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Writing Resources from Fifteen Minutes of Fiction

The following is a piece of writing submitted by amani3g on December 17, 2011
"Not my best work, just something I thought up."

Beautiful Girl


Why won't they just let me go? They are just horrid. These stupid people. They grab at me, with their stupid hands reaching over the stage. They love me. I'm their icon. I'm just an artist, I don't even write my own songs. I just stand on this bright stage, that I swear will give me an epileptic seizure one day, and lip sync to auto-tuned versions of my tone deaf voice. I have a sh*t load of make-up on so that everyone will want to look like my "flawless" face. I wear push-up bras and thongs so that my breasts and butt look good in these skimpy skin tight clothes.

Don't these stupid people see through this? How can they just let me take control of them? I heard this one girl who said that she would kill her own mother for a lock of my golden hair. How do these people live? I'm just like them, but I was just a really pretty girl who met a slimy music producer who had that quintessential line of: "Hey kid do you want to be a star?" What was I supposed to say? Hell ya! I was just 15, I was like every other girl. I wanted to be popular, I wanted to be loved by all the boys, and I wanted to be everything to everyone. Now I'm just an icon. I'm that star than all the boys masturbate to, I'm the star that every teenage girl would die to be, I'm the "it" girl that gets fought over by magazines for interviews.

I'm the girl who just set fire to Hollywood.

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