mydeadlygrace.blogspot.com
Digging Graves: How Fast We Run
http://mydeadlygrace.blogspot.com/p/how-fast-we-run.html
I STILL DON'T KNOW. How Fast We Run. How Fast We Run. Normally it’s quiet in the mornings. And of course, today was the exception where something new and different happened. Well, at least, that’s the look she told me to take on things. She being the girl who filled the hallway with noise at 7:00 in the morning. She being the girl who changed everyone’s lives. She being the girl who’s going to die any day now. 8220;See something you like? 8220;I’m sorry,” was all I could muster. 8220;Hm,” She smirk...
mydeadlygrace.blogspot.com
Digging Graves: Dies Irae
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I STILL DON'T KNOW. How Fast We Run. There are a lot of things you could know about me. Most of those things are irrelevant, and yet your simple mind really can’t differentiate in between what to believe and what not to believe. So I guess I’ll just have to do it for you. Oh what a joy. Supposedly I’m in 9th grade. Whatever that means. Now this person who adopted me should really know that I have zero effort for school. 8220;Just great,” I walked up to the school that had been picked out for me. 8221; So...
mydeadlygrace.blogspot.com
Digging Graves: March 2013
http://mydeadlygrace.blogspot.com/2013_03_01_archive.html
I STILL DON'T KNOW. How Fast We Run. Thursday, March 28, 2013. Cirque Du Araignee - Act 4. Ladies and Gentlemen,. The show is just getting started,. Why are you leaving? I know this isn’t very fair,. But you can’t quit now. I know I haven’t been very fair. Not telling you what you’re listening for. By now I’m sure you know what you’re listening for. Silence drips from the fangs of the monsters that surround you. Terrors rage outside like a hurricane. Fear creeps up like the spiders that spin your story.
no-need-to-cry-over-spilled-ink.blogspot.com
No Need To Cry Over Spilled Ink: Stuck
http://no-need-to-cry-over-spilled-ink.blogspot.com/2013/05/authors-note-this-short-poem-was.html
No Need To Cry Over Spilled Ink. A room without books is like a body without a soul" -Marcus Tullius Cicero. Thursday, May 2, 2013. Sometimes I feel like this tree. Just out on my own. Even though birds pass over. Or even land on the branches. They don’t stay for very long. To earn my trust. And then to throw it back in my face. As they fly away. And here I sit. Letting the cool waves. They are never powerful enough. To knock me over. To discourage me from moving. With a blindfold on. 1 of 48 (2%).
mydeadlygrace.blogspot.com
Digging Graves: Infected
http://mydeadlygrace.blogspot.com/2013/06/infected.html
I STILL DON'T KNOW. How Fast We Run. Thursday, June 6, 2013. In all of those television shows and books where they have zombie apocalypses they always make them seem like ignorant flies. But they were smarter than that—they were so much smarter than that. They were extremely sensitive, they could hear you breathe, they could smell that you’re alive, they could feel your heart beat. They knew you were alive or dead, and they knew how to kill you. He put his paw up on my leg, reaching up toward me. 2 Angel...
mydeadlygrace.blogspot.com
Digging Graves: May 2013
http://mydeadlygrace.blogspot.com/2013_05_01_archive.html
I STILL DON'T KNOW. How Fast We Run. Tuesday, May 28, 2013. I STILL DON'T KNOW HOW TO FEEL ABOUT THIS. Weakly I stumbled, over the past two or three days I had lost way too much blood to his torture. But I decided that I needed water, even if that meant possible death. 8220;H- He- H- Help! 8221; Someone yelled. Slowly I turned into a room, a boy who looked barely scratched had his hands tied up. 8220;Oh my god,” he said as I staggered toward him. 8220;What’re you doing out of your room? 8221; He said.
mydeadlygrace.blogspot.com
Digging Graves: Virus/Reincarnated
http://mydeadlygrace.blogspot.com/p/virus.html
I STILL DON'T KNOW. How Fast We Run. Ashi ran down the path our father had made in the forest. Her frizzy red hair sprung out from her head, standing out in the emerald greenery of the forest. 8220;Slow down, Ashi! 8221; I called out, running after her. 8221; She giggled, running faster. 8221; This wasn’t fun anymore. 8220;You have to catch me! 8221; She sprinted. 8220;Stop. Now.” I quit running, now I was mad. 8221; Ashi stopped about twenty feet in front of me. 8221; I stepped closer to her. 8220;IR...
no-need-to-cry-over-spilled-ink.blogspot.com
No Need To Cry Over Spilled Ink: Changing The Stereotype
http://no-need-to-cry-over-spilled-ink.blogspot.com/2013/05/changing-stereotype.html
No Need To Cry Over Spilled Ink. A room without books is like a body without a soul" -Marcus Tullius Cicero. Tuesday, May 28, 2013. Author's Note: For my District Writing Assessment Piece, I went back and edited my most recent essay, which also happened to be my most complex and challenging piece. I went through and changed many things with the mechanics and grammar, but I also changed some sentences around so that they get my point across more. Whether it be in the workplace or just in everyday life, wh...
