Deep-Swamp School
2. A new school

The alarm clock went off, blaring in my ear like the smoke detectors. I slammed the snooze button and groggily sat up. It was six thirty a.m. and I was not a morning person. I looked around my room, it had been stripped bare in the past week. I was going to a new school today, and even though I was only fifteen, it's a stay-away school. The thing I was mad about is that my parents have refused to tell me where the hell I'm going. They just keep telling me it's a new school and I'll be staying away, nothing more.
I sighed and got out of bed. My new school uniform was laid out on the floor next to my bed. I pulled on the sky-blue polo and the denim shorts. Went into my bathroom and combed my hair and brushed my teeth. I took my two suitcases downstairs and ran back up to my room to get my passenger bag. My mom had fixed me a breakfast of cheesy scrambled eggs and milk. When i finished eating and had put my dishes in the sink I looked up at the clock.
"Six fifty." I mumbled to myself. Only ten more minutes until the buses got here. I put on my new shiny black mary janes and slung my passenger bag around my shoulder and hauled my suitcases outside onto the front steps.
I must say, ten minutes is a long time when your mad and confused, but finally the buses showed up. There were five of them. Three filled with people, the other two were filled with luggage. I hugged my parents good-bye and walked up to the third bus. A man was waiting there and he asked for my suitcases. I gave them to him and climbed onto the bus. All the seats were taken except the back row. I walked down the crowed aisle and sat in the left window seat. The doors hissed closed and the bus stared moving.

After an hour or two people started to get restless and the chaos started. Someone had produced lots of paper and now wads of crumpled up paper and paper airplanes were being thrown around the bus. I tried to ignore all of the shouting and noise, but it was no use. I took my little red iPod nano and my big headphones out of my passenger bag and tuned the music up loud.

Another two hours, and now we were in the country. There was field after field of cotton and soy beans. My iPod was still well charged, but I didn't want to take any chances. So I put those away and took out my sketch book and a pencil. I wondered how I was going to get a good picture out of this bumpy bus ride but I didn't have anything else to do.
As I drew I noticed someone staring at me. I turned my head to see who it was. There was a boy sitting in the other window seat on the other side of the bus. He looked about sixteen and had long shoulder-length brown hair that had crimson high-light and fire-red tips. Though when I went to looked at him, he looked away. I stared at him for a second or two and then went back to my drawings.

Three hours. I gave up drawing and went back to staring out the window. I had no idea where we were now. It was nothing but what seemed to be dry marshland. The kids in the bus had quieted down. I heard a click as the bus speakers turn on.
"Ten more minutes until y'alls arrival at Deep-Swamp School." The cheery female voice of the bus driver rung out in the bus. Half of the kids in the bus cheered and began talking excitedly amongst themselves. I groaned. This was just great. I was going to a school in the middle of a swamp. How nice.

Ten minutes later the bus pulled up to a stop. I couldn't see the school through the mass of now standing people. The bus speaker clicked back on again.
"Your luggage will be carried to your dorms once they have been picked. I hope y'all have a fun time this year." Spoke the voice of the buss driver. I waited for most of the kids to get off the bus before I got up and walked out myself. AS I stepped out of the bus and looked to where all the kids were heading I froze. I was beautiful! It looked like a giant conservatory building, with all it's glass domes and such.
"Beautiful, ain't it?" A boy spoke from behind me. But when I turned around to see who it was, there was no one there. I turned back to the school.
"Well here goes nothing." I said and walked towards the school.

Deep-Swamp School
3. Power unleashed

I walked up to the two huge double oaken doors that lead into the school. The inside of the school was just as amazing as the outside. I was pushed and shoved through the crowd of kids and teenagers into a huge glass-domed hall. In the hall there was rows and rows of chairs, and everybody began sitting down. I found myself a chair in the middle of it all and waited for everything to quite down.

After about ten minutes of everyone situating themselves the hall became quiet. At the front of the hall there was a stage-like platform, raised about five feet off the ground. Standing on it was a very tall and slender woman with long raven black hair. She looked like she was in her late thirties. Behind her there stood five men and five women.
"Welcome to Deep-Swamp School, a school for those with paranormal powers." The raven haired woman spoke, her voice ringing loud and clear throughout the hall.
"For those of you who are new students, I welcome you here and I do hope you enjoy your time here. For those of you who have been here before I welcome you back." She said.
"I am principle Lanita Krane, and these are your teachers." The principle introduced herself and the teachers. One of the teachers produced a long slip of paper and a bowl on a stool.
"When I call your name, please come up and pick a number from the bowl. This number will be the number of your dorm." The principle smiled as she spoke.
"Amy Blake?" She called. A small golden-haired girl with a Goldilocks style hairdo stood up. She was also wearing a sky-blue polo like I was, but instead of shorts she was wearing a mini skirt. She also had high-heeled mary janes, but she was still short. Amy walked up to the stage and walked up some stairs on the side and picked a number out of the bowl.
"Twenty-seven." She said. Her voice sounded like the voice of somebody who always got what they wanted.
"Thank you very much miss Blake. Please sit back down." The principle told her. Amy walked back to her seat and sat down.
"Alexander Blake?" The principle called. A pudgy boy with crew-cut dirty blond hair stood up and walked up onto the stage. His uniform was the same as the mine, except his polo was red and black and he had on plain jeans. He picked a number out of the bowl.
"Forty-two." He said. The principle gestured for him to sit back down and he did.

This went on for about another twenty students.
"Andre Sliverbane?" The principle called. I froze. That was me! Slowly I stood and left my bag on my seat. I walked up to the stage. Time seemed to slow to a crawl. I was so nervous, everyone was staring at me! Finally I found myself standing next to the bowl. I reached in and picked out a slip of paper.
"Three." I spoke, sound much more sure of myself than I really was.
"Thank you very much miss Silverbane." The principle told me. Her eyes were a beautiful deep and dark chocolate brown that seemed to glow with some unknown light. I went back to my seat and sat down. I let out the breath I didn't know I was holding. I was the only one so far that had chosen a three.

About twenty minutes went by, along with about sixty other students. I sighed. I was getting restless and wanted to stand up and move around. That bus ride had damn near killed me.
"Thane Pryhes?" The principle called out. The same boy that I had seen earlier on the bus stood up. He was wearing a crimson red and black polo and baggy-ish jeans. He walked up to the bowl and picked out a number. He hesitated before saying what number it was.
"....... Three."
I almost fell out of my seat. He was in my dorm! He walked back down to his seat. As he did so he made eye contact with me. His eyes were red! I looked away. This was just too weird.

Another fifty students picked their dorms. At least no one has gotten the last three... I thought.
"Nicoleus Trueborn?" The principle called. A tall slender boy with extremely white blond hair and glasses stood up. He was wearing the same polo as all the boys and a pair of normal denim jeans. He walked up to the stage and picked a number.
"Three, madame." He said. Again I nearly fell out of my seat. I was paired with two boys, and this was okay!? I sighed and leaned back in my seat. There was nothing I could do about it now.

Twenty more students got called up. I counted one-hundred and fifty in all. Damn, that was a lot of kids.
"Now that you all have picked your dorms, your luggage will be moved to your rooms. Please, explore the ground outside and stay out of the way of the men and women that will be taking your things up to the third floor. And please to enjoy your time here at Deep-Swamp School. A school for those with paranormal powers." The principle said. Everyone stood up and exited the glass-domed hall.

I was sitting on a bench under a weeping willow that was in front of the school. I watched the movers take the suitcases into the school. They looked like little ants. I was completely confused and frazzled. What was I doing here? I didn't have any 'paranormal powers'. Not that I knew of anyways. Did my parents know about this? Did they know something about me and never told me?
"Aye, you!" Someone yelled at me, making me loose my train of thought. I turned around. It was Alexander Blake.
"Whats your power girl?" He demanded. I looked down.
"I don't got one...." I said glumly. He laughed.
"No power? Then what are you doing here? You don't belong here. Your just a stupid little worthless girl." He said harshly. I tried hard to hold back my tears, but Alexander must have seen them.
"Whats this? You a crybaby too?" He asked tauntingly. I felt like hitting him, but I knew that would only get me in trouble.
"Crybaby, crybaby." Alexander said in a sing-song voice.
"Stop." I said looking away.
"No." Alexander said coming around to the front of the bench and waving a hand in my face.
"I'm the one with power here. I tell you what to do." He said. I clenched my fists. My mood had gone from deeply hurt to really pissed off in a matter a seconds.
"I said stop." I told him, I felt as though a fire was burning inside of me.
"Hey! What did I tell you? Huh? I'm the one in charge here!" He said yanking my hair.
"Whats with this purple hair anyways?" He asked tauntingly, pulling down hard. That was the last straw. I exploded with anger. And to my surprise, power as well. I could feel the power that surrounded me in a swirling cloud of purple and black smoke like it was an extension of my body. I looked at Alexander, my eyes burning with hatred.
"I said stop." I repeated, my voice seemed to be laced with poison, even to myself. Alexander tried to back away, but he was to slow. I slapped him as hard as I could with the back of my hand. To my surprise, he flew about fifteen feet and hit his head on the side of an empty bus. The bus nearly tipped over as Alexander fell to the ground, his head bleeding. I stared at him and the huge dent in the bus. I did that? I asked myself, astonished. I felt my power die down and along with is my strength and I fell limp onto the grass. I could hear people shouting, and my world went black.

I was laying on something soft. Where was I? I opened my eyes slowly. I was looking up at a glass dome ceiling that was covered in vines. It was then I noticed someone looking at me. I tried to sit up but pain shot through my body when I tried to move.
"Woah there." A kind voice spoke to me, and I felt a hand on my shoulder.
"Wha-? Where am I? Who are you?" I asked turning my head in the direction of the voice.
"I'm Thane, I'm in your dorm." He said. I looked at him. His red eyes glowed like the embers of a flame.
"Andre." I introduced myself.
"Nice to meet you." Thane said smiling.
"You sure did hit Alexander hard, he's got a huge purple welt on the side of his face were you hit him." Thane chuckled as he spoke.
"Really?" I asked him, not sure weather to feel successful or guilty.
"Oh yeah. Here I'll help you up so you can see." Thane said. He gently help me sit up and then he put some pillows behind me so I had something to lean on. On the bed across from me Alexander lay, his head in a bandage and a huge purple welt that covered most of the right side of his face.
"I did that?" I asked bewildered.
"Yes you did." Another voice answered. I turned to look at the new person. It was the boy with white hair.
"I'm Nicoleus." He said pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. His eyes were a amazing! They were like prisms sparkling in the sunlight.
"You find what category she is?" Thane asked Nicoleus.
"Yes. Andre you are in the 'Void' category." He said.
"Void?" I repeated.
"Basically you can control all aspects of black magic. Void is a very powerful ability, but it is also highly unstable and hard to control." Nicoleus told me as he sat on the edge of the bed.
"So what does that mean?" I asked them worriedly.
"That my dear friend," Thane put a hand on my shoulder.
"That means you are a very special person. There hasn't been a Void student here for twenty years." He said winking at me. I smiled. I was staring to like this place.

Sorry for interupting.
But this is something I did back in Creative Writing as an assignment. More of a one-shot short story.
It's a personification story where we had to capture certain expressions and have them demonstrated as people.

Forwards or Backwards?

"Which way do I go, what should I do, how is everything going to happen?" I combed my hair with my fingers, stressed to the point of finally breaking. Patience placed a hand on my shoulder, "Don't worry, let things happen and deal with it then." Doubt looked at her with a disbelieving look, "Oh come on! He could very well never look at her that way. Let alone who knows what will happen and what then if it turns out horrible?" Patience walked over to the grandfather clock, admiring it as it slowly but surely ticked away the hours.
"Yes, but yet again what if he accepts? Also what in fact that it does turn out for the best? All we have to do is wait."
"Wait? Is that some kind of joke? We can't wait around forever." Doubt stomped over to the window, debating whether or not to open it or simply stare out of it. I looked between them, if you thought about it they could very well be a cute couple. Patience could handle Doubt's troubles and reassure him that everything is all right and there's always tomorrow.

"I appreciate the help you guys, I think I'll follow Patience's advice. I'll wait it out and if he doesn't like me, I can always find someone else," I gave them a weak smile. Patience flashed me an encouraging smile while Doubt stared between us, another look of disbelief on his face.

"You both cannot be serious! I mean come on Steph, I figured you would be dying to know how everything is going to be," Doubt shook his head down before sitting down on the floor before getting up and sitting on the sofa. I nodded and then shrugged.

"You're right Doubt, I do want to know what will happen, but there are some things that just have to be waited out." Patience carefully went into the kitchen, and she could be heard shuffling through the cupboards. Minutes later, after hearing the microwave's timer go of, Patience came back with a bowl of popcorn and three cans off soda.

"I think what we need is a good movie to cheer us up," Patience announced taking a seat next to Doubt.

"Yeah and what movie are we going to watch miss I'm the seer of all?" huffed Doubt, struggling to make up his mind to scoot closer to Patience or to the other side of the couch.

"Well either Fight Club or Sleepover, take your pick." Doubt looked at me and I knew he wanted to watch FC but he also knew this was for me. Patience looked at him over the rim of her glasses. He sighed in defeat.

"Fine, I choose Sleepover; are you happy?"

Patience smiled and nodded," Very much so, and you Steph? I personally would like Sleepover as well." I shrugged and sighed.

"Does it even matter? It's two to one even if I didn't want to watch it. So put Sleepover in and lets get this over with." Patience hopped out of her seat and walked over to the movie shelves and looked for the chosen movie, then proceed to pop it into the DVD Player and rejoined us on the sofa, remote in hand.

"Alright, time for some heartfelt moments. Now Doubt don't be shy to cry on my shoulder if it gets too sad for you." Doubt scowled and then finally decided on scooting away from Patience. She smiled and flipped on the T.V. and pressed the play button.

All throughout the movie I tried my hardest not to cry. The whole thing was about the girl chasing her crush and worrying if he liked her or not, while trying to win some stupid scavenger hunt, just for some lunch spot near the fountain. Also one of her friends had thought no one would ever ask her out because she was fat. But surprise, surprise a guy working as a roadie for some band encountered her outside a club and offered his help. Then later on when they got to the high school, which was the finish line, he dedicated a song and they got together.

How lame can that be? Shoving propitious ideas into little girls minds about such far-fetched dreams of someone liking them despite how "ugly" they are. Sure there may be a guy like that out there, but the majority of the male population doesn't work that way.

Patience calmly placed her hand on my shoulder, "Is everything all right Steph?" I shook her hand away, "No, this movie is just a bunch of crap." Doubt frowned, eyebrows knitting together.

"Steph." he started, but I cut him off.

"No! I can't take it! Why does everything in romantic comedies have to turn out happy?" I leaped out of my seat and swung around to stare at them. "Just once I would like to see a movie where the girl doesn't get the guy." Patience looked to the floor and spoke slowly coming up with the words as she went, "Well Steph, I guess it's what everyone hopes to happen and that someday it will. It's all in the matter of time."

"No! I'm sick of hearing it! All of my life I've been told about something I long for to happen and all I hear is all in the matter of time! When Patience when? Just once I'd like to have something happen when I want it to. I can't live on just waiting for one little thing to happen," I struggled to keep the tears that had begun to build up, from falling, but that war had already been lost as they took their pilgrimage down my face.

Doubt looked unsure of himself as Patience enveloped me into a massive hug; before he finally shrugged and joined Patience in the so far one-sided embrace. I clung to them for support as I cried until surely I had been completely drained of my body's water content. Patience just rocked me back and forth, murmuring soft words of encouragement. Doubt wrapped his arms around me, "Don't worry Steph, if you ever need courage and confidence I won't stand in your way and you'll have Patience to help you."

I sniffled before wiping gently at my eyes, "Thanks you guys. I could never have gotten through this without you." Patience gave me an assuring hug before standing up.

"Don't worry, only time can tell the future."

This is really just a brain-storm story. I thought I might post it up >.>

Power

"She claims to be peaceful. Do you believe her?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"I know what she is.... Her kind are not peaceful."
"Yet you want to help her. Why?"
"That, my dear freind, is my bussiness alone."
"But.... Hey, wait! What are you doing?! No! No! No! Noooooo.........."
"Thank you for all your help, filthy human."

Andre awoke to find herself laying on a cold metal floor. Her head was spinning. "Where am I?" She thought, looking around. She was in some sort of holding cell. Had they caught her? No they couldn't have. Not unless he wanted her to be caught. The smell of two humans and one demon came into her nose. "A demon? Has the master come to get me out? Or is it a traitor?" Andre thought as she stood up. The room was entirely made of metal. Not one soft place to sit in the whole thing. There wasn't a table or any chairs in the room as well. "Smart. They knew I could use most anything for a weapon, so they don't give me the chance." She thought smiling. It was then she noticed her teeth had been filed down. "No! The didn't dare!" But it was the truth. They had filed down her teeth. Her teeth had been her pride, part of her being, what made her what she was. Andre heard a click, and part of the metal wall slid open. Two human men walked in. The demon followed in behind them. He was a young looking demon, about eighteen. But Andre couldn't put a finger on as to what kind of demon he was. "Why would he hide form me? Is he hiding from them as well?" All of her question were soon to be answered.
"He you are lord Carranthian." Spoke one of the men.
"Thank you very much. May I speak with her alone?" The demon, lord Carranthian, as Andre picked up, asked.
"Well um lord, she is quite dangerous." Said the second man.
"You'll know if anything goes wrong."
"But sir!"
"I'll be fine. Now please leave." And with that, he had dismissed the two humans. Andre leaned back on the wall behind her and crossed her arms.
"You either have a lot of nerve or a lot of power to push them around like that." She said to the demon. He laughed.
"It is power my dear." He said, smiling at her.
"Now I'm sure you want to know why I'm here?" He asked.
"That would be nice." She said.
"Well I'm here for two reasons. The first is to tell you that your master has been slain." He said walking up to Andre.
"The second it that I'm taking his place and getting you out of here." He told her. Andre scoffed.
"What makes you think I'm gonna go with you?" She asked him. She wanted to get out, but not by the hand o any ordinary demon. Andre wanted to know what he was.
"This does." He told her. Images flashed through Andre's head. Images of the contract her and her master had. They flashed to the part where it said that if her master were to die, his son would take his place. It was then The image of lord Carranthian's true form came into her mind. This let her wide-eyed.
"You..." Andre began.
"Not know." Carranthian told her. She nodded. Andre couldn't believe what he was. An Arch Devil. The first one in over five-thousand years.

I watched its feathered breast rise and fall rapidly, expecting to see panic in it’s eyes, fear even. All I saw however were two black orbs, glossy and, to me, emotionless. I’m sure it was terrified, the poor thing was trembling, but I was blind to any emotions eyes would normally portray, for I am not a bird.

It’s slender scaly leg bent back in the most awkward of ways, and it left a spot of blood on my hand. It thrashed, trying desperately to escape it’s captor, but I held it. I didn’t want it to hurt itself worse, nor did I want for it to fall, once again, to its hunter.

I didn’t hurt this little bird of course, and if I had, it hadn’t been intentional.

No, while doing homework I heard my cat. A sound he made only in the upmost pride after capturing his prey. There he sat, at my bedroom window (curtained and ground level), gloating over his catch. Oh what small animal has fallen to the great black hunter with the brilliant green eyes?

My sweet pet has brought me presents before, usually freshly killed. Mice, rats, moles… Occasionally they are alive, but just barely. Paralyzed, or with organs hanging out, I’ve had to finish off these small creatures before, generally by throwing them into the lake behind my house. I felt guilty with every body that hit the water, as if I myself had caught the creature and torn out its throat.

I can see the cat, standing on the walkway to the door, and in its mouth… oh, why a bird? A free flyer, a small feathery friend. Still moving. Still breathing. Still alive.

I fake pleasure, congratulating and praising my pet for its successful catch. It can’t tell the difference between a bird and a mouse, and cats are natural hunters, who am I to punish him for that? But then, with that mischief, he runs, bird still in his mouth.

I’m sure the bird must be in pretty bad shape.

I return inside only long enough to retrieve a can of cat food. I distract my little hunter and salvage his pray, the little bird lies still in my hand, save for its labored breathing. Aside from the broken leg, it appears to be alright, however I can’t see it from the inside.

I bring it inside and I set it in a plastic tub with paper towels lining the bottom. It leaves a spot of blood on the paper towel. Poor little bird…

I stroke it lightly, it’s feathers soft under my touch. This little free flier, I’ve seen it’s type dance over the sky every morning, but to see it fall was like a reverse beacon of hope, the lack of. Over all, depressing.

Then, it moved. Violently. It thrashed its wing, it turned in circles, as if seizuring. I held it lightly in my hand, trying to prevent it from hurting itself worse, it was very warm. I brought it to my mother, looking for advice, she moved it to a strip of toilet paper to replace my hand, hoping not to overheat it. Perhaps I already had. I looked at it’s face through the gap in the paper, we were careful not to suffocate it. But still, I saw no movement.

None.

I lifted the paper slightly, no… it wasn’t breathing.

Just like that, the little bird had died, and there had been nothing for me to do. Perhaps I should have just left it to the cat, or perhaps I should have let it thrash, maybe it was trying to cool itself, or relieve its pain. Perhaps it’s death was partially my fault. Or perhaps it was doomed to die before I even touched it. There was no way for m to know, and I wonder, would it be better to know?

It wouldn’t help anything now.

I dropped it in the yard waste bin, regretting such an informal burial. A creature of the skies, left to rot among garbage. And I… went on with my life.

Originally Posted by tanarif984

Okies!

I have 2!

Better to be Unlucky :

Sam, an unemployed piano tuner, said it was only the second thing he had ever won in his life. The first thing was an Afghan blanket at a church raffle when he was 25 years old. But this was much bigger: it was $120,000! He had won the Big Cube, a state lottery game. To win, a contestant must first guess which number a spinning cube will stop on. The cube has six numbers on it: 1X, 10X, 50X, 100X, 500X, and 1000X. If he is correct, the contestant must then guess which of two selected variables is going to be greater. So, just guessing which number appears on the cube does not guarantee that you will win any money.

Sam correctly guessed 1000X, but he still had to choose between two variables. One variable was the number of cars that would run the stop sign at Hill Street and Lake Avenue in six hours. The other variable was the number of times that a teenage boy would change TV channels in a three-hour period. This was a tough decision.

Finally, Sam flipped a coin. It came up heads, so Sam picked the teenager. He picked right. The stop sign was run only 76 times, but the teen clicked 120 times. Sixty-year-old Sam jumped for joy, for he had just won 1000 times 120, or $120,000. Sam dreamily left the lottery studio. Talking excitedly on his cell phone while crossing the street, he got hit by a little sports car.

Sam is slowly getting better. He was in the hospital for a month. His hospital bill was $110,000. And the insurance company for the little sports car’s owner sued Sam for $9,000 worth of repairs. Also, Sam still has to pay federal taxes on his winnings. Sam doesn’t play the state lottery any more. He says it’s better to be unlucky.

Thats crap, it was a sort of bored story

This one is a bit better, or well what i think:





A story is told about a soldier who was finally coming home after having fought in Vietnam. He called his parents from San Francisco.

"Mom and Dad, I'm coming home, but I've a favor to ask. I have a friend I'd like to bring home with me."

"Sure," they replied, "we'd love to meet him."

"There's something you should know the son continued, "he was hurt pretty badly in the fighting. He stepped on a land mind and lost an arm and a leg. He has nowhere else to go, and I want him to come live with us."

"I'm sorry to hear that, son. Maybe we can help him find somewhere to live."

"No, Mom and Dad, I want him to live with us."

"Son," said the father, "you don't know what you're asking. Someone with such a handicap would be a terrible burden on us. We have our own lives to live, and we can't let something like this interfere with our lives. I think you should just come home and forget about this guy. He'll find a way to live on his own."

At that point, the son hung up the phone. The parents heard nothing more from him. A few days later, however, they received a call from the San Francisco police. Their son had died after falling from a building, they were told. The police believed it was suicide. The grief-stricken parents flew to San Francisco and were taken to the city morgue to identify the body of their son. They recognized him, but to their horror they also discovered something they didn't know, their son had only one arm and one leg.

that second strory is amazing

A hiding place
The beginning?

Salvanis set the young child down on the Vellance border. Hopefully the patrols would find her before she starved. He had already cast a spell over her that would keep the wild beasts away from her. She was so beautiful. And he would come back for her. He didn't know when he would be able, but she couldn't come to his clan. She was a mortal. He was an immortal. They could not live within the same clan just yet.

Salvanis started the long trek back to his clan's territory. He couldn't help but look back every few steps. He wouldn't even know her name. He would have no idea who he was looking for. But maybe.... Maybe she would be different in some way. Maybe that way he would find her. But Salvanis doubted it. Rarely did mortals and immortal meet in peace. Rarely did they meet at all.

•••<§>•••

Kracen elbowed Salvanis in the ribs.
"So, what lucky mortal caught your eye?" He nudged. Salvanis ignored him.
"Salvanis, you haven't fallen for a child have you?" Kracen asked, being more serious now. Salvanis took a sip of his coffee.
"Why is that so bad?" He asked, looking sternly at Kracen. Kracen's face went completely serious now.
"Salvanis, you know that it would never work. She'll be raised to hate us. How would you get to her anyways?" He asked, worry creeping into his gruff voice. Salvanis looked up to the night sky.
"I'll think of something." He said, "I'll find her."

A hiding place
Discovery.

Acce hit the wall, making a dent and bloodying her knuckles.
"Stupid." She said, hitting the wall once more.
"Stupid, stupid, stupid!" She yelled, hitting the wall over and over again.
"Why can't I gain rank? Because I'm a girl. Thats why." Acce hit the wall harder.
"Girls can only get up to messenger rank. If that." She took a breath and then hit the wall again. Under all her anger, the wall cracked and there was now a hole from her bedroom to her bathroom. Acce sighed harshly and lay down on her bed. She knew that she could do more. She was smart. She won every challenge she was faced with. Except this one. Everyone 'important' in her clan was male, and they all looked down on the women as worthless creatures that couldn't do more than cook and clean. It was unfair. There was a knock on her door.
"Who is it?!" Acce yelled. She was in no mood to talk to anybody.
"Acce, Acce, they caught an immortal! Come quick before they take him away!" Called the muffled voice of her one and only friend, Kaley, through the wooden door. Acce perked right back up.
"An immortal!?" She asked, leaping up from her bed and opening the door. Kaley was standing there with and exited look on her freckled face.
"Come on," She wined.
"You wanna see him right?" Kaley asked, dragging Acce, bloody knuckles and all, down the halls. They both ran as fast as they could. Neither of them had seen an immortal before.

Acce and Kaley got to the hall where the guards found the immortal just in time for Acce to catch a glimpse of him. He had long, elven-like ears, and uncut white-blond hair. But that was all that Acce could see of him before the gaurds dragged him into a nearby room.
"Did you see him?" Kaley urged her.
"Yeah.... I did...." Acce said, as if in a trance. She had recognized the immortal from some where. But where? She'd never seen one before.

After a few minutes, a well built man came out and started waving people away.
"Alright, shows over. Go back to your posts." Yelled Henrik, the deputy of the clan. People ground but slowly left the scene. Kaley started to leave, but Acce stayed.
"You heard Henrik, lets scram before he does something to us." Kaley hissed at Acce.
"I have to know." Acce said, sneaking around to the vent that lead to the room. Kaley wasn't the one to break the rules, so she left Acce to her adventure. Acce looked in through the grates and watched as Henrik and Sable question the now imprisoned immortal.
"Why are you here?" Sable, the clan leader, demanded of the immortal.
"I have my reasons. Don't we all, Sable?" The immortal responded. How could he know Sable's name?
"What was that?!" Henrik said, hand raised, ready to slap the immortal.
"Thats wouldn't be a good idea Henrik." The immortal said, looking up at Henrik from the chair he was bound to.
"How do you know our names?!" Henrik demanded.
"I'm an immortal. Think anything loud enough or carelessly enough, and I can hear you. Your names are simple things you would never think about hiding, therefore I know them." The immortal replied, unwaveringly. Henrik clenched his hand in a fist, but didn't hit the immortal.
"Well since you know our names, it is only fair you tell us yours." Sable said crossing his arms. The immortal didn't answer at first.
"My name is Salvanis." He said. Henrik scoffed. "Why does that name ring a bell?" Acce thought, trying to remember where she could've met him before.
"Salvanis, huh? Well Salvanis, tell up what you were doing here!" Henrik's voice got louder and meaner and his sentence progressed. Salvanis looked Henrik strait in the eye.
"I came for something I left behind." He said, his tone sounded sad.
"And what is that?" Sable asked.
"A young girl."
"Do you know her name?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"Her mother did not live long enough to give her one."
"Did you kill her mother?"
"No! She was my friend! I told her I would care for her child as long as I could and then deliver the child to her clan. This clan!" Salvanis yelled. As if he had been deeply hurt by Sable thinking that he had killed the mother. Henrik turned to Sable.
"Sir, there was a child found on the border," He leaned over and whispered something into Sable's ear. Sable's brow knitted up in thought.
"Was that all?" Sable asked Salvanis.
"Yes."
"Very well. We'll let you talk with the girl we think it might be. But I swear if you do anything rash with her that will mean war betwixt are clans." Sable said, strictly. Salvanis nodded.
"I understand."

Acce ran silently back to her room. She didn't want Henrik or Sable knowing that she had heard the whole thing. "So the immortal was a friend of a mortal?" She questioned herself as she reached her door. Acce heard the heavy steps of Henrik's boots coming down the hall and quickly dodged into her room. But the steps still stopped outside her room. Had they seen her?!
"Acce?" Henrik's deep voice came trough the wooden door.
"Yes?" She acknowledged him, keeping her voice form wavering.
"Would you come with me?" He asked.
"Am I in trouble?" She asked, making herself sound sarcastic, like she usually did when Henrik asked her to go with him.
"Maybe." Henrik said, his usual response. Acce took a deep breath and opened the door. Henrik looked down on her, but showed her back to the room that held Salvanis. Acce felt waves of heat flow through her body, her usual response to thinking or knowing she was in trouble. Henrik opened the door, Sable was waiting.
"Ah, Acce." He said, as Henrik closed the door harshly behind her. Salvanis perked his head up when sable spoke to Acce.
"This immortal says that he dropped an infant off at our borders, about sixteen years ago. You were the only child dropped off sixteen years ago." Sable explained, pulling up a chair for Acce.
"Lets let them talks, Henrik. Come." Sable said, exiting the room. Henrik gave Acce and Salvanis a hateful glare and left.
"Acce..." Salvanis seemed to be turning the word over in his mind. Acce just sat there.
"Acce. Taken from Nileacce, your mother's name, yes?" He asked, looking at her with eyes that looked like they were made of gold-leaf.
"Thats what Sable told me. But how do you know?" Acce asked, she had a good idea, but Sable and Henrik were probably listening and Acce didn't want them to know she had heard them before.
"Your mother was a friend of mine. She went into labor when I was escorting her back here. But something went wrong. I couldn't save her....." He turned hung his head down.
"I didn't know then what I know now."
"You must've been really young, you look my age." Acce said, thinking that his age might have been the reason. Salvanis chuckled.
"No child. I was sixty then." He said looking back up at her. Acce was taken aback.
"Sixty? But..." She waved at Salvanis.
"You look my age!" Acce exclaimed.
"I'm a elven vampiric immortal, I can control what age I look." Salvanis said, his features changing from those of a eighteen-year-old to a full grown adult, to a young child, and then back. Acce watched in amazement.
"See?" Salvanis asked. Acce nodded. But then a question came her mind.
"Why did you come back for me?" She asked him. Salvanis looked away.
"That.... Thats a little odd for me... Especially with them two listening in on us." He said, nodded towards the door. Acce stifled a laugh. Sable and Henrik had been found out. Now that was something to laugh about. Sable opened the door.
"Alright Salvanis, you wanted Acce. Does Acce want to go with you?" He asked, obviosly itching to get Salvanis out of here. Acce saw Henrik's face go from stern to hopeful and Acce knew that he was hoping Acce would leave. Salvanis looked at Acce.
"Do you?" His voice was hopeful. Acce though it over for a minute. She hated this place. Henrik was always mean to her, as was everyone. Except Kaley. But Kaley was loyal to the Venllance clan only. Yes, she thought the immortals were interesting, but not interesting enough for Acce's taste.
"I want to go with Salvanis." She stated. Sable nodded, and Henrik grinned broadly.

Mortal/Immortal
A win-win situation.

Acce pulled her red hair up into a pony-tail.
"Alright, you boys ready?" She asked the small group of boys that had wanted in. They looked to one another.
"If you guys are to scared to go, you can stay." Acce said tauntingly. She really didn't need them, but things got so much more fun with more people participating.
"What if we get caught? What then?" One of the boys asked. Acce rolled her eyes.
"How many times do I have to tell you. If we get caught, nobody says a word. That way we all get off free." She said, looking at the boy skeptically.
"Okay. Lets go." Said one. Acce smiled. This was gonna be great.

Acce lead the boys through and down the hallways of the clan's main living complex, her bare feet making no sound on the ruff stone floor. The goal was to sneak into the armory and take a blade of choice. Acce wasn't allowed to wield a blade, she was girl. Girls weren't allowed to fight. But that never stopped her. The boys wanted in because they all were to young to have a blade, but wanted one anyways.
They ran silently down the halls. Acce stopped them and hurried them into a corner where a passerby was least possible to see them. She looked up, searching for a ceiling tile that she could pop loose. Finding one, Acce jumped up and popped the tile out of place, reviling an empty space. She motioned for the boys to come out and head up into the empty space. Right as the boys came out of hiding, there was the sound of metal boots clanking down onto the floor behind them. "Tihs." Acce cursed under her breath as she turned around to face the person who had caught them. It was Henrik, the clan's deputy. He was a tough man with muscle and metal boots. Always metal boots.
"And what might you children think you are doing?" He questioned. No one said anything. "They better hold to their word." Acce thought.
"Alright then. Who organized this?" Henrik asked once more, waving to them and then to the ceiling. The boys looked to one another and then stepped back, leaving Acce alone. Acce clenched her fists.
"Sdrawoc." She hissed at them. Henrik motioned for Acce to followed him, and she did so.

After a very long and 'important' lecture from Henrik, Acce was allowed to go. She walked down the halls back to her room. On the way she saw the group of boys chattering to one another, but the shut up almost immediately as she walked by. Acce would get back at them later.
Once in her room, Acce hit the wall, making her scabbed knuckles open up and stain the bandages that were wrapped around them. But she was in no mood to change them
"I hate this place." She said to the now dented wall. "It's no fun. I can't do anything. All the men and boys get to do everything. All we girls do is cook, clean, and reproduce." Acce said with a sigh. It was true. That was what all the women did in the Vellace clan. Acce leaned up against the wall and removed the smooth black stone from her neck. She held the pendant up to the torch beside her and watched as the dull black stone turned into a beautiful clear gem that sparkled like a prism in the sun. It had been her mother's. At least that was what Sable, the clan leader, had told her. He had said that she had been found as an infant on the border of the clans territory, upon her mother's grave with this pendant wrapped around her wrist. Yet Sable would never tell Acce her mother's name. Acce had asked once and all she got was a slap in the face by Henrik. She still had the bruise.Her stomach grumbled. Acce sighed. She hadn't eaten anything today. She went over to her door and walked outside into the hallway.

On her way to the to dining hall, Acce passed Sable's office and heard voices coming from within it. Being the curious trouble-maker girl she was, Acce stepped closer to the door, trying to hear who was inside. There were three voices. Sable's, Henrik's, and a voice Acce had never heard before. She could hear them but she couldn't make out what they were saying. Forgetting her hunger, Acce looked down all three hallways that lead into the hallway she stood in. No one was insight. "Good." She thought, looking up to the ceiling for a tile she could pop loose once more. Once she had found one, Acce jumped up and popped it loose. She quickly hauled herself up into the hollow space and put the tile back in place. Following the sound of Henrik's voice, Acce crawled to the vent that was placed over Sable's office. Through the grates, Acce saw Sable, Henrik, and another man she had never seen before bound to a chair. The man in the chair had long elven-like ears and white blond hair, but that was all Acce could see of him.
"Why are yo here?!" Henrik pressed the man.
"I'm here for someone I left behind." The man responded. How could the Vellance clan help him with that?
"And who might that someone be?" Henrik asked, obviously annoyed.
"I don't know the name you call her by. I've always been calling her Nileacce, after her mother." He man said. Sable, who hadn't said much than a simple 'yes' and 'go on' perked up.
"Did you say Nileacce?" Sable asked the man.
"Yes. Why?"
"What do you want with Nileacce's daughter?"
"She......." The man paused. "Nileacce asked me to take care of her. But I couldn't take her to my own clan, given that I am an immortal. The child would have been killed on sight. But now, since she might be able to prove herself, she can come with me." he finished. Acce covered her mouth to keep Henrik and Sable form hearing her gasp. The man was an immortal. Acce had never seen one before. All the books she had read said that the immortals were ugly, deformed creatures. But this man looked quite the opposite.
"Oh?" Henrik questioned, his tone saying that he didn't believe the immortal.
"Yes. And I intend to keep my word to Nileacce." The immortal said, determination in his voice. Sable walked up to the chair.
"Tell me, immortal, what does the child look like?" He asked.
"She would have red hair," He started. "She would also have turquoise eyes. A birth mark on her lower left stomach, oval in shape. A shade lighter than her skin." Acce held her breath. "And I left a pendant on her wrist. A black stone." He finished. Acce let out the breath. She was the child! She had red hair, turquoise eyes, an oval birth mark on her lower left stomach, and the pendant!
"Sable, thats Acce." Henrik confirmed Acce's thoughts.
"Yes, yes, I know Henrik."
"Acce...." The immortal said her name softly. Henrik and Sable moved out of Acce's vision but not her hearing.
"Sir, what now?"
"I don't know Henrik."
"Acce is a trouble maker, maybe in letting her have taste of th real world, she will learn her lesson when she comes back."
"No, I will not do that."
"Why not? You yourself have asked if she should be sent out to prove her worth."
"She will not be coming back." Sable said, returning to Acce's line of sight. But she was utterly shocked. Did Sable hate her so much that he would kick her out?
"Henrik, go fetch Acce. Tell her to pack." Sable ordered Henrik. Acce panicked. She was up in the ceiling, not in her room. What was she to do?! But wait, she was on her way to the dining hall when she stumbled onto this. She could wait until Henrik was far enough away, and then jump down and head for the dining hall! With that plan in mind, Acce listened for Henrik to pass and then found a loose tile and lowered herself down. Acce was sure to pull the tile back into place as she went down. Once on the ground, Acce sped over to the dining hall.

About twenty minutes later, Henrik walked into the dining hall and headed towards Acce.
"Acce." He said.
"Yes, sir?" She responded in her usual 'smart ass' tone.
"Go and pack your things. You're leaving." Henrik said bluntly. Acce stood up.
"Where am I going?" She asked, looking him in the eye.
"You have been kicked out. We have a escort prepared for you. Now go pack." And with that, Henrik left. Acce stood there, fuming. Even though she knew this was going to happen, she was still enraged.

After packing the few items that were really important to her, Acce headed for Sable's office. On her way there she saw that group of boys that had ditched her. Knowing that she couldn't get in any more trouble now that she wasn't apart of the clan anymore, Acce walked up to the boys.
"So, you guys really are cowards." She told them and before they could respond, Acce punched one of them right in the middle of his face. He fell to the floor, his nose bleeding, and tears already running down his face.
"Thats what you get for turning me in you sehcitb." She spat at them. Acce then proceeded to Sable's office.
Acce knocked on the door to Sable's office.
"Who is it?" He called.
"Acce."
"Come in." Sable said. Acce opened the door. She had to control the emotions on her face. Which was hard. She wanted to know what the immortal looked like clearly so badly! When she stepped in the door, she gave a fake gasp. The elven clans were an enemy of the Vellance clan, and the immortal did look like an elf. She wanted Sable and Henrik to think that she was surprised.
"Acce, this is an immortal. You are now part of his clan." Sable told her. Acce opened and closed her mouth. Making it seem like she was confused.
"Now get out!" Sable yelled. The immortal came up to Acce and placed a hand on her shoulder.
"Come, let us go. They don't want us here. And the trip to my clan's borders is a long one." He said, ushering her out of the room. Acce smiled to herself. "Finally out. And I'm leaving with an immortal. This must be the best day of my life so far." She thought as she and the immortal left the main clan complex.

I walked upon the path. There were flowers on either side of me, faceless flowers of vibrant colors, ending only upon the horizon. They were of all shades of the rainbow, purple, blue, orange, red, yellow, all with bright, green stalks. The road upon I tread was dirt, the type which doesn't throw dust up to the mercy of the air, but more the forest-ground type of dirt, the type which is always cool to the touch and slightly damp.

Upon this trail I walked endlessly, never knowing when it would end, yet never tiring and never faltering in my step. For an unknown time I moved from whatever world I had come from to the one of that ahead.

At some point, a gate appeared. Just one, single, white door crossing the trail. There was no fence, and no difference in the path of the flowers. They just continued on and on beyond this single door.

As I touched the door, it opened, outwards.

A forest laid beyond. There was the same trail, this time not straight. Trees grew up higher than what my eye could see, but not high enough to block the rays of light streaming down from the glowing sun above. Tinted green this light was, that forest green only trees of age can make.

The path here was of that same composition as that outside of the door. The feel of the cool ground under my bare feet bade me continue walking forward into the unknown forest.

This was no foreboding grove, but strangely not cheery, devoid of life. No squirrel stirred, no bird chirped, no rodent rooted through the dried pine needles, no insects stirred within the bark of the fallen giants. If they were there, they showed themselves naught.

I walked upon the path. There were trees growing on either side of me, gnarled trees of noble lineage, stretching on for an eternity. The path twisted and turned, and time passed as it had before, in the way which gave no indication of how long I had been in there. The sun never moved. The trees never changed.

Upon this trail, I found a faery ring. Trees, taller than those in the forest around, made a perfect circle. They grew together to form a solid wall, but for the path which ran under the boughs of one of the ancient redwoods.

Inside, there was a stream. It skirted the edge on this ring, never beginning and never ending, its source unknown. In the middle of the circle lay a stretch of dry earth, not unlike that outside, but more magical. In the very center stood a girl, a seeming year or two younger than me, holding a sword.

The girl's hair was a light brown, ending just below the shoulder in small curls. Her face was young and kind, but mysteriously worn. Her clothing consisted of a white tunic over a mid-lenth black skirt with a single word, no, a name embroidered upon its hem in red thread. Pandora. Pandora. Pandora. Endlessly it wound around, never beginning and never ending, its source unknown.

The sword was plain except for the single shining crystal embedded in the hilt. Its similarly sensibly-created leather hilt lay upon the ground. Even so, power radiated from it, the power of the air depended upon by so many, the power of those who would fly away.

Stepping forward, I knew I must face what came ahead. One step, two, three, four, and more brought me to the center to kneel in front of the girl.

Silently, she raised up that great sword and cut through me, and I fell, to the dirt, freed at last.

Extremely short story. It's something I wrote the first day of my senior year in high school. It's... horror-esque, maybe.

He Saw Gods
His skin was soft and wrinkly, lightly clinging to his tiny bones. One eye, his left, was bulbous covered with a milky film. It didn’t see and was dead in his skull. The green eye was squinty and rimmed with red. When dusk set, he’d roam the subways with a candle that lit his jarring steps. It was morbid curiosity that made me follow him. At least at a distance.

Walking along the tracks frightened me but his whispering voice echoing off the walls kept me following. I ignored the smell of rats and the scrabbling paws, even when one scampered over my foot.

Just above the rats noise he said: “The bounce my eyes against my brain.”

The walls would repeat, “My brain. Brain. Brain.”

“But it’s their game. I’ll make the sacrifice for their humor,” he’d continue before the echoes would die, turning into a whispering, cacophonous symphony.

“They swarm in and out of my ears.”

Everything he said amplified and the rats drowned. My ears were throbbing. Why were the echoes louder than what he was saying.

“They’ll reward me when they kill me.”

Each word was a different bell, running out of order. “Eyes. Bounce. Game. Kill. Brain. Ears.” The erratic ringing slashed colors over my eyes, each toll another color. In the midst of swirls, I saw his gods. Bald, shiny heads that each held three silver eyes, large and pupil-less. Gaping smiles ripped open their faces.

They vanished in tight swirls of prism particles when the tracks rattled, knocking my knees together and vibrating my ribs. He was in front of me, the oncoming subway light making his blind eye shine. The subway was behind me.

Time stopped. The subway pressed harshly into my spine, bending me like a bow. The dead eye came to life with the gods leisurely leaning against one another, eyes half lidded sleepily. I wanted to dig my finger into the eye socket, scoop the gods out, and throw them away from me. My back ached but he was too close for me to unfold myself. I debated trying to cut myself in half by bending even farther back. Looking at the gods tied my intestines into knots.

The subway was gone. The rats were gone. Above me, stars glittered and I could see each of the despite the cities fluorescent lights hugging me. My vision was tighter, like what I saw was only half of the picture. I closed my left eye-

Stars, galaxies, the universe.

I closed my right eye and I saw the gods playing jump rope with my intestines.

I wrote this for my English Class' humor writing unit. I hope it's not too long.;)

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Huh? Oh! I must have fallen asleep. History is really boring, you know? I just can’t help drifting off. Anyway, I guess I should introduce myself. My name is Schuyler, and my day hasn’t been going very well. Would you like to hear about it? … Well, that’s just to bad, because you’re going to anyway.

It all started this morning, and similarly to our first meeting, I had just woken up…

My eyes opened slowly, crusty with sleep. I stretched, and got out of bed, headed off to get some breakfast and take a shower. As I stepped onto the top stair to go to the kitchen, I felt the world drop out from under me, and I went soaring down the painfully long flight of stairs, landing squarely on my little cousins transformer, plastic gun side up. I cursed the toy to the heavens, and sprung up before it could cause me more discomfort. It turns out the fall had been caused by one of his toys, as well as finished off by one. I realized the cause by the small plastic skateboard still rolling slowly away from me, the very same one that I knew he was playing with, upstairs, just last night.

After a short inner lament, I entered the kitchen, determined to regain my earlier sunny disposition. There sat the cause of my pain, my accidental tormenter, my tiny cousin. He was sprawled on the floor, causing miniature car crashes with his Tonka-truck and the Barbie convertible that he found at the park last weekend. His adorable giggles erased my feelings of vexation, and left me melting for him, as always.

I pulled myself into a solid being again out of the puddle I had become on the kitchen tiles, and searched through the cabinets for an acceptable cereal. I was met with hoards of brightly colored boxes plastered with artist’s renderings of pink dinosaurs, purple octopi, and jovial bears, all begging me, pleading with their silent, frozen smiles for me to choose them, to make their cereal a part of my balanced breakfast. I slammed the cabinet shut; the pressure was just too much. Instead, I resolved to satiate my growing hunger with an apple.

Apple consumed, I walked into the adjacent bathroom, set the water temperature, and, unclad, stepped into the stream of ice cubes that was the apparent liquid water flying at me, stinging with the terrible power of cold. I leapt through the innocent shower curtain, taking it with me in my desperate and blundering escape from the chill water of the baneful shower. The curtain and I lay, fallen and weak, upon the linoleum. My mind was numbed, my skin was freezer burned, and all I could do was silently anathematize the gelid water that put me in this place. I slowly regained consciousness, feeling, and normal body temperature, and when I felt sufficiently equalized, I got up, said a few words for the fallen shower curtain, and found a towel. After electing to skip the shower, and take one after school, and adequately dressing myself, I politely requested some information of my little cousin.

“Timmy, sweetie, has anyone else taken a shower this morning?”

“Yeah,” he squeaked “Momma was in the shower for a reeeeaaaalllyyy long time before she went t’ work.”

He said this with a grin the size of Albuquerque. So it was my sister. My dirty, rotten, water-stealin’, no good sister, Anneliese. She always stole the good stuff. My clothes, my makeup, my (older) male interests.

I vowed to get my vengeance later, but first, I had to finish my hair, and get myself to school. I whacked a paddle brush at my tangled locks, and grimaced at the thought of ripping the strands out with the miniature torture device. It was at times like this that I wondered why I didn’t just slice it all off. When the hair-ripping ritual was complete, I pulled the whole mess into an elastic, grabbed my book bag, and bounded through the front door, grabbing another apple on my way out.

The day was bright and sunny, and I walked merrily down the sidewalk. I would whistle a little tune to myself, causing a bluebird to land on my shoulder and accompany me in presence and song, if I knew how to whistle, and I was sure that the bird wouldn’t just relieve itself on the back of my t-shirt and fly off, after consuming it’s fair share of my earlobe. But, even without the jaunty song and small animal companionship, the walk itself was pleasant. That is, until, somehow, the earlier mentioned blue bird realized that I had no faith in it, and bombed me out of spite. I didn’t understand it’s frustration, because I hadn’t ever said or done anything to it’s detriment. There is, of course, the possibility that it wasn’t mad at me in particular, but at the world, and I was just it’s unfortunate target.

Because of the bird’s choice, I was forced to turn back, return home, receive a lecture from my mother for still being at home at this hour, change my t-shirt, and set out, once again, on my way to school. This time, I carefully avoided all flying creatures, and quickly scuttled into the foreboding school building.

As you can probably guess, the instructor was not too thrilled with my late arrival, nor was she amused by my altogether real accounting of the mornings events, leading up to my tardy entrance. She banished my to my desk, and sentenced my with a detention that afternoon. She then turned her large, pillow like back to me, and re-commenced her seemingly limitless speech on whatever mundane subject she was attempting to inject into our spongy little brains today.

At this point, we catch up to the present. I am sitting in this terribly wearisome class, my eyelids slipping closed and forced open again every few seconds, my future riddled with monotonous hours of learning, a bleak lunch, and an hour of detention during which I will most likely be forced to perform some redundant task, like clapping erasers or writing a 2 million word essay in the evolutionary chain of llamas. Here I have written the facts, the honest, naked truth, that brought me to this vague, immemorial point in my life. My name is Schuyler, and this is my story.

Hey!Here's something I wrote called Street Lights, I don't know if the title fits,but tell me if it doesn't thanks for reading^^

I looked out my window,and watched as the street lamps lit the street with their dim yellow-orange light. On the street I saw one person,and I know that it was him. Tears filled my eyes,but I wipped them away before they fell. I sighed deeply,and got up off my bed.I had school work to finish,that was already late,and I didn't want the preivous events to ruin my grades even more.

Pulling my chair out, I turned on my iPod,and Love Hurts by Incubus came on. I paused for a moment,and the tears I tried to conceal came back and fell down my face. My iPod seemed to always have the song for the moment on hand, and I hated it for that. Sometimes I wish I could just throw it against the wall, hoping it would break, but then I'd have to get a new one,and that wasn't an option. So I just sat there,and enjured the song, it was a good song, by one of my favorite bands, but I didn't want to listen to it at that moment.I also didn't want to change it, either, which was strange.

I just listened to the beat of the song,and got to my work.About twenty minutes into working, my mother knocked on my door and told me that my friend Alan came to see me. I froze up for a moment.He just left, I wipped my face clean of the tears and said in,a voice as calm as I could get it;"Okay!" Then I heard footsteps go down the steps. Seconds after I heard them coming up. Alan opened the door a crack,and I didn't move.
I juts stood up and faced him, but my head was down."Tomas....I-"I put my hand up."I should be the one saying sorry..."I said looking at him.He came closer leaving only inches between us,and I turned my head.

I kissed him. I never intended to, I just did. I couldn't look at him. I wouldn't look at him.I felt ashamed of myself. Ashamed of what I did, what I wanted to do.Tears started to fall from my eyes again,and streamed down my dark cheeks."Tomas....."He said in a in a soft voice. Slowly my eyes turned to look at him.

Then my heart stopped as he closed the space between us. I felt the soft texture of his lips against mine, and my eyes remained open in shock. A second passed in reality, but in that room time seemed to have stopped. He moved away slightly, and we looked at each other. Time seemed irrevelnt to us now. Minutes, hours, seconds; all of time stopped, even the hands on the clock looked that they have stopped counting the seconds passing.

I smiled at him and said, breaking the air of silence; "Thank you. I love you."His eyes softened a little, and he wrapped his arms around. He then pulled me close to me and kissed me again.

That night he spent the night at my house.I asked my mother,and she told me that it was okay,and Alan's mother let's him do anything as long as he gets good grades and calls first.After everyone was asleep we stayed up in my room,and just sitting there looking outside at the street lamps with the dim yellow-orange light. He then looked at me,and I looked back. I could tell that he cared for me just as much as I cared for him. We kissed again,but this one was more passionate then the last two.Throughout the night we shared our private moment together, with the street lamps as our only witness to what happened.

After,what felt like hours passed;Alan fell alseep,and I held his waist gentley as I watched the street lamps turn off the yellow-orange light. At that moment I saw the only witness to our moment close its eyes to the waking world,and I felt a small comfort in that. However I also knew that the waking world would be more ruthless than the street lamps have.

Ok... I'm going to post a story I wrote a little while back. It's from a series of shorts that I've been writing for a while now.
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Don't Talk to Strangers

It was a summer of blue black nights. For weeks now, every night had been clear and crisp, with a thousand stars glittering over the city of Marseilles. She could hardly remember what the city had looked like during the day, let alone the glory of the sunrise. She knew that they must be beautiful with the weather like this, and it saddened her to think that she could never see them again. But that sadness was brief in comparison to the joy of waking every evening alongside her siblings. She had the brother and sisters she’d always wanted, and she reveled in it.

The festival had come again, the lights of the carnival rides and the showmen eclipsing the natural brilliance of the stars above her head. Tonight she had gone out with her brother, walking amongst the human children with the same excitement as they. Simple pleasures, the stuff childhood was made of, but hers for all eternity. She snuck into the fun house, but was disappointed with the mirrors that would no longer show her distorted reflection. Raphael had told her it wouldn’t be the same, but she didn’t listen. Perhaps she had known that he spoke the truth, and didn’t want to believe it.

Abandoning the fun house, she wondered as she had not for two years what had happened to her parents. It was a night very like this one that she became on of the Papers, leaving them and her old life behind. She missed them, missed having an adult to look up to. She longed for the feeling of being loved when her father tucked her into bed, for the sound of her mother singing her native folk songs as she made breakfast. She even missed being told to eat her vegetables.

They were like the lost boys, with no grown ups to order them around, and never aging past childhood. Yet she knew her siblings missed their parents, even as they knew how she longed for hers. Nancy, oldest of them all, told them that she would be their mother, yet she was still as much a child in mind and temperament as they. The Prince of the city accepted them into his court, honored and adored them, but he was not family. To him, they were a curiosity, an abomination that should never have happened, but one that he hadn’t the heart to destroy.

She looked around, suddenly realizing that she was the only child in sight. On tiptoes, she searched in vain for a sight of the blonde heads of her siblings amongst the towering figures of adults. She was hungry, but wanted to find her sisters. For over an hour she searched, but eventually came to the conclusion that they and Raphael had gone back to the haven of the court, leaving her to hunt alone.

Muttering childish curses under her breath, she wandered slowly over to an out of the way bench. Beginning to sniffle, she curled up upon it and ducked her head, lest her lack of tears – or worse, a blood streaked face – frighten her prey. Soon she felt a weight settle beside her and inwardly smiled. How gullible adult kine were, and how predictable! A pity this one probably wouldn’t live to learn the one lesson all children know.

“Oh, a little one! It is lost, yes? Such a curious thing, to be so young! Do tell Seshie why she cries, ” an oddly accented, feminine voice cooned.

She turned on all of her Charm and rubbed her cheeks as if scrubbing away tears. Looking up at the woman, green eyes suddenly widened in shock. This was no mortal! She fought the immediate urge to run away, but still flinched back when the other tried to pet her hair.

The woman – Seshie? – frowned when she pulled away. The girl sighed, realizing she’d hurt the kindred’s feelings. Watching her silently, she realized what was confusing her. The woman acted like what her mother used to call a “moon child.” But why would anyone embrace someone like that?

Finally she smiled timidly. “Seshie? Is that your name?” At the woman’s enthusiastic nod, she continued, “I was hunting.”

Seshie grinned. “Ah, we perceive it now! The beautiful little doll cries and a foolish mortal comes to comfort the angel. Such planning from one so small! But it is all alone, and much to young..” The woman trailed off, frowning faintly as she again reached out to play with the girl’s hair. “It should come with Seshie. She shall care for her, feed her, comfort her... Vile Asher could not say ‘no’ to such a pretty pet!”

She shook her head, Seshie sounded like she was describing a dog, and who was this Asher? “Thank you kindly, Madam, I’m sure, but I have to return to my family. My sisters are surely worried about me by now,” the child said carefully.

Seshie looked at her with pity in her eyes. “Family? Sisters? But she has no family! Look, dear little one. Look around. Does she see her family anywhere around this disgusting place? Gone, all gone from the dear child. They have left one so innocent, so sweet, behind.”

“Gone? What do you mean, they can’t be gone!” she replied angrily.

“Oh, but they are! Left by itself in this horrid, French city! With its horrid French Prince! They do not want her anymore. Gone. All gone… They have left their doll all alone. Poor little thing,” the woman added, almost as an afterthought.

The youngster was dismayed, staring blankly at the elder kindred and the thinning crowds of kine as she realized that she had not seen any of the other Dollies since entering the fun house. Small shoulders started to shake and a silent, red tear rolled down her cheek.

“Why would they leave me?” she whispered in despair, looking up at Seshie through the red haze of tears.

“What horrid, mean kindred they are,” the woman said softly, pulling the little girl into her arms. “Oh! But do not cry, little cherub! We shall take care of her. Seshie shall be her mother, and never leave you like they did. The cherub will come with Seshie, yes? Where else shall the child go if she stays? With a mortal kine?”

The child whimpered, instincts from another life causing her arms to wrap tightly around the other’s waist. Her tears flowed freely, staining the blouse her face was hidden in as Seshie stroked her hair comfortingly. It was the “cherub” that did it, the pet name that her father had always called her when comforting juvenile hurts. After several moments she nodded, wiping away the last of her tears as she sat up.

“It will like our haven, and insipid Asher shall care for the child much more than he does for poor, wicked Seshie,” the woman murmured to her. “Oh! What is our little doll’s name? Such a handsome face must have a handsome name, we think.” Seshie smiled down at the child – her child – and gently tugged her to her feet.

“Lucina, my name is Lucina,” she replied softly. Following Seshie into the night, she gazed up once more at the blue black sky. Yes, she had lost her siblings, but she had found a new mother – and just maybe, a new home.

My short story

The Ghost of Little Round Top

Emily Marshall, a female historian who was in the process of writing a book on the paranormal activity surrounding the Gettysburg area. The area was supposedly said to be haunted by the ghosts of dead soldiers and other people who were killed in the battle at Little Round Top. She had been invited by a colleague by the name of John Liricks to visit the battle grounds at Little Round Top. He had invited her to help him investigate the rumors of a lone confederate soldier whose ghost haunted the area. It was said that he wandered the once bloody battle field calling out the single letter “M” in the dead of night. When she and John arrived at the site where the ghost was to appear that night, they then set up camp. “So this is Little Round Top,” Emily said, “it has a rather eerie presence about it doesn’t it?”

“So it does” replied John as he looked around at the rigged rocks and the dying trees. As they set up camp Emily heard a noise, “What was that?” she thought as she looked back, “must have been nothing.” she continued with her work continuously looking over her shoulder. Later that night as they both slept, the temperature decreased rather rapidly to a chilling 31°, a very unnatural occurrence on a day in the middle of summer that got close to 85°. Emily couldn’t sleep due to the chilling effect the night was having on her, so she decided to take the camera and look about at the scared battle ground.

As she was walking around it seemed to get incredibly colder, she could see her breath clouding up in front of her. She then saw a lone figure sitting on a rock, “Why John,” she exclaimed “what on earth are you doing out of the tent?” He looked at her and mouthed something to her; she thought he was beckoning her closer. She walked up towards him but he jumped up and stepped back in alarm. “What’s wrong?” she asked as she ventured closer, she saw that his face was pale and eyes wide. She was looking rather inquisitively at him; she stepped closer and then saw that it wasn’t John. She then realized that she was standing in the presence of the young soldier’s ghost.

She was completely aghast at the site of him, more from surprise then horror or disgust. She stepped back as he stepped back, she wanted to run but couldn’t find her legs, she wanted to call out for John but couldn’t find her mouth to speak. He began to approach cautiously looking intently at her putrefied figure; Emily later recalls that it was almost as if he were puzzled that she would see him.

He reached out to touch her, an icy chill shot up through her hand and up her arm as he did so. “Is this the feel of death?” she thought to herself, she was still too frightened to speak. Her eyes were fixed on the poor soul that stood before her. She had finally found her voice and opened her mouth to speak when she heard a twig crack and a few dead leafs shuffling.

Emily turned to see what caused the disruption. The ghost departed, in the midst of vapor, as she did so. She saw it was only John, “What on earth are you doing out so late?” he inquired. “I-I-I..” she stammered “I was following something.” he looked at her puzzled “What,” he asked “could you have possibly been following this late at night.” So only stared blankly at the spot where the ghost had been standing moments before. John shook his head “Come on,” he said “its time to go back to the tents.” She followed continuously looking over her shoulder in hopes the ghost would return.

The next day was hot and muggy. Emily had almost decided that the encounter with the ghost had only been a dream. However when John brought up the fact she was out of her tent last night, she knew it must have actually happened. She decided, for now, that she wouldn’t tell John of her encounter, and leave him to wonder if she had been sleepwalking.

She told John she was going to go out for a walk and check for signs of paranormal activity. All he did was groan and signaled his hand for her to go ahead. She took note of ever object, every leaf, every shrub, and every stone. She made sure she took notice of everything. She wanted some sort of sign that she wasn’t going crazy or that she had just been tired and saw something out of nothing. She found nothing at the spot where she had her encounter with the ghost. Puzzled and distraught she headed back to camp.

Emily decided she should tell John what she saw and what happened. While she was explaining all of the things that happened to her, John stared at her. “Wow,” he said “are you sure you saw what you think you saw?” she looked at him with a look of despair “Alright,” he said in reply to her silent answer “we’ll check it out and do a stakeout.” Emily was happy that he agreed, but was sad that he didn’t actually believe her; however she would have to deal with that later, right now she had to get things together for the stakeout.

That night they waited up to see if the ghost would return. It was growing close to 3am, they were both getting tired, and they hadn’t seen any thing yet except a few bats and other critters. As it was growing close to around 5am Emily was starting to think that it must have just been a dream or some trick of night. “Emily,” said John “it’s almost dawn. I don’t think anything is going to happen.” Emily was about to protest, but then she saw how tired he was. “Alright,” she said after a moment of thought “you go ahead and get some sleep, I’ll stay up.” He was too tired to argue with her and climbed into the tent to sleep.

It started to get cold again; Emily knew what was going to happen next. She stood up with haste, she felt dizzy and fell too the ground. A hand reached down to help her up and she grabbed for it. The same icy chill blasted through her. She was unable to move. Ever thing went black. When she woke she saw a man sitting next to her, he was dressed in full confederate military uniform. She stood up so fast she almost fell to the ground again, “W-who are you?” she asked “are you the man I saw the night before?” she noticed he wasn’t translucent like he was the night before.

He just looked at her and mouthed something to her. “I can’t hear you.” she said looking at him with pity. He put his hand on her shoulder and repeated, this time she heard him clearly, “My name is Jamison,” he said in a thick southern accent “I have been dead for many years, how is it you can hear and see me Ma’am?” she blinked blankly at him, this completely changed everything she had thought of ghosts. Ghosts aren’t supposed to know they are dead. “What do you mean?” she finally stumbled out “Haven’t you been seen before?” he screwed up his face “Well,” he said “only by the dead.”

Emily looked shocked when she heard this. Her head spun she couldn’t think properly, “Wait,” she said carefully “does that mean..?” he nodded “Must be.” he replied she looked around her and realized she wasn’t in the camp anymore. She seemed to be in another, more pleasant, part of the woods. “So I’m dead.”

When morning came John got up and went out to find Emily. She was on the ground. She was cold. She was dead. He let out a gasp and looked around, he thought he saw something peek out from behind a tree it was pearly white, however it disappeared before he could see what it was. Later he states that it must have been the ghost and that the shock of meeting it must have killed Emily.

This is a revision of a story I wrote in 9th grade. I want to know what people think about the first part. Constructive criticism is welcome.

A few summers back, I spent an afternoon on this park bench. A little black dog was playing with a dead bird. Watching felt cruel, like God passively witnessing suffering. Like a cat, yarn twined between his paws, the dog batted the bird.

Quite suddenly, a boy surfaced from behind a tree and moving toward the dog; picked up the bird and pocketed it. He knelt down in the dirt and grass, stroking the mutt. I watched feeling like a voyeur. Eventually the boy grabbed the dog, cradling it against his chest like a football, walking away. Without knowing what I was really doing, I followed the boy, the dog. I kept a safe distance away. I knew my behavior was bordering on stalker. Being discovered would only add to this already awkward situation. Every so often, this boy would stoop down, dog still in tow, and examine the ground. Scavenged little flowers, coins, fallen buttons and zippers were pocketed, just as he had done with the bird.

A library. seemingly the final destination for mysterious trench coat boy. Fourth grade was the last time I was anywhere near this library. Reading was instant popularity Kryptonite at age in fourth grade. Avoiding the library at all costs was my only solution. Popularity means something when you are a 10-year-old girl in Catholic school. Reminiscing distracted my quest to trail this boy. It became apparent that he'd made his way into the library while my focus was elsewhere.

My mind had been made up without any real contemplation. Tomorrow, I would see this boy again. Noon, I was on that bench going through the motions of studying the daily newspaper, waiting on the boy. No one else was in the park. I asked myself, 'Why would he be here? Does e not have a life, prior engagements?' I stopped when I realized I was alone, talking to myself on a park bench. Not the most appealing light for someone to see another person in.

I began to feel as though I imagined this boy. Seeing him would validate my sanity, but he was nowhere. I couldn't be sure I was alright if he was not around. Rustling noises ensued, and just as phantasmically as the previous afternoon, the boy appeared. He flung himself from the lowest branches of the tree. What a beautiful sight it was. Black trench, hair, he could easily blend in with the night. A sliver of blue, his irises, broke up the dark wash. I then wondered if the bird was still in the trench pocket. Rather than ask him, I decided another round of stalking was best.

The boy hurled himself away from the tree, walking drunkenly in te same direction as the day before. I nearly flat tired myself, tripping on my ballet flats, desperately trying to catch up to the boy.

The Library. We meet again. I saw him enter then he was out within minutes, a tower of various books crowding his arms. He set them down at the foot of the library stairs, then made his way to the side alley. I craned my neck to see a Radio Flyer filled with bags of toys. 'Ah, Santa. It is all clear now,' I thought to myself. I felt like diving, right into those toys. To be four again, without the worry of popularity, and mysterious boys with mesmerizing eyes... I thought about traipsing up to this boy, and asking if he would have a tea party with me. That of course would not help my case if he knew I was stalking him. Waved the thought away. The boy began pulling the wagon along the sidewalk, wit the books now added to the toy heap. I saw a book about dogs on the top. Where was his dog?

Brownstone, towering, decrepit described the red wagon's delivery point. A window boarded up here and there, broken beer bottles scattered around. He rolled that wagon up a ramp, knocked on the big rusty door, and disappeared inside the brownstone. An elderly woman, blue hair pearls and all, let him in. I crept to the side of the building, finding a window to peak into.

Rows of children, various ages, sizes, races, clothing preferences, sat cross-legged on a threadbare beige carpet. They faced the boy, seated in a small yellow chair, children's book in hand. Eager faces peered up at him. I found myself whispering along to the books he read aloud. Once again, before life was complicated by peer pressure and the need to fit in. Every ounce of my strength was required to keep me from storming the building and joining them.

When the boy left, I decided to do some recon. I knocked on the rusted door. Te old woman appeared. "Yes?"
"Who was that boy?"
"Colin. Friend of our dear Colin?"
"No. Why was he here?"
"He reads to the children. Little angel."
"Is this a school?"
"School? No, no! Orphanage, yes. Colin lived here."
"Oh. I see. Thank you."
"Oh,Yes. Right then."

I craved more. Puzzle pieces were appearing, fashioning themselves into a whole. I knew more about him. Not enough, but more.

This is a battle scene in a story of mine have yet to fully write down so I thought I might work out the kinks and such here. Feedback of all kinds is welcomed ^3^

Salvanis turned his head from Enin to the prince and back again. The young ruler was just as worried about Enin as Salvanis was. This was not fair. Enin had proved that she meant no harm towards the prince and would forever stand by his side if he so wished. But the king, thirsty for some battle, had pitted Enin against the dark newcomer. The newcomer, without question, was the darkness the Oracle had said would bring nothing but pain to the prince's life. And that was what the newcomer was now hurting the prince by planning a slow demise for Enin. It was hard to watch, Salvanis knew that if Enin was about to be killed, he would jump in the ring and help her, even if that mean exile. Enin was a wonder in Salvanis' eyes. She had very different views on the world and how she gathered her powers was still fascinating to Salvanis. But the battle was about to begin now. Both the prince and Salvanis held their breath.

"Begin!" yelled the guard. The newcomer instantly pulled seven shades from the world beyond and threw them at Enin. She dodged the first three, but a fourth shade sneaked up behind her and lunged. A scream of pain rang through the arena. Slavanis was at the railing, worry almost leaking out of his pale blue glowing eyes. Enin got up back to her feet as quickly as she could. She had one hand over her left eye and blood flowed freely from the wound. Salvanis could only imagine the pain she was hiding from everyone watching the fight. She pulled a pinch of herbs from the pouch she always had on her person and popped them into her mouth. She concentrated her power and her right hand burst into blue flame. Now the shades came back for her. This time, Enin hit the shades with her fire, engulfing them in a beautiful blue wave of heat. When the fire disappeared a few seconds later, so did the shade. The newcomer did not summon more shades to replace the ones he had lost like Salvanis had thought he would. Maybe he was not all that bad.

The newcomer hit Enin hard again. His power was out of Enin's range. His knowledge of black magic was much much darker than Enin's and her alchemy was not helping her right now. But then Enin closed her right eye in concentration and let her left hand fall from her wounded eye. The prince got up from his seat. The shade had gouged Enin's entire left eye out and it was not a pretty sight. Then Enin open her right eye, and she did something Salvanis thought was not possible. Enin had grown herself a new left eye from the material from the world beyond when she had cast the spell that allowed her to see into the world beyond.

Enin stood up strait and face her opponent. She popped another mouthful of herbs into her mouth and her arms burst into blue flames. Along with the fire, lightning crackled on her fingertips. With newfound power, Enin lunged at the newcomer. He was caught utterly of guard. Enin threw flaming balls of lightning at both the newcomer and seemingly random spots all around the arena. The newcomer seemed to be defenseless now, and Salvanis wondered why.

It was only a few more moments until Enin had the newcomer in a death grip. His robes were badly singed at the tips and the fire was slowly creeping upwards. Enin had his up against the wall of the arena, two feet off the ground. Enin's fire ball still attacked random places in the arena and she held the newcomer in place. Her grip got tighter and tighter. Salvanis knew that Enin would not kill the newcomer unless she had no other choice. She was not one to kill in cold blood.

After another minute of torture, the newcomer surrendered. Enin let him down without worrying whether his landing was soft or not. She back away form him and glared with utmost hate at the king. Salvanis knew that she had not, and did not like this situation. Both the prince and Salvanis went down to her. As Salvanis walked towards her, Enin began to collapse. Salvanis caught her before she could hit the ground. He cared more for Enin than the law would have permitted, but love was not something the law could control.

*Some disturbing content* (No sex, gore or language)

I've been working on this one for a while. It still needs quite a lot of polish. Let me know what you think.

CHARITY'S GARDEN

"Charity?" my mother grabbed my arm with her cold hand.

"Ma'am?" I answered, watching the tears roll down her face and land in her lap. Her dress was soaked and stained with her grief.

"Don't go out of the garden," she whispered to me, her puffy face distorting with an oncoming sob. She hung her head down over her lap and continued her crying.

"Yes, ma'am," I answered dutifully.

With her cold hand gone from my arm I crept through the rest of the solemn house, listening to the sounds of grief spilling from every room. I walked through the sunny kitchen and thought how old it felt that the kitchen seemed cheerful while the rest of the house grieved.

I peered out the top of the kitchen door out to the garden. With a great breath, I swung open the heavy door and stepped out in to the bright sunlight.I danced down the old stone steps, singing Little Kitty Popcorn. At the bottom step I stopped and looked around my family's garden.

The warm afternoon sun poured down on my hair. The garden lay before me like a treasure trove waiting to be explored. I walked through the tiled paths, scuffing my high button boots. I strolled to my favorite place in the garden, an old stone bench planted in a bed of pink phlox.

I smoothed my fussy dress and plunked down on the bench. Its rough surface was sun warmed and comfortable.

I looked out across the garden, my eyes catching on bright flowers, and searched for the small bed of herbs. With my eyes on the herbs, I could clearly smell their fragrances. Mint, lemon balm and rosemary intermingled and created a fresh, earthy scent.

The shady fruit trees stood at the back of the garden. The pear and cherry blossoms were breathtaking. In the summer the trees would grow heavy with fruit and we would have sour cherry pies.

The flowers all around me overwhelmed my eyes. Roses of varying colors sprung from every bed. My mother loved roses and grew them incessantly. The phlox I was surrounded by drew butterflies and bees. They flitted and buzzed around my head.

I sat back against the rough bench and closed my eyes. I focused and concentrate. My brows knitted and the blood drained away from my mouth. I concentrated harder.
I shivered despite the spring heat. All the fine hair on my arms stood straight up and I felt a cold wind sweep across my body.

I opened my eyes to another world. Though I knew it was the garden I had skipped through earlier, everything had changed. I had seen through the pretty reality to a place that existed beneath it: a place I knew very well.

The afternoon shadows had grown longer, darker, and malevolent. The sky above me clouded and the blue was shot through with a sickly green. The enchanting garden had transformed into a court of air and darkness.

The winding paths that I strolled down had become a hellish labyrinth, trapping anyone who dared trespass. The jasmine and creeper vines created gnarled snares and traps for the unwitting.

The tiny flying insects took on a menacing air. Their innocent fluttering was now threatening and hateful.

The thistle along the back wall of the garden lengthened its thorns into foreboding spikes, prohibiting outsiders to cross the wall. The roses lost their romantic charm and became bits of colored rags torn from some victims clothing by the unrelenting thorns.
The herbs in their neat rows grew wild and fierce. Their once soothing scents overwhelmed the air and stirred up a sickening miasma. The fruit trees bore, not spring flowers, but the overripe fruit of late summer. Rotten pears fell from the trees and split, spilling their fetid stench.

Near the entrance to the cellar, the cook's mangy cat crept along the ground with a mouse clutched in its jaws. The pitiful rodent pleaded in squeals and shrieks, but there would be no mercy for the poor creature in this place. The cat, uninterested in the mouse's struggle, merely tightened its jaws and silenced the feeble thing.

The house behind me grew dilapidated and seemed absent. The kitchen window, which had once been lit by the afternoon sun, was now dark and cracked. It did not seem the sunny bustling kitchen where I would retreat from my mother.

The world around, that most saw, was gone. It had been replaced with a kingdom of horrors.

What most girls would have run from, I embraced. I skipped down the twisted paths reveling in the strange, new world. I loved this realm, this place of demented fantasy. It was a perverted reality that only I could see. My cruel little duchy where nightmares cavorted and shadows sang to me.

As I sat down in the middle of one path, I crushed a beetle with my boot. I squealed with delight at this tiny meaningless sacrifice. I sat there and gloried in the horror and sickness of this place. My thoughts wandered to the first time the garden had changed for me.

My parents had been overjoyed by the birth of a son. Even at nine, I saw that a male heir was far more precious than any girl. They celebrated his birth with luxuries rarely wasted on me. My mother had no other children after me and they had begun to think there would be no more. So, my brother was a blessing, a gift from God.

I snuck into the nursery almost every night and watched my brother sleep. He lay in his bassinet by the window and the moon lit him for me. His tiny mouth would open and close like a fish in a tank. His fists balled and tightened as if he were seeking something that he couldn't reach. He slept so soundly there by the window.

One morning my mother called me to her.

"Charity," she said, "your father and I have come to a decision about your education. You have run wild far too long. Your tutor is dismayed by the lack of progress you are making and recommended we send you to school. We have decided that this is the best solution. You are to pack your things and tomorrow you will be sent to school."
Her words all came out in a rush, as if she was afraid she wouldn't be able to say them.
"Yes, ma'am" I said bowing my head in deference. I walked to my room and allowed my things to be packed. I waited all afternoon for the orange sunset and the night that followed it.

In the early hours of the next day, well before the sun arose, I slipped into my brother's room. I crept to the window. The moon was full and his face was perfectly illuminated. I bent down and kissed his pale forehead. I picked up the cushion I had embroidered to welcome him and laid it over his pale face.

"Charity, you mother wants you, " a voice intruded into my memory.

"Yes, I'll be there, " I called back.

I turned back to the depraved world I called up. I surveyed its dark delights one more time.

I closed my eyes and willed reality back to the garden. When I looked again, all is as it was before. The roses, herbs, and thistles were just plants. The butterflies and bees once again hunted merrily for nectar.

I smoothed my pinafore and made sure my hair was in place before I strolled to the kitchen door.

As I reached the steps I turned and looked behind me. My blue eyes sparkled and my face split with a wide smile. I would not be leaving

I like your story, Purple!
I like you you turned something that most people would fine scary in a joy :3

Here is a little tidbit of a story idea that I have, quite sure it won't grow to anything bigger, but wasts the harm of posting it?


Cradled Illusions.

"You did it again." he said, snickering. "Shut up!" I hissed at him. Every time he said that, I did it again. "But it's so cool! Mar, you've got super powers! Why are you so intent on not using them when you've wanted them for your entire life?!" he asked. He had a point. I had wanted powers for as long as I could remember, but it was so strange to have them now! "Don't call me Mar, Gabriel." I hissed at him again, my mood was hopping up and down thanks to my monthlies. Gabriel rolled his eyes. "But Marina sounds so, so..." he flailed his arms, "It just sounds so....." he sighed, unable to find a word that fit. It was my turn to roll my eyes. "Look Gabriel, whatever you have against my name is your own problem, so stop calling me Mar!" My mood jumped again. This was getting annoying. "Can you at least do it again?" Gabriel asked. I groaned. "It's not that special... Not even real..." I mumbled. Gabriel lifted my chin up so I was looking at him. "I don't care whether it's "real" or not. Marina, you've got something everyone else can only dream for. Even if it's not "solid", it's very very real. And if you don't get a hang of it soon, everyone will see what you see." again, he had a point. I smiled. I had only known Gabriel for a few days, and yet he was the best friend any person could have. He always found a way to make me smile and see the brighter side of things. Maybe that was his power. "Okay fine... But what to show? And how?" I wondered. Every time I did this before, it was by accident, usually when I started to daydream. I had no idea how to use my power when I wanted to. Gabriel dropped his hand from my chin and put it on his own. "Hrm.... Well, you could show me what you were seeing earlier, just clearer." he said with a smile. I went red. I did not want to show Gabriel that daydream. Mostly because it involved him and me. Together... I shook my head, hopefully he did not see that. "Do you really like me that much already?" he asked playfully. I blushed deeper. He had seen it. But if he had seen it, enough so that he could really tell what was going on, maybe concentrating on the image was how I conjured them. I tried that out. I imaged a triple-scooped mint-chocolate-chip ice cream cone with chocolate syrup over the top. Slowly, but surely, the ice cream cone appeared in the air in front of me. I reached out to touch it, and it vanished. "You lost your concentration." Gabriel noted. I looked up at him. I had not thought of this before, but was it possible that Gabriel had known that I had this power before we met? Was it possible that he was sent here to train me for some secret service? Or was he here to see if I was useful or not and if not to dispose of me? "One and two are correct. Three is completely and utterly out of the question." I heard Gabriel say. "You can read my mind?!" I gasped. He shook his head. "You pictured the thoughts in your mind as words on paper. I saw them." Gabriel gestured to the empty space in front of me. I fell down into the couch behind me. "What the hell is going on Gabriel?" I asked, looking up at him. He sat beside me. "A lot of things, Marina. A whole crap load of things..."

"MARINA!" I was called. Did it have to be now? I was just starting to get a grip on how all this shit started. I grumbled to myself. My thoughts shimmered and disappeared from sight. I was trying really hard to make my illusions real, solid. Writing my thoughts on my imaginary paper was helping me on that goal. "MARINA! GET DOWN HERE RIGHT NOW!" the manager yelled again. I groaned. "What is it this time?" I called, headed down from my office slash room to the main floor. The manager was tapping his foot impatiently. "We have a struggler." he stated simply and began to walk away. I sighed. I hated strugglers.

"I'll never give in to your fake paradise!" she yelled at me. I really was trying to help her. We lived in a harsh world and people like this young woman were not tolerated after a point. She was very very close to that point. "Look, honey," I started, leaning in closer to her. "I can either give you a paradise illusion, or a nightmare beyond your wildest fears, 'kay?" I stated, growing tired of her complaining. Everyone had to go through something like this at least once in their life. Life was no longer peaches and cream once you turned eighteen. In fact life was hell on earth after eighteen. I should know. The girl spit on my eye. "Your nothing but a freak of nature with no real power. Just a pretty picture." she spat. That pushed me over the line. "You asked." I said, as calmly as I could manage in this state of rage.

The screams were deafening, but it was her own fault. Knowing I too would scream if I allowed myself to see my own nightmares, I waited for the girl to break. I hated taking this path, but if they did not take my paradise, this was what they got. And I even told them that! Paradise or nightmare? Now-a-days seventy percent of the people I put place in front of turned down paradise. The screams turned to pleads. I slowly let the nightmares fade from the girl's sight. Two guards came in then to take her to where she could recover and think over what she had done in the past.

I was back up in my room now. I loved my room. I was dark and quiet and no one dared come in without knocking. For good reason too. A few people that worked here now had suffered my living nightmare when they first showed up. And for those who did not experience it first hand got enough info from the screams. I hated being the nightmare of the company, but that was the only way I could be safe from the outside. Plus it was the only way I could see Gabriel. God I missed him so much. Like how I had thought so long ago, Gabriel's power was seeing the best in things. With that sight on side, he could cheer up the most depressed person in the world. He had the job as me, but he worked at a different company building. All the way in England.

"Miss, Coldcover?" I heard a deep voice from behind my door. "What?" I snapped. No one ever saw me in a good mood unless Gabriel was here. "Mr. Alarik is here." the man behind the door said, warily. I literally jumped up form my seat. "Where is he?!" I exclaimed, opening the door. The man behind the door almost fell over backwards. "In the m-main office." he stammered. "Thank you." I said, closing the door behind me and heading downstairs.

I had to wait for whatever was going on in the main office to be done before I could see Gabriel. I tapped my foot, impatient. It had been two years since I had seen Gabriel and we had very little time to talk to one another. The door opened and the blond boy who mean the world to me walked out. He smiled his smile and walked to two steps over to me. "Hey, Mar." he said. I rolled my eyes. "How many times to I have to tell you not to call me Mar, Gabriel?" I asked. There was silence for a moment and then we embraced. I inhaled his sent, it had been so long since I had been this close to him.

I lead him up to my office and let him settle down. "Coffee?" I asked, placing the milk in the microwave. "Nah, I'm good." Gabriel said, falling down on the couch. I sat next to him on the little space left on the couch. "So, what brings you back?" I asked, knowing it was probably business. "Oh nothing special. I just got promoted to manager of this company building." he said, as if it were nothing. I lit up. "Really?!" I exclaimed. Gabriel nodded. I fell on top of him in a hug. "My boss or not, this is a dream come true." I said, refusing to let go. Gabriel chuckled and patted my head, like he always did. "Same here, love. Same here." he said, his brown eyes shining.

@Closet Shadow: I really love the content here and I think you have a great sense for character development, but I wondered if maybe you should think about reformatting the prologue (beginning bit). It's a little daunting to follow, with no paragraph breaks and more than one voice.

But I thought it was a great story with definite potential.

To Purple: Thanks.
And as I said before, I don't really think I'll do much more with this story other than daydream.
It's sort of based on the TV series Heroes.
I take that back, it based a lot on Heroes X3
In fact, all the Heroes characters (most of them anyway) are in it >3>

More tidbits~

"Freaking fairies." Thane mumbled. Those three fairies had been annoying him for at least a week now, and it was getting old. They wanted Thane to follow them to someplace out of town, which Thane was wary of. "Morning!" said a high-pitched voice that put Thane off. "Go away!" he snapped at the youngest looking fairy. "You really need to cheer up." said the second youngest. "You're the ones putting me in this mood." Thane grumbled, the second fairy was the plump one and Thane had a small room. There was a light hand on his shoulder. "We'd stop if you came with us. Where we're going we won't be able to bother you unless we're told to." said the oldest. She was the one that Thane minded the least.

Thane sighed. "Where are we going?" he gave in. He was never going to get these fairies off his back unless he went with them. The youngest fairy giggled. "To our master's dwelling." she stated. "Care to explain?" Thane asked, a sharp edge to his voice. The eldest fairy came around and looked him in the eye. Her eyes where charcoal black. "Our master has wanted to meet you for a long while now. But his business has kept him away. We thought to do him a favor and bring you to him." she said in a soft, succubus-like voice. Thane shook his head. This was madness.

It was a long trek out of town. The two younger fairies flitted farther down the road then their sister. Thane walked in silence, brooding. He was much against this, but all the other options were just as bad.

After a while, a large mansion came into view and the three fairies glided over to it. The younger ones opened the front doors while the eldest lead Thane inside. It was a dimly lit place, and Thane could barely make out the figure standing at the other end of the hall. "Where have you three been?" asked the figure. By the sound of the voice, it was a man. The three fairies flew over and landed in order, oldest to youngest, beside their master and bowed. "We've been out. You might thank us." they all said at once. The man turned around to look at Thane.

"Ess." the man said, a small amount of anger filtering into his voice. "Yes master?" said the oldest fairy. At least now Thane knew her name. "Whose idea was this?" he asked, still looking at Thane. "You are not pleased?" asked the youngest. "I did not address you En." he said sternly. The young fairy bowed her head. "Ess?" he asked again. The older fairy looked down. "Twas my idea, master. I thought you might enjoy the company..." she said. The plump fairy crossed her arms. "Oh c'mon Ess," she said. "You know thats not the whole reason why he brought him here." she finished in a teasing voice. "Thats enough, Eye." said the man once again. "I'll talk this over with you three later, but now I have to tend to our guest." he said, emphasizing the word guest.

After a talk of apology, the man gave Thane a map of the area, so he can find his way home. Thane left, no completely confused. Once the man showed Thane out, he closed the door. Curious, Thane pressed his ear up against the door to see if he could hear anything. "You three are going to be the death of me." the man said, the anger slightly gone from his voice. "But we can't be the death of you, master. Only you can." one fairy said. "Don't play smart with me, Eye." the man said again. "Now Ess, what realy was the reason for you bringing Thane to me?" he asked. There was silence for a minute. "Your journals said that you...." Ess stopped. "Ess! How many times have I told you NOT to read my journals?! I don't care if you are the oldest of your sisters, that doe snot give you reason to read my things!" the man burst out, obviously having lost his temper now. Thane thought that a good time to go.

>_>
<_<

Me is posting again...
I hope thats okay here >3>

Cornenbrow's Magic Academy

I sat and waited. Everyone around me was talking and muttering about what the proof tests would be. Of course, if anyone here was smart enough, they would know that proof tests were basically reviews. Pick a basic, simple, and easy spell, enchantment, or whatever and cast it appropriately. But of course, more than half the student population thought that to prove one's worth, one must know complicated and hard spells. The simple stuff was what was really important. The complex stuff was more or less extra topping.

"Students!" called one of the teachers, Madame Coldcover. She had taught most of my classes. "We shall now commence the proof tests. When called, those who majored in Blood Magic studies, please step to the stage." Madame Coldcover instructed. I smiled, I had put most of her attention towards blood magic.

"Clair Foreverblack." Madame Coldcover called. My best friend was called to the stage first. Clair did not get up at first, but slowly walked up to the stage. It was respectful to kneel and kiss Madame Coldcover on the hand when in a situation like this. The proof test was no doubt to cast a spell of sorts upon the ring Madame Coldcover always wore upon her right ring finger. But, of course, I could be wrong. Or I could have been one of those students that paid attention in class.

Clair knelt and kissed Madame Coldcover's ring and was then sent back to her seat. Clair's face was full of anticipation. No one was told they passed the proof test until everyone took it. And not everyone past, of course.

About an hour went by before I, last in this skill set, was called to the stage. "Cytherea BloodMoon." called Madame Coldcover. I stood, took a breath and approached the stage. Everyone had their eyes on me. It was unsettling, but I did her best to ignore them. I came onto the stage, swept my cape out of the way, knelt, and placed a kiss spell upon Madame Coldcover's ring. Within the kiss spell, I had breathed my name and my wish to graduate. I did not know whether or not this was how to pass the test, but kiss spells were a simple and easy way to pass information from one body to another without having to say anything at all.

Then the leading paladin, Major Skybright, stepped to the stage. "Those who have studied the way of the paladin, and the light that follows, step up to the stage when called to preform the proof test." he called, his voice deep. He discreetly stated his dislike for blood magic as he said "and the light that follows" for blood magic was a very dark magic, and used against paladins.

"Clear Skybright?" called Major Skybright. Typical, calling forth his own son first. I thought to myself. I never liked the Skybrights, they were just to full of themselves for my taste. Clear stepped up to the stage, his white armor one size to big. Major Skybright held up an empty sheath. Clear hesitated for a second, then placed his hand in the air where the hilt of a sword might have been in the sheath. He concentrated his "pure magic" and drew forth a sword of light. He held it up for all to see. I rolled my eyes.

The rest of the paladins did more or less the same thing. Well, a few of them failed, but whatever. Then the pale-skinned succubus by the name of Forever stepped up onto the stage. He was pure-blooded succubus, which made him simply irresistible. I had to try really hard not to stare. "All those who majored in the teachings of passion, fire, and wealth step forth for your proof tests as you are called, please?" he asked in a silk voice. I wondered how is position at the academy worked. Full-blooded male succubi were quite rare, and very dangerous.

There was only one student left "Salvanis Thane?" Forever called. A tall dark-haired man stepped up onto the stage. Salvanis looked through the audience, though he kept his eyes mostly on the students. I wondered what he was looking for, this was not what the other students had done. Then his amber-gold eyes met mine. I tried with no avail to look away. I was stuck there, unable to move. He gave me a playful smirk and then looked back to Forever. Forever nodded, and the two of them left the sage together.

"The names of those of who have graduated will be announced in one hour." Called the principle of Cornenbrow's magic academy. Everyone exited their seats and wondered around the courtyard, waiting. I found myself staring at Salvanis form time to time. I tried to shake myself out of it, but could not. He must have cast some sort of spell on me for his proof test. "Ya alright?" I heard Clair's cheery voice asked from behind me. I turned to look at my roommate. "Eh, I dunno..." I said, looking at Salvanis over my shoulder. "Do you know what blood Slavanis has?" I asked Clair. Clair had only studied blood magic, and knew more than I did. Clair looked over my shoulder to the red and black garbed man just my age. "There's some vampire, a bit of dragon, obviously human, and succubi..." Clair said in her see-everything-as-something-normal voice. I took what she said into account. Succubi. That would make sense... I thought, turning back to look at him once more.

"Will all the students return to their respective seats, please?" called the principle from the stage. I tore my eyes from Salvanis and returned to my seat. All three teachers stood up on stage in a line behind the principle. Madame Coldcover and Major Skybright were separated by Forever, which was probably best. Madame Coldcover and Major Skybright would have torn each other's eyes out if they stood next to one another. "When called, come up to the stage." said the principle, adjusting his glasses and looking down at a scroll of paper.

"Clear Skybright?" called the principle. Of course Clear was going to pass graduation, he was the "perfect" student. Clear stepped up tot he stage. His father handed him a scroll and a sword. "With these may you live by the pat of light as an honorary paladin." Major Skybright said, obviously too proud of his son.

A few other students were called before me, Clair being one of them. Madame Coldcover had given her a scroll and a staff made out of red crystalline fairywood. "Cytherea BloodMoon?" the principle called. I stood and walked up to the stage. Madame Coldcover stood waiting for me with a smile on her face. I knelt and kissed her ring, breathing a "thank you" in a kiss spell before I rose. Madame Coldcover nodded to me, showing she got my message and handed me a scroll. "This scroll shows, in writing, that you passed graduation," she started. Then, with a simple transport spell, Madame Coldcover brought a small chest to her hands. "And may these help you further your power within what you have studied." she said, handing me the chest. I took it, and returned to my seat with a smile.

Salvanis was called up much later. He stepped up to the stage and stood by Forever. Forever handed him a scroll and a chest as well, and then gave Madame Coldcover a smile. Madame Coldcover's eyes went strait to me as Salvanis walked back to his seat. I wondered that was wrong.

After everyone who graduated was given their scrolls and their gifts, the principle stepped back to the stage. "Upon your scrolls are the towers you are now to live in. Each and everyone of you that has graduated will serve seven years within your tower. Congratulations!" he said, in his normal full-hearted voice. Everyone stood and cheered.

Here's one

--

A thin layer of darken clouds hid away the crimson moon. A heavy mist has fallen over the town and many of its people know what is to come. A man in a long coat and hat seems to materialize at the town's gate. The guard shook with fear, but all the man asked was "May I come through?" Without a moment's hesitation the guard quickly opened the gate, more concerned with his own life than the town's people. The man thanked him and walked pass the gates, his coat flowing in the wind. As the unknown man disappears into the mist the guard notice a sudden shock of pain and as he dropped his blood spilled onto the hard dirt. His throat had been slit.The leader of the town greeted him with a fake smile, hoping he would only take his offering and leave. The man said nothing. The leader of the town felt uneasy and quickly gave hi. The his offering, a young frighten maiden. The man examined her slowly and in a flash she fell. Her body dried up and his thirst gone. The man had gotten his offering and was gone, but to come back on another night of a crimson moon.

Goodbyes

A young woman stood in the rain, her hands forming the shape of a cup. Rain filled the cup-like shape. The water was overflowing but she didn't seem to care. Looking up through her eyelashes, appearing to be staring at a man. He was equally as young as she was and had a sympathetic look on his face, as he returned her look. Then he turned around, away from her. Suddenly the girl's hands parted, the water splashing to the ground. A sigh escaped her lips, and a sad smile replaced the expression of hope. The sliver of hope that maybe, just maybe he would reconsider. But even that tiny sliver was gone now. Now, she was empty. Without hope, without love. Lifting her head, the smile turned slightly happy. It lit up her face. The smile was filled with wishes for the man. Different hopes. Hopes that he would live without her the way she would try to live without him. Hopes that he would find another woman, one that would stand in sunny weather. They spoke at the same time,
"So this is goodbye then."

Heh, this may be a topic where I can, uh, write some random story thoughts in my head. I call them hardscibbles, because they seem like complete randomness. Hardscibbles. Heh. I'll do that later.