Once, back when I was in school, the teacher played us an old song from back before America collapsed and Panem was formed. It was called, if I recall correctly, Hometown Glory. I had long ago forgotten the tune and words, but I remembered the name. I also remembered that the teacher explained to us that a hometown used to mean the place where a person grew up, where his or her roots were. Memory is a strange thing.
It was that song title I was thinking of when I heard that Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark were coming back to Twelve. Our hometown glories. This year, all of Twelve had watched the Games with bated breath, instead of our
The Hunger Games: the best time of the year. The interviews were awesome. The parties were mind-blowing. The actual Games? Beyond words.
Once, my entire family-- me, the parents, and my little sis Tissa-- went to one of the arenas. It was, like, wow. V big. It was the one where Finnick Odair won. My best friend Rashare Bolton and some of my other friends had a total crush on him, but I didn't think he was THAT hot. Besides, he was, like, a total playboy. My favorite victor was Johanna Mason. At first she pretended to be, like, all weak, so everyone would ignore her, but then she became this vicious killing machine and won. That was one f
It was the most dreaded day in the year. The day when two of us were randomly chosen and sent to die, by order of the Capitol.
I had spent the entire morning mending and ironing our family's best clothes, because one of the Capitol's sadistic rules about Reaping Day was that it was to be treated like a holiday.
Before my mother died, she managed to have one set of twins and one set of triplets. The twins were me, Jazelle, and my sister Joana. We were 14. The triplets were my little brothers Matew, Mark, and Mikel.
Joana and my mother died a year ago. Pneumonia. When I thought about them, it still hurt, so much that I gasped f
I run.
Not from anything or anyone. Not towards anything or anyone. My feet pound the ground; my lungs drag oxygen from the reluctant air. I am past tiredness, past exhaustion. The trees, the sky, the buildings, all swirl together and become one with the steady pumping of my legs and the scuffed track before me. The winter-cold air cleanses and caresses my body, exhilarating me.
I am alive.
I run.
The summer I turned 13, I found out that my best friend was evil. No, not evil. Just vindictive and ruthless. That was also the summer Aimee Fiske had a mental breakdown. My dad worked with her father, so he got all the latest news.
It was a Saturday afternoon, and summer vacation had started. Emily, my best friend, and I were messaging back and forth on Facebook.
Isabel Hunt: Vacation's ending in a week
Emily Larsen: :(
Isabel Hunt: Want to hear the latest news about Aimee?
Emily Larsen: Duh. Yes.
Isabel Hunt: Her breakdown now has a lovely new name: major depression something.
Emily Larsen: Major depression something. I l
Eyes of Blue ch. 1 by Christina-Taylor, literature
Literature
Eyes of Blue ch. 1
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This story is set in an another world where magic is a fact of life. Any resemblance to this universe is purely for the preservation of my sanity.
CHAPTER 1
I won't deny that it hurts. It hurts when they stare, when they whisper. It hurts when I hear the words: strange. Odd. Freaky. It hurts to be different, in a world that prizes normality.
Nobody knows why and how faerie magic reaches into some human wome
We are perfect strangers, really.
Even though we
sit next to each other,
have done for a month
Know each other,
have done for a year
She does not know
my fears
my weaknesses
my lies
my fantasies
She knows, however, that
I like to laugh
to eat chocolate
to read.
That'll do, for now.
Once, back when I was in school, the teacher played us an old song from back before America collapsed and Panem was formed. It was called, if I recall correctly, Hometown Glory. I had long ago forgotten the tune and words, but I remembered the name. I also remembered that the teacher explained to us that a hometown used to mean the place where a person grew up, where his or her roots were. Memory is a strange thing.
It was that song title I was thinking of when I heard that Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark were coming back to Twelve. Our hometown glories. This year, all of Twelve had watched the Games with bated breath, instead of our
The Hunger Games: the best time of the year. The interviews were awesome. The parties were mind-blowing. The actual Games? Beyond words.
Once, my entire family-- me, the parents, and my little sis Tissa-- went to one of the arenas. It was, like, wow. V big. It was the one where Finnick Odair won. My best friend Rashare Bolton and some of my other friends had a total crush on him, but I didn't think he was THAT hot. Besides, he was, like, a total playboy. My favorite victor was Johanna Mason. At first she pretended to be, like, all weak, so everyone would ignore her, but then she became this vicious killing machine and won. That was one f
It was the most dreaded day in the year. The day when two of us were randomly chosen and sent to die, by order of the Capitol.
I had spent the entire morning mending and ironing our family's best clothes, because one of the Capitol's sadistic rules about Reaping Day was that it was to be treated like a holiday.
Before my mother died, she managed to have one set of twins and one set of triplets. The twins were me, Jazelle, and my sister Joana. We were 14. The triplets were my little brothers Matew, Mark, and Mikel.
Joana and my mother died a year ago. Pneumonia. When I thought about them, it still hurt, so much that I gasped f
Eyes of Blue ch. 1 by Christina-Taylor, literature
Literature
Eyes of Blue ch. 1
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This story is set in an another world where magic is a fact of life. Any resemblance to this universe is purely for the preservation of my sanity.
CHAPTER 1
I won't deny that it hurts. It hurts when they stare, when they whisper. It hurts when I hear the words: strange. Odd. Freaky. It hurts to be different, in a world that prizes normality.
Nobody knows why and how faerie magic reaches into some human wome
Eyes of Blue ch. 1 by Christina-Taylor, literature
Literature
Eyes of Blue ch. 1
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This story is set in an another world where magic is a fact of life. Any resemblance to this universe is purely for the preservation of my sanity.
CHAPTER 1
I won't deny that it hurts. It hurts when they stare, when they whisper. It hurts when I hear the words: strange. Odd. Freaky. It hurts to be different, in a world that prizes normality.
Nobody knows why and how faerie magic reaches into some human wome
I'm a half-British, half-Taiwanese girl who speaks with an American accent half the time because I don't hear enough British English. Yes, it happens. I'm obsessed with The Hunger Games, Harry Potter, and books in general. I am also one mention of Sherlock away from becoming a screaming fangirl. Writing is one of my hobbies, and any feedback on my writing skill would be greatly appreciated. Below, see everything else you need to know about me in stamp form. Including the fact that I loooove stamps. :thumb213257407: :thumb202381790: :thumb173735313: :thumb122523432: :thumb49929195: :thumb312137440:
Favourite Visual Artist
Georgia O'Keeffe, Claude Monet
Favourite Movies
Coraline, Snatch
Favourite TV Shows
Homeland, Ringer, Once Upon a Time
Favourite Bands / Musical Artists
Adele, Coldplay, Florence + the Machine, She & Him, Taylor Swift
Favourite Books
Anything by Terry Pratchett, Harry Potter, the Hunger Games
Favourite Writers
J.K. Rowling, Terry Pratchett, John Steinbeck
Favourite Games
Dragonvale, Temple Run
Tools of the Trade
Unreliable digital camera, awesome Acer laptop & my imagination
Gaahh, message overload. And alliteration overload, most likely. But down to the tricky business of sticking to my title. It's harder than it looks...
So, firstly, I have to apologize for being super inactive on dA recently. I'm really, really sorry about that. Most nights, I get just enough time to dig through my messages before I have to shut down and go to bed (ugh). Partly because of a wonderful, wonderful place called Tumblr I have recently discovered. The place is like a second Wonderland! And, um, yeah, a Wonderland where I can fangirl. A lot. :squee: Oooh, Benedict Cumberbatch!
Speaking of fangirling, that brings me to my second
This is going to be really quick, like the title suggests. I just discovered this deviant, DavidDeb (https://www.deviantart.com/daviddeb), whose drawings are AMAZING!
:thumb199621168::thumb193577279: :thumb293692999: :thumb287981328:
The realness and attention to detail is astounding, which is why I've been surfing his gallery. Also, he's doing Game of Thrones and I MISS IT! Please check him out.
Which leads to my other quick thing: all the shows I were watching have come to their season finale. Homeland, Ringer, Once Upon a Time... It will be a month before I have something to do on Thursday and Sunday nights besides hang around on dA, which I do too much of anywa
Okay, this is going to be one of my longer journals, because a bunch of stuff happened recently that fit into the journal title, so here's a list:
:bulletblue: :bulletblue: :bulletblue: :bulletblue: :bulletblue: :bulletblue:
First: A week ago, my dad took my mum and me to this remembrance ceremony for FEPOWS (Far Eastern Prisoners Of War). It was kind of melancholy, of course, but the thing that made the biggest impression on me the last name of a couple that was at the ceremony. Their surname was Officer. Pretty awesome. This is totally tangential, I know, but it's a pretty cool surname.
Second: It's official: the Micro