Creative Writing I jump back as a black feline shoots across the path in-front of me. I catch a glimpse of its matted fur; a screeching hiss pierces the night air as it encounters a mammal in the undergrowth. They say a black cat at night is bad luck‚ but I honestly doubt my luck could get any worse in light of recent events. “Get out‚ you don’t belong here anymore”‚ “Just looking at you makes me sick. Leave now and get out of our lives”. It’s funny how the ones who are meant to love you the most
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and use these words- belonging/ not belonging/exclusion and synonyms. Consider: Exploring a shift from belonging to not belonging and alienation The nature of belonging in this situation Motives‚ catalysts Consequences‚ results‚ effects Feelings and attitudes Use key social identities that anchor or challenge belonging: family‚ friends‚ race‚ ethnicity‚ religion‚ class lifestyle or leisure activities STRUCTURE OF SHORT STORY / NARRATIVE Jump to ‘belonging’ as soon as possible
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BRIANCA LE Creative writing: Belonging A swirl of heat engulfed the outline of my body‚ its elongated fingers clawed at the edges of my jaw line. Their torturing grips strangled me through the airport security doors. The smell of oil and putrid stench of armpit wafted around my nostrils. Its odour gradually deprived me of rationality and soon dizziness overcame me. Before I knew it‚ I stood in front of a taxi‚ outside the airport and already heading towards a thin Vietnamese driver. His bony elbow
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Creative Writing - Belonging The clear‚ bright and enlightening blue skies greet my face as I ponder through my thoughts in my head. The sun blossoms it’s radiating sunlight‚ which glisten and reflect off the tranquil‚ wavy sea to reveal elements of a mystifying‚ inexplicable‚ yet convivial world. My heart beat pulsates through my ears… so silent and blissful this world of beggaring-description‚ words could not hope to utter moments like these. It was the idea of confronting‚ change and experience
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Creative writing As I wind down my window piercing sounds of cicada instantaneously bash my ear drums with their high pitched drill echoing into the bush. Hot air swells into the open window‚ and is being pushed back out by the ice cold air conditioning which effortlessly hums out of the vents. The strong sweet smell of summer fills my nostrils with every breath I take. It was just like I had left it so many years ago. The rigid road leaves a enormous dust cloud behind me. It feels like I am a
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The day arrived. The day I have been dreading for weeks. I knew that today I would have to deal with unwanted tears and emotions of sadness and emptiness running freely throughout my body. Today was the day that everything changed and the whole world around me would collapse. This was the day that I would have to travel 6209.2km across the world. To a place that is foreign and unknown to me but was once a place I used to call home. It was 6:09am in Bahrain. I watched as the large glowing sphere
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‘Please take a seat‚ I will be back in a second’ Said Mr. Alford‚ as he pointed his hand towards the lounge. I nodded gently as I walked pass my parent’s old bedroom. As I looked around‚ the bedroom itself hadn’t changed much since I was a little kid; I haven’t seen it in a while thought. I remember how I came in here a lot in the middle of a thunderstorm at night to wake my mother up‚ as I was too scared to sleep by myself. My father hated that! However‚ my mother always laughed her head off as
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I was disappearing again. I could feel it. I could feel the sterile white walls slowly sucking all the colour out of my skin. I could tell that the iron bars covering my window were slathering at the curve of my body. They were tired of always having to stand up straight; they too were slowly taking a part of me. They were taking my outline. The fluorescent light was burning the colour from my hair and the whispers were carrying it away strand by strand. I screamed and screamed for them to stop
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Deicide The crusted cliff top sighed empathetically in the burning embers of his fiery wake. He sat there‚ gazing upon the gentle planet that the deity’s society had named Earth. Lonely‚ he began to conjure a wheel of fire with his fingers to play with. Behind‚ hiding in the dry trees stood a human-like figure with blue eminence from its eyes. The place he lived in was Valhalla‚ the realm of the Gods‚ an intense dimension that was fashioned for the prosperity of higher beings. This forlorn god sitting
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A family as dysfunctional as ours‚ you must understand why being so different is so hard. Having a twin brother who is the perception of a golden child‚ and a sister‚ who is probably going to be the next Miss America‚ really makes you stand out as the ‘other’ sibling. I obviously lack the physical genetics which my brother and sister gained to my disadvantage. Being in my family is hard; not knowing which snide remark would come next towards my supposed unworthiness to sit at golden table for dinner
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