Let's write short stories to help our minds expand our imaginations. This will also help inspire people to write or give ideas to those who want to write great stories. :)

A long, long time ago, there lives a gallant know who longed for the Princess with exclusive beauty. She was like all the other princesses; cute, lovely, and timid except... she charmed people to follow every whim she wishes. As they bowed to every command she makes, she created a delusional fortress. The gallant knight was also fooled by her beauty and became the Princess's servant. He would do anything just to be by her side; execute those who oppose her and and even kiss her foot. The once called "Gallant" Knight lost his innocence by staining his honor with the blood of innocent families, strolling on bloody piled bodies with his Princess, and bathing in pain of the land. They spent their lives forever, eternally drowning themselves in what they call, "Heaven's Bleach."

damn. that really good. im a writer too. on chapter 42 of the 2nd book of the series

Pointy toed heels clicked from the hallways and beyond the thick sliding doors.

"Hell," I stated simply to the elevator attendant.


I stared straight ahead as the compartment complied with gravity and lowered us down.
I breathed in and out deeply- peacefully, as if the scent of something wonderful surrounded me. I played with my hair and straightened out my pencil skirt in a care-free motion.
As though I joyfully had all the time in the world.
As though I wasn't currently on a B line to Satan's Crypt.

After a minute or two, I questioned the elevator's continuous drift without pause for new passengers.

"I must be the only one having a bad day," I stated aloud, without remorse or resentment. It was only an observation.

"It's not just you," the attendant kindly assured me. The handsome man was never usually the one to make conversation, so his inclusion to my thoughts, even if spoken aloud, was quite a rarity.

"There were others this morning," he said, giving a most charming and flawless smile; the kind that made the giver's eyes shine and the atmosphere even more relaxed than before.

"Oh my. So early?" I questioned with genuine pity but nothing more. They had already reached their destination, so there was no point lingering on it with any extra emotion.

"Yes," he stated simply as he turned back around, "Some have had their days ruined before they had even left out the door..."

"Hmm," I noised in thoughtfulness and acceptance.
Oh well.
These things do happen.


The elevator jolted with enough suddenness I had to brace myself with the handle bars along the walls.

"Have we reached the destination already?" I asked the attendant, unsure of the minutes that had passed by, but was sure it should have taken longer.

The majority of the man's back faced me, but I could still see his head tilted downward, just enough for his hair to mask his eyes.

"Lucifer?" I prodded.


The lightness from his earlier tone was taken from his voice when he asked...

"Are you sure about this?"

I remained quiet despite his inquiry. Unsure of what to make of his doubt- this hesitation, my tongue was robbed from me.
I needed more.
What did he mean?
Was there something wrong?
Why stop now?

The man turned to me this time before speaking, the sparkle devoid from his desolate eyes.

"You don't seem to be the type...," he continued, seemingly with a hint of confusion behind his words. "I don't believe this to be your destination point. If not ever, then not quite yet."

"Oh?"

"Yes. You're not entirely there yet. You’re not broken or defeated; you’re not caked in lies or perspiring fumes of deceit; and you are neither any bastard child of Ignorance, Pride, Envy, Lust, Gluttony, Greed, Apathy, or Wrath."

I took in his words, briefly drifting my eyes to the upward right corner to contemplate before returning my attentions to him.

"As I said before, I've just had a bad day," I replied giving an almost shrug.

The man frowned at my response.

"Perhaps you should try again..."

Before I could ponder on his words’ meaning, his back was once more facing me and the elevator gave another jolt; this time confronting gravity with an upward push.

Staring at the man's back, a spotless ebony coat with a shy gleam at the wrists, hinting gold cufflinks, I remember a forgotten fact in ancient Bible study.


Lucifer was once too an angel.

>>3 goddang Magnolia that was awesome! the last line was a killer i tell you, a killer!! I couldn't find an appropriate thread so I chose this. Just wanted to post the intro of a range of 'a-sort-of-short-story-but-more-like-a-(fictional)-diary'. This is the first entry so here we go!
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These dreams that I’ve been having lately, seem so real now. They make so much sense and true to what they are. I’m not sure when they occur or how recent it they are, but I find myself telling the last flickering moments of a candle to die. And I keep telling it to die until its remaining seconds end in a pool of wax, sad wax.
To be honest, if I hate something I hate it with a passion, a great one. That’s not to say I’m a very hateful person. I give my love and acquaintance where it is due. But I am that judge, my morals are applied to people and not me, which is why many people call me immoral. However those who receive my kindness should be happy and feel special.
Hello, my name is Sara, but it is also Suzan. I am the one with two faces.
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Adults never believe children when they say they're bored. I'm not sure what age you have to be before you're allowed to be bored, but I do know that at ten I hadn't reached it.

So, although no one would believe me, I stared blankly at the words swimming before my eyes and realized that I was in fact bored, catching snatches of a story the same as all the others. A warm hand brushed my shoulder, and a gentle strain of rose oil and peppermint wafted over me. Strands of wavy blonde hair touched my cheek and I looked up, smiling in response to my mother’s sunny expression. My grin faltered as I looked at her, noticing the shadow of a worry line forming between her careful brows.

She gently lifted the book from my hands, placing it on the table and turning me to her. She told me how something came up suddenly. Her and father would be leaving for a quick trip down the hill, but I shouldn't worry, because they'd be back before sundown.

My mother walked me to the door. My father came into the room, ruffling my hair with a fond hand and stern expression as he told me to watch the house. I was in charge while he was gone.

I watched them go.

Looking back, I wish that I'd given them a hug, told them I loved them, asked them to stay, but I didn't. I didn't, and now, over two centuries later, I never can.

I suppose I shouldn't blame myself, after all I had no way of knowing that this would quickly become one of the worst nights in a long string of desperately miserable days.

I had no way of knowing that the same night I lost them I would also lose a piece of myself- a piece I can never get back any more than that man can come back to life.

I wasn't bored anymore, because I wasn't a child anymore- wasn't even fully human. I just stood there covered in blood, with that voice echoing in my head. Dirty streets and bloodied wings beckoned me into adulthood.

I haven't been bored since.

>>4 >//////< Thank you~

As my head becomes empty, and my eyes heavy, my soul will leave my body and float to the world of dreams. There, no matter what happens, all I can do is watch the horror, and run.

After I grew up from childhood to a teenager, my dreams stopped me from going to fairy-land, but I still went to the land of horrors. No matter how peaceful my everyday life was, the night was not forgiving. It tortured me every night, as if punishing me for a sin I did not do. I thought that if I was tired enough during the day, I would not have dreams, but I was wrong.

"How was your day, fool," said the demon that visits my dream daily, "Nice try running, it would work if this is any normal nightmare. But do you remember? This isn't."

"What will you do today?" As my soul trembled in fright, my body within the dream managed to squeeze ought those words.

"The usual," he said with a grin, "or do you want more?

My body started to tremble as well. I turned my body to run, but the demon gave chase. As I traversed the world I would like to forget, the demon would show me images that I would never like to see. My feet slowed down from horror, and as a result, the demon caught up. As the source of horror caught up, I ran with renewed vigor. Only to fall into a wonderfully placed pitfall. As I fell into the pitfall, the wind slammed in to my whole body. Just as I was about to hit the bottom. A sound woke me up.

"Get up, your going to be late for school," said my mother. I woke up with the memories of horror fresh in my mind.

This is a story about a girl. She was sickly when she was young and didn't have any friends in school. She was mostly at the hospital, stuck with IV. Her father have a work to do, and can't visit frequently. Her mother have to take care to her other siblings, especially her brother who was only a few years old. And her sibling were at school. No one can't visit frequently, yet she waits for them in bed, barely eaten anything cause she can't digest her food and ended up puking them. When she was better and can go home, all she saw was her parents always fighting, that nearly caused the family to broke. But that wasn't the reason why the family nearly broke. Her father commited adultery, that was the caused of conflict. But it is of course something to be broken apart. Her mother knew that her family depended on the father for financial needs. Her mother retired when her youngest sibling was born. She was now a house wife, and without help raising the kids, that would cause emotional distress for both her and the kids. The parents get back together. Her father found a new better job outside the country, leaving them for 5 years. Her mother took care of them for abit, and followed him a year after he left. The kids were left with strangers, who they barely knew. One of those strangers, stole their wedding ring, they forgot to bring, that was safekeeped inside a wooden cabinet with a lock that can be easily be picked. They blamed the lost of the ring to her, the only kid who knew where it was put. The rest of the years of her life, they were teached on how to ration food, and barely have anything decent to eat. All the money was sent from their parents went straight to her sister's college fees. So she learned not to tempted or want. She was completely nothing. No friends, no parents who tends them, no hobbies, and no possesions. Yet all of that change when they decided to live together to that foreign country. She then have everything that she hadn't before, except for friends cause she don't know how to have proper yet random conversation to a stranger. But those memories have became a nightmare to her. She realized how much different her life is compared to others. Yet she knew other people must be suffering worst than her, so she can't allow to pity herself. The part were the adults interrogated her for the lost ring, gave trauma to her, and she can't hold an eye contact with anyone, without her getting tears. People didn't take her seriously, and think she was rude because she didn't looked at them. Leaving her broken and emotionless even though nearly every problem was solve.

Happy endings was something cliche that could be only seen in the movies. Yet she wanted one before but now is different. She didn't believe
e of those things ever again. And believed death is the only ending.

>>8 Dude, grammar (though mine not be too good either)

A man was sitting upon a broken part of a rock,contemplating the end of the world. Around him, dust and ashes had drowned the trees and the plants, and had poisoned the seas and the air. All life had died and only death and venom remained.
The man who's name was lost to him, cried out in despair,"Another world I couldn't save",he screamed to the sky, but there was none to hear him. Since beginingless time, he had preseved the worlds,appointing caretakers to each one,gods the different races called them. But now they fell apart, one after the other.
He suddently felt another one. One more world was on the edge of shattering.The man stood up,waved his hand, and opened a gate to that world.He glanced on last time toward the burning heavens and the blackened fields, and then passed through the portal.
Stepping on the next world,he realished.This world was without gods for a very long time.Instead he sensed something strange.The gods seemed to...be all around,inside the species that called themselfs humans. the gods were dead but..a part of them lived on. Maybe that was what he was looking for all along. Yes, in that moment he knew it, the answer he was looking for,was here.

>>11 I don't understand. If he sent a caretaker for each world, why are they all in destruction?

>>12 Cause they are crap at their job.

I don't know if you'd consider this a "short" story. It's more of a… long short story. Eheh. I got carried away to say the least.

Drip… Drip… Drip…

Blazing heat, sand scratching my skin, and no water in sight. But I couldn't stop running. He would catch me if I did. And if he caught me, then Horus was doomed. I couldn't let that happen.

He's already got Anukis, Ra, and Set too. It's only a matter of time before he catches me too. But I can't let that happen. Horus and the others are counting on me. Anukis is counting…

***

Pain scorched my skin like the blazing sun. Everything was dark, but everything hurt. Where was I? Did he catch me? Did I fail Ra? Did I fail Horus? Did I fail Anukis?

No wait… I can move. I can feel my fingers. I think they're moving. Barely. Can I open my eyes? I think so. Ack! Yeah I can open them. But it's so bright.

I hear voices, what are they? Who are they? I don't recognize them. Are they his servants? I can't be dead because I would recognize the voices of the dead. These people must be living, if they are real. Are they monsters? I don't know. I can't make sense of anything now.

A hand. There's a hand touching me. It's on my stomach. It's gone now. Now it's on my face. A voice. A female voice. She's asking me something. I can't make it out. She sounds sad though, I can sense it.

"Guys! His eyes! They're moving!" I lifted my left arm that felt like lead and put it over my eyes.

"Ow." I mumbled. "Why is it so bright?"

"It's not. You've just been asleep for a very long time." The female voice answered. I frowned a little and moved my arm, opening my eyes to slits.

"Where am I?" I asked quietly, my voice so hoarse it was beyond my recognition.

"In the Sahara desert sir."

"The Sahara?" I repeated, "Dear Ra, I'm not far enough." I began to sit up but pain shot through me. The woman pushed me back down.

"You are not well enough sir. Please stay with us a few days."

"I can't. He'll catch me if I do. I must leave immediately." I started to sit up again but the woman's strength was a higher level than I expected. She managed to hold me down.

"I'm sorry sir. I don't know who he is but right now you are not well enough to travel." My eyes began to adjust and focus. Immediately I understood her concern. This woman had the look of death about her. She had seen death many a time and was terrified of it. Could I blame her? No. It was a terrifying thing. Even the gods fear it. Even I fear it. Even though we know what will happen, we fear it. Why? Because it is still an unknown even to the gods. I could see her fears, I could feel them. I could not make them worse. I had to stay.

"Alright. As you wish." I said with a slight bow of my head. "But you must release me as soon as I am well. I do not wish to endanger you longer than necessary just because you were kind to me."

"Anything for a servant of the gods." The woman said. I was perplexed for a moment. Servant? Where would she get that? I looked down at myself and saw that I was not in my traditional black robes. In fact, I gave off no true indication as to my true identity in the clothes I was wearing. I was clothed in the tradition wear of the priests of Egypt. A white cloth was wrapped around my waist that draped down past my knees, a golden necklace that befit a king covered the upper part of my chest, and two golden rings circled my upper arms, just below my shoulders. Indeed I had somehow transformed into an Egyptian priest. It was best to play along, I summarized. It would draw less attention if my identity remained a secret.

"Thank you for your many kindnesses. I will make sure to mention the name of you, your family, and your village when I speak to the gods once again. May their blessings fall upon you more often than the Great Nile floods." I replied. The woman gave me a smile.

"There is no need for that but thank you." She replied, “Our caravan is as happy as we need to be. There is no need for any blessings for us, for wealth will make us greedy, offspring will destroy our way of life, and reputation will only make us wanted.” I stared at her with wide eyes. Never before in my life had I met someone like this woman. She did not want a god’s blessing? Truly she was a humble woman.

“At least grace me with the name of such as humble woman.” I pushed. I still intended to bless her with a painless death. She deserved that at least.

“I am called Ka due to my communications with the life force of an individual. I can tell when someone is born and when they will die. Therefore, I am Ka.” She explained, seeming to be in a different world as she spoke. I was moved by it, but the moment was finished when she asked her question.

“And might I ask what your name is good sir?” I hesitated. If I said my true name, she would realize who I was and then no one would be safe. But if I waited too long to respond, then I might end up with the same result. After a moment it came to me.

“I do not seem to remember what my real name is, but I can recall people calling me Anepou Bakh.” I answered. Something flickered in the woman’s eyes. Suspicion? Fear? I was unsure. But I would never know, because it was gone as soon as it came.

“Well, Anepou Bakh, welcome to our caravan. I hope your stay is full of welcome and that whatever troubles you may leave your soul.”

>>12
Cause they were something like lesser gods,each no more powerfull then the world they were sent into.Sometimes even gods,they fail.

>>14 The story is really interesting. I would like to read the completed one, if you don't mind.

Random story

"There's your deal with you accept kid?" The teen sat there for a moment thinking about the horrible things that went down in the last week "I'll tell you" he finally said. "My name is Jack Ryder and this is the story of how I lost everything" the officer sat down and began taking notes "it all started 8 years ago when I met Her..."
"Her?" The officer questioned "I met her when I met him" Jack said with a angry expression "do you mind telling me names?" The officer questioned "his name was Andy Jackson my best friend and my worst enemy" Jack said even angrier "and her name was Alissa Blester the only girl I loved." "will you tell me the story?" The officer asked. "Ya here we go like I said it started 8 years ago I was out playing like a normal child at that age and I found myself in Alissa's back yard it was beautiful the yard was perfect the flowers were amazing and that's where I saw her sitting by the flowers she was surprised she looked like she never left her back yard..." "Who are you?" She asked with a curious look on her face "I'm Jack nice to meet you" I said putting my hand out to shake hers but the girl just jumped back scared of me "what's wrong?" I asked. "You were trying to hurt me" she answered scared "no I was trying to shake your hand that's how you meet someone" I explained "really?" She questioned she slowly started to grab my hand when he showed up "so Ryder your breaking into people's houses now?" Andy laughed as he jumped off her roof "I knew you were low but not that low." " get out of here Andy" I said with a angry tone "fine fine no need for hostility" he joked as he walked away. over time me and Alissa got closer I would come see her everyday after school she had a weak body she was never able to go to public school. At the same time me and Alissa got closer me and Andy became more hostile with each other after 7 years of that Alissa got the news that if she wanted she could go to public school she graciously accepted the offer at the time I was happy but if I knew this would have happened I would have stopped her right then and there. Of course Andy got the news he knew everything that was going on in town and he took joy in ruining everything that's good for me. That first year went by fast Andy was off the grid everything as going great all the way up to April last month when Alissa condition got worse. She was in a coma for 3 weeks because of the coma but she never woke up last Monday after school I was going to see her. I saw him there was Andy sitting on her body with a knife in her head. "Hey there buddy how have you been? Don't worry about your little girlfriend here I put her out of her misery" he says with a evil smile I just stood there no words would come out "what's wrong you look like you had the life sucked out of you?" He said laughing "well I'll be on my way there's a note on the knife if you ever want to settle this I'll be waiting" as he left i wanted to call a nurse but I knew I would be blamed I grabbed the knife out of her it read "swued""I'll kill him" the words finally came out. The note on the knife only had a part of the address I thought it was a clue so I went to the library to check into it. I got home Tuesday after finding nothing and I saw my dad the same way he left Alissa with another part of the address it read "ro" I quickly understood what he was doing he was killing off the rest of my family that means next is my mom, my grandma and my uncle i realized he was killing 1 person everyday and our feud ends Saturday. My mom was out of town till Thursday so I rode the bus to my grandmas house 1 state over by the time I got there it was 1 pm and I was too late she was dead with the third part "old" so far I had "swuedro old" "damn it he's playing games with me" I yelled I sat there looking at what I had for hours trying to think of something still no luck I almost forgot my mom was getting home I ran to the bus stop and got on the bus again I made it in time was what I thought Andy was sitting on the patio drinking tea with my mom when she got up to greet me he cut her neck "so close but so far good luck buddy" he said as he disappeared into the bushes this note read "town" at this point I had already given up I knew I was going to make it to my uncle so I went to bed i needed sleep for Saturday. I woke up middle of the day Friday and got the last note it read "factory" the address was "swuedro old town factory" it was 7 hours away by bus so I got on the bus and prepared myself I had all 5 knifes in my bag and I was going to kill him with knife 1. When I got there at first I saw nothing but then Andy turned on the lights "about damn time man what took you so long?" "I was getting ready to kill you" I answered as I grabbed the knifes he pulled out his own knife "this will be fun" he said as he licked the knife he started running at me and I grabbed the knife as the blade cut into my hand I stabbed him one at a time with my knifes till there was 1 left "go on do it I dare you" he yelled at me "you don't have the balls" "I'll let you think that old friend" I said as I drove the knife into his heart "ha you called me your friend congrats you win the game" he spat out before he died. " and officer that's when you showed up" Jack said "you satisfied?" "Yes" the officer stated Jack looked at the officer seriously "ok officer as are deal said I tell you my story and you do me one favor" "ya ya I know kid what do you want shorter jail time me to let you run once you name it" the officer said "I want you to do one thing and one thing only" Jack said "what is I kid I don't have all day" the officer said annoyed "I want you to kill me". This is the first story I've ever written can you guys pls leave your thoughts on it

More Random that the guys before me.

This is the worst among the worst of your nightmare, dog fleas. Those fleas clench on the dog’s fur and sucks the blood out of them. Fleas are really contagious and also multiply faster than speed of light. They would take over the entire world which is your hair. Everyone would suffer from itchy-itchy heads that would eventually makes everyone bald. They would be laughing at you mockingly as each hair that falls from someone’s head. They live for out bloods, and be able to evolve to a more intellectual being from sucking out brain juice. They would grow bigger and bigger until they would become as big as human, then they could eat us alive, and grilled us, and skin us, and use out bloods like wine. As every human hide from the blood sucking monsters, a certain someone made a weapon to destroy them called insecticides. The humans immediately took extreme measures. They sent all of their capital to the project that would destroy them in one go. The humans made the largest insecticide bomb. The blast radius of the bomb is about 150 km. The smokes that it releases are very deadly that would kill anyone even animals, plants, and humans in just 1 second. As everyone had anticipated for it detonation, humans where protective gears from its deadly gases, and sent the bomb to the very place which everything started. That city has millions to billions of fleas living there. The detonation was broadcast all over the world, as one plane is holding the most dangerous bomb. The one thing they forgot was fleas have wings. As the plane approaches to the capital city for fleas, the fleas flew in groups and attacked the plane and covered the entire thing. The plane went down with the pilot with it, and the only thing everyone remembered is the smoke that looks like huge mushroom. Fleas immediately try to flee but they were swallowed by the blast and only a few was able to live. Those who were able to survive flew away, out the atmosphere, to the huge dark open space, and never seen again. The end

"'"

Paragraphs people. Please, use them.

Yeah, use paragraph in a phone, when you get pissed off just by editing the story

>>21...What?
You are speaking English, but...that didn't make any sense. It's kind of the point of using paragraphs and excellent grammar; so people can understand what you're saying.

"'"
How short do these stories have to be? I'm thinking of posting my own, but it may be too long.

>>22 I think >>20 was being sarcastic. If you're typing on a phone it's more of a pain to scroll back and edit the story, so I guess paragraphs are even more difficult (apparently).

>>23 Well, I guess just try not to make something too much longer than the longest story on here. I think maybe a couple pages? Anything too much longer than that is pushing it a bit, but if it's something you really want to post you could probably just go ahead and do it even if it is a bit long. Just make sure to space it out into paragraphs so it doesn't get too overwhelming.

>>24 That still makes no sense... All you have to do is press "return". If you're already writing a 500-1000 word short story, on /your phone/, how hard is creating paragraphs? (Rhetorical question)

>>25 Fine, I would put paragraphs next time. I can't really edit it cause there's no edit button.

>>24 Thank you.

Uhm, so, I found out the site won't let me post my short story, because its too long...so, I'll just leave a link to it here.

http://singer0011.deviantart.com/art/Wrecked-Hearts-536584394

There were three siblings. The oldest was the only girl, she neither got along with her brothers. She somewhat sees them as an equal. She didn't favor them nor hated them. She wanted them to fend for themselves and claw for their own paths. She only helped them when necesarry. Just like how she did for herself when she was at their age. Only that, her siblings had her and at that time their age, she was alone to fend for herself. And she was a little envious of that, but she remained level-headed and taught them what she knew when they ask to he best of her abilities.
The second brother, who she got along the least, had a personality issue where he wanted everything prepared for him like a king. He did what he wanted. A typical spoiled brat. Instead of asking for a favor from his older sister, he turned her into a maid.
She endured that personality issue for she hoped he'd feel guilty for what he was doing. That all continued until there comes this one day,
The youngest caught a disease. It wasn't contagious but it was life threatening. So he oldest asked for a favor from the second sibling to take care of the youngest while she's out going to look for a doctor. They didn't have phones that time so travelling was the only option.
She gave him a to-do list with every easy detail she could write and bid as short goodbye. She hoped he'd at least take care of the youngest. Travelling to the next village took half a day at best and another half for coming back. She really hoped.
When the oldest was gone, the second went out assuming that his brother was still sound asleep. He took his time and had some of his own fun not knowing his brother was having agonizing pains.
When he came back he found his sister kneeling beside a sheet covered unmoving body. For a moment he was nervous but that nervousness was gone when his sister gave him an unworrying smile.
The next day, she was gone. He thought she was gone for a short trip and left him a big allowance. So he splurged all he wanted, every cent.
Weeks came, months came, she didn't come home at all. He starved, but still he waited. And she came finally.
You know what she said?
"Now, do you know what it feels like to be left alone? No one to rely on and no one to reach? Don't act like a king, you idiot. The world doesn't revolve around your cocky dick. If you weren't my brother I would've killed you on the spot for killing him(youngest)"
And from that day on, the brother realized the real sister who endured society and acknowledged her as a strong individual. He fixed his personality and Practised to be independent. The end.

-i hope you liked it.
Its based on experience, actually.

Here's my first crack at story telling. Most of this is true but saturated for your entertainment. Enjoy.
The Unit.
It's been a almost a year and a half since I left. It was strange. I've been to four mental hospitals as a teenager and my stay at your hospital was the last. Of all four I'd say this hospital was the worst of all four. The way you treated us that night was awful.

Rosy was standing on a table in the day room....just about to have one of her usual fits. I knew this meant that we all would have to return to our rooms so before being told to leave that's what I did. Really I just didn't want to get caught up between the bullshit.

Surprisingly they got Rosy to calm down and to silently return to her room... or so I heard.

Out of nowhere the horror began. I could hear Rosy screaming.
It was always awful hearing them restrain people. I've never seen it first hand or had it done to myself being that I struggle with suicidal thoughts and there was noting easy to kill myself with in those hospitals.

Anyway...Rosy was screaming which was normal in these situations.
I was feeling a bit restless in my room so I went to talk to my neighbor Joseph on the boys side. I saw him run over to the boy side. At first I didn't know what he was trying to do.

I yelled 'Joseph! stop they'll see you!' I liked him. He was cute. I didn't want him to get restrained. It can be rough and frightening to hear.

I couldn't see because the girls side was around the corner to me. But he could because it was down the hall in front of his room.

I almost left my room until I heard more footsteps. My heart sank. More Nurses! Joseph!

I began to hear more commotion. They were tying up Joseph and giving him the booty juice as we called it. It's slang for the sedative they give you for going koo koo. When it was over....

I quietly stepped over to Josephs room to ask what happened.
I my face flushed red with concern ...then rage.

'Joseph! Why are you all tied up. Did they give you the booty juice?'
"Yeah said Joseph' His blood shot eye staring at me. He turned to face the ceiling.

'What happened!?' I cried.
"That nurse was choking Rosy. Her face got purple. She couldn't breathe. I had to push that fat lady off of him."

I heard the front doors of the psych ward open. It was the head doctor. She noticed me.

I remember thinking...I should be fine.

'There's two of them acting up tonight.' said Dr. Robinson.

She looked at me as she passed my room. As she did this she casually said "Shots for every patient".

It was frightening. This had never happened to me before.
Nothing happened though. Thank goodness.

I wasn't allowed to close my door so the light always flooded it. I slowly walked over to the darkest corner of the room.

I thought of how weak I had been. How I didn't have the strength to... protect my friends. I was useless.

Today I'm still in that same hospital.

This coming from the mind of a paranoid,delusional and anxious teen.

(Please leave suggestions and proof read. If that's what you're into)

It's the cold that is driving me insane.
Not the impossibly small cell, the very little food, water, and light, not even the girl somewhere in the hallway that never stops screaming. Only the fact that it is freezing in this cell makes me want to just disappear.
I guess you can say that I adapted to everything else but the cold. Maybe I learned to live under the poor conditions. But the freezing temperatures-that I can't take.
I pull my legs closer to my chest, curling up into a tight, little ball. I stare into the cell across from mine, watching the girl who is the reason why I'm here. Right now, she's asleep, and has no idea how much I want to go over and rip her to shreds.
What scares me the most is that I actually want her dead.
I close my eyes as the night everything happened replays in my mind.


Three men standing the doorway of my apartment. "You are coming with us."
They grab me, and carry me away to a truck, throwing me in the back. At soon as the doors slam shut and they get into the truck, they speed away.
Four other girls sit in the back with me. One of them I recognize.
"I’m sorry," she says. "They found me...and I thought if I gave them the locations of other teens then maybe..."
"You gave us up," I snap. "You told them where we were hiding to try to save yourself?"
She nods, her blue eyes shimmering with tears.
"Does...does anyone know what they're going to do to us?" one of the other girls asks.
"I heard it's medical experiments...but no one really knows," another girl whispers.
I put my head down, listening to the roar of the engine as the truck carries us to an unknown fate.


I live in a society where some teenagers are safe, and others are not. I was never safe, and always hunted down. But no one ever found me. Until my best friend, the person I trusted the most, turned me in while trying to save herself.
I open my eyes at the sound of footsteps, pushing myself up off the cold floor. I rub my hands together in vain attempt to make them warm, watching as a boy, who has to be about my age, walks into the hall. He stops, glancing at me, and his icy eyes look at me, only for a second, before he turns away and continues to make his way down the hall.
I had no idea at the time, but that boy would be my only way of getting out of this horrific, freezing place.

There was an ordinary girl. She was walking through a long path where the ending was unseen. She walk for years on that path without knowing where it leads. Somehow she though that following that path was her destiny. For, days, weeks, months, she keeps on walking even during stormy days. She never wonder how she got there and what she was supposed to do. One her way, she met plenty of people, some were good, others were bad. Yet she still enjoy her time. She kept on laughing but nothing sincere, she did not understand friendship. One day she feel in love but it was nothing much for that she didn't even realized it by herself. She kept on telling herself that it was admiration and that real love do not exist. People could tell that she was lonely but she just answered : "I'm not. I'm following my path and no one will ever comble me other than myself". Then she keeps on continuing her way. She was getting tired, she asked herself : "Am I doing the right thing ?" that's when she wonders for the first time if following that path was the right choice. She wasted her time. Time that she will never get back. On that path, she needed help, but she was too coward to ask for it. She will never accomplish her life being on that path. Then she started to fear her future. There was no meaning in her life. She could not done anything else and keep on walking... The wind was getting stronger, she realized. She was all alone. Nobody was there for her. She cried a river. She was sure that she would find someone to help her. No one came. She was in fear about what she will become.

One day she disappeared far away. Nobody ever knew what she become and what happened to her. As she disappeared, her path disappeared as well. And yet the world kept on turning, the sun was setting as usual, the people lives their lives, seasons were succeding each other. The world was beautiful.

Sitting here. It is warm and the sweat is running down your neck. You look up from your desk, searching for a distraction, searching for something you could and want too focus on. But the heat lies heavily on your shoulders, taking away your breath. You feel something, you found something that captures your interest and keeps your mind together. The little spot of hope, like a tear, a small drop of salvation on your shoulder. Gathering smaller drops, growing and starting to move. Coming to the point, you actually would remember you are gazing at your own sweat, you don't care anymore. It travels down your arm. You have to think of all the things it passes. The organic tissue you define as yourself. Blood, skin, bones, all the things your corrupted mind forces its will upon. You think what they would do without you dictating them. What could be at their place, what they would accomplish, how the would look without restraints. You were too slow, the drop has passed your elbow, too late to change something, it is heading straight for your wrist. You think of the times, that you stared at your wrist, searching for a reason, that you have one and what ... The thoughts come to an abrupt ending as the drop accelerates down your ring finger. You fear loosing it, this drop as host of dear thoughts can't leave you now, it would strip you naked and leave you without any safety. The center of your interest can't disappear so easily! ... If only gravity could pull you forward as well. It really depends on the perspective.

She slapped me. I don't remember exactly what we were talking about before this moment. It's as if my mind went completely blank. I feel furious. An uncontrollable rage takes over me completely, and the next thing I know, my body is crouching over hers, and there's blood on my fist. The girl was barely conscious, with her eyes half closed, but still breathing hard. Her nose looks broken and her cheeks are bruised. What happened? I couldn't have zoned out for that long. I stare in disbelief at the girl and my bloody fist. I looked around to get a grasp of my surroundings. I'm at school. Everyone is watching me with that blank expression, an expression I am all too familiar with. It's so annoying. I hate it. Stupid bastards. What the hell are they looking at? I yelled at all of them to go away, this is none of their business. They stay. It's almost as if they can't hear me. Honestly, I can barely hear myself. It's as if those words were never spoken. I almost forget what I said. They start whispering to each other. Now, I felt too numb to get angry. The crowd suddenly parts to make way for one of the teachers. He said to no one in particular, "what the hell is going on?" Then he looked at me and the girl. He came over and told me to get off. I was told to go to the front office immediately. Why didn't he come while I was fighting her? Maybe it hasn't been that long. I wasn't sure. I walked to the front office. The principle lectured me, but I didn't listen. This is not something new. I've been in this situation many times. I never made excuses, I knew it was my fault and my fault only.
Some minutes later, I saw Mrs. Carla and Mr. Harold come in. They are my foster parents. They insisted that I was a good kid, but I went through some hardships. The principle said it was no excuse. He said I was suspended.
The car ride home was silent. I was looking out the window, somewhat in a daze. I felt sleepy. When we got home I took a nap.
I opened my eyes. What time was it? I looked at the alarm clock. It was 2:52. I lay back down on my dark pillow. I remembered what happened just an hour ago. Oh well. I wasn't too concerned, since I can easily catch up later. That is, if I don't move to another foster home. That would be a bother. I reached for my smartphone and started playing a game. I got bored quickly as usual, and decided to go out on the back yard to relax. I sat on a rocking chair on the wooden porch and watched the sky. It was nice weather, probably around 80 degrees. There was a gentle breeze blowing. There were many puffy, white clouds in the sky. Around the backyard were a bunch of pine trees. There was an empty field in front of me. I continued rocking back and forth slowly. Soon, the sky started turning pink. The sun was orange. I heard the back door open.
"It's dinner time. Come inside,"said Mr. Harold.
"Okay,"I mumbled. I shuffled inside, following him. I close the door behind me.

I'm trying to understand what it feels like in a near death experience, so I'm going to write different ways of death and what they might feel like.

First, I'm going to start with the classic one, Death by Sickness.

My end is near. I can feel it. My doctor said I only have few days to live. I myself know it was true. My family is in chaos. My father drunk his sorrows and my mother try her best to pull herself together but still ended up crying. Only my brother was there for me. But I know, he was crying during my sleep. Àsking why I have to die? Yet knowing that no one can answer that question. Praying to God to save his little sister.

Today, I asked my brother to take me outside, even though it was not good to my health. Doctor and Nurses allowed me like they understand. No one wants to stay in a hospital bed in their few days of their lives. My brother was hesistant but continued on. Knowing, it was the last thing I can ask for him a favor. The sunlight was glaring to my eyes, as my brother opened the hospital door. I adjusted my eyes and saw the beauty of things. The sky so blue, the grass so green, and a morning breeze that gave me a chill. My brother stopped on his tracks, took of his jacket, and gave it to me. I'm really thankful for having a loving brother.

My brother continued pushing the wheel chair, until we arrived to the hospital garden. It was beautiful. I hear the birds chirping their beautiful melody, the smell of carnations, the warmth of sunlight, and the vibrant colors flooding from my sight. My brother stopped at the middle of the garden in the resting place they called gazebo. The warmth faded as we entered the shade. My brother then sat down one of the bench. I wanted to see more so I ask to let me be on my own. My brother agreed, stayed there, and watch me intensely, as I moved away on my own, to the place of uncertainty. My brother's eyes were clouding like he was about to cry. He's probably thinking about me, my death, and the consequence. My family grieving to me as if I was dead. I, in the other hand, felt at peace. I accepted my fate even if I have few regrets. And ending the pain once and for all.

I stopped in my tracks, a few feet away from him. In front of a great big tree. Within the branches, I saw a nest and a 2 chicks. In the ground, I hear a chirping, a chick who fell down from the tree. The chick struggles as it trying to fly, but fail to its inexperience, the bird cry. So I decided to stand and carry him up, but just like the bird I struggle to get up. My brother jolt out to his sit and rushed to my side. Telling me to sit down cause its bad for my health. But still I insist to stand even If I can't hold my body weight. To grab the little thing, and put him to wear it belongs. My brother supporting me as I slowly stood up and walk towards the fallen bird. Shaking uncontrollably from the strain and the pain. Sweating profusely as if doing something great. My chest tightens in the excessive pain. I feel like I'm about to cough out blood over again. My heart palpitate so fast that I could hear the beat. Yet still I continue on and grab the little chick. Softness and warmth from the bird invaded my skin. Holding it slowly like the most fragile thing. I gave it to my brother and told him to return it from the nest. The nest is high above my reach, if I try to force myself much more I would collapse in an instant. I sit back down and watch my brother climbing up the tree. Hoping that he won't fall and get injured because of me. He put the chick in a loose pocket and took him out when the nest is within arm reach. He put it gently, and slowly came down from the tree. I thanked my brother and hug him tight. He scolded me abit for my recklessness. Yet still I can't abadon a being in need. My time for my medication is close so I have to return to my room. My brother push me back until I returned to my room. He help get up and sit from the bed. I slowly moved to lay down and rest. I hold my brother hands and sincerely thanked him from my unreasonable request. For the first time, my brother broke down and cried in front of me. And let his tears fall down from my skin.

I laughed quietly. Nothing would ever be as funny to me as this petty excuse for a rival. I'll admit, I was worried at first but that was only due to how powerful the media made him seem.

However, now, tied to a chair with a gag in his mouth and my gun to his head, he seemed quite pathetic. I felt as though I'd been lied to once again and that thought made me mad; mad enough to do something terrible. That was just the kind of mad I like.

I found myself laughing even harder until it hurt my stomach and tears gathered in my eyes. Everything was perfect the way it would never be again and I was so glad.

Wanting to humor myself further, I slowly removed the gag from his mouth, reveling in the look of disgust and horror etched on to his otherwise perfect features.

A sudden realization seemed to strike him and I almost cried with laughter seeing that my hopes were true as he straightened up, looking at me with a confident smirk. He was really going to do it.

"So," he started, clearly holding back a smug grin, "now that you have me at your mercy, why don't you tell me what your plan was? It's not as if I can do anything to prevent it now." He smiled mischievously.

Chuckling lightly I bent down so that I was closer to him and whispered, almost inaudibly: "I'm no fool." I pressed the trigger and it was lights out. Finally, the bad guy wins.

"I love you"
"Pardon?"
It was one o'clock and the school children were having their lunch. There were several out in the playground , whilst others were still inside having their lunch.
A girl blinked rapidly. Standing before her was a boy in her same year; his face was a bright colour of red, he had messy short hair and scruffy uniform. The cawing of the crows that flies over the playground looking for small bits of food the children may have dropped, seemed to sound louder as the deafening silence stretched on.
"I love you" he repeated. His face, as bright as fully ripened tomatoes. The girl stood still for a while before responding with, "Why?" This time the boy was the one that blinked, feeling rather confused. "Why do you 'love' me? We don't even know each other well. Despite the fact that we are usually in the same class we never really even talk to each other." The girl paused. "Pray do tell me, why do you 'love' me? And what is this 'love' you are talking about."
"I love you. It is as simple as that. I love the little gestures you made when you try to apologize to the person that bumped into you. I love the faces you make when you joke around with your friends. I love the confused face you make when my friends snicker and teased me about my feelings. In short, I love everything about you." This time it was the girl that turned bright red, seeing this the boy paused before smirking and continued on, "As to why I love you, I myself don't know. But I do know the fact that I'm obsessed with you. Your smiling face lingers in my thoughts and our every small contacts and conversations I remember. And see, I've turned into a bloody idiot that use these vocabulary that I would never use with other people. I love you. That's all I know"

I dislike myself. I really dislike myself.

I would often utter those two sentences to my friends and they would in turn tell me to stop hating myself. But you see, they have misinterpreted me.
I don't hate myself, I just really dislike myself. If I do hate myself, I would have either killed myself a long time ago or isolate myself from the rest of the world.
It's not that I want attention. In fact it would be great if they just ignored me and continue on with what they were doing. I can't help but utter these lines over and over again. "I dislike myself."
My definition of "I dislike myself" may differ from many individuals around the world. But "I dislike myself" to me, means that I dislike my flaws.
I believe there are those in this world that loves their own flaws. Trivial flaws to the seemingly more serious ones. Flaws such as being often late to school or work or being an alcoholic.
I dislike my flaws tremendously. It is true for some people that their flaws makes up who they are, but I don't believe that is the case for me. Of course I don't think I can be a 'perfect' human being but I think as a human being I will always try harder, strive harder and try to improve in various aspect of my life.
For me, disliking my flaws means that I will always try to improve on myself. Not because of whatever society views me as or what others expect of me. But rather because I dislike myself.
I dislike myself. Therefore I will try harder.

AN:I know this don't make much sense but this just came to. Thank you for taking time to read this >_<

This is kinda long, and I just wrote it in, like ten minutes.
This occurred to me while eating lunch today. Figured I'd give it a try.

The Door Man

You are very good at your job. There are better jobs, you know, but this gig pays pretty well.

You are a Welcomer at the biggest, best hotel in Hollywood. The best and brightest in the business all come here, and you are the one who greets them.

You think back to the time, years ago, when you first started. Management had wanted to try something new, something... classy, and make a great first impression.
When you started, you had to do a lot of training, you recall.
The big wigs had to have the first person the guests saw make the stay all worth it, and you were driven into the ground to memorize the motions.

Open the door. Smile and nod politely. Offer to take the customer's luggage to the bellhop for them. Usher them in, all dapper-like.

Open. Smile and nod. Offer. Usher. Dapper!
Open-smile-nod-offer-usher-dapper.
OpensmilenodofferusherDAPPER.

Over and over, you went through the motions. Day after day, month after month, year after year.
Eventually, it all became instinct, and you just stopped thinking.

You really, really hate your job. There are better jobs, you know, but this is all you know how to do anymore.
You continued this empty life until THAT day came.

The End.

On that day, you did your job just like every other day-month-YEAR, when an odd fellow came up. He seemed dazed, in pain. You tried to help, going through the motions.
In the back of your mind, you realized that everything would change.

In a flash of sudden motion, you feel a sudden agony and see a splash of shining crimson.
As you stare, betrayed and confused, into the eyes of the visitor, you are filled with a sudden sense of reason, of - of PURPOSE.

- Months Later -

You stand at the back of a great horde, approaching the last of the warmwarmwarm's in the city. They had barricaded themselves into a great nest, that seemed oddly familiar.
A twinge of SOMETHING sloshed around in the back of the rotten mass of meat you call a brain.

As you slowly, stumblingly, make your way to the front of the horde (purely by chance), you notice that the leaders of the great host
are wearing some especially fancy scrap-plant?-hides.
A suit and a dress, you vaguely recall the name.

The twinge returns, stronger now. An odd agony.

As you reach the door, and look back at the mass of your brethren, your mind (ha!) blanks in a flash of white pain.
And you remember.
You remember the instincts, pounded into your very body, day after day, month after month, and year after year.

You realize that the great host has no way in - the warmwarmwarm's were clever - except one.

The Door. The greatest enemy the horde has truly ever faced.
You had all entered them before, after hours of beating, but by then the warmwarmwarm's were always prepared, and many of your brethren were lost from the swarm.

You knew what you had to do.

You approach the door, hesitating (how Odd!) and grab at the handles. Your rotten hand slip but you feel the cold metal within your grasp after a moment.
You turn to the horde, who have stopped and watched, befuddled at your actions.

And you follow the instincts you know.
You Open the door. You smile (grimace, really) and nod. You groan out half-remembered nonsense.

And you Usher in the GUEST.

Dapper-Like.

>>34 I walked to the dining room and sat down at the table. There was grilled salmon on my plate, as well as white rice and steamed cauliflower. They cooked my favorite foods. They always are nicer to me after I fight with someone. Why? They probaly do it so I wouldn't be hostile to them. I have a history of violence, which was probably inherited from my abusive mother. Every year at school I get into fights, and the amount of fighting has not changed these past years. I thought it would after moving repeatedly in different foster homes. I have been with Mrs. Carla and Mr. Harold for three weeks. I hope I can stay. Moving is always so bothersome. After I finished dinner I went to my room and layed on my bed.
I remember what happened the day before the fight. I was talking to Sara. It went something like this:
Sarah sits by me at lunch, but she's silent. She doesn't eat anything either. She pokes at her food. I continue eating quietly, as usual. I don't care to know any of her life problems. She starts the conversation with:
"You know that boy I was talking about before?"
"Sure," I lied. I must have zoned out while she was talking about him.
"He...rejected me." Her eyes were getting shiny.
I continued eating. After chewing I said, "is that so?"
She had a hurt and angry look on her face.
"Do you even care?"
I shrugged.
She sat with her hands tightened around her spork. Then she moved to the table in front of me. She sat with her back to me. Some seats down, there was a group of girls snickering making fun of her. They started gossiping. I continued eating. Now more people knew about her rejection by whoever. She never said a name, so I'm not sure how they knew. I didn't really care. The bell rang, and she and I went our separate ways to third period. When I was on my way to fourth period, I went to my locker in the hall. Just as I was putting in the locker combination, she walked up beside me.
It was silent for a moment. I opened my locker. It was then she finally said something.
"You were the only one I had."
I stayed silent.
"When I finally had someone to talk to, you cut it off. You didn't bother trying to help me. You just made a snarky reply. Maybe you find me annoying, but you could at least be more considerate."
I looked at her and frowned. "I don't think you're annoying. I don't think anything of you."
"Oh, so now I'm just unimportant? You didn't even try to defend me when I was bullied. When I met you, I thought you were a nice quiet person, but now I know you're nothing but an asshole. You didn't comfort me when I was hurting. You left me alone. You're horrible."
I was getting a little irritated. "Do you have anything else to say?"
She was silent.
Despite not knowing his name, I knew about her feelings for him, and the overall situation. It was clear he didn't like her. I was getting angry.
"Maybe if you actually used logic and reason, you would've figured out that he never cared about you. You're infatuation with him is ridiculous, too. It's shallow, and it's stupid. You could've avoided this problem easily if you weren't being such an idiot. Your "love" for him is nonsense, as well as your reasoning. Don't come complaining to me about things that was started by your stupidity. In fact, don't come complaining to me at all, because I don't care about any problems you have."
She was shaking. Her fists were clenched. "I'm not afraid to punch you in the face."
I got my science book out and closed my locker.
"You're wasting my time. Can we talk about this later?"
I started walking around her.
This is when she slapped me.
That stupid bitch.....
....
I started wondering why she slapped me instead of punching me. Was she just being cocky? Oh well. I'll see tomorrow.

>>40 you should have continued it before a couple of posts. Anyway, I like your story but I don't see it ending sooner, please try posting the entire short story in one go.

>>41 I'll just stop posting.

>>42 Stop being a pessimist. When I said "I like your story" I mean it. Continue your story otherwise it frustrates me more not knowing the ending.

>>43 I wasn't being a pessimist. I said I'll stop posting because it may be a while before I get a good idea of what should happen next and there's another story I want to write, so I want to focus on writing that story instead of this one. I think the word you meant was "offended?" If so, I wasn't feeling offended. I did not harbor any negative emotions at all, actually. But if someone is interested in my story, I am willing to finish it on my next post.

After zoning off for a while, I eventually took a shower and went to bed.

When the alarm went off the next day, I realized that I was suspended, so I was staying home. I'll be staying home until next Wednesday. The week was spent on playing video games, watching TV shows and streaming anime, and going outside. It's too bad when I get back to school, I'll have a ton of make up work to do.
The time with my foster parents was spent discussing the reasons for why I reacted so violently.
Mr. Harold is one (someone I consider) reasonable overall. He can be quite blunt about his opinions, too. He seems to be reasonably popular with people at work and has quite a few friends outside of work. He is very sarcastic, and it shows clearly when he's irritated (and he's irritated a lot. He has a short temper.) It bothers him that I don't talk to him about things going on at school, and seems to be baffled why I don't, and never had, any friends at school. Unlike a lot of other of my foster parents, he's more understanding, which I find surprising. He isn't hesitant to bring up subjects most people find awkward.
Mrs. Carla acts more cheerful, not in the type of way you would think. She likes to joke around a lot, and can turn serious discussions into something funny. She is very patient and well-adjusted. She does not have a lot of friends. The reason she provided for this is that she was picky about her friends. She only enjoys the company of certain people. Despite them both being silent at the dinner table, they weren't really angry at me. Mr. Harold felt upset that I had a violent reaction so quickly, and Mrs. Carla felt awkward bringing up the subject because she didn't know what to say.
Over the week, we discussed this and became more comfortable with the subject. Mrs. Carla started doing some research on anger issues and started understanding me and getting insight into this type of violence and Mr. Harold started talking about ways to deal with my anger. I explained what happened in the fight. I explained that I couldn't remember what happened during the fight. I just knew I felt really angry and I injured her after being so angry. I can't remember actually punching her in the face. This happens a lot of the time in outbursts. My irritation turns into anger, then into fury. Because of this built up anger, I often react violently. Sometimes I do remember fights, but that's because in those fights, I was fighting willingly. That happened a few times when I was living with my biological mother, in the ghetto. Setting this aside, my reputation at the ghetto was not violent, but rather quiet and peaceful. I didn't go around looking for fights when living there.
I even had these violent outbursts with my mother. I was usually afraid of her when I was little, but when I started getting older I became more defiant. There were more arguments between us and more physical fights. Eventually, the DCF found us and started questioning my mother and me. I was taken away, but she didn't care. I didn't mind either, naturally.
Did I get off-topic again? Whoops.
Soon, I would be going to school again. It's 9:30 p.m. right now and I'm laying on my bed staring up at the ceiling. What's school going to be like tomorrow? Probably mundane. I wonder what Sara thinks of me now. Scary? An asshole? Immature? Does she hate me? I'm getting curious now. Maybe I can ask her tomorrow, if she doesn't try to avoid me. After an hour of wondering, I finally fall asleep.
...
The alarm goes off at 5:30. I eat yogurt and get ready more quickly then usual, in about twenty-five minutes, eager to go to school and see what would happen. Wait...it's probably going to be pretty normal today, isn't it? How disappointing. I sit down on the couch and read a book. That book is The Secret Garden. I felt curious because this book is a classic and is also seems to be pretty well known, and it was popular, but it didn't seem like the type of book that would be popular among today's teens. It's really interesting. It makes sense that it's a well-known title. I should read more old classics.
At 6:40, I walk to the bus stop and wait. The two girls who were already there glanced at me uncomfortably as I sat down, and walked a little further. As more kids started coming, I noticed that they distanced themselves away from me. I saw the bus farther down the road, like every other day. I stare down at the road and wait for the bus to come. It came to a stop in front of us. On the bus, some people glanced at me, but that's it. I continue looking out the window as usual. I'm not actually observing the outside. I usually zone out deep in thought when doing this. After zoning out for a while, the bus stops and students start getting off. I get off last.
The first three classes were normal. Some kids were whispering to eachother. I don't know what they were talking about. Did they glance at me? I have no idea. When I went to my locker, I saw Sara, but this time she had a group of girls around her. She has friends now? Huh. Good for her. She's talking about her sad life story and they respond with sympathy. She caught me looking at her. So did the other girls. Sara smirked when she saw me and the girls around her sneered. One pointed the middle finger. She seems strangely smug. What happened while I was gone? Sara started walking towards me. I closed my locker and turned towards her.
She starts off with, "Well I see you're still alone, as usual."
This is getting weird. I was so sure she would avoid me. What is up with this stereotypical bullying? And how did she get friends?
"You're acting weird."
She looks irritated and confused. "How?"
"I was so sure you would avoid me, but you're criticizing me instead. And for some reason, you manage to get friends, and now I'm at the receiving end of cliche bullying tactics. What happened when I was gone?"
She was silent for a moment. Then she sneered.
"You'll see soon enough."
God damn it! I was so close to getting a proper answer. All is good though, because apparently I'm going to find out the answer soon enough, even though half the school day has passed and I still have no idea what happened. If there still is no answer to this by the end of the day, I'll have to figure this out by myself.
In science class while I was gone, they started doing group projects. There was a group with one person short, so I went there. The people in that group are Mira, Jacob, and Hannah. It was silent for a moment. Then Hannah blurted out, "Is it true that you actually killed someone?"
She...spread a rumor? What kind of rumor is this? People actually fall for this? Gah. Kids these days are so gullible. They'll believe anything they hear. Did she somehow find out about my history of violence and exaggerated the scenarios? You know what? Screw it. I don't care anymore.
"I never killed anyone. If I did, I would probably not be at school. I would be in juvenile detention."
And that was that. School went on normally while some people gossiped about me. The end.
...what, you expected more? Nope. There's nothing more.

Okay, I'll at least give you an epilogue.
The rumor at school died and the months went by as normal. I did not move into another foster home, nor is that expected to happen anytime soon. School went on being boring, Sara stopped hanging out with her group of friends, and my life continued like it always had. I don't hang out with Sara anymore. I got into a few fights, but it never got too ugly. Life is pretty peaceful for me.
Yet for some reason, I don't feel satisfied. I crave for something new, something abnormal to happen. Something out of the ordinary would be cool...maybe I'll create a gang online.




Gahahahaha! You thought I was being serious? Nah. I won't rip off Durarara. I'm not that terrible.

Bump. Ok, I'll make a short story

None was told that this story was about to unfold for its powers and glory and also sorts of things. I never really know what I'm about to say so I'm just going to say whatever's pops in my head.

This is a story about a boy, who's life is simply as it could be. He found new friends when he trasferred schools, and made best friends and also made crushes too. He's the intellectual type who have nothing to fear but ahead he goes as he dream big. He dreams to be a scientist, the one who could change, as simply as discovery or build things. So the girl beside him, admires his dreams, eventhough she's a bit peculiar and also fun to hangout with. He and she were like in perfect harmony, the best of pairs, in group projects or things. But as the years passed, things have change, as they go on with their lives in peace. As she moved away far from his place, and never seen each other again. The end.

(Pt1) There was nothing more than a spot to paint on her mask and the bell already rang. It was a project that was for her AP Art class. Elizabeth was sure that she was going to get an A on this piece of work. She was an active artist, always drawing or making sculptures. "Elizabeth!" Her friend called out to her from across the room. "I'm just about done, hold your horses." She said with determination. She put the last brush stroke down on the mask. "Okay done" Elizabeth said, She picked up the mask and held it gently as she walked over to her friend, Tina. "Let me see!" Tina jerked her arm. "Fine." Elizabeth held up the object to reveal a white mask that had black lips and black edges around the eyes. "It looks like Jane the Killers mask!" Tina started to jump and fangirl. "That was the idea but I think I'll make it better after I get a grade to make sure I won't mess it up." Elizabeth said with a soft tone, Tina nodded in approval and waved goodbye. It was the end of the day and she was ready to go home and take some pictures of her new creation. "Oh! Liz! I won't be over today!" Tina yelled as she walked away. Elizabeth waved at her to show she understood and started to walk to her special shack not far from her house. It was old and falling apart but this was where she could do something she really loved, more than art itself, burning things. She always carried a lighter in her red jacket that she wore everyday. Her lucky lighter helped her burn old art that she hated, leaves, old homework and every thing she saw that wasn't worthy to be in this world. She took out her Walkman and put in her earbuds, Music and fire were her version of therapy. One day, she would eventually burn down the old shack before it falls to make sure it wouldn't be destroyed without her having the satisfaction of her doing it herself. The shack creaked in the breeze, today was the day. She grabbed her mask and took out her old homework and lighter. "Time to burn shit." She never used profanity in front of anyone else but the shack. Elizabeth put the papers on the floor and sparked her lighter. She set it close to the papers and they started to burn. "Yes..." Elizabeth whispered and ran out with her mask. Sitting away a safe distance, she watched her shack turn slowly into nothing but ashy crisp and crackling wood. It was beautiful, the colors of fire and its motion dancing around the old cracked wood, It splintered and cracked under the pressure. Her phone vibrated alerting her that she got a text. It read, "Are you burning shit again?, that's a lot of smoke..." it was from her older brother, Arron. From his bedroom window he can see her, or at least the smoke of when she burns things. She texted back, "I'm burning the shack, it was time. I'm a safe distance. Be home in about two hours, want to make sure the fire goes out." Sitting there for an hour listening to her music and watching the bright lights dancing from the fire and dark red and black smoke, She began to cry as it was an emotional sight. She reached for her mask and put it on, no one must see her cry. It was a good long three hours before the fire finally died down. Sad and yet relieved, she started to stroll home. Her house was just on the corner of 444th St. It wasn't much and it looked like an abusive household to anyone, which it was. Elizabeths hand reached for the door, but it opened for her.


(Pt2) "Where the fuck were you?" Arron was worried and he was the only one that was worried about her lateness or her in general. "Had to make sure it burned out." She stood there with her mask now back in her hand as he sighed. "Just text me if you are going to be late, Fire is dangerous and I was worried that you got hurt." She walks in the dull house and sighs. Her dad was sitting in front of the TV again. Elizabeth glanced at him. Thats the only father-daughter relationship she will ever get. She hated the smell of his cigarettes and wandering eye for woman. Her mother was nonexistent except for at late at night when she comes home from drinking. Elizabeth is the normal one in the family, the one that likes to lie to her friend and burn things. Arron, even with his caring personality, didn't really take care of himself. Elizabeth started to walk up to her room when something caught her eye. Her mother was home and walking to the kitchen. A rare sight. She had to investigate. "Oh! Heeeey there dalin!" She was piss drunk so its not too surprising. "Hey mom, what are you doing home?." Elizabeth had a normal relationship with her mom before Elizabeth's dad cheated multiple times and her mother started drinking. Her mother took the mask that was in Elizabeths hand and that's when she became nervous. "Cools, It's pweetty, wittle Miss. Feiodé, you ill get an A!" Her mother looked at her drink and accidentally dropped the mask. A shatter of clay from the top right crumbled off. Worst part is she didn't even notice her mistake and went back to bed with a bottle. Elizabeth sighed, cleaned up the mess and kept the now partly broken mask. She already had her therapy today, and that won't happen again now that her shack is burned down. Maybe she could burn something else she thought. Something bigger to cover the damage of her family. She asked her Arron to go to the store for some new paint, her favorite red paint. She felt that he was one of the things right with this family. By the time he left, both mom and dad were already fast asleep from alcohol and sleeping pills. They shouldn't get up even if they smell smoke. She saw a painting in the hallway she always hated and put her lighter up to it. The oil in the paint made it easy to burn and it made the fire different colors. "Beautiful." She whispered with a cold, dead tone. The fire then spread to the wall and the string kept the burning painting up snapped apart due to the heat. The painting fell on Elizabeths face and shoulders. She screamed in agony and quickly swiped the burning painting away. Holding her head in her hands she stumbled out to the living room. There were now burn scars and marks on her face. Once it hits her moms room, where her mom was sleeping, it would hit the alcohol and explode in a quick move. Elizabeth put her mask on over her red face and tears of pain to cover the burns when she heard her father wake up, the heat making him uncomfortable. She quickly covered his mouth, put one finger to her mouth and shushed him. With her right hand she grabbed a bottle of vodka and smashed it over his head, the glass shattered with the remaining vodka pour on him and knocked his sorry ass out. Taking his lighter, she left through the backdoor and kept walking until her house was fully engulfed in the deep crimson, cool orange and other colored streaks. "Things that are unworthy to be in this world should be burned by me."

Within a week, everyone was talking about the fire at the Feiodé house. The remaining member of the family was her older brother. People questioned to where Elizabeth was. Most thought she was dead from the size of the fire. The police knew that she was still alive since no other remains were found besides that of the mother and father. This was the first of many house fires these days. Some reported seeing a girl with long brown hair in a ponytail with a red jacket and a white mask walking around at night in the area. If anyone was close enough to her, they could see through the eye holes in the mask and see vacant brown eyes right before they were burned alive.

The Egg
By: Andy Weir

You were on your way home when you died.

It was a car accident. Nothing particularly remarkable, but fatal nonetheless. You left behind a wife and two children. It was a painless death. The EMTs tried their best to save you, but to no avail. Your body was so utterly shattered you were better off, trust me.

And that’s when you met me.

“What… what happened?” You asked. “Where am I?”

“You died,” I said, matter-of-factly. No point in mincing words.

“There was a… a truck and it was skidding…”

“Yup,” I said.

“I… I died?”

“Yup. But don’t feel bad about it. Everyone dies,” I said.

You looked around. There was nothingness. Just you and me. “What is this place?” You asked. “Is this the afterlife?”

“More or less,” I said.

“Are you god?” You asked.

“Yup,” I replied. “I’m God.”

“My kids… my wife,” you said.

“What about them?”

“Will they be all right?”

“That’s what I like to see,” I said. “You just died and your main concern is for your family. That’s good stuff right there.”

You looked at me with fascination. To you, I didn’t look like God. I just looked like some man. Or possibly a woman. Some vague authority figure, maybe. More of a grammar school teacher than the almighty.

“Don’t worry,” I said. “They’ll be fine. Your kids will remember you as perfect in every way. They didn’t have time to grow contempt for you. Your wife will cry on the outside, but will be secretly relieved. To be fair, your marriage was falling apart. If it’s any consolation, she’ll feel very guilty for feeling relieved.”

“Oh,” you said. “So what happens now? Do I go to heaven or hell or something?”

“Neither,” I said. “You’ll be reincarnated.”

“Ah,” you said. “So the Hindus were right,”

“All religions are right in their own way,” I said. “Walk with me.”

You followed along as we strode through the void. “Where are we going?”

“Nowhere in particular,” I said. “It’s just nice to walk while we talk.”

“So what’s the point, then?” You asked. “When I get reborn, I’ll just be a blank slate, right? A baby. So all my experiences and everything I did in this life won’t matter.”

“Not so!” I said. “You have within you all the knowledge and experiences of all your past lives. You just don’t remember them right now.”

I stopped walking and took you by the shoulders. “Your soul is more magnificent, beautiful, and gigantic than you can possibly imagine. A human mind can only contain a tiny fraction of what you are. It’s like sticking your finger in a glass of water to see if it’s hot or cold. You put a tiny part of yourself into the vessel, and when you bring it back out, you’ve gained all the experiences it had.

“You’ve been in a human for the last 48 years, so you haven’t stretched out yet and felt the rest of your immense consciousness. If we hung out here for long enough, you’d start remembering everything. But there’s no point to doing that between each life.”

“How many times have I been reincarnated, then?”

“Oh lots. Lots and lots. An in to lots of different lives.” I said. “This time around, you’ll be a Chinese peasant girl in 540 AD.”

“Wait, what?” You stammered. “You’re sending me back in time?”

“Well, I guess technically. Time, as you know it, only exists in your universe. Things are different where I come from.”

“Where you come from?” You said.

“Oh sure,” I explained “I come from somewhere. Somewhere else. And there are others like me. I know you’ll want to know what it’s like there, but honestly you wouldn’t understand.”

“Oh,” you said, a little let down. “But wait. If I get reincarnated to other places in time, I could have interacted with myself at some point.”

“Sure. Happens all the time. And with both lives only aware of their own lifespan you don’t even know it’s happening.”

“So what’s the point of it all?”

“Seriously?” I asked. “Seriously? You’re asking me for the meaning of life? Isn’t that a little stereotypical?”

“Well it’s a reasonable question,” you persisted.

I looked you in the eye. “The meaning of life, the reason I made this whole universe, is for you to mature.”

“You mean mankind? You want us to mature?”

“No, just you. I made this whole universe for you. With each new life you grow and mature and become a larger and greater intellect.”

“Just me? What about everyone else?”

“There is no one else,” I said. “In this universe, there’s just you and me.”

You stared blankly at me. “But all the people on earth…”

“All you. Different incarnations of you.”

“Wait. I’m everyone!?”

“Now you’re getting it,” I said, with a congratulatory slap on the back.

“I’m every human being who ever lived?”

“Or who will ever live, yes.”

“I’m Abraham Lincoln?”

“And you’re John Wilkes Booth, too,” I added.

“I’m Hitler?” You said, appalled.

“And you’re the millions he killed.”

“I’m Jesus?”

“And you’re everyone who followed him.”

You fell silent.

“Every time you victimized someone,” I said, “you were victimizing yourself. Every act of kindness you’ve done, you’ve done to yourself. Every happy and sad moment ever experienced by any human was, or will be, experienced by you.”

You thought for a long time.

“Why?” You asked me. “Why do all this?”

“Because someday, you will become like me. Because that’s what you are. You’re one of my kind. You’re my child.”

“Whoa,” you said, incredulous. “You mean I’m a god?”

“No. Not yet. You’re a fetus. You’re still growing. Once you’ve lived every human life throughout all time, you will have grown enough to be born.”

“So the whole universe,” you said, “it’s just…”

“An egg.” I answered. “Now it’s time for you to move on to your next life.”

And I sent you on your way.

I stared sadly at the demon in front of me, then looked down.
He peered down at me, grinning. It was an ugly grin. It was curled unnaturally, and contorted his face.
"It's either your existence or hers. Choose one."

I either choose for my existence to be wiped out, or my mother's. One of us will die, no, disappear and never leave a trace. No more thinking, no more feeling, no more doing. It was a fate worse than death. Much, much worse than death.

She should be the one to disappear. Not me. I'll definitely choose her. Better her than me, right? Yeah. I'll choose her.

I finally turned to look at my mother at that moment.

She was frozen. She stared at me with wide eyes, a terrified look on her face. She didn't move at all. Just stared with those eyes. I imagines myself in her position. She knew I had considered her horrible fate. She knew I had to decide. She relied on me to keep her going. She knew that her existence would rely on my choice. Now, that I decide to rid of her, she will disappear. And she can't do anything to change that.

She started to smile, yet still held that terrified look in her eyes.
"He-he. He he! You-you're not thinking of getting rid of me, right? You'll...you'll find another way. We will. We'll both get out of this. Neither of us will be wiped out."

I looked at her sadly. "I don't think so."

The smile melted."W-what? What do you mean?"

I turned to look at the figure in front of me.

I remembered her quivering voice.

The demon's grin got even wider. "I think we have a winner."

I remember that scared smile.

I began to open my mouth.

Those terrified eyes. Eyes with fear from knowing their fate.

"I choose her."

He looked at me impatiently. "For what?"

...

For what?
I can still change my answer now.

...

"For disappearing."

"Then it is decided."

He turned to my mother, and raised a hand.

"No! No no no no no! Don't do aything to me! I did nothing. Don't kill me please! I'll-I'll do anything!"

I shook my head.

She tried to back away, and then stumbled. She was still trying to back away on the ground. Then she clumsily got up and staggered backwards.

She dissolved right then.

She turned into dust.

Just a messy pile of dust.

She was no more.

I just reread my past stories I made, it was beautiful. Anyway, I hope this thread would be more active. So I'll be posting short stories.

I hate body. its not that I'm fat. short, or different colored skin, its because my body is different. I thought it was normal at first but as the years goes by I realized that I'm different. its weird and abnormal. When I was in 5th grade, my friend found out about my secret. He told everyone about it and I was bullied for years. I moved to a different country, and transferred to a different school. But everyday I was anxious of anyone founding out my secret. I became antisocial introvert and a pessimist. I can't handle the pressure anymore. So this is my will. Before I die I want everyone to know what am I. I'm a..


























hermaphrodite.


lol, sorry I can't take this seriously. I was suppose to write something dark psychological story but I'm way too happy to ruin my day just because of that. Ohh well.. I promise I'll write a serious one next time.

"If its all the same to you, I'd like to see it one last time".
The shadow glances back at me.
"Your fate is inevitable". A distorted voice envelopes my ears. "I shall grant your final request".

I wake in a familiar place. "Yes, I can die in peace now". I say to myself with tears in my eyes absorbing all of my surroundings.
"I'll be back to see you again, I promise".

Bump

I didn't really think, she would go through with it. It was just a joke, after all. We were all just kids, in teen bodies. I swear, I wouldn't have intentionally hurt somebody, even if it was her.

I guess she was just tired. Tired of being made fun of, pushed around. She wasn't really well liked, and maybe it was just because we didn't want to like her, but even the grown ups couldn't bring themselves to like her.

But this day, she chose to try and prove something to us. Maybe, that she was more than the loser we had always called her. Anyways, she died. And that was the end.

Or so we thought.

It was a fine misty morning, with the sun hidden below the horizon, only letting a splash of orange paint spill onto the canvas of the sky. The picturesque world I saw from my vantage point shined in its own brilliance, marvelling at its own wonder, awed at its own awesomeness, and generally seemed to try and tell others that it was the best around. The low hanging fog enshrouded the trees before my eyes, blocking off all vision of the ground, creating green islands in a sea of white. The trees themselves weren’t very tall, being only middle aged trees, planted within the last century, and most likely were the type that went through generations of selected mutations to age slowly, slower than your average disabled tortoise.

I puffed out the long breath I was holding in. The white vapour gingerly dissipated, contributing what little it had to the great cause of the mist, but only after a few seconds of thought and contemplation. The rags I wore weren’t fit for this kind of winter activity, seeing how the loose clothing invited the winds to nestle in my bowels and stir up my previous night’s scarce dinner. It was not a pleasant experience, but still one I had to endure. I let the chilling air invade my lungs, the spiky cold stabbing the soft walls of my interior, reminding me why I held my breath in, for it was to let the air heat up inside me and to reduce the feeling that the world wanted me dead.

Lowering my barely covered body, I shivered as I sat on the not-so-welcoming outcrop that lay upon this little hill. Drawing my legs in, I curled up into a small ball, hoping to preserve the heat I gained and produced. With my eyes fixed towards the distant horizon, I anticipated whatever it was that was to come. That was my one and only job: to observe and watch. Vigorously rubbing and scrubbing one’s legs to make that tiny bit of friction was a brilliant past time on a cold morning. The more you rub, the more occupied you were from the biting winter, meaning that you noticed it less. Friction doesn’t cause much heat, it itself being rather scared of challenging a great foe named ice.

Rocking to and fro in my curled position, I was bored. Bored, bored, and bored. Not much other words can be used to describe my current state. I suppose one could use ‘in a mundane situation’ or ‘fucking cold’, but I personally think ‘bored’ takes the cake. While wondering whether a rocking chair would be useful out here (so I wouldn’t have to put energy into rocking myself), I noticed some stars twinkle in the corners of my eye. Glancing in that direction, I realized that stars couldn’t twinkle. It was rain. And probably hail and snow and a few other nuisances, but mainly rain. Rain was one of the few things that I couldn’t handle very well, other things being boredom and cold. The rain fell, pelting me from a distance that was ungraspable even by the most impressive of people, no matter how trivially it was to birds. At first, the hard and heavy drops hit me one by one, gently whacking me out of my comfort zone. Then the rain started to ignore that zone, and decided to just drop onto me. Water seeped through the one thin layer I garnered from others, washing some of the stains that permeated into the cloth. The damp thing clung to me like a baby to its mother: annoying, cold, and painfully. Wet hair fell over my eyes, blocking my vision for a mere second. I panicked. What if something happened during the time my sight was gone? Wouldn’t that mean I failed my duty? Quickly brushing it away, some of the irritating rain managed to needle its way into my left eye. I don’t think I’ve ever rubbed something as with as much vigour as I did with my eye, even rubbing my legs fell behind by a long shot. After opening both eyes, and covering the top with my fingers, I silently adjusted myself to my ever displeasing and ever changing environment, and watched.

Stupid thoughts flashed across my mind, lasting only a moment before it was beaten out of me by some idiotically large raindrop that landed on my mind. Cursing the all the rain gods that ever- existed, I felt my piety towards any faith greatly reducing at that moment. Thinkin- that praying might help, I mentally shut my eyes and spoke, “Oh mighty God, or whatever-your-name-was-again, I pray to you on this occasion to turn off any rain functions that you might’ve made for this world, for it is diluting my sense of humour at a rapid pace”. It didn’t lessen at all, maybe it even increased in intensity. “OH JUST STOP THE FUCKING THING ALREADY”. Praying obviously wasn’t an option, and I just earned an excuse to justify my lack of faith.

Staring at the soon to rise sun, my focus wandered for a second to the evergreen trees that were scattered in the field. As before, they stood tall against the rain, facing the tiny little army of water with its massive shield of bark. The things must be sturdy, sturdy enough to build walls out of, and not only that, they looked as if they were sketched onto the fog by how rough the edges of the leaves were. Returning my temporarily unfocused gaze, I remembered to let out my breath again. It was cold as always, but some rain entered my mouth and sated the little thirst that built up in me.

My eyes, I imagine, reflected the small amount of light from the sun, spreading some false warmth to my surroundings. I sat there, staring. Staring at the orange tint, staring at spread of luminescence. I stared, wavering every so and then, but I stared.



I opened my eyes, surprised at the story that the Lonely Watchman had to tell. It was surprisingly humorous, and exquisitely detailed for a sombre painting of this kind. The dark tones and gradients were spread everywhere, with only the tiny spot of orange on the side of the canvas being a bright colour representing the yet-to-rise sun. Amazed, I shook my head and walked off, I had already wasted enough time gazing within a picture.

Long ago There was an incident that forever would change my life.
It happened this morning actually. But even so, it changed my life forever. It's been a while since I picked up my board and actually used it. Not really though, I use it everyday, but it has been a while since I tried to do my signature trick. The "supreme gravity changing, air flowing, body enhancing sky jump," otherwise known to others as the "Ollie."

The sun was hot this morning. Everything was basically dying because of it. Nobody was outside of their houses, and if they were, it was because of, "the incident." There was no other reason (maybe there was, but that would be dragging away from the story I'm trying to tell). The "INCIDENT," (emphasis intended) was my doing. I was the only one in the neighborhood with my sweater on riding my skateboard on what would be called the hottest day in the world.

Anyways, I'll spare the important details and just skip to the end. Basically, people followed me and saw me land my... What did I call it? My "sky jump," the Ollie thing. Well, I succeeded and the people around me laughed in praise. This incident changed my life forever and. Lead to the start of my journey towards becoming the world's greatest skateboarder.

Wedding dress, for sale. Never worn.

>>54 Mind if I give you a cookie for that one? If not feel like you'd been given a cookie. Your story was really enjoyable! 👍