Creative Writing: Clearhaven Metal

    Hi there, I’m Carby the carbon! Right now I’m a part of Kaibab limestone in the lithosphere, though.. I have been here for millions of years, it’s growing quite stale... Fortunately, I am nearing the surface. As I finally break out, I instantly get exposed to water and dissolve into a carbonate ion in the air!

The curiosities that revolve around this event infatuate me. The night of the occurrence I knew something was off, I was petrified. I lied awake that night trying to remove my mind from the agonizing fear that crippled me, giving myself countless alternative reasons for the sounds that rudely awoke me. This man that did this to me was not a stranger, I spoke to him many times throughout the week and he was consistently kind, maybe it was part of his plan, so I wouldn’t suspect it. He was a regular acquaintance that I consistently interacted with, to me he wouldn’t ever hurt a fly, but that night, seconds before my death, I saw alarmingly unfamiliar resentment from the way he looked at me. I knew the noises weren’t the crickets. I hoped that

Jen answered,“I'm your best friend. Remember when we went to the government to get my brother and your sister Jojo? We weren’t going to leave without

I almost shrunk under her gaze. “Listen, you don't have to be best friends with him. If anything I just want you two to talk again.”

“If you really are my best friend do what I just said.” I say as I was backing away.

Customers constantly swearing under their breath, banging on the door then transitioning over to the other side. “You really need to fix that door”.”It is so hard to open”. That is the phrase I hear about 32 times in my 4 hour shift at Ace Hardware. Slumping on the register as the flies buzz around I stare carelessly into the eyes of a customer as they rage in fury over a literal door."Let me speak to your manager immediately". "Alright sorry ma'am let me call you in", in my head I'm thinking "he's just gonna say the same thing he always does - don't worry ma'am we will have the door fixed this weekend" LIES. The irony of the story you ask? We are a hardware store that can't even fix their own door. This door however

Though not forgotten this chance was pushed to the side, many years of fighting for homo superior rights, mistakes made. He was never wrong at least not to his own piercing blues. He could perhaps hear the faint yells echoing in a paradise of his own design. Genosha his home, raised and formed with his control. The fault and instability it gave to an already altered mind, Magneto would never pay such heed to warnings of destroying his being not when he was a man glad to fight for his cause..but even with all that he did the newly found child of Magneto held no wish for a man such has himself has a father...Perhaps she was not wrong in some ways, maybe the difference in their polarities is what caused the friction.

Crone gazed through heavy lidded eyes at his master as he sucked the meat off a chicken carcass, as if it were his last meal. From time to time, he’d toss a scrap at his beloved Irish setter and laugh while looking at Crone, who was forced to sit at the old warlock’s feet. Crone vowed from the first day of his servitude, he would kill the bastard. Yes, Morden was old, and he was powerful, but Crone was confident he would one day succeed.

There was four of them when the rain started to pour. At first they assumed, being fully capable young men, that they could out run it. But slowly the pale sky turned dark when the clumps of clouds rolled in. Like tangled knots they settled into the sky with layers and layers of circular bundles getting darker by the curve. Polluting the sky as though concealing something devious within it's in penetrable wall. Then the rain started. What was at first a simple trickle turned quickly into an abrasive downpour, and the men became unable to see seconds after they had wiped their eyes. The cold drops seeping into their cloths and distorting their vision, continuously flowing into their perception until only clumpy outlines of the shaded sea green trees that surrounded them remained. One thing they did see was the cave. The

Khakis. The first time I heard this word, it struck me as something exotic. I immediately pictured myself in untamed Africa, with its rolling deserts and open savannahs. I found myself fleeing from ferocious lions, laden with fierce, golden manes, and whipping past small prairie dogs, hidden in the sun-dried grass. I sprinted across the path of an old acacia tree, just in time to look back and watch the blistering African sun beginning to set, sending bright streaks of red and orange, over the horizon and across the cloudless sky. I looked ahead and noticed a tent being erected in the distance. I saw people shouting at me to hurry when, suddenly, the growling in my ears grew louder and louder and then...laughter?

"Harry, you are my best friend! Yes Ron and I," she sighed and continued, "are dating. But we needed a break." She paused

"That is not an excuse, Kyle, I should have known better than lose control over myself. What if you weren't a friend?" she shakes her head.

“How am I supposed to get to the mountains and how am I supposed to find a crashed transport. It was like looking for a needle in the world's biggest haystack,” I said to myself.

“Just keep distance. Remember, you want to be friends with that person, BUT NOT JUST FRIENDS, okay?...”

“Jumin, do you need help with anything? It seems pretty busy today,” Mrs. Johnson offered as she walked towards the counter. Jumin finally took a step back to try and relax and replied, “You don’t need to do that Mrs. Johnson, I can handle this.” Jumin smiled weakly and wiped the sweat off his forehead with an apron as he walked over to Mrs. Johnson. “It’s fine really, I don’t need any payment or anything, I just want to help out,” Mrs. Johnson shrugged, managing to convince Jumin with her award winning smile. “Okay, I’ll let you help me for a couple hours,” Jumin smiled, allowing Mrs. Johnson on the other side of the bar and quickly telling her the different orders and what she needed to do.