...“Now who can tell me what 4956 x 967 equals?” two seconds went by. A pale white arm shot up at the back of the class. “Yes, Adam.” “That would be 4,392,452, I believe.” “Well, you are correct.” “Show off,” Yelled a guy named Richie as he shot a spitball at Adam’s head and it landed directly in between his eyes. The class erupted with laughter as Richie’s buddies fist bumped and joined the rest of the math class in what seemed to be an eternity of laughter to Adam. As his face blushed he sprinted out the classroom, and into the bathroom to sit in a locked stall to plot his revenge on Richie Madison and regather himself. And that is how Adam got detention for skipping most of the class. Richie also got detention for bullying and starting a class chant against Adam. “Mr. Garcia, you will be spending the rest of tonight doing extra homework, along with the rest of your nights as a 6th grade student until you get into the advanced classes, and I mean all of them.” Mrs. Garcia said with annoyance in her annoying French accent. “Glad I wasn’t born with that ugly voice.” Adam thought. “Well what are you waiting for, a kiss on the cheek? Get up to your room and study, and NOW!” Adam’s mother screamed sarcastically at him. As Adam dragged up the stairs he could feel his mother’s eyes burning into the back of his head and neck. So Adam set off to his room to finish boatloads of homework. “Finally finished.” Adam explained proudly. He looked over at the clock, 4:38. “Well better take advantage...
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...familiar lobes of loose fat? This was not the face of a 72 year-old man, and it sure as hell wasn't his body. Gerald's deep confusion was only magnified with every thought. Still, his mind struggled to make sense of everything. Straws were all he had to grasp at. Maybe I'm still having a nightmare. Gerald pinched himself. It stung, but nothing more. He pinched himself harder. He pinched until he bled a little. The reality of the situation made him more aware of his surroundings. He scanned the room. Everything looked so sterile and colorless. There was a counter with a sink to his left, and large mirror on the opposite wall. It was obviously some sort of medical room. Did I get a brain transplant? He thought it was ridiculous. Science fiction nonsense. But in his desperation, Gerald also found it relatively likely compared to any other explanation he could think of at the moment. After all, here he was, apparently alive, but in the body of another person. Well, you never know what they can do with science these days. Gerald smiled. He was actually quite pleased with this possibility. Science saved my life. His smile faded as his thoughts turned to his wife. God, I hope Laura is okay. Though he was incredibly healthy, he now felt nauseous with worry. He prayed. Gerald wasn't a very religious man. He had stopped going to church when he was young, and had never really read the Bible. But he prayed with more conviction than anything he'd ever done. He seriously considered the...
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...I was little, how was i supposed to know this would happen. My curiosity got the best of me, what can i say. Let me explain how this all went down. I went to my cousin's house which I didn’t really like going to because the house just had this bad ora, like u never knew what was coming. Walking in made you feel left out never knowing what was happening. Two top it off there were 4 boys and 2 girls constantly fighting, screaming, and running around like wild dogs. The main question or only question at that was “where are the adults?” Even though i knew the answer to that question it still came up because it was rare anyone saw them do to 2 jobs and trying to get sleep i get it. Picture a wild crazy day care with to employees to be found. Anyways...
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...Whenever I was bored, I would find myself drifting up the stairs, down the hallway, past the door to my room and the wall lined with pictures, through my parents' bedroom door and the entryway to the bathroom, taking a right, and sitting. My mother's closet, although a strange place to wander, would bring me comfort. Hiding among the clothes was like a shield against the outside world. There I could try on stilettos and pretend I was an important business woman like my mother. It was only until one day when I found something that horrified me: a brown, crinkled paper bag with a bottle of vodka hiding in it. My world was turned upside down. My stomach hurt and the clothes around me seemed to be watching my every move. Time slowed down as the realizations hit, leaving me to connect the dots between the strange events prior to this discovery. Living with an alcoholic mother was something I just grew up with. Her constant disappearances, when I did not know where she was for months on end, caused a blissful ignorance that was only burst open along with the paper bag. However, these events did not subside with my comprehension. I would run the the neighbor's house when any sense of a storm came to me, hearing my father's words through the limestone block walls of the house. Ultimately, the alcohol, the fighting, the yelling, the hiding, and the tension was what lead to my parents' divorce. After my father was out of the house, I started keeping the receipts from all the bottles...
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...The light in this room is too bright. I can barely see. True this is half from the light and half from the swollenness of my eyes. I feel a sharp pain in the back of the neck, the kind you get when you get a shot at the doctor. I figured this was due to a shot of adrenaline given to me in order to wake me up from my passed out state. The white walls surrounding me are empty of any windows. The ceiling gives me the ability to look at the horrific body I now hold. I look ahead. Six chairs filled with six bodies. I presume they are my family. The creak of the door is unbearable. As if a thousand nails were scraping an old, dull chalkboard. In she walks with her minions close behind her. The heavy clunky sound from the boots echo in my head, it aches more and more with every step. “Hello Hailey. By this time, I believe you knew you would soon see me. How are you. Well I guess that is an irrelevant question. Obviously you wouldn’t be here if you were doing well!” Mrs. Elliena followed with an innocent cuckle. I laughed along with her, in my head I mean. The fact that she used the term “well”. Her “well” meant me giving up the secrets of who showed the people the video of the truth. My “well” meant me keeping the secret and letting the truth shine. “Anyways, let’s get straight to business. You know something I don’t, but would like to know. Would you like to share that information?” “We both know the answer to that is no, so why ask? Why bring me here? Nothing will make me betray the...
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...The first time I saw human remains, I'd gagged on the pungent scent that had lodged itself in the back of my throat. However, as I stared at the corpse at my feet, it no longer bothered me. I’d had that job for eight years, and I still wasn’t sure which was worse. “There’s something so beautiful about death,” I sighed as I knelt on the ground, kicking up dust as my feet slid backwards. “Don’t you think, Alby? I mean, it’s tragic, but it’s also so symbolic.” The sun sat directly above me in the clear sky, scorching every inch of exposed skin as it watched me work. A bead of sweat rolled down the back of my neck, making its way down my back. I cringed as the soft cotton of my new underwear absorbed it. Great, I thought. It’s only eight in the morning, and I already feel disgusting. Alby’s boots settled in the dirt as she walked up beside me. She sighed as she pulled her curly hair into a bun. “No, Sweetie,” she replied, the remnants of her accent weaving itself into her words, “I don’t.” Sliding her fingers into her blue latex gloves, she squatted next to me. “I just think it’s sad—especially when it’s murder.” I shrugged as I looked at the remains—the bones that had been stripped of flesh—and tried to determine a cause of death. “You don’t know, Alby,” I said as I searched for any indication that it was, in fact, murder, “that this was murder. We have no way of knowing what happened to this individual until we examine the remains.” A soft breeze touched my face as it blew by...
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...The cool evening breeze fluttered by, whipping the fire around again. Sparks swirled as the breeze passed by, and then came to rest of the cracking, orange logs that burnt slowly. Nick shoved them a little closer together with a stick, and then leaned back onto the log he sat on. Once the breeze past, the warm evening weather returned. The sky was still light enough to show the major detail of the forest beyond the clearing. Bugs swarmed through the air, buzzing angrily at Nick’s swatting hands. The night was peaceful despite the bugs, and had lots to offer. It sure beat spending another night boxed in inside his camper trailer, for Nick. “The tents are ready to go,” Danny said, taking a seat on the log next to Nick. “Good. Are the sleeping bags all laid out?” he asked. Danny nodded. “Yep.” “Okay, that’s good. We’re doing good.” Alan emerged from the trees seconds later, carrying another load of firewood. “That’s enough for now, Alan. Thanks,” Nick said, fighting to hold back a chuckle. The guy had spent so much time hunting for firewood, it was amusing. “Okay, got it,” Alan replied before dumping the firewood to the ground. Nick took a sip from his instant coffee he’d brought along as he watched Alan’s shoulder closely. It was now properly bandaged, thanks to the First Aid kit. But, the whole thing made Nick nervous even despite it being aided. The creature that had scared him could’ve easily passed on a deadly disease, sickness, or God knows what else...
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...As I sat isolated in the cafe of such guiltless crowds, I felt as if the urge to harm the innocent had subsided. But then, darkness fell over me like a cold blanket. I needed to feel the warmth of blood against my fingers once more. Effortlessly preying upon the innocent, I found the one to vex. She was surrounded by several of her friends, all of whom were wearing uniforms with a familiar tag, Lake Oswego High, written across their backs. I figured they were cheerleaders, but I hastily wandered. How shall I induce the naive girl? Because even as my desires elevated, all I longed for was for the fish to catch the bait. I sat there, watching stealthily. And slowly, I thought of the many different ways to make her suffer, as I had when I was young. Everyone should feel how I did during those somber times, dark, depressed, and in pain. I indeed was scarred emotionally, but I dare say that my eyes were opened to more possibilities than others. I have the profound ability to see who needs more pain and darkness in their lives, such as the girl I was glaring at. One might think of this to be a doing of a maniac, but I deem it only justice to carry out maltreatment amongst the privileged. After my reminiscing, I later found myself eavesdropping, all thanks to my acute hearing. “So, what are we doing tonight? Movies, mall, my place for a sleepover?” What interesting things young girls do during their free time. “No, sorry Stephanie, I have homework and a big exam tomorrow. Maybe...
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... He kept absolutely still as the footsteps got louder; His breathing heavy as he awaited the inevitable. He felt his heart rate getting faster and faster with each daunting slam of the intruders feet, slowly carrying him, and whatever malicious intent he may have. He tried to steady his breathing in hopes that his "great idea" to hide in the closet would be enough to save him. He thought about calling the police, but the noise could get him killed before he even finished dialling. He only wished now he had gotten a chance to call his family, to be a better brother and son. Suddenly his fear transformed itself into a strange mixture of both regret, truma, and pure sadness. Is this really how it was all going to end? After all these years spent stressing about the future. focusing on himself, not being there for people; this is how it was all going to end? Oh what he would give to have a to-do over! She found it strange that she didn't recogize any of the furnature, then again, her mother did say that she was completely changing her style for the new house. Stil, something about the decor seemed, masculine. The other strange thing, of course, being that no one appeared to be home, despite two cars being parked in the driveway. How long had it been since she visited her parents? She supposed a lot can change in a year, and yet something about this home seemed wrong. "Oh my God am I in the wrong house?" She whispered to herself, so as not to scare the owner. "Is...
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...Raising her hand, she said, “Sure, he was about six feet tall, two hundred pounds, wearing a denim jacket with a hole near the pocket. He was wearing a ski cap, pulled down over his face. I couldn’t see the color of his skin.” +++ Within the hour, Detective Wallace and Detective Johnson arrived along with the CSI team. “What do we have?” Detective Wallace asked. Following Officer Jackson up the driveway, he led the way behind the garage. After checking the victim, Detective Wallace collected the information from the officers before talking to the neighbors. Setting up their equipment, the CSI team collected additional evidence, took photographs, checked fingerprints. “Mrs. Davis, what can you tell us about Mrs. Lincoln?” Detective Wallace asked. “Katherine and I’ve been friends for years. Her daughter, Marlene lives in Jackson Heights. I have her address and phone number if you want it.” “Thank you, would you get it for me.” Walking over where Karen was standing, Detective Johnson asked, “Have you seen anyone out this morning?” “Earlier this morning I heard a dog barking and thought it was a neighborhood dog wanting in the house. Connie Lucas is one of Katherine’s closest friends. She usually has her morning coffee on the patio. She gave me her phone. You’ll find her in that brown and white house over there. You might want to talk to her. Give me a minute, to get their number.” Rushing into the house, Karen returned with a paper and handed it to the detective. The officer...
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...Letting go, she thought immediately as Brett's fingers rasped exquisitely against her g-spot, sending waves of pleasure through her entire body. Her legs began to shake, and her breath caught hard in her throat as she realized she could no longer hold back. For a moment, she was silent, her eyes softly closed as his teeth dug into her skin. Then, her body did what it had been so deeply aching to do since the prior night. In a matter of moments, she was shivering under him, her eyes squeezed shut as she let her head fall back with a scream as she finally came for him. Her hips bucked gently against his hand, begging for more of their own volition while Elena moaned and whimpered and shivered under Brett, losing control in every sense of the word. In a few long moments the wave subsided. Elena's eyes fluttered open to see Brett looking down at her in silence. Her eyes widened as she realized what she'd just let happen, and fleetingly wondered if the driver had heard. She heard heavy breathing from his direction and realized, of course he had. Her cheeks flushed. She wasn't a girl easily embarrassed, but then again, she so rarely lost control in that way, and certainly never when there were onlookers. That price was too high for even her wealthiest patrons, and yet, somehow, Brett had gotten it for free. "Why aren't we there yet? Shouldn't you be focusing on something else?" she finally snapped, turning to look at the driver, who had in fact turned completed around to look directly...
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...Zetia saw my discomfort and pulled me to her. “Von, don’t worry about it. Your wife knows what that woman wants and she is a good planner. Don’t think that warrior was assigned to our door by some random chance.” Julie continued her whispering with the highly muscle-toned guard as Zetia, and I walked down the hallway towards the stairs. As we started down the creaking-wood stairs I looked over my shoulder. I saw Julie pushing the young woman into our bedroom and closing the door behind them. “Oh Moon Mother, the pheromones,” I thought. “The poor woman is going to go crazy.” Even though Julie had closed the door I knew she was smiling. “See, your wife is just sealing the deal,” Zetia said, a bit smugly, still guiding me down the stairs. “We want capable and trustworthy women to handle communications with the magic mirrors. Your other wives are busy building their new home on the butte. Julie’s task is to recruit guards for the wizard’s tower and her communications department.” My mouth must have fallen open. “Department is the right word right?” Zetia asked. I sighed and confirmed it with a silent nod. “My mistress says she is multi-tasking, whatever that is. That Wolf was the last one on the list.” “List?” I asked, as we walked into the common room. “Sure, all the other female Wolves have committed to joining your Clan,” Zetia confirmed. “I am so lucky they haven’t signed employment contracts for the mercenary company,” I thought. “Hajin would kill me. He will be mad anyway,...
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...Inside, I told the same lady behind the desk that I had taken a picture of the licenses plate of the red sports car and asked if she could run it through their system to see who owned it. “Of course I can sweetie, but it may take a while,” she said. “That’s fine, Lieutenant John C. Marsh and his assistant, Officer Zach Bartley, called me to come back down here today to talk to them about the investigation. Take your time.” “Ms. Montana! There you are! Please join us,” Officer Bartley said as he motioned me to follow him. We entered the same room as before, room 203B. I took a seat in the same chair before saying anything about the red sports car. Lieutenant Marsh came in shortly afterwards with his notepad and a bunch of files—one included all of the pictures of the policemen who are currently working in the state of Kentucky, while the other included all of the forensic evidence collected from the crime scene. “Nice seeing you again, have you heard anything else new about the case?” Lt. Marsh asked. “Actually, yes, but could I see if I can recognize any of the policemen from the crime scene first?” “Absolutely.” He laid out fifteen images of the men who closely fit my description across the broad, wooden table. Almost immediately, I picked out a man named ‘Christopher Conrad’ and said, “This is him.” “Magnificent! This man actually works here in our county. I’ll contact him before you leave here today. Now, what new information do you have relating to Mr. Allen Taylor’s case...
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...“Why is he so mean, it was all just an accident,” I thought reading during lunch on the cold bathroom floor. My eyes were filled with tears. The emails and messages flooded into my head. “You’re a beep...Hey guys, it’s I.S.I.S.,” wrote Geoffrey. “He has convinced everyone to segregate me from everything,” I whispered holding back the tears. I remembered when I looked in the mirror and asked if I truly were these things, waiting for an answer. “All I could ever here was the treacherous gossip used every time when I was visible,” I whispered. As the wound up thoughts went away I heard a voice. “Did you see how I.S.I.S. acted today,” called a voice. “Yeah, she’s so mean,” said another. I slowly laid my encyclopedia down and peaked...
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...Alice thought she had found her footing. That nothing was going to ruin her 7th grade year. Nobody was going to make fun of her. Her dyslexia wouldn’t hold her back. She’d finally be able to stand on her own two feet again. That was how she felt before five extremely horrifying words slipped passed her dad’s lips one night. “We are moving to Quebec,” he announced. “I’ve already talked to Vanessa about it and we think this will be a good opportunity for us all. We’ll be closer to her family who live over in Ontario and you’ll get an opportunity to experience a slightly different culture,” he explained like the idea was wonderful. Alice stared at her dad. “Moving to Quebec! A place where they speak mainly French?” she thought and nearly fainted at the dinner table. Moving to Quebec meant learning a new language and Alice already had enough trouble understanding English. She felt like she was slowly slipping again, under the invisible force that held her back constantly. “When are we moving?” she asked slowly, trying to repress the urge to whine. “The end of the school year,” Vanessa answered with a sweet smile. “End of this school year?!” Alice replied her voice rising an octave. “How am I supposed to learn a new language by the end of this the school year?” “You won’t have to master the entire language by the end of the school year, but you’ll learn enough to have a jump start,” Her dad explained and passed a piece of paper to Alice. She slowly read over it and felt annoyance...
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