I have had this book idea for about 3 months or more and I struggle every day trying to expand on it. (One of the reasons I haven’t been blogging. I’ve been writing elsewhere.). Tonight, I was able to break through the stone walls of writers block and surf the rainbow of imagination. I am only in pre-writing stages, but I plan to make it a short story. So, with that in mind, you can help. I am looking for first and last names that are french in origin. Comment your suggestions if you wish to help a fellow writer! Au revoir!
If you have been following me, you will notice that I changed my site name from “The Invisible Child” to “Siren’s Call”. Some may be wondering “why?”
First, it is important to know that I am struggling with alot in my life right now, which was the sole purpose for this blog. Though I hoped their was someone out there who would read what I had to say, I just needed to write it.
“The invisible child” represented only that dark side of me so I never felt like I was able to write anything else. Though, I write better when I am wrought with pain, I do have other ideas and thoughts to share. “Siren’s Call” will represent everything I need to say or want to say and the title is just as it says. It is a call for a listener. I hope those who follow me will continue to and I hope those who are reading this for the first time will enjoy what they are in for. Take care, everyone.
Waste the innocent
Feasting on their scarlet blood
She pulled the shaven wooden stake from her chest and smiled.
“Was that supposed to hurt?”
With her supernatural strength, she crushed the robust stake as if it was a tiny twig. The daughter of the legendary hunter prepared her second offensive attack. As scared as she was, she held up her crossbow and aimed it at the creature that murdered her father. The red hot anger fired through her as she set the trigger and fired with no hesitation. Beads of sweat broke out across her forehead, as the creature’s frosty breath trailed down the back of the assailant’s neck.
“ You may have the fire in your eyes, but it can never melt the ice in my veins.”
~SirenCay with help from contributor/Editor Satoshi
Satoshi is the editor behind all my blog posts. She is a college graduate with a bachelor’s degree in English, and is a great writer in her own right. If you have any questions, or want to see more work from here, let me know!
“You forgot me”
Raelynne sighed as tears began to grace her face.
“It was an accident, ” her mother tried to assure her.
She turned her back to her mother, and shook her head wearily. As she walked up to her room, she whispered softly to herself, “I don’t believe you”.
Raelynne flopped face first into her pillows and sheets as the stream of tears broke through the damn that was her eyes.
She lay silently, closed off from the rest of the world as she wondered,
“Am I invisible?”
I first knew things were amiss when boys began to take priority over barbies. The day she replaced her posters of Dora with boy bands was a real hardship for me. I did not appreciate school teaching her that animals are unable to speak. Why can’t a purple talking unicorn exist?
I comforted her when she lost her first pet, a goldfish named Rainbow. I protected her from the monsters under the bed. I agreed that cake should be a breakfast food. Through all the joyful and upsetting times in her life, I was her constant companion.
Now I’m like a forgotten fairy. My light is growing dim.My once vibrant violet complexion has degraded into a ghostly pale white. My once formidable limbs have become fragile and stiff. However, what truly shatters me is the loss of my horn that once held the love and magic we shared.
As I watch her move on to perfume and make up from ribbons and curls, I wonder if she ever thinks of me.
Pictures from disney/pixar’s InsideOut
There was a girl with a future ahead
in a short fell swoop those dreams became dead
As hard as she tries no one sees her dying heart
A grade A poker face, no one sees her crying
Alone now, she looks through the glass
silence as she watches her reflection pass
What could of been is now history
Blurred is her will of change
Mirror on the wall she stares into deep
Who’s the girl who wishes for eternal sleep
But before she could see her cold hard face
The mirror showed her change is what awaits.