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 Posted: Sat Jul 10, 2010 6:17 pm
James Sullivan I know your secret This is number 5 I see you there James Sullivan. Strutting down the halls. With your black leather jacket and greased back hair, you think you rule us all. All the girls in school think your gorgeous. And that your the newest thing since God. You steal there hearts for your private collection and treat them all like dogs. But I know something they dont. I know what happens at night. I know of the terror inside you. Of which you dont even try to fight. I saw your flaming red eyes. And I atched as you retrieved your bloody blade. I watched as you killed that girl, not caring for the sadness youve made. Its not the first time Ive seen it. That murder was number three. I know your secret now. Of the images I will never be free. I see you there James Sullivan. Strutting down the halls. With your black leather jacket and your greased back hair. Who will be your next victim is my thought above them all.
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Posted: Mon Jul 12, 2010 11:46 am
ha ha ha!! yes!! more stories!! twisted
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Posted: Mon Jul 12, 2010 10:41 pm
lildemisa...
always the watcher never getting a chance to interact with the others she so longs to feel a part of. alone she wonders the streets. these people's clothing bind, keeping her lungs from doing their much needed dance.
she left all that she knew in the realm of the neko's to try and get that American dream. so far all she sees is the nightmare. oil in waters, animals laying lifeless across the black rivers which only serve to consume the air above it, this cant be the paradise she was told about since kittenhood.
the so called air is lethal to her weakened body. the black silk her mother gave her as parting present keeps it from her lips, but does nothing for the taste. she can smell the pointless death of cows, chickens, turkeys, deer, raccoons, humans.
this soulless expansion of former native land is a disgrace. what she wouldnt do to shed the pointless peaces of cloth that this society forces her to live in and run in the fields of her homeland.
yet it is too late. this is her home.
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Posted: Mon Jul 12, 2010 10:44 pm
oh oops lol i misunderstood and wrote about mine lol. I SHALL RETURN SOONS WITH A REAL ENTY lol
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Posted: Mon Jul 12, 2010 11:03 pm
okay now that i READ the rules lol (sorry about that) i'll do mine on 4.
feeling the sunlight drip down into the chives she smiles peacefully. the simple plant others murder and toss carelessly into soup was her favorite flower.
the color of the bloom matching her skin almost flawlessly. she felt such companionship to the weed. much like her it was often over looked but dare they try and make monto soup without it? HA! what would be the point? without the flavor of chives it was merely hot water.
she watched as the wind whipped the tiny stalks in circles. what joy they must feel! their dance will never end,unlike hers. the image of the man she must soon call her beloved twisted her face. soon the scent of spring air and freedom would be taken from her, replace with the stale smell of soiled clothing and emptiness.
yet still she smiled. today she was free.
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Posted: Tue Jul 13, 2010 10:10 am
Bring on your torture, your bullets, your pains Simple mistake, and I enjoyed them both. ^.^ And in my heart, things aren't the same.
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Undesired Desire Vice Captain
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Posted: Wed Jul 14, 2010 9:21 am
indeed. it's all good.
more posts people!! scream
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Posted: Wed Jul 14, 2010 11:44 am
bump for attention!!! whee
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Posted: Fri Jul 16, 2010 9:46 am
fourteen days till judgement day. Dun dun dun! gonk
enter the contest. multiple times. do it now. burning_eyes
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Posted: Sat Jul 17, 2010 12:08 pm
Bring on your torture, your bullets, your pains Soggy Kitten
#3, along with the kitten in your signature.
Charles went walking that day, oh on that rainy day in Yorkshire. It seemed his troubles would consume him whole. He let the rain hit his face, washing away his misery. He felt as though his whole life was a failure. He had nothing worth living for, not anymore. It was his duty to the world to find his place, but it seemed his niche was running away from him, afraid of the eminent doom that would follow. Even Charles was afraid, although he had nowhere to turn, no shelter in which he could hide, and no comfort to take solstice in.
Charles was an observant man. He was a scientist, after all, if only a poor one. He was counting his footsteps, seven hundred and eighty two, he knew how many turns he had made, three lefts, a right, and the middle fork in the road, and he counted all of the litter along the roadside, four grocery sacks, thirteen wads of paper, and he had just passed a soggy cardboard box that read FREE on the front of it.
That was strange to Charles. Why would someone leave a free box, nonetheless out in the middle of nowhere? All cardboard boxes left on the sides of roads were technically "free." He inspected the box closer. It was closed, battered, and there were several small holes in it, tears almost along the lower sides. Charles decided to poke the box. It crumpled under the stress of his finger's intrusion, falling like, well, like a wet cardboard box. There was yet another abnormality with Charles's box. It was lumpy now, not flat. The lump also seemed to move.
Charles watched the lump wiggle, squirm, and jolt from left to right, seeming to need an escape route. Charles, being a scientist, wasn't sure how this box could be moving on it's own accord. He lifted the flap to see what was inside. He bent his nose low to the ground, trying to make sense of this mystery. He was met with a stinging sensation somewhere near his forehead. He hollered and jumped a bit, frightening the animal back into submissive hiding.
Charles, cursing his luck, looked back into the box. Inside was the little monster that had caused his face to bleed a bit. Bloody hell, it was a kitten. A small grey and white kitten, but who would leave the little animal all alone in a box in the middle of Yorkshire?
Charles scooped up the little bundle of wet fur and walked back the seven hundred and eighty two steps, back down the middle fork, one right turn, now a left turn, and three lefts that had turned into rights, past the soggy box, thirteen wads of paper, and four sacks for groceries. The sun had made its debut on that day, and the small soggy kitten purred against the chest of Charles the Scientist. Charles, who had never had a pet, decided to call the kitten Rain Cloud, in hopes that the animal would always be there for him on his rainiest of days. And in my heart, things aren't the same.
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Undesired Desire Vice Captain
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Posted: Sat Jul 17, 2010 12:50 pm
Woo!! stories!! whee but we must have more! infinitely more!
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Posted: Wed Jul 21, 2010 12:24 am
enter the contest... enter it now. eek
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Posted: Wed Jul 21, 2010 11:45 am
9 more days... people should enter.
also, does anyone think i should extend the deadline or just judge what there is on the 30th as i originally planned?
feedback from those already entered?
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Posted: Thu Jul 22, 2010 2:02 pm
At this point I believe that with the number of people we have who are actually active at the moment, you have all the entries your going to recieve. I would stick to the 30th.
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Undesired Desire Vice Captain
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Posted: Thu Jul 22, 2010 3:15 pm
Bring on your torture, your bullets, your pains I am nodding my head in agreement. Keep the deadline, or shorten it. There might be multiple entries, but within the same people. I'm kind of dead with the options given, so I'm drawing my line with Pyromania and Soggy Kitten. Although I would like feedback, I'm too lazy to read through everyone else's entries. . . Not going to lie, so I don't expect much. And in my heart, things aren't the same.
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