top!

Haven't been on here in a hot minute but I felt compelled to check and who am I to turn down a contest?

I hope poetry's okay?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

her light is a dancing glint on night time countertops

whiteness bounding from granite to the irises of passerby

she is silent but her words are thundering

freedom echos throughout her shine

breathes filled with fresh honey crisp air

she sits alone

surrounded by all the galaxy

she casts spells through her gaze

wrapping her finger around me

a siren's voice; infinite eyes 

enchanting beams of her extended arms 

take my hands 

I dance in her light

loose beneath her

my limbs act on their own accord

I bathe in the presence

my worries drowned

from tides she throws in

the same tides she uses for destruction

horrid nightmares turned reality

pull me in

they are light

strung around my heart, I am summoned to her

she exhales 

I inhale

my body tingles with familiar feellings of home

running fingers through fairy lights of contallations 

the little dipper is much bigger in person

warmth fills me

warmth is me

she pulls me in 

feet touching fantasy white sand

the forbidden ocean without a sea

a forbidden women destined to the night

to the unforgiving dark with other the stars 

and me 

Okay! Here are the results. It was really hard to decide, and also I only went top 2 because I can't decide the order after that. All of the entries were wonderful and I wish I could give them all 1st place, but I have to pick one so: 

Honarable Mentions(Not in any order!)

larryboy: This story was great! I loved the descriptions and how we learn a lot about the charactar early on. Its also written really well, and everything just flows.  The only thing is that it would be nice if we could have a bit more of an explanatioin as to who Caspian is and what he's doing, but it was great! 

Spellbound: This was a great story, I think it was easy to understand yet still written well. It would be good if it was a bit longer, like if there was more of a climax or more action, but that is just my prefrences. Overall, great!

Blackfooted Bobcat: This was written wonderfully! The descriptions and, yet again, the way the story flows is beautiful! It was pretty confusing, though, so it would nice if there was a bit more explanation or backstory, or in a different format then the journal entries.. Or maybe that makes sense to everyone else and it's just me. But again, your story was overall great!

2nd Place:

Rainbow Riot: This story was wonderful. It was like a song, with rythym and highs and lows, tense parts and slow parts and sad parts. I wish we could have seen valerie more in the begining of the story, or had some more development with her, but again the story was beatiful! 

1st place!!

Annabeth C: This peom was so much better than anything I could have ever written! It was written in verse, and yet it had an abstract yet solid story line. And it captures the theme/prompt perfectly! I don't know how you can make such good poetry!   

I hope it's okay that I picked a poem for first place- because its the only poem. Thank you to everyone who submitted!!  Good job, y'all are great writers.

Sorry for being so late Drivers ed started and uh, ah. 

But I'd be happen to judge!

The theme for this next compition is: The forrest —- I'm thinking August 1st is a good deadline? let me know if we should extend it though 🙂 

The Forest is a dangerous place.

You don't need legends to know that. Just looking at the bright colours and strange shapes of the leaves and vines, twining around trees and other plants' stalks, as if trying to strangle them, tells you more than any simple warning could.

You feel there's more to those large, poison-soaked leaves, too. They're meant to hide something. You can hear it every time you turn away, in each time you step closer; curious at what lies within, but knowing you're too afraid to venture any deeper than the thick grasses at the entrance.

They know it too. They're laughing at you, mocking you behind their petty disguises, only to flit away; just a fleeing shadow left for your eyes every time you strike out at the canopy with a stick.

And yet their chatter betrays them. You know they're there, thinking they'll be so secure forever. Hidden from the world because of their weakness and cowardice. Repulsive. 

You'll show them.

Everyone in the village tells you to mind your own business, to leave them alone. But by the gods, you'll show them.

Yes, you'll show them.

That's why you don't flinch when the stick falls from your hand. It's why your face remains calm when angry orange bleeds into the sky, stealing, or perhaps only reclaiming, the clear purple's throne. It's why something deep inside dances as the stars change from white, to red, to black, obscured by thick grey clouds pouring up. It's why a soft laugh pours from your lips when you see the tongues of flame lick at the heavens, forest ablaze.

Yes, that'll teach them. 

Admins, my story is pretty long- its 2 and a half pages on google docs. I know sometimes people post long threads by putting in half of the thing replying with the rest of it, so I don't know if I should do that, but maybe mine isn't very long in comparison, I'm not sure. What do you think?

Do it either way, whichever you prefer or is easier for you. It's the same amount for me to read either way. I suppose as a Chatterbox reader, I'd rather have it all in one. I like to keep going till the end!

Admin

Ok, thanks! Sorry it's so long, but here it is:

There are 3 things I know about myself that will never change: I am never going back. I will never feel that fear again. I used to be known as a woodswomen. The rest changes, the longer I am out here. Some parts of me fly away with the wind, and new parts nestle in like the dirt that has turned my hair brownish gray. I used to be regular. I used to be Theodora. I used to live in a city and I used to have a father who taught me all about who I was. But I don't know who I am anymore. I think it flew away with the wind.

There were, there are, many woodsmen who live in that city, just like the watermen and earthmen and skymen. It runs through the men's side of the family, which, I think, is why I still have that dim memory of being rare and special. I was a woodswomen. I remember that woodsmen have a certain way, a certain power, with wood and with trees. I used to know everything they did. Now, I only know two: They can shape wood in anyway they want with only a blade. They can kill with one strike of an axe. I whittle most days. I sit up in my tree of the forest, whittling only sticks I find on the ground. The ones that are already dead. My father, one day, decided to show me how woodsmen get more wood than just the sticks they find on  the ground. But with the first strike of his axe… the tree screamed and thrashed, its pain almost a part of me. My father tried to comfort me. He carried me away from the tree until I could be convinced that it was over. But that fear… that fear echoes in me, even today. My fear, the tree's fear? I don't know. All I know is that no one else in the city could hear it. They decided I was weak. But they couldn't feel the fear the way I could. It was tearing me apart. It still is. It's why I ran away. 

"Theodora? Theodora!?!" The word cuts through the forest like a blade. But it only cuts air, so I soupouse only skymen would feel any pain. It does cut me out of my cycle of thoughts, my wave of memories, which I have been  drowning in for a very long time. "Theodora?" The blade comes again, but this time I recognize it, a bit. Where have I heard it before? Theodora. I don't know that I said it until I hear it echoing. My voice is semi-familiar. I haven't heard it in a very long time. "Is that you?" the blade asks, this time less sharp. Not dull. Just less sharp. But me? I don't know. Who is the blade talking about? Me? I wouldn't know. I don't know who I am myself. But there doesn't seem to be anyone else here, so I answer "I don't know who you are talking about. But I'm here, and I'm somebody". I think. I add quietly. And then I hear my own echo. I haven't talked so coherently in- I don't know. I don't know how to measure time anymore.

 Footsteps and laughter echo through the meadow. "Come down, Theodora!" is the blade's next slice, but it's more like a launched pebble mixed with all the newfound noise. “There’s no one else here”, I say, my voice falling to them like sand and sounding like it too. I’ve paired the footsteps and the laughter with the blade, and now I know there is someone down there. Who, though? The squirrel’s guess is better than mine. Of course, the squirrel scampers away on the next movement the person makes, which brings them into view. I haven’t seen a person in so long. Too long. She is slightly familiar. She is perfect, somehow, I don't know how. She drove me crazy, but I loved her. I crinkle my eyebrows. How do I know this? But the thought is washed away by the tsunami that says I need to tell her. She needs to know. Love her, Love her. I don't know what she says after that. All I know is that she needs to know. Eventually, as night falls, she seems to give up. She sighs and walks away. She can't leave and I know it. But how can I tell her? The forest falls silent again as she is gone. The rest of the night my mind just replays her. I don't know why I love her. It's not an emotion. I just know I should. She needs to know. How can I tell her? Hearts mean love, don't they. I can make anything with wood. And just like that, I forget the fear. All I care about is her, it's an obsession. My brain is immune to the fear as I sharpen my blade, as I climb down from the tree I've spent so much time in. Thwack. Thwack. Thwack. I can't hear the, my, tree screaming. How do you make a heart? I don't know. One last strike and the tree, my safe haven, my only friend, is gone. I sleep. 

When I wake up, I see the stump of the tree, still raw and green from its… death. My heart doesn't have room for hating the girl that made me cut it down. My throat fills with sadness. Sadness, because I loved that tree. The emotion spreads through my body like sunshine. And the love melts the ice that has buried me for so long. 

The tree can still regrow, I know. I can water it and nutrize it and help it stay healthy. I am a woodswoman. I love all trees.

And I can't, I won't, cut down another tree. Not because of  fear. Because of love.

The girl comes later, after I realize I never should have obsessed over her at all. I just love her. I now know that she is my sister, Cassandra. That information was under the ice that the love melted. It came back in the rush of ice water that reminded me of everything about my old life. The love creates new pathways, to, and I realize just how much I have about even my messed up life to love. The trees, the leaves, the animals, the ground. Myself. I guess I wasn't blowing away, I was just buried.

My sister smiles when she sees my tree, which has regrown in a different way. I love it all the same. She doesn't ask questions. She seems to understand. "Are you ready to go?", she asks. "Of course", is my reply. I am ready. The city seems like a wonderful place. If I can show all the woodsmen there the love, I could change it for the better. And though I will miss my tree, I think, if it could speak, I know exactly what it would want me too do. Save the other trees, its leaves whisper. I'll be okay.

It takes us a few days to get back to the city. Cassandra, who I've called Andy all my life, chats the whole way, telling me, among many other things, the reason that she finally came to get me after all those years. I learn about how the city was using up so much wood, and eventually they realized they were spiraling towards a disaster. The Emperor called all the woodsmen together to try and find a solution. After a few days of hearing hopeless reports from our father, Andy brought up the idea of finding me to have a set of fresh eyes. Everyone told her it was hopeless, that I was probably dead, or if not, she would never find me. But Andy was set on her idea, like she always is, and went to look for me anyway. This is the main topic of conversation, but of course there is the occasional, "Well, and the Prince got a new haircut, and he just looks soooo handsome!" Andy thinks I am excited to see the Prince. I just can't wait to get to the woodsmen's meeting, and see my father and all the others like me.

Eventually, we are there. I run to the city center, desperately scanning the heads for my parent's faces. When I find them, they blink a few times. Then we both run in a dead sprint for each other, and I fall into my parents arms, with Andy a few steps behind. "Theo," said my bewildered father through tears of joy, "You're alive!" Shouting erupts all throughout the courtyard. While some are fearful, most of the woodsmen are gesturing to the barren land that used to be forest. "Help us fix it!" they ask. The noise overwhelms my sensitive ears, but I know I have to try. When I killed my old tree, my love helped it regrow. It might have just been the work I put in because of the love, but you never know. And I have all the woodsmen here, ready to listen. So I start to walk to the elevated edge of the courtyard. But my sister catches up to me when I am almost there. "Do you know what your name means?" "No", is my reply. No one ever told me it had a meaning. My sister starts to tell me, but she is drowned out by the noise of the courtyard. As much as I strain to listen, I cannot hear. Eventually she waves and disappears into the crowd. 

Facing the collected woodsmen, I tell them to love. My voice is shaky, at first, but as I reminisce about my tree, as I think about all the trees in the world, I grow more confident. "Love is the answer", I say. "The world needs our love". Something shifts, then, and the love seems to radiate out of all us. But it doesn't just seem- it does. The misty looking emotion rises from all of us in a beautiful orange like the first days of fall. I can feel it washing away the sadness and grief that had been covering the forest like a blanket. I know those trees will be able to regrow, if we just keep on loving them. I see other colors joining as others join in. The sky starts to brighten, the water starts to gleam a bit more than it used to; all the other men were joining in. And the love, the pure, unconditional love of the earth, from the woman but also the men, a bit of it entered myself and settled in there. And it melted the last bit of ice away. It revealed the last bit of buried information: What my name meant. I knew it now.

Gift from God