fucking know who you are. get out of my way." "are you kidding me? yesterday night you dragged me to my hotel room‚ and i turned my back for a second and you weren’t even there!" "that never happened. i have no clue who you are you stupid breadstick boy." he scoffed at her response and got out of her way. "this isn’t over you realize that‚ right? i’m gonna figure out who you are. you’ll be screwed!" he
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The red sphere of fury. Ever since day one of the sport‚ that’s how I referred to the kickball. It never changed. I have been terrified of this faded red ball coming anywhere near my face‚ so I never bothered to run for a catch‚ or even really try. That’s probably why I was never any good at sports. I was okay at tennis‚ and maybe even moderately good at cross country. But anything that involved me catching a ball‚ you might as well already say I lost. So naturally‚ when I ran up to kick the ball
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The graveyard was dark and shadowed; tulips lined the cobblestone pathway that led to the mausoleum‚ looming darkly against the feeble moon. I strode through the graveyard‚ glancing nervously around at the shadows that lay thick upon the graves like a shroud. Tulips‚ protruding like withered stakes from the ground‚ lined the pathway‚ and I could smell their sickly-sweet odor as I approached the mausoleum‚ looming above me like a forbidding monument to the feeble moon above. “Rachel!” I cried out
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“It’s a funny thing‚ coming home. Nothing changes. Everything looks the same‚ feels the same‚ even smells the same. You realize what’s changed is you.” – F. Scott Fitzgerald The night before I left my home to start school at Kutztown‚ I cried. I slept next to my mom in her room‚ surrounded by stuffed animals around my body from my youth‚ tears streaming down my face. I was scared‚ nervous‚ and uncertain about my future. The idea of going to this new place‚ with new faces‚ and new beginnings
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For the sake of anonymity I’ll keep some names private‚ and call myself Beowulf. My story happened around two years ago‚ I was 26 years old when my family and I had noticed that my grandmother was starting to forget our names‚ couldn’t recall certain events‚ and at times seemed in a daze and lost from her state of mind‚ completely forgetting where she was in that moment. This was followed by her stumbling around the house and falling a few times. One time it got to the point where she fell down
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"Are you sure you’ll be fine without me?" Mabel asked‚ twiddling her numbs nervously as she sat on her bed in the room she shared with her brother in the Mystery Shack. Mabel was preparing to leave for a fun day with her friends‚ Candy and Grenda‚ as she planned to spend this summer more focused on friends and family more so than romance. In response to her question‚ Dipper gave a small nod‚ and coughed in between. Dipper gave her a weak smile‚ his voice cracked awkwardly even more than usual because
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It was true. Several of the maidens and their families left the compound as soon as the food supply became scarce. Her Master had not been outside of the home in months as his appearance became increasingly unrecognizable—even to her. It made her sad to see the man she’d grown to admire succumb to such an unexplainable illness and tragedies that surpassed human limitations. Ayala always thought that one day she would marry herself a man much like her Master… someone rich‚ handsome‚ and who
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Though‚ Castiel had never seen the man reading a book‚ it was odd to say the least; coming to a place made for books but not read a book. Castiel didn’t think much about the issue‚ he was usually daydreaming about how it would feel to touch that honey like hair or how it would be the man’s reaction if he ever caught him staring. Castiel presumed that the man only accompanied someone to the library and was always waiting for them to comeback‚ and Castiel never stuck around to see who it may be. Perhaps
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memories‚ ones that would last for a lifetime. Smiling‚ Kelli daydreamed about what those memories might look like‚ baseball games‚ track meets‚ hiking and camping. Letting her mind wander as she pealed potatoes. She looked beside her at the young boy sitting at the dining room table coloring in his new book. Life couldn’t be any better than
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The surfer There was a boy who didn’t believe he had the capacity to be the world’s greatest surfer. One day he was watching videos on how people became successful and they said that you had to believe to succeed and so he did. Then with hard work‚ dedication‚ and believe he became what he wanted to be. The hot sun is out. He hears waves crashing into each other outside‚ seagulls cawing and people enjoying the view. He steps one foot outside touching the warmth of sand. He can smell the fresh
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