Teens Writing for Teens, the 5th

MargoWest said:

Paraaaaaaaaaaa! How're you? Do you finish uni for good in October?

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Thalia said:

*hugs Karla*

Karla, I know what it's like to be super sensitive, but really, it's what makes you an amazing person. Being able to feel with that much intensity makes you so kind and good and special. I know it's tough-- my hatred of my sensitivity gave me an ED-- but you're perfect the way you are.

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lisalulu09 said:

*huggles Karla*

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MargoWest said:

ETA: *hugs* for Karla. Just remember, that time in junior high/high school is in the past now. You don't have to backtrack; you can be however you want now.

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Zoombie said:

PARA!

So, I'm sending in the 3rd chapter of Debris Dreams into my class. I've recently rejiggered it to be meaner, cause my military friends said that the drill sergeant was being too gentle.

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Parametric said:

I loved those drill sergeant scenes! My YA UF protagonist is attending a school for the badass and I'm trying to get her arms class (weaponry training) to be that awesome.

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“What is your name, tuberat!”


I gulped. “D-Drusilla Xao!”


“Drusilla? What are you, a fucking vampire?” The man glared at me.


“No!”


“That’s no, SARGE!” He shouted.


“No Sarge!”


“Say it like you mean it, Dracula!”


“NO SARGE!” I shouted as loud as I could, blushing hard.


“I can’t HEAR YOU!” He shouted. “You look PALE, Drusilla. Do you have a fang-job done?”


“NO SARGE!” I shouted. My face twisted slightly.


“No? You were given a name like Drusilla and you NEVER FUCKING GOT INTO VAMPIRES! I thought VAMPIRES were ALL THE RAGE THESE DAYS!”


“NO SARGE!” I shouted. I couldn’t help myself. I smiled slightly.


“CADET XAO! You have exactly THREE seconds. Three. Fucking. Seconds. To wipe that dump-shit smile off your face before I break your nose and SHOVE YOU IN A C-CHUTE. YOUR BLOOD WILL BOIL OUT YOUR EARS AND YOUR LUNGS WILL TURN INSIDE OUT IF YOU DON’T WIPE THAT SMILE OFF YOUR FACE!”


If there was thing to wipe a smile off my face, it’d be the thought of throwing someone out an airlock – or Casualty Chute, in this case. I’d seen it. Accidental depressurization, keyed by a dumbass kid named Phong. He’d gone past my window before the alarms even started wailing. Tried to hold his breath, too, so when he was fished back inside, he choked to death on his ruptured lungs.


Sarge saw something in my eyes that made him continue. “Does the idea of getting spaced SCARE you, Cadet Xao? Be honest here!”


“S…YES SARGE!”


He hit me. In the gut. I folded up like an inflatable and couldn’t breathe. I almost threw up, but I kept it in. I. hate. Vomiting. I closed my eyes.


“GET BACK IN ATTENTION!” He bellowed. “I WILL NOT HAVE COWARDS IN MY BELOVED CORPS! If you do not learn to laugh in the face of Yama, I will PERSONALLY escort you to Low Earth Orbit and let you BURN ALL THE WAY DOWN!”
I righted myself as best I could, still gasping, my stomach flaring. How did lungs work again?


Sarge shook his head, pushing away from me in disgust. He grabbed onto the wall, facing the lot of us.
[FONT=&quot]
“You may be thinking that I’m a motherfucker, right now. You’d be wrong.” He swept his glare around like a com laser, hitting everyone. “I am the coldest, meanest motherfucker you will ever meet. You might THINK you hate Omar Kaufman’s guts, but by the time I’m done with you, you will think of him with KINDNESS, if only because you’ll compare him to ME. But, where Kaufuckman is a genocidal maniac, I am FAIR. I target no one because of their political leanings, sexual orientation or race. You can be a load of Maoist party fanatics, bomb-chucking adolescent pissants anarchist, frankenfreak transhuman fuckjobs, foreign devils, or even fucking Texans, and I will treat you the SAME. You are ALL equally WORTHLESS!” [/FONT]

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