I am thinking of expanding on Amy's character later in the story. I kind of have a love hate relationship with the story. My laptop that I usually use essay stuff and relaxing is experiencing some issues. So it's probably going to be a while before i work on it again. But, anyway here's what I have now. I might change the names of Rodger, Amy and Steven although I haven't decide yet. Rodger, found himself staring at the stars quite often, wondering exactly how he had ended up here. Life all of a sudden seemed a blur, almost as if life happened in a mere moment in the grand expanse of things. All Rodger could remember of the past ten or, so years of his life was studying to be an archaeologist and joining a group. A group which he had led on this seemingly pointless trip. He watched as the sun rose and stood silently as the campfire crackled and the morning breeze nipped at his weathered and aged cheeks. He felt a tap on his shoulder, then he heard a sweet, small voice. He turned around to face the voice. Amy a petite brunette girl with ocean blue eyes stood there looking perplexed, “are you okay?” She asked with notes of concern in her voice. “I was just pondering, how my life had come to this point.” Rodger responded in his gruff low voice. He pictured the years of hard work and exams in a flash and wondered if it had been worth it. “It’s okay to ponder boss. Just remember to not spend all your time looking backwards.” Amy said chipperly. Rodger having experienced much more than Amy, had developed a cynical view on life. He took one last look out at the rising sky as it put on its morning performance and turned to face Amy again. “Are the others up yet? We need to get a move on, if we are to meet our goal by the deadline.” “I am not sure, I’ll check.” Responded Amy. As the crew gathered their things, Rodger couldn’t escape the feeling that he’d been deceived and there was no tressure. He’d risked so much for this treasure was it a mere hoax? Had he waisted his time? “I know where raven's chest is hidden.” My ears pricked up. “Sure, you do old man.” “I do it’s on Rutdosa Bluff” the old man said defensively. “The other man rolled his eyes and walked away. “Sorry, did you say the raven’s chest!” I asked excitedly. “That I did child but be warned, Rutdosas Bluff takes no pity on the greedy, only one pure of heart can tame the beast.” “Be warned your heart must be in it, to take on this quest when you have no skill is a death sentence” As the old man rambled on, I zoned out thinking about the glory the money the infamy. “I zoned back in with a sudden realisation. “Did you say beast?” I said but the old man was gone. “Rodger, we can’t keep throwing away resources and money away on your crazy treasure dreams.” Steven said. Steven was 6ft dark haired and slim. “But boss this is the raven’s chest, this is the big one.” “Our cooperate sponsors are getting very concerned Rodger.” “Steven, haven’t I proven myself enough to you have worked here for 25 years, I am always on time and always do everything asked of me.” Steven thought about it for a while “Fine you have a month, but if you are not back once that month is up, you’re fired.” “I won’t let you down boss.” “Boss!” “Boss! “Wake up boss.” Rodger felt a firm slap to the face and his eyes shot open. “Boss, you were passed out boss.” Said Zinoviy an inexperienced archaeologist who joined the crew on the last day. But who was chosen because of his first aid skills. “Did you slap me, Zinoviy” “You were out cold boss.” “Right, well, thank you but don’t do it again.” Rodger said, rubbing his left cheek. The sound of thunder echoed all around. Sekhmet brought out her anemometer, “oh no.” Rodger turned to face her. “It’s never good when you say that.” He watched as concern rippled through her olive toned skin. “We need to get to safety now!’ Sekhmet said in a panic. The group ran as fast as they could, but it was too late, the storm bellowed down on them as they tried to grasp for anything to grip on to. They pushed forward with all their might to get through the storm

“Ready?” Marco asked her as she finished stripping down to her underwear. “Yeah.” She replied, brushing off the fact that he was staring at her and blushing. As he led her down the hall to the bathroom, Amber went to grab some candles. Carolina wasn't sure if this was an exorcism or just cult stuff but they seemed to know what they were doing so she didn't ask questions. Once Amber returned with the candles, Marco helped her get them all lit, Carolina lowered herself into the tub, trying not to let the cold bother her as she shivered uncontrollably. “Thank you,” Amber said, and glanced at her as Marco finished lighting the candles. “For doing this for us.” Carolina was too cold to speak so she nodded stiffly. They exited the bathroom and as they were leaving Marco glanced at her. “You are a very extraordinary person, Carolina.” He turned the lights out and shut the door. Carolina sat in the darkness, wondering if Marco had developed a crush on her. She brushed the thought away and closed her eyes, letting her head rest in the water leaving only her face above the surface to breathe. Then there was nothing.

Heyy @Xwisdom, You've created a captivating scene with vivid descriptions that drew me into the narrative. Your ability to paint pictures with words is truly impressive. I could clearly visualize the campfire crackling and feel the morning breeze on my skin as I read your words. You have a great sense of atmosphere and mood in your writing, but in a few places, the pacing could be improved. For instance, when the old man mentions the raven's chest and Rutdosa Bluff, it feels a bit rushed. Take your time to build anticipation and curiosity. I love the dynamic between Rodger and Amy, perhaps consider giving more depth to your characters. Like what drives Rodger's obsession with treasure hunting? What motivates Amy? Adding some backstory or inner thoughts can make your characters even more relatable and interesting. Does this sound okay to you?

I added some more based on your advice. Again it's unfinished but this it what it looks like now. Rodger, found himself staring at the stars quite often, wondering exactly how he had ended up here. Life all of a sudden seemed a blur, almost as if life happened in a mere moment in the grand expanse of things. All Rodger could remember of the past ten or so years of his life was studying to be a archaeologist and joining a group. A group which he had led on this seemingly pointless trip. He watched as the sun rose and stood silently as the campfire crackled and the morning breeze nipped at his weathered and aged cheeks. He felt a tap on his shoulder, then he heard a sweet, small voice. He turned around to face the voice. Amy a petite brunette girl with ocean blue eyes stood there looking perplexed, “are you okay?” She asked with notes of concern in her voice. “I was just pondering, how my life had come to this point.” Rodger responded in his gruff low voice. He pictured the years of hard work and exams in a flash and wondered if it had been worth it. “It’s okay to ponder boss. Just remember to not spend all your time looking backwards.” Amy said chipperly. Rodger having experienced much more than Amy, had developed a cynical view on life. He took one last look out at the rising sky as it put on its morning performance and turned to face Amy again. “Are the others up yet? We need to get a move on, if we are to meet our goal by the deadline.” “I am not sure, I’ll check.” Responded Amy. As the crew gathered their things, Rodger couldn’t escape the feeling that he’d been deceived and there was no tressure. He’d risked so much for this treasure was it a mere hoax? Had he waisted his time? “I know where raven's chest is hidden.” Rodgers ears pricked up. “Sure, you do old man.” “I do it’s on Rutdosa Bluff” the old man said defensively. “ The other man rolled his eyes and walked away. “Sorry, did you say the raven’s chest!” Rodger asked excitedly. “That I did child but be warned Rutdosas Bluff takes no pity on the greedy, only one pure of heart can tame the beast.” “Did you say beast?” Rodger said but the old man was gone. “Rodger, we can’t keep throwing away resources and money away on your crazy treasure dreams.” Steven said. Steven was 6ft dark haired and slim. “But boss this is the raven’s chest, this is the big one.” “Our cooperate sponsors are getting very concerned Rodger.” “Steven haven’t I proven myself enough to you have worked here for 25 years, I am always on time and always do everything asked of me.” Steven thought about it for a while “Fine you have a month, but if you are not back once that month is up, you’re fired.” “I won’t let you down boss.” “Boss!” “Boss! “wake up boss.” Rodger felt a firm slap to the face and his eyes shot open. “Boss, you were passed out boss.” Said Zinoviy an inexperienced archaeologist who joined the crew on the last day. But who was chosen because of his first aid skills. “Did you slap me, Zinoviy” “ You were out cold boss.” “Right, well, thank you but don’t do it again.” Rodger said, rubbing his left cheek.

Heyy @Xwisdom, Your narrative has the beginnings of an interesting story with potential for deep introspection and character development. You've introduced the idea of Rodger staring at the stars and watching the sun rise, which is a great way to evoke a sense of atmosphere. Consider describing the sensations he experiences more vividly. How does the night air feel on his skin? Is there a scent of the outdoors or a gentle breeze rustling the leaves? Engaging the senses can make the scene more immersive for the reader. Also, You've introduced Amy, which is an excellent opportunity to develop both her character and Rodger's. Show more of their interactions and how they contrast or complement each other. What does Amy think about Rodger's pondering? Does she have her own perspective on life? Use dialogue and actions to reveal their personalities and create a connection between them. I was thinking that when Rodger reflects on how his life led him to this point, perhaps dive deeper into his thoughts and emotions. Explore his regrets, aspirations, and the decisions that brought him here. This introspection can be a powerful way to engage readers and make them empathize with Rodger's journey. Lastly, consider ending this passage with a compelling question or revelation that entices readers to continue. It could be related to Rodger's pondering or something unexpected that happens with Amy. A strong hook can make readers eager to find out what happens next. Hope this feedback is helpful for you

Rodger, found himself staring at the stars quite often, wondering exactly how he had ended up here. Life all of a sudden seemed a blur, almost as if life happened in a mere moment in the grand expanse of things. All Rodger could remember of the past ten or so years of his life was studying to be archaeologist and joining a group. A group which he had led on this seemingly pointless trip. He watched as the sun rose. He felt a tap on his shoulder, then he heard a sweet, small voice. He turned around to face the voice. Amy a petite brunette girl with ocean blue eyes stood there looking perplexed, “are you okay?” She asked with notes of concern in her voice. “I was just pondering, how my life had come to this point.” Rodger responded in his gruff low voice.

This may be a terrible and unclear bit of advice and you don't have to take it, but I would focus on the things you like first. For example if you really like pathetic fallacy and the weather, start with the weather. How does the weather affect the story? Is it in a storm with the challenges of a storm or is it a happy piece with lot's of sun. Is the weather an indicator of things to come? If you like character development think about what makes them tick, what they look like and go from there. If that makes sense. If you enjoy what you are writing, the reader is more likely to enjoy it. Generally, writing of any kind doesn't have to be written in a linear way, experiment do what feels right. Then refine the details. Hope this helps.

My short story: The Tale of the Soldier Slain by the Poet This is the tale of the mighty soldier who was slain by the lowly poet. The soldier went from place to place, conquering cities that yielded to her and tearing down the walls of those that didn’t. She was strong and agile. Her specialty was the sword. She could wield it as no other could. Her loyalty was to her king and to herself. The king wanted land and power. She wanted adventure and status. They struck a deal and a partnership when the king discovered her talents. She would conquer the biggest cities in the land and he would make sure the world knew her name, although now it is long forgotten. She went on her way, challenging the strongest forts, town, etc. She won every battle she fought and it became known that if she had her sights set on a city then it would surely fall. She grew in pride but also in loneliness, for everyone feared her. She had no friends and her family was long gone. The king didn’t care for her. She was only his tool. She tried to reach out, but no one would even make eye contact with her on the street. People avoided her. Even the people in her hometown didn’t want to interact with her. They thought if they said the wrong thing she may slay them. She would have fallen into despair but she pushed it out of her mind and told herself that she didn’t need anyone else. She was strong. She was pretty. Who needs friendship or people to care about you or people who love you? Right? One day she entered into a city, not intending on conquering this one. She was just going to stay there one night before she continued on her way. She booked a night at an inn across from the plaza. She didn’t have many things since she travels so much, and it didn’t take long for her to settle in. There were still a few hours before nightfall and she didn’t have anything better to do, so she decided to go on a walk. She walked around uptown and downtown until she stopped back at the plaza. There was no one there except a man in a feathered hat, sitting on a bench, scribbling words on a parchment. She sat next to the young lad and remained silent for several long minutes before fate begged her to speak. ”Hello,” she said to the young man. ”Hello,” he replied. ”What are you writing?” she asked. ”Poetry,” he said. ”Why?” she asked. ”I enjoy it,” he replied. ”Why do you speak to a commoner like me?” he asked the soldier. ”I don’t know. I guess I just felt like it,” said the girl. ”You are lonely,” the poet said. ”What? I mean I suppose I am but how did you know?” she asked. ”You wouldn’t have talked to me if you weren’t, and I can see it in your eyes. Not to mention a person who moves around so much will find it difficult to make friends. It’s the same for someone who has taken so many lives,” responded the poet. ”Hey! I only took the lives that were necessary to conquer those lands!” screamed the soldier. ”And why did you need to conquer those lands? You didn’t have to. You did it for your own gain. You took those lives for your own gain,” the poet continued, “Everything you destroyed, all the people you slain, was simply because you thought it could buy you happiness, but here you are: More depressed than you have ever been in your life. What did your conquering buy you? Nothing. It bought you nothing except loneliness.” ”I should be going,” said the soldier. “Good night to you,” replied the poet. ”Good night to you too,” responded the soldier. And with that the soldier got up and walked across the street to the inn where she was staying. That night she thought about all of the things the poet had said. Had she really wasted her life away? Was anything she had done worth it? After that night, the soldier was never seen or heard from again. The front desk clerk at the inn didn’t even see her leave. It is unknown what happened to her. Whether she went to start a new life for herself or otherwise I do not know, but there is one thing I do know. Only one person was ever able to stop the soldier. Only one person was able to slay the soldier that lived in her heart. Not kings nor noblemen nor warriors from afar. The only one that could slay the soldier was the lowly, commoner poet. And that, my friends, is the tale of the soldier slain by the poet. (I wrote this on quotev but I thought I’d share it here)

so i am like the best at writing drama and horror stories but i don't know if my stories are going to be good enough for this talented group of writers

No I haven’t I am currently working on the third chapter.

I think that's a great idea for a first chapter. It draws you in immediately and you're intrigued to find out what this is all about! Have you got the outline for your whole book already?

I decided to write a fantasy book. I only finished a short chapter one, but would like some opinions for other people! The chapter is below. Chapter 1 - Where the story ends, or begins! She rushes to the battle field ready to fight anything that gets in her path to save the kingdom. She cuts through bushes, branches, and nets to get to the dragon, at last she takes a jump and slices off the dragon's head! As Pearl was celebrating with her friends she thought to herself ´This scene had seemed all too familiar…´ ¨As it should be!¨said a mysterious voice in the shadows behind. Everyone Froze in shock. A little light gray head popped out of the shadows, followed by a little gray body with baby blue stripes, a fluffy tail, and four small paws. Pearl asked ¨Who are you and what do you want with me and my friends?¨ ¨I am the cat named Bell and I want for you to go back to the start!¨ Bell replied ¨And to see what you did wrong.¨ In a sudden, bright flash Pearl was where she had started, but she didn't remember that!

well, it started with just creating two D&D characters, and deciding that if we made our own world, we could write a deicent book about them. Most plot and characters one of us came up with on the spot, although we knew from the begining that Keres was going to be the kind of character you feel bad for, and that you were supposed to end up with kinda conflicting emotions about Faressa, but still end up pittying her. I guess as far as the rest of the insperation goes, we drew from some myths, some typical fantasy tropes, and things we find intresting in books.

Depressed all day Could not sleep well anyway I can just cry. Bye

My mom says I'm unique I just feel helpless and weak No one listens so i don't speak I'm so glad it's the end of the week It was so bleak.

I get you. Nobody ever listens to me, so I make up characters and write about them. I feel like they are listening. What do you write about?

I’m tied down by my brain, but my brain is also tied down with me. That’s how I see it. The psychologist sees it differently. She says I have a “verbal processing delay”, which is fancy talk for a fast brain and a slow mouth. The thing is, I always know what I want to say, but I don’t know what to say. I have all these ideas running around in my head trying to get out, but my mouth is a locked door, not allowing those ideas out. And when it does open, it lets only the smallest ideas out, and it stutters and stalls like an old engine. You could be among the stars, says the psychologist. You have the mind of a genius, but the world can’t hear it because your mouth is a locked door. So curb your brain and train it, and then maybe your brain won’t lunge ahead of your mouth. But I can’t do that. I won’t let my brain become that of a child when it could be that of an adult. I’ll put up with my slow mouth and fast brain and maybe I’ll grow out of it. That was last year. I haven’t grown out of it. And there’s a damn good chance I never will. And that’s why I write. It’s the only way I can let the ideas out of my head. My fingers move pretty slowly too, but they move faster than my mouth. And that’s something. When I write, I feel like I’m flying. But until I’m magically able to speak as well as I write, I am a balloon tied to a railing, straining for the stars.

Pushed down, broken and bruised I feel like im being used There i lie, on the ground Covered in my cold dark shroud Covered up, there I lie, All i do is cry inside Happiness is no more As I lie there on the floor