Isabella Rose
Bio
I am a dedicated author with a passion for fiction. I own a joint business with my amazingly talented co-writer and poet, Raven Black.
Stories (40/0)
- Top Story - May 2024
DevouredTop Story - May 2024
My fingers dance across the yellowed pages of the library’s archaic volumes. Despite the candle illuminating the shelves, I’m not searching for a book. Instead, I’m relentlessly investigating the halls for a door to run from the horrible reality that consumed all our lives.
By Isabella Rose14 days ago in Fiction
- Top Story - April 2024
Pride Comes Before the FallTop Story - April 2024
I stretched in a vain attempt to wake myself up, to just make myself a bit taller, to simply push away the constricting dirt that imprisoned me under the cold surface of the earth. The sunlight beamed as I made my last attempt at growing taller.
By Isabella Roseabout a month ago in Fiction
A Beautiful Night
The rain drops hit the cold stained glass of the window, causing the fragile pane to reverberate in its place. She wrapped her delicate and cold hand around the base of the wax candle, wincing as her feet touched the frozen floor. Shadows seemed to dance as if enticing her to play with them.
By Isabella Rose2 months ago in Fiction
- Top Story - February 2024
Lollipop DreamsTop Story - February 2024
I glared at the ticket placed before me until the typed numbers appeared to be nothing more than squiggles. Tobacco wafted through the dusty air of my cramped apartment. The kitchen faucet dripped; each drop of water vibrating in my ears. Picking up the worn slip of paper with shaking hands, I flipped it over, quickly reading the claim written in bold ink:
By Isabella Rose3 months ago in Fiction
Snow
I was flung from one side of the container to the next. My body banged against the thin nylon of the bag and crashed into some type of jar containing many fragrant beads. The throbbing in my head was only eased by remembering her smile as she ate those round pebbles. What was the term she called it? Coffee! Yes, that’s it, I thought triumphantly.
By Isabella Rose4 months ago in Fiction
The Death of the Wicked
The majestic black feathered bird sat lonely and defeated in his solitary prison looking longingly out of the bars of his tiny cell. The water that the woman brought him was stale and tasted horrible, and his stomach cramped every time he took a drink of the murky and dirty liquid. His black feathery wings once took him far into the heavens, but now his once glossy feathers were found decorating the bottom of his “home” as the thoughtless woman called it.
By Isabella Rose4 months ago in Petlife
A Haunting
THE LIVING ROOM Beaming at him with excitement in her eyes, she quickly pushes the slip of paper into his open palm. Pressing her lips to his, she happily states, “We’re going to the castle to spend a night with the undead,” as she jumps into his arms.
By Isabella Rose4 months ago in Fiction