Angels

In the glow of the evening sun,
The angel arrives, the angel comes,
With golden skin and golden wings,
An angel whispers, an angel sings,
They're beauty outside but ugly within,
Angels aren't virtue, angels are sin,
All-knowing minds you cannot fool,
Masters of evil, masters of cruel,
Cunning eyes as small as beads,
An angel lures, an angel feeds,
A gentle bite to human skin,
The blood flows out, the blood flows in,
Pointy teeth now stained with red,
A human dying, a human dead,
Sharp claws tear the flesh apart,
To reach their favourite, to reach the heart,
In the glow of the morning rise,
The angel leaves, the angel flies.

The Creature

The creature rose from the flames, it's mouth stretched into a silent scream. It's face, once beautiful, was distorted unnaturally and burnt flesh tore away in strips, leaving it raw underneath. As if sensing it was being watched, the creature's head snapped round to face the girl. She gagged and her hands flew to cover her mouth. Where the creature's eyes should have been were two bloody gouges, as if it had scratched it's eyes out with it's own talons. Perhaps it had.

Making You Laugh

"I could not push away the burning desire to make you laugh. As if your laughter was the sound that fuelled me, brought me to life. I could not live without it, for the thing that gave me the most happiness was seeing you happy."

Bluebell

Every year on this same day he returned to this spot. Always alone, always clutching a single bluebell, freshly picked. This year, his brown hair veiled his eyes, he had to keep shoving it back. It hadn't been cut for a while. The hands that were wrapped around the bluebell stem were red and cracked, the nails bitten down. His skin was washed out and shadows lurked beneath his eyes. He was tired, so tired, but he did not let this get in the way of what he had to do today, what he had to do on this day every year.

He is Gone (Re-draft)

Through my hazy state between awake and asleep, I feel him climb in next to me. The heat from his body immediately comforts me; I snuggle closer. For three hours his absence has left me restless, but now I am finally able to relax. His arm, slightly lifting my top, slides under my back. I peak down at his hand, curled around my waist, and sigh in contentment. I wish that for once it could still be there when morning arrives, when I am more awake. Yet every time the sun inches high enough to cast bright beams through my window, waking me, he is gone. The next day is no exception. An overwhelming brightness flashes behind my closed eyelids and stirs me. The emptiness on the sheets next to me engulfs any chance that it was real this time. 
The next night when he climbs under the covers, I shift my head so that it lies on his chest. Its gentle rise and fall reassures me that he has returned again, and that he hasn’t left me yet. He brushes his lips against my forehead. The kiss lingers there long after he draws away. As I slowly sink into a deep sleep, I feel his words tickle my ear, but am far enough gone that I can’t quite catch what he says.  

Writing Journal- 17/3/14

This week I have writing and improving my script. This script that I am working on is an adaptation of my fiction writing piece ‘Poison’. I have never written a television script before and so wasn’t sure if I was going to enjoy this task. However, I have found it really fun and interesting to do so far. In a way, it makes me think more about the visuals of the scenes. This is because I kept the visuals in ‘Poison’ very minimal, barely even there, in order to keep the scene, in a way, anonymous and mysterious, so the reader could imagine the surroundings the way that they wanted to. Whereas, when I was writing the script, I found I needed to put a lot more thought into where I wanted these characters to be, otherwise the piece would not have worked as well in script form.
I tried to take the key conventions from the existing scripts that I looked at, to use in my own. At the beginning of the scene there is a line that states if it is ‘interior’ or exterior’, where the scene is, and usually the time of day. For example, for my first scene I wrote:
INT. AIRPORT –- DAY.
As well as this, I made the basic layout of my script mirror that of all the other scripts I viewed. The dialogue is situated more centrally; each line is shorter than those of the descriptions/details of the scene.
Character wise, I did not have any names in mind. In my head, the characters were simply ‘Man, Woman, and Girl’. In the original version of ‘Poison’ this did not matter, as their names were not revealed at any point. This, again, left the characters more anonymous and mysterious. However, for the script I thought that I needed some sort of identification for the three. I quite liked ‘Man’ and ‘Woman’ for the man and the woman who is overlooking the scene, just for now, because it mirrors how their identities/intentions aren’t revealed yet. But I thought with the other female character, she needed to have a name. I had the name ‘Jane’ stuck in my head; every time that I thought of another and tried to apply it to her, I knew it didn’t sound right, and I kept returning back to ‘Jane’. So, that is who she became. 

Writing Journal- 23/2/14

This week, half term, I have been writing my ‘P#zazz Pizza’ review and re-drafting my travel writing piece.
I quite enjoyed the task of writing a restaurant review, which was with provided ‘notes’ from when I ‘visited the restaurant.’ I had never written a review for a restaurant review and so found it fun to try something new. However, my first draft had consisted of about 700 words, and when I read the task again, I saw that it must be only 300. So I then had to begin re-drafting, and cutting out a lot, which I found to be the most difficult part. This took a long time, as I didn’t know which bits I could sacrifice, and didn’t want to lose the personal voice I had created by taking out some of the quirky comments. But eventually, I managed to get it down to exactly 300 words, and I think that it is a lot more concise now as there is less of my waffling.
For my travel writing, I read through the part of my newest draft that I had already written, and then made some notes about parts/details that I could add to it. I remembered about the little boy who was staying on a pitch near us, which is a sweet story, and so I thought I would dedicate my biggest paragraph to this. So I began writing it. I tried to keep my ‘voice’ throughout, and to make it as interesting as possible by slightly exaggerating some details in order to add humour. For example, putting up the tent was pretty easy, but I thought it would make a better story if I tried to create a comical image of the four of us struggling. Overall I am quite pleased with how this draft ended up, and I think that it has improved drastically since the first draft.