The group rushed hurriedly into a room along the hallway. Jacob, being the last, slammed the door shut and squeezed the knob of the door in fear. Little did they know that they're in the room of the late Lady Yetai. All around them, left hanging on the walls, are depressed portraits of her, torn and stained with red ink. Then the footsteps came, with the hint of restlessness and sadness. "It's coming!" He whispered loudly. The cross turns as he spoke and the curtains shuddered. Yes. It is time for dinner.
I have another question, sorry ;; Would it be okay if my story has a dark/mature theme to it? Also, I'm not sure if all of it would be able to fit into a post.
As I stare out the window of my bedroom, I note the casual car passing by. I sigh, and swivel my chair back to my desk, where 2 books lie. I stare blankly at the book, not paying any attention at all to my dog who is licking my leg. I jump in my chair, and the four-legged friend waltzes to his bed. I look back to my work. I've finished everything, but one question. Why haven't I bothered to solve 1 question, do you ask? Because I cannot solve it. I groan, banging my head on the desk, racking my brain for some hint or clue as to how I should solve this problem. I then turn my head to the textbook. All textbooks have answers at the back of the book, right? No, I must resit. But, I need to know this one question. Should I? No, I shouldn't. I stare at the question again, with resignation. But then, I realise something. You're meant to use a calculator for the question.
@Poseidon THE DISCOVERY OF THE FIRST CHAIN SHOVEL Once upon a time... There was a man called Chain. He was a miner, and he was stuck in the world of Minecraft. Day after day he would see the dull, boring pixels that resembled blocks. One day, he decided to dig deeper. Perhaps he could find treasure! So he dug deeper, and deeper and deeper, past the coal, past the iron and all the way down to the scary darkness. No one in the history of Minecraft (First minute of Minecraft's release) had dug so deep. Then, he turned his XRay Texture Pack on, so he would discover the finest secrets of Minecraft. Lo and behold, every block seemed to be transparent! It seemed as if he would drop down into the void any moment (That's why miners need to be unafraid of the dark). Then... Right before his super xray eyes... Was... a... transparent block. But... Just behind it... was... another transparent block. But no, wait! There was a flickering orange light in that block! Curiosity killed the Chain. He used his iron pickaxe and dug closer to the source of the magical light. He realised that the block was... A FIRE BLOCK! He immediately dug up the block and carefully put it in a crafting table, arranging it in this fashion: <Fire> <Stick> <Stick> And... Just as how the legend said that chain armour could be crafted using fire... The Chain hovered his mouse over the shovel... And it was called "Chain Shovel". However, it is said that Chain had used this shovel to escape the clutches of the Minecraft world, and since then, the legendary shovel was not to be found. THE END
hi, I'm an aspiring writer & this isn't one of my best pieces because I whipped it up in half an hour, but I've never posted anything I've written on the internet so this is kind of a milestone for me, hA. Spoiler Madeline Simmons Madeline Simmons stood in the driveway as her husband exited the front door and onto the veranda, sporting a Nikon camera around his neck. Bringing one knee down to the wooden planks, he began to play around with the settings as their daughter timidly strolled over to meet him. Wearing the pale yellow dress she had been gifted for her last birthday, she began to nervously play with one of her pigtails as he took her photograph. Her very first day of school. She was growing up so rapidly. Madeline's eyes began to water as her daughter scampered off of the veranda to meet the school bus which was patiently waiting on the side of the road. She glanced back at the house when a look of determination flashed across her face, and the bus drove away. Madeline wished her daughter would look her way. Madeline turned around and examined her husband's facial expression. He was hurting. More than anyone else could see. He had not felt joy for a while, not since the accident. The atmosphere grew dull as she made her way over to him. She declared everything would be okay, but she could hear the lies through her tone. He began to whimper, and she proceeded to burst into tears. "I'm sorry", she whispered. He rushed into the house and locked the door behind him. Madeline fell to the floor and began to sob. She blamed herself for all that had happened, and wished that she could go back in time and erase her mistakes. She picked herself up and made her way through the streets of her neighbourhood, wailing and shrieking. The scent of rain filled the air as she arrived at her destination. 'Roseville Memorial Gardens' She waltzed across the lawns, over the bridge and through the archways until she came to a halt. She admired the tombstone for hours. Memories flooded her mind as a single tear rolled down her cheek. She admired the freshly placed flowers and the photo of the woman in front of her. She read the inscription. Here lies Madeline Simmons Loving wife and mother 1982 - 2015
Once apon a time, time stopped once because there was no more time left once. Once the time started again apon the planet of time, time was once again apon the planet of time. My brain may have died writing that
Lol well over the years the version of the story has gone off the original story... :p Btw can we only submit one story and are we allowed to write an open letter instead of a story?
I stared into his intense eyes. He was breathing more heavily now, although I know he can't feel it. He can't feel anything; he's numb. I miss those days when I could touch his warm hands and he'd immediately grab them then interlock our fingers. Or when he could tell me how he's feeling, whether it's positive or negative. Everything about him is gone, except for the face I fell in love with. He's still a person, but not a person. Spirit? Ghost? Whatever he is, doesn't matter anymore. His life has been taken away. Yet he's still in front of me, speaking. He can talk, see, hear, but not feel. How could someone so precious not have the ability to feel? ~ I slowly kiss his pale cold lips once again, and ask another time. "Did you feel anything?" He shook his head. "I'm sorry." He said to me, looking down as if in embarrassment. "For what, love?" "Everything." He whispered. We sat on a bench in a quiet park. I didn't know how to respond, it wasn't his fault. He was murdered. His parents gave no attention to the situation. They made the funeral horrible, no effort put into it. They brushed it off; as if they wanted him gone and out of their life. "Do you remember anything that happened before you died?" I asked quietly. "I just remember seeing a small but very fast bullet come straight at me. As the bullet got near, I don't understand, it was like time was slowing down." "What do you mean?" "I could see it in slow motion." He slowly got up and started walking away. "Where are you going?" I asked worried if I had said something wrong. "To the cemetery to visit my grave, want to come?" He said casually as if you would say this everyday when you're alive. I nodded and held his hand as we walked. He can't feel anything, but I can. Might as well make myself happy. ~ We arrived at his tomb in about 15 minutes. His stared down at it looking as if he's fighting back tears. Ever since his death he's always been thinking. He completely stopped speaking with me, unless I asked a question. It left me heartbroken to experience this, but I don't want to force him to talk to me. "After the funeral I saw you come here, I was hiding up in that tree." He pointed to a very tall tree with branches spreading in all sorts of direction. "You placed my favourite flowers, bluebells." He smiled. I hadn't seen that beautiful smile in a very long time, it gave me a warm sensation in my heart. "I did." I said returning the smile. "If you're dead how can you be with me?" I asked. "I'll always be with you." He responded. "So if I die will I be like you?" "Probably. When everyone dies they become 'alive' again, but they cannot feel. They have a limited amount of time until they permanently leave." "Leave?" "The world." ~ It was getting dark and I needed to return home. I said goodbye to him and left. Throughout the night I thought about what he had said. Does he still love me though? Even though love is a feeling. The death scene replayed in my head again and again. Cars driving in all sorts of directions, gun shot sounds from every corner of Toronto. Bullets falling to the ground. Then that one bullet took away the love of my life. ~ It was 3am. I couldn't sleep. He was on my mind. I decided a glass of water could help me, so I slowly got up making sure I don't make a sound for my family to hear. I place my hand on the cold tap, then felt a pair of arms wrap around my waist. I panic and turn around, it was him. Him. I smile and put my hands around his neck interlocking them at the back. "Why are you awake? It's very late." He said. "I can't sleep." "Why not?" Should I tell him? I brushed I off the topic and started a new one. "Do you still love me? Even though I know you can't feel." I asked right away. "Love is mostly a choice, not a feeling. I choose to love who I want, I don't need to 'feel' to love someone. Yes, when I was alive I did feel my heart hurt a few times because of how much I love you. Now, my heart doesn't have to hurt. Nothing does. I still love you, forever will." I looked into his eyes again. Somehow I always get lost in them. Then he did something I'd never thought he'd do. Even though he can't feel, even though he never does this back to me ever since he died, He kissed me. lmao peace.
