Johnny Depp Dedicated to Depp Scrivere Competition

Eastern-Rosella posted on Jun 19, 2012 at 07:04AM
I think we should have another writing competition with each work dedicated to Johnny Depp.
The rules are simple - no sexual contents, no swearing and no inappropriate theme. And no more than 1600 words. Completion of work is vital. Good luck to us all.
1st place - 12 props
2nd place - 8 props
There will be no third place.
Closing date: 22 July 2012

Click on this link to vote.
link
last edited on Jul 22, 2012 at 06:58AM

Johnny Depp 3 risposte

Click here to write a response...
più di un anno fa Helena-B-Carter said…
It was late afternoon. The underside of the sun dipped into the vivid, crystal clear waters of the lake. The warm sunbeams reached down and gingerly tickled the soft blades of the grass, and then it stretched up and touched the delightful, limitless sky. Across the lush green field, blossoming flowers flourished. Bluebells, buttercups and pink daisies. Bees hummed, birds chirped, and crickets sang in earnest. This was a scene taken directly from paradise.
Perched firmly in between the passion-blue lake and the field was a mansion. The brick walls were a divine copper-red. The transparent glass of the twenty one windows glistened like chipped diamonds under the sun’s glare. One of the windows revealed a part of what seemed to belong to a grand piano while another revealed a wardrobe.
The mansion could easily have been taken for empty if it wasn’t the lone figure that came into view and took a seat in front of one of the topmost windows. The figure leaned closer and placed one of his hands on the windowsill; the other hand fidgeted tiredly with the curtains.
Half an hour passed, and the sun began to make its journey home. The sunset was a painted combination of a peachy sort of pink, vehement orange, light blue, and the faintest shade of violet. But the man by the window did not move to leave.
Another half hour passed, and the moon was now shining vaguely in the middle of a deserted twilight sky. Still the man did not move. Once, however, he did raise his head before lowering it again.
A third half hour passed, and all but the intense, ghost-white sphere was dark.
This was when the man wearily stood up and turned the lamp on. Through the window, he could see his unclear reflection. There were dark shadows under his eyes, and his refined double-eyelids had glued themselves despairingly into single ones. He opened his mouth and wetted his cracked lips. The man looked into the night and murmured one forlorn word, “Why?”
He absently traced his own eye. He remembered the way she had laughed and said his dark brown, almost black, eyes were soulful. He remembered how she could read him like an open book just by a single glance at his 'soulful eyes'. He remembered how her petal-pink lips would open and form the word ‘Johnny’. Fourteen years were a long time. But it had passed so quickly. It had seemed so… short. He had loved her and she him. So he didn’t blame her for their split – they had, after all, come to the same conclusion together. It was for the best.
But was it really?
The decision had been the easiest, but was it really the right one? He didn’t know. And he probably never would.
And the kids also had to be taken into consideration.
His witty, darling and sassy children. Lily and Jack. Did they really have to either be motherless or fatherless? Maybe. Did they deserve that? Of course not.
He wished he could give them more. They were all he had. It was ironic, really. He had money, fame and influence… And yet he couldn’t even do them one little favor. It was times like these that he hated himself. There were people who thought he was almost like a god; that he could do everything. But he couldn’t – he was only human. A teardrop formed at the corner of his right eye and he blinked it away.
Exhaling deeply, he reached inside his pocket and, for the millionth time that week, took out a photograph. Vanessa was smiling, Lily was smiling, Jack was practically beaming, and even he had grinned into the camera. And Vanessa's windblown hair had been whipping back and forth across her face. He had never taken notice of these things before. It had been taken on a ferry. Everything had been ridiculously perfect back then. Lily had been twelve and Jack had been merely eight.
A tear slid down the side of his cheek, making its watery trail. He fiercely swiped it away . He didn't believe there was any shame in crying - but he didn't feel justified to cry; he had no right. Especially when he was the reason the whole tragedy befell his family.
All he ever wanted was happiness for his loved ones.
But perhaps he could still achieve that and redeem himself.
He would give Vanessa her space.
And his children the love they deserved.
And make up for everything.
And after that, everything would fall into place like a jigsaw puzzle.
After that, the future would be bright.
...Outside the mansion, the sky darkened ominously and it began to rain.

Forgive me if this humble piece of work sounds horrible. My writing skills are getting a bit creaky. I never was very good at portraying people's personalities and emotions. However, I hope this satisfy.
last edited più di un anno fa
 It was late afternoon. The underside of the sun dipped into the vivid, crystal clear waters of the la
più di un anno fa Hermione-Prime said…
The sky was dim, almost fully engulfed by the spreading ink of darkness. The rays of the sun had long ago faded away, as had its warmth. The alleyway I stood in reminded me horribly of the one I had seen years back in Sweeney Todd. Although the shabby and ragged buildings leaned in very close, providing only a narrow cobblestone path, I felt exposed. Dreadfully exposed.
Overhead, a crow cawed on a bare tree with crooked branches that were outstretched like ashen fingers of the deceased.
Goosebumps arose in my arms. I bit my lips, attempting to comfort myself with the thought that crows were far from uncommon in this region. I had studied all about this region…and crows. But despite my efforts, the old wives’ tales I had researched as a little child slithered like a serpent inside my head. People had said crows were witches’ familiars, they had said they were a sign of bad omen; some even said crows were servants of death, presenting themselves in large flocks to the next victims. I glanced at the crow again, and imagined it pecking greedily at my flesh. Not a particularly soothing thought.
I gathered myself up and continued down the alleyway. There were very few streetlights, providing no more brightness than a couple of candles. I could barely see my own shoes anymore, and yet, I saw looming shadows dancing along the walls as I passed beneath a streetlight. That sent a shiver creeping down my spine. I couldn’t help it. “What in the blue blazes is wrong with you?!” I snapped at myself, “You are not a pathetic, needy coward!”
The sky was even shadier than before, and in the distance, I could see thick, black rainclouds advancing unhurriedly, appearing immensely intimidating. I gave an infuriated sigh. My luck just got better.
I had tried to convince myself for nearly half an hour that I knew where I was going and that I would be out of this place soon, after all when had I ever been wrong in lessons? But now, I realised; I was hopelessly and entirely lost. As much as I didn’t care to admit it.
I checked my options. I could depend on my luck and see if I could somehow get out of here, or I could wait around for somebody to find me. Despite that my luck wasn’t the best in the world, I decided on the first. Anything was better than sitting around, surrounded by shadows and imagined ghouls.
As I turned around a corner, I felt something wet land on my cheek. It was cold and moist and it trickled downwards. A raindrop. As the realisation occurred, more began to fall. They rained like tears of the heaven, thundering towards the ground in unison. My clothes; a simple blouse and a skirt made of thin fabric, were soaked through within the instant. Misery and bleakness attacked me from all sides. How was I ever going to get out of this mess?
“Easy,” my logic retorted mockingly, “These buildings were built in the nineteen-hundreds. That is proven by the type of bricks, the peeling concrete foundations and the ancient designs. Though these roads branched out and joined others in those days, the others had all been torn down. This part has been preserved by the law to serve as an attraction. Any idiot would tell you that as long as you do not walk in circles, you will find your way out in two hours as maximum.”
It was times like these that I hated myself. I had knowledge but nothing practical that could get me out of these situations. I didn’t need to know about old building foundations, I didn’t have two hours, I would walk in circles, and most importantly, I didn’t want a snarky voice repeating every bit of useless information in my head.
My own foolishness had got me here. And my brain, a tool which I usually relied on, wasn’t helping me out. I was hopeless when it came to directions. My fear was that I wouldn’t be found until morning, and found as a frozen corpse. It wasn’t likely I’d die, I knew, but the fear still lurked. Despite how childish and idiotically illogical it was.
And then… out in the distance came a flash of red. It was drifting slowly towards me, a small red dot. Red stood out in the blinding rain, which was the only reason my eyes managed to pick it out. The dot grew steadily larger and larger until it took the form of an umbrella.
I gasped out in delight and lunged towards it as fast as my legs would allow me, ignoring the muddy waters that splattered on me like paint.
“Please!” I implored when I reached the lone figure. “Do you know if there is a shelter anywhere near?”
I could tell it was a man that held the umbrella. I could make out the curves around his eyes, his moustache and the high cheekbones. Nothing more than that.
The voice that answered me was deep, rich and mellow, “How old are you?”
I suddenly felt exasperated. Didn’t he understand I was out here and freezing to death? “No older than thirteen,” I snapped sharply. “Look, if my body temperature drops below 95 degrees, I’ll get hypothermia, because the quickest way to get hypothermia happens to be through cold water. Effects of hypothermia include slurred speech, idiocy, numbness, inability to move, and death,” I recited, "and I have no intention of spending the rest of my life as an idiot who doesn't have the brains or capability to count as a result of hypothermia."
There was a moment’s pause. When the voice came back, it held traces of concern, “That is too young to be living alone on the streets. And...uh...the hypothermia thing is interesting to know.”
I flushed crossly as I realised he had taken me for a beggar; a homeless, parentless and penniless girl. “Oh, no! I’m—”
“Are you in need of money?” he interrupted softly. I watched helplessly as he fumbled awkwardly in his pockets before shoving two five-hundred dollar notes in my hand. I became ashamed at how I had taken out my mood on him.
“No!” I protested, attempting to give it back. He caught my flailing hands, “You need it more than I do. Besides, if you know me, you’ll realise one thousand dollars is nothing to me.”
I sighed. This was a kind but persistent man.
“All I want is directions to the nearest shelter, so that I can find a phone and call my parents,” I explained patiently. “We are here on holiday, and they boarded rooms at the Starlight Hotel. Thank you, but the money really isn’t necessary.”
His eyes lit up with comprehension, “I know where Starlight Hotel is! I can drop you off if you want. My car is parked over there.” He made a gesture, “It’s only a ten-minute drive to your hotel.”
Outside his car, I hesitated and recounted the possibilities. Anyone with half a brain would know he had the power to take me anywhere. He could kidnap me, hurt me, lock me away, starve me...the prospects were countless...and by the time my parents phoned the police, he’d be long gone. Gone as quickly as rats scuttled down holes they burrowed.
I narrowed my eyes as he invited me to get in. Ought I to refuse? I took a deep breath and reluctantly lowered myself into the seat. I knew this was a mistake, possibly the second most foolish thing I’d done today.
Precisely ten minutes later, the car screeched to a halt outside the building I had become all too familiar with in the past couple of days, and I had never been gladder to see it.
“I trust you will find your way from here?”
I nodded gratefully, “Yes. Thank you so much. How can I ever repay you?"
“Any time,” he responded.
I pushed the door open and slammed it close before I remembered something.
“Pardon me?” I called through the open car window, “I didn’t quite catch your name.”
He smiled, “That's because I didn't throw it in the first place. It’s Johnny—”
I nodded appreciatively, “Goodbye, Johnny.”
“Bon voyage, and good luck. My full name is Johnny Depp, by the way.”
My mouth dropped open instantly. I whirled around quickly to see his car roaring away. Feeling slightly faint, I grumbled to myself, “What I need is a warm meal, a good book, and some time to ponder things over. After all, you’ve just met You-Know-Who.”
I yanked open the glass doors, adding to myself, “And you need to do your homework too; it’s due in two weeks’ time.”



I'm sorry if my writing does not appeal. At first, I wasn't sure if I was going to post it, but since so few people wrote anything...I decided to risk it.
last edited più di un anno fa
 The sky was dim, almost fully engulfed da the spreading ink of darkness. The rays of the sun had long
più di un anno fa ILoveJohnny2 said…
meh
The sea sparkled under the hot, summer sun. The waves crashed against the rocks and birds chirped in the trees.
My dad and I were driving to his work, he is a producer and interviews celebrities. Today, he will interview Johnny Depp! …And a few other people.
He promised me that he would let me say ‘hi’ to him before the interview.
It took about an hour to reach the studio and by the time we got there, I started to feel tired.
The studio was, from top to bottom red-brown bricks; the door was a thick layer of crimson glass and slid open as we walked up to it. Inside, the walls were painted a deep purple color and the carpet was a chocolate brown, it felt soft beneath my shoes.
There were only two doors in the living room – one on the left and the other on the right. I sat down on the couch closest to me; it was brown leather. A big flat screen TV stood before me. I switched it on and relaxed.
“Mary!” My dad yelled.
A tall, skinny girl with blond hair up to her waist appeared through the right door. She was about four or five years older than me,
“Yes sir?” Her voice was soft and warm.
My dad didn’t answer; instead, he went through the left door. That was his habit, not answering anybody’s questions except in interviews.
Before I could introduce myself, the door bell rang—it was, to me, a very annoying tune – ding dong, ding dong, ding dong, ding dong—and Mary darted to the door. “Hi, welcome!” She said, cheerfully.
“Hi, nice to meet you.” The voice belonged to a man; it sounded surprisingly familiar. My heart stopped.
I heard foot steps approaching. Mary tapped me on the shoulder, “I know you are a fan of him,” She whispered, turning me around to face him.
“Hi,” He said.
“Hello,” I whispered, maybe I was a bit too dramatic because Mary giggled.
“Your father told me about you, Amy, is it?” He held up a small paper bag and said, “Here’s a small gift.”
There was a loud voice in my head, yelling at me to take it politely, and thank him politely. But I couldn’t move a muscle, let alone speak!
“Um…I’ll just leave it here,” He said, placing it on a coffee table. “Your father also said that you have a lot of questions you want to ask me?”
Again, I didn’t move or say anything. After about three minutes of unbearably awkward silence, Mary burst out laughing and collapsed onto the floor. At the same time, my dad burst through the door, “Good morning,” He said, “We’re live in…” He looked behind him, “…two minutes. Then, he and Johnny left.
Mary gave me a huge shove as soon as they were gone. She laughed so hard that she couldn’t stand up straight, “You should have seen yourself!” She yelled
I waited for her to calm down then went and eavesdropped on the interview but all I heard was mumbling, something about Lone Ranger and children.
Then I asked her about the left and right door. “The right door leads to the Green Room,” She said and took me to see it.
The walls, ceiling and floor were completely green. Mary said that this room was the used for filming; the green wall paper is actually green screen.
There were three rooms on the left room, one is the bathroom, the other is the kitchen and the third one is small room set up for interviews.
I asked Mary if all interview rooms are like this and she said, “No, your dad chose this style.”
It wasn’t until we rested when I remembered the special gift.
Inside, there was a $500 voucher for books and a $300 voucher for DVDs and a $700 voucher for clothes! I was happy beyond belief.
Just before Mr. Depp left, I thanked him gratefully for the gifts and apologised for acting very weird.
I asked him the first question that came to mind, “Are you going to act in Pirates of the Caribbean 5?”
“You’ll just have to wait and find out,” He said.
Well, I guess I deserved that, after all, I didn’t answer any of his questions!

OK this is not a really good story but oh, well.