Welcome to Gaia! :: Artist Gallery

My name's Emily, but most people call me Elmo, Em, Quow, or Sergeant Beef. I'm fifteen years old and love to dance, sing, write, play, read, and act. I love my friends because they're freaking awe-mazing! I'd be lost in this world (well, more so in my state of mind) if it wasn't for them!<br />
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Like I said, I love to write and have written quite a few things in the past seven years. Unfortunately, I've only finished poems (Two of which are published works.), a few lyrics, and some plots--but never a complete story.<br />
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This is me! : D<br />
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Sometimes I can be extremely vain (on days I look good.) And I take pictures like a mad woman. Ha ha.<br />
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My favorite sports would definitely be basketball, volleyball, and swimming.<br />
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I love to cook--mostly it's eggs, banana bread, and cookies. : D <br />
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My all time favorite books are Uglies, Pretties, Specials, and Extras by Scott Westerfield; The Host by Stephenie Meyer; A Great and Terrible Beauty by Libba Bray; The Night World series by L.J. Smith; Marley and Me by John Grogan; Skinned by Robin Wasserman; The Legend of Holly Clause by Brittany Ryan; and Beauty and the Beast by Robin McKinley.<br />
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I love to edit pictures, especially eyes. Here's some of my works.<br />
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I'm currently working on a novel, here's part of it so far. (Right now it is titled Dear Nothingness.)<br />
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Dear Nothingness,<br />
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It's been three weeks since it happened, three weeks since I died.<br />
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There's something nobody ever told me about dying--it sucks. I can't see my reflection, I don't have this amazing aura that the living can sense, I can't fly, only if I focus very hard can I posses someone--and only for a few moments, after that I'm always dead tired. (Haha.) I can't sleep, and I know and hear everyone who talks about me when they talk to me. Like, exactly when.<br />
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It sucks.<br />
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I miss being alive, I miss hugging my mom, kissing her nose before she left for work. I miss hanging out with my friends, writing stories with my sister, flirting with Jason, confiding everything to Rylee, going to parties, trying on new clothes, being a smart-aleck in class, sleeping, and I miss eating--I mean, hello! I'm dead! Don't you think I should at least get some ice cream or something?<br />
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I miss it all.<br />
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I Guess maybe I should try to come up with some good things about death--I can still read--kinda. It's like I get the idea of the book, even the side plots, I Guess that's alright. Kind of cool. I can still write if I concentrate hard enough--but I have to find an open notebook with an uncapped pen to be able to do that... Let's see, what else? Oh, I can now confirm that I wasn't as hated at school as I always thought I was. I can't get sick. I can still see my family. I don't feel pain and I'm indifferent to temperature. No more chances of getting sunburns, heatstroke, or hypothermia!<br />
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Big whoop.<br />
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I'm still dead and it sucks. I can see my family, but I can't talk to them, can't make real contact without hurting their progress in the grief cycle... ugh. This all freaking sucks.<br />
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Sir or ma'am, please take this seriously, this isn't a joke. If you could, please contact--<br />
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Continue on with your life, forget this if you read it, otherwise people'll think you're crazy.<br />
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Analynn sighed as she set the pen down and walked away from the college library, by the time she made it across campus, she could feel that her writing was no longer among the living.

Kyle sat silently at the desk in his bedroom. He had never really been a loud person, but he'd never been a mute, either. Everyone knew he had his reasons--after all, who wouldn't be upset, depressed even, after the death of a close friend. But it wasn't that which made him cry and scream on the inside, no. To Kyle, Ana had been more than just a friend. He had loved her. Kyle had loved Ana for as long as he could remember, and now she was gone. Dead.<br />
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Abruptly, Kyle stood up from his desk and paced agonizingly slow to his window on the opposite side of the room. He looked out upon the dark streets below--empty and lifeless in this part of the city, but in the distance, he could her the low hum of an engine. The sound made him cringe.<br />
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"Ana..." He whispered, recalling her face to his mind. So fragile and kind hearted--beautiful mentally and physically. He missed her brilliant red hair and fantastically grey eyes that impaled everyone who made eye contact. Once she looked at someone, they were hooked--that or they were a complete idiot.<br />
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And idiot like Jason Andrews.<br />
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The guy was a complete loser--most popular guy in school (Next to Jason Smith and Jason Parker, of course.) He was smart, brainwashed, heading for Ivy League basketball--and all of the above he thought was better than being with Analynn Carter.<br />
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Analynn Carter meant absolutely everything to Kyle Williams. She meant love, happiness, life...<br />
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Without her, Kyle was nothing.

"Ana..." Analynn heard her name and in an instant, she found herself in Kyle Williams' room. The look on his face was torn, a look that hurt Analynn so, so much. In life, Kyle had been one of Ana's best friends. He'd been with her for as long as she could remember--in life, she had trusted no one more. Not even Rylee Dunlap, her best "girlfriend".<br />
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Another thing that sucked about death--she couldn't read minds. Kyle wasn't like a book, Ana couldn't get his exact ideas, couldn't read his entire story with just a touch. She couldn't read anything about him anymore. Not his face, not his posture... nothing.<br />
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Kyle seemed to be just an empty shell.<br />
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"Kyle, what are you thinking?" Ana asked out of habit, but he made no reaction to confirm that he'd heard her. A tear slid down her cheek. (That would be an affirmative that the dead can cry.) She heard the oddest, most pitiful, strangled sound--and then she realized that that sound was a sob, and that sob came from Kyle.<br />
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"She didn't deserve to die!" Ana heard her mother scream, and suddenly, she was back at her house in the busier part of the city. She was in the den with her mother and father--her father, though, was passed out at the desk, a mostly empty bottle of brandy next to his head.<br />
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Books were scattered across the floor and still more were flying through the air. There were broken vases on shelves, pieces of glass on the floor. Dirt and plants also helped litter the room. Ana flinched out of instinct when a book hit her in the head, landing behind her. She knew that she should have felt pain, but she didn't. The dead couldn't feel pain.<br />
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For the first time in her life, Ana wished that she could get hurt. At least it would make her feel more alive.<br />
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"Mom, stop. Please mom, just stop!" Analynn screamed when another book made it's flight from her hand. Ana's eyelids drooped and her legs collapsed beneath her. Her eyes teared up in reaction to her yawn--but Ana knew she couldn't sleep. She knew it because for days and days she'd tried, laying on the bed in her room--but consciousness never once left her.<br />
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When she was finally able to lift her head to look at her mother, she was slumped against one of the bookshelves, arms wrapped around her knees with her head bowed.<br />
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"I'm sorry Ana. I'm so, so sorry baby." And for an instant there, her mother looked right at her, and the world felt right again.

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So that's my story so far, what do you think? Comment here on my profile!