Rai's Attempt at Freewriting. ._. (Lets see what happens...)

I will post the M & F for each freewrite right above them.

So, I will be attempting to write 700-1800 words every day or two. :3 I haven't really freewritten before and I'm excited to see how this'll go!




Freewrite of 7/18/10.
Maturity: Welp, an eight year old kiss. XD
Fantasy: It could happen.


&&.there's no sense in dancing if you can't move your arms as well as your feet.&&


Felix sat on her bed, curled around her pillow. Her parents were downstairs. They were yelling so loud, Felix was afraid that even she wouldn't make it through this one. Still holding her pillow against her side, she walked out to the catwalk, where she could hear her parent's better. Felix didn't even listen to their conversation: she just wanted to know what was happening. Her parents had been fighting an awful lot lately, and Felix didn't understand it. They used to be so happy together, but lately they'd seemed so... off. Even though Felix was only nine, even she could see how much they seemed to hate each other.

Felix quickly scurried back into her room and closed her door quietly. She locked it, checking again to see if she'd turned the switch far enough. She nodded, satisfied, and then shuffled over to her window. She opened the old, country styled window and observed the ground below her. She also examined the brick wall. Tossing her head, she decided she'd probably be able to make it down far enough to be able to jump and be alright.

She stuck her foot out, her toes desperately trying to find some sort of solid object. They found the rough brick and seemed to glue there, gripping well. Felix stuck her other foot out and spaced it a shoulder-length away from her other foot. Then, she gripped the grey concrete between the bricks with her delicate fingers. She decided the best way to descend was quickly, but skillfully. She made sure she had her grip before proceeding, though.

About 5 feet from the ground, Felix's hands began to slip. She opted to jump, because she'd be able to land in the grass if she projected it right. She leapt from the wall, her body flying backwards.

She hit the ground, seemingly without a sound. Felix smiled and patted down her pajamas. It was nighttime, maybe around nine o'clock, and Felix knew she should be in bed. She disregarded that fact and curiously tip-toed around the yard. Not knowing where to go, she finally decided to go to the lake. The lake would be quiet: a great relief from all of the commotion going on inside her home.

Her legs began to extend, turning into a short but very quick stride. Felix ran very quickly, ran from her house. Her parents, her bed, her dog, the night, her life. Just one escape would do the trick: that was all she needed. Just a little time away from home.

She eventually reached the lake, without breaking a sweat. She tip-toed swiftly over to the bank and stuck her toes in.

A few moments later, the bushes about ten feet away from her rustled. Felix looked up, her pale blue eyes wide with shock. Her mouth formed a little 'o' while staring at the bushes.

A small figure, about the same size as Felix's, appeared from the bush. Felix definitely knew this boy: he was Johnny. Her one and only crush. He was her best friend, but Felix loved him. She loved him as much as an eight year old possibly could.

"Johnny?" Felix whispered suspiciously.

Johnny whipped around and recognized Felix in the moonlight. He ran over to her and plopped down right next to her.

"What are you doing here?" Johnny asked, his sweet voice filling the silence of the night.
"I wanted to get away from home. Mommy and Daddy are fighting again," Felix said with a sigh.
"Oh. Mine, too," Johnny said.
"Sorry about that," Felix apologized: she knew what it felt like when parents were way too indulged in fighting.
"It's okay. Sorry about your parents, too," Johnny replied.
"It's fine," Felix said, tossing her head.
"Do you know what would make you feel better?" Johnny asked her sweetly.
"No," Felix replied softly.
"A kiss," Johnny said.

Without her reply, Johnny leaned in and kissed Felix, right on the lips. Felix clasped her hands over her lips and giggled.

"I love you, Johnny," Felix said and kissed him on the cheek.
"I love you, too, Felix," Johnny replied.

With that, Felix ran home.

Who knew that a simple kiss, from someone, anyone, could make her feel so elated? So much better? Well, Felix knew that for sure now.

Ahh! Thats so sweet!

Uhh, I'm a bit confused. At some point it says "Even though Felix was only nine....." but then it says "She loved him as much as an eight year old possibly could." and then it says "Maturity: Welp, an eight year old kiss. XD"

So is she eight or nine?

Ooops, she's 8. XD

Freewrite of 7/20/10
Maturity: Low, but contains a reference to a bad word.
Fantasy: Low, very possible. xP


"Ivy, get your lazy *butt* out of the bed," my sister said.

She hit my face playfully and chuckled. Clearly, she was much more amused than I was. She continued to mess with my face.

"Ughhhhhhhh," I managed to croak.

I tossed over, so my back was facing Iris. My long black hair fell in a messy mop around my head. I shut my eyes once more, hoping that Iris would leave me alone. It was summer, anyways. What was the rush?

"C'mon!!!" Iris whined.
"Shuddup," I slurred, then shifted positions.

I felt Iris' weight lift off of my bed and I thought for a moment she'd gone away. I could hear her footsteps: she was right in front of the green curtains in my bedroom. Oh no.

I knew what was coming and either way I was going to have to wake up. Just as Iris started to open the curtains, leapt out of bed.

"Okay, you idiot, I'm up," I groaned, annoyed.
"Awe, c'mon. It was time for you to wake up! It's eleven," She said, dragging out the final word.
"So? It's freaking summer. Now leave me alone," I said.

I threw a pillow at her and started to pace my room a bit. Gosh, I was nervous. Three days from now would be the first year of high school.

"What are you so stressed about?" Iris asked me curiously.
"Psshhh, stressed? Me? Noooo," I lied.
"Shut up," Iris said, throwing the pillow back at me, "I know you're nervous about something."
"No, I'm not!" I screeched defensively. "You know what, just get out of my room. This conversation is over, and so will be your life if you stay in here for another second."

Iris' eyes grew wide: even though she was used to my witty, threatening comebacks, she hadn't been prepared for that one. She straightened her sundress and hustled out of the room quickly.

I sighed and held my forehead in my hands. I closed the door behind her, making sure the 'Keep Out' sign hadn't fallen. Running over to my closet, I dove into the small walk-in. I searched behind a sea of converse shoes and tennis shoes.

There, lying behind all those sneakers, was a little green box. I bit my lip and opened it quickly and silently. My fingers fumbled through the pictures and souvenirs I'd accumulated over the years. Finally, I felt the familiar texture: a worn out picture, it'd been touched so much.

My fingers shook and I excitedly pulled the picture out of a box.

There, right in my hands, was Ronni. He was the most perfect man on the planet... he was gorgeous, smart, adventurous, but a stupid little thing when it came to me. Now, you'd never suspect a girl, correction: tomboy, like me to fall in love with one of the most gorgeous and popular guys in school.

But, that's just how fair life is.

Ronni didn't even know I existed.
Actually, he knew very well I existed.
But he most likely hated me.

I had done so many horrible things to Ronni since I've been in school with him over the years. Apparently, a second grade kiss didn't mean anything. Because after that, Ronni skipped around between so many girlfriends, God couldn't even keep track. He was probably making more blonde little *GirlDogs* right now, just for Ronni.

After the second grade kiss, on the cheek, Ronni seemed to forget it by the time fourth grade rolled around.

I'd poured my chocolate milk on his head, my strawberry milk, and just for him, my sour milk. I've hit him so many times... probably even more times that how many girlfriends he'd skipped around between.

But I loved him secretly anyways. I've loved him ever since that little kiss. Which probably sounds extremely shallow... so, let's say, I hate him, but have intense feelings for him at the same time.

Because, you know, that makes sense.


I heard my bedroom door open and I stuffed Ronni's worn out picture back into the box. I threw the box behind my hanging clothes, hearing a satisfying thud as it hit the wall.

This time, my littler sister was the one who walked in.

"Ivyyyyyyy!" She called out.
"Whadayawant," I mumbled.

She'd just totally interrupted. Ugh.

"Momma said to come downstairs. 'mmediately," She instructed.

I folded my arms.

"A'ight," I agreed.
"Wait, she wants you to get dressed first," Basil mentioned.
"Uh, no. She only can ask for so much," I said, agitated.

My feet flew down the stairs and my hand help guide me down the steps. I jumped and landed at the foot of the steps. I walked into the kitchen, my too-long pajama pants getting stuck under my heels. My ears definitely heard the familiar clanging of pots and pans. I stuck my head in the kitchen.

"Hey, honey!" My mom smiled.
"Say it like you mean it," I said.

My mom frowned and returned to her regular ungrateful self.

"Alright, here's the jist," She explained, "I'm going to meet with a friend at her house. We're going to go to the book club we formed. She's going to bring her son over here and you guys can hang out. There's stuff to eat in the fridge and the pantry, just don't touch the soup or bread. Ai'ght, bye!" My mom screeched. As she explained, she got ready. Then, she went out the door to the car awaiting.

I saw a swift swipe of brown hair and knew exactly who was coming, even before he walked in the door.

Now here he was, standing in front of me.



Ronni.



- - - - - - -


I hope I didn't bore you too much, lol. XD
I think I'll bring Ivy, Iris and Ronni into a few more freewrites.
Thanks for reading!

Freewrite of 7/22/10
Maturity: High. Involves blood, a few bad words, and kidnapping.
Fantasy: Eh, reg? I guess it could happen, but it's kinda unlikely... xP

"Now, you stay here, or this-" he cut off, softly touching the tip of the freshly sharpened knife, "will go right through that pretty little head of yours."

I nodded. Scared out of my mind, I was frozen to the spot. I was bound by a rope to the back of a chair, and my arms and legs were reduced to nothing after being bound in duck tape for so long. My shoulder right shoulder throbbed . . . I'd tried to escape, without any luck. My kidnapper had put the knife right into my shoulder, without any regret or second thought. I winced at the thought now.

"Good. You've finally learned to understand, you pretty little girl, have you?" he asked, a grotesque smile plastered to his face.

I nodded again, unable to speak.

"Come on, little girl. Speak. I took the duck tape off of your mouth, didn't I?" he interrogated.

I nodded, before realizing what I'd done.

The kidnapper, soon to be known as The Nightmare, strode over to me, knife in hand.

"SPEAK TO ME!" he ordered, in such a loud voice that I was surprised the old house didn't fall to ashes.

"Okay," I managed to croak.

"Louder..." he said impatiently.

"OKAY!" I yelled.

"Good. Just make sure not to lose your temper again."

I struggled, and fought my tears. I wanted to get out of this situation so badly. I felt my tears coming back, ready to wage another war with myself. I fought them off for a few more moments before hanging my head, and crying uncontrollably. My shoulders shook. I knew that this would give my kidnapper a huge sense of satisfaction. I hate him for that. Actually, I hated him for a lot of things.

"Ahhh," he said, smiling again. "I see I've finally broken your little, delicate heart."

"No," I croaked, suddenly not caring whether I died or not. Whatever.

He strode over to me again, in that same scary way.

"I have, I have indeed," He assured me.
"No. I'm still strong. You haven't broken me."
"Then why are you crying?"
"Why's your face so ugly? Did I break it? Oh, no, it was like that before I punched you," I retorted, suddenly filled with rage.

He gasped at my defiance, and lifted the knife. I didn't even wince as he stuck it into my right shoulder again. Whatever. I almost could feel my heart turn to stone.

"How does that feel?" He asked coldly.
"Good," I shot back.

He glared at me behind his cold, seemingly black eyes. There was no emotion. None, whatsoever. I attempted to make my eyes look the same way, and succeeded.

He stuck it in my arm again, deeper. My shoulder began to seep with blood.

"How about that, darling?"
"Better."

My shoulder actually, honestly, didn't hurt. I could see the blood pouring from it, but I didn't care. Honestly. I knew I was going to die here, so I might as well do it with pride. I felt a bit dizzier now than I had before.

He continued to glare at me behind his emotionless eyes.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer," I spat.
"I don't need one of such an ugly little face," He retorted.
"At least mine is little, and not as flat as a pancake."
"Shuddup, you little *butt*."
"I don't have one anymore, remember? It's been strapped to this seat for three days. It probably doesn't remember what it feels like to be upright."
"Oh, do you want to be upright?" He asked me.
"Sure. If you want me to beat you up again, then run like I did before."

He picked up me and the chair I was in: he was actually quite strong, and he flung the chair with all the force he had. I slammed against the other wall: I hadn't been thrown that far, the house was actually one room, and very small. It was more like a shed.

The chair landed on top of me, and my head laid in an uncomfortable position on the floor.

"How'd that feel?" he asked me.
"Amazing."

Suddenly, with a surge of anger, I yelled and screamed. I must've looked like a madwoman, with my long, tangled hair plastered to my sweaty, red face. My green eyes must've looked red at that moment.

The man actually looked scared for a moment.
But then the emotion faded as quickly as it came.

He came across the room, and crouched down next to me. My neck was still bent uncomfortably against the floor.

Not to my amazement, he stuck the knife right in my neck.

"How does the feel?" he whispered nastily.
"Fantastic," I said, before the world swirled out of view.

And then I was in a golden place.
I'd made it to Heaven.