Wattpad

Hey all,

I’ve decided to post my full story on wattpad, thank you for the two people who convinced me too they know who they are 😉.

So if you’re interested I will be posting weekly! starting from next week. I haven’t chosen which day since I may be getting a Job soon my routine will be based around my schedule.

Follow @SimplyMessyMind or my story is called ‘The Castles Unspoken Secrets’

If you don’t know what it is about I would recommend finding my two other posts, they are simplified versions of what’s in the chapters. Otherwise here’s the blurb.

From supernatural to love this story follows a girl named Ivory Shaw, who has lost her parents and can no longer stay with her aunty. Arriving at her new boarding school, with new friends and a potential love interest, Ivory won’t be able to tell what is real anymore.

Thank you!!!

if you have any questions follow my socials or email me

Snapchat: amazingemma48

Instagram: simplymessymind

email: emma@simplymessymind.com

The Castles Unspoken Secrets 🏰

A story in the making, created by me. This chapter is called Carriage

I place myself in chair 24, almost identical to the rest on this train but mine was lose. It squeaks like a mouse caught in a trap. As i settle myself down I hear a man asking for help, I perk my head up and leaned over to see if he was ok. No one was helping, not even acknowledging his existence right infront of them.

I stopped what ever I was doing to create my comfort and got up to help the man. Due to my analysis of him he looks to be in his late 40’s early 50’s, he was tall with very broad shoulders, his hair softly spiked up, out of his face with a silver tint. His eyes were hazel, mainly a light brown but with specks of emerald green.

I approached this man kindly “would you like me to help you sir?” I reach my hand out for his ticked to see if I could find his seat. His eyes admired me, his smirk of thanks spoke with out moving his lips. The man hands me his ticked “oh seat 33 that’s two rows behind mine!”

The man places his bag down in his seat and turns to me and said “thank you,” I nodded and I walk back to my seat a voice so rich and jovial was no more. He grabbed my arm so tight his nails could’ve carved into my bone “I said thank you,” He pulls me back towards him his voice now inhumane, a hybrid of human and animal. His eyes were not longer admiring me, pupils so small he could’ve been looking directly into the sun, the colour had changed to copper gold. The mans smile was no longer there, his mouth half open, his teeth enlarged.

I started to panic, I tried to mask it so he wouldn’t notice, my heart pounding so fast it starts to ache, my hands and feet creating puddles within themselves. The man had a strong grip, ‘will he let me go?’ I question myself. Thoughts going faster than a bullet train one after the other. I yanked my arm and dashed into my seat.

Letting out my breaths into the cold train air I had to take a moment to rethink what had happened, if it happened!? I look at my arm. No markings but it hurt as if it did. I had to look back, what if i quickly took a nap and that was a dream. It definitely was not a dream. I peaked my head between the two chairs.

Those eyes sharpened, looking at me like I was his prey. He saw not a soul but an opportunity, and my question was ‘his opportunity for what?’ My head throbs, pulsing so strongly i start to feel my own blood flow throughout my body, his stare made me weak, made me anxious. I aggressively blink more than the average person should, my vision was blurry and circling. I could only just make out the drooling dripping from his lower lip, foam forming from his mouth, his teeth structure could almost be identical to a dogs.

I ended up passing out as the train jerked itself awake, it was all too much. I couldn’t comprehend what just happened but it wasn’t normal. My panic attack was so strong I collapsed in my chair.

Story By Image

Yesterday I asked my boyfriend to pick out a picture out from my search on safari ‘Photo prompt for writing’. The Image shown above was the one he chose so here is what I wrote. I did no drafts or planning I just wrote the first thing that came in mind.

Comfort In The Storm

It is my time. The fog comforts me, hugging me like it knew. I hold myself as the famous Henry Purcell – Dido’s Lament plays in my head. The song takes control as I roll my head to each beat, my neck and shoulders support me.

The air is damp, cold. Today the clouds sit upon the earth, as if they decided that the heavens were down here instead. The trees are veiled in the lightest of mist, their trunks sombre brown with sable cracks that gnarl the bark. As my eye travels to the edge of the woodland the trees become silhouettes against a blanket of white, as if it is only daylight where I stand, as if I am encircled by twilight.

If I lived any place other than right here, I would pine for these evergreen hills, this forest that has become a vital part of my soul. The pine forest has a time-machine aroma, everyday of the year, it is the very ether of my memories. The pine forest is a home to so many souls of creation and I feel so blessed to hear my heart beat among theirs.

I never let myself see my own fear, for it was ever a disadvantage in the place that I was raised. To cry was to be beaten and scoled. If I cried I’d be “given something to cry about.” The act of crying for my own pain was literally beaten out of me. Suppressed completely. Now decades later, it still is, yet channelled into my creativity, a sort of unwitting energy booster. What I cannot suppress though are these shivers that say I am afraid.

In that shiver was a moment of truth, a story of these emotions that no mask could ever hide.

I’ve always loved the thunder storms. I’ve always loved storm-could-grey. To see them swirling one last time in the heavens, brings a kind of inner glee. I reached up, bringing down a handful of that cosmic swirl, if I could make a fabric from it that was ever-changing as the sky above is right now, I’d wear it forever.

As the infinity cloud swirl levitates from my hand over my head, I feel it. The heavens. The clouds were a kind of grey that would make any quarry rock proud, as if they were so pleased beneath my feet, hidden between the grass they echo the earth. All of the grey, all that swirling, my vision became a blur, but I trusted this storm to take me where I need to go. The condensation was bound to happen sooner rather than later.

Comment your thoughts 🙂