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| What should the next contest be |
| Poetry |
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34% |
[ 13 ] |
| Another Short Story. |
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26% |
[ 10 ] |
| Some form of art |
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39% |
[ 15 ] |
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| Total Votes : 38 |
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 Posted: Wed Mar 15, 2006 9:45 am
Hear ye, hear ye, all members of the Got Goth Guild. We are going to be holding a Short Story contest contest. Of course, there are a few rules that are going to be put in place for this little contest, as well as a prize awarded, so keep reading for details.
exclaim This contest is open to all guild members, and is a themed contest.
exclaim The deadline for all submissions is march 30 (just post your work in this thread to submit it).
exclaim Spelling and grammar do count, but the content is even more important, so we won't be nit picking, but do try to make our lives easier by spell checking the work
exclaim There shall be a panel of judges for this contest. (Me, Lurichan, and one more to be dertermined soon)
exclaim The theme for this contest is Saint Patricks day. I don't care how you relate it but saint patricks day is the theme.
As for a reward for this contest, 1,000 gold shall be granted to the first place winner and the second place runner up shall recieve 500 gold.
Any questions? Good, then good luck to all who choose to participate. ^_^
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Posted: Wed Mar 15, 2006 1:02 pm
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Posted: Wed Mar 15, 2006 5:57 pm
[ Message temporarily off-line ]
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Posted: Wed Mar 15, 2006 6:55 pm
SPELLING! scream
RED PEN! scream
very good story heart blaugh
I wear orange on St. Patrick's day heart
I think she gets an extra plus for being the first story...
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Posted: Wed Mar 15, 2006 10:44 pm
The scarlette bedsheets were covered, the hard wood floors no longer visible, and a stray shirt was draped carelessly over a lampshade while another flew through the air. What was once a carefully organized bedroom now looked as though a tornado had hit it. Jaren Dalton was understandably rather confused.
"Alex?" he called out, looking around the room for his best friend. Hesitantly stepping farther into the room, he saw the closet door was open. Hearing a slight rustling sound, he walked around to peer inside. There, on her hands and knees, was none other than his lovely best friend. His Lovely best friend who was currently desperately clawing at the back of her closet.
"I know there's something in here..." she mumbled while throwing behind her yet another t-shirt, adding to the growing pile on the floor.
Jaren ducked as the offending article flew over his head.
"What are you doing? If you don't hurry, we're going to be late for the St. Patrick's Day parade," he said, noting she was still in her pajamas even.
"Why aren't you dressed yet?" With a sigh, she stood up, wiping the dust bunnies off of her Emily the Strange pajamas as she went. Blowing a long strand of dark hair out of her eyes, her mouth twisted into a sneer.
"I have a problem."
"I can see that, but what is it?"
"I don't have anything green," she said, frowing while glancing around the room.
And indeed, there wasn't a green piece of clothing in sight. Every shirt, pant, and sock were all black.
"That's why you were tearing apart your closet? Cause you were trying to find something green?" she nodded in response, clearly discouraged.
"The woes of being goth...just get dressed, we'll figure something out on the way." Agreeing, she ushered the lanky man out of her room so she could dress.
Jaren decided to wait outside. He sat down on the porch steps and started fiddling with some stalks of grass; patience never was his forte.
While picking through a small patch, he came upon a perfect four leaf clover. Smiling, he plucked it from the ground.
Alex came out a few moments later. With dark jeans, a plain black fitted t-shirt, and a sad smile.
"Well, I'm afraid this was the best I could do," she said, gesturing down to the ansemble.
"I think I can help you out," once she reached the bottome of the porch steps, Jaren placed the four leaf clover into her hand.
"There you go, now you've got your green," he grinned at the brilliant smile that lit up her face.
"Yes! Alright, we're good now. Let's go to the parade," whole heartedly agreeing, they started walking toward his mustang in the driveway. Once inside, he started the inition and started to pull out of the driveway. However, after seeing the digital clock he paused.
"What's wrong?" Alex asked.
"It's two o'clock. We missed the parade." Alex looked down at the four leaf clover in her hand, glaring at it.
"You were supposed to be lucky." she said accusingly.
"So now what?"
"Well," Jaren thought, "there's a Dropkick Murphy's show tonight, want to go?" he asked.
"Sure, but can we go by the store first? There's a new black skirt I want to get," Jaren looked at her incredolously.
"What? My old one is ripped and..." he held up his hands to cut her off.
"Never mind, it's fine. I just hope you know, you're hopeless."
Despite missing the parade, the duo went to the concert and had an amazing time. Turns out four leaf clovers really are lucky after all.
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Posted: Thu Mar 16, 2006 6:46 am
my bloody st. patricks day
have you ever seen a buaril on st. patricks day, everwondered why, im about to tell yo what happined, and why it happined, and why it keeps happining, tere once was a little buy, named jack carver, jack was allwase the one who didn't talk, but he wanted to be in the parade, so bad hed kill for it,and KILL he did, he wanted it so bad that he stope his fthers deasert eagle, and his mothers switch blade and smiled, darting to the side of the first float, so the others couldenr drive away unharmed..."why hello little boy, why are you up-" was all she had said that set him off, somthing twitched inside his little mind that caused him to blo her brains all over the float, and its attendents, everyone watched in horror as he cut her to peices and moved on to the rest of the floats, 1 by one they died, he drank the blood, devowered the brain matter, he was enjoying the feeliong, the knoledge that he was fulfilling his dream..and aftrward all he could say was "chaos is just the begining"
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Posted: Thu Mar 16, 2006 5:36 pm
((I edited this to fit the St. Patty's day theme! I hope you all like it.))
Her
She wasn't very popular, very pretty, or very smart. At least we never let her be those things. Everyone teased her, laughed at, tortured her. I can't deny it; I did too (but I wish I hadn't).
In fact, I remember one day she wore a huge, orange and black striped sweater over black leggings. Personally, I thought the outfit was awesome, but I couldn't let my friends know that, especially since it was St. Patrick's Day and she wasn't wearing a bit of green. So I stood there in my lime green tank top and designer hip huggers, wearing my boyfriends's letter jacket, and pointed. And whispered. And laughed. With everyone else. And I ignored the painful tug at my heart when I saw her eyes shine with tears. I even laughed when a girl pantsed her to see if her underwear were green. They weren't.
At lunch, I sat at my table, the "popular" one, and giggled along as we watched her sit alone, eating off the Free Table. Only poor people or stingy weasels ate from that table. Guess which one we decided she was. I had no idea that her younger brother was Autistic and they used all their money on doctors and emergencies.
After lunch, I had study hall, so I asked the teacher for a restroom pass. As I was about to step out of the stall, the bathroom door slammed open.
I froze. The water splashed on, but even over that, I heard the distinct sound of someone sobbing. I peered through the crack and saw her, leaning over the sink, shoulders heaving.
She cried for the longest time, and all the memories of our torturing her came flooding back to me. I started to push the door open when she pulled something out of her pocket. I realized what she was going to do and threw the door open.
"No, DON'T!"
Too late.
She plunged her calligraphy pen deep into her wrist and dragged it up to her elbow, gasping with pain. She stumbled, and I caught her as she fell. Blood and ink gushed over her arms and onto that "horrid" sweater. I held her in my arms and screamed for help.
No one came.
My green shirt was now scarlet, but I didn't care.
"I'm sorry; God, I'm so sorry."
She looked up at me through the tears in her eyes and smiled weakly.
"It's alright," she whispered, "I for...forgive..."
She went limp in my arms and I screamed in horror.
Finally, someone came running in and saw us, then called 911 on her cell phone.
The next few minutes were a blur. The paramedics came rushing in. They took her from me and tried to resuscitate her. My boyfriend came in and hugged me tight, trying to console me. The nurse came in to see if I was okay. People came. People went.
When I finally saw clearly again, I was standing in my shower, the hot water searing across my back. I blinked and looked at my bloodstained clothes pled on the floor and snapped into reality.
"Oh, oh my God."
I had just seen a girl commit suicide! Shocked, I collapsed against the shower wall, panting heavily. I did not sleep that night.
A year later, on St. Patrick's Day, I was sitting at the lunch table with my friends when one of them pointed across the room and started sniggering. I looked in that direction then stood and picked up my tray. My boyfriend followed suit, and we walked over to a boy eating alone, not wearing green, hunched over his tray.
"Hi, are you new here?"
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Posted: Fri Mar 17, 2006 6:52 pm
dang, Siermana got my vote, seriously impressive smile
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Posted: Sat Mar 18, 2006 11:27 am
A Holy St. Patricks day
Lili was a small, shy girl, who wasn't loved and wasn't talkative, some say she's mute, others say she's shy. St. Patricks day was coming and the mute little girl sat hopelessy in the cold alley that her parents left her in at the age of 6. Lili's one dream was to be loved and cared for, but not long after that wish she lost her voice and seeks to get it back.
"Hey, loser get out my way" Said Miss. Mary's son, Patrick. Lili stood up and was about to move as Pactrick punched her and she fell to the ground, Patrtick left without saying a word and tears roled down Lili's cheeks. She waited for saint patricks day to come in that daft alley.
It was the day before St. patricks day that Lili went to the sign up for parade, she chose to do a special suprise and didn't write her performance on the enrolment form.
As she walked back to her alley she met Patrick who was about to explode with laughter, but instead he said "You think you can perform, at my parade... You'll be terrrible, you can't say a word, you don't know how to dance.. What can you do" Pactrick pushed her to the ground and ran of home.
At the parade there was Dancing and singing and all kinds of things... and as it was finishing Lili stood of stage and pulled off a great cloth from the wall behind her and revieled a giant mural, with a holy angel and 5 leprachorns blessed the people around her. At this the people were stunned and praised her greatly and days later she was loved but not very loving.
But she was stilled hated by Patrick who drew a silver dagger from the kitchen and showed Lili her newest friend and with her new friend she met her end.
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Posted: Sat Mar 18, 2006 6:56 pm
Seanna dang, Siermana got my vote, seriously impressive smile Thank you! ^_^
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Posted: Sun Mar 19, 2006 8:02 pm
Seanna dang, Siermana got my vote, seriously impressive smile yeah I'd agree(I'm not a judge... obviously) Personaly I hate mine I'm much better at poems
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Posted: Mon Mar 20, 2006 8:44 am
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Posted: Mon Mar 20, 2006 6:33 pm
I wouldn't mind doing this. Does it matter if the story just happens on St. Patricks day? I mean, does it have to focus on it?
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Posted: Mon Mar 20, 2006 6:39 pm
Holy bloody hell on a popcicle stick! Siermana, you have my vote wholeheartedly. Thats one of the most unhappy storied I've ever heard. Damn good! I'll donate to make the prize payout bigger if this is the kind of stuff that usually gets put in here. I'll donate 500 gold to the cause right now!
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