The Freewriting thread

[Nilitac_Tesgrah]

That was really good. ^_^

The RPG is kinda long, about oh... 411 pages now? ^^;;;;;;
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Best Quote Ever: "B&."- Said by multiple people.

Everytime a n00b does something stupid - spams, harasses, refuses to read the rules - I hit my head on the desk. Please dun mack my poor noggin suffer drain bamage.

[Alpha_zero]

*Drops to knees* I am not reading 411 pages of different points of view...But other than that, the plot seems cool.
_________________
I came
I saw
I ripped over a damn rock.

[Nilitac_Tesgrah]

It is cool. ^_^ There've been a couple really estranged plot twists though... O_o
_________________
Best Quote Ever: "B&."- Said by multiple people.

Everytime a n00b does something stupid - spams, harasses, refuses to read the rules - I hit my head on the desk. Please dun mack my poor noggin suffer drain bamage.

[LexLuthorsVictimNJustAFriend]

<< I wanna try my hand at writing a Chad story. >>

"What are you doing?" I asked while staring at his muddy hands. A sly smirk spread across his face.

"Nothing." Chad said. He was hiding something from me, I could tell.

I rolled my eyes and sighed. "What did you bury this time?"

Chad shifted his eyes, trying to avoid looking at me. "I...I don't know what your talking about." he said casually.

"Give me a break, I've known you since we were kids. Do you honestly think you can look me in the eyes and say that you didn't bury anything?"

"That's why I'm [i]not[/i] looking you in the eyes." Chad laughed. "Come on, what makes you think I was burying something? I could've been making mud pies."

I really wanted to hit him at that moment. "Let me see, last week you buried chicken bone because Danny said that you could grow a chicken tree, and yesterday you buried a dollar because you wanted to prove to your mom that money can grow on trees."

"Hey, who knows, maybe in a few weeks we can pluck tens off of the branches." I slapped my forehead, Chad was so gullible.

"What did you bury?" I asked again.

"An cherry seed." he confessed.

"Why?" I asked. Chad was allergic to cherries, I couldn't see why he'd plant a seed that could kill him.

"Because I want to be like George Washington!" He said as he imitated the motions of cutting down the tree.

I shook my head and walked away.

<> <>

[SilentSoul92]

lol, that's funny, yet slightly sad on Chad's behalf.

[i]There's so much that happens in the last moment of life. People always say your life flashes before you eyes when you're about to die. I guess I'm about to find out if it's true.

But it's not a steady stream of memories; some images fade as quickly as falling leaves in autumn, but others linger, like the shadows of a nightmare. Before you can grasp one remnant, another flutters by. But there's so much time, so much it hurts. To watch you life fly past you, to relive all those memories, happy and sad. Such a painful way to die, knowing you'll never create any new memories.

The happy ones slip out of you hand, like dust, and the fiendish ones linger in you mind. And before your last breath, the last image is the one you hold dearest to your heart, and I cry. Perhaps it's time to let go of the past.[/i]

Got it after reading some odd comment on IM...the internet is an odd place, let me tell you.

[theWriter]

*cues Twlight Zone music* the writers...have entered....IM!!!
Bum bum bum!!!

Sorry. Been a little bit bored lately.

@Lex: Good job. Funny, yet it does question young Chad's intelligence.
@Rita: Sad and reflective. Good description, would make an excellent poem.

Now, my turn:

When we got the call, Ted and I immeadietely put on the sirens. A man armed with a gun is never something to be taken lightly, espeacially in the slums.

The car jerked to a halt. I clearly heard behind me even more people coming. I got out first. Ted followed just as quickly. We glanced around where we are--a disgusting, filth filled alley--and then I saw him.

Tall, dressed in the usual ghetto clothing, a shirt way to big for his frame (it was a black shirt), jeans that barely clung to his buttcheeks, shoes that made him look like a clown...They looked a little raggedy, though, and it occured to me that he might be high.

That's even worse in this type of situation, when they are armed. I couldn't take chances. I ripped my gun out of its holster and called to him.

"Turn around," I said. "This is the police. Drop your weapon and turn around."

Dumbass. He turned around all right. It was then I saw the knife. Jesus Christ...He wasn't just "armed." The guy was packing the biggest knife I had ever seen. The butcher knife from hell. And then, in the dim light, I saw blood--it looked almost black in the alley--smeared across the knife.

This was bad.

Very bad.

"PUT THE KNIFE DOWN!!" We both started to scream. Me espeacially. "PUT THE KNIFE DOWN....NOW!!"

He didn't obey. He just kept coming closer. My god, did he want to die? I had been in three situations where people wanted to commit suicide, but because they were too cowardly, they knew that it would be swifter to get a cop to kill 'em. Attack a cop, and voila, insta-gratification...Not to mention the media biting the cop's ass for the rest of his/her life.

I told him one last time.

"PUT THE KNIFE DOWN!!!"

He didn't. He just kept coming closer. And then he started to raise the knife, and this horrible smile flitted across his face. He saw me, and acknowledged that I was a veteran who would not hesitate to kill him, and then he turned to Ted.

Oh, lord...Ted was just a rookie.

I saw that bastard raise the knife and lunge, and it was like the world suddenly slowed down and pressed the mute button. I backed up frantically, and as I did, I fired once, twice, trying to aim for the main torso area. I don't know if it hit him...Then, I saw the cloth of his shirt buck four times, and then I knew I had hit him.

He didn't go down, though. He flinched slightly, but I saw his diliated eyes and knew that he was just as pumped on adrenaline as I was.

He instead followed his original path of destination and landed on Ted, knife upraised. Ted was too surprised and scared originally to anything...And I saw his gun clatter to the ground as Ted put up his arms to defend himself.

This was terrifying. I got my gun ready, trying to find a clear point of entry, but they were too close. I couldn't shoot the bastard without possibly shooting Ted. I was helpless.

The bastard's first shot struck true. He slammed down the knife just as he saw Ted's gun clatter away and stabbed him right in the gut. Ted let out a pissed off and pained grunt before he got himself ready. The knife came down again, but this time Ted brought his hands to the guy's wrists, stopping him from completely slaughtering him. This entire time he was screaming, "DON'T DO IT!!!! DON'T DO IT!!!!"

Both of them were putting all the muscle they had into that knife. It was trembling violently, inches from Ted's face as he fought they guy off. And the worse part was, I couldn't help them. They were rolling around like pigs in a sty, trying to kill each other, and then Ted struck out with a leg, hitting the guy in the groin.

It was interesting...I shot the dickhead and he kept on fighting, but when Ted kicked him, he suddenly jerked backwards.

Ted rolled away, getting to his feet and screaming, blood pouring down his face, "SHOOT HIM!! SHOOT HIM!!"

And I knew I had to. The guy had risen to his knee, reached for the knife, and tried to come up one last time.

No more chances. I raised my gun...

And pulled the trigger.
~~~
Sorry if it's long. Just got a muse, and you know how [i]that[/i] it is.


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[Alpha_zero]

WOw, megan, thats quite sad, but sort of...I don't know, but its well written. Something quick because dinner is ready.


I fallpd my wings, testing them, just in case they weren't unfolded properly. But they had, and were ready for takeoff. So, with all my strenght, I through myself off the cliffs edge.
I dived downwards until suddenly I was metres from the waters surface, and then-I unfolded my wings and took off into the setting sun.

My destination? I had none, i was a drifter
My purpose? Do I need one?
My name? That was my purpose
_________________
I came
I saw
I ripped over a damn rock.

[theWriter]

Thanks Matt. Boy, you have a thing for "finding oneself", don't you? Not that its a bad thing, but it is interesting.

Nice story. Just a few grammatical errors. "flapd"=flapped, strengt=strength. Though it's understandable because you were in a rush. This one is going to be a wee bit long. The "~~" signifies a different scene, not me speaking.


Ever been downtown?

I bet you have.

Ever seen drunks?

At least once.

And youve probably seen the dark, brooding cars that float almost
silently through the streets. The groups of people, a swagger (or stagger) to their walk, strolling down the midnight streets looking for trouble. The sirens that echo hauntingly off the tall buildings; and the buildings themselves, huge skyscrapers that at night glint, both beautifully and darkly, at the town below.

But Im talking about night.Downtown.

Day downtown is completely different.

But night is where our story begins. On the dark, night soaked streets of downtown.
~~~~

I cant keep doing this.

Look, just one more time.

You always say that.

Thats not true.

It is, and you know it.

Youre fooling yourself.

What do you want?

Theres a man. The girl looks up. Hes carrying about nine kilos of cocaine and needs to get it off his back before the police find him.

Where is he?

Where else? She says, annoyed. Downtown.
~~~~

What do you want?

I need to find someone.

Who?

A man.

OkayI need more info than that, dearie.

Downtown. Alexis told me hes carrying nine kilos of cocaine, needs to get rid of it.

Ah.I know of this man you speak of.

Does he have a name?

No. But he is becoming famous. There are many people wanting that cocaine since the police have locked down the area. A lot of druggies want that coke.

Howd he get through them?

How should I know? Look, you be careful out there, Kaye.

I will be.

You always say that.

You know its true.

The old man leans back in his chair inside the office, sighing deeply before looking up at Kaye.

Why are you here?

What do you mean?

You know what I mean, Kaye. Why are you here?

I dont know.
~~~
Do you know where he is?

No.

I thought Thomas told you.

Thomas is oldWeary. He knew, but I dont think he wants me to get hurt.
How could you? This is a simple job.

Thats not what he said.

Oh?

Thomas told me that there are many people after that coke. Many want it. You know how the druggies are. Some will kill for it.

It is a lie.

Cant be.

Ah, but it is.

Youre lying.

Like you said, Kaye, Thomas is oldWeary. His mind drifts off. Alexis looks up from her chair, eyes malicious. He Alexis eyes float up to the ceiling, searching for word, before coming back down. Is forgetful. Surely, you know that.

Youre lying, Alexis. Take that back.

No. Thomas is just trying to scare you. Im telling you, this job will be easy. No problems.

None?

None. I guarantee it.

Theres a pause. Alexis looks up into Kayes eyes and analyzes her. Kaye is obviously reluctant. Alexis leans back in her plush chair next to the fireplace and gives a deep sigh. She shakes her head at Kayes unwillingness. She looks away from Kaye and to the fireplace, where a fire is burning brightly, crackling. Alexis brings one hand up to the light and examines her fingernails. She continues to speak. Go back to Thomas. Tell him Dead Man Walking, and hell understand.

But I dont.

You dont have to. Alexis says, looking away from her fingernails. Just tell him that.

And then what?

Hell give you the directions.

What if he doesnt?

He will. Find me my cocaine.


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[LexLuthorsVictimNJustAFriend]

<>

I stared straight ahead, frozen, scared out of my mind. What would I say? What would I do? There he stood with his clothes tattered and torn, it seemed so impossibele, though I knew he was real. I didn't want to him and the tears in my eyes said the same.

When he had left those years ago, I became callous and hateful, or so I thought. It was practical, the reasons why he left were understandable, but it didn't make them hurt any less. I hated him

Everytime he came back he promised me things that I knew would never come true; and still I chose to believe him. Even when he became viscious and unrelenting, I chose to stand by him.

Now as I stood staring at him, hating him, undermining everything I ever felt for him, one thing crossed my mind: He's my brother.

<>

[Inu-chan_rox_mah_sox]

I had never felt so alert, yet so unnerved at the same time. Kira...Where was Kira? That was the only thing going through my mind: I have to find Kira. I yelped in surprise a bullet narrowly missed my head. I felt it glide by me, stirring my black hair like a sudden breeze. My legs felt numb with shock and fear, and I barely roused myself enough to run into the alley next to me. I could feel my tattered and torn tank top fluttering behind me as I ran, my black hair whipping in the wind. With every slap of my foot hitting the wet pavement, I felt the fear mount up in me. This was it. I was going to die. I skid to a halt, splashing a little water on the graffiti(sp?) coated wall in front of me. S***! A dead end! I whipped around as I heard voices, pressing myself against the cold, wet wall. I became more aware of my injuries as a sharp pain shot through my leg like a bullet and a trickle of blood crept down my cheek. I clenched my teeth and clamped my eyes shut, trying to calm myself and block out the voices around me. Think. Think. Think. You have to find a way out. You're not going to die in this hell hole. My heart missed a few beats as the two men that were hunting me like the dog I was appeared in the alley. For a moment, I shut my eyes tight again, expecting death. But, for some reason, that pain did not come. Instead, I found myself running-I didn't even realize I was- faster than I ever had before, shoving people out of my way, tempted to scream at the top of my lungs. But my pride kept hold, and I knew I had to find Kira. I ran until it hurt, scalded my lungs with every breath, my muscles aching so much I wanted to cut them off to end the pain. I collapsed on the ground, the passerby jumping out of my way as I crashed into the pavement. I didn't care. I didn't care that I was hurt. I didn't care all these strange people were staring at me...Were they people? My vision was getting blurry, and they looked like multi-colored blobs to me. But two things alerted me for an instant: a gunshot, and a high-pitched scream of terror and pain. Kira...I was too late...for both of us, now...I was suddenly aware that tears were streaming down my cheeks, mixing with the blood on my face to make a crimson puddle under me. I don't know what had spilled on the ground, probably milk or something, but it trickled into my puddle of blood and mixed with the salty, metallic-tasting liquid...It became a pale shade of pink...Things came flooding to my mind. Kira's favorite color had been pink...She had given him a pink handkerchief to remember her by when he had said he had to see Meisodd...Pink...that color signified...something...I felt a vague frustration as my dying mind couldn't comprehend what it meant. And then I knew. Pink...the symbol of love. The love between myself and Kira...I shut my eyes, and a content smile crossed my face. I was going to see Kira soon...I hoped she'd wait for me, like she always had...
(Sorry if it's a little choppy, but I just came up with it on the spot. ^^; I liked the one above me. Very cool and sorta sad. XD)

[Alpha_zero]

Wow that was good. Hard to decipher because of limited paragraphs but I enjoyed it.

I'm going to write something tha really sort of caused a stressful moment in my
life. This 'moment' lasted somewhat 6 months after recieving the letter.

Clumbsily, I stabbed my key into the lock, and twisted it quickly, so I could enter quickly.
I saw the brown envelope, then my mum. I pushed through my glass door, and into the living room. "I Got it right? Who? Leytonstone?"
My mum gave me a pitying look and said "No i'm afraid not"
"Willowfeild?" I said, not really that surprised I hadn't got itnto Leytonstone.
"Worse" she said
"Huh?" I said, opening the letter and reading the schools name. (I won't name it) I held back hot tears that pushed against my face. "What do I do, i can't go there" I moaned
"Everything'll be ok, leave to me and Pappy" My mum said, comforting me.

And it has. I have been at Leytonstone, since winning my school appeal.
_________________
I came
I saw
I ripped over a damn rock.

[theWriter]

Good story. Nice dialouge. But remember Matt, that the enter button is there for a reason. I know, it's a pain in the ass, but it makes it easier for the reader to desipher. And you must comment on the story above you, just to be nice.

@Inu:It's good, however, you need to split up between paragraphs, because, like I said above, it is very hard to split one sentence from the next because, looking at it from afar, it looks like a big spat o' text, which it's not. However, the action is nice.

Now, here's my real story:

The van bumped along unsteadily. I felt my head snap to the left and to the right like I was on the roller-coster from hell, but I didn't really notice, too busy talking to Monika.

"Say it again," I said, laughing hysterically.

Monika's eyes expanded as she shrank her neck down into her sweater and pulled up the hood. Voice becoming gravelly, she yanked up the hood 'til I could only see the whites of her eyes, then growled, mimicking the line from Beavis and Butthead the movie, "I am...CORNOLIO!!!"

I once again, was giggling out of control. Marilyn, sitting next to me, rolled her eyes, a smile on her lips. Suddenly, though, there was a jerk, and the entire van grew silent.

Monika and I stared at each other, suddenly alarmed. I leaned over to Marilyn and whispered softly, "What's going on."

She turned to me, and her face was pale.

"The brakes aren't working," she said, "And we're just at the beginning of the pass."

I glanced up to the driver's seat to see Liz, the councelor, as silent as the dead, her hands gripping the steering wheel like she would never let go.

It was then I realized what the situation was. As I eyed the driver's seat, I saw the speedometer slowly rise from fifty, to sixty, to seventy, to eighty, to ninety.

Dear lord.

The breaks weren't working, and we were pushing ninety.

And there were no loose-truck run-ways.

.....s**t.
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[SilentSoul92]

Wow, that's got to be scary. Nice job Megan.

I got this idea after playing one of my games for a third time or so.

[i]Dragon, proud creatures who watch over Tottarus. There are six in all, each protector if its own race.

The Fire Dragon gaurds the humans, frail creatures but with amazing prowress and intelligence. Perhaps the most unique of all the beings. They can love, and hate and accomplish so many things.

The Wind Dragon watches over the elves. A magestic race which is immortal, never dying. Even if killed, their spirits are reborn.

The Earth Dragon cares for the dwarves, another immortal race who live in harmony with nature.

The Water Dragon is gaurdian of the merpeople. A garceful, small section in the world. They are rarely seen and live for thousands of years.

The Thunder Dragon looks after the orcs, strong, large beings whose size along can scare off almost all. They too are immortal.

And the Shadow Dragon, who watches over the small group of night creatures. Vampires, demons, all those that do no fit in with the other races. They are never seen, and neither is their guardian.

So why is it that when imblance grows, and the world is reset, only us humans must restart. Mortal creatures who cannot survive when the Silver and Gold Dragon come to rid the world of sin. They destroy the world, and rebuild it again. The immortal elves, dwarves, and orcs live on, unaffected. The merpeople hide in the ocean until the world is rebuilt, and the night creatures are never affected. So why only the humans are wiped out, and then must rebuild everything they have lost?[/i]

I've been playing Radiata Stories waaay too much...

[theWriter]

[quote]I've been playing Radiata Stories waaay too much... [/quote]

^_^ Of course not. What silly thought possesed you to say [i]that[/i]?

Nice job. No complaints. Ending attaches a rather philisophical question. I gotta bizarre thing to ask the assembly, though. Why aren't gnomes ever in fantasy books? They are sure as hell freaky enough to be. Ya got your dwarves, your elves, your dragons, your orcs...But never gnomes? It's depressing.

Anyhoo, I'm losing my mind and oughta get writing:

~~~~
Hovering over the books, reading each scrap of text meticulously, trying to pull something out that would make sense, something that would explain the situation. Each second, minute and hour for the past week I had spent the time grooming ever piece of information I could find, searching. Finally, my brows furrowed and I felt my face twist up.

Nothing. I had gone on a f**king goose chase.

Angrily, I slammed the book with a loud thud that echoed throughout the library. The librarian, an old hag who had an uncanny resemblance to the Wicked Witch of the West, glowered over her tortise-shell glasses at me angrily. I could imagine her cackling, "[i]I'll get you, my pretty[/i]!" the second I turned around and fled.

But I wasn't in the mood for fleeing. I eyed her with an equal amount of piss-and-vinegar, and she backed off. There's a moment when being a young, whipper-snapper male detective has its advantages. For a few seconds I let my gaze roam the vast encylopedia they call the library, but then I was pulled from my thoughts by a buzzing.

For a moment, I thought, what the hell? But then it occured to me, oh yeah, my cell phone, and I quickly reached into my pocket and came out with it, turning my back to the librarian's desk and stooping down before I clicked the "receive" button.

"Hello?"

It was Van. He's Dutch, okay? Hence the name. I heard him talk, tried to catch the words. I got the brunt of it, and it was not good. I felt myself pale.

"No," I said quietly. "That can't be true."

Another pause. Van illustrated his point. I shook my head vehnemently. "It's bullshit," I hissed quietly. "That can't be true. I've combed every inch of text and nothing--"

He cut in. I listened, then felt my entire body just drain of blood.

"Okay," I said quickly. "I'll be there. Gimme ten."

He hung up. Without further ado, I rose quickly from my chair and began to walk away quickly, not bothering to acknowledge the suspsious glances around me. This was bad. What Van had just told me totally messed up our case.

And it was only going to get worse.
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[SilentSoul92]

Ooh, ooh, what'd he say? What'd he say?

Jeez, leave us in suspense why don't you. :P

[i]Idleness brings carelessness, and carelessness brings failure. Something so simple as one mistake can cost you a war, lose you a home, wreck your life.

No one knows what will happen in the future, they say to try you hardest. But when you're best is not enough, you just wish you could turn back time and stop that one mistake from happening. But what if that mistake didn't cause all this and you're just hoping for the impossible?

Damn philosophy class is getting to me...[/i]

:lol: XD Yes it is. My reflection on how much time I've been spending on philosophy.

[theWriter]

I am, ahem, le mastre of suspense. MWAHAHAHAH!! :ph34r:

And it appears, Rita, that you are becoming a philosphy guru. Hehe. How funny. Soon we shall refer to you as "the Great One" (not Wayne Gretsky) and ask for stupid advice about stuff. Won't that be funny? I can see it now: Rita, Philospher Guru.

As long as you don't become Dr. Phil, we'll be happy....

I think.

New story, though this one is a thought. I have this unhealthy obsession with cars. When I was little, my dad tried to read car magazines to me and now it's like...I dunno, I know cars better than most guys. Anyway:

[i]I've always thought that the night brings out the most interesting in people. Whether or not we accept that is a different matter, but at night, when I'm sitting in the passenger seat staring out the window at the light-smeared streets, it seems like everything goes into different perspective. Light is harsher, shows everything in truth and spares nothing of reality.

But night?

Ha-ha...Night brings out the darkest of the shadows, the worst of our fears. It is at nigt that those monsters hiding in your closet unleash themselves, and it is at night that dreams unstick themselves from their hiding spots and come to you, showing you the lure of the night-life, the lure of the shadows and the mystery and lore.

After all, we dream in black and white, no?

Night hides the truth, and brings us that hypnotic fantasy.

Day shows us the bitterness of reality.

Driving in that car at night, the engine purring like a jaguar primed for hunt and the lights glinting like knives on the highway aronud us, I peer into other darkened interiors of cars driving along-side us, floating like ghosts amid a gray sea, and wonder what there daily life is. We're complete strangers now, but in that instant when your eyes suddenly link with another's, in a car not too far from you, there is a connection.

But then they press the gas, and you are left in your own world.

So what does night tell us about ourselves, hmm?

It shows our fears, our loves, our fantasies.

And the night...Well, like the mind, it is a scary place.

A very scary place indeed.[/i]
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[Inu-chan_rox_mah_sox]

O.O Wow! That was cool! XD Yes, the Philosophy Guru indeed, lol. See, what's weird is that I was reading this in the darkness of the basement, where we have our only computer with Internet(so cold! ><) and I had to turn on the light! >.>; I've always been a little uneasy in the darkness, but I do prefer it to daytime. It makes me feel calmer. XD I dunno, my emotions are contradictory. Depends on the situation I suppose. -shrugs-

[theWriter]

Thanks. I actually, prefer night to day. I guess it's the night-owl in me. Me and my best friend used to take walks @ 2 in the morning. It was fun. Relaxing...Also a little freaky, but nevertheless...

Now, adding on to the "night" theme:

She sat, curled up in the corner, rocking back and forth mindlessly, her green eyes fixed with some maddening intensity at the padded wall in front of her.

Back and forth, back and forth...

I knew that she was not a normal patient when she came in here. It just struck me as odd because deep down in those eyes I saw this intelligence that just seemed too ground with reality to be insane. But in those eyes also shone this fear and absolute terror that I couldn't define. It was almost animal-like; and that disturbed me.

During our first session, she didn't say anything. I considered the fact that they might have given her too many sedatives; her eyes seemed unfocused and very out of the world, but then this glimmer flickered through her eyes and I just knew, knew, that she was with me. She knew I was there.

I spoke softly.

"Renee," I said, not moving from my chair (we were sitting in her bedroom, "Renee, it's safe here. You can talk."

There was this terrified silence from her that seemed to stretch on to infinity. Then she spoke, her eyes moving from their position on the floor and floating up to me.

"No," Renee said, voice wavering, "It's not safe. You don't understand."

I paused. "What should I understand?"

Her eyes suddenly dilated, and I could actually see the hair on the back of her neck suddenly stand up. She gave a low growl, almost animal-like, and began to breathe heavily. More to herself than me, she began to mutter rapidly.

"He only came out at night, he only came out at night. It made no sense for him to come out now. No sense, no sense...It was daytime. He was for night. Why now? I don't know? Why? I DON'T KNOW!!" She suddenly shrieked, tendons bulging out of her neck, she lunged for the pen in my hand, and I knew what she was going to do, try to stab herself. I jerked backwards, tipping over the chair, and instead of calling for the aides, like most of the cowardly bastards around here would do, to get her sedated and under control, I waited. Drugging these poor people didn't stop the nightmares from coming back. One-on-one confrontation did.

She flew past me, skimming my leg and hitting the floor with a thud. I tensed, expecting her to get up and try again to get te pen, to stab herself, but instead she slumped down on the floor and began to sob.

"Renee," I said quietly. "Renee, what don't you know?"

Normally, someone would help people up if they had fallen on the floor. However, in a the nut-job ward, the patients were very frightened of physical contact. Renee probably would not be any different, and I knew that, so I stood aside while she slowly staggered to her feet, still crying, and faced me.

For a moment or two we stood in silence, appraising each other, before she walked unsteadily over to her chair and sat down. Her eyes had gotten this wierd resolve in it, something that seemed remarkably sane, and she took a deep breath.

"I don't know," she said quietly, "Why it happened. Why he came out in the daytime."

She looked up at me, pleading. "It was my shift. My partner had been waiting, waiting to get that prick where he stood, and he...he killed him. He killed my best friend in the world...A cop.

"And it was daytime." she ended, drawing her knees to her chest on the chair, "It was daytime and he killed." She glanced up, tears in her eyes, "He wasn't supposed to do that in the daytime. His time was night."

Her eyes lost focus with reality. She stared off into space. "His time still is night," she whispered.
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[SilentSoul92]

[quote="theWriter (Megan)"] And it appears, Rita, that you are becoming a philosphy guru. [/quote]
Uh-uh, no way. Not happening.

Back to the point: yikes, scary thoughts right there.

Here's my little piece. It's going to be the ending to one of my fanfic. Kinda depressing though, since most endings I read of are happy.

[i]The war was over. Finally. A hundred years of fighting, over some stupid concept I didn't even understand. Why do normal people have to be dragged into the nobles' silly little squables?

I sighed, but winced. The small action even brought pain. The wound was fatal, I knew that for sure. Still, I glanced down at the large blood stain on the my stomach. So here we go. I was going to die. My mind was laughing bitterly at me. Reminding me of how stupid I had been these last few years. The war took my family, my friends, my home. But still, I had my sister, and my best friend Netari.

But the war took him too. Stupid Netari. Why did he have to die? It had pushed me over the edge, and now look. I wasted four years searching for his murderer. Four years ignoring my comrades, my team, my sister. Too bad life didn't give you a second chance.

I sighed again, ignoring the sharp, burning pain from my abdomen. I could still hear my sister calling me by my nickname that way she did. Wait. I opened my eyes again, although it hurt to look at the bright blue sky and cheerful sun. That was her voice. Turning my head, inch by inch so it wouldn't hurt so much, I finally saw her shadowy figure in the background. Feari. She hadn't called me that in such a long time. Or maybe she did, but I was too busy to notice her.

When she finally reached me, I knew what she was going to say.

"Forget it." I said, coughing even as I started, "I'm not going to be able to stay with you much longer." I cursed myself in my mind. I sounded so calm, so matter of fact. I couldn't even show and ounce of sympathy, even when my little sister was crying her eyes out over me. But I was too tired to be sad.

"Sorry kiddo." I tried to say, but started coughing violently before I could finish. Sorry. That the last thing I said before I fell asleep, or did I die?

I can't remember anymore.[/i]

[theWriter]

In a sick, morbid and weird way, that is slightly funny only because of the character's cyniscm. Exceptional voice. You know what I'm going to say (good dialogue, descript, ect...) so I won't.

I was only kidding when I talked about you being a guru. That alone is a scary thought. Though also kinda funny...It'd be like we'd have our own Oprah on the FAC.

I think I'm gonna change how I write. I can't write fantasy worth crap, and for some strange reason, it never appealed to me, but because I've been writing with the 21st century waaay too much. Anyway:

She stared into the washbasin for a moment, then moved away, frightened. She glanced around, feeling trapped in the small hovel her parents had condemned her to, and shuddered. She had agreed to the circumstances, after all; the family was far too poor to feed six mouths...hers included, and so she took a stand to leave. They understood, and she understood. She loved her younger siblings with all her heart, and if one of them died...she would be devasted....Not to mention her parents would be ruined as well.

It had been a brutal winter; since the nobels had taken almost all of the crops that the villagers had found vital to their survival, people were dying. And the water source, a spring not too far from the grounds, had been contaminated. People were getting sick; and Katharina had a feeling it was only going to get worse.

Silence filled the hovel, then, quietly:

"Look into the basin."

Katharina shuddered at the voice, feeling the hairs on the back of her neck rise in apprehension. She stiffened, then spoke, quietly, eyeing the basin warily.

"No." she said softly.

"Excuse me?" the voice said behind her, suddenly sharp.

"I'm not going to do it," Katharina spoke, louder this time, "I said no."

There was a rustle from behind her. Kath spun around to find the warlock lunging at her.

"You will," he snarled, "do as I say. You will," he said, brown eyes staring madly into hers, "look into that basin. And if you don't," he grabbed the front of her dress and pulled her closer, so that they were inches apart, "You will be sorry."

For a moment, they did nothing, both staring each other down. But then Katharina slumped her shoulders and blinked.

"Fine." she snapped. "I'll do it."

Just as fast as he had risen, he released her dress and quickly went back to the bed--sapling springs jammed into the sides of the hut with hay as the mattress--and sat down gracefully. He took a deep breath, and his face came serene.

"Now," he said quietly, "look into the basin."

Katharina slowly turned around and stared downwards into the smooth abyss; the reflection that bounced back to her showed fear and apprehension. She took a shuddering breath and kept her gaze on the water.

"Now," he said from behind her, "Tell me what you see."

Katharina didn't breath for a moment. Then she gasped abruptly, eyes flickering to and fro. For a few moments, there was only the sound of her shock and terror, and then, reluctantly, she began to speak...

"I see..."
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