Fierce Fiction Part 4


Meet Isabella,

She is a fierce writer with serious determination and enthusiasm toward anything to do with story. Isabella has heart, she has romance and a touch of drama that will have you reading her Word Warriorz submission and all her other writing. She tells a tale that weaves mother/daughter tension of love and loss.

Her story is sophisticated and thought provoking. She depicts the before and after emotions of a child facing the confusion and grief of growing up and losing a loved one. This remarkable story will leave the reader reminiscing about a simpler time.

Read her story that’s based on the picture prompt

word warriorz 773

[PART 1]

My eyes flicker up and down, exploring the beauty of the green lush nature. A slight breeze tickles my  pale sensitive cheeks.  I look up to see my mother’s skin glowing with happiness, her red lips, and brown eyes.  She looked at me, a blue gentle stare.

“Mother?”  I asked.

“Yes my beautiful?” Her voice soft and lenient, just like her personality.

“Why do you like sitting here, by the Willow tree?”

“It’s at the edge of the forest, where the pine trees smell light and dainty. Isn’t it calming?” She took a deep breath in her lungs inflating and deflating.

The scent of lavender and pine washing over me like the oceans tidal waves, I felt that I could bottle up this scent and turn it into a perfume called piney forest.  My knees stressed as I got up and walked to the streaming river, my bare feet caressing the dark brown wet dirt.  I laid next to the river looking down on my transparent reflection.  I brushed my finger against the cool river. Feeling a special bond with the stream.  It was like my soul was connected, two attracting magnets.  I heard a faint calling for my name, Kimora! Kimora!  I picked myself up and ran back to my mother, it was time to go home.

When I got home I ran up my mahogany steps, smooth and waxed.  And glided onto my fresh white sheets, wrinkling them.  Looking up to the ceiling thinking about the water,  I closed my eyes and fell into a deep lull.

[PART 2]

“Kimora! Wake up! You are in grade ten now, I shouldn’t need to remind you to wake up.” I felt my mother’s presence in my door way, the stream of light grazing into my grey room.  I missed the old days, when mother wasn’t as stressed and was filled with more energy.  Now shes always bustling around dealing with work and our fathers unexpected death.  Everything was gloomy ever since father left us; now mother never goes to the Willow tree where we buried him.

I rolled out from out from under my warm covers onto the hard cold floor and laid there lifelessly scrolling through Instagram and Twitter.

The rush of the school bell makes everyone’s life frantic for a split second.  There was so much to do the books, notes, and the worst… Homework.  My life was so easy, just like everyone else’s, it was a simple routine that never changed.  I’ve asked and prayed for a special part in my life.  I want to make a difference, to be noticed.  Sometimes I wonder if I am put on this world just for God to watch me be bored until I died. It all seemed so… so… pointless.

Chilling at Starbucks with my friends after school was the best part, you just get to relax till we part our ways.

“I got the Caramel Ribbon Frappuccino, what did you get Samantha?” I said, oooh I love the caramel drizzle just to finish it off.

“I got the Ice Coffee.” Samantha said while taking her seat.

“Ugh you are so cliché when it comes to drinks.”

“Says the girl who splurges on a huge frappucino every day!”

“Whatever it fills my sadness.”

“Stop being so emo.”

“I’m not, I’m wearing thy whitest of clothing.”

“What are you trying to do imitate Shakespeare?”

“Nuh uh, I’m trying to write a stinking sonnet for my assignment.”

“Yeah we should start our work.”

After endless hours of employees giving us the stare to leave we finally finish all our work.  It was now eight o’clock, closing time.  I’m thinking they want us out, we’ve been hogging this dark booth for the longest time.

Samantha drove me home in her blue pick-up truck that smelt of Mac Donald’s and Denny’s from the last time we drove around town stopping at each fast food place to grab a meal.

As I walk into the house I saw my mom lying on the couch sleeping, she looked so fragile and cold.  Locking the front door, I went upstairs to our closet and grabbed a thin blanket.  I put it over my mother, “Night.” I said, as I leaned over to kiss my mother’s cheek.

The next day my alarm clock went off, I did the usual, change, eat.  I put my cereal in the sink and walked up to the couch where my mother lay, her tears dampening the brown suede sofa.

“Mom are you okay?” I whispered.

“No…” Her timid voice barely shone through her mouth.

I got up to get a glass of tea going, earl grey, her eye bags dark and puffy.  I don’t think she got any sleep last night.  I gave her the warm glass as she sat up to drink it.

“Now, tell me what is wrong.”

“They city has decided to take down the big Willow tree on the edge of the forest.” She said it.  Straight forward.  The shock over whelmed my body, arms shaking, lip quivering, and image of Father shot into my head.

I sat there, no movement or feeling came out of me.  I was lost in a feeling I couldn’t define.

“When. When are they taking the tree down? Tell me now!” I begged to know, maybe I could stop it.

“In a couple minutes.”

I dropped my back pack and ran straight for the forest.  I left the door wide open, no time to close it.  As I got closer I heard the sounds of the big yellow machines beeping around the area with the construction workers in orange reflecting jumpers.  My head light, breath heavy.

“Wha… What are you doing?!?” My breath was finally catching up to itself.

“Miss, you can’t be here.” One of the men said.

“Excuse me you can’t take this tree down, this Willow tree is special to so many people love this especially me.”

Was this my prayer being answered?  Maybe it was time for me to do something extraordinary, out of this world.  I whispered a quick prayer and climbed the tree.  The light dry bark scrapping of with every step I took.  I went high enough they couldn’t get me but they could still see me.

“It’s against the law to cut down nature with a human on it!” I yelled down so they could hear me.

“You can’t cut down such beauty its precious, these are living things.  I won’t allow it.”

My child, look upon this land.

We are guests.

It is our duty to step softly

And protect this earth.

We may be powerful,

But the land we stand on is tenfold so.

Do not ever think that humans 

Are more valuable than which


“We are going to call our manager or the police for trespassing through the tape.” They said to me.

“I’m staying here and until they show up and give me a good reason they can take down this tree I am not coming down.” I was acting a little too stubborn.

The wind was chilling my ears, I was cold and shivering, I wasn’t going down though.

Soon the manager and police came, I felt bad for starting a ruckus.  But my father was buried in these soils because he loved this tree.

After hours of arguing up in this tree they decided to let it be, I wonder if God changed their hearts or if they just gave up on my stubbornness.

You can make a change, you can do something big and make people proud.

That night I came home my mother asked me where I was, I said defending the Willow tree.  She burst out crying in tears of joy and happiness.

“They didn’t chop it down; it’s going to be there forever.”


By Isabella Ng

“You can make a change, a big change.  As small as you are or as big as you are! Your actions can change the community or even the world.  And as long as you are making good choices God will support and guide you through it.  He is the one who will show you the way.
Nature is valuable, the greens and the beautiful smelling flowers.  Don’t destroy them let them live, they bring us life.  Without nature we’d be living in a dry desert.  PROTECT THE ENVIRONMENT!”

Isabella’s  message of standing strong for what you believe in is profound. A true  word warrior. Leave a comment below and share what you liked about her story. Writing is a grind and it can be scary. Every author needs a community that supports their message so they can B E  B R A V E + write + write + write + write.


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