not being able to take him along and promised to tell him all about my exciting venture as soon as I returned. His letter was longer.

I tiptoed out of my room and softly made my way to their rooms, leaving the appropriate note at the door to each. I then returned to my room to make sure I hadn’t forgotten anything. I had packed more clothes than I could possibly need, but never thought to discard anything. I had always overpacked when I’d gone to see my Aunt Hilda or to visit colleges, the only trips I’d ever taken. I threw my journal in the bag too, so I could record my adventures, and keep it from prying eyes at the same time. I had also brought along all the essentials-a hairbrush, deodorant, perfume, toothbrush and toothpaste, soap and a set of towels. I wanted to be able to look nice in case I met any sexy aliens, or if Arden ever changed his mind. The latter was the preferable possibility, but also more unlikely.

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Affinity for Darkness – Epilogue

Mar1

The funerals for Andrea Jennings, Don Krenshaw, Justin Ryan, Jill Oberlin, Karl Muffen and Eve Clemens were held the Sunday after they were supposed to return home from a trip to Justin’s cabin in upstate New York. Andrea’s parents had returned only one day earlier to hear the terrible news of the fire in the cabin, and the tragic death of their daughter.

There were many attendants to the sad event. It had been so terrible. A fire had started in the cabin and Justin Ryan had called the police. By the time they got there, there was not much left of the cabin, and fire was spreading. They had been able to put out the fire, but no survivors could be found. Police had no idea how the fire had started.

Among the attendants was Miss Carol Bennett, a local English teacher. She was crying, she had had almost all of those kids in her classes. They were great students. They had wonderful imaginations. She was so sad to hear of their tragic end.

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Affinity for Darkness – Chapter Thirteen

Feb22

The candles beside me still burn, the guiding lights of my tale. I feel some relief in having written all of it down, but my relief is shallow. My story is not yet complete, and I don’t quite know how it will end.

I have spent hours writing. It has grown dark outside. These hours I probably should have spent figuring out what has happened, analyzing each event of this past week, but I find no answers doing this; I find more contentment in my writing than I could discovering how I would die. It makes me feel as if I have done something productive with my time.

As I said at the very start, I know great fear. As I sit here in anxiety, my fear is really all I know. The darkness contributes to my fear, I know. It adds a sense of mystery; I don’t know what, or who, may be lurking in the shadows. I don’t know where Justin is.

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Affinity for Darkness – Chapter Twelve

Feb15

I woke up shaking. The images I had seen had been harrowing. I tried to wash them away by rubbing my eyes. It did not completely work, but at least the horrid smells and tortured cries had subsided. Suddenly I realized there were people standing near me. I opened my eyes fully to see Justin and Jill peering down at me, and to see that I was lying on one of the couches. Oh no, I thought. Were they waiting for me to awaken so they could break some more bad news?

“What’s wrong?” I asked, instantly worried. “Is everyone OK?”

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Affinity for Darkness – Chapter Eleven

Feb8

Here’s the next section from the “novel” I wrote one winter in high school. It’s now at the part where it’s getting really mortifying and difficult to post.

To start this story from the beginning, click here

“Oh God,” Jill moaned.

“What!?!” Karl exclaimed, shocked.

“Not again,” I breathed.

“What do we do?” Karl asked.

“We just can’t have another burial,” Jill said.

“How did it happen?” I inquired.

“I don’t know,” Justin answered, distraught. “I just went in there and saw him, slumped against the far wall, bleeding. At first I thought he cut himself, so I called his name and asked if he was OK. No answer came, so I moved closer to get a better sense of what was going on. It was then that I noticed his glazed eyes and the small pools of blood surrounding his body. And his skin . . . his skin was disgusting. He died from a knife wound, as Eve did.”

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