Creative writing #3: conflict

Creative writing #3

Today I have a piece of creative writing, and the piece is one which involves conflict. So here it goes.

As Landon sat staring at the expulsion papers on his kitchen table, the blankness of his mind almost drowned out his mothers’ sharp words.

It was one week after the exam results and Landon had gotten a glowing mark of (75 on his science exam. This had stunned not only himself, but his peers and his dean and his family, as they all knew of his reputation. Science was hard, his mark before the exam remained at 61% through the whole year. He had studied hard hoping for something better but was still not confident. It looked like things paid off.  Landon found out when he was called into the dean’s office that he had been caught cheating, someone had evidence against him and a search ended in his result of 0% on the exam and a letter of expulsion from the dean.

“Landon, you know you didn’t have a glowing record with your dean, with the bad grades and skipping class. I really thought you had turned it around.” His father said, cutting into his mothers rant. His expression made him look 67 instead of 47, his sad eyes swimming with disappointment. No one believed his side of the story that he didn’t cheat. His best friend Mark had turned on him and his girlfriend, always the supportive one, had left his side as well. He looked at his father trying to communicate by a glance, his mother still talking. Her words flooded the room piercing his listening ears. Down the halls his parents had hung his dismal and minimal achievements. Now they seemed cheat and undeserved.  He moistened his lips, preparing to speak. “Mom,” her said cautiously, his mother spinning around and glared at him. “I didn’t cheat, someone’s lying and it’s not me.” With those words though his mother just laughed at him, grabbed her keys off the hook and walked out of the house, started her car and drove out of the driveway. It appeared she wouldn’t be back for a while and neither Landon or his father having anything to say.

Creative Writing #2

Creative writing #2

So this week we were assigned to do a creative writing, short story on a character we made up. So this is mine. Sorry for the length of it, I got carried away in writing.

The cool morning air was soothing against Lucy’s sweaty body, the end of her morning marathon training coming to the final street. The sun was just beginning to rise and a pool of purple and yellow spilled into the morning sky. The calmness of the morning didn’t reflect at all to the anger which had wound up inside of her after the events which took place the night before. It had gone something like the calm before the storm, soothing and then an explosion of words and hand gestures with her family. As she went through what happened, a scowl appeared on her face and she slowed down to a walk and sat down on a park bench, green and not at all comfortable but it would have to do the job.  She closed her green eyes, the long brown curls escaping from her ponytail.  The images flashed through her mind again and revisited what had happened.

                She had driven up in her muddy jeep to her house, the May evening bringing a welcomed warm breeze. The people of the Calgary sub burbs settling down for the evening. As Lucy rested her head against the seat she wondered what college pamphlets would be sitting in her quiet bedroom this time. Her mother had taken to finding whatever she could on different school they could afford, they were well off but they wanted the best they could give her. Even though she was graduating this year with her average marks, she still had a long way to go. Kind of a loner, her mother was hoping that when she turned 18 this summer she would break out of her shell and be ready to face the world. Although Lucy still hadn’t decided if she wanted to go to college yet. Nothing was ever certain for her and it drove her parents crazy. They wanted her to have everything set for the future like her brothers but she wasn’t them. She had a steady job at the daycare and her dog Charlie, had just gotten back from the vets, having stepped on a sharp rock days before and ways limping quite a bit. Her father would be home and would surely be in the kitchen trying to master some new dish he saw n food network. The smell of something exotic always welcomed her. He was always the one to make the meals as her mother had trouble even boiling water.  

Lucy rolled up her jeans one last time, straightened her top which had gotten wrinkled against the seat and pushed open the screen door. What welcomed her was silence. There was nothing on the stove, the sound of her brother’s music and TV not coming from the upstairs or downstairs of their home. As she rounded the corner into the living room, a country feel which always reminded her of her grandfather’s comforting old farm, held her family, waiting for her with serious expressions on their faces. As soon as she saw what was going on she knew the oncoming battle of school was about to approach.

                She got up from the park bench and continued down the quiet street, kicking a rock along. Hopefully she would be able to get in a hour more of sleep before she would have to face the day again.

Creative writing #1

This week we started our creative writing, and our first assignment was to write a paragraph describing our bedroom. All through the week we were working bit by bit on our creative writing and this is my finished product.

My room:

When you first walk into my room you will notice a couple of things automatically. One, it is always very bright. The far wall in my room faces the backyard and has a large window on it, sunlight streaming in through the curtain-less frame. The light coloured but cheerful walls are also key in the lighting factor because they are very light in colour. The left wall is a light purple and the other three walls are a pale minty green. The window wall is this minty green colour, so is the closet on the right hand side of my room. The closet doesn’t have doors on it and has shirts and dresses hanging over a small plastic dresser. Beside the dresser, a small blue suitcase and other bags.

The second thing you realize about my room is the size. It is a small square room but it is quite open. My bed is in the far left corner. It is on the ground and it is very soft, with a couple of plush pillows at the headboard. The comforter cover and well as the sheets are green, vibrant and a good contrast to the pale walls. When you walk in, to the instant left is a two by four shelving bucket unit, from the terrific store IKEA. It is sleek, a dark brown wood, smooth to the touch. It is two squares up and four across, with clothing occupying the bottom four squares. The top four hold books, hair and makeup products and other miscellaneous items. It comes up to my waist.

Something else noticeable to my room is the smell. The freshly painted walls give off a feeling of starting new. The smell of sweetness is also in the air, from the perfume sprayed in the air from the morning.

My room is quite private and my sisters know not to go in my room as a matter of respect, though it isn’t very quiet. My door is a little short, sound streaming in from underneath it, noises from the living room and kitchen fill the air. The walls aren’t thin though and the wall facing the outside provides a coolness for these warm spring days.

My room is a place to hang out after a long day and it is usually the place I retreat with my friends when they come over. Having a space of my own is good in a small house with two loud sisters and the soft feel of it provides a feeling of calmness.  The clothes strewn on the floor in the corner are a reminder that not everything needs to be perfect.

So this is my room, and thought it may be little, it’s my own space I have to myself without worrying about having to share, and that’s a pretty good deal in a house full of girls.