Short Story Collection

A "book" of all my short stories (or of the like) that are mainly for schoolwork.


5. Unimaginable


The task:
On this page are eight separate items. Four of them are pictures, and four are sentences. Choose ONE of the eight items and use it as the basis for a piece of writing. Do NOT write a poem or draw a cartoon [lol].

I have chosen number eight (funny because I'm listening to Solitaire right now and it is track eight off Froot I'M) and it's so hard not to write a Larina OH MY GOD! Okay, let's do this shit (it secretly will be a Larina--but no smut, sorry, this is for school )

Okay, here it is (what an introduction, I need to shut up now--this part in bold won't be included on my paper, don't worry)
...and when I say "she is a fictional character", I lie, the narrator is secretly Marina, so Marina's name is Makayla, (most of my non-fanfiction stories have this "Makayla" character (yes, she is an actual develop character, created over a number of years) as the narrator or protagonist, so it works out incredulously that Makayla is somewhat similar to Marina) and Lana is Eliza c:

* * *
(NOTE: the narrator is not actually myself, she is a fictional character)

I looked at my reflection in the mirror before me, barefoot. I was clothed in a reddy-pink bubble dress that stopped just above my knees. I could not believe what I was dressing up for. The far-distant, unimaginable future had mysteriously become the present.

I managed my thick black hair into a neat half-up, half-down hairdo and then sat down to apply my makeup - a coral pink colouring of my upper eyelids that extended to just under my brows, a thick line tracing the edges of my eye, as they met at the outer corners of my eyes and flicked farther away from my eyes, and I was so lucky to achieve a symmetrical look, and my lips painted the same colour of my dress, finishing with a quick puff of faint hot pink blush to add colour to my cheeks. Makeup almost elapsed for a full hour - the longest I had ever spent applying makeup.  I contemplated adding glitter, though I wasn't fighting to be prom queen (if it happens, it happens, I thought, though I never believed it would), and I had already spent so much time on the rest of my cosmetics, I didn't want to waste even more valuable time.

  Afterwards, I studied my face - I wasn't exactly pretty, but oh well, I sighed to myself. My date claimed to believe I was, so I just tried pushing the itching anxiety of not looking pretty enough aside. I took in a large, calming breath, and slowly exhaled, trying to put my mind at peace as I wriggled on my hot pink pumps, also the same colour as my dress, instantly making me feel a thousand feet higher than I really was - I was so short. Standing next to my date, who was only three inches taller than me, I felt like a midget. I just hoped she wore flats.

Oh, yes, and that was yet another thing that circled around in my head, almost making me want to puke. I just hoped she wore flats. I was scared stiff of what everyone would think. I had no idea if people were accepting of same-sex relationships, apart from my only best friend, Emily, and I didn't want to find out the bad way. Frankly, a part of me absolutely dreaded this day. It was the day where Eliza and I would reveal our status to the school, which we had previously kept a secret for two weeks. No one had ever considered me to like girls, so I was utterly afraid of how they might respond. 

But, of course, my biggest fear was my parents. My father was homophobic



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