Christian Sanchez
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Instagram: Chrishoops.15
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Stories (16)
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BIG ANNOUCMENT
Guys I've only been posting for a little on vocal but everyone's kind words have gave me so much confidence, ive decided today I will be writing my first novel at 15! It will be based off my story Greybridge and I cant wait for everyone to see it. Im starting going over the plot and everything today so hopefully it goes well. Thank you to everyone who has enjoyed one of my stories more will be coming as well, just I wanna take this next step!
By Christian Sanchez14 days ago in Fiction
Moonharbor
I sit on the cliff that hangs off of Moonharbor counting the stars. My mom is working late again like usual, and my dad passed away when I was young. After he passed I felt separate from the world. Like someone who watches the world instead of being part of it. I spend days wishing someone would sit beside me, watching the stars, just like me and my father used to. I feel the wind brush my cheek, and play with my hair. The salt of the ocean falls on my tongue, as the dark night silences all emotions. I watch the waves hit the rocks, and admire the moonlight reflecting off the water. I feel a heaviness in my chest, like a stone sitting on my ribs making it hard to breath as I sit with the stars as my only company. I notice the moon is lower than usual, that's strange but we are not too different both lonely in the dark of the night.
By Christian Sanchez22 days ago in Fiction
“The Girl Who Broke Willowford”
It's currently the summer of 1955 my name is James Hale, I live in the small town of Willowford. I work at my local diner, taking the same customers every day, receiving the same meals and life is good. It feels like every week repeats but nobody questions it, that's just how life is in Willowford. There’s a comfort to the routine, a rhythm to the days that never changes. People wave the same way, smile the same way, live the same way. Maybe that’s why I’ve never questioned it — Willowford feels safe, even when it feels strange.
By Christian Sanchez23 days ago in Fiction
Kaelos and Lyla
It was a hot steamy day in Ancient Greece, a city known for its art and marble quarries. The heat is intense and the air smells of dust and olive oil. My name is Kaelos and I carve statues. Statues from gods, to normal people, to animals, bugs whatever you can think of I do. I left at 18 to pursue my passion, sometimes it gets lonely but I pour everything I have into my work and they pour back. Im commissioned by the wealthy cruel merchant to carve a statue of the “Perfect Maiden”. I hate working for him, but I need the money so I accept the job.
By Christian Sanchez24 days ago in Writers
One More Day?
One more day? That's all we have left, one more day 24 hours, 1,400 minutes, 86,400 seconds. I pick you up in my black truck, the same one I will leave you behind in. I pick you up at 8, as we ride to our favorite spot like nothing changed between us, like everything is normal and for today it is. We get a table and sit down, we order our favorite foods, drinks, and appetizers. You sit there beside me with admiration on your face, your blonde hair like the sun in the dark. We drink and eat till our stomachs can't take any more, and then we eat some more. We go down to the dance floor, and dance our hearts out even though both of us have no rhythm. We go to the arcade next door and play games until our thumbs are blue. I win you a stuffed animal, a giraffe your favorite. The pure look of happiness and you squeeze into your new toy, is enough to make me happy for life. You give me a slight kiss on the cheek and lips as you thank me for the giraffe over and over. We then turn in our tickets at the front and she gets me my own toy giraffe. “For we can match”, she says. I take it from her with a grateful smile, knowing this could be the last gift I ever get from you.
By Christian Sanchez27 days ago in Fiction
The Sun Who Envied The Moon
Do you ever wish you were like someone else? Wish you had that dream life, that dream car, that loving family? I wish I was like the moon, she sees the real side of people, when humans are at their most vulnerable they turn to the moon like an old friend. People only talk to me when they’re “happy” but usually they are just faking it.
By Christian Sanchez28 days ago in Fiction
