This contest is specifically made to literally break my heart into pieces so much that I can't put it back together and must stay in my bed forever (please note that I am very much kidding).
The guidelines for submissions are romantic, sad, sweet, heartbreaking, OR anything that tugs at the heart. IT DOES NOT HAVE TO BE A ROMANCE DESPITE THE THREAD TITLE. It can be anything you want as along as it makes me feel something. You can literally have as much fun with this as you want. It could even be a thriller/mystery.
The limit range is 3 - 900 words. Of course your story is a little bit over (or somehow less), I will still accept it. It can be in any form (poem, fiction, etc.).
1st place - All poetry commented and an appropriate rating, three fiction pieces commented and an appropriate rating, and I will personally select two of your pieces to advertise to my group of fellow writers (they are on another website).
2nd place - Two pieces of poetry and fiction (Total of four) commented (with critique in it) and an appropriate rating
3rd place – Two pieces of fiction and/or poetry commented and rated
Obviously the first place prize is the best out of all them so I would suggest that you try your very best because I am very willing to advertise to my other group of writers (I’m just going to refer to them as this). When I advertise pieces on that website, usually about 50 people go to check it out, so at the very least you will get a lot of views.
***Rules, information, and prizes are subject to change at anytime during the contest period.
***Questions can be asked for more information (obviously)
***Fiction prizes can be substituted for any other piece you want.
Deadline is at 15 submissions or February 20th, 2013.
You proably said already, but I can't find it, how many can we summit?
Nope I didn't say it, but you can submit a max of two, but it would perfect if you could send one so that more people can enter. But once the deadline comes up and submissions are low, you can submit two or three.
I would like to sumitt my story, The Slave's Secert, but it's not up yet so i'll paste it here.
The Slave's Secert
“I don’t… know!” I said through gritted teeth. He twisted my arm farther up my back stinging my eyes with tears. I felt his hot breath on the back of my neck making chills run up my spine.
“Give it to me boy. I know you were there. You know it’s not allowed to keep things from your master.” His voice was silky, mocking me. I couldn't let him find out! It would certain death for me and she would only be half alive by the time they were done.
“Let him go, Larry. Kid’s probably got fleas anyway.” Dan looked at me in disgust. “We can get it from our neighbors, they spy enough they probably saw.” Larry pushed me to the ground and spat on the back of my knee. Cradling my arm and trying not to show that he had caused me such pain I scrambled up and stood straight with my arm close to my body. Not able to verify my lie I wiped my face of all emotion.
“Go on black boy. Leave!” Larry screamed at me. I felt helpless; I wouldn't even be able to protect her. I turned and ran to the stables, I had my own little corner in there where I felt I could think without everyone able to see my thoughts. I held my arm close to by body, and checked it over. Deciding it wasn't broken, I leaned against the damp wooden wall to think.
Brooding over the mater wasn't going to change facts: they were going to find out no matter how strong I was. How sweet last night was, those seconds of complete freedom. Escaping the pain of the present my mind sent me back to the night before.
Around midnight I was carrying water to the cows in the barn. My name is Leo. No last name, that was illegal for slaves. I am 17 and enslaved in Nebraska, not the most unique place there is. Farm after farm that’s all there is to it.
I was about halfway to the barn when a shadow loomed out of the darkness. Scared I backed up a step sloshing half the water on myself.
“Oh I’m sorry.” A girl of 16 stepped out of the shadows staring at my now drenched shorts. She stepped tentatively towards me as if to help. I knew this girl; she was my master’s (Larry’s) daughter, Flo. She was about 5’4, 3 inches shorter than me, long black hair and big green eyes.
Head down I said, “It’s alright miss.” I meant to continue on my way but she blocked my path staring away into the distance. “Do you ever believe that there is more to life than just this?” Something in her tone made me hesitate to say my automatic answer; No miss, goodnight miss. She wanted the truth.
“Yes.” I said simply. Suddenly she started to cry, small barely audible sobs. I didn't know what to do, my first instinct would be to put my arm around her but it was forbidden. I took a deep breath and put my arm around her shoulders.
“It’s alright miss-“
“Stop that!” she said mindlessly. “Don’t call me miss. I hate that.” Taken aback I murmured trying to calm Flo down.
Finally she pulled away gulping down her sobs. “Thank you…”
“Leo. It’s Leo.” I said a little freaked out that I had actually touched her.
“Thank you Leo. It’s been awhile since anyone has been that kind to me.” We both stood there awkwardly. Suddenly I didn't want her to leave. I longed to… no I couldn't, it was downright stupid.
I slowly set down the bucket I was still holding. I was well aware that she was still quite close. “I do hope that this isn’t all there is.” She suddenly looked up into my eyes. Slowly my hand snaked down and around her neck. My eyes closed as my lips found hers. Flo’s arms wrapped around me and pulled me closer to her.
I wrenched my mind out of the past and groaned. Someone must have seen us, to the master kissing another slave is something to laugh about, but kissing blacks and whites kissing, that was a crime. From the sound of it, all the person who saw us could see was two people kissing, but they must have saw the contrast of our skin. However it happened, they knew a white and a black were kissing. If he found out that the black was kissing his daughter...
Both of us will be punished. Flo will be severely punished, hurt enough she will regret ever learning my name, but she'll live. I, however, am a different matter. Execution by fists is what I’ll get.
I sighed again resisting the goading voice in my head telling me to give up and die here. Abruptly I sat bolt upright at the sound of heavy footfalls.
“LEO! Leo help!” At the sound of Flo’s voice I rushed out of the barn. Flo was running straight towards me with Larry and Dan following. I seethed seeing Larry was carrying a crowbar, he was going beat out of her who kissed her.
“Flo! Down to the riverbed!” She changed her direction slightly sprinting to the riverbed, I sprinted up to her and we ran together.
“So it was you, ya brat!” Dan's heavy breath could be heard a mile away.
I indulged to my naturally sharp tongue, “Not one for orations are you? Right to the point.”
“Get back here black boy so I can twist your limbs off!” Larry’s face was probably a mask of murder right now. I didn't dare look back.
We were pulling ahead. We had about 50 yards between us now and 10 till the riverbed. We got to the riverbed and I rustled around in the underbrush. Finding a small canoe for one fill with emergency rations, I pulled it out and pushed into the water. It was for slaves who needed a quick escape. I should say slave, singular.
They were only 20 yards behind. I turned to Flo and put my hands on either side of her face and kissed her quickly. Keeping my hands where they were I told Flo, “Take this and go as far as you can.”
“I’m not leaving you-“
“You have to, go!” I physically picked her up and plopped her into the canoe. I pushed it out as far as I could go. The rapids did the rest.
“LEO!” Flo screamed tears streaming down her face, her hair blowing into her face from the wind. I watched her go with no regrets as I felt Larry’s arms wrap around me.
I hope this breaks your heart, because it broke mine to write it.
The Final Bullet
I am at his bedside constantly, though he is unconcious, and doesn’t know I am here. But maybe that is a good thing, because I can’t stand to let people see when I’m beside myself with anxiety. The snake bite, so small compared to the wrist it had clamped down on, has spread like a black spiderweb throughout his forearm. I’ve had plenty of bites, but none like that, and I can’t make myself believe that he will recover.
The doctor ducks beneath his leather flap of a door, his dark hair disheveled, and his young face worn with anxiety. He steps onto the old, wooden floor, and his footsteps creak as he shifts his weight.
“Meridian, I need to speak with you,” he summons me in a grim voice, and I know what I’m about to hear. Even so, I stand up, my limbs aching from disuse, and follow the doctor around the corner of his house. Tears are already gathering in my eyes, but the doctor appears emotionless. Maybe that’s what spending your life watching people die does to you.
“I know it, and I think you know it too, Meridian, when I say Antonio’s got no chance of living. I don’t want him to continue to suffer with the hope that he’ll make it through this mess, so you’re going to have kill him quickly. Yourself.”
Even though I expected this from the moment I dragged Antonio away from the snake that bit him, I still go numb with the shock of hearing it out loud, somehow making it all the more real. I can’t protest the facts when I hear them from somebody else, especially a doctor. My heart jumps out of my chest and is no longer functional, but my brain is, and my brain is bobbing my head up and down in somber agreement.
“What--” I gulp down a wave of tears. I haven’t let another person see me cry since I was a child, and I don’t intend to let that change. “What do you suggest?”
He eyes the shotgun strapped to my belt, loaded with the bullet that I promised I would send through a lousy outlaw’s heart. It is the bullet that shot me, and the bullet I placed my vows of revenge upon. “I suggest that you send that last bullet of yours through his head, and have it done with.” This time, not even my mind can agree.
“Do it yourself,” I mutter through a mouthful of salty tears that have trailed down my cheeks since the doctor first started talking. He shakes his head sorrowfully.
“Doctors in these parts have to swear on our honor not to use a gun.”
My blue-gray eyes narrow spitefully and I snap, “Well private eyes in these parts have to swear not to base their cases on personal grudge, and look at me! I’ve been traveling far and wide with only one recycled bullet in my rifle, searching for the man that shot me!” My golden hair is laden with dust and nips at my face as I swivel my head around to glimpse Antonio.
But the doctor remains perfectly calm. “Listen, Meridian. I know you love him; I can see it in your eyes.”
“I’m not that expressive,” I huff in exasperation.
The doctor holds his hand up for silence. “But he’s a goner, and he at least needs to go painlessly. Now you’ve got darn good aim for a young woman like yourself, and a darn sharp mind, so I expect you do do what’s right.”
My breath is shaking, but the choice is no longer in my hands. My fingers grip the handle of my gun, loaded with the bullet that pierced my own skin. Maybe this is fated, for Antonio to feel the same bullet that nearly killed me, as if it connects us, even beyond this life. My fingers tighten on the trigger, and my dry, cracked lips touch his forehead.
I feel his leathery, exhausted hand push my wrist, and the gun, towards his head. “Do it,” he whispers. “Please, Meridian. If you love me, do it.” A sigh escapes my mouth, and I feel my hand tighten over Antonio’s hand, and over the trigger. I push down on it, and shot rings out, deafening me in the small space of the doctor’s hut.
Antonio’s hand falls slack.
The Death Song of a Lonely Soul
Hiding is my identity
the shadows are my friends
quiet is my haunting spirit.
My soul was scorched by the fire
that still burns in my mind.
I have been pushed away from love and
hidden behind lies.
Nightfall is when I can hide
yet by day in bitterness I reside.
My heart is like a wilting flower
it dies one petal at a time.
Some prayers will never be answered
and some dreams are eternally deferred.
Be not this terrible curse for I never need
feel the pain because no matter the happenstance
or the cruelty, hiding will forever be my identity.
Here are some song lyrics I wrote. Consider them similar to the tune of "Breath" by Taylor Swift.
you were my h20 my oxygen
you were the heart beating in my chest.
Its my fault
never fall in love with a man who cheats.
Its my fault
never fall in love with a man who lies
Yet it’s still killing me to watch you leave after our lives.
The way your tugging on my heart.
It hurts and I can’t stand it anymore.
I’m just a filter for your selfishness
a receiver for your hate.
you needed me and I thought I needed you.
I must admit that I felt myself slipping away.
In my heart I knew it wouldn't work.
But I still believed that
It was my pride that always kept me hangin on.
People said it couldn't work I thought I'd Prove them wrong.
But one day I realized you’d stolen my best times.
I said I want them back you said you didn’t care.
Yet every day I lied to myself saying
But I know it was never about me.
You were a cheater and a manipulator.
I was fastened tight into your web of lies.
You crushed me like a bug with a newspaper
Yet my wings grew back and I realized without I could still fly.
Now I know that you weren't my h2o or oxygen
and my hearts beating fine without you.
And I now know it’s not my fault that you're a cheater.
I now know I don’t have to take the blame for all your lies.
Even though life has passed on at least now I can start living it again.
ohh ohhhhhh you're a cheater oh ohhhh and a liar ohhh oh ohhhhh and I’lll never see your face again.
This certainly makes me feel something, but it usually makes me feel nostalgic for an expedition that is long past.
I remember streams
Flowing down their mountain paths
Through August-blooming wildflowers
I remember stone
Towers that bound the earth to the sky
Tearing upwards from the desert
I remember trees
Branches bending to greet us
Leaves caressing our faces as we passed
I remember storms
The crashing of thunder above our heads
So close from where we lay
I remember stars
Filling the sky with the light
Of a thousand fireflies
I remember darkness
Enveloping us like a cloak
As we trekked through early morning cold
I remember desert
The crackle of dry grass
That left pebbles caught in our shoes
I remember fire
A late night reassurance
That our journey was not over
I remember basins
Running with sudsy water
The reward for five days of dusty faces
I remember Mount Whitney
From bottom to top we climbed and then descended
With our pride if not our reason
I know she has been drinking,
My life I can’t stop it from sinking,
I hear her scream and yell,
When this terror will end I cannot tell,
Not a soul knows of my pain,
I’ve felt it for so long I’ve gone insane,
I stand here scared and shaking,
She says it is my future she is shaping,
I sleep in the basement,
For that place is my in casement,
I have nothing to sleep on,
I get up early and work till the break of dawn,
I try my best to keep her happy,
But if I don’t she will slap me,
No one at school knows of this,
I can’t recall the last time mama gave me a kiss,
I clean all day,
But if I don’t for I will surely pay,
Even when I do the beatings still come,
Oh mama what have I done,
To make you beat me like this,
For it’s the old you that I miss,
I don’t understand what made you change,
To me this house is my cage,
When I leave I feel so free,
Knowing that when I get home you will be mad at me,
For what I do not know,
Maybe that’s how your love shows,
Where is the old mama I used to love,
Has god taken her with him up above,
I always wonder how much more of this I can take,
For god’s sake,
I’m lying here bleeding,
Is it my death you are seeking,
From your blows I fall,
Wishing that there is someone I can call,
Someone that I may confide this secret,
Someone who I know will keep it,
I don’t wish to get mama in trouble,
For if I do her life will crumble,
When I’m alone I get on my knees and pray,
Wishing there was someone of this I could say,
Then I hear a voice,
I wonder if this is by choice,
It says to me,
My dear child can’t you see,
Not only are you my child but my friend,
For this is surly not the end,
There is a thing called the abuse victim hotline,
All of this will turn out just fine,
For there is someone I will send,
They will take you and your broken bones they will mend,
For this place you will leave behind.