Projects !
This page contains some of our most precious babies: our unpublished projects. Feel free to enjoy the excerpts we’ve provided here!
Honeysuckle, an excerpt from Dear Ivy, written by Annalee Bell
Peaceful rays of the rising Southern sun stream in through the east side of the screened inscreened-in back porch. The familiar creak of the metal chain holding the porch swing rings in my ear as it rocks slowly under my weight. The cool morning breeze blows through the dew-covered grass and rustles the honeysuckle vines that decorate the gazebo in the backyard. Rough wood provides a familiar comforting feeling as the porch swing rubs against the back of my thin shirt. A steaming mug of fragrant coffee warms my hands as I relax with my legs curled up thinking about my plans for the day as our neighbors are set to come over for breakfast a little later.
From inside, I hear the quick scuffling of little feet as my not-so-little babies run down the stairs and towards me. It’s only about seven in the morning, early even for them. I can’t possibly imagine what’s got them so excited at this hour. My oldest, Jules, reaches the door to the back porch first and slides it open with ease. Her younger sister Pearl, in true fashion, is hot on her heels as they both skid to a halt in front of me.
“Mama, what does true love look like?” Jules huffs as she recovers from the run between her bedroom and the porch. Speechless, I look at her trying to figure out a response. I knew I would have to talk about love with my kids at some point, but I never thought it’d be this soon. She must have seen me looking stumped, because she added, “and And not the kind like how you love us because I knowww that you love us equally and it never stops but like how you love Dad,” she finishes, leaving me even more confused.
“Well sure hon, but why are you asking in the first place?” I wonder, hoping I can provide a simple answer that involves knights in shining armor and a beautiful princess.
“Because at school my best friend Clare said that Haley said that her mom said that true love is really complicated and sometimes it doesn’t turn out happy like in the movies. She also said that not everyone gets true love, and I didn’t think she was right but then I was going to sleep I wondered if maybe she was right because I’ve never heard you call Dad your one true love and that’s really serious stuff Mama,” she stated very matter-of-factly.
Silently swearing at that girl’s mom who told her child that true love doesn’t exist, I finally decided what I was going to tell her. “Why don’t you two sit down and while Dad cooks breakfast, I’ll tell you all about my true love. How does that sound girls?” I grin as Jules and Pearl plop to the floor and stare up at me in anticipation. I take a deep breath, and dive right in.
***
It was the summer I turned 19, and I had just broken up with my fourth boyfriend. The spark had faded, and we just decided to call it quits. No hard feelings between us, it just didn’t work out, and that’s okay because that just happens sometimes. In fact, that’s what had happened with all my prior boyfriends too. We just didn’t love each other the same way we used to.
“But Mama isn’t that bad that you didn’t love each other forever?” Pearl interrupts, her eyes wide.
“No honey, it’s natural. Think about it this way. You’ve only got one true love, but sometimes they take an awful long time to find, so it’s normal that you might end up with a few not-quite-right people before you meet the one you want to love forever and ever. And I was just about to meet mine.”
I had just gone through a breakup so I wasn’t exactly ready to date, but my friend Jilly was hosting a pool party to celebrate the end of summer and I couldn’t miss it. I arrived late because I had to stop for gas, and when I got there everyone had already climbed in. I took off the t-shirt that was covering my favorite cherry red swimsuit and I joined everyone in the pool. The chill water was refreshing in the southern heat and splashing around with everyone was a blast. Parties have never really been my scene though, and with the music loud and the crowd louder, I got out after about twenty minutes and started eating some watermelon in the corner.
As I was munching on the sweet fruit, a tall guy with brown hair, brown eyes, and a goofy smile shyly wandered up to me. I thought he was really cute, and here I was with sticky hands and pink watermelon juice dripping down my chin. What a way to meet the love of your life, am I right?
“Party is pretty loud, huh? I don’t blame you for sitting over here… I know you’re probably here to get away from the noise and the people, but I was thinking maybe I could join you?you. In getting away from people… together?”’ he asked timidly. I had never met him before, but he seemed sweet. His eyes barely met mine and when they did, he quickly looked away. I couldn’t tell if it was just because of the weather or some beverage that’s that was not meant for teenagers, but his cheeks were positively carmine. His tacky unbuttoned shirt with a green background and colorful flowers was damp and sticking to his body. I could feel myself blushing, so I had to look away myself.
Tentatively, I responded, “Sure… but only if you also cover yourself in watermelon juice. I can’t be alone in this endeavor you know”.
“Oh, of course I will. But only if we steal the bowl because I can guarantee you this little wedge is not going to be enough for us,” he grinned, showing me a bright smile with a slightly crooked incisor. Stealthily, we made our way to the snack table, and grabbed the whole bowl of melon wedges, and returned to our shady corner of the porch without being noticed. Just as we had stolen away to our hidden corner we heard a bit of a commotion from afar.
“WHO TOOK THE WATERMELON?” came a drunken cry in the distance. We exchanged a wide-eyed glance before bursting into laughter.
“I suppose we’re regular partners in crime, aren’t we?” he quipped.
“Oh absolutely. We’re basically felons now. We have to promise to take this to our graves,” I giggled, holding out my pinky to make the most solemn oath two teenagers can.
Reaching out and accepting it, I felt his pinky wrap around mine, sealing our secret forever and ever. Until now anyhow.
“Mamaaaa! That’s dangerous!” cried young Pearl.
“What is darlin’?”
“You pinky swore something, and you broke it and now your pinky is gonna break into like a million pieces I bet!”
“Ohh I wouldn’t worry about that. I think pinky swears have a time limit on them. I sure hope so anyhow.” Shining droplets began to well up in the bottoms of Pearl’s eyes as she became scared her Mama would lose a finger. This is just my parenting fail of the day I suppose.
“Wait! I have an idea!” proclaimed Jules. “What if… we all pinky swore that we wouldn’t tell Mama’s secret watermelon heist? Then it would be like no one broke it!
“You’re so smart, Jules. Let’s do it.” I replied mischievously, trying and succeeding in putting a smile back onto Pearl’s tiny face as we all simultaneously locked pinkies before I continued my tale…
Daisy, an excerpt from Dear Ivy, written by Elizabeth Gray
The hands on the wall clock shifted to signal 5:00, and Samuel found himself tidying up his already neat office. The blaring noises of traffic steadily increased as time progressed, and he was glad he didn’t have to leave his office quite yet. It felt cozy and secure, with cool ocean blue walls, inviting gray couches, and warm dark brown accents around the room. He found that it helped his clients relax–therapy could often be daunting for people that weren’t familiar or comfortable with the practice. Samuel truly loved his job, especially since he had the ability to listen and help those that genuinely needed it. Nevertheless, while he was happy and satisfied with his work, he loved going home to his wife even more. They’d been married for thirty-five years, and each day had been a blessing as they navigated new challenges, from living together, to having kids, and eventually becoming empty nesters. That relative stability gave him the ability to be a rock in other people’s lives, much like Daisy was in his.
. . .
Samuel and Daisy were childhood friends, and from the moment they met, it seemed like there was an instant connection. As a scrawny 6-year-old, Samuel had attempted to defend Daisy from the playground bullies (a task that proved more difficult than it seemed), and afterwards, Daisy approached him and asked if he wanted to play on the monkey bars. They’d been inseparable ever since, as weekly playdates turned into joint extracurricular activities, which then graduated into attending the same college: North Kaplan University.
However, their relationship wasn’t as purely platonic as it seemed, as Daisy had a longstanding crush on Samuel, who was oblivious to the entire matter. And so she had waited, waited from the first moment she saw him standing up for her in the playground, waited from the moment he’d asked her to show him how to roller skate, and waited from the moment he’d hugged her as they turned their tassels and officially graduated high school. She longed to touch his fluffy black hair, longed to gaze into his warm, russet eyes, and longed to be his soulmate, his girlfriend, his lifelong companion.
As the years passed, she couldn't help but feel her heart slightly breaking every time Samuel told her about a new crush or a girl he was interested in. She almost wanted to scream at him: Why don’t you notice me? I’ve been here in front of you all along! However, she was willing to wait; she didn’t want to rush or make things awkward with a person she considered to be her best friend. So, she had her own crushes and flings, but despite all the distractions, her feelings still remained.
Junior year in college quickly approached, and both Daisy and Samuel found themselves fully immersed in their respective majors. They were excited for the new semester, as they’d had a chance to take a global diversity class together that involved an exchange student program.
“Are you excited to finally have an exchange student in our class?”
“I think so! It’s always nice hearing from other perspectives and cultures. Honestly, I just hope they’re nice and fun.”
“Me too,” Samuel said thoughtfully. “I kind of hope they’re also a psych major.”
“Of course you would.” laughed Daisy. “I love how excited you are, but not everyone can be a future therapist.”
“Daisy, come on. You know how exciting it would be to have someone from Argentina or Estonia or Paris or wherever have some remote similarities to our experiences here? I guess it’ll be nice to know that we’re not really alone as we’re struggling through this class.”
Daisy giggled. “Why do you act like they’re coming from a totally different planet? Calm down. It’s just going to be another regular person in our regular, unnecessarily stressful class.”
The person in question was a 21 year old Chilean woman named Emilia, and she was instantly well-liked by mostly everyone. She was gorgeous, charismatic, and funny, and was also extremely sarcastic and cracked jokes through the duration of the class. Unfortunately, Samuel almost instantly developed a crush on her, and as the semester went on, he became more and more infatuated.
“Do you think I should ask her out? I mean, we’ve had a few conversations, so she definitely knows my name, so–”
“Go for it!” Daisy said, even though it pained her to do so. “Honestly, the worst thing she can say is no, and even then, you’ll find someone else.”
“You always say that.” Samuel said with a half smile. “You always have so much faith in me and it’s kinda impressive.”
Daisy raised an eyebrow. “That’s a weird way to flatter someone, but thank you? I guess? I just want you to be happy, ‘cause you deserve it.”
As the semester drew to a close, Samuel grew more and more anxious. Emilia would go back to Chile soon, which meant that he had to act now. He decided to catch her after class, and would pray that she didn’t have another immediately after. Knowing the type of woman that she was, he decided to come prepared with gifts: Whitman’s chocolates, a stuffed bear, and a balloon that said “I ‘heart’ you.”. He anxiously waited for her outside the classroom door, hoping that Professor Higgins wouldn’t notice that he skipped their class to do this act.
He heard the cacophony of frantic rustling of paper and belongings as class drew to a close, and after the first flood of students exited, he saw Emilia leaving, surrounded by her friends.
“Hey! um, Emilia! Wait up!” he called, accidentally underestimating how fast they walked…
Excerpt from an Untitled Work, written by Annalee Bell
The iron scent of blood muddles with the humid air as I race through the labyrinth of trees. My feet kicking up pine needles, crunching over twigs, and tripping on vines in the blackness of night as a grotesque roar erupts from behind me. It’s too close. It’s so close.
My lungs are searing with pain, struggling to pull in oxygen as my body works harder than it has ever had to before. But I have to keep going. I have to keep going. I have to keep— ccrrckkkk. The sound splits through the air as I crash over a dead branch. Tumbling forward and slamming into the wet ground, my hands instinctively shoot forward to brace for impact. Despite scraped hands and bloodied knees my body manages to pull itself up and lurch forward, just to be stopped dead in my tracks by a scaly claw as it snatches the back of my shirt. Twisting and writhing beneath its grip does no good. A piercing shriek fills the air as I turn to face my impending doom. Amaranthine scales cover the creature as its four piercing black eyes stare me down, showcasing a slobbering, toothy smile to match. With a curious tilt of its head, it almost seems to smile at me. It’s taunting me. And as it does, it lurches forward, jaw agape, to eat me alive.
***
Jolting awake, my entire body soaked in sweat, it feels as if I woke up just before falling into oblivion. Heart and head pounding, it takes what feels like ages to calm down. After doing some deep breathing I finally feel a wave of comfort wash over me as I open my eyes. The ceiling above is covered in tapestries of all colors and patterns. Silver slivers of moonlight shine through the room as it penetrates the cracks of my blinds. Dim light illuminates the soft edges of the many trinkets that decorate my room. I always thought there was more peace that existed at night than during the day. The quiet seems to dissolve any semblance of mayhem as the sweet song of crickets, cicadas, and rustling leaves plays for the summer nights of North Carolina. I’ve grown so accustomed to the sound that I can’t sleep well in the summer if I don’t leave the window cracked to hear the familiar melody. It just soothes the soul in a way nothing else can.
Glancing over to the window, I know something is off. Slowly creeping out of bed, my feet fall on the cold hardwood floor. Tiptoeing over to the bay window, my blood runs cold. The curtains aren’t fluttering, not even a little bit. My window is completely closed, and locked from the inside. I left it open, I know I did. Just then, the slightest sound pricks my ear. A creaking floorboard, plus my Mom soundly asleep in her room, equals I might be about to get murdered. Okay… not great. The best option is probably to bolt, right? No, I have to get Mom. Okay.
Grabbing the bat I keep by my bed for emergencies, I take just a second to revel in the fact that I did end up needing it, and I wasn’t just a paranoid freak. Sera-1, scary murderers-0. Bracing myself for the worst, I move low and slow, praying that I’m just a little crazy and grief-stricken and having hallucinations or something. Coming up to my door, I muster my courage, count to three, and throw it open. Without wasting a moment I pounce out, and begin wildly swinging the metal Louisville Slugger I scored from a garage sale. Hitting nothing, I continue forward, heading towards Mom’s room. A soft scuttling in my wake shocks me to the bone as I pivot to find Gouda panting happily, evidently pleased that I am up and ready to play with him.
A wave of relief flows through me and I let go of a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. Bending down and petting my sweet, oblivious boy I look into his deep-brown eyes covered in black shaggy fur. He really is a simple creature, who is fueled by cuddles and food he steals from our plates when we aren’t looking. Truly he’s been like a rock for me since I found out my dad and sister were killed in an apartment fire last week. I still can’t believe it. They were packing Eris’ bags to come home from her internship in the city. Just four days ago, Mom and I were on the phone with them, cheerfully baking and looking forward to their impending arrival. Three days ago we got the phone call. Two days we were in a funeral home planning for today’s end-of-life ceremonies. And yesterday we prepared for today by wallowing in misery, consuming copious amounts of rocky road ice cream and canned cheese spray. Life can just be too much sometimes, and this is one of those times I suppose. Kissing Gouda goodnight and wiping tears from my eyes I stand up and trudge back to my bedroom to try to get just a little more sleep. Climbing into bed and pulling the blue floral comforter over my body, I blow hair out of my eyes and lay in the darkness.
“Stay away. Don’t go.”
Gripped with terror I jerk my head towards the smoky voice and see a tall, muscular man with dark hair and pale skin looming over me. I can’t move. His green eyes seem to pierce my very soul as his gaze pins me to the bed.
“Stay. Away.”
With this final warning he moves forward and gingerly touches my forehead which causes my eyelids to suddenly become heavy. As sleep encroaches on my mind and my vision grows blurry, the very last thing I see is the strange man’s face illuminated by nothing more than dim moonlight. Oddly enough, his thick eyebrows seem to be knit together with… concern?