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When I'm done, I mean. Here is the story if your interested:
I was 13 when I wrote this:
Chapter 1: Nicholas Name (naah may)
"Ms. Shepard, I don't understand this." Shelby had her head ****** to the side, waiting for our seventh grade math teacher to turn away from her boiling hot cup of coffee. Ms. Shepard finally turned around with that harsh scowl on her orange over-tanned face.
"What is it THIS time?! Can't you see I'm busy?!" Shelby's small body quivered at every word. She almost looked like she was going to break under the pressure. After glaring at her for a few more seconds, Ms. Shepard rose out of her seat.
A fly buzzed over her Ziplock baggy of crackers. She swung at the fly, and in her rage, knocked over her mug of coffee. It went down, almost as if it was in slow motion, then splattered a brown mixture over her desk, the classroom tiles, and the carpet.
"Man!" I thought silently to myself. This would just make everything harder on me. Ms. Shepard's beady eyes pierced an imaginary hole in Shelby's head. As her eyebrows continued to furrow deeper than anyone thought possible, my class shuddered. Shelby hid her head in her hands, bracing for an attack.
"This is all YOUR fault!" Ms. Shepard inched towards Shelby. I was sitting directly behind Shelby, so from my angle, it almost looked like Ms. Shepard was glaring at me. It was a very uncomfortable feeling. Ms. Shepard stuck her finger in Shelby's pale, frightened face.
"While the rest of the class goes to lunch, I want YOU to stay behind and clean this place up!" Saliva flew out of her mouth as she screamed, showering all over Shelby and I. I shielded myself with my raincoat.
"Sheesh, Ms. Shepard," I paused in mid-sentence to make sure that the class was focusing on me. They all covered their mouths with their hands in anticipation. Then I continued, "I didn't know that rain was in the forecast today!"
A few snickers were heard around the classroom. Ms. Shepard turned even more orange, but recovered quickly. Suddenly, a crooked grin broke out on her face.
"It wasn't NICHOLAS," she knew that I hated to be called by my full first name. She continued, “so I guessed you wouldn't mind it if I took..." She reached her old wrinkled hand out and tugged at my jacket. When she realized that she couldn't get it off that easily, she gave me a look.
I returned it with a smirk, and said, "Oh, did you want this?" and slid it off. She snatched it up. The class snickered a little louder. Ms. Shepard snapped, “What’s so funny?!" and they averted their eyes.
She turned to me, “You have a lunch detention as well, Mr. Nicholas NAAAH MAAAY." She dragged out my last name, mocking me. "Yes, you get to prepare the PERFECT cup of coffee for your FAVORITE teacher."
"Sure, I'll make you some coffee." I said. "Besides, those poor teeth of yours need a break from grinding up all those coffee beans."
Ms. Shepard's eyes turned red with rage. It looked like they were bleeding. My class tried hard to suppress their laughter. "She looks like she's got Pinkeye..." I muttered under my breath. Those nearby me busted out laughing. "Nickname's done it again!" the guy behind me whisper-shouted.
See, my name is Nick Name, pronounced 'nah-MAY’ . But since it looks like the word nickname to most people, that's what everyone calls me. When people noticed my name for the first time, I was teased a lot. But after awhile, I embraced it and begin giving other people and things nicknames.
Ms. Shepard slammed her palms onto Shelby’s desk and bellowed, ”Nicholas! We will discuss your punishment in private! For now, I want you all out of here! Everyone EXCEPT for these two brats!”
The class raced out in a panic, and ran to the cafeteria. On her way out, I heard one girl whisper to another frantically,”…crazy lady will kill them! She’ll probably eat them for lunch!” The other girl whispered back, “Let’s get outta here! There’s no telling what that witch will do!” The first girl whispered again, “Maybe she’ll feed them poisoned apples…’
Finally they ducked out the door. When the last person left the room, I took a deep breath. I had a plan that I HAD to pull off during this detention. It determined whether Ms. Shepard would ever teach or live, ever again. And it involved something very similar to a poisoned apple.
Chapter 2: 30 Minutes of Hell
I’ve gotta admit, lunch detention was nerve wracking, but I had promised myself that I would pull it off today. The plan, I mean. But before I tell you what happened, let me say that Ms. Shepard is the most evil person…EVER. And everyone knows that I am the student that she hates the most. She was my fifth AND sixth grade teacher. When my parents found out about her ‘stalking’ me, they wanted me out of her class.
“It’s not right for teacher’s to play favorites, “ my mom had said. My dad was a bite more cautious. “Crazy people live here in New York. We need you outta that class!” He didn’t like how she followed me all the way into middle school.
Anyways, everyone says she’s going to kill me on day. One of my friends joked that she was like a tiger hunting. In fifth grade, she was crouched down, waiting for the opportunity. Then, in sixth grade, she was in the middle of making her leap. At the beginning of seventh, she was about to land in for the kill. And that’s exactly what she did. I am POSITIVE that Ms. Shepard was responsible for the death of my mom. But there is no physical evidence.
It had been a week after the mysterious murder when I came up with a plan. I wanted that lady dead. Every day since the murder, when I walked into her class, she’d give me some sort of clue as to the fact that she had killed my mother. The day before my mom was murdered, she made me stay after class.
“Tell your mother I said good-bye,” she had said. My mom often traveled because of her job, so what Ms. Shepard said had had a double-meaning. I tried to talk to the police about this, but they said that I was going through a common stage of the grieving, and sent me to see a psychologist. Now on to my story.
After the rest of the class had left for lunch, Ms. Shepard gave Shelby and I the evil eye. Shelby shook with fear, but I… actually, I can’t remember WHAT I was doing. I was lost in thought.
Anyhow, Ms. Shepard finally broke the silence and turned to Shelby. You can probably tell by now that Shelby is a small, timid little girl who doesn’t cause trouble. But Ms. Shepard spoke to her like she was some kind of escaped convict. She kept saying, “OR ELSE!” at the end of all of her sentences-even if it didn’t make sense. She knew she was freaking Shelby out, and was enjoying every minute of it.
“YOU, Shelby, can get some soap and paper towels and clean up that coffee spill! OR ELSE!” Then the hag turned to me. “And YOU, Nicholas,” She paused. She knew that I hated people to call me by my full name, “YOU have the privilege of making your DARLING teacher a fresh cup of coffee!” My hands unconsciously flew to my jeans pocket. “And what a privilege it is, Ms. Shepard.” I said as I passed my fingers against the bottle in my pocket. Ms. Shepard showed me to her coffee pot in the other room which she had named Henry.
“Henry, this is Nicholas. Nicholas, Henry.” She attempted to smile, but it came out as a scowl instead. Ms. Shepard began explaining how to use ‘Henry’ while I tried my hardest not to laugh. She seemed to be serious. As she was nearing the end of her explanation, a crash was heard.
“Oops!” we heard Shelby exclaim from the classroom. Ms. Shepard, fearing the worst, yelled over her shoulder for me to figure out the rest and raced to Shelby’s side. She’s pretty fit for an old lady. “What great timing,” I thought as I slipped the contents of the bottle into the coffee pot. But the time the coffee was finished, Shelby had been sent out of the room in tears.
“I can’t take it anymore! Get out! Get OUT!” Ms. Shepard was yelling after Shelby. I hurried to bring the coffee to Ms. Shepard. “It’s finished!” I chirped. But I guess I seemed too chipper, because Ms. Shepard offered me a drink from the mug first. She had suspicions that I had done something rude to her drink. “Come on, I’m sure that you’d like it if you made it yourself!” She had a smug smile on her face.
I would have to take a sip of the concoction or she’d NEVER drink it! So I got another much and took a bit. “A little toilet cleaner never hurt anyone…” I thought to myself as I drank the coffee. I had to load it with sugar and make it very strong to block out the bleach-y smell of Pine-Sol. It actually wasn’t bad. Aside from the slight burning sensation in the back of my throat.
Ms. Shepard watched as I downed my sip of coffee. When I was finished, she took a sip. Then another. And another. Until FINALLY, she had finished. I was surprised that she hadn’t complained. “Good job Nicholas,” she said. Then she sent me off to lunch.
Chapter 3: Mixandra
That Friday night I couldn’t sleep. When we had gone back to class after lunch, Ms. Shepard wasn’t there. The principal was, and he explained that Ms. Shepard was in the hospital. “She is in critical condition, but the doctors can’t figure out what the problem is. If you noticed anything different about Ms. Shepard, or have the slightest idea what might be wrong with her, your comments would be greatly appreciated.” I felt like he was staring straight at me as he said that. but nobody could suspect me. Yet.
In seventh period, the last class of the day, people kept passing notes and whispering. I even thought I saw a few kids point at me. At first I brushed it off, thinking it was all in my head. But I could have sworn I heard someone say the word, ‘coffee’, and I started to get really nervous. Luckily, I had planned for this.
In case I suspected I had been found out, I had left a large hiking backpack filled with food, water, a tent, blankets, etc. in my locker. I figured that could last me a while until I could find a place to stay if I had to make a run for it. Just then, there was a call over the classroom intercom.
“Mr. Parkson?” a female voice said. “Yes ma’am.” replied my teacher. “We need Nicholas Name in the seventh grade office please.” Mr. Parkson glanced at me, and when our eyes met, he flinched a little. He managed to stutter an OK, and motioned for me to leave.
At this point, you can’t even imagine how I felt. I tried my hardest to look casual, and got out of my seat. On my way out the door, I passed a guy with white blond hair. He whispered, “Did you do it?” to me. I tried to give him a blank stare as I whispered back, “ Do WHAT?” But I didn’t give him a chance to reply. I just walked quickly out the door.
I knew one thing for sure. I was NOT about to go to the office. So I headed to my locker. I looked around quickly once I got there. If someone saw me leaving with a backpack, I’d be questioned. I thought that the coast was clear, but suddenly I saw a man walk around the corner. He did a double-take when he saw me.
“Where are you going with that backpack Mr. Name?” He gave me a stern look. “How do you know my name?” I asked. Suddenly I realized that he was the new vice principal. I was still shocked that he knew who I was and how to say my name, because we had never met before.
“That’s not important,” he said. “Come with me.” He turned and began walking towards the office. My first instinct was to buck out of there, but he was young, and looked pretty fast. Plus I would be handicapped with my fifteen pound bag. I decided to fight. His back was still turned, so I reached down and picked up a couple of rocks.
“I’m sorry,” I said as prepared to launch the rocks. “It’s not me you should be apologizing to,” he said as he reached for the walkie-talkie at his waist. “Actually, I mean I’m sorry for THIS!” I started chugging rocks at him. When he turned around, one smacked him right in the nose. He held his face and cried out with tears in his eyes. His nose was bleeding! He snatched up his walkie-talkie, and spoke angrily into it. “I’ve got him! He’s running towards the parking lot!”
I ducked around the corner and began running towards the ladies room. Earlier on, I had plastered an ‘Out of Order’ sign on the door to keep everyone out. Now I was hoping none of the janitors had looked into it. I opened the door and dived in. But then my jaw dropped down. A girl was in here! Now I know that sounds pretty dumb, since it IS the ladies restroom, but the sign on the door should have kept everyone out!
The girl’s head shot up, and she dropped the bag of chips she had been munching on. “Nick! The guy’s room is on the other side!” That’s when I realized it was only my friend Alexandra. She had been eating a texting on her cell in here all period. She saw my backpack and grinned. “So you’re skipping class too? By why seventh period?” She gave me a confused look.
“Keep it down! They’re after me!” I panted. “My bad. Don’t worry. Nobody’s in here.” She replied. “Shh!” I said. I had heard the static from the walkie-talkies outside. “Shoot, you got the whole staff after you!”
Now I was getting angry. “Shut UP Mix!” If they heard people talking in an out of order restroom, they would get suspicious. “Ay, I ain’t the mixed one. You’re the half Asian half white boy. I’m 100% Latina!”
“Mixandra, look. The police are out there trying to arrest me! You’ve got to be quiet!” I called her Mixandra because of her dream to become a DJ. “The policia?” she whispered.
We stood in silence for a few moments until Mixandra lost her patience, which she really doesn’t have much of. She pulled out her cell phone and began furiously texting something. Then her face lit up.
“Check it Name! I’ve got something!” She shoved the Motorola in my face. The small colorful screen read:
OK. GOT A PLACE 4 U 2 STAY. SWING BY DA BASE.
She tugged excitedly on my arm. “Vamanos!” Mixandra really can’t speak much Spanish, but whenever she gets a chance, she does. “Hold up, where are we going?” I didn’t hear anyone outside, but I was still hesitant. “A friend! You’ll like him! Promise!” She smiled. “His name’s Alejandro! Come on, it’s not like you have anywhere else to go.”
She had a point. “Don’t you even want to know why the whole school’s after me?” I asked. “I’d rather not. But don’t worry about it! Alejandro doesn’t know about that. I just told him that you are running away from home…like me.”
“You’re running away?!” I was shocked! “But you always said that would ruin your chances of majoring in music!” Alexandra rolled her eyes. “Si, but that was BEFORE I met Alejandro. He’s got great music contacts. And I can trust him.”
She explained how she was planning on going over to his ‘base’ in about half an hour, but when she told him about my urgent situation, he told her to come by now. She told me how Alejandro had tons of things at the base.
“Computers, TVs, video games, you name it, that man has it!” Mix looked pleased. “All that belongs to him?” I whispered as I pushed open the bathroom door. “How old is this guy?” “Sixteen, and he just got his Driver’s.” Mixandra seemed proud as she said, “He’s a high school drop out.” “WHAT?!” I whisper-screamed, “What’s wrong with you?! For all you know, he could have STOLEN all that crap!”
“Nick, he didn’t STEAL it. His parents were rich! They left him a fortune!” “So he dropped out to take care of runaways?!” I retorted. “Come ON, Mix! I thought you were smarter than that! Or maybe your going to tell me he’s your BOYFRIEND, now? Is-” she cut me off. “Don’t talk to me about intelligence, ok? Who’s the one getting chased by the po po? Now I wanna know what you did!”
I sighed, ”You don’t wanna know.”
“Does it have anything to do with all the sirens I’ve been hearing?!”
“…Yeah…Look, Mix, I’m sorry. Maybe I CAN trust him. After all, it take a long time before YOU can trust someone…”
“That’s okay,” Mix said. “Come on before the school staff finds us…”
Dear Sherry
As I woke up, I shielded my eyes from the sun that poured through the oak window. My body laid in crisp white sheets as flashbacks rushed through my mind.
“‘…Do you want to?’”
“‘…I don’t know, I don’t think we should.’”
“‘…We’ll be fine, don’t worry.’”
I pushed myself up against the bed’s backboard and rubbed my temples, I felt nauseas and sore. I climbed out of my warm bed, rapped a bed sheet around my body, and twisted it into a knot above my chest.
Items seemed in disorder as I walked through my loft bedroom. While glancing over the loft, I spotted a folded piece of paper leaning against the vase on the dinner table. I unfolded the paper and began to read the note.
“Dear Sherry,
Thanks for a great night. We should do it again sometime.
Ps. welcome to the world of AIDS. -You’re Infector”
Thump thump, thump thump.
My heart raced. I felt numb; there was something in my throat that I
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just couldn’t swallow. The note dropped to the table, knocking something to the floor. My eyes never wandered to the floor, my heart ached too much to care.
Once again, flashbacks raced through my mind from the begin of the night to the end.
“‘…Would you like to dance?’”
“‘…Sure, I’d love to.’”
The words, “Your Infector.” echoed in my mind. “Tommy? Tom? Tomas? Timmy? Troy?” I repeated to myself trying to remember his name, for the alcohol fogged my memory.
“‘…Hi, I’m Tristan.’”
“‘…Hey, Nice to meet you. I’m Sherry.’”
I paced around the loft as tears moistened my cheeks. The bed sheet fell to the floor as I walked to the bathroom and started the shower. Immediately, steam filled the tiny plain room and fogged the mirror.
I closed my eyes as the water poured from the showerhead onto my face. “I can wash it away, everything will be alright.” I kept repeating these words, trying to fool myself into believing them, even though I knew it wasn’t true.
When I was in the shower I felt pure. Turning the knob all the way to the left was the hardest thing to do, my moment of purity was over and I
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was insecure about everything.
I stepped out of the shower; right foot, then left and wiped the mirror clear of fog. While checking my reflection, in the smudged mirror, an unclear figure crept behind me and passed through the door. Puddles of water formed under my feet as I followed the figure through the doorframe.
“Who’s there?” I received no answer.
Thump thump, thump thump.
My heart raced. I peeked around the wall, that separated the bathroom from the living room, and held my breathe. The floor crept under my feet as I approached the dark figure.
My hand shook as I reached for the overcoat that covered a body.
One, two, three. Swoosh, the overcoat fell to the ground.
Beep, beep, beep. “Good morning New York City, you’re listening to W.T.B.A and its 7:00 Am. It’s starting to feel a lot like winter with a temperature of 34°F, time to take those winter jackets out of the clos-”
I slapped my hand on the off button, as the alarm clock fell to the floor. My body jerked up and I scratched my neck gasping for air. Confused and unsure of myself I got out of bed and inspected my loft. I glanced at the vase and to my surprise, there was no note waiting to be read. My eyes wandered around in concern and fear that someone was lingering within my loft.
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It was 11:00 Am, and I was waiting for the paper boy to drop of my paper. I sat in my overstuffed chair and light filled the room, as I turned the
television on. “Breaking News” flashed on the screen. I tried to listen to the report, but when the young news caster said those words, “The Infector”, my heart sank.
Boom, boom, boom. I walked to my door, opened it, and picked up the fresh newspaper. The front page read, “Young women meet their infector.”
I ran my hand under my eyes to clear the tears. This can’t be happening, I thought. “Was it a sign? Could I have helped them?” I kept asking myself questions that couldn’t be answered. I turned off the television, put the newspaper on the dinner table, and ran into my bedroom to change. I pulled a jogging suit out of my bureau and grabbed a pair of Nikes out of the closet. I rushed to put everything on and I ran out the front door. While on the fourth floor, I clicked the auto start for my car and continued jogging down two more flights of stairs.
I had to clear my mind, driving into the quiet country would help sooth my shaken nerves. I drove to a familiar place, where my mother and I took daily walks together. We called it The tranquil pond. The little crystal clear pond held an abundant amount of lily pads. Catninetails were sporadically placed around the pond and in the cluster of trees you could
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hear the baby birds chirping high in their nest as their mothers fed them.
This was the one place I could clear my mind and forget about everything. I
laid on the green ground and watched as the puffy white clouds passed by. Some were short and fluffy and other were long and skinny but
every single one look beautiful against the deep blue sky.
The sky turned grey. Within minutes I was once again in a pure moment, with water gently sprinkling my hands and face. It felt bizarre; laying there like a lifeless weed, with its roots soaking up the water, waiting to bloom into a beautiful flower once again. Memories of my childhood rush through my mind as I walked to my car; with my head still looking to the clouds.
“What would she tell me to do right now?” I pondered
“Mom? Are you up there, Mom? Well if you can hear me I really need you to me help right now! I think I can help these poor women, but the truth is I’m scared. I don’t know what to do, I need you Mom, I need you more than ever right now.”
I lowered my head and continued walking to my car. The windshield wipers moved left to right in attempt to clear the now torrential rain. On the car ride home all I could think about was my mother. She had been my world from the age of seven, when my father died, till the day of her death. My mother had died from a doctor’s misdiagnose. The Doctors kept telling
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her she suffered from the Flu, but my mother knew she was very sick, and
it wasn’t the Flu that caused her to become fatigued and receive rashes.
She had AIDS. My mother was a nurse. When she was pricked by a dirty needle she knew it would only be time before she started getting sick. My mother died two years ago, when I was twenty one. Thinking about my mother made me tune out all my surroundings.
The hour ride home seemed like only fifteen minutes. There were no parking spots on the street. That meant I had to park in the garage, on the side of the apartment building. The garage was dark and humid. A sinister feeling gathered in the steamy air. Footsteps echoed as I walked to the Exit door. My heart began to beat rapidly when I discovered the echoed footsteps were not mine. I glanced over my shoulder and found no one pacing behind me. I turned the corner in front of a sliver Honda and looked into the round mirror that was mounted onto the wall above me. In the mirror I spotted a man clad in black, crawl behind the small Honda.
“Who’s there?” I shouted demanding an answer, but received none. “I said who’s there? Come out I know you’re behind there!”
My heart was in my throat once again. I weaved through the cars, hoping the man would not follow my demands. Footsteps echoed in the garage again. In fear, I dropped to the ground and pulled myself under a large SUV.
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“Who’s hiding now?” a man shouted, breaking the silence.
I kept my head low to the ground, watching the floor to see when his
feet appeared in front of me. I hid, silent, for what seemed forever.
“I know you’re in here. Come out; come out, wherever you are.” There was a brief pause. “Oh Sherry Dear, why don’t you be a good little girl and come and play with YOUR INFECTOR!”
A pair of blue Nikes appeared in front of the SUV and it felt as if my heart had stopped beating. I held my breathe; trying not to make a sound. I watched as the Nikes walked by my hiding spot. Hot air was released in relief. My body laid still, in fear he would come back. His sneakers were nowhere in sight, but I heard the heavy footsteps, pounding on the concrete.
My ankle ached; I looked over my shoulder straight into a set of evil eyes. My skin scraped again the cement, as I was being pulled.
“Please, stop!” I pleaded. “Let me go!”
My foot slammed into the side of his face. The evil man let go of my ankle and held his face as he knelt on the ground. I crawled out from under the car, and began to run away, in fear for my life.
“Who are you?” I sobbed.
“Who am I? You mean you haven’t heard of me?
I did not answer the mystery man.
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“Sherry, It’s me Tristan.”
I hid behind a pile of boxes next to the elevator. I closed my eyes,
hoping when I opened them, I would awaken from a dream; This never happened. He was close, his scent lingered after he walked by the boxes. He didn’t make a sound, which made it harder to tell where he stood.
“Boo.” Tristan whispered as he crashed the boxes.
He pulled me away from the wall and did what he pleased.
“Stop please.”
I laid there on the cement numb. Not crying and barely breathing. Rolling to my side I attempted to pick myself up. My body was weak, and I fell to the ground. My second try was a success. I walked slowly to the exit door being cautious with every move. As I exited the garage, my eyes grew wet. I collapsed in the middle of sidewalk sobbing uncontrollably.
“Sherry Williams. Sherry, can you hear me?”
I heard a man mumbling but I couldn’t make out the words. Slowly, I opened my eyes and looked around. I laid on a chilled slab in a room that was filled of pictures from my past, me and my mother at the tranquil pond, my father and I at my sixth birthday, me reading my first book, and tons of other photos I had never seen before. There was a large blank screen on the wall in front of me. It looked like a projector screen but there was no projector in the room. As I glanced around, I found no windows, nor doors.
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A puff of smoke exited my lips as I spoke softly. “Hello.” I whispered.
“Where am I? What happened?”
I sat up, and twisted my body to hang my legs over the side of the stainless steal slab. A chill shot up my spine as my bare feet touched the tiled floor. I wrapped my arms in front of me, and my lips quivered. It was cold. Spider veins began to show in my pale legs and arms.
Where was I? I wonder. How did I get here? I paced around the white room, looking at the many pictures. The one that caught my eye was one that I had never seen before. It was of me, my mother and father. I had to of have been about two years old and the three of us were cuddled in my parents bed. It must have been winter, you could see the fluffy white snow that covered the yard through the window, I laid between my mother and father fast asleep. You could see the passion in my parents’ eyes for each other. My father was gently kissing my mother’s forehead as she smiled with glee. We looked like a picture perfect family.
“She‘s in a comma from the trauma, is there anyone from her family we can call?”
“No doctor, she has no one. Her father died when she was seven and her mother pasted ago two years ago.”
“Okay, just keep an eye on her and let me know if there is any improvement. I‘ll find someone for this poor girl."
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“Yes doctor.”
I heard the mumbling voice again but I could make out his words. I
looked around trying to see where this voice was coming from. I walked over to the blank screen and gently ran my fingers over it. With the touch of my finger tips the blank screen flashed on. It began to play video clips of my childhood. Birthday parties, family reunions, and my father’s funeral. As I watched my fathers’ funeral I began to wish he was here. The more I began to think about him, more videos of him played. It seemed as if what I was thinking about was being played on the screen. How can this be I wondered? I started to think of my mother and she showed on the screen.
“Is this here to help me? What am I suppose to do? ” I shouted in an empty room.
I sat on the chilled tile floor with my legs crossed and my head lowered in my hands. I began to think of the garage. The smell of that man. His cold touch. His taunting voice. The icy blue eyes that held nothing but evil. I raised my head and looked towards the screen. There were small photos collaged together. Those icy blue eyes, his lips, his blue Nikes and his black jacket. The more I thought about him, more pictures flew onto the screen.
THE GRAVEYARD BET
“......ages ago an old man was buried in the grave down the road, had actually been buried alive”, I said. “If you tried to go near his grave you can hear him scratching at the lid of his coffin”, I bluffed them because this is how I earn money and attract visitors to my village.
A cherry fire was burning in the grate, forming weird shadows on creepy old wall. I and a foreign couple were sitting inside an old hut, roofed by straw and hay. The room smell like a dead rat. There was no other house nearby. The couple were sitting together cuddling inside their blanket as they listened to my ghost story. The girl had long, golden-brown, silky, hair and blue dazzling eyes. She was about 20. The boy had short hair, muscular body, he looked brave and fearless. He wore a black leather jacket with silver colour button.
Suddenly, the clouds obscured the bright moon light, and the whole area surrounding was filled with a sense of anger and malice. The tall trees were standing lifeless in the mist like huge, monstrous and towering skeletons waiting for us outside. One by one the rain droplets begun to lunch from the clouds and attacked the pitiable old hut. Little droplets of water were bleeding through its roof.
“Whoever visits the graveyard at night, around this time, they will never return back”, I said. I could see the girl’s watering eyes peeking from behind her blanket but her husband was not terrified. “It sounds interesting tell me more about it”, asked the boy curiously. “Even today people say they see a gloomy white figure of a man wandering around the grave”, I said. The man looked even more curious, “I want to see it with my eyes, I think I have to go there tonight”, he said.
As he said that I was worried. I thought he will know the truth that I had lied them. So, I tried to stop him from going there, “No, no it is dangerous for you, you might never return back”, I said. “Don’t be afraid my friend i will be fine there is nothing like ghost and even if it is there, waiting for me, I would like to meet it”, he said.
“No darling please don’t go there, it sounds like danger and I will be alone here”, Said the girl to her husband in a frightened voice. She stopped him from going there, at the grave yard. I was relieved. I thought he would know the truth. That night I slept proudly because another person had been trapped in my trap like a fly trapped in spider wave.
But next morning the man was not in the hut. We thought he had gone down to the village to see the beautiful scenery. We waited him for long time but h didn’t return. We started to search for him we looked everywhere but didn’t found him. I was looking outside through a small window of the hut. I saw crowd of people near the graveyard down the road. I and the girl hurried down the road to see what had happened.
“Harry......eee.......” the girl cried. Tears started to roll down her beautiful eyes as she saw her husband lying dead in the grave yard. I myself was also shocked. There was no sign of blood near his body. I asked the man beside me. The man explained, “Last night at around 12 o’clock I was passing down the grave yard I saw him there, in the graveyard, searching for something. He looked scared. So, I went and caught him from back but.....”
“But...but what?” I asked. The man added, “He thought that the old man ghost had reached him from behind and caught him. He died of fright....
Tick tock, goes the clock
I hear a bell, and think "oh ____!"
I'm going to be late, for my very first date
It's gonna end with a kiss, he'll almost miss
In the middle we'll see a movie, totally groovy
He's going to look into my eyes, and next a surprise
But I'm not even ready, because my timing is unsteady
i haven't put on my dress, and i feel like a mess
I panic inside, for now i just wanna hide
Feeling like I'm going to throw up, when my mom says "hurry up!"
She opens the door, and my feelings multiply more
As i finish my hair, she laughs "Hey their!"
Then i slip on my gown, oh theirs my tiny crown!
I descend down the stairs, hoping i won't trip on my brothers stuffed bears
Oh gosh he looks great, can't believe he's my date
with those deep eyes stunning, he looks so cunning
that perfect face, makes my nervous heart race
he's got that lushes hair, i think i need to sit in a chair
Then he turns his head, wow is what he said
i feel so shy, and it looks like my moms going to cry
he shots a huge smile at me, and i think "hee hee"
when i get all the way down, my mom starts acting like a clown
so i take out my jacket, when my dad tells him stern warning racket
now i walk to him, out pops my nervous grin
he sticks his hand out for mine, boy I'm feelin' fine
i take his hand and head for the door, happy i want this moment forever more
outside we head into the brave new world, I'm so happy that i almost twirled
the stars filled the night, but he was the best site
we get to his car, not going to far
then we pull away, and i think going off the drive way:
"I hope the rest will go great, on my very first date"
I'm doing a short story and poetry collection with my friend for a project. Here are a few, the short story i have is just the very beginning, but ya...
Dain Bramaged
“Hey Jersey” it was Puppy Dog, he ran to catch up with me. “I wanted to give you this before you go.” He said out of breath. Out of his leather jacket, he produced a sleek, shiny gun. “It’s loaded, so be careful” he said his tone filled with worry, I’d never done this before. The gun was heavy in my hand, I brushed it with my free hand feeling its cold and smooth power, power that could explode at any moment if I wanted it to. It made me feel tough. “ use it carefully” Puppy Dog warned “ You don’t want to get in any trouble with the law, Sniper will wring your neck if he has to save your f*****g ass by some foolish mistake, he’s already not to fond of you taking on this job, so think, before you act, that’s all I’m saying.” “And goodbye!” he said, pulling me in for an unexpected hug.
“Take it easy Puppy Dog.” I would miss him that was for sure. I put the gun in my jacket and headed towards my destination, him to his.
My house is a small, dirty white cottage type house, located on the premises of a very weedy plot of land, on Montrose Drive. You had to be careful walking up the steps leading to the porch, I had a feeling that they would collapse any day now. The sun was sweltering, leaving me sweaty, and stinky. I opened the screen door, only to reveal emptiness, and a nasty stench coming from a moldy bowl of oatmeal. I went to go dump the bowl of oatmeal away, but in my doing so, I tripped on one of my brothers trucks, leaving me sprawled on the floor, kinda pissed. I pulled myself up unsteady at first, but regaining my balance. It wasn’t until then that I managed to get the bowl of moldy oatmeal to the kitchen sink. I made my way to my room, and opened my door, to my cluttered but homey room, every inch of the wall covered in posters, and every inch of the floor covered in stuff. I was not the most organized person in the world. I plowed over to my bed, and lay down. I groped around for my headphones, and at last found them, and drowned myself in the world of music, a place where I wish I could always be. I started drifting off when a crash came from the front of the house. I sat up and listened.
“Shit,” “Shit, shit, shit” I got off my bed and went to the front porch, where my mom stood one foot on solid ground, the other stuck in the front step. “Oh, hi darling.” My mother said noticing me in the doorway, not acting in the least, as if her foot were stuck in her porch. “Bout time this broke.” She said smiling at me.
Beauty is a Strawberry
You grip the rose, even though it hurts.
You keep the pain, even though you bleed.
You feel it, because it’s what you want.
You have it, because it’s an image of beauty.
People tell you that ‘Pain is Beauty’, and you believe it.
Because, you believe you have to,
But you don’t.
You can see it through a strawberry.
You can simply watch it drip rubies of pain.
But you don’t have to feel it.
You can taste the blood,
Of a strawberry.
Because.
Beauty is not pain.
Pain is not beauty.
It is a strawberry.
Nothing’s Changed
I wish the world could fade as I shut my eyes.
But it only gets more vivid.
The rain that falls from the cold black clouds,
Turns to blood falling as a tear.
The tear is on my face and dripping towards my shirt.
It leaves a bloody trail and falls to my shoes.
My shoes are now all bloody from my tear of despair that has fallen from the cold dark sky.
Another tear is falling; they’re coming down like rain,
A puddle of blood appears at my feet growing bigger every second.
The puddle expands and gets bigger and bigger filling up the room,
And before I can think I must swim through this blood,
This blood of tears.
This image disappears and I am able to walk,
My footsteps get louder as I trample thorny roses.
A thorn stabs my foot,
I keep on walking.
I appear at an icy river,
I keep on walking.
I wade in the water, ignoring the freezing.
As leaves swirl around me, they grasp me in there beauty.
I am caught in there icy spirals, and whirled away.
Far away
A land where you can be, who you choose to be.
This is where I want to be.
But I’m not.
So I open my eyes,
Nothings changed,
Not a single thing has changed.
Thank you sooooo much for reading these!!!
I still need to plot everything and actually start the writing process because i havent even planned what to do with a book yet. i just started putting words onto the page and they came to fit. below is something i had just randomly written. im sorry if it is badly written for i have never written anything before. please let me know your opinions. thanks.
_________________________________________________________
The sky draped over a blanket of clouds as the day began to turn into night. The moon was still uncovered from the nightmarish clouds that were soon spreading over the sky. The moon shined down on the town’s people, looking almost doleful. The light coming off of the brilliant moon was faded and washed out, as if the clouds were making it feverish and frail. As soon as the clouds overcame the moon, the only thing there was in the sky was darkness. The stars had been hidden from the town along with the moon and the many brilliant planets that shown in the night sky. Thunder rumbled in the far east.
I glanced up at the darkened sky and a small smile played at the corners of my lips. I pulled up the hood to my parka, my long strands of dirty blonde hair hanging outside the hood. I grabbed the loose hairs and stuffed them back into my hood. I bent down to grab my camera bag. I was glad that I had remembered to get a waterproof case for the camera. Otherwise, I would have had to put off my work until the next storm came, which wouldn’t have been long since it rained in this small town almost everyday of the year. Here in Mobile, Alabama, it rained or was overcast almost every single day of the year, except for a few days where the sun actually believed we were worth being seen.
Today was considered one of those lucky sunny days. Earlier, the sun had shown on the inconsequential town. During the school day, gossip of the sun was at a high. People here rarely wore anything besides pants and heavy duty jackets. Today though, some of the teenagers thought that they should take advantage of the sun, so they wore shorts and short sleeve shirts. I couldn’t believe they actually did that, considering it had only been fifty two degrees today. I had just worn pants, a t-shirt, and a light jacket. I had still been freezing cold all morning.
I pulled out my camera and putting it on the ground next to my bag. I slowly sat down on the soft green grass. As soon as I was in a comfortable sitting position, I grabbed my camera and positioned it so that I could get the pictures I had wanted for my project. My parents had thought that I had to take pictures for a class project. Really though, it was just for my own enjoyment. I heard a rumbling sound coming from behind me. Immediately, I turned my body around, ready for the shooting to begin. Another rumble came from behind me so I turned, just in time to see a brilliant light touch down somewhere in the east. I pulled out my camera, and snapped a shot of the lightening. I was surprised that I actually got a photograph of the lightening. Usually when the light flashed and then I took the picture, it would miss it completely. But not today. I guess luck did not want to evade me today. I smiled at the thought and prepared myself for another shot. I was holding the camera almost as if it was a gun. I was prepared to take a shot as soon as I heard thunder. I wanted to get the pictures too because one, it was a passion of mine, to take pictures of lightening. And two, I wanted to impress my ascetic parents. They were never really what someone would say as good parents.
My mother, a petite woman with long, curly ruby hair, worked for an advertising business. She was actually an intern and had been one for a year now, following around a woman like a silent shadow. She did not get paid well, even though she bought expensive handbags costing from two hundred to a thousand dollars, every month. My father called her on it no and then but lately it is almost as if he does not care. Besides, if she kept this up, we would all have to live on the street, which I preferably did not want to.
My father on the other hand was better to me than my mother. He made sure that my older brother and I followed his “rules”. Even though we had to follow every one of his rules so that we wouldn’t get into a serious amount of misfortune, he still somewhat treated us as if we were people. He did not treat us like pieces of expendable furniture as my ravenous and greedy mother had. My father was a not so successful doctor. He was not one of the many popular doctors, as was Mr. Crinkle and Mrs. Webster. And every night, when he got home from the hospital, his other home, he would grumble and complain about the competition.
I examined the small meadow that I was in as there was a break in the thunder storm that had not yet hit Mobile. The smooth grass was surrounded by trees as tall as three story buildings. The trees were filled with everything you could imagine: animals of all kinds, berrie
This is from the middle of the beggining, so it may be a little confusing. Its a fantsy love story with action  I am only thirteen, but i thought i would try to write. i can take harsh criticism so bring it on.
“Can you hear that?” Logan’s voice was booming, but I had no clue as to what he was talking about.
“Hear what?” Parker and I said in perfect harmony.
“That!” Logan pointed and I turned my face, as did many other kids, to the left towards the main road that past through town. A shining red sports car, windows rolled down, came zooming past us, although it slowed a bit when it passed by me. I turned my head to look and I saw a boy, about my age, looking straight into my eyes. He had a blank stare coming through his green eyes. I was about to open my mouth but the car sped up and continued to zoom down the road turning right into our school’s student parking lot. The car squeezed casually into a space that was much too small for the car. A few boys ran up to the car to admire it.
“Cars to boys are like a shiny object to a four year old.” Parker said, giggling while she spoke. I smiled slightly, but I was somewhat interested in who, or what, was driving that car, and why they had an interest in me.
“What? Oh yeah, I know.” I smiled convincingly and Parker shook off my sudden weirdness.
Camden High was now coming into view. I could see the main office, and the frost covered roofs. The grass was a dull green, and in a way, looked cold. Parker and I walked along the cement walkway into the main quad while we waited for the bell to ring for first period. A few people we lingering near the main office, waiting for something or someone to come out. I engaged in conversation with parker and a few others that had made their way over to us, but I continually glanced back to see what was going on. After about the fourth time I glanced back, it must have been obvious I was waiting for something because my friend’s face had changed to a questioning look.
“What?” I knew the answer, but I tried to sound casual by asking.
“Are you taking a sudden interest in the new kids?” Logan’s voice boomed from behind me. He walked up beside Parker and put his arm around her shoulders while waiting for his answer.
“Well, isn’t everybody? They made one heck of an entrance, and I wanted to know why they-“ I paused to contemplate if they had noticed the look that the boy in the car and I exchanged. “Never mind.” Logan, along with everyone else blew off the comment.
I heard the long ring of the school bell and everyone hurried out of the snow into the large brick building. My friends and I parted ways and Parker and I headed down the west hallway towards our math class.
Mr. Marin was already inside the cozy classroom, passing out worksheets and humming along to some show tunes that were playing from a dingy looking boom box in the corner. The classroom smelled very clean, and the carpets looked like they had recently gotten cleaned. Seven brown tables, with four blue chairs seated around them, replaced our original desks. Nick, Emery, and about five other kids were walking around two tables, trying to coordinate who sat where so that they could be by their friends. I ventured over to a table in the left corner that was right by the big window that faced the ocean. Parker followed close behind and we sat down across from each other without a word. It was dead quiet for a few seconds, but then two of the kids that were with Nick and Emery were bickering about sitting next to a red haired boy named Thomas.
More kids began to trickle into class, and soon almost all of the chairs were filled up. My table was one of the only tables with extra seats. The final bell rang and class begun with Mr. Marin’s daily lecture. Just as he began to welcome us back, two more kids arrived, a small tan girl with short brown hair, and a tall, blonde haired boy, the same one who was in the red sports car. He was not as tan as the girl that he entered with, and his dark blonde hair was longer in the back and came a little under his eyebrows in the front. They could have been models for all I knew. His face was perfectly smooth and he had a few freckles that dotted his nose ad cheeks.
The girl was wearing a short sleeve, button up blouse that shimmered where the light hit it and some tight jeans with some black flats. She looked like she stepped right out of Hollywood. He was wearing some dark blue jeans and a dark green button up shirt with a black leather jacket. His style was a bit more casual, but still more dressed up them most of us. The girl held a large black purse, and had a red corduroy jacket hanging lightly over her arm.
They walked to the front of the class briskly. His green eyes were warm and welcoming, and he had a hint of a smile on his face. The corners of his mouth were curled up. The girl, on the other hand, had a large smile smeared across her face. Her shinning fac
Her shinning face wasn’t as welcoming as his, but she seemed much happier then he did.
“Oh yes, I almost forget. Class, we have two new students joining us today. Funny you both ended up in my class. Anyway, this is Hazel and Tanner.” Hazel waved slightly when Mr. Marin said her name. She looked around cautiously, examining each and every students face. Tanner just stood up by Mr. Marin and continued looking blankly at the class. He moved his head slightly, turning to face me. He overlooked me at first but as soon as I moved my hand to itch my shoulder his gaze was fixed upon me. “Um, lets see. Hazel, you can sit by Julia, and Tanner, you can sit by…” Mr. Marin scanned the room, overlooking the first two empty seats he saw. I wanted nothing to do with the new boy, and I was somewhat annoyed he had taken a sudden interest in me. “Tanner, how about you take the seat next to Rylie.” I wanted to jump up and protest, but I figured that would just get me sent to the principal’s office.
Alfe Aslin was a tall man with light, blonde hair. He was a very poor man and was married. Her was named Jasmine, she was short and warm hearted, and she had long dark hair, which she often pulled back into a loose bun. She was a tailor but earned no more than a sweeper did. They lived on Kolbie Street which was known as the less fortunate side, the people that lived here had no money and went to the donation house every week to get food, and new clothes.
It was a cold crisp night on a Saturday of November. Jasmine heard the door creak open as she was finished boiling the leftover cabbage soup. “Alfe, is that you?” she asked worried. There had been a lot of break-ins lately around the small neighbourhood they lived in. “Yes dear don’t worry its only me”, he told her reassuringly as he hung up his coat that was torn with holes.
“Sit down why don’t you, Suppers almost ready,” she shouted through the small crack between the door and the wall. Their house was very small and dark. It only had one window that was tall and narrow above their small crooked bed.
He sat down on one of the uneven chairs that sat at a small square table. The table had a small cup in the middle with a dead flower in it, beside the cup was a small radio. “Turn on the radio,” Jasmine asked as she opened the door dividing the living room from the kitchen with her foot, holding two small bowels and laid them on the table in front of him. “Remember folks today is the last day to enter the lottery, and win some money, a car, and a house, if you wish to enter come down to the Fresh Plaza and take your chances, the winner will be announced tomorrow morning,” the radio said to the couple as they sat there staring at the radio.
“Did you hear that? A lottery with the prize of everything we need,” Alfe said to his wife.
“Too late now, you heard him, the last day to enter was today, its already 7:00pm, I’m sure they’re closed by now,” she said doubtfully.
“Its still Saturday isn’t it?” he asked.
“Yes it is but don’t bother rushing out, it’s cold and windy and your jacket is much too worn out and thin, and besides what are the odds that we actually do win this lottery? Think about it, there are probably more than a thousand people who signed up for this and you think we are going to win it?” she asked.
“I think I’ll take the chance,” he muttered as he rose and reached for his jacket. “I’ll be back.”
The next day was just as cold as the former, with an icy layer of frost covering the ground. It was early when Jasmine and Alfe woke up. They did their everyday routines, Jasmine making breakfast for them both, Alfe leaving to work and she would just sit there knitting, and waiting for a customer, when suddenly a letter flew across the dusty floor towards her from under the door. She bent over to pick it up. She read it carefully, then once again, not believing what lay before her very own eyes. “I don’t believe it, we’ve won,” she mumbled under her breath. “WE’VE WON!” she then shouted.
“Yes we have! I told you it would be worth taking our chances!” Alfe shouted while rushing in through the door, “Hurry up there is nothing to pack, and our car is waiting outside,” he explained to her, grabbing a few things.
It had only been a few weeks since they had moved in to their beautiful three storied house and they had already bought everything you could imagine. “I’m just going to pick up some fabric, I’ve had so many customers lately that they’ve used all my best fabric”, Jasmine explained to Alfe.
“Ok, let me grab my coat I have a place in mind we can get some for cheap, very cheap”, he whispered.
They drove down to Kolbie Street.
“What are we doing here?” wondered Jasmine.
“I’ll be right back”, Alfe told her as he stepped out of the door and into a small house that was filled with fabric. In a few minutes he opened the door and hopped in.
“So how much was it all together?” she asked him.
“Free”, he exclaimed.
“What do you mean?”
“Jasmine, we are rich now, these people are poor, we can do what we want around here, we are better than them,” he said to her.
“I guess your right, lets go before we can get caught.”
“We have nothing to worry about.”
Over the next few months they took things from the poor and treated them like slaves. But then in the midst of their perfect days, a letter arrived. Jasmine was at the store; so Alfe bent down to pick it up.
It read, “Dear Mr. & Mrs. Biggles, I am sorry to inform you that the winner of the lottery was all a mix-up.” This cannot be happening, he thought, but he continued to read, “The real winner of this lottery is Ms. Steffiona Emme. Please return all the money within a month, for further information please call, 18503894545”
He paused, his jaw dropped, and he just stood there in shock. He knew what was going to happen to himself, because of all his cruelty to the poor people, stealing fabric, and treating them badly. He knew he was going to be thrown into ja
(it was too long to put the whole thing in so im hoping the rest will go on this)
jail, and he had no money to bail him out this time. He immediately called Jasmine and explained everything.
They had been in jail for almost 3 weeks now. They had been sentenced for 2 years. The police officer walked into their cell, with a tall lady with dark hair, with pale skin, and a deep French accent.
“Hello, I am Steffiona Emme, I am here to accept your apology for all those nasty things you did, so I am getting you out of here, of course that means you will have to go back living like you were before, but we have given you some money. Thank me later I have to go, Ciao.” She said to them. They stood frozen. Steffiona was gone before they could thank her,
They went back to their normal lives and regained their friendships they had lost while being away from this small town, and they lived a happy life together.
okay lots of people are saying it ended quickly, but just to clear that up, there was a word limit on it and i was already almost over the word limit so thats i had to end it suddenly. also i rushed this quite a bit because it was due the next day after i wrote it im not saying all this to like make you rate it higher or anything im just letting you know
and someone said they didnt know how old i was when i wrote this, i was i think 11 or 12 thnx
This is what I have written so far:
Warm blood trickled down from Kyle’s fingers and hit the pavement. He unbuttoned the jacket, and held his breath as he clicked the flashlight on to get a better look at the wound on the stranger’s chest. He shuddered. Blood was still oozing out of the deep cut on the right side of the man’s chest. He buttoned back up the jacket, and shone the light on its face. He froze. The dead body lying on the sidewalk in the middle of the night belonged to someone far from a stranger. It was Jacob. Hatred filled up his heart, overpowering the sadness feeling of losing someone he dearly loved. “Who could have done this to you?” he asked his dead best friend through clenched teeth. He searched Jacob’s pockets, hoping to find any clues that would answer his own question.
Does it make sense so far? I'm kinda stuck at what to write next lol. My theme is going to be revenge..the main character Kyle is going to want to kill his best friend's killer and I'm not really sure if he actually kills him or not but at the end I want Kyle to be killed but you find out that he is actually a bad guy and the one or ones that killed him and his best friend were actually doing good..get what I mean? Any help would be much appreciated!
True the pocket thing doesn't make a whole lotta sense. I'm gonna have to think of something else but I want him to find something that leads him up to the killer..just not sure how he can do that.
So I tried writing this scene, but I just don't think it sounds right. Can you please help?
“What’s that?” she said looking at the jar.
“Oh, I found it in my dad’s kitchen. It’s a jar of marshmallow fluff. Do you remember how we would religiously eat this stuff?” I said handing her a spoon and opening the jar.
“Oh my God, I remember that. I haven’t had that stuff since like ninth or tenth grade!” she said digging into the fluff.
“Same here, it tastes so good!” I exclaimed stuffing a spoonful in my mouth.
We talked with filled mouths and laughed because we couldn’t understand anything the other one was saying.
“You have some fluff on your cheek,” I told Michelle, still laughing.
“Where?”
“Left cheek, a little close to your mouth,”
She tried wiping it away, “Did I get it?”
“No,” I said as I wiped it away with my thumb, “There,”
“Thanks,” she said as we looked at each other in silence.
We stayed still for a few seconds looking into each others eyes. Her brown eyes looked amazing, more amazing than they looked at the gas station. Then, I went for it. I leaned in and kissed her lips softly. She didn’t object, and she kissed me back. We kissed for ten or fifteen seconds and our lips parted.
She responded to the kiss with, “Um”
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that.”
“I should go,” she said as she stood up and started to walk inside.
“Michelle,” I said following her through the living room passed Cooper, Dad, and Randy, “Michelle wait.”
I followed her through the front door, “Noah, I need to go. You said you’d be around for awhile, so I’ll talk to you later.”
Michelle got into her blue Honda civic and backed out of the driveway. I watched as her car traveled down the road and got smaller and smaller. She took my jacket.
P.S Marshmellow fluff is actually called that. I've called it that my whole life and so has everyone else I know. I'm not a girl by the way
How do you make a scen slower? I'm having that problem thorugh out my whole story.
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