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The Halloween Festival; an event annually hosted by twelve selected schools, consisting of colleges and highschools. Eight out of Twelve of those schools had fallen victim to the 'suicide pact', as the police are referring to it as. This festival is one of the very things that brings multiple tourists to flawk towards their city (which is fictional by the way). A festival that is sponsored by a number of companies and they gain advertisement in exchange. A Festival that features a number of new artists, rather if they are performers or simply visual. There are games, merchandise, foods, costumes and plenty of people...

...but the thing that most people are fascinated in, is the Haunted House, which typically gains a great amount of publicity. The Festival lasts for four days, and officially starts tonight. Yesterday, most students were still in the last minute preparation stage.

The deadline is practically here which has a number of students involved in the preparation worried about how the schools that fell to the tragedy are going to reach their deadlines...

"For three years the festival has been a success..."

Many look forward to the last day, since that's when the biggest events are sure to take place. The day of Halloween. For others, the last day of the month is more of a deadline...the Drug-Dealer has to get back that money somehow...

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»» Mr.«« James Eric Parkerson
{The Serious}

Everything's so blurry; and everyone's so fake
and everybody's empty; and everything is so messed up
pre-occupied without you; I cannot live at all
My whole world surrounds you; I stumble then I crawl
You could be my someone: you could be my scene
you know that i'll protect you : from all of the obscene
I wonder what you're doing : imagine where you are
there's oceans in between us : but that's not very far

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"...last night another set of students were found attempting to commit suicide. This will be the eighth incident of this nature. They were students of StoneBell Highschool, the cause of death was by gun shot. It is still unknown who actually called nine-one-one, but one student did survive and is currently in intensive care--"

Jimmy's thoughts were cut short from the sound of the TV in the background when his cellphone suddenly rang. His instincts told him to keep listening, but then that voice that reminded him that he wasn't a detective anymore, pushed the thought away. So he tugged up the phone from the counter-top, snatching his attention away from the breakfast he was currently preparing for himself. Technically he didn't have to go into work until after two, but it was still a habit of his to keep rushing around as though he needed to be in the station first thing in the morning. He missed it, the sense of importance. Before, it wasn't even about his status. It was about getting crooks and criminals off the streets. It was about, as corny as it sounds, helping others. But now? He's just that guy who makes sure that the windows are washed, the trashcans aren't over filled and the carpet remains vacuumed. The bathrooms, were the things that brought out Jim's extremely negative side. It was then that he couldn't help but cuss under his breath. Sure he wasn't a neat freak, and messes didn't completely bother him, there was just something about toilets that other people had sat on, that got to him every time. It was disgusting.

"Yeah?" he answered, as he moved over to the stove, continuing to check the egg as it signaled whether or not it needed to be flipped or not. The TV was so in the background that he could hardly make out much of anything that was being said. "Jimmy," his younger sister had voiced, she was nineteen, and honestly wouldn't let him forget it. With the tone she was using, it was obvious that she was going to lecture him. Even she was doing it? "Maybe you should go talk to him?" As in him, she meant the chief of police, the very wishy-washy man who only cared about his image and arresting people. This wasn't the first time she had asked him, and yet the male never listened. For him it was always an excuse, because that's all the chief ever had for him anyways. "It's over and done with," he replied rather casually as he flipped the egg. "Who knows, maybe I can do something else---"

"Like what?! --- I'm sorry."

"Anything," he continued, "Don't you have a class to get to?" And without even waiting for a response, he hung up and blew out from his lips quite frustratedly. Though soon remembered he was cooking and took the egg out of the pan, it was already starting to burn slightly. At least it was crispier than he was hoping for. His eyes trailed over towards the clock, it was ten, so far he's been up for four hours, and yet he was still only dressed in a grey muscle shirt as well as his boxer shorts. Even though he dreaded going to work, part of him wanted it just be two o'clock so he could have it over and done with. He was just relieved he didn't have to clean the windows outside of the building. Jim, just didn't like extreme heights too much. Part of him wondered why he hadn't left it on his application when he turned it in. Maybe it was the fact that it was a weakness that bothered him. He didn't want to admit that he had any.

When he turned his attention towards the tv he noticed that they were no longer talking directly about the mysterious suicides, but more so just the festival as a whole. Suicide, Jim just didn't see why anyone would want to go through with it. Sure life could get pretty crummy, but it didn't mean you had to throw it away. It didn't take him long to eat, just as he didn't take too much time when it came to taking his shower. He was focused on getting out of the apartment, he just needed fresh air before he'd be confined to that building, expected to work long hours and be as quiet as possible. Nothing was more annoying than someone complaining that the vacuum is too distracting right after they complained that the little bits of fuzz on the carpet. Cleaning, simply continued to tell himself...he was not a maid. He got dressed in a dark green collared dress shirt, a black jacket and dark colored pants. He even tugged a black baseball cap on his head, which he personally didn't buy until after it hit him that he wasn't going back to his job. Shoe wise, he only had solid black sneakers.

Once he moved out of the apartment, and locked everything behind himself, he moved down the stairs, then out into the chilly air. From the way the sky looked, he wasn't sure if it was going to rain or not. Most likely a number of college students were hoping that it wouldn't. Though he didn't take much time to think about it, and instead started walking down the sidewalk, not bothering to deal with his car at the moment. When money is something you're just short on, then you can't help but start relying more on 'walking' as a hobby to help clear your thoughts. Only whenever he tried to clear his, he found himself just thinking more about what had happened...how could he have gone about it differently? Why did he care whether or not Carson wound up in the mental hospital or not? He remembered hinting towards the idea, especially when he saw what had happened directly after the killer died. It was...bizarre. Perhaps it was his conscience? He knew that Kyle had nothing to do with the deaths in the mansion...

Part of him wondered what had happend to that place. Was it still locked up? It was over a year ago that he even walked inside of those doors to look for clues. His curiosity was eating away at him, his desire to be useful. And yet he couldn't. This was simply one of those cases that he had to just believe that the department had under control, just the number of deaths so far...were getting serious. He found himself wondering if they would even have that festival this year. Then again, it might be past the refund period. Typically Jim didn't go to the festivals. His ex-girlfriend asked him to go to the one last year, to cheer him up about the officially 'unemployed' thing and rekindle their relationship that fell apart due to how constantly busy he was with the job he no longer had. But he put it off. That was when she told him she'd walk out of his life for good. Besides, it was awkward. On that ship he had all of those confusing thoughts...and then at Deziree's funeral, he found out something from one of her friends that she had admired him. Which brought back even more guilt, since he could've saved her. But he didn't.

One of Deziree's friends had asked him if he was going to the festival. He said he might, but once more he didn't know. Jimmy wasn't much of a festival/carnival/fair sort of person. As a child he absolutely hated the circus and didn't do well with amusement parks. Surely an excuse would pop up. Maybe his boss was going to force him to work late that day? But how can he manage to excuse himself from the entire thing? Sure he managed to do it the last two times, however another part of him figured that with how involved the students try to get the businesses and community, the event was going to be even bigger than before. Maybe his boss is sponsoring it as well? What if they gave him a float in the parade? It was definitely troublesome. The only decent thing about his new profession, he didn't have to worry about scoping out the scene for drugs, kidnapping, under-aged drinking, or anything of the like. He honestly hoped that his sister wouldn't attempt to drag him along.

{{OoC: Just edited the end part}}

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Everyone is changing; there's no-one left that's real
to make up your own ending; and let me know just how you feel
'cause I am lost without you; I cannot live at all
my whole world surrounds you; I stumble then I crawl
Nobody told me what you thought : nobody told me what to say
everyone showed you where to turn : told you when to runaway
nobody told you where to hide : nobody told you what to say
everyone showed you where to turn : showed you when to runaway

There's○Oceans○In»» BETWEEN «« Us○But○That's○Not○Very○Far
Twankiie's avatar

Dapper Fatcat

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When I see your smile
Tears roll down my
face I can't replace
And now that I'm strong I have figured out
How this world turns cold and it breaks through my soul


ρɪrɒη ҫɪɒηηɒ ʝόηєs


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                                                    With a soft inhale of the morning, the scent of smoke filled his nostrils. It wasn’t a bad kind of scent. Not like dinner that could have been burning or a house that was coming down. It didn’t smell like marijuana either. It was just the very, very plain smell that cigarette’s left behind after they’d been lit up. There was no way to hide it and Piran didn’t dislike that about them anymore. Waking up to this smell and the warmth of the body beside him was nice. He wished he could just stay snuggled up to whoever it was beside him all morning. Let’s call this person, Jamie. The detective felt himself curl up just a little bit more to the body as if to reject what he already kne was coming. His body, sad as it was, worked on a time schedule. Even though his clock hadn’t gone off yet, his body knew it would because it was around the time that he normally got up every day. His internal clock… Only good in case of power outages, otherwise, it was annoying. He would much rather that stay in the nice, warm, comfortable bed. Maybe even just for ten more minutes than normal. ’BUZZ, BUZZ, BUZZ, BUZZ!’ Right. There it was. The sound of the alarm, though he knew it was coming, still had enough of a shock to pull Piran’s eyes open. His body turned almost drastically to hit the top of the clock so the snooze button would be activated. A light groan came from his lips as he rolled back over to face the second body who was in his bed simply so he could snuggle up to it for ten more minutes. He wouldn’t be late if he just used ten more minutes.

                                                    As Piran curled over, his open green eyes caught an eyeful of the sun-kissed skin of the person he shared his bed with. His body slowly stopped as he was on his back and he stared up at the ceiling. ”No. Getting up now is probably the better idea.” He suggested to himself with a soft voice so he wasn’t to wake the male who sat in his bed. It wasn’t as if the detective had anything against this person and they weren’t bad looking. Considering Pai didn’t drink, he always had his pick while he was sober, so there weren’t any surprises in his be. Besides, who he had now was someone that he saw rather often. They weren’t dating or anything, but they would go out and do things like bars together and… this… yeah. Let’s pretend that he was mature enough to figure out that it was better for him to get up on time and get going than to lull himself back to sleep. Besides~ The sun would be coming up soon and he needed to be up to see that, right? The beginning of the day, better to not waste it away.

                                                    With that kind of thought on his mind, Piran pushed himself off of the bed so his feet met the ground and then pulled himself up to a stand. Should he have been alone, it would have been more of a bounce, but the raven-haired detective didn’t want to bother the other more than was necessary. His feet quickly scurried as he hurried himself into the bathroom, only to scurry back out with something that smashed into the walls of his mind. He ran back to the nightstand and turned the alarm clock all together so it wouldn’t beep on his guest. While he was there, Piran picked up his cell phone. It was very typical that the first thing the male would do every morning was check his phone. There was just one person that he looked for to message him every morning and even if that person changed their number, he figured that he would recognize a message from him. Especially if it was a voicemail. Every day so far for the last couple of months, there had been no successes, but that didn’t stop him from hoping that eventually… There were messages on his phone, but none of them were what he was looking for this morning. The raven haired detective slowly snapped his phone closed and laid it back on the nightstand before he headed back towards the bathroom. His walk was slower than the scurry from before. His shoulders dropped as did his head. There was a pause while he walked and his neck ran in a circle as though to stretch it out before he popped himself back into the bathroom. Piran went about his normal morning business such as brushing his teeth, using the toilet, and showering so he was nice and refreshed for work, in more ways than just his energy~.

                                                    Piran’s body stood under the fall of warm water. As it smacked against his back, his eyes fell down to the floor and his hand came to his lips as they started to tingle. All the suicide cases lately… they weren’t very helpful in forgetting that. It only brought some of the words once ushered by the mysterious, imaginated killer. How he only brought death to those that wanted to die. ”But to put him as the grim reaper is just silly.” He said to himself thoughtfully. He couldn’t help but start to smile from the very thought. He placed a black hood on the male. A black cloak—like the grim reaper! And a scythe! Chuckles started to drop out of Piran’s throat. ”And lightning—and organ music in the background!” His laughter grew just a little bit more as his hand came to his mouth to muffle the chuckles. Those were what kept him entertained apparently on this morning. The 21 year old flipped off the hot water and pulled himself out of the shower. Within minutes his body was dry, his hair was combed, and he was dressed professionally in slacks, a white dress shirt, a tie, and some suspenders. However that dress shirt of his wasn’t really… tucked in… at the moment. But it would get there! Eventually. Maybe…

                                                    The male detective ran a hand through his now clean and slightly damp. When he opened the bathroom door, he smelt something. Something that didn’t smell anything like hygiene products—unless hygiene items, and his specifically, had transformed into breakfast flavor… and had been able to make his skin sizzle. As Piran walked out of the bedroom in his apartment he entered the living space that had a dainty little kitchen attached that was clean as could be and in that kitchen stood none-other-than the sun-kissed, now half naked guest that Piran had actually left in bed before he ventured to get ready for work. What’s more, he was standing at the stove, cooking. The smell of French toast and warm syrup filled the air as Piran’s eyes grew large with his smile. ”Sammy! What a surprise you’re in the kitchen!” He said happily, nearly he squeaked before he ran towards the kitchen. As soon as he was close enough, he wrapped his arms around the large male’s waist. ”I didn’t know you could cook~” He said playfully as he gave the male a squeeze. ”I’ve never caught you before you’ve ran off.” His much deeper voice said as a small, modest smile came onto his tannish lips. With the spatula in one hand, he placed his free hand down to be on top of Piran’s left hand, his finger stroked the top of it lightly. ”Well I’m sorry I woke you up.” Piran said with a little laugh. ”It’s not your fault. It’s that damned alarm clock.” He said jokingly, though he was all very serious. Pai had been as quiet as a mouse. It was everything else that was around that was loud. ”Go ahead and sit down. Special service; a le breakfast’ll be ready in a minute or two.” Sam, the brunette stated. His hand picked up off of Piran’s in a permissive release before it took hold of the handle on the frying pan. ”I’ma look forward to it.” Pai stated happily before he took the exit, but on a sliding ball of his foot and turned away. He then walked to the living room with a flighty-type air to his step.

                                                    He entered the living room and plopped himself down on the couch. Another thing that he did every morning was watch the news, and that’s because there were no better informants at the moment over what he wasn’t allowed to investigate than the local news station who spared as few details as they possibly could. The detective picked up the remote and flickered the TV on. ”…Last night another set of students were found attempting to commit suicide. This will be the eighth incident of this nature. They were students of Stonebell Highschool, the cause of death was by gun shot. It is still unknown who actually called nine-one-one, but one student did survive and is currently in intensive care. The police have offered no comment on this strange going on and things aren’t looking good for the population of our city. In our next story, a dog in--” The TV shut off. Piran flicked it off when the story he had wanted ended. Sadly it seemed he caught the tail end of it, but still, something was better than nothing. ”I don’t understand… it doesn’t make sense why all these people, and especially college students would all be deciding to commit suicide now. And in groups. Tell me that doesn’t make sense to you either Sammy.” Piran said. His brows furrowed on his face as he thought about everything. All the facts that he’d picked up behind the chiefs back. All the places that had been involved in this scandal.

                                                    Sam walked over to where Piran sat on a little red couch. He placed the decorated French toast plates on the coffee table in front of the couch before he too sat down. ”…College is a stressful time. But seriously, I don’t believe you can handle all this negative stuff all the time.” Sam stated with a shake of his head. Piran smiled as he picked up his plate and looked at the other male. ”It’s a gift.” He stated as if he were more sure of that than anything else. Of course it was a joking seriousness. ”It’s gotta be.” Same replied with a shake of his head. Piran chuckled as he picked up his fork and cut a piece of toast off before he stuck it into his mouth. ”Mmm! This is delicious!” He explained with pure, pure genuine surprise which, mind you, Sammy could not believe. The rest of the breakfast went rather plainly. They discussed mostly normal things and laughed a little bit. After the breakfast was finished, Piran quickly took care of their dirty dishes while Samuel had gone to shower and clean himself up for the day while Piran said that he would go ahead and leave. He actually had to be at his job before Sammy and told the man that he’d talk to him later—because he probably would… eventually. And that was their relationship. They weren't dating, but they were friends... with benefits for both their own 'benefits'.

                                                    As Piran left his apartment and headed for the bus which he would take to work, he pulled out his cell phone from the messenger bag he always carried when going anywhere. It had all his important stuff in it and typically he knew he didn’t wear enough pockets to carry all the stuff he liked to have, ‘just in case’. With his phone in his hands and his feet carrying him to the bus stop nearby, he opened up his contact list. He scrolled down until he came “das Gespenst”, or in other words, his partner, the suspicious. And he wrote him;

                                                    ’Morgen! You
                                                    remember, we’re meeting
                                                    for the Halloween thing tonight!
                                                    It's a great chance for us to
                                                    get information.
                                                    you’ll have to be my date
                                                    since we’re not allowed to be
                                                    xoxo Pai’

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxThe Playful

I will never let you fall
I'll stand up with you forever
I'll be there for you through it all
Even if saving you sends me to heaven
Modeling, For Your Pleasure

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Charlotte XOXOX Sittrine XOXOX Farris

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXI want to swim away, but don't know how
XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOSometimes it feels just like I'm falling in the ocean
XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOLet the hurricane set in motion, yeah
XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOLet the rain of what I feel right now come down


Starting with a jerk, Charlotte had to stifle a scream as she awoke. Her eyes wandered the glaringly bright white walls around her, stopping as they reached the hospital bed beside her. The tears that had welled up at the memory of her dream slowed as she looked at the boy curled there. She took a death breath, trying to calm herself. Though it was true that the young babysitter, Christie, had died that night, the possible death of her son had not occurred, despite its numerous entries into her dreams. Of course, the fact that so many of the deaths that occurred in her dreams seemed to come true made it hard to feel any better with him lying there next to her. For all she knew, it wasn't over yet. A hand reached out to her, small smile touching the boy's lips as he touched mommy's shoulder. "Love you, mommy. Don't cry." A laugh like bells escaped her lips as he spoke to her, a new burst of tears touching her cheeks. Ironic how him telling her not to cry would bring tears of happiness to replace those of sadness. "Just a bad dream, Alex. Mommy's happy now. How are you feeling?" He smiled, that cute little smile that always melted her heart. She hated seeing him in this room, unable to go out and play like he so loved to do. He had just started school, and now he was stuck here, unable to go and be with the friends he had only just started to make. "Okay, just hungry." She knew the nurse would be in soon to check up on him, checking his vitals and making sure everything was still where it should be. She also knew the woman would bring him food not long after that. Charlotte was not supposed to bring him anything without consulting the doctors first, and it was killing her. She wanted to bring him things like French Toast and Pancakes for breakfast... not this eggs and ham, toast and jam. He ate them happily enough, but wasn't her baby boy laying in a hospital bed bad enough without being unable to have the things he really enjoyed?

She didn't have long before she would have to go, having too many other things to attend to. She hated being tugged away from this place for other things to often, hated not being able to spend every waking moment with her little one. He would understand, though. He always did. And, of course, grandma would be here later to keep him company. She was getting too old to be able to sleep in these hospital chairs, but she still spent all the time she could with her little grandbaby, waiting for him to get better when mommy couldn't. Charlotte stood from the chair, stretching a bit before she leaned over Anexander, kissing his forehead. "Mommy has to go, little prince. You just hit the button and tell them you want mommy if you need me, okay? I'll be here right away." He nodded, like he always did, and hugged her tight with those little arms. He was so strong. Why did they have to keep him here for so long? They kept saying he was fine, that he was recouping without any trouble, and yet they insisted he needed to stay a little longer, just to be sure.

Charlotte grasped the black shawl she'd draped over the back of the chair in which she'd been sleeping, handing it to Anexander before she left the room. Her mother had told her that he always took it from the chair anyway, and was usually found sleeping with it around him, or snuggling with it like some sort of stuffed animal when she was gone. He would ask about her when she was gone, and he always inquired to make sure she wasn't crying. Charlotte knew she was blessed to have such a sweet boy as her son. Heels clacked in her wake as she made her way out of the hospital, asking the nurse to bring Anexander a jello cup with his breakfast this morning. It was always obvious that the woman didn't think sweets were the best breakfast treat, but she did it anyway, and that was all that really mattered to Charlotte. So long as the woman did what was needed to keep Anexander healthy, and didn't argue when Charlotte asked something additional of her that wouldn't put him at risk, they wouldn't have any problems.


Back at home, Charlotte tossed the jeans and sweater she'd worn to the hospital upon the floor of her bedroom. If it wasn't for her mother coming by to check up on her from time to time, she probably wouldn't even keep the place clean with how things were right now. She rarely had people over to her home, preferring to keep her meetings and parties in other locations rather than risking any further drama in addition to what already plagued her life. Bare feet carried her into the bathroom, slender fingers turning the knobs to bring hot water rushing forth from the faucet. A little cold to bring the temperature down, and she dropped the stopper into place. Waiting for the tub to fill, she washed away the faded makeup that touched her cheeks and eyes, staring at her naked face in the mirror. Her lack of sleep was starting to show with a darker ring beneath her eyes. Lucky that she was as good with makeup as she was, it was easy enough to hide from everyone else. With the tub full, Charlotte shut off the water and dropped herself under the water filling the basin. She closed her eyes as she lay back, an unexpected nap stealing a decent chunk of the time she had left to get ready.

"s**t!" Grabbing her keys and small handbag, Charlotte rushed out of the house after glancing at the kitchen clock. Why had she let herself fall asleep? The door was quickly shut and locked behind her, and suede black boots carried her quickly to the car resting in her driveway. She hated running late because it meant she had to rush around to make sure she got to places on time. Getting out of her neighborhood as quickly as possible, she started off toward the agency. She had promised to come in today to help get the finishing touches done on the line she would be modeling next week, and knew Jason would be more than a little perturbed if she was late for this one, especially with the price they were paying. Oh how he loved reminding her that her name brought in the money now, and how ruining her reputation with late arrivals and moody days wouldn't help with any of her other issues. She knew he was just trying to help, but he didn't have to be so harsh about it all the time. She could only hope that damned Drama Queen wasn't hanging around waiting to ruin her day.


So, she'd gone a little over the speed limit. No one had caught her. Did he have to keep on about it? "You were going to be late again, weren't you? My god, Charlotte. Just call me next time, and I'll get something worked out! I know you want to spend time with him, but we need to look into getting you something to help with your sleeping. It's killing you! And you're not going out again tonight, are you? You really need to get some rest!" A sigh escaped her lips. "The first night of the festival is tonight, Jason. You know I told some of my classmates I would at least check it out. I told you that last week." She could hear him trying not to yell. "You're still going to that? Charlotte, you have got to get some rest. You can't keep going out all the time just to turn around and spend your nights in the hospital... especially with the lack of rest you get even when you are sleeping lately. Oh, don't think your mother didn't tell me about that." 'Damnit, mom...' "I'm fine, Jason. I'll be inside in just a moment. Just make sure everything is ready." <clack>

Dropping her phone into the handbag she'd brought along, Charlotte looked down to make sure the silken gray tank wasn't too wrinkled, and the slimming black skirt wasn't twisted. Satisfied, her black suede boots carried her into the large office building with a forced, yet seemingly real, smile curling her lips. She didn't even have to introduce herself before the receptionist was reminding her of what floor she was expected on. She really hated these bigger Designers. Their employees always had such a sense of self-righteousness, they were impossible to even say 'hello' to, much less hold a conversation with.

Elevator chiming in that excited little tone as she reached the fourth floor, Charlotte stepped out onto a soft crimson-black carpeted floor. The walls were black, and the windows covered in shear, red curtains, barely allowing the bright sun to peek its rays into the room. Her smile turned real as Mr. Frescha approached, arms spreading to embrace her as she stepped into the room, a quick kiss aimed at her cheeks leaving her feeling welcomed. "Charlotte, dear! You look amazing. I feel bad you're already so well dressed, and I have to go covering you in these rags," he joked, Charlotte knowing he took much more pride in his designs than all that. After all, if they were rags, the building she stood in right now would not exist. And here came Jason. His stern look melted as she stuck a playful tongue out at him. A roll of his eyes and the graying man was wrapping her in his arms. "I wish you'd stop trying to give me heart attacks, Farris. Your mother is going to strangle me." A light kiss on his cheek and Charlotte took a step back. "If you didn't worry so much..."

This is where she thrived. She could forget the world when she was surrounded with these people who cared about nothing more than making her look beautiful for this little while. She was wrapped in one dress after another, a skirt followed by majestic tops. She couldn't help but notice, as they went through the pieces she would be wearing, that some of them did not fit with the line she would be modeling next week. When she gave Jason a questioning glance, he only smiled and winked at her. She knew Mr. Frescha had liked her look in his designs, but had had no idea how much. From what she could tell, he already had plans for putting her in another line before this one was even done!


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You're broken, so am I
I'm better off alone
No one to turn to and nothing to call my own
Outspoken, so am I
Explosive words that your world wouldn't understand
Turn away again

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Kenneth: If I was superman, I'd never touch the ground

Ken hadn't slept. Because although he now had time to sleep, he just couldn't close his eyes. What sucked about this was that he had an amazing bed. Like an amazing bed. It was a king size, it had the whole down feathers. Five pillows. It was made to make you sink in, to become the bed. And god, he could use it. For he just, every now and then he wanted to dissappear. He wanted to sleep so badly. It was just, he could not remember the last time he had felt rested. That he had been able to lie down within this bed and just for a moment rest. For a moment, forget. Just, forget and sleep. To be swept in the arms of sleep would be so great. And yet, even though he had this amazing bed ... he couldn't.

Now before we get all weird, this was not to do with guilt. This had nothing to do with (well what most society would figure) his love for his sister was wrong. Not that it mattered now, did it? She was gone. Forever. There wouldn't be another day that he would reach for her hand and she would take it. She would never smile or scream or cry. She was nothing but dirt in that ground. God, he had loved her so much and in an instant she was gone. He hadn't even seen if he was truly forgiven. Oh how he wished that he was truly forgiven. He wanted her to pat him on the head and tell him that she loved him. He wanted her love. He wanted to hold her in his arms and to have her listen to his steady heart beat. he had done so much for her. He had given up so much for her. He had given up his soul, practically, so that whatever she wanted he could get. If she wanted the moon you best believe Ken would find a way.

And now, she was gone. Just gone. He was now officially alone. There was nobody who would care if he died. Nobody that would cry if he jumped off a building. Nobody cared about him anymore. He had had one person in this world. God he had had this person who had been his family, his joy. And she was gone. Just, gone. And he had tried to forget it. To get over it. He had had those two weeks to get over it. And yet, he had spent it in this apartment that smelt like her. This apartment where she had basically half of it to herself so that she would get her own television room and her own washroom and her own bed room. He had just walked down the hallways, checking in her room as if she would be there. As if she would be there and apologize for running away. And he would just simply give a nod and tell her that its fine, she had every right but he was glad she was home. And yet, this lie .... he just, held onto. Every now and then he could hear her voice. He could hear her say Ken. And although he should just forget, he couldn't. He was haunted by her. She was a ghost in this apartment.

And so he couldn't sleep. For every time he closed his eyes he could see her. He could see her when she was alive. He could hear her whisper good night to him as she went to her room. He could see her in her last moments when she had said that she wanted him back. And then in a flash he could see her dead body, practically torn asunder. He could see the blood. He could feel it. And it always ended with the question 'why couldn't you save me?' ... and it was a good question. He was her brother. He was suppose to protect her from everything. He was suppose to scare away all those monsters under the bed and in the closet to the ones that were people that wanted to hurt her. He was suppose to save her. He was suppose to be strong and older. He had become a cop for her. He had taken bribes for her. Everything was for her. And now that she was gone, he felt like he just should have died too. For without everything, what do we have? nothing. He was nothing.

Let's also not forget that lovely email from an unknown sender that simply states 'I haven't forgotten' ... and yet he didn't know who it was from. Was it her ghost saying she hadn't forgotten all the wrongs he had done. Had she not forgotten the cameras? The digital DVDs which was really all he had left of her. He had re-watched them all when he had come back with his two weeks off. Had she not forgotten and forgiven her? Or was it someone else? He had wronged so many. And so his brain was just screwed. He couldn't sleep without her. When she was gone. When these emails haunted him like her ghost did. Her ghost arms around him, her voice in his head. Screams.

And so he didn't sleep. Again. He just stayed there, sitting listening to the whispers. He stood up as he walked to the washroom to take a shower. HE washed his hair. He cleaned off all his body. He then got out and dried off. And the, well this was the fun part of his morning routine. He put on tattoos so that he looked a little bit more tough. He had so many fake tattoos but it gave him the edge of being well, a bad cop. Someone who was now friends with the drug dealer. And so it gave him something to do. He put the ones on his left arms before starting on the right as he watched the television screen. He then put the ones on his stomach up to his throat that had this thorns around it. He looked at his hand and began on the ones that well let's just say a cuss word. He then went to the closet and he took a blue shirt. He put it on and then a pair of jeans. He ruffled his hair a bit letting it fall naturally.

Ken then went to his kitchen as he got a bowl of cereal. He ate it as the television just showed the news. He flipped it to music videos. He ate his cereal. As he did he just turned up the volume to drown out the voices in his head. He then finished it. He put the bowl in the dishwasher and took a glass of orange juice. He stood there, staring at the hallway that lead to her room. Just staring at it, as if she would run up to him. Not anymore. Nobody would run to him. He then sighed as he knew what he needed. Starbucks. People. Even dark or destructive people. He then gulped down the orange juice as he put it in the dishwasher. The pratically empty dishwasher since it was just him now. He went to the bathroom and he brushed his teeth. The boy then went to his car and drove to Starbucks drive thru.

He got himself a mocha. He took a sip and drove to the Timmy Marcus Allaman's apartment. Also known as the drug dealer. He sighed as he stared up at it. He then went up the stairs and knocked on the door "Yo, Timmy. Are you in yet? It's Ken"

You're beaten, so am I
I've got a heart of stone
No medication can draw what has taken hold
You're hurting, so am I
When I awaken, remember why I've been running from your
T H E drug♦♦dealer


      I'M JUST A KID CALLED Timmy Marcus Allaman
      ♦♦ but I got dubbed, Pretty Boy in my gang

      xx xx xx so leave us alone
        when we're riding high
                  mister police
      xx xxain't hurting no one
      xx xx xx
      xx xx xx
      A fly buzzed annoyingly around the males ears, his hand waved sleepily above his head and his face buried deeper into the pillow. The blanket was sprawled over his body, Timmy only wore his boxers to his bed and his back was totally uncovered. A note of his restlessly sleep and he groaned. The fly wouldn’t leave him alone. “Bugger off!” He yawned as he waved his hand over his head again and then rolled over to face the roof. A crease was in his forehead. Three nights of bad sleep and it wasn’t just cause. There had been no girls in his bed, no booze soaked nights and not a lot of parties. An amount, Timmy rather not imagine, of merchandise was stolen from right under his nose. How? He can barely remember. But his boss called him the other day. Wanted to know where the money was and Timmy diverted it, told his boss he was still selling it and he’d give the money when it was all sold. Far from the truth, but his boss took it. Sooner or later his boss would figure it out, for now, Timmy was just trying to act as normal as possible while his cousin was around. They lived together and it’d been fine. Timmy hid his job easy, but lately there more calls to his phone and he dodged most of them. Maybe his cousin didn’t notice. Timmy hoped so.

      Slowly he pulled himself up and out of bed, another yawn from his lips. There was a second as he gazed over his room. Clothes were sprawled over the floor and cupboards. The only thing that stood out was the safe that sat in the corner. Metal and with a keypad. That was supposed to hold the money while he waited to give it to the boss. It also held a gun, black and loaded with ammo already. Timmy didn’t carry it on him unless she was going somewhere he considered dangerous. A dark alley or a party in the bad part of town. Finally the male stood up off his bed, and walked across to the safe. He didn’t know, but he suddenly like it was too out in the open. The safe itself was heavy as he lifted it then moved it to the bottom of his wardrobe. He closed the creaky door of his wardrobe and nodded. He felt better now. It wasn’t there for everyone to look at. As he left his room, he glanced down to the front door, the door was locked, dead bolted and then three chains were slide across. He didn’t like to take risks, all of them were done up. It didn’t seem like his cousin was up yet, but he didn’t exactly look for her. They lived together, sure. She was family and he would look after family. But lately he just wished she’d move out. For her own safety. If she found out her was dealing, he’d have to do something and he didn’t want to.

      Timmy wandered into the kitchen and began to scour the fridge, he found himself the milk and then placed it on the bench. He always left his cereal on the bench, the colourful boxes were fun to stare at and they had games on the back. The male poured out a fair amount of his cereal then glanced in the box. “Man, out again” He said disappointedly then lifted to box near his ear and shook it, like he used to as a kid on Christmas. The only sound was the few pieces left inside and the plastic. “I hope Jamz didn’t want any” He talked to himself a lot, a habit grown from living alone but he barely noticed. The milk was poured in and then he found himself a spot on the couch and turned the television on. The news was boring, so he flicked it to cartoons and just as he slumped back comfortably in the couch there was a knock at the door. He heard his friend voice and leant back to look at the door. “I’m here. Be quiet, Jamie’s still asleep!” He shouted back, defeating the purpose of not waking his cousin.

      Ken was cool, he had amazing tattoos and Timmy enjoyed the male company. The other seemed normal compared to Timmy. He didn’t have bad men over his shoulder and drugs under his bed. As far as Timmy knew anyways. The male placed his bowl on the coffee table and hurried to the door before Ken had the urge to knock again. Timmy slide the three chains back, then unlocked the rest of the locks he insisted on having on the door. Timmy was paranoid about someone breaking in and violating his place. Or worse. He tugged the door open roughly then nodded at Kenneth. “Aye. We have to be quiet, my cuz is still out I think” Timmy explained as turned on his heels, leaving the door open for Ken and headed for his room. He didn’t know exactly if his cousin was still home, he just guessed. It was easier to say she was. He didn’t want to be the reasons he had a bad nights sleep and woke up too early.

      I’m gonna chuck some clothes on. TV’s on. Make yourself at home” Timmy said as he thumbed toward the direction of the television and ducked into his room. The male found some denim jeans that were reasonably clean. He tugged the pants up and fiddle with the zipper and button to do them up. The male wasn’t exactly shy, his door was wide open as he pulled his pants on, but he didn’t like to leave anyone in his room unattended. People poked around. There was a safe in his wardrobe now and a suitcase with lock under his bed with a little less drugs then he should have. It was tucked in the far corner, in a backpack. He was glad there was a lock on it. A small 4 numbered pin.

      xx xx xx xx xx xx xx xx xx xx the city's asleep
      xx xx xx xx xx xx xx xx xx xx xx xx xxand the world is mine
      xx xx xx we hide and go seek xx xx xx
      User Image
      xx x and you know they'll never, ever, ever find usxx x
I know some shits so hard to swallow//And I just can't sit back and wallow- In my own sorrow//

Tяєɳтσɳ Zαcɧαяץ Cαvєs
S U R V I V O R // V I C T I M
The Popular
But I know I'll be one tough act to follow//Here today, gone tomorrow//

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The day had started off early for Trenton Caves, but then again, it was a week day- so the teen was trained to force himself up for school. Wednesday to be exact, the day that started off the Halloween Festival. He had attended the years prior, whether it was just the first and last day of the event- like he did last year- or the full four days, which he did the two years before that. The major difference this year was that he was on the committee to help with the preparations. At first he was excited about the fact that his college was one of the selected schools, not only that, but got to help with the haunted house. He had always been curious to see how everything worked in there, not to forget the fact that he would get to scare the crap out of people for fun. That was the point people had to remember though; this whole festival was suppose to be fun. As long as every kept to the program and there weren't any unexpected speedbumps- like the fact that over half of the schools involved decided to do mass suicides- then everything would be fine. That meant no more mass suicides, attempt at murder, or shooting in general.

It wasn't as if the teen had forgotten about the bullet he had to take up on that stage those many months ago. How could he? Sure, if it hadn't been for the fact that he had been holding onto Kyle- somewhat using him as a shield- then who knows how many more hits he would've taken. Did he feel guilty? Only slightly, but then again, it wasn't like the Gamer died. Besides, the b*****d deserved it in Trent's mind. Feeling the area of his shoulder that use to hold the wound, there was no pain; there was only a small scar left. 'Let's hope that never happens again,' he thought to himself as he had exited the shower, grabbing his towel. As he dried off then started dressing himself, he couldn't help but wonder if it was truly wise to be on the committee...on Halloween, even though he knew that someone was out to kill his best friend. Yeah, he was going to take it that far to say it was attempt at murder. It wasn't like he would believe for a second that the Party-Animal would actually try to commit suicide. Even if lots of high-schools and colleges were doing it, the guy had too much to live for. He was attractive and was known for knowing how to party hard. It just wouldn't make any sense for someone the through all of that away.

So it had to be someone at the party, someone that the other had been alone with, who shoved him out the window. 'That barely narrows it down,' he thought to himself as he brushed his teeth. The teen wasn't even sure if he knew everyone who was there because it was of those parties were you invite people and tell them to invite their friends, who invite more friends. "This would've been easier if he would wake up already," Trent groaned to himself, since who better to find out who the guy was with before the window incident than the actual person? It just really sucked since he knew that his friend had only thrown that party in the first place to cheer him up. If he hadn't seemed liked anything was bothering him, then his buddy would've been conscious today. Honestly, why couldn't he have just kept his thoughts to himself? This was suppose to be a new beginning for him, yet all of the skeletons in his closet kept slipping out. The feud with him and Bishop was suppose to be buried, yet it seemed to resurrect when craziness about his parents worrying more about the name of their company, rather than their own child

It was this feeling of personal responsibility that made him want to find out who exactly did this. However, he knew for a fact that he would be making a trip to the hospital today. It would just have to be after he checked in with the festival details. Sure, there was no guarantee that his friend would wake up yet, but there was always the chance. It was a fact that he clung to since he didn't want to lose another friend. You could say that he had bad luck when it came to keeping the people closest to him safe. First Willow- his tutor back in high-school- and then Bazzler- even though his could be a nuisance to some- but the more recent one was Bishop- the transfer student who he use to hate but stopped after a while. Trent was simply afraid to be told about another funeral of someone he personally knew.

Heaving a sigh, Trent combed his fingers through his bangs to sweep them to the side of his face. He gave himself a quick look-over in the mirror, making sure that his silver snakebites were fine, and that his face didn't have any traces of sleepiness left on it. He smoothed out the blue and blue designer tee that he wore then buttons his dark wash jeans. Simple white socks were visible only momentarily for he walked out of the bathroom and stepped into his sneakers. His cellphone, wallet and a pack of gum were stuck in his pockets while a necklace was clipped around his neck. No, it wasn't the same one that became so known back in high-school. That one, that Rebecca Palmer had designed was never worn again by the male once she died. It brought too much of an eerie feeling to come over him. That was why he had hurled it into the ocean so he would never have to look at it again. Yet it was quickly replaced by a different designer piece. The last thing that was grabbed was a black and grey zip-up hoodie, which was only zipped up half way.

He knew that there wasn't going to be actual work assignments or tests today, since this week and the one prior had been mainly spent on preparations for the festival. The fact that today was the beginning of the four day course only meant that the deadline was up, and that we needed to check out the actual site to make sure everything was going according to plan. The only thing Trent took with him to the committee room, which was simply one of the large classrooms, was a notebook and pencil. They had to go over all of the assigned jobs for the haunted house, rechecking the costumes, running over the guidelines, as well as safety precautions, etc. It was a lot of information that the eighteen year-old jotted down or underlined, however his mind still wanted to drift. The fact that one of his peers around him could have been the one who put his friend in a coma was eating at him. He stopped trailing his blue eyes around the room only to slip his cell out from his pocket, holding it under the table so he could thumb in a text message to The Clueless. She was his friend's girlfriend after all, and he figured that if he was going to make a trip down the the hospital, then she should be invited to come along as well. 'Then again, it wouldn't surprise me if Maddie was already there,' ran though his thoughts. It was kinda said that she was so dense that she couldn't see that she was being played, but hey, it wasn't his place to tip her off.

Are u heading 2 the
hospital today? If u're
not already there I can
give u a ride later on.

Yes he was lazy when it came to texting, but then again, as long as the message got across then everything was good. It was already ten o'clock now, meaning it wouldn't be terribly long until he could get a break, and hopefully a response by then. This fact caused the corner of his lips the raise as he slipped the phone into the pocket of his hoodie for easier access. Then, a thought suddenly hit him. What if she was the one who had shoved The Party-Animal out of the window? If she realized that he didn't even like her, then that could have given her reason, right? Sure, he doubted that the police who questioned them about the incident would have suspected her if the relationship was going good, but it wasn't like Trent went around spreading the fact that he knew his friend wasn't faithful. 'But that would mean her actually tuning into reality,' he thought to himself as he lightly bit at the back of his left snakebite. He silently scoffed at himself for thinking that she would actually believe the rumors. If she didn't believe them before, what would make her start now? Right? So he shouldn't jump too far to conclusions. Yet that only meant he was back to square one.

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But you have to walk a thousand miles in my shoesXXXXXXX

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXjust to see what it's like to be me || I'll be you, let's trade shoes

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXjust to see what it'd be like to || Feel your pain, you feel mine

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXgo inside each other's mind || just to see what we find

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXLook at s**t through each other's eyes
You're broken, so am I
I'm better off alone
No one to turn to and nothing to call my own
Outspoken, so am I
Explosive words that your world wouldn't understand
Turn away again

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Kenneth: It's only a Line if its bought

Patience is a virtue, have it if you can, seldom in a woman never in a man. This could not be any more true than it was with Ken. He possessed none. He just wasn’t a virtuous person in the sense of written virtues. He stared at the door. Ken lifted his hand when he heard a loud voice announce that indeed Tim was home. And Jamie was asleep. Was it that early? Ken went to his pocket, took out his phone to see the time. He had not had a watch since he was thirteen. Just, why bother when you can use a phone? He shrugged, figuring that Jamie just might be a late bird. He then soon wondered if Jamie was still home. But that didn’t seem to be the point. He was on time, well as much as one could be when there really was no written itinerary. A sort of double edged sword with drug dealers. Its one of those, there is no set time except the one in their heads. Annoying if you were a time oriented person.

Thankfully, Ken wasn’t. He never was really big on time. He had a general idea of when he had to be at a place during a certain time…but well, it wasn’t written in stone. He felt that this made him easier to get along with. Or he felt it did. Plus out of all the drug dealers that Ken had come to known, Timmy was by far the most interesting. And probably one of the nicest. Let’s be honest, Ken had to run away from one who threatened him because he stole a little bit of money. When he needed money. He didn’t really need money anymore because there was nobody to buy things for. Ken didn’t need anything. He had his clothes, his weapons, his food. Really what was there to buy? Nothing. And so he decided to take one job rather than seven. Just one undercover job. Which he was glad that he got to work undercover to get to know Timmy. For the other, well, he was very mellow.

Then came the click. Scratch that. He was paranoid and mellow at the same time. A weird combination. He just liked that mystery about him though. He had this whole aura of a relaxed guy but every now and then a small habit broke up. Like the, what? Ten million locks on the door. Which Ken supposed made sense, you wouldn’t wish for someone to steal your drugs or for cops to easily break down the door. So it was a reasonable paranoia. But still, Ken found it just … hilarious. Like the ha ha, laugh and shake head type of funny. Soon the door was opened and the other repeated himself. Ken took a sip of his mocha as he gave a nod and chuckled “Understandable. Wouldn’t wish to wake her. Girls are vicious if you wake them up too early. My sis, Ophelia, she would become this demon if you ever woke her before noon”

Not that he ever had to wake her up early again. Not like she was going to go to school or anything anymore. His heart stung a bit. Yeah, wait to go Ken…had to relate. Stupid, he shouldn’t have brought her up. But well what can one do? He had a strong chauvinistic belief that girls needed protection. No matter what type of girl you were, you needed to be protected. Some called it chivalry while others called it chauvinistic. If Barney Stinson actually existed he would call it neither for according to the bro code, if girls insist on having their own basketball team then they should be able to open their own doors. But Ken, well, he was old school that way. He just felt that Timmy keeping an eye on his cousin was honourable. Something that Ken could understand. Completely. He then heard what he was going to do as he just said “Cool, I’ll see what’s on”

The raven haired cop went to the couch as he sat on the couch. He took the channel changer and flipped through the cartoons till he found a Batman one and began to watch it. Still, Batman was his favourite superhero. For he was a guy. A Regular run of the mill guy who could get shot and hurt. But he still went out there and he fought crime. He then lent on the couch as he put his feet on the small table. He would have continued to have a conversation but well … the guys cousin was asleep. No need to wake up the adventurist. He watched the show intensely as he cheered for batman in his head.

You're beaten, so am I
I've got a heart of stone
No medication can draw what has taken hold
You're hurting, so am I
When I awaken, remember why I've been running from your
Mιcɧєє Sαbяιɳα Lαsкץxxx
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Nothing travels faster than light...

...with the possible exception of bad news...

...which follows its own rules.

      Michelle was late waking up due to the fact that she was up rather late the night before. No, it wasn't that she was trying to go out to party on a Tuesday night, but more so because she was busy reviewing over the data she had collected about the recent suicides that had been going on. No matter how many times she looked at it, she had a pretty good feeling that she was still missing something, which completely sucked. Yes, she caught the link that all of the victims were either in high-school or college, but there was more. Some people were trying to pin it off as teen angst, yet that was boring in the reporter's mind. Honestly, there was way more to it than that, and she knew that the police department probably knew about it. Micky figured that there had to be a way to sneak information out from them, but it wasn't like they didn't already recognize her face from all of the previous times she snooped around there.

      The twenty year-old figured that until the police made had a big press conference with something other than 'We're doing the best we can and will keep you informed as we make breakthroughs on this case', then she could probably try to get a story published. Besides, she knew that when that line was used for press conferences, it meant that they either knew nothing, or wanted to keep what they knew under wraps while seemingly like they had the public's best interest in mind. So why not give the public what they really wanted- which was a juicy story. After all Michelle knew that was the type of news she was interested in. And what would be more interesting than a huge conspiracy story? It was perfect in her opinion, which is why she was up so late. She knew what she wanted to say, but it wasn't flowing on her laptop the way she wanted to. The majority of the night was spent staring at a word document that only had one sentence printed on it, a sentence that was rewritten multiple times. She blamed it on that stupid writer's block that she caught. In the end, she wound up calling it a night around three in the morning, simply outlining the fact that she wanted to say that the professors and teachers probably had something to do with it. She didn't know how she wanted to word it, but if the authority figures were weeding out all of the bad students, then their school over all gpa would increase.

      Micky simply hoped that all of the late nights of getting nothing done would end soon. If anyone, she blamed the mean guy who kept criticizing all of her work. Honestly, she would find out who he was, and then see how he liked it when someone was quick to call his writing crap. That was actually the first thought that came to mind as she groggily slid out from underneath her covers. "He's sooo going down when I find a picture of him." she mumbled to herself as she ruffled back her brownish-blonde strands that fell almost mid-back. She figured that if she could get a legitimate picture of him, then she could use Craig's expertise in the photoshop field to her advantage to embarrass the jerk. There were a number of possibilities, and frankly, they were a lot easier to execute when she didn't have to do everything by herself. The Cameraman was way better than that photographer that she tried getting to work with her previously. Seriously, first the girl avoids her, and then wound up getting herself killed. Talk about unreliable.

      She figured that if she had Craigs help back on the crazy cruise ship, then she would have been out of her crummy apartment by now. A penthouse sweet could have her name on it, or at least her name be known to the entire city since who doesn't remember their reporting news anchor's name? Yep, she figured that if things had turned out differently, then she could have her dream car by now, and perhaps she could have a real pet, instead of pretending to have one. "But then I'd have to clean up after it," she said to herself as a look of disapproval came across her face. Dogs were cute, but she didn't want to go through the hassle of training them. "Ooh, unless I can become so rich that I can hire someone to do that," she realized as she pulled out a bowl for some instant apple-cinnamon oatmeal. She liked the fact that the little packets only took some water and a minute to cook, which was good for her since she didn't care for fumbling with cooking

      Michelle was pretty much out of it for a while longer as she readied herself for the day. She wasn't even sure were she was going until she caught sight of the calender on the refridgerator. 'Oh crap-it, that was today?' she thought to herself as she couldn't help but bite at her bottom lip. Michelle knew that the festival was going to be this week, but it she didn't realize how fast the beginning of the week went by. She was going to definitely have to make sure that Craig didn't was going to bring his camera to the event. Surely something big was going to happen there, the reporter would bet on it. No, she wasn't going to be going to cover the televised event like a number of news stations would be, but she wanted to get the moment when things started to fall apart. With the fact of so many deaths with the schools helping with the festival, she knew that there were probably some corners that the cut in order to meet their deadlines. And then there was always the chance that someone would be trying to kill themselves during the parade. At least she figured if she was even going to kill herself, she'd want it televised- not that she would ever want to do that. So either way, she had a pretty good feeling that a fabulous story was going to be made. "Hopefully that'll get rid of this icky writer's block," she sighed as she grabbed the milk jug so she could pour herself a glass.

      After making her breakfast, she wanted to make sure that her cameraman was aware that they had plans today. And if he already was planning something, then he would simply have to reschedule it for later. This was important after all. Besides, Micky figured that as long as she helped him get back at the mean girl who crushed him back in high-school, that he would go along with her crazy plans. 'I probably should think about that a little more...' crossed her thoughts as revenge plots floated around in her head. It really all depended on the female herself...which meant Miss Lasky was probably going to wind up trailing the female to find out what exactly would hit her the hardest. 'Shouldn't be too hard.' she confidentially assumed, yet figured that it might help to get in contact with Craig now. So after a breif search around the small apartment, she found herself texting to the Camera-Man.

      Hope you're awake~
      so how soon are you wanting
      this revenge thingy to take
      place? You know the festival
      is today. Do You want her
      embarrassed during 1 of the
      days of it??


.:TH3 R3P0RT3R:.

User ImageUser ImageUser ImageUser ImageUser Image
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Seeking. . .

XOXOXOSearching. . .

XOXOXOXOXOXOAdventuring for that greatest thrill. . .

Jamie XOXO Monroe XOXO Montaire

User Image The pain crept slowly through her as her hands continued to grasp for the next handhold. She forced her way further up the mountainside even as her legs began to slowly go numb. She was barely dragging herself along now, her arms doing all the work as the rest of her succumbed to the pain. Finally, with a scream of agony breaking her silence, her hands lost their grip and she began to plummet toward the ground below. She'd gotten so far up the mountainside, she couldn't even see where she was falling, but she knew she wouldn't be getting up when she hit bottom. It felt like hours passed as the pain continued to course through her as she fell until a sudden <CRACK> brought her to the cold stone of the ground below, leaving her sprawled out and dying.

A scream burst from her lips as she yanked out of her dreams, hands grasping the thick blankets wrapped around her. Silence filling the air around her, everything seemed too quiet for just a moment. With the light pouring in around the edges of her dark curtains, she knew her cousin was probably up by now, and she hoped maybe he hadn't been around to hear her scream. A deep breath filled Jamie's lungs as she tried to slow her heart. She could feel the pain that had been springing upon her over the past couple months creeping through her shoulder and down her back again. Cringing, she pulled herself out of bed, staggering toward the small vanity table she kept in her room, the polished black marble covering its surface gleaming at her beneath hair brush and makeup. A sigh escaped her lips as she saw herself in the mirror. She looked like s**t.

Running a hand through her hair, she ruffled the mess sleeping had made of it into something that at least looked a little more intentional. She tugged at the black tank she'd been sleeping in to make sure she wasn't showing off her fleshy bits, and tossed a pair of soft gray girl boxers on so she wasn't walking around half-naked. Her stomach growled in a frustrated exclamation of hunger, reminding her that she hadn't really eaten before hitting the sack last night. Nose wrinkling with the thought of having to cook, she made her way out of the room, not caring to close the door behind her, and stumbled down the hallway toward the kitchen and living room.

Noting the different haircut on the couch, she bit her inner lip a little before continuing, trying to decide whether or not she should go put a little more clothing on. [******** it, I live here...' Continuing into the kitchen, her first target was the box of cereal, a box which immediately got tossed at the trash after she picked it up to feel weightlessness. 'Dammit...' Turning to the pantry, Jamie pulled the door open to grab a box of grits she'd picked up the week before. She fished through to find a couple cheddar-flavored packets, emptying them into a bowl along with some water and shoving the mixture into the microwave for the next minute and a half.

Waiting for the chime of the microwave, she ducked into the bathroom long enough to run some water through her hair and scrub her face with her Clean and Clear Morning Burst. The smell always helped her wake up and, although she really didn't have any blemish issues, it helped with the small breakouts she used to get just from being a teenager. Patting her face dry, she heard the ding of the microwave and quickly brushed her teeth before heading out to grab her breakfast.

Bowl now in hand, and feeling much more awake and refreshed, Jamie proceeded to plop back in an armchair near the couch, curling up with breakfast to... Batman. Turning her gaze to see who the hell was watching Batman while her cousin was assumed to be off in another room, she cocked her head to the side a bit. "Good morning. I think I've seen you once or twice before, but I don't think we've ever been introduced. I'm Jamz."

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User ImageUser Image
The Clinic Said I'm
But There Isn't Any Cure For the Poor and Uninsured!
You're broken, so am I
I'm better off alone
No one to turn to and nothing to call my own
Outspoken, so am I
Explosive words that your world wouldn't understand
Turn away again

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Kenneth: It's only a Line if its bought

Kenneth herad a scream and quickly grabbed his gun as he put it up and was going to start heading to the sound. For a lady had screamed and ken, he would kill whoever was the cause of it. For now that he couldn't protect his sister anymore, he just, he felt that he had to protect who he could. He wtook out the flashlight and took one step back. He waited for another noise. Footsteps. A weapon. Who was in this aparment besides the three of them? Jamz was here and she must have been the one who screamed. Ken was about to run over to see if she was okay. Ken took a few more steps to the hallway as he then, heard breathing. Deep breathing. Okay so it was a nightmare. he put his gun back into his holster and quickly went back to just sitting on the couch.

No need to scream 'hey, I'm an undercover cop' ... and having a gun with a flashlight ready to pounce sort of just screamed that. So he sat back down. Turning the volume of Batman a little bit longer and using his good hearing to make sure that it was just a nightmare. He then heard footsteps. Well stumbling foot steps. good, she seemed to be unhurt. Good. Ken gave a sigh of relief as he turned up the volume of his cartoon so it didn't seem like, well, he wasn't listening to her. He then just listened to her. Which was just to make sure she was okay.

He heard her footsteps make it to the kitchen. As well as the beep beep of a microwave being used. So they didn't have any more cereal. WEll that could be put onto a list. Did the drug dealer ever, you know, keep stock of groceries. He should. It would be wise to make sure one doesn't starve. Especially since this apartment was like a barricade. He then listened as foot steps running down the hallway as the other ran and soon he heard a door closed. Water. Then foot steps running out. A ding noise stating that the whole thing was done. Everything was done.

He realzed a bit more, knowing that she was safe and was now not going to starve to death. So, yeah ... Ken still had a saving complex thing. He just, he didn't want anybody to be hurt or destroyed. Especially girls. Its why he threw himself in dangers way like A LOT. He had tos ave others. He then soon looked at Jamz as she introduced herself. So maybe they had only met twice. Probably for short periods of times. It was possible. Sometimes he got confused between what he had read and seen through the files and what he had actually been introduced too. But thankfully she stated how they had seen each other briefly and she didn't know his name. Ken introdued "Good morning Jamz. My name's Ken. Wow, I wouldn't have expected a teenage girl to be up this early..."

He then handed her the channel changer. Not sure if she wanted to change the channel or not. and let's be honest, you shouldn't really assume that people like what you like. She might like music videos or the news or something. He just assumed that by coming in here to see cartoons that it was their morning routine. "Anyway, I am sorry if I woke you up when I knocked on the door...I was trying to be quiet. So, are you okay? I heard screaming...."

You're beaten, so am I
I've got a heart of stone
No medication can draw what has taken hold
You're hurting, so am I
When I awaken, remember why I've been running from your

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