Guest Post 4 - The Taste of Passions and Blood ~ Sophie Maguire

The Taste of Passions and Blood - 

Resentment. Adoration. Loathing. Obsession.

A thousand different emotions, all landing on the tip of my tongue. Resentment is bitter, and cold, like frozen black coffee; awe is like fireworks in my mouth, bursting and exploding; loathing is hot and still- unshakeable, irradicable; obsession is overpoweringly sweet, horribly, horribly, sickly sweet. Every variation, every form of emotion, feeling, I taste, and I detest. These, these passions, these sentiments. Despair, horror, sorrow, misery, hate, fear, fury on the one side, and

joy, happiness, elation on the other. How few of these positives, in comparison with the irrefutable negatives. Why does my brother insist upon having and experiencing feelings, as these simple humans do, when they bring nothing but pain and loss? Is never needing to have the delicate sensitivities of this weaker race not one of the greatest benefits of our transformation?

I take that back. Not having to participate in these frivolous and quite frankly mentally damaging social experiments the self-serving egoists classified as 'the Government' describe as, 'school', is absolutely the greatest benefit of our Awakening.

"Who are they?" I hear, barely restraining myself from turning to glare at the source of this petulant and whingey voice. Instead, I isolate that girl's particular flavour. Spite, indignation, obsession (gee, wonder who that could be for), and, far more fascinatingly, a dash of fear. I smile faintly, and turn to look at the girl, morphing my face into one of vague boredom. She is a stereotypical 'queen bee'-as I hear a hushed Grade 9 whisper: her hair is styled carefully in honey-blonde curls, so well done they look almost natural, but the horribly artificial stench informs me of their ersatz origins. Her lips, eyes and cheeks have so much make-up on, it's nearly choking me-if in fact I was humanly (or not humanly) capable of choking. The skirt and blouse that hang so well upon her slender frame are at risk of burning my eyes, such an awful shade of fuchsia they are.

My word.

My humanity must be reaching new heights. Who is this silly, puny, pathetic little girl, to weigh so heavily on my mind, and to bear such significance that inspires such vexation within me? For a moment, I contemplate seriously the idea of Secting. No spite, no burdens, no horrific mouthfuls of total revulsion. But Ajax would leave me. And the thought of losing him, of never having my sounding board, is too terrible to contemplate. So, I let the taste of passion roll over me and prepare for the taste of Blood.

~ Sophie Maguire 

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And Sophie has done it again! Her writing style is so vivid and drags you into the story, we love her work so much and we hope you do too! 
We can't wait to see more from you, Sophie! 
See you all next Sunday with another great story or review! 

~ The Teen's Typewriter Team