Fiction

Most kids want to be a doctor when they grow up, or go to space, which is what my friends wanted to do. We’re all very successful con men and have billions of dollars, any person’s dream. I guess I have it all from your eyes.

My phone buzzed. Ughhhh. Probably another one of my space-obsessed friends. They're always texting me about their billionaire parents’ new inventions for space travel.

Well it's time to get working. I start off making the buns. I have this really nice homemade dough. I shape them into hamburger buns and then I put them in the oven to cook. While it is cooking I get started on making the patty.

The Heavens, A godly place surrounding the world we live in, but we don’t know if it’s true, it could all be a myth or a fairy tale that helps us fall asleep without the haunting at night knowing that our loved ones are in a better place.

The Unperfect Family

Most people want to go to space or be rich or just travel the world but me i’m only focused on one thing and one thing alone i want to eat the world's greatest cheeseburger there this wisetale that says there are ingredients to make the world's great

  The solar system was created by four goddesses. They were the goddesses of Fire, Air, Water, and Earth. There was a war and the four goddesses had to find a way to stop it. They made these weird round things (Planets).

Once upon a time, there was only darkness. Forever and ever. Never-ending darkness. It was just a shady, dull night named Balthazar. He consumed everything, leaving only the oblivion of black nothingness.

I adore my notebook and pen. I've had it ever since I was little. It was the first present I got when I could read and write.(Yes it is huge.)  One night I fell asleep while writing and my written dream had started.

  I wake up early at 5:00 A.M. it's still dark out. Full of excitement I say, "Today is Saturday and I can watch my cartoons!" I run downstairs and turn on the TV and make sure the volume is low so I don't wake up the rest of the house.

If I could keep one thing, it would be the journal my Great Grampa kept in the war. It's an old withered book, barely hanging together at the seams.

it was cold as the wind blew. it's bitter touch stinging her cheeks. it's breath uninvited  kissing her skin. She shiverd as she walked unaware of the direction she was going. Her small feet daintily dancing across the pavement.