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Write a story using only 500 characters (to the right)
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Six-Word Stories

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"--forget who you--" "i already did."Mon, 11/20/2017 - 2:07am
"can i trust her?" "i guess."Mon, 11/20/2017 - 2:06am
fear choked her like a noose.Mon, 11/20/2017 - 2:04am
"love isn't real, remember that please."Mon, 11/20/2017 - 2:02am
"i was always the bad guy"Mon, 11/20/2017 - 2:01am
deep snow in driveway, im stuckFri, 11/17/2017 - 9:58am
blah blah blah blah blah blahFri, 11/17/2017 - 9:53am
There is snow on the ground.Fri, 11/17/2017 - 9:48am
All I knew was her, loveFri, 11/17/2017 - 9:44am
just friends but I love her Fri, 11/17/2017 - 9:40am
going fast down the hill...,ouch!Thu, 11/16/2017 - 1:14pm
like a deer in the hedlightsThu, 11/16/2017 - 1:12pm
"will you..." please tell me nowWed, 11/15/2017 - 8:26pm
Now push me to the edgeWed, 11/15/2017 - 8:25pm
Quiet. Dark. The memories come back..Sun, 11/12/2017 - 10:45pm
He loved you.. then he left..Sun, 11/12/2017 - 10:44pm
I've finally moved on from him...Sun, 11/12/2017 - 10:43pm
Forgiving and forgetting isn't that easyTue, 11/07/2017 - 9:40am
But it was only a memory.Tue, 11/07/2017 - 9:38am
Danced on a star. Feet burned.Sun, 11/05/2017 - 8:09pm
falling into the quickly moving dreamFri, 11/03/2017 - 7:07am
The music slowly washes over meWed, 11/01/2017 - 6:25pm
Silence is calming. Silence is shattering.Tue, 10/31/2017 - 9:30pm
No longer do I know myself.Tue, 10/31/2017 - 9:24pm
I feel like no one understands.Tue, 10/24/2017 - 8:32am

A story in 500 Characters

i woke up this morning and i realized something, i was evil. not in a "i'm going to lead you back to my candy house" sort of way, but rather the way i treat people. i am not a trustworthy person, once a one thing came through my ear, it came out my mouth. i poured my heart and soul into making myself as mysterious and seclusive as possible. completely shutting out all outlets. i demanded respect for my own privacy, but i lacked mutual respect for anyone else. that made me the worst sort of evil.
He walked up to me and grabbed my hand. I look up and see his crooked smile.I smile back. It went on for what seemed like forever. Us, just standing there, hand in hand, smiling.We both knew we had to get to class, but neither of us wanted to stop the moment.I could feel everything around me going on, but it didn't matter. He was here, holding my hand, his smile. We were together again. He was here and I was here and we were us.That's what I thought. At last, it was only a memory of us together.
I sometimes wonder about whether to believe in evil or not. Most evil things come from greed and ambition. Evil is not really a quality of the antagonist or 'bad guy' in the story, rather a word for the greedy or not smart things the bad guy actually does. Maybe evil is like the aftereffect of sadness, anger, or loneliness. I sometimes feel sorry for someone evil because they always have a motive and it isn't necessarily bad. Or maybe I'm all wrong. It would be cool to write a story about evil.
Gender is a construct. Let's tear it apart.
Gender roles are just your imagination
the thing is, nobody knows what it's like to be me. nobody knows why i am who i am. nobody knows how i deal with myself. nobody relates to my love of writing. everybody judges me for my attitude, for my face, for my decisions. nobody knows who is beneath the surface. i really don't understand why everyone hates each other. i don't understand why we talk behind each other's backs, why we judge others for the simplest of things. writing is my escape to the world where no one judges, we just love.
After all that you had done to me, why did I still put up with you? Why did I still condone your mistakes even though I knew they were not all right? Why did I still stick around when you broke my heart for the second time? Why did I decide to forgive you even though you obviously did not deserve it? All I can think of are the moments of pain, all those nights I spent crying myself to sleep because you had shattered my soul. I'm done. I feel the cold of the knife against my wrist. I'm done. Bye.
I beat myself up inside for thinking about it. Thinking about you. Thinking about the pain and the struggles you had left me in, but then I remembered how I built myself up after you left, how I picked MYSELF up from the dust when nobody was there, How I slowly rebuild my happy, picked up the pieces of my heart that had shattered like glass, and suddenly I realized that I didn't miss you anymore. I just missed the light in my life that is now dark.
Cotton candy clouds blew across the sky. Bees flew lazy circles above their hive before flying off aware of their surroundings. I followed. Radio waves emitted off large nests owned by larger beings that seemed to be able to bend the world to their liking. These were terrifying giants that occasionally attacked our nest. I have personally never seen them do it, but the elders has, the queen has... not that I have met the queen. The leaves chucked to themselves as a strong breeze whipped the air.
Doubt and worry and fear crept in unannounced on the old house in the woods, up through the cracks in the floorboards, around the window sills, reaching the girl in sleep, the noises plundering her dreams of dragons and now monsters. She awoke, sure she had heard something, a noise of someone or some thing that shouldn't be there. She wasn't dreaming after all.
What does happen to you when you die.Nobody knows,when we have been bad during our lives do we go to the underworld and we have been nice during our lives do we go to heaven?Is there an afterlife do go back to earth and live after thousands of years?But we don't know and i think that its a good thing because,what would happen if we knew what happens after we die.Everybody please think about that.THE END
Guess what. I know what happens when we die. And no we do not go to heaven, the underworld, or some other mysterious place. The weird thing is though I don't know what happens to you. That might sound weird since I just told you that I know what happens to us when we die. Or at least I know what happens to me when I die. I won't tell you what happens to me though, and I don't know what happens to you when you die. But what I do know is that once you die, you get to go wherever you want to go.
And just like that, you were gone. Never to come back. Never to make me laugh again. You maybe burning in the depths of hell, but I hope with all my heart you went the other way. You were a good person at heart. You and I both knew it. You just didn't always show it. Never to go on our long evening walks. Never to make everything okay again. You will always be in my heart, but I yearn for you more than anything, to be in my life again. For you to show everyone who you really are. Never again.
They will not stop me. They can torture me and kill me and take every belonging I have in this world but there is one thing that will always be mine, I have one advantage which they will never discover and that is hope, because for it I will climb to the sky and find god himself, I will move everything from my path until I will find you again. My love for you cannot be stopped, it will not die or break because you are mine and I am yours and if I have to prove it to you in another life I will.
And suddenly I felt the blood rush out of my face as you whispered the truth to me. I felt the tears well in my eyes and when you asked for a hug I couldn't believe your request. Reluctantly I stood up and for the last time, I felt your strong arms wrap themselves around me. I was transported back to the past when I first realized I had loved you. And instead here I was watching you leave, watching you turn around and drive away for the last time.
"I'm sorry I wasn't there when you needed me."
The wind rushed over the hill as I stared at you. A beautiful you, a lush, life-filled you. Before you died. Before your body turned to ash, leaving me to stare at your grave among a bunch of almost-identical rocks, buried in the living stems and leaves of spearmint. Before you turned into a shining little sprite of a spirit, that showed up in one of our pictures. Your ghost was right in front of me. You looked just like you where when I was a baby: strong and healthy. A strong and healthy cat.
Why are Young Adult books always watered-down adult books? It's like the authors weren’t good enough to write for adults so they just aimed for the slightly younger, probably dumber age group. Voila! Dramatic/clichéd/unedited "books" being published anyway.
Please write from the perspective of a fourteen-year-old adult dealing with the dumbness of puberty and teachers and kids.
Teenagers are human individuals with thoughts and emotions. Not, as many seem to think, whiny, self-obsessed robots.
I admire this. It is quite funny, but unfortunately, true.
07/26/2017 - 11:33am
We're sitting on the boardwalk, our feet dangling off the edge but not quite touching the water.
"I'm going to miss you." I feel tears well up in my eyes as I say it.
He sees my face, and bumps my shoulder with his. "I'm going to miss you too."
Instead of saying more, we just sit together, the crickets and frogs singing songs to each other as the day turns to night. He takes my hand, and we are the only two people in the world. Just us and the crickets and frogs. (Maybe the fish too)
Oh my goodness, this 500 character story is so sweet. The tone you have just matches the bittersweet moment you have depicted. Plus, the details about the crickets, the frogs, and the fish just really round out the scene and make it feel complete, and very summer-like. I loved this. —GS, Intern
07/12/2017 - 12:15pm
I LOVE THIS SO MUCH. I cannot agree with Grace more that the tone matches the bittersweet moment. You had my heart hung up on this. I know shoulder bumps like that and so that line just scooped me up out of life and onto the boardwalk in the seat of your speaker. GAHHHH I'll make a fool of myself if I keep elaborating on how much I love this. - Janet, Intern
07/20/2017 - 7:20pm
I used to believe in fairies and magic and all that little kid stuff. I convinced myself I was a unicorn-fairy-princess. (I used to dress up as one for Halloween. People always thought I was just wearing an old dance costume.) (They were right.) I guess it all changed when I hit middle school, and I realized that the world wasn't as magical as I thought it was. That's when I kind of fell apart. I wouldn't blame my friends, or what happened, or even myself. I would blame unicorns for it all.
People on occasion do naughty things. Smuggling. "Oh, Rite-Aid won't know," that's what they will say. Dad said to listen to that feeling he knew I had when I was given a smuggled gift. It's funny, normally I would have that kind of feeling. I didn't. I graciously accepted my new shiny stolen gift. Dad told me to talk to her, as the mature younger sister. On any other occasion I would have put that "sense" to good use. I didn't, because I didn't want to. Isn't it strange, the thrill of a heist.
There's so much going on here. Where to start? I love the incongruous elements: the "mature younger sister," and the gracious accepting of the "shiny stolen gift." I feel so off-kilter when I read this -- the same way that you are off-kilter in this piece, the way you don't get that "feeling," that common sense, that grounding that your Dad is hoping for. Sorry, Dad, not this time.The thrill of the heist is too powerful. It has a hold on you. And wow, are you convincing! Thanks for this head-spinning experience!
06/27/2017 - 4:32pm