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Just a site for some cool Fiction

The Punishment Poll

For those who follow me on tumblr/twitter, you can skip this and go vote. For those of you who have no idea what’s going on, allow me to explain. Earlier this month, I researched and wrote a theory for the premiere date of the show, Castle. I took this theory and put it into an article which can be viewed here. In this article, I said that if my prediction date was wrong, then I would make a video of myself doing something that people suggested. Well, this is what I got. This poll will be open until August 10th and the video up by August 20th. The exception would be if “Sh** Castle Fans Say” wins. That one will require me to write a script and get some people to help me out and then to find a filming location. Happy Voting!

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Accusation

Isabelle came home from her first month at Montsburg High to find her mother waiting for her. She knew what this meant and before her mother could even get the words out she spoke sternly saying, “No.”

“I’m sorry Isabelle, but we have no other choice.”

“No.”

“I can’t change this. We leave next Sunday.”

“I’m not sure if you heard me but I said no. In case you didn’t catch the implication, I’m not going.” She spoke louder this time

“Isabelle,” Her mother started but she was interrupted.

“I’ll find somewhere else to live. I’m happy here, happier than I’ve been at other schools. I’m in love with Michael. He’s the sweetest boy who treats me like a lady should be treated. My teachers are amazing. My classes are challenging but not too hard and I just all around love it here. I’m not moving because you can’t say no to your company.” Isabelle was yelling by now. “Are you trying to make my life harder? ”

“Isabelle Marie, How dare you accuse me of not only trying to make your life harder but also that I can’t say no? We are moving and that’s final.” Isabelle rolled her eyes then ran to her room. Isabelle fell onto her bed and cried.

After a few minutes she heard her door open. “Go away, mom.” She said into her pillow.

The door shut but then her bed dip and Isabelle said, “Mom, I don’t want to hear it, go away.” She didn’t hear the door again but instead felt the bed dip once again and a strong pair of arms come around her.

“Your mom told me what was going on, Izzie.” Michael spoke softly.

“I don’t want to go. I love it here. I’ve never been happier in one place.” Isabelle said, turning her head so she spoke into his neck. “I’ll find a way to make it on my own.”

“You know she told me to come up here and break up with you. I asked her why she was trying to make it harder than it was. You know what she said?”

“No, what?”

“She asked me if I’d teamed up with you. She told me that she didn’t like being accused of making your life harder on purpose. She said that if I broke up with you then you would want to leave. I told her, I didn’t want you to leave so she suggested that I move with you guys.”
Isabelle lifted her head up and looked at him, “You know if I go to school here for two years, that’ll be the longest I’ve stayed in one place. I don’t want to leave Michael. I want to stay here with you and Kayla and Laura and Josh and even Alex. I’ll miss you the most if I leave and yeah I’d like to take you with me but I want to keep all of it. I don’t want to compromise. I’ve compromised by not arguing when we moved all the other times. I want it my way, just this once.” She said, nuzzling closer to him, seeking comfort.

“We’ll think of something Izzie.” Michael replied, holding her as close as he could, trying not to show his own fear of losing her.

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Beginning

I saw a 30 Day Writing Challenge on tumblr that was probably intended for Fanfiction but I have decided to take this challenge myself. The title of these stories will be the prompt. While I did write this story yesterday, I did not get a chance to edit due to internet problems. I may not have a story everyday but I will be doing 30 stories. Without further ado, Beginning. 

Today was a beginning. It wasn’t her first beginning but it was going to be her last. She’d lasted only a year at each of her other schools before she had to move. It was the middle of Junior year and Isabelle was tired of moving. It’d been great as a kid but now it was a pain. As a kid, her credits always transferred, but now she’d often had to take classes that she’d missed or wouldn’t have taken yet. So she wasn’t always with students in her grade but instead younger students. However, occasionally Isabelle got to be with students a grade above her.

Isabelle stepped through the doors of her new school. She walked to the locker that was going to be hers for the year. She carefully twisted the dial to the numbers she was told worked. It opened on the first try. A relief for Isabelle, as it was always embarrassing when the lockers stuck or you were given the wrong combination. She saw that someone had already put the books she’d need for her classes in her locker and breathed a sigh of relief, another embarrassing moment avoided She looked at the schedule she’d received in the mail just days earlier and headed in what seemed like the logical direction of her class.

Isabelle looked at the signs above classroom doors and thought about what her friends at her old school were doing. Suddenly, she was on the floor, her books across the hallway, and a boy, with brown eyes that welcomed her like a cup of coffee, leaning over her. They stared at each other for just a quick second before he moved off of her to pick up his books and to allow her to do the same. After the pair stood up, the young man said, “I’ve never seen you around here before. I’m Michael.”

“Isabelle. I just moved here. Today’s my first day here.”

“Well, Ms. Isabelle, where are you headed?”

“English AP with Mr. Carter.”

“Hey, so am I! Are you a senior?”

“Junior, I took double English as a Sophomore.”

“What a coincidence, I’m a Junior as well. I tested out of English I as a freshman. If you don’t mind walking to my locker with me, I’ll go to class with you.”

“I’d like that a lot, Michael.”

“Well, then let’s get going Isabelle, we wouldn’t want to be late now would we?”

“No, we would not.” As she took it’s outstretched hand, she knew today was a day of beginnings that would not soon be forgotten.

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Love in Nature’s Place

Fern watched Water. He was such a manwhore. They’d been seperated not one week and there he was pouring the Rockettes. I bet they laughed at all his jokes and told them he was the most handsome man in the world. Fern rolled her eyes. If he could get over her that quickly then she so could she. She looked over to find to see Soil sitting near by. “Hey Soil, how are you tonight?” She said in a super flirty voice.

 

“I’m doing fine thanks.” He said wearily.

 

Fern laughed with a bright smile adorning her face, “Oh you are just so adorable.”

 

“I didn’t say anything funny? What is up with you?” Soil was a bit concerned. He knew that Fern and Water had just broken up. Fern had never showed this kind of interest in him before.
“I just think you are the most handsome man here tonight.” Fern kissed him then peeked over to see Water watching them with a horrified look that he was doing a terrible job at hiding. ‘Good,’ she thought, ‘You deserve that.’

 

“What are you doing Fern? It’s obvious you still love Water.” Soil pointed out when he caught her looking away.

 

“So, it doesn’t matter. Look at him making out with each of the Rockettes. He’s such a manwhore. How can’t he know that the Rockettes are dating your cousins? Who cares about him and his pretty face with his funny jokes? What does it matter that he always told me I was pretty or cheered me up even when I was at my worst? He’s not doing that now. I’m at rock bottom but he’s not here is he? He doesn’t even matter. ” Fern said as tears ran down her face. Soil pointed behind her. “Water” was all she could manage before he was kissing her.
__________________________________________________________________________________
“Come on Water,” Fountain begged “Go out with me tonight. We’ll have fun and you can finally get over Fern.”
“What if I don’t want to? What if I made a big mistake? Fountain, I screwed up and now I can’t fix it.”

“Buddy you need to move on, come out with me tonight.”

 

“You know what. You’re right. I will go out with you tonight and I’ll show her that it doesn’t even matter that we’re done. I’m happy.”
“I think that may be going a bit far, Water. Hey! Who am I to judge? Let’s go for it!” Fountain said knowing his friend would have second thoughts later.

 

Water got there and immediatly saw the Rockettes. He knew they’d wanted to be with him for ages but he also knew they were with Dirt. It didn’t matter though. He needed a one night stand and these girls could give him exactly that.
He flirted with them. They laughed at all his jokes. They gave him the googly eyes as he poured over them. He saw Fern standing over there looking at him. ‘Good,’ he thought, ‘Now you can move on too.’ He went back to concentrating on the Rockettes.

 

When he saw her kissing Soil, he couldn’t take it anymore. He saw her look over and tried to hide the look that was obviously dorning his face. Judging by the smile he got, he wasn’t doing a good job at it. She turned back to Soil and he knew that he needed her back. He made his excuses to the Rockettes and walked over there.

 

The closer her got the more he could hear her, ” What does it matter that he always told me I was pretty or cheered me up even when I was at my worst? He’s not doing that now. I’m at rock bottom but he’s not here is he? He doesn’t even matter.”
His heart broke as he heard these words. He couldn’t believe that he was so stupid to leave her. She turned around and he did the only thing he could think of. He kissed her. It was that one kiss that made him feel better and more whole than any from the Rockettes had. He heard her utter his name in shock.
“I’m so sorry, Fern. I made a mistake. The only reason I came here tonight was because Fountain pushed me out of the house. I hadn’t left since I’d made the worst mistake of my life. I thought about your smile and how just a minute of it could take the worst day of my life and make it the best. I smelled the cakes you’d bake for no reason, then laugh at the memory of how we’d sit and eat the whole thing while watching tv. Everything I did only made me think of you. Please forgive me. I want to come back to you. Let me be happy again.” Water knew he had tears streaming down his face at this point but that was okay because so did she.
“Yes, I’m so sorry Water. I shouldn’t have let you push me away so easily.” He held open his arms and she ran into them without hesitation. He held her tightly so that she wouldn’t float away.

After a minute, he loosened his grip on her and pulled her head up by her chin, gently. Then, with the upmost passion and grace, he placed a kiss upon her lips, which she returned. So much was told to the other through that one simple kiss. They said words unspoken. They told each other things that there were no words for, things that neither of them could define or understand. They pulled back and smiled.

 

“Take me home, Water.” Fern whispered.

 

“As you wish my queen.”

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Death by Handbells

You see officer, the situation is unusual but not unexpected. Both Jen and Caitlin hated each other. Earlier tonight, they were at it again, arguing. Jen always borrowed money from Caitlin but never payed her back. I heard that Jen even stole it a few times. I also heard that Jen owed Caitlin over a thousand dollars. Well, tonight, their fighting was even worse than usual. In fact, it’d never been so bad. People kept trying to break it up but no one could. We gave up and just watched them. It started with words and slowly elevated. There was slapping, then punching, and then Jen just walked away. Well, Caitlin, who I heard from Katie, who heard from Jane, who overheard Marissa, who was talking to Alex, who talked to Caitlin’s cousin’s girlfriend’s sister, that she has a wicked temper. Well, Caitlin picked up a D7 bell and threw it at Jen. Then Jen just turned around and screamed. She sprinted toward Caitlin who’d already picked up another bell, a C6,  and was flinging it at Jen. Jen got one, a G5, and threw it at Caitlin, and that’s how it went until Caitlin picked up an F4 and Jen picked up an A4, then they hit each other on the head at the same time. They dropped and that’s when we called you guys. That’s how it happened officer, I swear. Just ask anyone, I’m not lying.

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Blue Christmas

Christmas is a time of joy for everyone. Everyone except Leah that is. You see for Leah, Christmas is a time of more sorrow than usual. When she was eight, Leah’s father abandoned her and her mother, the day before Christmas. The next year her mother committed suicide, on Christmas. Over the next five years, she went through three different foster familes and four different schools. This year she was with a family who was trying their best to “fix” her and they were determined to not give up. Leah had been with them for just over two years. After her mother had committed suicide, Leah hid away. Kids started to bully her and so she became angry and violent, but she was also sad at the same time. She’d throw punches at a kid and then run off and cry. She’d developed though, when Leah hit kids now she didn’t cry anymore. She just stood there and then later cried at home. Everyone assumed she was crying because she’d been caught and that she was throwing punches as a form of rebellion.
Leah couldn’t take it anymore. There were cuts up and down her arms and around her body. She wore long sleeves constantly and no one ever noticed. No one noticed Leah except when she hit and was violent. She was just a part of the backround. Her foster family never noticed her, they rarely tried to make conversation with her at the dinner table and only occasionally noticed when she said something related to the conversation. Leah was nothing and no one would miss her.
That’s why on Christmas morning, five years after her mother’s death, Leah found herself standing in the bathroom with a bottle of pills in her hand and a warmth bath sitting there. Leah stepped into the bath with a handful of the pills and swallowed them. She sat there waiting for them to take over and kill her.

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Red: A poem

Red is the blood that slowly drips from the knife,

just pulled from a soul once living.

Red are the lights that shine with the blue,

as the man responsible is taken to jail.

Red is the ink that flows from the pen,

as the editor works to perfect the piece.

Red are the bulls on the can,

that keep her from sleeping at her desk.

Red is the light opposite of green,

that stops the cars.

Red is the stop sign,

that everyone ignores.

Red is the little notification in the corner,

telling you there’s something new for you.

Red is the background of your favorite blog,

filled with posts that just make your day.

Red is the tattoo on the foot of a young girl,

one of a simple heart with wings.

Red is the stripe of a candy cane,

sweet with peppermint.

Red is cherry bread,

sweet and warm.

Red is apples,

crisp and juicy.

Red is pain,

the kind that no one can see.

Red is the blood dripping from the blade,

as a young girl makes another cut in her arm.

Red is happiness,

as we open another can of Coke.

Red is the succulent strawberry,

giving us nourishment.

Red is the juice that we drink,

pleasing our tongue.

Red is the color of the team,

that’s going to win the World Series this year.

Red is us,

the people of this earth.

Red runs through our hearts and veins,

separating the living from the dead.

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The Technological Murder

“He was killed with a what?!”

 

“An Ipad, first generation”

 

“I want the hard drive, gotta be a reason the killer chose that weapon.”

 

“That’s going to be a bit of an issue sir.”

 

“Why the hell so?”

 

“The killer used that hammer over there to smash the hard drive.”

 

“Wait, so let me get this straight, the killer used the Ipad  to kill the man but then used the hammar to smash the hard drive?”

 

“Yes Sir.”

 

“Okay what else do we know about our vic?”

 

“Mr. Jones, 36, high school teacher.”

 

“You talk to anyone?”

 

“Yeah one of his colleagues says he teaches all the German classes and wasn’t well liked.”

 

“Start checking his students’ alibis.”

 

“Yes, Sir.”

 

Quick Note, If you all would please check out this link  it’s the story of my bullying expirences and something I think everyone needs to see. 

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Love is Louder: The Real Story

So today along with my FridayFlash and my post over on Silver Pens (a WordPress blog where a bunch of teens talk about writing.) I’m going to let you all in on a very special story, mine. This isn’t a biography though, it’s a memoir of my bullying experiences. I will admit I almost chickened out this week but then something happened and it made me realize that by posting this I was doing the right thing. For those of you who’ve followed me from the beginning will remember the story I posted a few months back titled “Love is Louder” well as the title suggests, this is the real story. For those of you who haven’t read that one, I suggest reading it after this but that story is a fictional tale about the life of someone who was bullied. I came to the decision to do this after I read someone’s story that was given to me by a friend. So with formalities out of the way, let’s get on with it.

Our story begins in December of 2004, the winter of my third grade year. It was the last day of school before Christmas break. I was passing out a paper when I felt myself falling, then landing on the leg of a desk. I willed myself not to cry and made it until I was out of the classroom on my way to the nurse’s office. It hurt like hell. The teacher asked if I was tripped and since I wasn’t sure and I didn’t want to get anyone in trouble I said no. You see I was a bit of what they call a goody-goody. I later found out from a friend that I had indeed been tripped but she didn’t say anything. I don’t remember anything else happening for the rest of the year.

This brings us to the 2005-2006 school year also called my fourth grade year and the first of several years of hell.  I was different. I didn’t believe in matching clothes. I wasn’t allowed to have a sharpie, yes a sharpie. I got made fun of for not having one. I also had a large imagination that I still have. At this point, most people stopped believing in Santa and what not. Someone even told me that Santa wasn’t real but I didn’t believe her. I had a pink eraser, you know the thick ones, that I named and treated like a pet. Some of them threw it away and I believe they were laughing at me as I looked everywhere in my desk and pencil bag looking for it. There was also the rumor that was spread, either in fourth or fifth grade not quite sure which,that said I ate grass. Yup, you read that right but here’s the thing is that was really horrible.

So let’s talk about fifth grade a little bit. I tried to be popular. I’d been on the cheerleading squad since third grade, I’d later be on it until eighth grade, and I’d seen in all the shows that, that made you popular. I had a Webkinz which was what was in at the time  but for some reason I was still made fun of occasionally. I always turned in my homework on time and was still your basic goody-goody. I remember that they brought me to tears in sixth grade, can’t remember why but I remember my class getting yelled at while I stood in the hallway trying to stop crying then when I walked back in they all stared at me. I got a slight break in seventh and eighth grade, at least to the point where if they were doing it, I didn’t know about it.

This brings us to last school year, freshman year. It started out fantastic. I was going to an all girls school that was nearby but considered “out of district” so there were only twelve of us going three of which were good friends of mine and  the others who weren’t any of them, well one but she now pretends that I don’t exist. This part of it starts about midyear, oddly enough when I met my current best friend whom was in none of my classes and I only had one lunch with not counting the days we had two lunches. One of my “good friends” whom I had come to this school knowing, sorta turned on me. She just started out by going online and finding the fanfictions I had put up and purposely leaving mean comments on them but I had no proof that it was her. At first I approached her and asked if it was her, and then believed her when she said no. At the time, I had bragged about my fanfictions because I loved writing them and I was happy. Then I started talking about a chat room I hung out in and she found it then came in and was quite troll like, my other “good friend” joined her in this particular act. At this point, I’d started back up with fanfictions and soon after found out it was her. When  I approached her about it again, she told me it wasn’t her but when I got home, there were lovely reviews on the first and second chapters of several of my fanfictions. It was at that point I was sure it was her. She now bashes every opinion that anyone has that is different then hers.

And that’s my story. Yup, not too long you see but quite damaging. I’ve become kind of shy. I participate in class and force myself to get up in front of people but I am less likely to compliment a stranger and it scares me to stand out. I know I have lots of issues from it none of which I’m going to name but bullying IS a SERIOUS problem. So, best wishes to all and if you want to help this organization is dedicated to spreading the word about bullying.

So best wishes and no bullying to all! Remember this, Bullying is a problem that CAN BE STOPPED!

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A 9/11 Fiction Story

For those of us in the US, 9/11 is Sunday and it’s a very significant day. This stories in memory of those who died and especially their families. 

 

I was five years old when the planes hit. Lizzy had just turned one. My mom had gone to meet her friend who worked in the Towers for breakfast that morning. She called us at 10:30. She told dad to give me the phone and I’ll never forget the exact words she said to me, “Alex sweetheart, I know you don’t like your sister right now but you’re her brother and you need to protect her from everything and make sure she knows that I’m watching you guys. Alex, I’m proud of you, remember that okay? No matter what you do I’m proud. I love you so much buddy. Now give your daddy the phone.” Mom didn’t come home that night…or every again.

 

Five years after that day, my dad remarried. I don’t like this woman, Janice, but since dad’s been with her it’s the happiest he’s been since mom died. I got a stepbrother out of it, Richard. He’s seventeen and I’m only allowed to call him Rick when Janice isn’t around. She hates nicknames. She calls me Alexander and Lizzy, Elizabeth. I almost forgot! Dad and Janice had a kid together, Amanda. (I call her Mandy when Janice isn’t around.) Mandy turned two in July.

 

But, back to the topic at hand. During the week it happened, I see my mother’s grave three times. I take Lizzy at some point in the week like we do every week. Then we have a tradition starting on the 7th.

 

On the 7th my dad goes alone. He visits mom’s grave once a month.

 

On the 8th, Janice drags us to the site and her, Rick, and Mandy honor all the dead in the Towers. Lizzy, Dad, and I honor all the first responders. Janice only thinks about the corporate people working there and that the first responders weren’t trying. Dad and I know they were trying to save as many people as they could and that’s what I’ve taught Lizzy.

 

On the 9th,Dad and Lizzy go and visit mom’s grave alone then head to the site and spend more time alone there.

 

On the 10th, Dad and I go to mom’s grave then head over to the site.

 

On the anniversary the three of us rewatch the newscast then visit mom’s grave again and have a picnic with her. The day is rounded out with another trip to the site where we give every emergency personnel we see a flower, a hug, and a thanks. Janice and Rick know to avoid Lizzy and me on this day. We cry in our room at night but if they come near we get really angry. Lizzy and I are really close. It’s my way of protecting her. Tonight, we’ll sleep in my room. We know the bad dreams will come but they won’t be as bad as the one we wake up too on September 12, 2011. The one that starts with Janice’s scream.

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