- Posting Speed
- Multiple posts per day
- 1-3 posts per day
- Multiple posts per week
- 1-3 posts per week
- Online Availability
- Whenever i have time to get on but am usually on daily at various times.
- Writing Levels
- Elementary
- Intermediate
- Adept
- Advanced
- Preferred Character Gender
- Male
- Female
- Primarily Prefer Male
- Genres
- I can do mostly anything! Just shoot me an idea.
The time was 4:30 in the afternoon. Past the time school let out and that James should have been home. Marie was worried. What if something had happened to him? She thought of calling the police, but didn't want to rush to any conclusions. Not yet anyway..after all, school had only ended an hour ago and James should have been able to get home by now. She paced from the window to the door and back, waiting for a call or for him to suddenly walk in and say hello to her.
As she heard the door open, she turned with relief but then stared in horror. James stood there all right but he was covered in scrapes and bruises. "James! Oh my god!" The child rolled his eyes as his mother rushed over to him.
She worried too much over him like he was 8 years old even though he was almost 16. Few more days he would be and then maybe she would give him a little more space. He wondered if she was around. If she was, more than likely she'd start poking nasty words at him and insulting him right on the spot when she'd see him. He wondered why they never got along..it was like that ever since the first day.
"Honey, stay there and don't move. I'll get the antibacterial stuff." His mom stood and rushed to the bathroom upstairs, leaving James sighing.
She never asked and that was probably good. He'd hate to tell her about them. He didn't want her to worry more than she already did. She worried about money, their education, making sure they had enough food, keeping them out of trouble. It was like his mom had become a large scale worrywart about everything involving him and Becca. When his mom returned, she had him toss his raggedy backpack on the floor and took care of his bruises which were hidden under his white t-shirt and some even under his faded jeans, although he didn't tell her about those. How embarrassing would that be?
Her long black hair caressed against his spiky red hair and her blue eyes held her own against his azure blue. One of the many traits he inherited from her, those beautiful eyes. Other than that, he seemed very different. Mom was slightly chubbier while he was fit, she was tall while he was shorter than most of his class, but he had muscle while she didn't have much strength in her muscles. They were almost polar opposites and yet, most people said they could tell he was her son.
As she heard the door open, she turned with relief but then stared in horror. James stood there all right but he was covered in scrapes and bruises. "James! Oh my god!" The child rolled his eyes as his mother rushed over to him.
She worried too much over him like he was 8 years old even though he was almost 16. Few more days he would be and then maybe she would give him a little more space. He wondered if she was around. If she was, more than likely she'd start poking nasty words at him and insulting him right on the spot when she'd see him. He wondered why they never got along..it was like that ever since the first day.
"Honey, stay there and don't move. I'll get the antibacterial stuff." His mom stood and rushed to the bathroom upstairs, leaving James sighing.
She never asked and that was probably good. He'd hate to tell her about them. He didn't want her to worry more than she already did. She worried about money, their education, making sure they had enough food, keeping them out of trouble. It was like his mom had become a large scale worrywart about everything involving him and Becca. When his mom returned, she had him toss his raggedy backpack on the floor and took care of his bruises which were hidden under his white t-shirt and some even under his faded jeans, although he didn't tell her about those. How embarrassing would that be?
Her long black hair caressed against his spiky red hair and her blue eyes held her own against his azure blue. One of the many traits he inherited from her, those beautiful eyes. Other than that, he seemed very different. Mom was slightly chubbier while he was fit, she was tall while he was shorter than most of his class, but he had muscle while she didn't have much strength in her muscles. They were almost polar opposites and yet, most people said they could tell he was her son.