The disco ball was turning. I couldn't believe it. The big night had finally arrived. The day I had been waiting for for four years: My senior prom. I had gotten the nerve to ask the homecoming queen, Jill, to the dance. I remmeber I was so nervous when I asked her. It was during 4th period English class. My teacher was asking us to do some stupid thematic connection activity, and I leaned over and said, "Hey, Jill, umm....would you...." She looked at me like I had 1,000 heads, and they were not handsome heads. I started to falter....
She closed her eyes and disappeared. The notes swallowed her, refusing to let her go. The beat aligned with her heart beat, giving her the illusion of impossible strength. The music grew louder until it was an explosion--as if thousands of butterflies instantly fluttered. She wished she too could fly away. Fly like the waves of the sound. Fly like the butterflies.
But instead, she was bound like the hair on her head. Bound by responsibily. Bound by expectation. Bound by fear of the unknown.
Mr. Sippee is the new owner of the Turtle House. Mac and I met him on Tuesday. There he was, sitting on the roof, waving to the swans. We went up, cause Mac had his own ladder. "Hi kids," says Mr. Sippee. Then he jumped off the roof. Down he fell. One storey. Two storeys. Three. Crash into a pile of broken marble.
Up gets Mr. Sippee. His head is cut in half and blood is dripping from his ears. But no matter. Out he pulls a needle and thread and gol durn but he sews his head right back...
"You stink," said Martin.
"I do?" said Candice.
"Yes. You smell like eggs and old V8 and goose turds and a garbage dump and Count Chocula."
"Oh," said Candice. "Maybe I've been eating too much garlic."
"Here," said Martin, pulling out the garden hose. "I will shower you."
On went the hose. Candice was soaked. She shrieked. The water soaked her wedding dress, the white leather couch, the white carpet, and her two Corgis - Bill and Lem.
"Now I'm all wet," said Candice, peeling off her dress. She was now naked on the couch.
Martin stuck his nose in...
He stared at her, mesmerized by every breath she took. Dimly, the boy could hear her speaking, but he had absolutely no idea what the girl was saying. His attention was wholly foc...
WHAP!!
"Mark!" Mary said irritably. "My eyes are UP HERE!"
The wall is the place most people choose on their own. You come for a day or a week and it's never to see the sights. The sights are immaterial, and not unexpected. Temples, tea houses with dripping peremera trees hanging soot and sleek flowers over damp pollenated tables. Once thriving book shops and market warrens closed down by the proper authorities. Cab drivers who direct you round about ways and never give useful directions. None of these things are unusual, or particularly memorable. It is instead, the wall itself, that calls to you. The wall is the reason you...
SNAP! it was now that Klein realised he was done.
15 minutes earlier
there was a group of young boys running around having fun but little did i know that what they planned to do would leave them all scared. There were just at the beach with their family but sneaked away to go and swim in the forbidden ocean. Not this ocean was forbidden as it was full with sharks but they didn't know that. Klein and his friends all jumped in unaware of the dangers that laid ahead.As they were swimming one of the boys noticed 3 fins...
There's somebody standing in the corner of my room.
I can't tell if he means me harm or not - he's not doing anything. He's just standing there.
I'm not certain if he knows that I'm here. Maybe he isn't certain if he's here.
I can't quite bring myself to approach him; I know I should do, I'm a scientist at heart, I should be testing my experience, the environment. Verifying what I think I'm seeing, what I'm perceiving.
But I'm also a coward at heart; a self-preservationist, a vulnerable young woman. With a strange man in her bedroom.
I...
The last time she'd seen pink butterflies, she'd burned down the church.
She told them the headphones helped with the hallucinations.
She lied.
Dr. Weber had first suggested the headphones, and he'd told her to compile a playlist and to choose the songs based on certain lyrics and words, and to use those lyrics and words as cues to control the hallucinations. If she couldn't completely erase them now, she could at least learn how to hold them back, get that subconscious moving until the scary ones became mildly disturbing and then from there they would lower in degree until...
Once upon a time in a bright, little forrest,
there were three Elves named Jimmie, Bob and Horace.
Jimmie was an arsonist, Bob was a drug lord,
and Horace killed hookers with an old VCR-cord.
They went into prison but just now they broke out,
"Each take a hostage and run to the river!", Bob shouts.
They stole a get-a-way boat to cross the stream,
when Bob decided to work against the team.
He killed two hostages and shot Jimmie in the leg,
So Horace had to put a bullet in Bob's head.
"My leg hurts like a bitch!", Jimmie...