The young man ran toward the park building, surrounded by trees, bushes, and several high-rises that glowered down like overbearing siblings eyeing their sibling's latest suitor. The boy was soaking wet, his heart beat furiously in his chest, and his eyes were wide with terror. He knew they were still behind him. They'd already came after his mother, forcing him to leave her far behind if he wanted to escape with his life.
The boy's feet slapped against the ground as he approached the glass door. Yanking it open, eh rushed into a cool white-walled lobby where a handful of...

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One person shouldn't be able to change your life forever. I think we all know people who have been affected outside of their control - torture, rape, molestation... it's a little fucked up to put love in the same category, isn't it?

Maybe the crucial difference is that it's a sweet anguish. That's why I feel sick to my stomach, I can't sleep at night, my conscious is fixated on one person and one event. It makes me smile when I don't feel like crying. This seems like such a high school thing. Aren't those the cuts that make the...

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Jane was only footsteps away from the door. She was within earshot of the rest of her existence. She took 3 cleansing breaths, as she had in yoga, time after time after time. But this time, this time would be the clincher. She was coming in and out of consciousness now as she heard the voice. The Voice of her alter ego. Her Fear.She called her Safura after a Western Bad guy she use to see on Kung Fu. Safura was calling her to come back.Come back to Fear, Come back to pain, come back to the land without compassion....

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You could use a little direction, said Junie to Sam.

They were sitting cross-legged in the wood chips on the playground. Junie was wearing a polka-dotted skirt, and she spread it over her knees, aware that her Hanes-covered little bottom was unprotected from the dirt.

It was something she heard once, from mother.

Sam said nothing. He was dumping wood chips into his lap with his fists, wanting it all. Making a pond and filling it up.

Sure, said Sam, through his spitty little teeth. He pointed to the South.

Don't you see?

He jumped, I jumped. She sto

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I'm lost.

The corn fields turned into and endless turning of green upon green, and I couldn't run because the leaves had become blades.

I've stopped walking. I've stopped screaming. Screaming only made me thirsty, and I even tried tearing a corn leaf to pieces to suck on something, anything. I tried to pull an ear and when I pulled the leaves back, a handful of black ear wigs fell onto my lap, pincher butts spread wide. I wiped them off and ran.

Something cut my upper arm.

I lay now, staring at the sky, it's gone from gray to...

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"Come on, Brad," she sighed. "Can't you be serious once in your life?"

"Maybe," he said. "We may not know for sure until I'm dead, though."

"This is really important," she told him. "We have to defuse this nuclear bomb before the silo doors open and Dr. Malevolence's computer virus launches it and starts World War III."

"You know, I'm not totally convinced," Brad argued. "How many viruses work perfectly when they're released? Writing viruses is hard, you know. Even evolution needs to try billions of times to get it right."

"You really want to risk the fate of the...

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Lazy summer days are so much fun. The sun shining down, fresh apples on the trees, dropping down, and soft grass to lie on. Just pure bliss.

I reach into the picnic hamper next to me, and pull out a banana. Peeling it, I look around. No one else is here yet. That just makes things even better. I stuff the banana into my mouth.

It tastes just as good as the day feels.

I hear a shriek behind me. Turning around, I see a pretty young lady, her features pushed out of shape into a look of fear. She...

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He sat in the window of the coffee shop, letting his coffee go cold as he stared at the people passing on the street absentmindedly. His notebook lay open in his lap, forgotten. His new assignment at work completely failing to inspire him. His phone was faced down on the table so that he couldn't see it when it lit up as his girlfriend rang him to check up, berate him or otherwise just invade his bubble of solitude.
He wasn't sure whenhe had begun to feel just so, disatisfied, but the feeling had certainly settled upon him with a...

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You can't be a hero if you can't move your arms. You can't get the girl with a stutter like that. What can you do in your condition? What did you expect? How can you live without the means to earn respect?

Well, mister President. Maybe I won't be a hero. Maybe I will show you how a villain gets respect. Maybe I will let you watch. Show me what a hero is, mister President.

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The cover image for the book was not exactly what she had envisioned. Then again neither was the book really. But she was published, that's what mattered right? True she had used a pen name, but she knew the book was hers. The words on the pages her doing (well most of them anyway). But that image. It really didn't have all that much to do with the story in the book. Would people be disappointed when they read it? Would it make it more buyable as the publisher claimed. Well it was out of her hands. Thank God she...

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