Khedesia Knight
Bio
Writing is really the only thing that makes me genuinely happy. I always want to improve & create stories that make people feel something. If you like stories that will take you for a ride, definitely check me out!
Stories (11)
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The Magician
“Jesus, Verone, you’re bleeding again!” Her brother sighed in annoyance. Sitting in front of her brother in the grass area, far from the procession, the little girl’s chubby hands pressed flat on her nose, attempting to stop the red river, flowing rapidly down her nostrils. Her eyes looked sadly as her brother stomped away to get tissues, his coffin shoes getting dirty from the mud.
By Khedesia Knight 7 months ago in Fiction
The Disappearances . Content Warning.
Rocky Peaks had never been the spot for tourist attraction. A small town nestled between towering mountains and weather of incessant rain, had surprisingly nothing to offer people who weren’t born there. My friends and I would make jokes about it. Laughing endlessly about this being the town not even a Netflix Documentary could be made in.
By Khedesia Knight 10 months ago in Fiction
Chapter 2: The Ill Favored Clove. Content Warning.
SOMETHING IN REGINA WAS NOT RIGHT. There were a lot of things lately, but this feeling was weird. Considering it wasn’t rage, anger, or reluctant helplessness. Turning on her back, yet again, she began to feel annoyed. With a sigh of exasperation, she sat up and turned on her lamp. With a tilt of her head, mouth pouted, she picked up the folded note on her nightstand.
By Khedesia Knight 10 months ago in Chapters
Chapter 1: The Ill Favored Clove
“Clover! It’s time for supper!” An eleven-year-old girl with blonde hair, raised her head from a field of daffodils and began running towards her mother’s voice. Lips thin and uneven, a protruding nose that was narrower than a match, (it was wonder how she could breathe at all), accompanied by arched, slightly bushy eyebrows.
By Khedesia Knight 10 months ago in Chapters
A Dream Brought To Life
can there be cases where reality trumps imagination? “AGH-” The woman let out an agony filled scream before she was knifed to the ground, the weapon protruding out the side of her throat. A cloaked hand grabbed the hilt, twisting it out before stepping over the body and continuing the pursuit.
By Khedesia Knight 11 months ago in Fiction
The Dragon Beside Me: I'll Always Take
I’ve lived on this earth for what feels like a century and I can vouch that the course of a girl’s life is dependent on the amount of love and understanding she receives from society. Nevertheless, women are never seen unless they're overwhelmingly gorgeous; whereas education and intelligence are always displaced. Which is why the first woman who inspires me is Diamonte Harper, otherwise known as Saweetie. Beauty aside, this woman has a bachelor's degree in communication and has used her education to propel her career. Lately, her music has been receiving no static from the public, labeled as “generic,” and a “cash-grab” but the reason she inspires me so much is because of her tenacity. She responds with feedback by improving, getting better and not giving up, which relates to me because as a writer, there’s always this self-doubt I’ll never make it anywhere or that I won’t finish a book. But seeing her go through so many milestones in her career despite the negativity, encourages me to work harder and see feedback as another stepping stone to getting better. The second woman who inspires me, who made her own fire despite being treated frigidly for having dreams that were not “realistic” is Taraji P. Henson. This woman despite being an icon in today’s time, didn’t come from money, nor was she granted a large amount of opportunity as (actors/actresses are one in a million in Hollywood), yet at fifty-three, she has managed to set a precedent that has excelled black entertainment and the way African-Americans are perceived. The true reason she inspires me is because she’s not afraid to advocate for herself. Mistreatment in the entertainment industry isn’t a new issue, and it will probably never be fixed. Unless something is done and someone takes action! The Color Purple press tour gained popularity on social media, for emphasizing the lack of quality black actresses receive both monetary and in personal treatment, that wasn’t a new idea, but obviously was not cared enough to popularize. Taraji could’ve lost everything. Her job, her reputation, her entire legacy—yet she was real with her audience. She advocated for her cast mates in those unacceptable situations, and she taught me to never be afraid of using my voice. To gain any respect and to conserve any respect you have for yourself, an individual needs to stand on their beliefs because it can make things easier for others in the future. The last person who inspires me as well and connects to a situation of mine is Fantasia. I never really knew her until The Color Purple. I knew of her and her majestic voice, but it was in an interview that made me relate and admire her. She had gone through tremendous struggle. From sores in her throat, to bad relationships, all while performing on broadway. My life has never been a narrow road. It has never been straight or perfect or without some type of cobblestone. Nonetheless, when I heard Fantasia talking about God (something I really believe in), having faith in yourself, and seeing tests as testimonies, my view completely changed and for some reason I felt ok. Those four words and her voice have completely changed the way I presently view my life. To know no struggle can defeat me without your permission is a belief that helps me when I fail a test, when my family and I suffer from a lack of money, and when I don’t know how anything in the future is going to go. These three women inspire different parts of my life which I hope makes me a better individual then I am today, but it also encourages me to appreciate the person I am now, before any changes.
By Khedesia Knight 2 years ago in 01
She Cried Golden Tears
Moonlight dawdles solemnly through the window, shining down on hunched over shoulders. Golden tears trickle down from her ebony-colored eyes as she gazes into the mirror. A single tentacle composed of ink streams down her legs, curving over her discarded, red-stained swim clothes, before slithering up to her shoulders and bunching them tight in an inhuman grip. Her body stiffens like cardboard, the oxygen rippling from her lungs as the spiky feeler inches close to her eyes.
By Khedesia Knight 2 years ago in Fiction
