During the month of November, we will participate in NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) through the Young Writers Program. We will take a hiatus from updating this blog during this time.
Monday, October 31, 2011
Monsters Don't Live Underneath Your Bed
By Colby Antoine
Walking down the street, Cloud can't help but feel a certain uneasiness.
Walking down the street, Cloud can't help but feel a certain uneasiness.
"You scared?" Mars asks.
"No," replies Cloud with a smile. "Just excited."
Entwining his fingers with hers, the couple continues to walk down the street. As a few minutes go by, the sight of this huge big top comes into view. Cloud, now filled with excitement, pulls Mars to the entrance.
"Come on, come on!" she says.
"Alright, okay," chuckles Mars.
They enter the carnival. The smell of popcorn fills the air as both laughter and young children crying for their mothers drill into the couple's eardrums.
"Oh, over there!" yells Cloud, pulling Mars toward one of the many carnival games. For hours after that, Cloud and Mars joke around and play games together. He even wins her this huge teddy bear. Eventually, the sun begins to set, though. You see, the people who live around Washington Avenue have this great fear of the darkness. Before the sun sets and swallows up every bit of light from the world, they retreat into the comfort of their homes. Visitors always think that they are just strange people. Sadly, that same ignorance becomes their very doom.
The people of Washington Avenue are clearly not alone. A monstrous creature also lives within the small town. No one knows what it is, or where it came from. All they know is that every night, the sound of razor sharp claws tearing through human flesh fills the streets as fear eats away at the residents' hearts.
"Well, should we be heading back now?" asks Mars.
"Oh man, I didn't even notice the sun setting. You think we can make it back home in time?" asks Cloud.
Cloud stares at Mars for a moment as that uneasy feeling begins to grip her heart again. Noticing that she is staring at him, Mars looks at her and smiles. He then grabs her hand, and they start walking around the carnival. Everyone else has already left. What was just a few minutes ago a joyful carnival is now nothing but a vacant, creepy place. Getting even more frightened, Cloud grips Mars's arm tightly. He laughs, then pulls her close so that their faces are only a few inches away.
"What's the matter? Scared, are you?" he asks her.
"No. Are you scared?" Cloud asks.
"Of course not."
"You should be."
Toin
By Keion Haydel
Toin, a name feared by the elderly and unknown to the adolescents who would walk around at night freely. Explorers would tread cautiously in the woods at all times of day, listening for their mortal enemy. Toin was no pirate, no thief, and no tyrant. Toin was a demon, and a very powerful one at that. His skin was ripped in many places since he was involved in the war in Heaven which had cast Lucifer and his followers down to Earth. His form was of a coy-wolf, covered in chains, and wielding in one hand a large mace. His stench was a strong musk, which smelled of urine and death. His presence could be felt from miles away, so it was quite easy for people to prepare for his arrival, but the chance of survival in an encounter was thin as paper.
Toin was weak in the prime of his existence, and had to feast upon earthly vegetation to survive. He needed more, and one day walked upon a small village in the thick. It was dark out, and the only life detectable was a woman who was tending to her cattle. His eyes started to glow a bright yellow and his pupils dilated to an almost invisible size. He crept up slowly, trying to control his urge to lash out and split her in half. Toin got close enough to grab her from behind and get her on her stomach. He ripper her apart, rejoicing within himself from her screams of pain. As he drained the last bit of blood from her body, his eyes began to glow a deep red. No pupils were seen, just a demonic red glow. He had finally uncovered what could unleash the true demon inside of him. Blood would begin his reign on earth.
Two years after this incident, Toin's name was on everyone's tongue--from adolescents to the elderly who once feared him only as a fairytale. However, there was one man who didn't believe in the stories that he heard from the guards and explorers at the local taverns. Brae Gorham was an explorer and a traveling merchant. He was of a decent size to defend himself in battle, so he always traveled alone unless it was trade week. He would listen to the wild stories of sightings and battles with the demon, and his response would always be, "I"ve been in the forest at night, during harsh conditions, and I have yet to come across such a beast." Men would just turn the other cheek towards Brae's responses to their stories. He was lucky to have never even smelled the stench of the demon, for just that could result in illness or death. Brae was in Holstoff for the week because of trade week there. Holstoff was the second largest city at that time, and hosted trade week every year. Trade week brought thousands and almost millions to the large crowded city to trade items, get jobs, and leave much wealthier than when they arrived. With this large crowd came destruction. Toin found this as good a place as any to begin his master plan.
Brae, being a registered trader, began to set up his booth in the crowded marketplace. He traded general goods and weaponry, so his booth was of a much bigger size than others. The marketplace would be open soon, so he had to rush to get his things together. He'd been trading for years, so this was of no real challenge.
As he completed setting up his booth, a beautiful woman with brunette hair and a perfect figure walked up to his booth. Without looking up, he felt her presence and quickly said, "The market officially opens in twenty minutes, ma'am. There's nothing I can do for you at the moment." She smiled and placed her hand on the table, causing him to raise his head and stop wiping the boards. They exchanged smiles and she extended her hand. "I am Laiyah, and I'm no buyer. I'm just trying to see what my competition is made of." "You sell the general merchandise?" Brae said, gazing upon her beautiful face. Her eyes were a light green, and they showed signs of peace in them. Her natural aura was just, amazing--like nothing he'd ever seen before in his life. Laiyah nodded and extended her hand. "It was nice meeting you, Mr...?" she raised a brow. He took her hand and kissed it. "Brae Gorham, my lady. The pleasure is all mine." She walked away as shoppers rushed into the square, and Brae couldn't take his eyes off of her. Later that night, all the merchants were scheduled to have their nightly jam at the tavern. It was filled with people and the night seemed to be going by perfectly. Brae was socializing and flirting with the beautiful Laiyah, and all the merchants were drunk and having a good time. Outside, the city gates were being infiltrated by something that would turn the night around.
Ten guards sat at the front gate of the city that led directly into town square, and one of them smelled a familiar odor. "Nate, do you smell that, lad?" asked one of the guards to his partners. Nate nodded and stood as if he were ready for battle, and started to tremble in fear. The guard looked to him, worried. "Nate. Aye, Nate?! What's wrong with ya, lad?" Nate stepped back as the stench grew stronger and eventually retreated, yelling, "Run! Run for your lives or you will all die, I tell you!" The other guards looked as they heard large footsteps approaching; their faces focusing on the trees as if awaiting a bear or mountain lion.
The guards dropped their weapons and stood in fear, shaking at the sight of Toin. All that was heard was a demonic roar, which sounded like a thousand souls screaming in pain and the roars of vicious dragons all mixed in one. At the tavern, nothing was heard--just the enjoyment of people, laughter, and loud conversations. All of a sudden, the noise died. The crowd froze, and a dark spirit came over everyone's spirit. The merchants had smelled the horrible odor of the demon. Everyone began to scatter and run out of the tavern, but what they did not know was that Toin was waiting for their stupidity and fear to lead them out of the tavern. They all grouped together at one stop, facing the demon as he wore a belt of six severed human heads upon his waist. Toin let out his demonic roar and the crowd broke out in every direction. Brae came out of the tavern staring into the eyes of the creature, not amazed but somewhat drawn to him. Toin locked his gaze to Brae and said in his demonic voice, which sounded similar to ten men talking at once in a deep tone, "You, finally, mine."
Brae ran in fear, hearing the voice inside of his head, and Toin ran effortlessly after him, playing with his fear. He grabbed Brae by the shirt and threw him in a large alleyway, staring him down.
"Your soul is empty. You do not believe in me, Gorham, and you do not believe in the creator or his enemies. We do not believe in you either, for your body is merely a shell that I may use at my will." Toin glared into Brae's eyes, laughing. Brae was amazed. He was not a spiritual person, and the fact that this creature was telepathically communicating with him was enough to change his mind completely. "Please, no. I'm sorry. I can't go out like this. What are you?" Brae said, sneaking for his sword to fight the beast while his guard was down.
"I am what is not to come until the future. I have to fulfill my prophecy, and you will assist me, whether you wish to or not. I will have your temple," Toin said as his eyes began to glow.
Brae raised his sword as Toin rushed at him.
Everything turns to complete black. Nothing is to be heard.
The next day, the town is back to normal, and trade week continues with extra guard presence. Laiyah stands at her booth as Brae walks up to her and smiles. "So, you managed to get away, hmm?" she smiles happily, hugging and kissing him. He takes her off to the side. "We have to talk, but not here."
Brae takes her to the tavern, which is empty and being blessed later that day. He guides her upstairs and holds her hands. "Darling, you need to help me with something. It's very important and will determine the fate of millions."
Laiyah nods, "What is it, my dear?" She looks deep into his eyes, awaiting his response.
Brae leans in toward her and whispers int her ear in a demonic tone, "Give me your temple."
The Tangible
By Stanley Blackman
Lying in my bed, I am relaxing my nerves. Slowly drifting off to sleep, it feels as if I am halfway lucid and halfway unconscious, like my mind just won't let go and fall completely asleep. So I lie there experiencing the best of both worlds. Anything that comes to mind, I'm seeing and doing it as if I'm controlling the world--but somewhere in the back of my mind, I know it isn't real. As I live out my imaginations and control my own world, I feel myself falling deeper and deeper unconscious; I am now unaware of reality.
In an instant, I feel this horrible vibe--something dark and evil. It engulfs my feelings with fear and my beautiful imaginations go away. Everything turns dark and a pair of ominous eyes appear in my sight. I am speechless and horrified, so I close my eyes and pretend I don't see anything. At that point, I jump back into reality. I am calm and relaxed as I simply say to the dark spirit, "So, what... you just going around messing with the tangible?" My satire must have really agitated the evil spirit because I feel myself stiffening as if I am undergoing paralysis. Then I say, "Instead of testing my willpower, why don't you be a man, or whatever you are, and fight like a man!"
The evil spirit begins manifesting itself and the physiognomy of the thing is repulsive--two fiery-red eyes, decayed sharp teeth, grayish black fur surrounds its body, and it has a tail that stretches seven feet long. He pulls out a sword with human souls surrounding it and raises it up for combat. We stand there staring at each other, not saying a word, and then it happens. It was almost like a tacit agreement--before you know it, he launches at me with his soul eating sword, so I quickly pick up the first thing I see, a pillow.
2 O Clock
By Dannielle Antoine
It was two a.m. and I was extremely tired. I had just started working on my senior project and the same day I had to finish my scary story that was due the next day. I decided to use the same scary story I've been using since eighth grade, but it didn't work out. Ironically, my own scary story took place that night.
While everyone was asleep, darkness filled the house. The lamp beside me made a figure on the wall, which I wasn't used to. I didn't see anything until I started describing my character. I began to type, "The blackness of her pupils quickly filled her small eyes. She wore a scruffy, baggy jumper that weirdly matched her white bracelet. Her face was surprisingly smooth and her hair was pulled in one neat ponytail." My lamp went out. Of course, it scared the crap out of me. I quickly got up, flying to turn on my light switch. On my way there, I ran into something. Something I wasn't familiar with. I sat there for a second, trying to remember if I had set something in the middle of the floor.
Like any scared person would do, while getting my laptop I looked everywhere but in the middle of the floor. I walked through the house, turning on each light that lead to the living room. I sat on the sofa, paranoid. I began to type again. "Behind her was a man..." My focus had now gone to his shadow that wasn't the shape of him but "a creature, somewhat demon-like."
I started to feel a breeze on my shoulder that made me shiver with confusion. It was never this cold. I started toward the dark hallway but something stopped me. I felt eyes watching me. It was a dark shadow that I saw, coming toward me. I stood there waiting. Wishful thinking, I thought it was my mom. "Yeah, I'm almost done," I said. I waited for a reply or for my mom to walk back, but it was quiet. The shadow stood there. Red eyes lit up, blinking at me. I suddenly felt weak. It came closer to me, sliding its hands on my face. I knew this was no shadow. Its hands were rough, but soft. The heat from it was strong. I didn't know I was sweating until it ran down my face. It put its face in the dim of my computer light and I saw what it was. The devil.
It was beautiful, yet scary. It stood there staring at me. Before I could do anything, it quickly grabbed me. We fell through the ground. I felt every evil dark vibe in these small tunnels. Turn right, turn left, make a U-turn. We were flying. Then a sudden stop came. I looked to find the Devil reaching his arms out toward me and like any naive child I went to him. After, it became pitch black. It was a quick pain that made me jump up from my chair. I had fallen asleep writing my paper.
All of a sudden, my light bulb went out. I didn't think much of it. Turning on my light switch, I saw a little girl sitting on the floor with her legs crossed. Her head was down. I stood there in shock. I actually pissed on myself looking at her. "What are you doing in my room?" I asked, nervously shaking. When she spoke, it wasn't a little girl voice--it was an old lady.
"You're in my room," she said. "What?!" I looked around, and it wasn't my room.
The walls were a stone cold brick and the chair that I was sitting on was dead bodies. She got up and I saw a man behind her, this time stepping in the light. "Remember? When you came with me?" I started to run toward the door, but there was no door. I screamed, but not a sound came out. The room started shaking and I blacked out. It was my mom shaking me.
"You were screaming," she said.
"I had a bad dream."
"Must have been some bad dream," she said, walking out.
The next day was regular, except for the two F's I got for not finishing my papers. When I got home, the doorbell rang. I looked at the time, but it was only two in the afternoon. I ran to the door thinking it was my mom who had gotten off early from work.
Opening the door, I saw a little girl with a red bow on her head--the same girl as in my dream. A man was standing behind her. "Hey, my dad and I are selling cookies. Would you like to buy some?" she asked. My eyes automatically went to his weird shadow that stood behind him.
"What's that?" I asked.
He didn't say anything. Instead, the little girl did. "His friend," she said, smiling, "said you've already met him."
Sorry About the Haunted House
By Ebony Fisher
There was this family--a single mother with two children, one boy and one girl. They were twins, at the age of ten. On the night this event took place, it was a thunderous, stormy night. Mother had gotten up to check on the kids, Tiffany and Tim, to see if they were okay. She walked out of her room, grabbing the flashlight off her nightstand in case the lights were to go out.
As she jogged up the stairs, she slipped on a piece of chewed up bologna, and fell on her knees. The kids were supposed to clean up the house that day. There were toys, ripped clothes, and chewed shoes all over the steps and at the top of the second floor of the house. As mother walked a little slower, she heard foot steps behind her, but she didn't see anything. All of a sudden, the lights flashed off. It was pitch dark now, but she still walked up the stairs to check on her kids. Almost at the top, she heard a loud knock. She ignored it but the knock got louder and louder. Finally, when she made it to the top of the stairs, it stopped.
She went straight into the kids' room. Both children were sound asleep. As she scanned the room with the flashlight, she noticed their dog, Roscoe, wasn't in the room with them. Now thinking back, she remembered she put him outside for tearing up the house earlier that day. She thought the banging at the door she had heard earlier must have been Roscoe. She began walking back downstairs when the lights suddenly came back on. When Mom had made it downstairs, she immediately went to the front door to let Roscoe in. As she turned the knob slightly, the light went out again.
Now, a bit frightened, mother went to turn the knob again. The door swung open. Slam! It knocked down the vase behind the door. After all the commotion, she heard footsteps upstairs. She yelled, "Everything's okay, kids. Go back to bed." The footsteps got louder. She yelled once more, "I said everything's okay. Get back in your beds!" Mother then noticed she'd had the door open for about three minutes, but there was still no sign of Roscoe. She whistled and shouted "Roscoe, Roscoe! Come here, boy!" Still, no Roscoe. She walked under the porch to see if she could see him through the rain.
Roscoe had been a gift to her children from her deceased husband. He had been killed in their last house during a home robbery. The funny thing about that was that the robber never stole anything.
Mother called out "Roscoe, Roscoe" once more. And still, she didn't see him. As she turned and headed inside, she began to hear barking. She turned around, but didn't see anything at first. She tried looking past the rain another time. As she squinted to see if she could see him, she saw a red spot in the grass moving towards her. It got closer and closer. It was Roscoe, bloody, wet, and ripped in two. Yet he was still walking. Confused at this, she rubbed her eyes to make sure she wasn't seeing things. It was Roscoe, though. He continued walking toward her when she was a man, about 6'3", walking behind him who looked like he'd been shot in the head and stabbed in the heart and stomach.
She ran inside. Now the man began banging on the door, hard. "Sweetie, open up! Don't you miss me, honey?" said the man. "Babe, open up for me and Roscoe. We need to talk to you." "No!" she screamed. The man shouted through the door, "Why'd you kill me and Tommy, darling? I thought you loved us. But I see you loved this house more." Breaking the glass with his fist, he reached through the door and unlocked it. The man and Roscoe entered.
When they got married, she knew that she would inherit three million dollars the day he died. They had been married a year when she had gotten pregnant with triplets--Tiffany, Tim, and Tommy. They had been looking at a certain house for about four years but they could never afford it. She was obsessed with the house; she would visit it every day. One night, she decided she was going to get that house by any means. That's when the planned the fake robbery and death of her husband. She shot him three times in the head and also stabbed him in the heart, stomach, and back. Five year old Tommy woke up from all the noise. He saw his dad dead. Before he could say or do anything, she shot her son in the head once. Little Tommy died instantly.
Now she stood there face to face with her zombie husband. "Honey, I love you." He kissed her deeply. After the kiss, he grabbed her neck. "I love you, babe, and I think we should make up and be together for the rest of our lives. Ha ha. But, wait! We should have the whole family here. Come here, Tommy." Tommy walked down the stairs. "Yes, Daddy?" "Do you want to be a family again?" dad asked. "Yes," Tommy said, excited. "Go get your brother and sister." Tommy headed back upstairs to get them. Mom yelled, "Don't hurt my children!" What she didn't know was that they were already dead when she checked on them earlier. Two ghost-like versions of Tiffany and Tim walked down the steps, seeming to float. "See, honey. All we need now is you," Dad said.
No Joke
By Demequis Coler
Halloween never really excited me; the day was pointless! While all my friends were out partying, I was home alone watching Pretty Little Liars On Demand. I was all into it, when all of a sudden I heard a glass fall. "What was that? Is someone here?"
I ran to the corner of my room, hoping that the sound would go away. I just kept hearing the sound getting closer and closer. Finally, it went away! I got my phone to call someone for help, but as soon as I dialed, my service went out. This had to be the worst thing ever. I couldn't believe what was happening. Home alone, no service--I felt like I was a victim in a scary movie. Was someone playing a joke on me?
Agatha
By Brion Francis
In the year 1940, a young woman had a child. Instead of loving her child, she hated her. She named her Agatha. When little Agatha was five years old, her mother beat her to death. She was then put into the upstairs bathroom in a tub filled with hot water. The mother then fled and was never seen again.
Fifty years later, a new family moved into the house. It was a mother, father, and two kids--Emily and Robby--who were ten and thirteen. One night, Emily woke up from her sleep because she had a bad dream. She had seen a mother murdering her daughter. Emily was scared to go back to sleep, so she decided to go take a shower, hoping it would maker her tired and wash away the thoughts that were in her head.
When she walked into the bathroom, she heard the sound of water moving in the bathtub. She then pulled the shower curtain over. Emily saw a little girl in the tub singing "Ring around the Rosie." She was so scared that she couldn't scream. She closed her eyes, and when she opened them the girl was gone. Emily tried to run out of the bathroom, but she tripped over some towels that were on the floor. The ghost of Agatha had come back, and she brutally murdered Emily.
The next morning, Emily's older brother, Robby, walked in and found Emily dead, along with red handprints on the bathroom mirror. He gave a loud scream and their parents rushed into the bathroom to see what was going on. To their dismay, their daughter was dead.
Two nights later, the mother woke up because she heard a voice. It was her daughter, saying, "Go check on Robby." When the mother walked into Robby's room, she found him hanging from his ceiling fan with his head chopped off. She screamed so loud it woke up her husband. They immediately called 911. A special detective came and explained that there were ghosts in the house who always killed the kids. The family packed up their stuff and moved far, far away.
Burned
By Theresa Canselo
Mary Lewis was a nine year old girl who lived with her mother and brother in Far Hills, New Jersey, a small town with less than 1,000 people.
Mary grew up living a hard life because her mother abandoned her as a baby, just because she looked like her father. She felt as though she was neglected, not only at home, but at school as well. Her self confidence and self-esteem were very low. She felt like a loner. She would have to come home, do her homework alone, cook her own food, and sleep in a small room downstairs. Her mother dared her brother to help her. If he didn't, he would be put up for adoption.
One night, Mary's mother and brother decided to go out to the movies and leave Mary at home to clean the house. Of course, she had no choice but to do so. Upon the return of her mother, the house was spotless and Mary was sound asleep. When Mary was cooking, she forgot to turn the stove off, and around two in the morning, the kitchen went up in flames. Her mother jumped out of her sleep, ran to grab her son, and out of the house they went--leaving Mary in her bed to burn to death.
An hour later, firefighters found Mary in her room with third degree burns, but still breathing. She was rushed to the hospital, where she was kept for two months. Not once did her mother come to see her. In fact, after the fire, Mary's mother moved to Chicago and left the house with the insurance company.
Upon Mary's recovery, she was forced to stay with her Aunt Helena in Cape May Point, a few miles away from Far Hills. Mary had to go back to school, where she was made fun of even more and neglected because of her looks.
It all ended about a year later, when a student came to school dressed like Mary. She ran out of the schoolhouse and back to the home that was burned almost to ash. When she got there, she noticed that the house was rebuilt and a different car was parked in the driveway. Mary then snuck into the attic, where she lived for two weeks before committing suicide.
The new family in the house didn't know anything about Mary and her family, so they basically thought they were living a wonderful life. As they fell asleep that night, the youngest boy heard a noise in the kitchen, but was too afraid to get out of bed.
Minutes later, the smell of smoke filled the air, thick and black. The mother jumped out of her bed, ran to the kitchen, and quickly extinguished the fire.
"Honey, did you forget to turn the stove off?"
"No, mom! Must've been Ashley. She's always forgetting something."
"Well, where is she?"
"Well, where is she?"
"She went out with David and Marie!"
The mother then told her little boy to go back to bed, only to find that their beds were on fire, with a message written on the wall in blood:
You will all burn as I did!
The mother then ran to grab her son, only to see that he was rolling in fire. She threw a blanket over him and ran outside to call 9-1-1. Firefighters quickly responded and arrived to extinguish the fire.
The little boy was looking at the attic window and saw Mary Lewis's face, burned and bloody, but of course it was a ghostly figure. When he told his mother, she didn't believe him. She figured it was just the smoke messing with his head.
Four years later, the house was put up for auction. The insurance company was tired of paying for fires.
About three years later, six teens took a trip to Far Hills, thinking they were going to have a wonderful weekend. As they pulled up to the old abandoned house, windows and doors were boarded up and screams could be heard inside. The teens paused in their steps and looked at each other, puzzled. Chad was the oldest and toughest of the bunch. Thinking that entering the house was nothing, he slowly entered, brave and cautious.
As night fell upon the teens, Chad decided that they should drink beer and blast loud music. Ashley, Chad's girlfriend, wanted to take a shower. In the bathroom, she noticed burned towels in the corner and burned spots in the tub. As Ashley stepped into the shower, the lights went off and a candle was lit. She fell in the tub and hit her head on the faucet. Ashley slowly got up in pain, bleeding, when the shower curtain began to burn. She tried to escape, but she couldn't. Lying in the tub, Ashley burned silently.
Back in the living room, Chad and the rest of the gang started another game of charades. Chad's brother brother Al was in his boxers, half drunk and falling on the floor, laughing. Al slowly walked to the guest room bathroom. Staggering to get himself to the toilet, he began to urinate on himself. As he turned to walk out of the bathroom, a quick flash of flame slammed into his chest, and within seconds Al fell to the floor with a deep hole in his chest.
Not knowing that Mary Lewis's spirit still lived in the house, the teens continued to party and get even drunker. Out of the six, the other four began to worry since it had been a half hour since Al and Ashley disappeared.
Chad got up from the couch to check on his girl, to find her in the tub with blood and burn marks. He freaked out! Chad ran back to the living room to tell his friends what had happened. They began to scream and panic. The four teens then ran upstairs to get their bags, when all of the lights went out and all of the bulbs were replaced with flames.
Nikki, Chad's little sister, broke down in tears and ran for the stairs. She missed a step and down the stairs she went, tumbling as the stairs went up in flames. Nikki ran to the kitchen, body in flames, to try to extinguish herself, but she wasn't successful. The spirit of Mary Lewis left a message on the counter saying, "Should've paid attention."
Being that only three people were left to live, Chad jumped off the second floor balcony, and his body quickly went up in flames. Chad ran to the backyard and jumped into the pool. His body went into total shock. Fortunately, Chad didn't die, but his heart was showing through his chest.
Malaya, one of the two others living, tried to call 9-1-1, but the call wasn't successful. Malaya and her ex-boyfriend, Leo, ran for the stairs. Standing at the top of the staircase, they noticed that the stairs were brittle and burned. With light footsteps, the two crept downstairs and suddenly fell through the stairs to the basement. The basement was dark and smelled of burnt wood and bodies. There were lit candles all around. The two held hands, sweating and crying, trying to escape the death trap. Leo decided to escape through the air vents, but that was a sure death trap.
Malays followed Leo cautiously, praying they could escape to safety. Crawling through the small air vents, it began to get hot and stuffy. The metal began to get hotter. Leo began to start crawling faster, finding himself crawling into a bed of fire. Leo burned, right in front of Malaya's eyes. She let out a painful and sorrowful scream, trying to get out of the vents. She found her way, falling to the kitchen floor. The dead body of her friend Nikki broke her fall. Getting up, covered in blood and burn blisters, Malaya heard a crackling in the ceiling and saw small fireballs falling, landing softly on her skin like snow.
The house quickly went up in flames. Malaya crawled quickly to the back door in the kitchen. As she stood to open the door, it flung open and she screamed helplessly. In the arms of the firefighter, Malaya coughed and cried, weakly, thinking of her friends laying in the house full of blood and burned to ashes.
Madison Square Goredon
By Ronald Johnson
During the late 1900s, there was a family better known as the Madison family, just married. The Madison family was well established, with three kids. After being married, life was heading down a great road. The family decided to move to an isolated area. Little did they know the house they purchased was filled with spirits. Journey with me on this Friday the 13th through Madison Square Goredon, better known as Spirit World.
After three years passed, everything seemed cool. I mean, there were all sorts of noises at night, but we never bothered because we knew the house was old. We heard sounds as if someone were walking up the stairs, or it seemed as if someone were playing with the dishes in the kitchen. Sometimes the house was just too quiet.
One Friday changed everything forever. It was 11:11 p.m. when there was an unexpected knock at the door. No one ever visited the Madison place. Why would they? It was in the middle of nowhere. The father opened the door, but there was nothing in sight. Soon, as he turned around to head back to the couch, there was a second knock--this time, he found something disturbing. On the door, he found a note which read "GET OUT."
He thought someone was playing a joke, so he didn't bother. As he sat back on the couch, flicking through the TV minutes later, the lights started to dim in and out. The family gathered in the front room freaking out when there was a third knock. They approached the door slowly. The door swung open. The lights were still flickering on and off. Every time the light blinked on, they saw a different person. There were a total of five, all with black eyes covered in blood. They tried to escape from the house, but the doors and windows were forced locked. They thought of every way possible to escape, but they all seemed to fail.
Nevertheless, each of them started to end up missing, one by one, til they were all gone. But there was one who survived--the oldest child. Even though he didn't die that night, he wishes he had. Just knowing what happened there that night eats him alive. Now that years have passed, he shares his story with tourists who visit. No one ever moved into Madison Square Goredon again. After every tour, he looks in the top window and there he sees his family covered in blood, looking down on him as if they are waiting for him to join them one day.
Lucid Dreams
By Marcus Smith
A few years ago, a young woman was found dead in her apartment. Everyone believed that she died from an overdose, but her boyfriend knew that she died from something worse.
He knew that she was taking sleeping pills, but she only took one every night, so an overdose was out of the question. He started to do some research on his girlfriend's computer, until he found a website about "controlling your dreams." The idea was called "lucid dreams," and like the website said, it's about a person controlling their own dreams because they are aware that they are dreaming. At first, he thought it was a stupid idea because there was no way a person could control their own dreams, but later on he changed his mind.
Home Alone
By Stansheyaka Washington
It was October 13, 2011. One of the most haunted days on the calendar, but also the anniversary of Calvin and Maria. They were Ethologists who studied the behavior of people who claimed to see the afterlife. Tonight they would be celebrating by going on an dinner date in the city. Their young daughter would be staying home alone. She had successfully persuaded her parents that she was responsible enough to look after herself. She was excited, as most teenagers would be, to stay home alone. But she soon found out that it was not as great as she thought it would be.
She sat on the long, dark sofa in the middle of the living room. It was late now, so not many shows were on. With nothing to watch, she pulled out her cell phone and began to tweet. "Mom left. Home alone! #Finally!" During the process of sending her tweet, her phone froze. Quickly becoming annoyed, she tossed her phone aside and turned her attention back to the television. She began to flicker through the channels, barely noticing that each time she turned, the same chilling smile and glowing eyes momentarily appeared on characters in the background of the screen. Her cell phone vibrated on the couch, symbolizing the tweet had been sent at last. When she picked up the phone, she noticed a new person was following her. She clicked on the picture of a handsome young boy who didn't seem to be much younger than she was. His profile had no information and he had only two tweets. One read, "I'm going to visit you tonight." Posted today at 7:30. The other read, "I'm here." It was also posted today, at 8:00.
Her face began to back away from the screen. The sound of the large bell in her living room blasted, causing her to jump slightly. The clock just struck eight. Her mind came to ease, realizing that she and the mysterious boy were in two different time zones. Again, she tossed her phone on the couch, annoyed, and a little creeped out. A preview on the TV announced that one of her favorite movies would be coming on soon, so she went to the kitchen to get a snack. When she came back, the screen was black and white with static. She quickly dashed to the sofa to grab the remote control. Frantically, she pressed numerous buttons, but the channel did not change.
An image appeared on the screen. It was a boy. He sat motionless with his head down. His hair seemed wet and his skin pale and colorless. She tried again to change the channel as the boy slowly raised his head. He stared at her--almost through her. His face seemed familiar. It was the face of the boy on the profile. She ran to the TV and unplugged it from the wall socket.
Frightened, she reached for her phone. Her first thought was to call her mother and tell her to come home. But if she did that, she would never be able to stay home alone again. She knew that this couldn't be real, and assumed that is was all the plan of her parents to see if she would be fearless or not. She walked through the house, turning on every light along the way. This had to be her mind playing tricks on her. She ran up the steps to her room. She thought to call her best friend, but her phone had a terrible signal. So, she sat on her bed, motionless. She was bored and petrified--a terrible combination.
The wind outside was blowing hard and she could hear the tree's branches clashing. It seemed as if she heard every creak throughout the house. She walked over and closed the window, only to come back and sit back on her bed. She heard slow steps thumping against her hardwood floors. She said in almost a whisper, "Is anyone there?" There was no reply.
She slowly stood and walked to the bathroom, locking the door behind her. She was truly losing her mind. Almost trying to verify her sanity, she turned on the sink and splashed water in her face. She reached out a blind hand for the towel, but paused when she got it. It was almost as if it were passed to her. Her arms trembled and she brought the cloth back to her face. She dried her eyes and stood tall in front of the mirror, only to see the reflection of herself and the young boy. She screamed, but her voice fell upon dead ears. No one could hear her. No one could help her. And because she chose to be home alone, no one ever saw her again.
Nightmare on Huntlee Street
By Juanita Williams
It was October 31, 2009, Halloween night. Four female teenagers were at school in detention. The teacher told the girls that when the bell rang, they could leave. When the teacher left, that's when the nightmare started.
There was a loud noise from upstairs, like a ringing bell. The lights shut off. They all screamed.
Jane, the bravest of the group, tried to calm everyone down. "Wait! Stop screaming and let's try to find the light switch."
They felt around the room, and Nicole found the switch. She flicked the switch on and off, but it did not work. "It's not coming on! We're going to die!" she yelled.
Then the bell rang three times and there was a loud sound coming from the speakers.
"My name is Edna Karr. Leave before I kill you all. Sixty minutes you must survive; after that you'll surely die."
Laura yelled, "Who's that on the speaker? Stop playing and turn on the lights."
There was no answer.
"Come on and let's go. Our time is up anyways," Jane said, walking to the door. "I can't open it!" Jane pulled at the door knob. "It's locked!"
Nicole ran to the door and grabbed the knob frantically, beginning to cry when the door didn't open.
Laura yelled, "Stop all that crying, you big baby!"
"You two stop all of that," Jane said. "Let's put our minds together and get out of here."
Johnae jumped around. "Oh, I got it!" Everyone turned her way. "How about we just fly through the wall. Duhh!"
Laura looked at Johnae and rolled her eyes. "Stop with your shenanigans."
The door suddenly opened, with a squeak, and the girls just stood still and looked. Jane said, "Well, let's not just stand here. Let's go!" Everyone ran to the door, but it slammed closed again.
Edna Karr returned on the loud speaker again. "Hahaha, it's not that easy, you crazy fools, to find your way around this school."
The girls all ran around the first floor to find an open door. There was no luck. The three bells from the loud speaker came on. It was Edna Karr again.
"Ten more minutes--do your best. Find the place where talent's expressed."
Johnae thought about the film-making room. Laura thought about art class. Nicole thought about the theater. Jane yelled, "I know where it is!" The girls looked at her. "It's the auditorium." The girls all ran to the auditorium, but the doors were locked.
Laura yelled, "What about the cafeteria?!"
"I'm hungry too," Johnae said.
Monday, September 26, 2011
Confessional
(Rambling Autobiography)
By J. Ferguson
I was born on a cliff overlooking the Pacific on a date that makes me a waterbearer.
At the age of eight, I lost a bike race by cracking the radius and ulna in my left wrist as I flipped over the handlebars of a baby blue Schwinn.
Airplanes make me faint.
Every year just before Christmas, my family gathers to make tamales. As the youngest of the cousins, my job is to perpetually peel green chilies until my fingers wrinkle into submission.
My high school music teacher told me, “You’re more likely to find Jesus in the bars than in the churches,” and made me swear not to consider marriage before the age of 25.
I love it when the music in my car coincides with the rhythm of something I can see through my windshield—birds swooping in unison, the blinking of a broken traffic light, or little girls chanting jump-rope rhymes.
In college, I majored in Biblical Languages. I have a deeper knowledge of a dead language (Koine Greek) than the living language my grandparents were too afraid to teach my mom (Spanish).
In 2010, I joined an organization of teachers who brush their teeth fortissimo (ff) and sleep in an upright and locked position.
Sometimes I wonder if a software swindle of epic proportions would ignite a computer nerd bat signal to summon my brother to New Orleans.
The first three letters of my first name + the first two letters of my middle name + the first three letters of my last name = my first name. [Jennifer.]
There are three items on my bucket list. One is to learn to play the accordion. One is to visit the graves of my Mexican ancestors on Dia de los Muertos. The third is a secret.
My Creative Writing students make me want to be a better person.
Rambling Autobiography
By Stansheyaka Washington
My name is Stansheyaka. I spelled it wrong on the LEAP test. And yeah, that’s 57 percent of the alphabet. You probably can’t pronounce it and if you say it wrong I probably won’t correct you. Cool things happened in 94. I mean hey, I was born. I have twin brothers. They are both double trouble and double jeopardy. I’ve been going to Edna Karr so long, I’d bathe an old person before I would wear a purple or gold piece of clothing outside of these walls. I used to want to stay home and never go to school. Now, I go to school so I won’t have to stay in my home. I’m a naturally nervous person. I have small panic attacks before any presentation. Even something small, like introducing myself. I never wanted to be a doctor until eighth grade. Before then, I just wanted to “fix” people. My vision is terrible. I can barely see what I’m typing. I’m scared of anything feline and I’m infatuated with pandas. I like every song ever featured on a shampoo commercial. If I could, I would take an English class in place of every class math related. I think I’m smart but I don’t have documents to prove it. I can tell you a million facts about me, but I can’t tell you who I am or who I’ll become.
Rambling Autobiography
By Lorenzo McMillan
When I was two I beat up Chuck E Cheese. I moved to Alabama because my mom was in nursing school. The friends I made were country and smelled like horse meat. When I was nine, I was alone and felt helpless. Soon after I started seeeing a therapist because of anger issues. The stories behind my stories I’d never tell. Friends were limited and I was fine with that. I never rode horseback. Then again, Elvis Presley was never a racist. Between moving away from home and coming back, I never thought it would be so different. My mom’s dad died when I was like four or five. I never missed somone that much in my life. My dad’s dad died when I was fifteen and I couldn’t comprehend the sadness. As far as my great grandmother is concerned, I never thought she would kick the can. I had my first girlfriend when I was 8. Now that I think about it, rats never had fleas. Or did they? I’ve never seen the painting of Blue Boy. I see enough blue in a day. I find that if you talk to people being yourself, you earn self respect. Knowing you don’t have to please others makes a difference. The music I listen to makes you feel like life is worth the wait. Wait for what? I guess I will find out at some point.
Rambling Autobiography
By Dannielle Antoine
Life for me is hard. I try to find any quote that matches my life or to keep me strong. Any important advice I keep it, save it and sometimes I even remember it. I take walks to keep things off my mind, just to keep me sane. I find sights that aren’t very appealing to people very beautiful. I always look at another view. I often sit by the levee just watching the water and the sun as it begins to set. Every now and then I'll see someone pass and they’ll stare or sometimes sit. I’ll wonder if they were there for the same reason I was. Struggling in life and just guessing whenever things will get better. Sitting there is my getaway, no problems, no worries, no one to bother me, no tears, just the moment. Even when I know someone else has it worse than me and behind it all I am blessed, but I’m slowly losing myself, trying to find my way back. I am 17, not an average 17 year old. Born in New Orleans, Louisiana. Somehow believing I’m from Tokyo, Japan. My thoughts get way out of hand and I have no control over them. My mind wonders off in space when I’m trying to focus in class. I have no idea what I want to be in life and I may not know for a while or maybe when I’m in college. I just want to travel the world, I know there’s more to life than just this. I know there is happiness somewhere. I know I may not be living in reality and maybe that’s why it feels like everyone is against me. Against me and my thoughts. My dreams. I’ve come to the conclusion I am not normal. I believe when I get older I will write myself into fame, into finding something, doing all the things I want to do. With a bunch of people doubting me and everyone laughing at me. I have no problem with that. I'm just trying to prove them or at least someone wrong. I have something, something I want to share with the world. Questions I want to ask, things I want to know. I walk real fast. I’m attracted to white guys. I often wonder why we go to bed worrying, knowing that we may not wake up the next morning. No one likes to think that way so eventually we worry ourselves to death. I hate orange candy. I’m addicted to water. My generation is based upon pain pills and Marijuana. I have a guitar that collects dust. My first time lighting a cigarette was in the 5th grade. I plan on waiting till I’m married. I’m catholic. Sometimes people may have a big imagination or get the wrong interpretation, so I don’t believe everything the bible says. Believe me, God is real. Black on the outside, white in the inside. I’ve been called an Oreo since Middle School. I always feel like I’m alone. I read books to join another world. Its amazing the places a book can take you. Im Dannielle by the way, and that’s with 2 N’s. I hope you’ll remember me.
Life for me is hard. I try to find any quote that matches my life or to keep me strong. Any important advice I keep it, save it and sometimes I even remember it. I take walks to keep things off my mind, just to keep me sane. I find sights that aren’t very appealing to people very beautiful. I always look at another view. I often sit by the levee just watching the water and the sun as it begins to set. Every now and then I'll see someone pass and they’ll stare or sometimes sit. I’ll wonder if they were there for the same reason I was. Struggling in life and just guessing whenever things will get better. Sitting there is my getaway, no problems, no worries, no one to bother me, no tears, just the moment. Even when I know someone else has it worse than me and behind it all I am blessed, but I’m slowly losing myself, trying to find my way back. I am 17, not an average 17 year old. Born in New Orleans, Louisiana. Somehow believing I’m from Tokyo, Japan. My thoughts get way out of hand and I have no control over them. My mind wonders off in space when I’m trying to focus in class. I have no idea what I want to be in life and I may not know for a while or maybe when I’m in college. I just want to travel the world, I know there’s more to life than just this. I know there is happiness somewhere. I know I may not be living in reality and maybe that’s why it feels like everyone is against me. Against me and my thoughts. My dreams. I’ve come to the conclusion I am not normal. I believe when I get older I will write myself into fame, into finding something, doing all the things I want to do. With a bunch of people doubting me and everyone laughing at me. I have no problem with that. I'm just trying to prove them or at least someone wrong. I have something, something I want to share with the world. Questions I want to ask, things I want to know. I walk real fast. I’m attracted to white guys. I often wonder why we go to bed worrying, knowing that we may not wake up the next morning. No one likes to think that way so eventually we worry ourselves to death. I hate orange candy. I’m addicted to water. My generation is based upon pain pills and Marijuana. I have a guitar that collects dust. My first time lighting a cigarette was in the 5th grade. I plan on waiting till I’m married. I’m catholic. Sometimes people may have a big imagination or get the wrong interpretation, so I don’t believe everything the bible says. Believe me, God is real. Black on the outside, white in the inside. I’ve been called an Oreo since Middle School. I always feel like I’m alone. I read books to join another world. Its amazing the places a book can take you. Im Dannielle by the way, and that’s with 2 N’s. I hope you’ll remember me.
Six Word Stories of Something Meaningful
By Mark Smith
American
Boy
Had
Broke
Her
Heart
Still
Not
Happy
Without
You
Around
Past to Presences
(Rambling Autobiography)
By Juanita Williams
I watched her as she left home each day. I'd sneak out to play. I used to find cigarettes and rip them up. I took toothpicks and lit them up. I lied about not having homework so I could watch TV and play. Remembrance of when she walked out of my life. Many years of hurt and neglect in my heart. The feelings of sometimes no one cares. Times I felt like giving up. My accomplishments make me proud. I love spending time with my family and friends. Seeing babies brings warmness to my heart. Memories of the time we had. Life goes on, so why be mad? I am a person that keeps a smile on my face.
By Juanita Williams
I watched her as she left home each day. I'd sneak out to play. I used to find cigarettes and rip them up. I took toothpicks and lit them up. I lied about not having homework so I could watch TV and play. Remembrance of when she walked out of my life. Many years of hurt and neglect in my heart. The feelings of sometimes no one cares. Times I felt like giving up. My accomplishments make me proud. I love spending time with my family and friends. Seeing babies brings warmness to my heart. Memories of the time we had. Life goes on, so why be mad? I am a person that keeps a smile on my face.
Growing Up
(Rambling Autobiography)
By Theresa Canselo
Addicted to red boys with dreads and tats,
grew up around alot of drug dealers and rats.
Having dreams of modeling but they never came true,
riding around the city, just me and my crew.
Humiliation and devistation, thats all it really took,
to get attached to a boy who wouldn't let you off the hook.
Ever got in trouble then that was drama for your...
mama would try to beat you with a bottle or a glass.
Dudes growing up, wanting to be heard,
but as they grew, their actions turned to jail birds.
Made it out the trap houses and into the ghetto,
tried not to get to comfortable cause thats not where I wanted to settle.
From the ghetto to the "hood" like that was any better,
them uptown dudes making nothing but cheddar.
Trynna fit in with every girl on the block,
selling their bodies and showing skin wasn't really hot.
Right from the ghetto, I lived in the suburbs,
but all they really did was have parties and smoke herbs.
Tried to stay focused and get my education,
but the streets made me turned and that turned to contemplating.
Never thought it would be me living it out this way,
I've been praying and praying to see a much brighter day.
Now I'm back in the hood where its always hot.
See at night all you hear is police sirens and gun shots.
So I block it all out cause I know who I wanna be,
but I look back at my past and see the streets really made me!!
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