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Genre: Young Adult & Youth
About Rosiie..xLocation: La Suisse But Really I Am From Manchester Age:16 Website: http://www.facebook.com/purplegrandad.x Favorite novels: Twilight trilogy, Rachel Riley series, Before I Die, Waterbound Favorite writers: Malorie Blackman, Stephenie Meyer, Roald Dahl Favorite music: Yoav, Fall Out Boy, Mcfly, The Fray, My Chemical Romance, Elliot Minor, Mika Non-noveling interests: Listening to music, writing songs, unintentionally making other people laugh . . because I'm strange. :D |
Joined: Oktober 16, 2007 This Year: Official Participant NaNoWriMo History: NaNoWriMo posts: 12 NaNoWriMo buddies: 18
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Brief Author Bio: According to my parents I am an emo shrimp, because a) I am small, b) I wear my hair over my eyes, and c) because I like My Chemical Romance. I am not particularly an emo, although the fact I haven't grown in four years does lend evidence to the fact that I'm a shrimp. I love to sing and can quite happily bellow along to anything on Infinity On High at any time of the day. More often than not when my brothers are trying to sleep, which isn't too helpful, but ah well. Music is, undoubtedly, L.O.V.E. |
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Synopsis: Girl With A Shiner
Scarlet has the crazy family on the crazy street.
Alice arrives from Russia.
And Scarlet is awestruck.
Sunlight captures beauty and turns it into gold
I never wished to take a life but inside I was cold.
The world had left its axis as I tipped to jump the nest;
And missed the ground approaching, as you never let me rest.
I saw you spread your wings and lift off into flight,
Though the shadows of your love remained to taint my only light -
Now I've run to chase the cinders, as I chose to roll the dice,
But fire on that hollow night could never break the ice.
Sunlight captures beauty and turns it into gold
I never wished to take my life but inside you were cold.
Excerpt: Girl With A Shiner
Do you see me?
You shouldn’t.
I don’t want you to.
Invisibility. And as she walks, the wish is her command; the chattering laughs, raucous joking, too-loud play-fighting that left her meandering about on the outskirts fade away to oblivion as her eyes see only the cracking leaves on the sloping ground beneath her feet, and she hears only bottles clinking-clanging together in celebration of the midnight hour being reached. The crackling leaves gradually give way to fallen branches as the ground steepens and the trees close in, and she allows her eyes one brief flick upwards as the first of the deafening people arrives at a small, warmly burning fire.
But oh. All sounds fade out now – the clinking-clanging evaporating as if it was never there – as she sees who exactly is sat on a flame-tinted log in the campsite by the fire. Because where else, if the only intention is to say you lost. Get over it. I’m sorry but it’s true?
Her. It’s her. Of course
Who else? You lost.
Rosiie..x's Writing Buddies
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