The Dairy of a Crazy Lady

Waste my life why don’t you. Not worth nothing to you, or anybody, and I don’t got no body to see me. Wait for no one. Just get on out of here and take me with you so you might drop me at the first chance. Then I will be alone, wandering the black woods with a lost mind and no intent to look for it. Why would I? So I could regain reasoning and search for reality to banish my world I made in my minds absence? But I like my solitude… I like it! Don’t take me from it! It needs me. I have cared for it since I found it when it hobbled upon me like a wounded animal. I have nursed it back to health with all my being, so now it is mine. It owes its life to me and vowed never to leave. It cares for me now. I need it, and it needs me more. Without me it cannot exist. Leave me! You scare him away… If you go now he may still come back. Leave me be before he goes from me forever! Ah, see it has come back at your leave. There now sweet, don’t be scared. Company will not bother us again.

Angry Words

Oh! Pity the day a writer has no story! There is no worse feeling in the world than to be so close to joy, only to be restricted by the apprehension to make it perfect and the lack of perfect ideas!

Curse the cursor, blinking in rapt impatience for words that will not come! Heaven afflict the blank page that will not fill! Even these words are nothing but torment, for they only give me a glimpse of what I could have! These shall not stay with me, but perish by my own hand for they fail to construct the story I bid them to. They laugh at their disobedience and spurn that who is their creator and will-be destroyer. Ignorant fools! Why must you be shadows to that of your counterparts, those words who have created magic, populations, and even entire worlds? Why must you take delight in my suffering?

But of course… It is my suffering that springs you to life. This is why you continue to ail me. You must, or you will face a quicker demise. The more I work, the less chance you have of dying. Selfish creatures! Yet I admire your ruse. It is working. You make me wish to strike you out like the omnipotent God sending his flood! But I have not the strength, at least not so without cause. I cannot kill you, because although I wrote you in anger I love you… And I hate you for it.

Clean

Ever since 2892, not many people remained clean. By 2993, being clean was almost unheard of. It was impossible. The entire world had become run down. The elite were those on top of the drug chain and nobody else. Even the President had become nothing more than a puppet pulled by too many strings.
The rest of the world population was left in ruins. Life expectancy had long ago dipped below forty. Drugs became the only thing worth living for, so as you might imagine, life was very dismal indeed.
I broke away from my drug gang when I was fifteen. It was awful in those days as I attempted to get the drugs out of my system. Looking back, I'm not too sure how I resisted. The process of becoming clean were the worst days of my life. At every street corner every dealer reminded me I could make all the suffering go away. I came close to believing them.
It was a book that saved my life. Books were rare, and hadn't been printed in over seventy years. Most of those that remained were beyond any state of legibility. I was lucky to find the one I did. Written in the early 2000's by E.M.C., it was about a "perfect" human being exposed to the real world. Imagining what the main character would have thought of our world today turned me around. I decided I wasn't going to be a slave anymore, and I ran as far and as fast as I could. But the farther I ran the more the world caught up with me. There was no safe place. No job that would harbor me. Try as I might to escape it, the drugs only became more and more prominent around me.

Despite the difficulties, I prevailed. For the past three years I have remained clean. The longer I stay clear of drugs, the less compelled I feel to use them. It's too easy to see how they have ruined lives, and how much better I am off without them. It is not the drugs I fear now, but the gangs that distribute them. They can be just as deadly as the drugs themselves. I made a point to never go near highly claimed areas, hideouts, or any sort of disputed territory. However, doing so is not as easy as it seems. There is almost nowhere that does not meet at least one of those descriptions. Often I have no other choice than to pass by as quickly as possible. I was on one such a trip when a group of Addictors surrounded me. I had no home- as usual- and was carrying everything on my back to the abandoned doorway that I had been sleeping in the past few nights. The quickest way to get there was through very active druggie territory. Unwilling to be in the dark for a minute more than necessary, I took the risk. I was halfway to my destination when I saw the silhouettes of the group. They saw me as well.

"Get him," One ordered. The silence of the night magnified his words so that I could hear him, and I bolted. I didn't get very far. They were strong, beefed up by steroids and decent food, while I was malnourished, and carrying everything that I owned. They swarmed me. One tore by bag from my back while others grabbed my arms and held me fast. I tried to twist away, and they laughed.
"There's nothing in his bag, Ex!" cried the one that had grabbed it. I assumed by that he meant that there were no drugs, or anything else of real value.

"What are you on, boy?" the one called Ex asked.

"Nothing," I said.

"Hear that?" Ex laughed, "He ain't on nothin'!" The rest of the men laughed along with him. "Hold out his arm" Ex ordered. I struggled against them to no avail. They stretched out my arm, and rolled up my sleeve. Ex pulled out an already loaded needle.

"Please don't," I begged. More laughter was my only response. This was why these groups were called Addictors. It was their job to get as many people hooked on a certain drug as possible, and only the first dose was free. Ex was just about to jab the needle into my vein when a slurred voice broke out, and stopped him.

"You guys got somethin' good?" asked a pretty, young girl as she stumbled toward us. Every head turned her way. It was clear that she was drunk.

"Yeah," smiled one of the guys, "Yeah, come here, and we'll give you some."

She staggered closer until she was practically in the middle of us all. She was either really drunk, really stupid, or past caring. It came as a surprise to all of us when she knocked the needle out of Ex's hand with reflexes no drunk person could ever have.

"Run!" She yelled. I didn't need to be told. I had already taken advantage of the moment, prying myself from their grasp and dashing down the road. She paused long enough to knee Ex in the groin before following after me. The gang ran after us. Our head start gave us the upper hand and we were able to get to a main road.

"In here!" the girl cried, rushing through the door of a club. We melted into the crowd three seconds before our pursuers came in after us. She turned her back to me, and began dancing, almost to the point where she was on top of me.

"Don't bolt," she warned, "It'll give us away. Just dance." I did as she said. True to her word, the gang looked right past us, and began immediately searching for the back exits. We stayed inside the throng of dancers. Invisible in plain sight. I don't know how long we stayed there. Maybe an hour or so before my rescuer deemed it safe to go out again. Once we were out of the noise, I finally got a chance to speak.

"Thank you," I said, "For helping me back there."

"Not a problem," She said, "Look, I don't mean to be rude, but this little escapade has made me late, and I must be going."

"Can I at least know your name?"

"It's Lily. And you are?"

"Zack."

"Right. Well Zack, I really do have to go. Perhaps you should go back to your own posse, before you run into any more Addictors."

"I don't have a posse. Or a gang," I said stuffing my hands into my leather jacket. I realized that it was now the only thing I owned. "I'm clean."

She stopped in mid-stride and looked me over.

"Nobody is clean."

"I am. For the past three years."

She looked dubious for a second more.
"Come with me," She ordered. Lily spun on her heel, and she walked deeper into the night. I struggled to follow. After about fifteen minutes we came to what I assumed was our destination. She knocked on the door. A shadow passed by the peephole and a second later the door opened. An old man looked back at us. 

"Lily! You're late! You had Abigail and I worried sick!"

"Sorry Finn. I got held up." 

Finn's eyes fell on me. 

"Who's this?" He grunted. 

"This is Zack. He needs a place to stay." 

Finn looked me over. He didn't seem to be to impressed. Seeing this, Lily quickly said,

"Don't worry. He's clean." 

Finn didn't look in any way convinced, but he stood aside. Lily  walked in and hung up her jacket. 

"Well, come in," She said, looking at me hovering in the doorway. Hesitantly, I did as she said. 

"Abigail! We have a guest!" Lily called. 

I took a look around. The room had a high ceiling, and told me it had originally been made for some sort of storage. Since, it had been outfitted with a makeshift kitchen and sitting room. There was loft along the far wall that was adorned with beds and similar room decor. Three doors lined the wall under it. A woman, who must have been Finn's wife, stood at the table over four children.

"This is Abigail. And these are Tom, Kristen, Sam, and baby Elisa," Lily introduced, "Everybody, this is Zack." 

"Pleasure," I nodded.  

"The pleasure is ours," Abigail said, returning the nod. 

"We're all clean here," Lily explained, "Completely drug free. As long as you are too, you can stay as long as you'd like."

The words came as a shock. I should have realized that somewhere, there must be someone else who was clean too. But it never crossed my mind there would be someone else like me, let alone a whole family of them. I would have loved nothing more than to become apart of it.

"I would be honored."    

Matchmaker

"You're not Brittney," I said, surprised.
"Obviously," smiled the incredibly hot guy in front of me. What should I say back? What would be the appropriate response? Wait, what did he say again? Breathe! Calm down! Say something! Anything!
"Not that you remind me of Brittney, or anything. She's a girl, and you're not. It was just that I was expecting her, not you. Of course, I'm glad that you're here, whoever you are..."
That's the best you can come up with? My conscience sneered. Shut up, I told it. "Um, who are you?" I asked.
''Adam," he said helping himself to a slice of pizza. Normally I would find this rude, but he was welcome to it. "I'm a friend of Brittney's."
"Rachel," I returned.
"Nice to meet you. Anyway, Brittney told me to tell you she can't come."
Couldn't come? That was awful! We had been planning for this all week! Now what was I supposed to do?
"But..." I stuttered, "But..." Wait a minute. Why hadn't she just called me? Unless (for some reason) she had wanted Adam to meet me personally...
"Well, in that case, I have an extra ticket to tonights show. Care to join me?" I asked.
Adam smiled. It was a very nice smile.
"I'd like that."

Chaos

The chaos began in a small place inside. Wars raged inside me as I attempted to refrain from speaking. I was being torn apart by pain, truth, and love. The spell I was under was one of the most cruel ever devised. It sent warped pain throughout the victim's body while forcing the truth up your throat. It could not make you speak, but most did. Those who kept their tongues died a very slow death. It could go on for months under the right conditions. If you were lucky, you would starve. 

"Where is the child?" The voice asked again.

I bit my lip to keep from screaming. Or to keep from telling. I did not know which. 

"Well?" He asked. He could not wait for months while I suffered. He would have to leave sometime, wouldn't he? He began to be impatient. He pulled back his fist and hit me hard in the stomach. I doubled over, the external pain adding to the internal. 

"I won't ask again. Tell me. Now." 

"East," I whispered softly to the ground, "He went east." The pain vanished immediately.

"TELL ME!" He roared, kicking my fallen form. He hadn't heard me! I looked up, fake tears and pain in my eyes.

"West," I said loudly, "He went west." 

Out of this World

I always knew my best friends and I were completely out of this world. I just didn't know it was so literal. It started with Trayton. We were at Michelle G.'s house for a sleep over one night, whispering (kind of) to keep from waking up her parents. Trayton threw her pillow at us to get our attention.

"Hey guys!" She whispered, "I want to tell you a secret! Well, you have probably all have noticed I'm not exactly normal..."

"That's an understatement," Emma laughed. Trayton gave her a playful punch, (which if you have ever been given one by her you know that they hurt) and continued.

"Anyway, it's for a reason. I'm not from this planet. My real name is Tri-47 and I come from Planet X."

There were a few, awkward, laughs from each of us.

"No, I'm serious," Trayton frowned, "Watch, I can prove it..." After a moment of concentration on her behalf, two bug like feelers began to grow out of her hair. All of us watched in awe.

"You guys are my best friends, I wanted you to know," she said looking down, "I can understand if you no longer want to be around me..."

"No way!" Emma cried. "Seriously? I'm from Mercury! Look!" She held her hand over one of the candles we had out until it caught fire. "It's a hotter temperature there, so heat doesn't bother me. My real name is Emagé."

"Not so loud," I cautioned, "Someone is going to hear you."

"Don't worry about my family," Michelle said, "They won't tell anybody. We're from Venus, the sister planet."

"No way!" was the collective reply.

"Way. My real name is Gilliana."

One by one, everybody began to reveal who they were and what planet they were really from. Jessi was actually Jezzy, from Mars. Michelle E. was Mihir and hailed from Saturn. Eliza was a proud Jupierite named Elix. Diondra's real name was Deedee and she was from Neptune. Only Rachel was from Earth. It should have come as no surprise that we were all aliens. As they say, "aliens bizarre collect from wide and far."

"This is weird," said Eliza, I mean, Elix, "We have someone from almost every planet in the solar system."

About that time, I burst into tears.

"Savannah, what's wrong?" asked Gilliana, "Do you feel left out? Are you not from another planet?"

"My name is not Savannah, it's Salyisa and I AM from another planet!" I sobbed, "Pluto's a planet too!"

Sweet Awakening

The door opened ve-e-ry slowly. I knew what was coming; my wake up call. I had been slowly regaining consciousness for the past five minutes, but still could not bring myself to get up. It was Saturday, and I had been up late the night before. Only my guilt kept me from being annoyed at the fact that it was time to get up. Everyone else had gotten up hours before. I opened my eyes just a slit so it appeared that I was still sleeping. My nearsightedness gave the room a hazed, underwater look. Two, small, brown haired blurs tiptoed across the room.

"Nina?" the smallest blur asked, "Nina sweep?"

I opened one eye wider and peered at her. It was Emma, my one year old sister.

"It's time for breakfast Nina," the second blur, my five year old brother, Seth, said. "Daddy made pancakes."

I sat up and stretched.

"Good morning guys," I said, taking them up in a hug. "I missed you."

Because they lived in South Carolina, I only got to see them about once or twice a month.

"I missed you too," said Seth. "I love you."

"H-io-ow," said Emma, which was her way of saying I love you. She could probably pronounce it correctly now, but it was so cute none of us had bothered to correct her.

"Come on," I told them. "Lets go get breakfast."

5-13

I did believe that I was in love. I wasn't supposed to be, nor had I ever had much expertise in feelings, so I could not be sure. But what else could describe the elation I felt whenever I saw her? What else could explain my desire to be near and please her? Her name was Persephone and she lived on the third floor of my building. She was kind and polite, even to me and others of my kind when she had no need to be. We didn't have any feelings, so she didn't need to spare them, but she always acted as if we were her equal.

It felt nice when she talked to me. I did not feel as if I was composed of spinning cogs and twisting wire, nor of flesh and bone as she was. I simply felt like me. As if I had a soul. Could that be possible? Could under all of this synthetic skin and interchangeable parts be something that could love and be worth loving?

After a time I could bare it no longer. I had to know her. 

She entered the elevator that afternoon while digging around for something in her purse. 

"Floor three?" I asked pressing the appropriate button. She looked up surprised. 

"How did you know?" she asked. "You are not my normal operator..."

"It is my job to know," I replied. "I am 5-13 and I normally work in customer services."  

"You're a cyborg? I never would have guessed. Are you a newer model?"

"No ma'am. I'm a 230-Starfast. Many models have since surpassed me. Why do you ask?"

"I'm not sure... You seem more intelligent than the others. No, that's not right either. You're don't seem more intelligent... you seem more... alive."

"That is high praise. I like to think of myself as alive."

"But how do you know? How can you tell?" She inquired as she stepped closer. She did not mean to be rude, she was merely curious. 

"Obviously my definition of life can never be the same as yours. But I am here, and I can feel myself. And if I can feel and want life, surely that is a sign that I am correct?"

The elevator dinged and the doors opened. Persephone looked regretfully at the door, and then back at me.

"I don't suppose you could take a break now? I would love to continue talking," She asked.

I should have said no.  I was not supposed to stop working.

"A small break wouldn't hurt."  I said getting out of the elevator with her. She smiled, and led me to, and then inside her apartment. It was very plain, and looked lived in. I absolutely loved it. It could not be more different from the small cubicle in which I shut down in for the night. 

"Would you like a drink?" She asked.

"No thank you. Unfortunately I cannot consume food."

She blushed.

"Forgive me, I forgot."

"There is nothing to forgive."

"Why do you think," she began slowly, "that you are so different form all the rest?"

"I do not know. Just as you do not know why you have grown into the woman you are. It simply is. The first time I ever knew I was different was when I realized I felt love."

"Love?" she asked.

Oops. 

"Um, yes. Is this your family?" I asked, referring to the pictures on the mantelpiece. She would not be daunted.

"Who did you love?" she pressed.

"A human." 

"Does she know?"

"No." 

"What's her name?"  

I looked away.

"Tell me," she pleaded. 

I sighed and contemplated my answer before replying. 

"You."

"Me?" she gasped. 

"Yes," I nodded.

She bit her lip and averted her gaze. I looked away too, embarrassed. It was a strange, new, and  regretful emotion. I wasn't sure I liked it. 

"Can I try something?" She asked. I looked back at her confused. 

"Anything."

She leaned in, and it was all I could do to keep from rearing back in surprise.

"Don't move," She whispered. Her mouth pressed against mine and a static charge ran down my back. Or was that... something else? Something human? Her tongue made its way into my mouth and there was no denying the shock now. This time it wasn't human. Persephone gasped and her body convulsed as the electricity shot its way through her. I drew back in horror and she fell to the ground. I couldn't move for a long time and she didn't either. Was she okay? I reached down and touched underneath her jaw. I didn't perceive her pulse. I jumped back and hit the wall. No! No, no, no! I began fighting for air I did not need and my eyes screwed up in nonexistent tears.I sank to the ground and held my face in my hands. For the first time I no longer wanted to feel. For the first time in my existence, I wanted to be the soulless machine I was... 

The Undecided Writer

It was dark and cold. I could not see past my nose as I reached out and grabbed the

No. That was not going to be my story. DELETE. Lets try again.

The smell of sweet roses wafted over me

Wafted? Sounds like waffles, which is what this is. A load of waffle. And roses were such a cliche.

The scent of lilac surrounded me the moment I stepped into the garden.

Much better. On to the second sentence.

The sun warmed up my cheeks, and I smiled as I

DELETE.

The moon lit up the garden as I searched for

The hidden key? No, to Nancy Drew. I needed something a little less goody- two shoes.

as I searched for Robert, the kitchen boy.

Scandalous! I loved it!

As I came around the corner I saw him. He took me up in his arms and said

No. Scratch that. DELETE.

As I came around the corner, I found to my dismay, Luther, my betrothed.

"Why Anna, what are you doing out here?" he asked with an evil grin.

"I-uh- thought I would take a moonlit stroll. It's such a nice night for it."

"Well, then," he said placing his arm around me and steering me down the path. "Let's walk."

Suddenly, Robert ran out of the shadows, kitchen knife in DELETE sword in hand.

DELETE.

"Where are we going?" I asked Luther.

"Right here." He said stopping. From an overhanging branch hung a corpse from its neck.

"Robert!" I screamed in agony. I collapsed on the ground in tears.

No, no, no, Anna was stringer than that. DELETE.

Tears sprung from my eyes as I pulled out my knife from my petticoat.

"Murderer!" I screamed at Luther. Fear crossed his face and he began to back away.

"I did it for us, Anna," he pleaded, "I loved you, and that wretch was going to ruin you, and he was stealing you away from me..."

"He didn't make me dislike you," I screeched, "You did that all on your own!"

The End.

I loved cliffhangers.

Suspense

My heart hammered in my chest as I attempted in vain to crawl away. The rain pounded me farther into the ground and the mud made it harder to get away. A boot came down hard on the back of my head sending me face first into the ground. Cold laughter followed.

Please don't, I thought, please.

"Had enough, Jack?" the man asked.

How does he know my name? I wondered as I nodded my head, and pain shot down my spine.

"All you needed to do was ask," the man shrugged, "Which way would you rather die; by the knife or the gun?"

He pressed the gun's nozzle to the base of my head and held his knife to my throat.

"Neither," I rasped.

"Both? Good choice..."

Murder

"Know what happened here?" The constable asked.

"No. What's wrong?"

"An author was murdered."

"Too bad. Hey, do you want to buy an unfinished manuscript?"

25 word story.

Max's Greatest Gift.

The greatest gift I have ever received was given to me for no reason at all by my son, Luke. We were in the mountains on vacation one weekend and the very first shop we entered he found what he wanted to buy. He was willing to pay for the prize himself. Worried that he would later regret the quick spending, I warned him that buying the toy he wanted would take up the majority of his spending money. Luke assured me that he knew what he was doing and I allowed him to take responsibility of his own money.

At a different store later on in the day, Luke became infatuated with a small geode that happened to be one dollar over his budget. He sent me a pitiful look but I stood my ground. Luke would have to learn to manage his money better. But of course, guilt began to eat its way at me. He only needed one more dollar. Not to long afterwards my strong reserve crumbled out from underneath me. I procured a dollar from my wallet and offered it to him. To my surprise, he refused it.

"No thanks Dad," He said, "It just wouldn't feel right."

I was a little confused by the statement. Luke certainly never had trouble taking money from me before. I took it that the lesson I had tried to teach him was well learned, and I congratulated myself for it.

Not long afterward, Luke found something more suited to his budget. It was a polished rock, but unlike any I had ever seen. It was an amber color and its hue was made consistently of sparkles. It was beautiful. Luke paid for it and we made our way outside.

When we reached the curb I felt Luke's little hand slip in and out of my pocket. Upon further investigation, I found he slipped the rock into my pocket.

"I'm not going to carry it for you," I told him, "It's yours. You have to keep up with it."

He looked hurt that I did not understand.

"No, Dad." he explained, "I bought it for you."

It would not be an exaggeration on my part to say that I was stunned. I did not expect to get anything on this trip, let alone a gift. I felt awful. I had made Luke buy his own souvenir and he bought me something too? This was not how it was supposed to work. I was the father. I was supposed to provide for him and I hadn't. I could not think of anything to express just how I felt. What he did had been incredibly sweet and I had been almost unforgivable in comparison. I was furious with myself, but did not let it show.

"For me?" I asked, "Thank you Buddy. But why?"

"Because I love you," He said with a shrug as if it was obvious. Perhaps it was.

This is a 500 word essay done from the point-of-view of my main character from my story, Steel Horizons. I enjoyed writing this because this scenario actually occurred between me and my father. It was fun adapting it to these two characters and puts an emphasis on their deep father-son bond. However it was not fun because it was 500 words minimum, and the words needed to be hand counted. Yuck.

Description- Office

The room looked like it might once have been an office. It had an office type feel to it somehow, buried beneath the terror it now brought. One chair and a desk outfitted with three computer monitors were the only things in sight and the darkness was only penetrated by by the light emitted from the computer screens. There was a dark stain on the floor that I believed to be blood. No! Let me out! I thought as the darkness smothered me and the room's chilly air bit me as it caressed my skin. There was something about the room that told me,
"You will not be coming out of here breathing."
I struggled slightly with those who led me inside. I would not go willingly into what I believed what was to become my crypt. My effort was wasted. I was brought inside and the door was locked behind me. The room smelled so foul I could taste it. It only took a moment to realize that the smell was that of a not-long-passed death. Every time I inhaled the essence of death clawed its way farther down my throat. Death was coursing through me before I was even dead yet.

Description of the room my character, Max, was forcefully held in my story, Steel Horizons.

Description- Luke

Luke stared at me with a pitiful mixture of fright and relief in his eyes. He made a noise through his gag that sounded like a wounded kitten. I wanted to embrace him, wipe the rough tear stains away from his cheeks, and tell him that it would all be okay. But how could I say that everything was going to be alright? Everything about him: his tall but defensive posture, his tragedy filled eyes, all screamed that he knew the situation was nothing close to alright. I could see his belief that the heroes always win deteriorate before my eyes. The harder he held onto his hopes the more they slipped away.
Jacob gave me a smile with a look in his eyes that told me he could smell my anticipation and Luke's fear. He produced a gun and cocked it before leveling it with Luke's head. Luke began to shake and several precious tears slipped down his face. I could taste the copper-flavored fear in my mouth as I thought, Not Luke. Not my son.

Description of the character Luke from my story Steel Horizons.

Children's Book

(Page 1) One day Ms. Beyer had a special announcement.

"Today we have a very special guest," said Ms. Beyer. "It is Savannah, Kristina's big sister. She is going to show us some interesting creatures today."

"Hello," Savannah smiled.

Picture: Ms. Beyer and Savannah.

(Page 2) "What is that on your shoulder?" Sean asked.

"Oh, this little guy?" Savannah asked, "His name is Fuz. He is a Wuzzle."

"I've never heard of a Wuzzle before," said Caroline, "Is he real?"

"Of course he's real," Savannah said, "But only if you believe in him. Do you want to hold him?" All of the children said yes and took turns holding Fuz.

Picture: Savannah and Fuz

(Page 3) "There is more where Fuz came from!" Savannah smiled, "Look at this."

She held in her hand a pretty little fairy.

"Oh! She's so beautiful!" cried Zasia.

"Can I hold her?" asked Aly.

"Me next!" said Kristina.

Picture: Fairy

(Page 4) After the classmates were able to see the fairy, Savannah brought in her friend, the troll. He, Sam, Delaney, and Kadilobari began laughing and telling riddles.
"Why is a Teddy Bear always hungry?" asked the troll.
"Why?" asked the children.
"Because he's stuffed!" the troll laughed.

Picture: Troll

(Page 5) Savannah then took the class outside to the fish pond out in the garden. To everyone's surprise it had grown into a small lake!

Picture: Lake

(Page 6) A mermaid was waiting on the rocks for them. Ryan A. got to look in the mermaid's mirror, and Robin brushed the mermaid's hair with her magic brush.

"You are so pretty," said Zoe.

"You are all beautiful too." the mermaid told them, "Just remember it is also important to be beautiful on the inside."

Picture: Mermaid

(Page 7) "What's that?" asked Ethan and pointed at the water.

"I think it is a sea serpent! Cool!" cried Rufus, as he and Ethan both crawled up on the sea serpent's back.

Picture: Sea Serpent

(Page 8) "What's next?" Sari asked Savannah.

"Here is something you might enjoy," said Savannah, leading the class to the field between the garden and the playground. It had two magical winged horses.

Sari was able to get a ride on one of them way up in the air.

Picture: Horses

(Page 9) "Oh cool! A fire bird" said Sean, running up to it. "This is the best creature yet!"

"Be careful not to burn yourself!" Ms. Beyer warned. The bird sang a happy tune and put on a flying show for them all.

Picture: Firebird

(Page 10) "Wow!" Miles gasped,

"A dragon!" Caroline smiled.

"Is he dangerous?" asked Will.

"Of course not," said Savannah. "Go right ahead."

"This is so awesome!" Kyler said as he petted the dragon's scales.

Picture: Dragon

(Page 11)

"Another dragon!" Devon pointed.

"So cool!" Christopher cried.

"Totally!" Ryan R. agreed.

Picture: Dragon

(Page 12) "Are there any more animals?" Sam asked.

"I'm afraid not," said Savannah, "but all of you have been so good. I will make sure to come again soon." After all of the children had said goodbye to Savannah and her magical creatures, everything disappeared with a snap of Savannah's fingers.

Picture: Snapping fingers

(Page 13) Then, to everyone's surprise they were back in their cottage and nothing had changed.
"I'm sorry class," said Ms. Beyer, "I have some bad news. Kristina's sister cannot visit us today. She will have to come some other time." The children were all confused. Savannah hadn't come? Had it all been their imaginations?

Picture: Unchanged classroom

(Page 14) What do you think?

Picture: Fuz half-way behind pencil cup.

Color Key:

Normal- dialogue and written story

Red- pictures or elements inside pictures I have not yet drawn

Blue- pictures I have drawn.

Dialogue

"Stop the car," Jacob ordered.

"Yes sir," the driver replied.

"Get him out of the back. I will be in the office."

"Yes sir," the driver said again as Jacob left. The car door opened. "We're here sweetheart," He smiled at me as he took off my gag. "Don't even think about screaming. This building has been abandoned for years by everyone except the hobos that call it home. And even they won't come down into the garage."

"Why is that?" I asked.

"They think it's haunted. But the screams they heard didn't come from people who were already dead; not yet dead anyway."

This is the dialogue version of a primarily narrated portion of my story Steel Horizons.

Monologue

Can you imagine? A high school with the sons and daughters of the most influential people in the world. Steel Horizons recently gave to them the newest and most proficient security cameras in the world to protect Mr. and Mrs. High-and-Mighty's little darlings. But do you want to know what is really on those tapes, my friend? Blackmail. This Congresswoman's son is a drug dealer; that Senator's daughter is sleeping with her teacher, and what blackmail cannot be obtained can be forged. It 's downright beautiful. Mommy and Daddy will do anything to keep that kind of information a secret to protect their babies future. Just think about it: hundreds of people all voting how I want them to vote, passing laws I want to be passed, and acting how I want them to act. Can you imagine it, Max, the sheer power of it all? I have to admit; I'm pretty excited.

Monologue from Jacob, a character from my story Steel Horizons.

Treason

Louis made certain his head was held high. It was going to be the last time he had a head, so he displayed it with pride. The crowd jeered at him and threw rotting fruit in his direction. They were trying to get a reaction out of him: a last outburst of anger so that they might have a reason for hating him when his time came. They would be disappointed. Louis would keep his dignity. The executioner and a little man carrying several scrolls came up onto the platform with him. The man juggled the scrolls around until he found the one he was searching for and began to read it .

"Louis Monegasque," he squeaked, "You have been charged of treason against his majesty and furthermore convicted of committing villainy, thievery, and murder. Due to these abominations before man and God-"

Louis stopped listening. He had indeed committed all that he was accused of but his treason, villainy, thievery, and murder had only applied to the tyrannous, villains, thieves, and murderers. His gallantry was the only thing that condemned him now. 

"... should you repent before God and divulge the names of your companions,  your life will be spared." 

Why not? Louis thought, All of my companions are dead, so it is of no consequence. Just one little lie and I will be allowed to live. 

"No." Louis finally said.

"Then I here-by sentence you to death."

Steel Horizons

"Jacob, I think someone is following me," I said in a hushed whisper as I looked over my shoulder.

"Hmm? Why is that?" Jacob asked as he kicked a rock along the sidewalk.

"Well I keep seeing these people dressed in suits everywhere, you know, the classic FBI getup. They were at work, in the subway, and now here too."

Jacob looked around at the sleepy suburban street.

"I don't see anything," He shrugged. "And as for your job, you work for Steel Horizons, one of the top security programmers in the world. It wouldn't surprise me one bit if some government officials were hanging around. You need to stop being so paranoid, it's a little narcissistic."

"I guess you're right. I am being a little silly," I said to my shoes, sorry I brought it up in the first place. Jacob and I weren't even really good friends anyway, just acquaintances from college. He had gotten into a bit of a rough spot, so I lent him the guest house and I was trying to help him find a job. Jacob continued to kick his little rock and I let him do so in silence. There was a screech behind me and I turned to see what it was.

"What in the world?" I asked as I saw the black van skid along the road. "Crazy drunk driv-" A splitting pain hit my head and caused black spots to cross my vision. The next thing I saw was the sidewalk five inches from my face. Rough hands pulled me up and shoved me into the van door.

"No..." I moaned as the door swung shut and the car sped away. Someone shoved me to the van floor and began binding my wrists together with a plastic zip-tie. Soon after that they gagged me with a rag that tasted like motor oil. What was going on? Who was doing this? I craned my head and found Jacob in the passengers seat turning around to smirk at me.

"Just because you are paranoid, Max, doesn't mean they aren't really after you," He told me before turning back around. Why? I wanted to ask. What do you have to gain from this? Then I realized that he had told me himself.

"You work for Steel Horizons," He had said, "one of the top security programmers in the world." I couldn't believe it. This was the man I had been trying to help when he said he needed me... Needed me. There was another key phrase. Jacob had been subtly hinting at what he was planning to do the entire time.

It was awhile before the car finally stopped and they pulled me out. I had no idea where I was except for the vague notion that I was in one of those large garages at the bottom of buildings. By the look of the place it had not been used in a long time. My hostile escorts dragged me to a dark room that might have once been some sort of office. I struggled, not allowing myself to go into what I believed would become my crypt, but to no avail. My captors dragged me inside despite my physical protests. The room contained a desk outfitted with three computer monitors that came with their own generator. Their screens offered the only light. Jacob nodded to one of the men, who then sat me down. One of the others locked the door behind us.

"Now Max. You are going to hack into Steel Horizons firewall and piggyback our monitoring device to the system. Got that?" Jacob asked cheerfully as he pulled the rag away from my mouth. I gagged as I attempted not to heave oil-flavored bile.

"Why?" I managed to ask.

"Why?" Jacob laughed, "I'll tell you why: Berkley High School in Washington, D.C. Can you imagine? A high school with the sons and daughters of the most influential people in the world. Steel Horizons recently gave to them the newest and most proficient security cameras in the world to protect Mr. and Mrs. High-and-Mighty's little darlings. But do you want to know what is really on those tapes, my friend? Blackmail. This Congresswoman's son is a drug dealer; that Senator's daughter is sleeping with her teacher, and what blackmail cannot be obtained can be forged. It 's downright beautiful. Mommy and Daddy will do anything to keep that kind of information a secret to protect their babies future. Just think about it: hundreds of people all voting how I want them to vote, passing laws I want to be passed, and acting how I want them to act. Can you imagine the sheer power of it all? I have to admit, Max; I'm pretty excited. "

"And if I refuse?" I asked with a false sense of bravado. I knew that I wasn't in the best position to refuse.

"Oh, don't you worry about that. I was prepared enough to bring along incentive." He walked over to the closet and opened the door. My ten-year-old son, Luke, was inside, just as bound and gagged as I had been. Of course, I was such an idiot! Jacob had offered to walk him to school today. Luke must have been here all day, alone and scared. He looked at me now with a pitiful mixture of relief and fright in his eyes. I wanted to take him up in my arms and tell him that it would all be okay. But how could I say that everything was going to be alright? Everything about him: his tall but defensive posture, his tragedy filled eyes, all screamed that he knew the situation was nothing close to alright.
Jacob gave me a smile with a look in his eyes that told me he could sense both my anticipation and Luke's fear. He produced a gun and cocked it before leveling it with Luke's head. Luke began to shake and several precious tears slipped down his face.
"Ready to work Max?" Jacob asked.

This is my story commitment I am working on in class. Tell me what you think...

The Hunt

Once upon a time there was a boy named James who supposed he was around the age of 18. In truth he did not know how old he was for his parents died in an accident when he was three. However, it was not so much of an accident as everyone believed even though he did not know that at the time. One morning James was walking to his high school when he happened upon a bum who would change his life forever.

James was passing one of the shifter ally ways in New York when a figure followed him out of the shadows.

"Hey," it whispered after him, "Jimmy! J-i-i-i-mmy-y-y! Jim! James!"

James turned around surprised but continued to back away.

"How do you know my name?" he asked.

"All of us know your name, Jimmy." The bum said smiling a stubby toothed smile.

"All of who?"

"All of US. You are a slow one, aren't ya, Jimmy? We all know about Jimmy-James. Yes-siree, I know more about you than you do my boy." The bum doubled over laughing. James was beginning to wonder if he was drunk.

"I like you, Jimmy." the bum continued, "You can call me Coot. Everybody does. Anyway, Coot here came to tell ya that they want to meet ya."

"Who wants to meet me?" James asked confused.

"THEY do. You tetched in the head boy? Not very bright. They sent Ol' Coot to say they will see you in the mornin'. Got the message? Good, 'cause Coot's got the willies, and you know what that means. A good old fashioned hunt is starting. A good old fashioned hunt." Coot laughed again and slumped into the shadows.

"What?" James called after him, "Wait come back! Who wants to meet me?"

"The Hunters." Coot replied from deep in the ally.

"Who? What could they possibly be hunting in New York?"

"What are they Hunting?" Coot laughed, "Why Jimmy-James, they're Hunting you."

Reflection: This was the story I wrote to Parker's "Bad Beginning." I ended up changing the beginning here though so it would sound better, but it still could use some work.

Shaggy Dog Story

Once upon a time a man named Steve decided on a whim to visit an antique shop that was having a sale. Most of the items were just junk, but Steve was captivated by an old oil lamp that looked straight out of Arabian Nights. He was so happy with his find that he bought it and took it home.

That night as he was cleaning it a genie popped out! At first Steve was ecstatic because he believed he would get to make three wishes. He soon was disappointed as he discovered the genie did not offer wishes, but instead, three choices.

"You may chose which of these you would rather be: blind, deaf, or dumb." said the genie. Steve was horrified. He didn't know which sense he wanted to give up. Steve was a member of a band and needed to be able to hear and speak. Steve was also smart enough to know that humans received 90% of their information from sight. As he contemplated his choice he whispered out loud,

"To see, or not to see, that is the question."

Reflection: Hardy har har... It is fun to write these stories but I just kind of feel that it is wasted. So much work and trouble goes into making them just so people can roll their eyes at them later.

Bad Beginnings

The sunlight sliced through the day like a double bladed sword in the hand of an enemy who wielded it in order to obtain two halves of your head bleeding at his feet, and was just as deadly as said enemy to the couple, the two travelers unlucky enough to get lost in the Sahara without the benefit of water.

Reflection: This sentence was written for a "bad beginnings" contest and I must say it has the bad part down pat. I hope never to write such an awful sentence again. If I ever should, someone please whack me over the head with a frying pan.

Blood Enemies

"What makes you so certain that you will succeed where so many others before you have failed?" The Queen inquired of me. She was as intimidating as she was beautiful: and so very out of my league, I reminded myself.

" I have my own reasons for wanting the Warlock dead, and both you and I have nothing to lose by sending me." I replied as to evade the question, "And should I prevail I ask for no reward save for the satisfaction I will receive."

In truth I would receive no satisfaction whatsoever, but I could not stand the idea of being paid to kill someone. The Queen thought about my appealing offer for a moment before nodding.

"Very well Lord Tristan. I grant you leave for your quest." She said.

I bowed in respect before turning and leaving the hall. Once outside of the Queen's palace my waiting pet crow, Corbie, flew to my shoulder.

"Craw!" she cried, flapping her wings with impatience to hear the news.

"We got him," I assured her. "We got him."

Corbie quieted and I was left to my thoughts. Did we want to get him? Could I slit his throat when the time came? I had no choice now. I would have to go through with it.

The journey to the Warlocks Manor took three days. With Corbie scouting the road ahead we avoided all physical danger but each step I took was harder to take than the last. Only Corbie gave me the strength to keep from running as fast and far away as I could. When we reached the Manor the door was unlocked and unguarded. We walked straight on through into the parlor. The Warlock stood beside the fireplace mantle looking out of the big bay window.

"Hello Tristan. I've been expecting you." He said without looking my way.

"You have gone way to far Jeremiah." I said placing my sword between him and myself.

"Come to kill me?" He laughed, "We both know you aren't strong enough."

"Why did you do it Jerry?" I asked dropping the swords tip to the ground, "Why did you do it?"

"Because I can. Wouldn't you do the same if you could? If you had the power?"

"No. I wouldn't."

"Poor Tristan. So weak. I will miss you when you are dead, I really will." He began to pull his wand from his sleeve.

"Craw!" Corbie cried out in warning. A surge of adrenaline coursed through me. I pulled up my sword, ran toward him, and raked my blade across his neck. Jeremiah gasped and collapsed against the wall.

"I guess... I was... mistaken." Jerry managed to pant. Then his eyes closed and he crumpled to the floor. I fell to my knees with him. I closed my eyes and gasped for air. A hand fluttered to my shoulder. It was Corbie. Jeremiah's spell had been lifted from her upon his death. She returned to being the black haired, dark eyed beauty she had been before.

"Why didn't you tell me?" She asked looking at Jeremiah's face. Even in death it was clear we had been identical. "Why didn't you tell me he was your brother?"

I closed my eyes again to keep the tears from escaping and hissed,

"That man is not my brother."

Reflection: I love, love, love writing about betrayals, especially between brothers. It is the ultimate evil to betray those who have given you nothing but love and loyalty. The best part that I like about Blood Enemies is Tristan's mindset; just who is betraying whom?

Help Wanted

"And she disappears!" the magician cried pulling away his cape. The crowd gasped and applauded. His assistant had vanished!

After the trick the audience departed murmuring about the shows highlights. Once they left the magicians stage smile fell with a sigh. He then put up a sign in the window that read: MAGICIANS ASSISTANT WANTED.

Reflection: This is my 55 word story. It was difficult to write, but easier as soon as you know just what your twist is going to be. This story is dedicated to my red-head friend in creative writing class, the REAL magicians assistant.

Ghost Ship

"There is a ship ahead of us Captain!" one of the navigators yelled.

"Radio them. I want to know who they are and what they are doing here." Captain Shar ordered. He didn't want one soul on this cruise to be hurt on account of a miscommunication error or sloppy navigation. There would be no mistakes.

"Sir, I don't believe that is possible."

"Well why not?" Captain Shar snapped. The navigator pointed out the window. They had now come close enough to see the craft. It was an old fashioned ship. Like a pirate ship.

"What is this?" the Captain mumbled aloud, "One of those party ships you can rent? Or maybe it's some sort of set for a movie?"

"Maybe sir."

"Keep trying to get a hold of someone." Captain Shar ordered as he walked out on deck.

"Yes sir."

Outside the passengers were all oohing and ahhing over the strange ship which was now far too close for comfort.

"Captain!" a breathless sailor gasped, "The ship!"

"I am aware of it. Please carry on with our business."

"No Captain! There is no one on it! Not one person!"

"What?" Captain Shar asked running to the starboard railing to see for himself. True to the sailor's word there wasn't a sign of life in sight. The steering wheel moved as if someone was controlling it but nobody stood at its helm. The rigging swung unused in the wind.

"Should we deploy a search party?" The sailor asked. Captain Shar thought about the suggestion, then shook his head. Like many Captains he was highly superstitious.

"Leave it alone. Let it have its solitude; it is all that it has left."

Reflection:

The only thing I do not like about my story Ghost Ship is that it doesn't really end where I want it to. It ends too quickly and without necessary conflict. If I had unlimited space I would have allowed Captain Shar to board the Ghost Ship and have him gain an audience with the ghosts themselves...

A Variation of Jabberwocky By SEA

‘Twas brillig in the lock days
For milsted filsome Jabberwock:
All mimsy borogroves in their stays
And habhan momes for the fock.

“Beware the Jabberwock!” cry they,
“It is vigiant, it is lye!
End must come to its goray,
The Jabberwock must die!”

He stood tall, held his sword
That with the nantran bite,
And with a york ran toward
The Jabberwock in the night.

The Jabberwock stood matran;
Hoared in his poy fear.
Bitten by the the sword nantran
Let lose one woy tear.

“Let me alone! The rest are tray,
of Jabberwocks I am the last!”
But his wos, lock cry fell vay
And his kie end came all too fast.

He returned to town with its head
And the people let out a bock!
While the ransent creatures dread
the kier end of the of the Jabberwock.

Jabberwocky by Lewis Carroll

`Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.

"Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!"
He took his vorpal sword in hand:
Long time the manxome foe he sought --
So rested he by the Tumtum tree,
And stood awhile in thought.
And, as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
And burbled as it came!
One, two! One, two! And through and through
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumphing back.
"And, has thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!'
He chortled in his joy.

`Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.

Changeling

Beware of the forest elves my dear young ones.

Do not follow their laughter.

Do not listen to whatever they should tell you; 

You won't live happily ever after.

Avoid the faeries at all costs my children.

Never step in their ring

or they will quickly steal you away

before you can do anything.

Fear all of the magical creatures

that might be raging wild

unless you wish to be replaced 

by a changeling child.

The Last Magic

Deep within the fortress walls of stone

lies the object, dormant and safe,

hidden from those who would use it for evil.

It bides its time

knowing no one can resist the book

and its gateway to Magic.

No one any longer believes in Magic.

Science and reality have been set in stone

ever since the crusaders stole the book

and put it somewhere safe.

It has gone unpracticed for the longest time

in order to shield the world from evil.

The misconceptions that it was evil 

forever doomed sweet Magic,

erased it from time,

and locked it in stone.

Alive and alone but "safe",

the magic pined away in the book.

How it wished to be free from the pages of the book!

It could not decide between good or evil;

to love or hate the humans that tried to keep it safe.

Ever brooding was Magic,

"Do I love or have a heart of stone?

Should I forgive this loss of time?"

After years of endless time

a child stumbled across the book

in its prison amongst the walls foundation stone.

The boy knew nothing of evil,

nor conflict in the heart of Magic

and was not to know that it was unsafe.

Not a soul in the world was safe.

Humans would not fare so well this time.

"Revenge!" cackled Magic,

"Revenge for the Magic of the Book!

 Now, I truly am evil,

after so many years lost in the stone."

Upon hearing Magic the boy closed the book.

To keep the world safe a second time

from Magic's evil he must trap it once again in stone.

Starvation by Dept

Will you buy me lunch?

Oh come on,

Why not?

Well how much do I owe you?

No way.

Not that much.

It was only like 

thirty-five dollars per person.

Okay,

Alright...

I'll bring it Monday.

No really,

I'll give it to you on Monday.

Okay.

Good.

So will you buy me lunch?

Wait,

Where are you

Going?

Sacrifice

Lost and alone in the dark

night poisoned wood.

Dead trees reach out with mangled fingers

scratching away everything good.

Voices whisper in the leaves

and shadows pass

that are not attached to any form

either loosely or held fast.

Beings crouch like gargoyles

letting out an evil hiss

marking you in their arrows aim

you pray to gods they miss.

Their ugly faces scrutinize you

and say you will suffice.

They keep you in your ignorance,

and oblivious to your sacrifice.

Villanelle

I watch the world upon phoenix wings

that caress the lands below

and I sing the song a siren sings.

I see so many horrid things

no human should ever know.

I watch the world upon phoenix wings.

Trying to save them from retched dreams

to which all people go

I sing the song a siren sings.

Delicate and dangling life strings 

cut by the fabled hero.

I watch the world upon phoenix wings.

Closely mending the unraveling seams

that are creating holes to and fro

I sing the song a siren sings.

Reaping the land of evil things 

whose face they dare show.

I watch the world upon phoenix wings 

and I sing the song a siren sings.

Dream List

Wake up your fellow cult members
and a group of victims.

Go downstairs and outside

into the darkest woods.
Take a knife and carve
an X onto the back
of each cult members neck.

Hold your victim over

pure white bread

and slit every victims 

throat in turn.

Cut the sacrificial bread into equal pieces

and give one to each

cult member.

Eat.

I promise, I do not need therapy...

Limerick

If you ask me the rule of limerick I'd say
To begin the rhyme scheme with A.
Make 3rd and 4th lines B,
That is the key
And we end once again with A.

Wasting all of the day is fine
If I need a day that's sublime.
Get out of the swing;
Forget everything
If only I ever had time!

The Occasion of the Rise of the Supermodel

A dark room.
One lit corner.
with a glimpse at
another, distant world.
A dock anchored to its still pond.
Waxy plants protrude from the ground
and ducklings wander with a waddle and a peep.
One little girl sits in the midst of it all
knowing the flowers bloom for her.
Princess, angel of Now:
the quaint little world
in a picture.

"Star Quality. A Supermodel. I
must take her picture again."
Can't say I was surprised.
I've heard it before.
I'll hear it again.
I do not need
an expert opinion
to tell me what I've
been telling you all along.

Colors

Who am I if not the Green Dragon?
Forcefully baring my teeth
with bravery from fear
of a sneaking thief
allowing none to come near.
Who am I if not the Golden Treasure?
Beautiful, sparkling, and pure
but as for my worth
I could not be too sure
and make certain my best is put forth.
Who am I if not the Red Knight?
Quick and ready to defend
I ride with my pride
to protect those who depend
and vanquish the monsters inside.