Menu

Menu
Prompts
Contests
Stories
Blog
Directory
Contests
Magazine
FAQ

Emmie Greensgate πŸ—πŸ”šπŸ”šπŸ‘«

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Nov, 2020

Stories (16)
Comments
Library
159 Followers
161 Following

16 Stories

1080 karma pts

?

Cora

Submitted to Contest #77

Deep below the building on First and Main, sixteen stories of glassy, modern tech lab balanced above it, a strange chamber sat, untouched, full of the lights of the monitors monitoring nothing, with a cold stone floor and alarms on the door, reachable by climbing a set of steep cement stairs, and it almost was… waiting for someone?     The chamber wasn’t empty, though. In the middle of the room, walled off by weird, black computers that looked like they belonged in a lab in the forties, two metal chairs were bolted to t...

36 likes 11 comments 11
Read story

Memories in the Snow

Submitted to Contest #77

You know, from the moment you’re born, that you’re meant to be a Memory-Keeper.  As your eyes open for the first time, looking around at the wonders of the world you’ve been born in, you can see the semi-transparent β€œshadows” behind people, looking on with expressions of wonder or sorrow or joy. They all have a blue glow, and are younger versions of the people they follow.  When you leave the hospital (you’re always born in a hospital) you can see hardly-there people standing around, clear like glass and mostly nervous. A man talki...

43 likes 17 comments 17
Read story

Blood, Bone, and Broken Hearts

Submitted to Contest #75

Trigger warning: self harm   Kara had killed him.   I had loved him.   I will never be the same. And so, hatred and vengeance boiling in my blood, I stood on the dark, shadowed street and, raising my knife to the moon, I plunged it into my hand. My blood ran down my sleeve, staining the white red.  It dripped onto the rain-soaked cobblestones, my skin slashed but feeling no pain. "Aeti Aeito Amnada Asara," I chanted, tracing a circle on the ground with my good hand, drawn in my own blood. "I, Akiko Marsadi of the house Ry...

39 likes 76 comments 76
Read story

Lotte Hollow's List of Lies: a Lotte Hollow Story

Submitted to Contest #74

LOTTE HOLLOW'S LIST OF LIES A list by Lotte Hollow, Witch-in-Training Lie #10: The Time I told Billie Manchester I Was a Vampire Self-explanatory title. Billie Manchester was teasing me for being creepy and living in a dark, shady, tree-surrounded house where the plants bloomed toxic purple in the middle of winter, where the paint was peeling and black, where strange lights poured from the windows, where wispy-looking, transparent "ghost-girls" with soulless black eyes seemed to be spied every halloween, where the gnarled, eerie tree...

28 likes 17 comments 17
Read story

Willow: a poetry-verse suspense

Author’s note: Hello, Reeders! Just would like to let you know some things about this story. First: Willow is a continuation of Spices, Rescue, Storm, and John’s Tale, and it really makes the most sense if you start there. All these stories spiral out from Chocolate Kisses, so if you can start there, please do. Not trying to keep you from reading this or give you homework, just letting you know. Second: This is possibly the darkest point of the story, the big climax. Third: It isn’t from the point of view of any of the ol...

30 likes 17 comments 17
Read story

Henry, Harry, Harvey, Horace, and Harold.

Submitted to Contest #73

When you're the fifteenth princess in a royal family with twenty kids, you know that there isn't much chance of you getting the throne.Ever.So what my life is going to look like is this:Fourteen:Get a job, because even a princess must learn a trade before she comes of age. My trade will be art. Fifteen:Start looking for boys you like, or else you'll end up with an arranged marriage and sometimes that backfires and you get stuck with someone you don't like at all.Sixteen:Find a reliable man and get married.Seventeen-eighteen:Establish a house...

38 likes 59 comments 59
Read story

Grace of the Bard (Part the First)

Submitted to Contest #73

I wake up to my phone beeping a steady rhythm. I groan. I've been on tour with Rosaline Height for six days, and I'm so tired I could sleep for a week. It doesn't seem that hard to get out there and do a few dance steps, but if you do that for six hours to your least favorite songs (sorry, Rosaline) in the middle of the night, then it gets you pretty tired. I don't even sleep well anymore. Every morning we fly to a new location, and every night we perform. I don't even get my spotlight-- I'm a backup dancer. The alarm keeps going. And then I...

41 likes 57 comments 57
Read story

John's tale: a poetry-verse story

Submitted to Contest #72

Author's note: The world that Chocolate Kisses started in, despite being the same place, is very different from the modern, twelve-years-later one, and you don't even need to read the first, unless you want to catch up on details like who Emilia is, how come Ellen and Joseph are married, and why their daughter is named Chocolate. The original was very sentimental and sweet, but as we go on, I decided to branch into a sort of mystery-crime-adventure genre, with lots of humor to balance it out. If you would like the story to become a little ni...

38 likes 39 comments 39
Read story

Storm: a poetry-verse spy story

Hi, it's me. Sherry Solomon. You probably don't know me. If you do, then you will not believe what I did last night. I'm pretty sure that it was illegal. Emilia said that she'd call the sheriff if things got out of hand, but we didn't even need him for the rescue.       We were fine. I think. My parents don't realize that I snuck onto private property and ran away with a "kid napped" runaway. So. That's against the law, right? I'm walking to school. Usually Amrita Bell walks with me, but today,the pink-haired ju...

29 likes 14 comments 14
Read story

Rescue: a poetry-verse drama

Submitted to Contest #72

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!"Emilia yells, running at me.I can't see the problem, butit's thrown her into tizzy.She screams some more,slamming into me, andknocking my glasses onto the ground; Ipickthem up, placing the glass frames over my eyes,sending the rioting worldinto clarity. Or near clarity.Nothing is clear right now."AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!" Emilia grabs my shoulders and shakes me a little."What'swrong?" I ask.Oh, nothing, nothing, NO-THING exceptSAMANTHA-JAE wasjust TAKEN AWAYB...

33 likes 25 comments 25
Read story

Spices: a poetry-verse mystery

Submitted to Contest #71

John Kazzer.My foe, my enemy, my worst-friend ever in the history of why, Samantha-Jae, why why why why why why why why. Sick. I feel sick when I see himIt's got to be himIt's got to be.What happened:Ellen's Sweet Treatscame up with a new recipe.Then theplace was robbed.Two hours ago:I went to the scene of the crime (theback kitchen)and found thatafter a careful searchonly one thing was missing.It was a red-orange powder, accordingto Ellen.A spice that she didn'ttell me the name of; thesecret ingredientOnly one perso...

36 likes 36 comments 36
Read story

Chocolate kisses: a poetry-verse love story

Submitted to Contest #71

Ellen twirls down the stairs, carrying a tray of crossants, her cropped, silky blond hair and diamond-blue eyes shining. She's like the Ellen DeGenres of baking. She has the same first name after all. Same eyes. But her hair is softer and prettier, and she is younger. She is dressed in a black and white dress, with a wide skirt, button-up top like an anime character. Me, a character. Her eyes sparkle as she walks into her bakery, from her apartment upstairs. Her employees Ryan and Liza, are standing there, behind the counter, their ...

41 likes 28 comments 28
Read story

Pale Golden Biscuits and a Summer Sunrise

June 5th.It's been a month since Nanni died, and everyone in the family is still looking for her secret biscuit recipe. Everyone but me. I guess it makes me sad to think that someone else will be baking her Pale Golden Biscuits, instead of Nanni. Those were her specialty. But it said in her will that no one got her biscuit recipe except for the ghosts. I got her gold-pearl-obsidian-opal bracelet, the one she never took off and got for her wedding day. It's worth about a thousand dollars, but I'll never sell it. Ever. Mom said I could if I wa...

22 likes 5 comments 5
Read story

Emma and Alexander

Submitted to Contest #71

(Part one, part two coming soon!)Emma rose from her makeshift bed: an old mattress with a curtain pulled around it, leaned against a crumbled wall she had built herself. Like all Poor, she rose with the sun, in a cold, dark alley on the ground, not above the ground in a high building, like the Riches did. She combed her stringy red hair with her fingers, splashed water on her face from a bucket in a makeshift bathroom, pulled on her pale-blue extra-extra-large shirt that hung on her like a dress, and left her makeshift house. Every...

37 likes 19 comments 19
Read story

Kingdom for a Cookie

Submitted to Contest #71

A cookie.The thing that would decide wether my cruel cousin Abek, or me, Grimelda, Crown Princess of Flura, would inherit the throne after my father's untimely death.A freaking cookie.I stepped down the sweeping marble stairs outside the grand palace. The thing was almost entirely open-air, a bunch of round, marble rooms connected by thin opal bridges. I looked like the palace, in a way: long white-blond hair, marble-pale skin, a long, flowy white dress that radiated out to the colors of the rainbow in the train and skirts, and one blue...

31 likes 7 comments 7
Read story