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  • Fiction > Realistic Fiction
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    I elbowed my way past countless people dotting the streets of London, my backpack slithering off my shoulder as I did so. Snippets of random conversations floated into my ears as I dodged into another street, relief flushing over me. I could breathe again. Droplets of sweat lined the back of my neck...
  • Fiction > Realistic Fiction
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    Humidity hung thick in the air, beads of sweat dripping from my forehead. I blew the hair from my face and pulled it all back into a ponytail as I watched them crowd together, clapping their hands in time to the music. There were about 40 children living at the orphanage. Some were just babies, eyes...
  • Fiction > Realistic Fiction
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    “You make me happy,” his breath brushed my ear as he whispered the words, his tone soft, gentle. Brandon had spent the day at my house, charming compliments escaping his mouth every couple of minutes. He’d picked out the movie himself, a romantic comedy, plenty of excuses for me to feel his si...
  • Fiction > Realistic Fiction
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    Dazzling traffic lights flickered all around, mesmerising me. I couldn’t quite believe I was actually here. I’d really done it. My biggest dream – well, it had come true. I pressed down on the pedal, butterflies tingling in my stomach as the car rode forward, up the busy street, past the grand...
  • Fiction > Realistic Fiction
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    My toes tingled, sinking into the damp sand as the soft waves kissed my feet, coating them with a thin layer of refreshingly cool salt water. I watched the horizon, the last pale coloured rays reflecting onto the water, glimmering through the evening air. I tossed my flip flops behind me, noticing I...
  • Fiction > Realistic Fiction
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    I ran. That’s all there was to do. Run. The drenched concrete sliced at my bare feet as I cursed myself for not bringing any shoes. There wasn’t time. I grabbed the umbrella and left, without glancing back. I couldn’t bare the look on her face, the disappointment gleaming in her hazelnut eyes....
  • Fiction > Realistic Fiction
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    It was too heavy to be a knife. Definitely too heavy. I could tell by the droplets of sweat the rolled off his palms, plummeting down to the concrete, slowly melting the winter ice that had blanketed the pavement. He hid his struggle as he moved forward, turning back towards me every now and again, ...
  • Fiction > Realistic Fiction
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    I crouched behind the car, trying not to make a sound. I knew that if I moved now, I would blow it, I would blow everything. The wind hissed all around, shielding the burning rays of the sun that summer morning. This was it. Any minute now. Dusty soil seeped from the bottom of the flowerpot as he li...
  • Fiction > Realistic Fiction
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    I didn't plan to steal his wallet. I mean, I really didn’t. I didn’t wake up this morning and think “oh, we could really do with some money right now, let me just rob some off the next man who passes by.” I didn’t think that, although it’s true. We really could do with some money. I...
  • Fiction > Realistic Fiction
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    Icy drops drowned the strands of my thin mousy brown hair as I ran down the street, regretting the decision to not bring an umbrella with me this morning. I could barely hear the clattering of my stiletto heels as I dodged the puddles and potholes, screaming apologies over my shoulder whenever I ran...
  • Fiction > Romance
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    His touch was so gentle as he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me closer towards him, intimate enough to feel his heart pounding, each beat perfectly matching my own. Holding my breath, I bit my lip, knowing that this was the moment I had been waiting for, this was it. The warmness of his skin s...
  • Fiction > Realistic Fiction
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    Inside the envelope was a four-leaf clover. I pulled it out, trying to be as gentle as possible, running my fingers over the soft silk like green texture. My hands were trembling, as was my lip, my whole body fighting to keep the tears from rolling down my face. But then it came. That one final gasp...
  • Fiction > Realistic Fiction
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    We were sitting at the breakfast table when we got the news. The news that changed me. My little brother got more orange juice on the table than in his mouth, and my mum was frantically trying to rip a piece of kitchen towel to wipe it off. Yawning, I rubbed my dark chestnut eyes, attempting to wake...

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