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Third Annual Writing Tournament Winners

by *TheFinalHikari, 3 days, 7 hours ago
Journals / Personal

First Place

The imminent menace of the wall above the townit grew upon the town-
cool and slimy,
slicked like saliva across the cobblestones
subtle : invasive, therefore
but slow and uncomfortable

looming high above the grey roofs,
it stretched eons in every direction
and so tall that it cracked the sky.

morning to evening shadows
so, so heavy-
wheezing laboured breaths
that trickled down covered necks,
icy…

dirty

the sun was blotted

as swift as a draft steals heat
long, dripping tongues
licked the walls
cracks, windowpanes, eaves
fountain square, around doorknobs
behind children’s ears,
down their chests
-and the smell grew,
adaptable yet
unchangingly repulsive

its lethargic feet

Premature Breakageam I safe, mother?
do I exis-

I spent months inside
a crimson dream, my head filled
with the rumbling melody
of your voice,

& the way your laughter
shook my entire body.

home is a part of your insides-

mother, can they operate the peace
out of your body?

I think my head is a bit diSor iEn T ate d
because my lungs are swimmi ng in fLui d
& I caN’t remember how to bre athe
like I ne ver have beF o Re.

I’m sorry for being a bad chil d

The Butterfly EffectHe had to know, by any means.

“I don’t want to listen-”
Ah. “I wonder about that sometimes.”

Madness is a defining trait,
arising from a solid 50% of
the human condition.

Only the right side, though, or so I thought;
or maybe in the spaces between letters
that language tells us identifies words
and he told me was only due to the fact
that the postman only
comes once a day.

I don’t know if I can always believe him.

He always wanted –
a light, a possibility
“What awaits at the farthest ends?"
The gentle ebb of the present quivered
and I wondered:
How do two people fit
into the

Second Place

~AnalexBeetleBum

Imminent MenaceI threw myself bodily against the door but bounced off like a rubber ball on cement. I wasn’t hurt; in fact, I was deposited safely in the center of the room as though I had never left it. For the sixteenth time.
“Fuck this!” I spat, my frustration finally getting the better of me.
“How colorful,” said a voice from nowhere that nearly made me jump out of my skin. I had thought I was alone.
I whirled around, looking for who had spoken, but saw no one. And it wasn’t like anyone could hide in here. Everything was either white, transparent, incredibly brightly lit, or some unsettling combination thereof.
“No, no. Up here,” said the voice again, and I looked up.
Standing atop the transparent roof of my cell was a young boy in rather sterile-looking white clothing. He looked down at me with a completely blank expression that only enhanced the overall creep factor of this place.
“Where am I? Why am I in here? What is this place, anyw

Sanctuary    “Welcome to Sanctuary,” said the unicorn.
    “Oh. Er. Yes. Thanks very much,” Justine replied.
    She was currently seated at a small, white wrought-iron table in what could only be described as the most picturesque garden she had ever seen. There were blossoming flowers everywhere, and butterflies, and a little stream whose quiet babbling was punctuated by vibrant birdsong. It was not what she had been expecting when she was directed to the Waiting Room. She awkwardly picked up the cup of tea the unicorn had just set upon the table before her. The china rattled as she took a sip. It was good.
    “Like it?” the unicorn asked.
    Justine nodded as she replaced the cup. “Yes. It’s quite good.”
    “Oh, good,” the unicorn smiled, “I was so worried that they had steeped it for far too long. Pi

What Lies BeyondOnce upon a time there was a little boy who lived all alone.
No one in his village knew why, for one day the boy had simply appeared, wandering aimlessly. When anyone asked him where he had come from or what had happened to his family he could not tell them, because, he said, he could not remember.
So the villagers let the little boy stay in their village, and they gave him an empty little hut on the edge of town to stay in, and the boy did odd jobs for the fishermen for food or a little coin. So the boy made a meager living, but he did not need much.
The boy did not play with the other children of the village, and the other children of the village did not play with the boy, because they thought the boy was strange. At night the boy would lie on the shore by himself and look up at the sky, and he would talk for hours and hours just as if someone were there with him even though no one was. And so the village children avoided the strange boy, and spoke in whispers whenever he walked past

Third Place

~EvilpixieA

Pearl Lined LaceMiss Annalaye Merrings was to be married at night, beside a shamefully brown boy, and before the barrel of her father's shotgun.
Lucy wove a crown of white flowers for herself and wore a dress that ended too soon revealing a stocky pair of muddy boots. "Annie," she tittered, "oh, Annie, you are going to be married! I've never been to a wedding before. Oh, he is a handsome boy. D-do you think one day someone will marry me? Oh, I hope so! I'll wear a big white dress covered in frills and bells! Will you come Annie? Oh, do come! Please!"
Annalaye smiled and nodded. She laced the neck of her simple white frock and scraped mismatched curls of hair from her eyes. Mother refused to let her wear grandmother's dress. It had been put aside for this day; aside, but never away. As the girl grew Annalaye had often crept into the wardrobe and boldly touched the pure white lace edged with pearl. To a child the billowing skirts were a beautiful testament to a beautiful future. But, as childh

Suffocate“I didn’t want him,” she says. “I wanted something, something I saw in the eyes of Libby, Sam, Sandi, and Agnes. Something that would have made our new world, our safe world, a home. Children were a part of that world and so I found myself a child. Perhaps, I thought, I would love him and everything would fall into place. Perhaps with a child I could be content with safety, and normality, and a world without knifes tapped on mob heads.” A cold smile. “I still catch myself thinking that. I still think that maybe tomorrow will be the day where I can fall asleep with the lights on.”
Carmen’s features are stark and cold; like the chiseled lines of soviet propaganda etched onto an icy street corner. A straight decided nose, high sharp cheekbones, and thin pinched lips. Her eyes are black. We sit together in a small, bare walled, room on a pair of fold up chairs.
I frown. “You mean off?”
“No. I mean on. During the wa

The Colour of DirtWar is the colour of a country’s dirt.

Here it is black.

“I don’t like the taste of this place,” he says. “It’s like the Devil sat down and farted.”

It rained from the sky for four hundred and forty three days. Black. Like tiny flakes of nothing. Tumbling, twirling, shards of the abyss.

“It’s the fish. The ash cover on the ocean has drowned them," she replies. "They’re washing up in mountains on the beach just over that hill. Tony and Clare took the big kids to see.”

It drifted from a storm stained sky to pile on rooftops until they crumbled and collapsed.

“Can’t drown a fish.”

It stuck to tongues and faces till everyone was a ghost with red rimmed eyes and gray hair.

“Help me with this will yo--” a fit of coughing. Spit. “Sorry. I can’t seem to stop doing that.”

It coloured between teeth like tho

Honorable Mention

~BlackMoon129

Penny Bronze and Clover GreenI’ve never had a good luck charm before; I’ve never had much luck with luck at all, actually. I’ll squint up at the stars and they’ll twinkle back disapprovingly, as if I’m the reason their alignment is all wrong. I forgive them because I know the feeling.

You were appalled when I told you, because you were the type of person with clover stained fingers and pockets full of horseshoes. Superstitious beyond belief, all wishbones and scarabs, like something out of the stories you always told me.

You used to spend hours at flea markets and festivals talking to ladies with gnarled fingers and tarot cards. I went wit

AphoticShe doesn’t know why people are afraid of the dark. Crouched in the corner of her closet she thinks, it is safe here. It’s cool and quiet and she won’t ever have to see anything bad happen. She feels better already.

---

The first time it happens, there is a countdown and the sound of people scattering. Someone shoves her out of the way as they run past, and she shoves back because she will not be the one person left after all the good hiding spots have been taken. Not that it matters. By the time fourteen…thirteen…twelveeleventen reach her ears everyone else has disappeared. The urgency of the game makes her

On Giving UpI.
My father is losing hair and missing sleep but he never seems so old as when my mother gets a look in her eyes that screams she has not learned to grow up yet.

He looks at red eyes and deaf ears
the face of a three-year-old when my mother is forty
and thinks
is this all?

I do not know much about love but I don’t think it sounds like disappointment and frustration in the form of slammed doors and tired sighs.

II.
The tantrums
because that's what they are
last for hours.

I used to keep track, because I thought it was important somehow
Twice this week now, eight instances in the last month alone

But no one counts the number of ti

Honorable Mention

~RoseScarlet

Imminent MenaceHeart
beats
like
the
drum
he's holding
See
through
the
darkness
the light
has gone
Heart
beats
you
can't
be sure
anymore
Feeling
tingles
lingers
drifts

BloomWinter's diamond snow has gone
From dry dust arises a gleam of gold
h for sunlight
c
a
e
R

they sing silent songs of joy
hear it in the wind, the trees
endless gardens, endless sky
light from the darkness
For wilted forsythias do not exist here

and we will still be beautiful.        Death. is inevitable.
There is the

            Beauty in your blurry snowstorm eyes and
            my broken copper wires bleed words
        Of
our/my faded dreams and    your tears

            Beauty will never be lifeless, so I won’t really be gone. We. Us.
drip drop

Congratulations to our wonderful winners!

Prizes!

First Place

Three Month dA Subscription

100 Points

Member of the Month feature at #Writers--club
Commission from =Christianonfire7
Poem from *TheFinalHikari
Poem or short story from ~BlazeJuliaNightfury
Feature at #Live-Love-Write
Feature at #xWritersUtopiax
Journal Feature from =Christianonfire7

Second Place

150 Points

Third Place

100 Points

Honorable Mentions

20 Points

Poem or short story from ~BlazeJuliaNightfury
Feature at #Writers--club
Feature at #Live-Love-Write
Feature at #xWritersUtopiax

We thank you all for your participation and hope that you will look forward to our next event.

26 Comments

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Member of the Month

Our newest member feature for goes to

!

She has published her book named Dominion Legacy: The Book of Grace, the first in the series.

Struggling to make ends meet at a dead-end job, Grace’s life was stuck. Until one lonely and snowy night, Grace came across a man who needed her help. With a soft spot for strays, Grace was unable to leave him to an uncertain fate. Grudgingly, she extended a helping hand and took him in with her, unwittingly allowing herself to be dragged into his world.

On the run for weeks, Eli had been hunted by an unknown enemy who hounded him at every turn. He managed to find temporary safety with a woman willing to open her home to him for no other reason that he asked for help. Now the two of them have to work together, not only to escape Eli’s mysterious pursuers, but to keep each other alive.

"The Book of Grace" is the first installment of the "Dominion Legacy", a modern fantasy series about a dangerous mystery, deadly enemies, and the echoes of an ancient conflict. - From Lulu.com

The paperback version is available to purchase from Lulu here: [link]

The ebook is available to purchase from Lulu here: [link]

Her advice to fellow writers is...

"I suppose my best advice is to write CONSTANTLY and read as much as possible. With the writing, even if you think it's rough, or not good, or even garbage, just keep writing. One day you'll see that maybe it all wasn't good, but it was all PRACTICE, and after all, the more you practice, the better you get. All writing it useful. With the reading, you learn more and more about how others explore the world through their writing, and it can open up venues and possibilities that you didn't think possible. "

Dominion Legacy: The Book of Grace (Ch.1 Preview)

Chapter One

The dull gray light of the January afternoon had long since given way to an ominous night sky that hung low and swollen over the small city of Stroudsburg. The inky blackness of the dark sky was marred only by the subtle shades of ash as clouds crowded across the heavens, effectively blocking off any hope of star or moonlight. The air had turned icy and hard, a bitter cold wind whipping over the streets to create the ideal conditions for the snow that had begun to fall shortly after night had descended. Winter conditions had conspired to create the most miserable night imaginable, and Grace was stuck at work.

The young woman sig

Falling SnowSnowflakes fell swollen and heavy beyond the thick glass of the window, blanketing the ground in soft layers. Nothing disturbed the silence and serenity of the falling snow.

Jane wasn't sure which she was looking at as she stood at the window, sipping the dark wine from the glass in her hand. Perhaps it was the snow falling outside? It was either that or the vague image of her reflection in the window's glass. In all actuality, it didn't really matter. Her mind wasn't on the present; it was in the past. Twenty years in the past.

It had been a night just like the one she was witnessing as she stood at the window: cold and snowy. A younger, c

Valkyrie Cross - Chapter One

CHAPTER ONE
It was a hot day, but a welcome breeze brought the temperature down to a level pleasant enough to bring young and old out onto the deck of the airship. Feathery clouds drifted aimless across the azure blue sky and the sound of the ship's engines did nothing to drown out the buoyant tone of children's laughter.

A young woman stood leaning against the rail, her dark eyes watching the playful antics and her lips curved in a smile that betrayed her youth. She had just turned eighteen but her father often told her that she was eighteen going on forty. Though considering his own years numbered past forty, they both had an awful large

Please check out the rest of her wonderful gallery too!

Past featured members:
~Mexmrslovett ~GhuneiM ~Spasm101 *TheFinalHikari ~ShouldEverBeForgot ~SunshineAndDaisies ~Bebopboy *Iniphineas ~Fwe ~EvilpixieA ~missbagel ~Jadite ~Hildetann ~CollectTheBroken *Carmalain7 ~EternalSunday *GreyBird4 ~Treo-LeGigeo ~Ysabetwordsmith *Iniphineas *Christa-Kinde

Comments

~Reactor9Studios 3 days ago Professional Writer

I must go out on a limb, since I haven't contributed anything to this group yet, I figured I'd at least talk about "Writing" and such here in the comment section.

For me I was never really into writing full books, but much more interested in the idea of film production since I prefer movie material over reading books. I can get easily bored looking at words versus seeing everything in action on a screen. I've seen a lot of movies, and read a few books. Granted books are great when you can read them out loud to someone, but just sitting there reading in your head that kind of distracts and bores the crap out of me. So as a kid, I use to read to other kids that couldn't read at all.

It was fun that way, as I got older. I find it difficult to find a book to stick with unless the content in it is really crazy and just out there and if it's too long? lol well I already know I won't care to finish reading it. I guess all the years of reading RL STINE teen horror novels like the Fear Street series was fun both in my preteen years and early adulthood life mostly because the books weren't that long, and they got straight to the point with who killed who, or who the prime suspect was unlike your 300 page mystery/crime novels. Granted the words and conversations between the characters seem a hell of a lot cheesy and corny now simply because they were teens, characters appear a little to teen cliche like and I suppose I never noticed that before.

However, I've been writing short tales for a long time, ever since I got into the visual art form I enjoyed the work i've been doing thus far. However, it is a real challenge of getting yourself known with new material that people aren't familiar with. The problem is, most authors write books they hate or creating material they dislike
but they do it because its what the consumers want to read. I would hate to write sh*t I didn't like just to make a living. I prefer to write what I like to write and still get the reaction from others that loved reading it.
Writers should enjoy the material they create, not just for profit but also have something that they can be proud of.
I've met a few writers who talk about how much they hate their published work, but did it because it's what the readers wanted to read, and that once you become a writer you're not really in it for yourself, your in it to create what the readers, audience, and consumers want to buy and read or else you won't make much from it.
I believe unless your the type of author who create the work that YOU like, and can still somehow convince readers to accept something new and different, then you have a loyal fan-base that truly appreciates something daring and risky.
I've always wanted to publish a book related to a lot of the work I've been doing, always. But never had the patience to write on a superb professional level where I can freely write without having to look in a dictionary every minute to find out what certain descriptive words mean.
I mean sure writing for kids is easy, and writing teen novels is easy too.
Yet my ideas presented in my gallery with the work that I do visually is proof that I definitely can create invigorating ideas. From what I know, Romance and Fantasy novels sell more than any other genre there is. At least here in the United States.

(2 Replies)

*Art-of-the-Seraphim 5 days ago Professional General Artist

Hey just curious, when will you post up the winners for the writing tournment?

(2 Replies)

~Sithwolf-07 Jun 12, 2013 New member

I feel like such a noob xD, I don't know how to submit art so I'll sit down.

(2 Replies)

~kimrimiphantomhive Jun 9, 2013

Could I submit this story here? [link]

*BGShepard Jun 9, 2013 New member Hobbyist Traditional Artist

Thanks for the add!

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