Creative Writing Portfolio.

[Absnt]

For some reason, I tend to be more creative when I write and post on SS. Probably because you, my "peers", will probably read it. For that reason, I'm posting my work for the end of the half-year creative writing class I took on here so I can actually get it done. Please note that I acknowledge my lack of any creative skill...

Portfolio: (Best 5 pieces I wrote all year.)

Hidden stuff:

The Nurse Essay:

The nurse left work at eight o'clock. Upon leaving she grabbed her bag, got into her car, and decided to go to a restaurant for dinner. She reached the restaurant just before the place became uncomfortably crowded. As tired as she was due to her busy hospital schedule, she figured having dinner would be worth the sleep she was losing, even if it was in a crowded place like this.

A few hours later, and just before she asked for the check, a man, middle aged, slightly obese, fell to the floor with an audible thump. As panic arose all around the man, the nurse promptly made her way through the crowd, and immediately began assessing the situation. She administered emergency first aid procedures. It was second nature to her, everything she was doing had been drilled into her.

1.) Have someone call 911.
2.) Elevate legs.
3.) Pump the heart.
4.) Administer CPR.

Soon after, an ambulance arrived, and the man was determined to have had a heart attack. The nurse was asked to report to the hospital immediately so she could file a report.

"No sleep tonight."

She thought, slightly depressed at the realization. Once they arrived at the hospital, the nurse could do no more. She was exhausted. She checked on the stable patient one more time, and decided to head back home.

The following day, the nurse arrived at the hospital at around four in the morning. Still exhausted. During the previous night, it was determined the man surely would have died without her assistance, and she could have a day off tomorrow. She felt a wave of relief come over her, but it only lasted an instant. It was time to get back to work.

Hidden stuff:

The balloon story.

"The balloon hasn't been flown in years. It's probably broken." -- He said.

"Well let's fix it then. The balloon race is in a week" - She Responded

"Why would we race an old, partially broken balloon? If we're going to take it up, let's just do it in one of the fields up the road." -- He asserted.

"That's boring, I want to race."

About a week later, at the balloon race...

"You're sure this thing will work?" - He asked.

"Of course, stop whining and let's get ready. We take off in twenty minutes."

"Fine, and I'm not whining" - He replied.

As everyone began to spurt random bursts of flames into the balloons above them, the small crowd cheered. The starting shot rang, and just as he pulled the rope that released the fireball into the balloon's opening, he noticed a huge black figure standing near the building behind them. One of the cables then tore away from the balloon and he tripped, falling onto a wooden block that should have been taken out earlier. At that moment, a gust of wind blew. The combination of these events caused the balloon to sway off balance and it floated over into a nearby porter potty.

The man occupying the potty came out, partially covered in feces, enraged. He looked up just in time to notice the balloon continue on it's destructive path. It then ran into another balloon, and that balloon knocked into another. This created, predictably, a domino effect. Due to these strange circumstances, the balloon race officials postponed the race for several hours. The black figure that he claimed to of seen was gone, and everyone suggested he was insane, and caused the catastrophe out of boredom.

"I told you something like this was going to happen" - He said.

Which she only responded to with laughter.

Hidden stuff:

Red jacket story.

"Living here is ridiculous, this room wasn't even designed for residency. Only a hundred bucks a month though; and soon I'll have my own house. The walls will be white, not this ridiculous shade of red. Soon I'll be out of here... Twelve thirty, time to go back to work; why did I get a coat this shade? All of this red is going to drive me insane."

"What kind of job is this? Working in a superstore at midnight. Soon I'll have enough though, I'm just over halfway there. Good thing John, the poor excuse for a manger, kept me out of the system. It was a big risk getting a job here. If Tom asked some of his contacts, he probably could of found me in the directory a week ago. Not sure what I would have done if I never landed this job, even with the risks involved... How did I get into this situation in the first place?"

"Oh, right, I almost married a madman. At least I figured it out this early, getting away would have been that much harder if we were married. Wait, I'm not out of the woods yet. If I don't leave soon, he could have the police find me. It's a shame how corrupt things have become."

"Well, there isn't much I can do about it until I can afford that plain ticket. Still, this job is so repetitive and boring. These people have no idea what it's like to live like I do. How can you spend three hundred dollars a week on groceries? Oh well, I can't be to aggravated over it, their daily waste is my daily meal."

As her mind continued to race, Thomas Gerrard was catching up. He knew he would be safe as long as she couldn't get out of the country. The police were on his side, and he was a powerful man in the U.S. IF she got out of the country, however, there's no telling what she would do. Release a book documenting his crimes, contact federal agencies that may pressure the FBI to look into this further or any number of other things. It's hard to tell, not that revenge wasn't enough of a motive in and of itself.

Either way, the last thing he could do was let her out of the country. It wouldn't be long now though, she had left trails: credit card usage, CCTV recordings, and more. One more slip up and they could piece together the info and figure out were she was. Figuring out what to do after that would be easy. Maybe he could send her to prison, get her killed or drop her off in the middle of some undeveloped and unstable area to be captured and imprisoned.

"One more day, and thanks to my last paycheck I can actually afford some things for myself." - She thought.

"I'll get some food when I purchase my ticket on-line at the internet cafe. I can't afford any delays while at the airport. It's late enough, I doubt anyone will be alerted if I use my real name, and by the time they figure it out, I'll be gone." - So she did just that.

Tom was awake, he wasn't leaving anything to chance. He figured she would do everything last minute, and when she thought he wasn't paying attention. When he figured out she purchased a ticket, he immediately contacted New York officials and got them to find her. Soon enough they figured out she had been using an alias, and were she was staying.

She finished packing and headed for the door. Everything was cleaned of her prints. She left nothing that would alert anyone to the fact that she had stayed there. She gave the small basement room one last glance, and turned around to exit. As soon as she was facing the door, it was kicked in. The fifth guy in was trying to get a picture of her so he could confirm her identity. She put up her hands and wouldn't allow it. Nevertheless, she was soon apprehended and identified as their target.

"Looks like my plan to stay with my friend in London will be postponed indefinitely." She thought. "What a shame, and I really thought I'd get away from all of this to. Looks like it will be my word against his from here on out".

Hidden stuff:

A personal anecdote from Mister Burke on the Rosa Parks incident.

I was on my way back from an assignment that I got from Allistair Tenpenny. It was a spectacularly average day. Despite the notion most of you rather unenlightened sheep-like-people tend to hold, the day lacked anything and everything out of the ordinary. That is to say, everything was completely average for those of you who are a bit dull-witted or unsurprisingly uneducated. In fact, it seemed as though the only thing out of the ordinary on that boring and up to that point uneventful day was myself riding among the commoners.

As I rode along on this dreadfully filthy contraption among these barbarians something almost interesting happened. The bus slowed to allow some rather disgustingly pompous “white-folk” on board. I assure you their pomp, however, was unwarranted. Regardless, they stepped onto the bus and the driver ushered these fools back to were the equally embarrassing “black-folk” were sitting. These fellows were, not only uneducated, but also cowardly and suppressed by the pompous fools! Ha! How can one group of idiots let another group of idiots push them around like that!?

Anyway, when the (white) driver carried himself back to the black-section of the bus, (Yes, these idiots divided the bus by race.) he informed the black passengers sitting in that section to move back a bit further to make room for the whites. A very average occurrence in those days, really. I figured the idiocy would simply continue as usual, and the pushover-blacks would submit to the incredibly foolish whites.

The surprise came when one of the blacks decided to move over towards the window seat, and refuse to obey her white “superiors”. This was, without a doubt, the most interesting part of my day, if interest is what you want to call it. The women was standing up for herself. Well, good for her, and good for her race as a whole, right? Wrong. That meant that I had to walk the rest of the way. There was no way I was going to ride in a taxi and risk a one on one conversation with one of these simpletons...

(Cookie if you get the reference.)

Just wrote this one...

Hidden stuff:

Laugh-Cry story.

The only emotion he felt was pure joy, and only when he got to watch something in pain. Most thought it was disgusting and the kid was devilish. He, however, felt that it was the norm. He felt nothing, until he was torturing an insect or killing a small animal. He was a psychopath. He wasn't entirely insane, nor was he an idiot, he was simply... unfeeling.

She, on the other hand, was the opposite. She teared up when her teachers gave her a bad grade. She would cry for an hour if she was shouted at. She was almost too emotional.

When he met her, the inevitable happened. He made her cry, and she made him happy. To the point of laughter. He would enjoy every minute of it. At one point, he even considered asking her to go out with him. He had no idea what he was actually doing.

She however, lived in a world of torment, taking every insult to heart and every flick, push, hit, and pull personally. She was being torn apart. She eventually informed her parents of his menacing ways, and they promptly contacted the school.

He was soon carted off to be evaluated and placed in a program for children with issues, while she was left alone to enjoy her peace.

[Vatman]

I really liked "the balloon story" it was just light hearted enough for me to smile, and well written enough for me to wonder how hard it would be to build an air ballon.