I laughed the first time I saw the shirt. "I'm With Stupid," with an arrow underneith pointing to the right. It was funny because the star of the football team, who everyone knew couldn't add 2+2 together without serious help, walked next to him. I doubt either one realized what was going on, and when they saw me laughing, I have no clue what they thought I was going on about. Whatever. The arrow should have been pointing at the entire high school life anyway, right?

It wasn't until a few years later that I fully understood the significance of...

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There was blood on my pillow and when I woke up the right side of my mouth was swollen and swore. I rushed to the bathroom and rinsed the dried blood from my mouth. It came out in thick clumps at first, and then ran quickly as the crimson liquid. I pulled my cheeks wide and saw that three teeth were missing.

I ran back to my room, my jaw aching and throbbing with the intensity of a fire alarm. I lifted the blood stained pillow and saw three dollar bills lying there. They were crumpled and crimped but someone...

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People always said that I was like a coin. I had two sides.

No one really knew what side they were speaking to. I'd always laugh it off and say I as a Gemini by nature. I had two personalities. I had two ways of looking at things. I was two people.

Until one of them died. The happy side. The reasonable side. The rational side. The RIGHT side. For some reason I just stopped being a double act.

What was left was wrong. I am wrong now. Many people had left me when that side died. My sister would...

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"Please, just let me on!"

"Sorry sir, but we have regulations."

"Regulations? I am a citizen of the US. I served my country, and this is how my county serves me. I am looked down upon while leather and aftershave walks past me. Hundreds spent on a single meal for two, yet I collect cans and tips to buy a single meal from the arches at night. I try to get a job, but I have no address, no phone number. I am stuck because of your regulations. And does help come? No, the ones who do good - our...

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The sounds of the protest reverberated through the streets. Police on horseback formed walls, blocking the side streets, helicopters hovered overhead. The crowd pulsed and moved like blood in the veins. We held placards and shouted in time. People banged on drums and pots and pans and clapped their hands. Sirens wailed on either side.

Steel gates were pulled down or across the glass of storefronts. The media had terrified the small business owners and that terrified the public and then screamed about how we need to be stopped.

The fact they missed the point wasn't important. The fact they...

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Light.

Fuck light, right? Right.

Light just shows what I don't want to share, it takes away my CHOICE. Isn't that abusive or some such touchy-feely bullshit?

"Teacher? Light is taking away my choice!"

Yeah well, "teacher" would just tell me to STFU so...

Thing is...think is I, well, I crave it, yk? I crave it. I crave the light like I crave sugar or coffee (not caffeine - there's a difference).

Damn thing. Always seems to fling a little clarity at exactly what I've hidden so carefully away. I take care with my secrets hide them good. Keep them...

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Once upon a time there was little man whom no-one believed. His name was Henry, and he loved to go to parties. But when he said he would go, no-one thought he would turn up. And sometimes he didn't believe himself that he would go to the party. One day there was a fancy-dress party at the house of his cousin, the Lady Esmerelda Wallop-Smythe. "I'll be there!" Henry said. "Yeah, in a cocked hat!" said the Lady Esmerelda. So when he arrived in his best britches and dress uniform, he found that he was the only one who had...

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Heavy midnight. The crawl of the planchette under our fingertips. The triptych was coming alive. One creature sprang from the painted panel. A beast, horned and elephantine, illuminated by the moon through the cellar window.

It spoke to us through the board:

“Extradimensional bovine dreamfeeders graze upon fronds that sprout from the heads of sleepers. These dreams—long, lush, iridescent fancies rooted in neuronic soil and flowering up into the night—are their food.

“The beasts lumber through a meadow of musing at night, their jaws drooling plasmic sludge, their snorts ruffling moppet heads from across the chasm of dimension. They pass...

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It approached. Lisa's heartbeat quickened, her skin growing clammy, the room swimming. Oh my god, she thought, this can't be happening.
It came further - black and menacing, eyeing up it's latest victim.
Lisa knew she should do somehting, but fear had paralysed her. She couldn't think straight.
It stopped. Staring. Staring straight at her. Probably waiting to pounce.
She scanned the room, desperately looking for something she could use as a weapon. Nothing. Nothing that would do much damage, what could she do throw a pillow at it?
Without warning, it began to move again; faster than before. Almost...

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Now, Ma'am, your academy sounds like a wonderful place for Peter, but there is something you should know about my son before you take him on. Well, you see, he's not like other boys. Yes, I know he looks normal enough but he... Peter is a very - how do I say this - high maintenance teen. He can - well, look out the window. See how he's not talking to the others? Oh, he's talking her out of his pocket. That's Tinkerbell, Ma'am. Shh - just watch. There's the pixie dust and... he's flying. (Oh, thank the good Lord...

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