Nathaniel and Demetri

Cryptic n. and adj. /ˈkrɪptɪk/

A. noun.  1. Communication of knowledge by secret methods. 2. Something enigmatic or hidden; a secret, a mystery. Now chiefly: an enigmatic remark, piece of writing, etc. 

B. adjective.  1. Not immediately understandable; mysterious, enigmatic. 2. Secret, concealed; occult, mystical. Also: cryptographic.

C. person. 1. Nathaniel, that boy from school who seems to be followed by a cloud of gloom and doom. He’s always off in some dark corner, looking like he hates the world. I mean does that kid know how to smile? I doubt it. What’s worse is that every girl in school is simply swooning over him. I’ve never understood the appeal of a ‘bad boy’. There are plenty of nice guys around that won’t give you a cold shoulder when you wave them hello in the hallway and glare at you menacingly from across the cafeteria, I would know, I’m one of them. But no, all the girls just have to have Nathaniel! Nathaniel, Nathaniel, Nathaniel!  That’s all I ever hear. I wish I could get some recognition for once. 2.  Once again a girl has been turn down by our school’s very own Heathcliff. I believe she’s the sixth one this week, and it’s only Tuesday. I really don’t understand this guy. Seriously, he’s an enigma wrapped in myth wrapped in a mystery. If even one of the girls that has declared her love to him just glanced at me once, I would be ecstatic, but he couldn’t care less. You know something… he’s just lucky. The only reason anyone gives him a second glance is because of his good looks. Even I have to admit he’s handsome. His hair is red gold and fiery like the sun and his blue eyes shine like icy stars. His skin is pale and smooth, sprinkled lightly with light freckles. Nathaniel could easily pass for a Disney prince any day…

  

Discovery n.  /dɪˈskʌvərɪ/

A.noun. 1.The action of uncovering or fact of becoming uncovered; opening (of a bud, etc.) 2. The action of disclosing or divulging (anything secret or unknown); revelation, disclosure. 3. The action of displaying or manifesting (any quality); manifestation. 4. The unraveling or unfolding of the plot of a play, poem, etc. 5. The finding out or bringing to light of that which was previously unknown; making known.

B. event. 1. He’s been watching me. I’m sure of it. While I’m at my locker, walking down the hall, in class, at the cafeteria, I have this constant feeling that I’m being watched and when I look behind me he’s always there… glancing away. I’m going to keep my eye on him. This can’t just be me being weirdly paranoid. 2. He’s not even looking away anymore. Whenever I feel his eyes on me I look back, but now instead of peevishly glancing away as he did before, Nathaniel just stares intently. His gaze is intimidating. When I see his crystal blue eyes trained on me I get chills down my back, it’s surreal. I’m going to have to confront him before this goes too far. 3. Today I ran into Nathaniel in the hallway. I tripped and dropped my books and fulfilling his Disney prince role, he stopped to help me. It was like something out of a cheesy romance movie, simply nauseating. I did my best to avoid any contact with his hand, there was no way I was having a cliché moment with this kid. However, I could not have ever guessed what happened once we finished gathering everything up. When Nathaniel handed my last book he gazed at me once more with those piercing eyes of his, but this time instead of looking away I stared right back at him. At this, a deep pink blush appeared on his face and for a second… just a second I think he smiled. I was taken back. I had never seen him show even hint of emotion. All I can think about now is that is smile was beautiful.

  

Enlightenment, n. /ɛnˈlaɪtnm(ə)nt/

A. noun. 1. The action of bringing someone to a state of greater knowledge, understanding, or insight; the state of being enlightened in this way. Also: an instance of this. Rare before the 19th century. 2. The action or process of freeing human understanding from the accepted and customary beliefs sanctioned by traditional, esp. religious, authority, chiefly by rational and scientific inquiry into all aspects of human life, which became a characteristic goal of philosophical writing in the late 17th and 18th centuries. 3. Buddhism. The state of spiritual insight or awareness which frees a person from the cycle of suffering and rebirth; nirvana.

B. choice. 1. It’s been a week since that blush and that smile and now Nathaniel does not only plague my days with his gaze but also my nights. He is in my thoughts and in my dreams. What’s happened to me? Have I become like those mindless girls that fawn over him? No. I won’t let this happen, not over a simple smile. I’ve had crushes on boys before, but they were never this bad. Never to the point in which I’m secretly looking for him behind every corner, day dreaming about his hand brushing against mine, hoping to hear him call my name, “Demetri, Demetri”, and waiting to see his smile once more. I need to get him out of my mind. 2. Nathaniel’s been getting braver. He’s moved on from glances from across the room. Every once in a while he lingers by my desk in English class, and several times we’ve brushed shoulders while passing in the hallway. It’s like he’s realized I might actually be attracted to him and now he’s teasing me. This has turned into a game of cat and mouse but I’m not sure who the cat is and who’s the mouse. 3. I have come to terms with myself. I don’t know if I love Nathaniel but I do know that I lust for him and I do know that I want to love him. I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about this and I decided to make my move. I want him to smile for me and only for me. I’m going to open up to him. I can only hope that I’ll have more luck than all the girls that have come before me.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This is from an assignment I had for my Experimental Writing Class last semester. We had to take three dictionary entries and borrow the form and create a narrative. I just remembered I hadn't posted when I posted the poem right before this. The poem is about seeing beyond how people are defined by themselves and others and I thought this plays on that as well. 

Chronicles of Flumdiddle

So I'm taking a really fun experimental writing class, and the first day my teacher had us pick out 3 postcards and write something based off them.

What I got:
a poetry magazine ad with the name Hix and a banana on it
a postcard for an album called "East of Flumdiddle"
a postcard with a panther and panther facts

What I did with it:

Hix from East of Flumdiddle
was a Panther who loved to solve riddles.
He was smarter than any bard,
so no problem was too hard
for that clever panther of Flumdiddle.

But then there came a day
when one fruit's question left him with nothing to say
"What is smaller than a blade of grass,
but with ultimate power and class?"
Hix didn't even have a hunch
so he ate the banana for lunch.

~~~~~~~~
This was fun to write. I enjoy random out-of-the-box writings. It started off as just a semi-almost-a-limerick and then just ended up as a silly poem.
~~~~~~~~

Then for homework we had to take whatever we wrote and change it into a different form of writing. I did a poem, so I turned into a piece of fiction:

Date: 13th of Flum
Location: Private Office

        The name is Hix. Hix Panthorus. I'm a P.I.-- Panther Investigator, and I work in the Riddle Division. Ya know, solvin' riddles and whatnot. You've got a word problem? A question with no clear answer? I'm the on you come to.

        Ya see, I'm the smartest cat in town. My mind's a sharp as my claws. There ain't no problem I can't solve. Remember that Humpty Egg fella? I put him back together.

        Eeeeyup. I', the cleverest feline in this here kingdom of Flumdiddle and always will be. Wanna know why? Because I ain't just got book smarts, I got them street smarts too.

        Let me give you an example.

        One day, I was mindin' my own business here in the office, when this fruit came in. A real beauty of a dame as far as that part of the food pyramid is concerned. She was a banana. Smooth yellow skin, with a long slender body. Looked delicious.

        Now, this banana, she came to me with a seemingly simple question.

        "What is smaller than a blade of grass, but with ultimate power and class?" she asked.

        I'm going to be honest with you. At first I thought I had the answer in the bag, but then the more I thought about it the less sure i got. I had no idea what this gal wanted me to say. I mean what kinda question is that? "Smaller than a blade of grass..."

        So then I had a dilemma of my own. I couldn't let some floozy of a fruit go around and ruin my rep when I couldn't answer her question!

        So you know what I did?

        I ate her.

        She was tasty as she looked, and rich in potassium too.

~~~~~~~~~~
I seriously hope you read that in a ridiculously stereotypical 1920s Private Eye/ Detective voice. If you didn't, go back and read it again... out loud this time.

I really like writing this as a detective story, I think I might write some more like these later.

Random Writing That I Felt Like Doing

I'm home after my first semester of college and I have nothing to do. Thought I'd be productive and write some. This is just a free write. I have no idea where it's going to go. No editing. No anything. Enjoy.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"You shouldn't play with fire."
I looked up from my box of matches to find Gerard looming over me.
"You shouldn't play with fire," he repeated.

"I heard you the first time," I snapped, got up from my seat at my cluttered desk, and placed the matches in my robe pocket. I sauntered to a pile of books and scrolls in the far corner of dimly lit my room. From the bottom of the pile I pulled out a large worn out book. I glanced at the title, Of Dragons and Dames, and caressed the cover lovingly. "I believe you're here for this?"

Gerard shifted from his spot over my desk to face me and nodded with a fiendish grin. I tossed the heavy book to him and then sat back down at my desk. I grabbed the box of matches from my pocket and began to play with it again, waiting for him to leave. Ten minutes in dead silence passed and still he loomed over me.

"What. Do. You. Want?" I murmured venomously.

"I'm waiting for you to stop playing with those matches, Fira." he retorted and leaned against a shelf. I stared at him for a moment. His eyes were as golden as the flames I would be able to create if I unleashed my desire on the matches. That only tempted me more. I returned my attention back to the box and opened it.

Gerard's hand moved to mine and held it firmly.

"Fira. I said no," he huffed. I wrestled my hand away from him and squirmed up on top of my desk. I stood up triumphantly, keeping away from his grasp.

"You" I grinned and brought a match to my lips. "are not my boss." I blew a single flame on to the match igniting it brilliantly. I waved the flame in front of Gerard's face, his eyes darted from side to side watching it. "It matches your eyes Ger." I laughed and flicked the match at him. Gerard caught the burning match without flinching.

"This isn't funny," Gerard growled. I snickered and leaped from my desk on to a tall stack of boxes. Gerard glared at me, and I teasingly blew a flickering stream of scarlet flames in his direction.

"You ruin all my fun, Ger!" I sighed and jumped from the boxes into low pile of scrolls and empty parchments. I lay down in the pile and huffed a puff of smoke that floated into the darkness. I gestured with my finger for Gerard to approach me. I examined him as he came towards me. He was a lanky boy, with messy ginger hair, pale skin, a crooked smile and golden eyes. I laughed at how he carried himself with confidence now, when only a few months ago he had been nothing but a shy little bookworm I found hiding behind my books.

Gerard crouched down and looked me in the eye.

"I can't have you disobeying your own rules Fira," he pouted. I put my arms around him and drew him closer.

"A little fire never hurt anyone," I whispered and grinned widely, showing off my sharp teeth. Gerard ran his hand through my dark amethyst hair.

"Tell that to the book you accidentally burned last week," Gerard snickered and then smacked me over the head with a nearby novel. I let go of him and he jumped up. I pretended to rub my head in the spot he hit me.

"Aiiee, you're lucky us drakonei are resilient, or else that would have stung!" I hissed and faked a swipe at him.

"Stop complaining. We have work to do," Gerard scoffed and threw the novel at me. "And no more flames."

I grumbled and refused to budge. Gerard held out his hand for me to take. I ignored him and picked up a book. I really did prefer the time when he would have cowered at my hiss and flinched at my claws.

"Come on, you fanged, red eyed, lilac scaled dragon woman," Gerard grabbed my arm and pulled me up. "We still have so much more to discover. So many more secrets to find. Books to read. Things to learn."

Gerard patted me on the head, grabbed Of Dragons and Dames and walked away. I spat out a last spark of fire and returned to work. I vowed to make sure not to teach my next assistant how to stand up for himself. Self-confident humans would one day be the death of me.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Well... that turned out interestingly. I now have two new random characters to work with and a possible story. I think I will do more with these two sometime soon, I rather like them. I also really want to draw them. :D YAY RANDOM FREE WRITES~!!!

Also... not sure what drakonei are yet but in my mind they are humanoid dragon creatures. More humanoid than dragon though.

From Solitude to Friendship

            It was a warm sunny late afternoon and there was nowhere Peter wanted to be more than outside enjoying the weather. Instead, he found himself roaming the dreary empty school halls of Melode Private Academy for the Musically Gifted. It was his own fault he was there of course. He had left his cello in Music Room 3, for the fourth time that week, and if he didn’t fetch it his mother would surely kill him. Still, Peter couldn’t help but sulk over his unfortunate situation.

            “No one should have to be here afterschool,” Peter whispered to himself. “It’s mad eerie, and depressing too. These hallways are usually crammed with students and buzzing with gossip, but now… now it’s just… silent…”

            Peter stopped in his tracks. Just as he had declared the halls to be silent, he had been hit with the realization that they in fact weren’t. There was a quiet melody echoing through the hallways. A soft and melancholy sound, faint, feeble, yet beautiful. Peter frowned a bit, where could such enchanting  music be coming from?

            Curious, Peter began to follow the sound to its source. To his surprise, he found himself exactly where he had been heading to in the first place: Music Room 3. Peter was perplexed, who would be here so late after school? Sure he was still around, but he definitely didn’t want to be. Peter carefully placed his hand on the door handle and turned it. He pushed the door open slightly and peeked in.

            Sitting on a black chair in the middle of the room was a girl. She had long wavy light brown locks, which were held back by a grey bow, a dainty figure and fair pale skin. She wore a gothic styled black dress with grey lace and frills, as well as black knee high boots. Peter remarked to himself that she looked like a fragile porcelain doll. He continued to observe her and realized her eyes were closed and her lips stuck together in a slight pout. In her hands, the girl held a violin which she played with a skill Peter had never seen before.

            Peter opened the door fully and took a loud step into the room.

            “Hello? Is someone there?” the girl gasped and carefully placed her violin down on her lap. Peter thought this was quite an odd thing to say. The girl’s eyes fluttered open, and Peter noticed they were an icy blue grey. The girl turned in Peter’s direction but her gaze seemed to go right through him.

            “She can’t see me,” he realized. “She’s blind.”

            “Hello? Hello?” the girl repeated, her voice shaking.

            “Sorry for interrupting you…uh…Miss,” Peter answered. He cringed slightly at the word ‘Miss’. It wasn’t the sort of thing he would usually say, however, he felt like using any other word would surely break the strange girl he saw in front of him. Peter smirked slightly at the idea of a girl that could be physically hurt by words, it seemed silly… but then again this girl looked so delicate it could be possible. “I just came to get my cello that I left behind.”

            “Oh,” was all the girl said in response.

            “My name is Peter,” Peter said. With his usual confidence, he walked closer to the girl. “What’s yours?”

            The girl just glanced away blushing, she could sense him standing right next to her and it made her nervous. Her delicate slender fingers ran up and down the side of her violin.

            “That was a beautiful piece you were playing,” Peter said, hoping to get her to speak.

            “Oh thank you,” she whispered finally, and a small smile appeared on her face.

            “Who’s the composer?” Peter asked, leaning in closer to the girl.

            “…I am…” the girl admitted, her face turning red.

            Peter’s jaw dropped. He could not believe this fragile looking girl had composed such a melancholy song. “That’s amazing,” he said. “What’s it called?”

            The girl froze for a moment. Her smile disappeared, replaced by a sad and lonely expression. Concerned, Peter put his hand on hers but she pushed it away and stood up abruptly.

            “I have to go,” she declared and ran out the room clutching her violin close to her chest, leaving behind a shocked Peter.

            “What just happened?” Peter mumbled to himself, feeling thoroughly confused. “Did I do something wrong?”

            Peter waited a few minutes to see if the girl would come back but she seemed to be gone for good. He fetched his cello and returned to his mother who was waiting for him in the parking lot. During the ride home, Peter’s mother questioned him relentlessly over why he took so long to get his cello. However, Peter did not listen. His mind was focused on one particular blind stranger and her sorrow-filled song.

~~~~~~~~~~~

            The next day, Peter kept an eye out for the girl. He thought she was interesting and wanted to know more about her. Peter searched everywhere for the strange girl, in the hallways, in the classrooms, in the cafeteria, but he could not find her. It was as if she were hiding from him, lurking in the shadows, just out of his sight.

            Since he was unable to find the girl himself, Peter decided that he would make the girl come to him. After school, he returned to Music Room 3. He guessed that there would be a good chance that the girl would return to where he saw her last. Peter sat inconspicuously in the corner and waited. And waited. And waited. Until, finally, he heard the quiet creak of the door opening.

            Peter watched as the girl came silently into the room. Her black dress had been replaced by a grey one, and her hair bow was now white. She moved gracefully to her chair, took her violin out from its case and began to play. Peter recognized the song; it was the same one he had heard the day before. He closed his eyes and let the music envelop him. The notes were low and soft, and as delicate as the girl who was playing them. The song was morose and haunting. It seemed to carry all the grief of the world in its measures.

            When the song ended, Peter opened his eyes, curious about what the girl was going to do next. He observed her carefully, waiting for her to play another song. The girl sighed heavily and rested her violin by her side.

            “Solitude. It’s called Solitude,” the girl said suddenly. Peter’s eyes widened in surprise. He wondered if the girl was talking to him but how did she know he was there?

            “The name of the piece I just played is Solitude. Last time, you asked what it was called, didn’t you?” the girl turned her head in Peter’s direction. He was certain now that she knew he was in the room, but before he could answer, the girl picked up her violin once more. The song she played was new. It began like the end of Solitude, and then changed gradually. The sullen low notes from the previous song became mixed with lighter happier notes. The new melody was a motley of grief and joy and it was just as beautiful as the first melody. It seemed like the song was about to become happier when the girl stopped abruptly.

            “Why did you stop?” Peter asked. The girl turned away from him.

            “I don’t know how it ends…” she whispered. “My Solitude is changing. I have no idea what’s coming next.”

             Peter smiled and approached the girl. He grabbed a chair and sat next to her. “Well I have to confess I like the change. I was worried when I heard Solitude. It’s such a sad song…I never thought a pretty girl like you would be able to write something so gloomy.”  

            “What’s that supposed to mean?” the girl pouted and crossed her arms to look offended, but Peter could see her blushing. “I can write whatever I want.”

            “Oh I didn’t mean it that way!” Peter laughed. “It’s just that I could tell that you put a lot of emotion in to your work, and it saddens me to think that someone could feel so much sorrow and loneliness.”

            “Well… it’s none of your business how I feel,” the girl retorted and stood up to leave. “You don’t know me! You’re just some stranger that won’t leave me alone.”

            The girl reached down for her violin but Peter moved faster and snatched it up.

“You know something? You’re right I don’t know you,” Peter said with a grin and held the violin behind his back. “And I’d like to change that.”

            “What are you talking about? Why did you take my violin!” the girl exclaimed and reached out at Peter trying to grab her violin.  “Just give it back! Please!”

“Okay,” Peter said but he still kept the violin out of her reach. “But first, I have two requests.”

            “What?” the girl said and scowled in frustration.

            “First, I would like to know your name,” Peter leaned in close to her and whispered in her ear.

            The girl was silent, and her face reddened which just made Peter’s grin grow wider.

            “It’s Emy, my name is Emy.” she said at last.

            “Nice to meet you Emy,” Peter said. “My second request is that you let me be your friend.”

            “My friend? Why?” Emy asked.

            “Because you are a very talented composer and I think you’re cute,” he smiled. “It’s every guy’s dream to have a cute girl be his friend.”

            Emy scowled but then nodded. “Okay. Now give me my violin!”

            “I’m hoping we can be good friends, Emy,” Peter said. Then he placed Emy’s violin in her hands, and kissed her lightly on the cheek. “I’ll see you tomorrow, keep working on that song!”

            Then he quickly ran off, leaving behind a shocked Emy with her hand pressed to her cheek. Emy sat back down in her chair. She felt confused. For years she had been alone, staying away from others, immersing herself in her music. But now, she was alone as usual, but she did not feel lonely. Where there had once been only Solitude, something new was growing. So Emy did the only thing she knew. She picked up her violin and began to play. She began to play something new.

~~~~~~~~~~~

             Emy waited anxiously for Peter in Music Room 3, as had become her habit. Two weeks had passed since that first day she and Peter met and the day had come for her to finally show Peter her masterpiece. He was late. Emy sat down on her chair and propped up her violin on her lap.

            “Sorry I’m late,” Peter barged in. He put down his cello by a corner and sat down in his chair next to Emy. He took a moment to admire the girl. Emy was wearing a white dress and a small pink bow in her hair. Peter smiled. He liked the way lighter colors looked on her. “You look really nice today.”

            Emy said nothing and instead just began to play. Peter listened silently as the now familiar notes of Solitude filled the air. When Peter recognized the subtle notes that signified Solitude’s change into something else, he grinned. This was the reason he was there now, to find out what that something else was.

            Like before, the melancholy notes of Solitude slowly turned more cheerful. But this time, when Emy got to the part where she had stopped previously, she continued instead. The song picked up pace and the notes got higher and the melody became lighter. The song of sadness transformed into one of happiness.

            Emy finished the song and put down her violin. There was slight smile on her face, something Peter rarely saw. Emy waited patiently for Peter’s reaction.

            “What is that last part called?” Peter asked.

            “Friendship,” Emy answered. “The whole piece is called From Solitude to Friendship… So, what do you think?”

             Peter smiled and leaned in close to Emy.

            “I love it,” he whispered and then kissed her on the lips. Peter jumped out of his seat and grabbed his cello. “Teach it to me?”

            Emy laughed and nodded in agreement.

~~~~~~~~~~~

It was a warm sunny late afternoon and there was nowhere Peter wanted to be least than outside enjoying the weather. Thankfully, he found himself in the merry empty school halls of Melode Private Academy for the Musically Gifted. It was by his own desire he was there of course. He ran to Music Room 3 with his cello in hand, for the fourth time that week, for if he wasn’t on time Emy would surely kill him. Peter couldn’t help but smile over his fortunate situation.

An absolutely ridiculous story

It is funny how things never turn out the way you want them to. I spent most of the part of my day doing research for a story I wanted to write, but then I wasn't able to even start writing it because I promised Maya I would play with her. We ended up playing a game called Harold's Purple Crayon. We changed it up a bit, but the basic gist of the game was that you would pick a card with a word or phrase on it, draw it, then tell a story about it and you had to add on to the story as you picked up a card. The only other thing you had to do was keep the sequence of words in order that you picked them up. So in the end I ended up writing a story after all. It came out extremely ridiculous and amusing. Here it is: (The words I had to use are in bold)

Once there was a man who had an umbrella-shaped car. But one day he left his keys in his car, so he could not get in. So instead of taking an nice car ride, he decided to take an nap on his bed. But then he realized he did not have his sleepy-time gloves! The man could not sleep without his sleepy-time gloves!!! So he looked for them inside a violin, but they were not there, then he looked inside his dog, the were not there either. Saddened, the man decided to make himself an omelet, but then he could not find any eggs! Since he couldn't have an omelet, he decided to have a nice juicy apple, but then he found out that he did not have any apples either! The man was so frustrated!
“The whole world is against me today!” thought the man, “I guess I should just go live in a cave in the highest mountain I can find!”
The only things the man took with him were his favourite pig and his favourite pink fan. On the way up the mountain, the man got distracted by a pretty flower. Then he heard a odd noise, he looked up and saw that it was a plane flying above him. As he looked closely he saw that a queen was flying the plane. He thought that was rather weird. But then he realized that it was not a queen flying the plane, it was a moose! He thought that was even weirder. While he was watching the plane,the man realized he had forgotten his toothbrush at home! The man began to panic, he always always brushed his teeth, how was he going to brush his teeth in a cave without a toothbrush! Then the man saw a jungle and he decided to go explore in it to see if he could find something to use as a toothbrush. The man was not able to find anything. The only thing the man did find was a windmill, in the middle of the jungle. He decided to go have a look inside. However, he got bored of the windmill quickly and went back outside to the jungle, but as he went outside it began to rain! The man rushed quickly back into the windmill. While in the windmill, waiting for the rain to stop, the man heard a scary noise. Curious about where it was coming from the man decided to search for the source of the noise. Not a long time after he found where the noise was coming from. It was coming from a dragon! The man became frightened, until he saw that there was a zipper on the dragon!
“There aren't any zippers on dragons!” thought the man “It must be a fake!”
The man sneaked up behind the dragon and unzipped him! But what he found inside the dragon suit was a huge surprise! Inside the suit was a giant mutant alien banana! The man screamed an ran out into the jungle. He hid himself under a giant leaf. But the man was still afraid that the giant banana would find him and eat him, so he decided to climb up a tree. While up the tree, the man suddenly remembered that he had his telephone with him! The man called his cat, and asked her to come save him. The cat came to save him in a hot air balloon. The man and his cat, and his pig, rode in the hot air balloon to a police station. At the police station they told a police officer that there was a mutant banana on a rampage on a mountain. The police officer, the man, the cat, and the pig, all hoped on a giant butterfly and flew all the way back to the mountain. On the mountain they met a rabbit.
“The alien banana is destroying everything!” the rabbit told them.
“Oh my, we can't stop a giant mutant alien banana all by ourselves!” said the officer, “We need to get someone to help!”
“I know who can help us!” exclaimed the rabbit, “Super Octopus Man can help us!”
“But how to we get him to help us?” asked the man.
“Easy, we just give him a glass of milk” said the rabbit.
So the group called Super Octopus Man and asked him to help, but when he got there he said:
“Sorry but I don't drink milk anymore. I prefer ice cream!”
So then they gave him ice cream. After eating all the ice cream he wanted he wanted, Super Octopus Man went off to fight the giant mutant alien banana. They fought a huge and amazing battle and at the end, Super Octopus Man won. The battle was so awesome that the man and his cat and his pig, as well as the rabbit and the police officer decided to write a book about it. The book was such a big hit that even porcupines bought it, and horses too! (Even thought porcupines and horses can't read.) After a long and exciting day the man decided to go home, he realized it was a silly idea to live in a cave and besides he did not know if there were any alien bananas still around and he definitely could not afford to buy Super Octopus Man ice cream again and again so that he could be saved. As the man entered his house he tripped over a turtle.
“What are you doing here?” asked the man.
“Castles” said the turtle.
“What?' asked the man.
“Castles” repeated the turtle.
“He isn't very smart” said the man's cat, “ that is the only word he knows how to say.”
The man had seen so many odd things that day that he did not care anymore and decided to go take a nap even without his gloves. But as he went in his room he slipped and fell on his hands. When he looked to see what he slipped on he saw that he slipped on his sleepy-time gloves! The man rejoice with joy, but then right after he yelped in pain, because his hands hurt a lot. The man had to go to the hospital and have an x-ray done. The x-ray showed that the man had broken his hand bones and would never be able to wear gloves again.
~~~~~~~
Yeah... by the time I got to "castles", I had ran out of ideas.
It is amazing what you can come up with at the spur of the moment thought, hehehe.

A Day of Snow

Tina Kitten woke early one morning, looked outside her window and gasped. What did see that caused her to gasp so early in the morning? Outside her window she saw white, white snow.
It was spread like a large blanket, suffocating anything it could get it's hands on.The evergreen trees were white, the grass was white, the roads were white... Everything was white as, well, white as snow of course! Tina's little heart leaped in excitement, she had seen snow only once in her short life so far.She remembered well what snow brought with it besides the splendid beauty she saw outside.

Snow brought a day of fun, a day of adventures, a day unlike any other.

Tina jumped out of her bed and ran through her house shouting:
"It snowed! It snowed!"
Her many sisters and many brothers woke up with the exciting news.
Hyped on adrenaline, they rushed through the wholesome breakfast Mama Cat had made them.
Quickly they put on their snow gear, mittens, caps, gloves, scarves, boots and all.

They jumped into a big pile of snow, piling on top of each other, Tina was on top of them all since she was the smallest. Then they built snow forts and had a grand snowball fight, girls versus boys.
Afterwards, exhausted from their Snow War, they fell back on the snowy ground and made snow angels. They went inside to get some nice warm mugs of hot chocolate, but left very shortly after.
They then got busy building a big snow cat.

Much too soon, the kittens heard their mother calling once again.
"Come in little ones! Come in!" she called after them.
Reluctantly they came in, with sad long faces, and drooping whiskers. But their sorrow did not last for long for as soon as they got in the house Mama Cat announced to them that they were going to the Big Hill to ski and sled! The kittens expressions changed in a flash from sad to ecstatic!

The Big Hill was the merriest of places. Hundreds of animals came there for snow filled fun; there were cats and dogs, bunnies and monkeys, and many many more. There at the Big Hill the kittens had the most fun! They skied and giggled as they passed others who fell, but they always stopped to help after of course,they were well raised kittens. Then they went sledding, going faster and faster down the hill, swerving to avoid trees. Finally after they had all had as much fun as possible, they gathered to listen to the carolers who were by the big Christmas tree, and they all joyfully sang along.

On the ride back home the kittens started a chant, what the chant was you will never guess.
It was a chant for ice cream!
"Ice cream! Ice cream! Ice cream!" the little kittens chanted.
You might think this odd, ice cream on such a cold day??
But the cold was precisely why they wanted ice cream, for in the cold the ice cream wouldn't melt!

After the ice cream, they all went home. The tired kittens slowly got ready for bed, their energy all spent. Tina lay in bed with a big smile on her face. Once again the snow had not failed her. It had brought her a great wonderful day, just like it had done before and would always do in the future.

By FE.
Dec 23, 2008 (11:34pm hehehe nearly Dec 24)


Merry Holidays Everyone! ;D!

A super silly story i came up with during the break durin my videoclass

Super RISD Dude of Electricity and his buds
OMGSH!! Evil SuperChickens!!!!! they're gonna take over the world!! AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Super RISD Dude of Electricity SAVE US!!!..............please...................

Look over there! It's a bird! NO! It's a plane!

NO!
IT'S SUPER RISD DUDE OF ELECTRICITY!!

yaaaayyyy!!!!!


O M G! look who's with him! It's Windman! AND Super Solar Woman!!

HURRAH! they're gonna save us from the Evil SuperChickens!!!

wait... whats that?

OH NO!!

THE EVIL SUPERCHICKENS HYPNOTISED SUPER RISD DUDE OF ELECTRICITY, WINDMAN, AND SUPER SOLAR WOMAN!
THEY'RE ALL DOING THE CHICKEN DANCE AHHHHHHHHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
they look RIDICULOUS! LOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOL!

Well... since it looks like we're NOT going to be saved by Super RISD Dude of Electricity, Windman and Super Solar Woman,
I guess all we can do now is be enslaved by Evil SuperChickens, and do the chicken dance for the rest of our lives...

oh well...

Camp, by FE

'CLICK'

A great flash of light blinded her...again. A strict cruel voice sounded behind the light.

“TURN!” it yelled.

She turned.

“No! No! To the LEFT! I said to the LEFT!”

“No you didn't” - she thought... Many times a day, did she think of talking back to this jerk, but she knew she couldn't. The consequences would be...too harsh.

“GOOD, GOOD!” shouted the voice, “Now turn in a circle!”

She twirled in a quick circle.

“No! No! Slooooowwwwwly!”

She turned, slowly, and huffed. She was tired of this. Around her and in other rooms were other girls going through this same process. Beautiful girls, who all probably had something better to do yet were wasting their time here.

Unlike most people might think, all the girls here were quite talented. Jessica was a singer with a voice that made you forget whatever you were doing and would draw your attention as if she was the only person in the room. Melony wrote novels, good ones too, but was simply too shy to have them published. There were several actresses, like Tania and Margie. There was Kayla, who was a scientist, which was a bit unusual for this crowd.

But they were all civilized, intelligent girls. So, maybe they weren't geniuses, not counting Kayla of course, but they weren't dumb either. Well, there were a few of them who weren't exactly bright, perhaps a bit air headed sometimes. Still smart, dumb, talented or not, most of them really were just wasting their time.

'RING' The lunch bell rung.

A rush of people ran, no, speed walked, across the room. Soon there was no one there...except her. She sighed.

“When will this HORROR END!” she yelled into the empty room.

And as though, waiting for a reply, she stood in the now cold breathless room, ready to collapse. Then after a few silent moments she left the room; to join everyone else in the humdrum daily routine that they went through.

“One day,” she thought “ One day I will leave this place. One day I will leave this...this...Model Boot Camp! And when I do will join the world and begin a new life.”
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Written sometime in 2007 I think...
The story was basically written on the idea of a model boot camp.
I thought it would be a cool idea so I wrote about it. The title right now is just "Camp" because I didn't want the reader to know what kind of camp it was exactly until the end. Giving it the name of "Model Boot Camp" would just give it away immediately, and that would be no fun!
One thing I like about this story is that you don't really learn anything about the girl. It's all pretty mysterious.

Enjoy

The Woesome Tale of Horace
or
The day a snail tricked some gods

Sept 2008, by FE

Once there was a snail. His name was Horace. Horace the snail was the fastest snail on earth. He could go an amazing 1 mph! One day Horace went out for a walk. Unfortunately for Horace,he forgot to check the weather channel that morning. So he didn't know that the terrible hurricane Ike was coming in that day. Convinced that it was going to be a great sunny day, Horace decided to be risky and went out to a big field with very little cover.

It was an hour later, while Horace was munching on a blade of grass, that the first gray rain cloud arrived. Soon after that, the storm began. Horace found himself drowning in the massive raindrops. Furious, he began cursing the rain, the clouds, and the thunder.

Then out of nowhere appeared: Thor, Norwegian god of thunder; Zeus, the Greek god of thunder; Jupiter, the Roman god of thunder; Poseidon, the Greek god of the sea; Neptune, the Roman god of the sea; Ægir, the Norwegian god of the sea; as well as various other gods of rain and thunder and water, all from various different cultures.

The gods were all very angry at the previously atheist snail. They did not take the cursing of their creations kindly. Horace, thinking quickly immediately pleaded for their mercy. The gods, who had been feeling quite jolly not counting the whole cursing business, decided to forgive Horace if he accepted and won a challenge they gave him. The gods all loved free entertainment.

Quick thinking Horace, wasted no time and suggested a challenge right away.
“ How 'bout a race? Select the fastest snail you can find and I'll race 'im!” said Horace. The gods, not knowing about Horace's impressive speediness agreed to having a snail race and if Horace did not win he would be punished.

The gods searched far and wide for a snail that they could deem as the fastest. Eventually they found one named Steve. Steve was the quickest snail in his grass patch, he could go a speedy .6 mph!

The gods were flabbergasted by Steve's speed and thought that this was as fast as any snail could ever possibly go. But then again, they didn't know much about things as trivial as the speed of a snail.

They created a flat rock 21 inches long (about the length of two pieces of paper), and put a finish line at one of the ends. Steve and Horace were lined up in front of the starting line. Thor threw a mighty thunderbolt into the sky, and the race began!

Horace slimed across the rock as fast as he could, he was so full of adrenaline he went a .2mph faster than usual, an astonishing 1.2 mph! Being so amazingly fast he easily passed Steve and won the race. The gods then realized they had been duped.

The gods, even more upset than before knew they had to let Horace go unpunished. But they were furious, not only had this puny snail cursed them, but he also tricked them! Now more than before they wanted to punish the little snail. Sadly they knew the could not inflict any harm on the snail without going back on their word, or at least that's what they thought.

One young god, however, had a plan. Splish, was the god of puddles. He was fairly new and mainly worshiped by young children, though there was the occasional childish adult. Splish, though very young, was very clever. Splish decided to confront Horace.

“Horace,”he said, “ the gods and I have been quite impressed by your speed and intelligence! We wish to grant you one wish.”

Horace was shocked.

Horace took a few moments to think and then decided on his wish.
“ I wish to be remembered forever, as the fastest snail on earth who tricked the mighty storm gods.”

“Well then, let your wish be granted!” said Splish, as he snapped his fingers.

A puff of smoke appeared around Horace; and before any one realized what had happened it disappeared. Where Horace the snail had once stood was a small statue of a snail with an alarmed look on it's face. On the base of the statue there was a message engraved.

“ This is Horace. May he be forever remembered as the foolish snail who tricked the gods with his ridiculous speed.”

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See, I said I would post it!

I wish you could indent in the posts it would save space instead of having a huge space between each paragraph.

Deep in the Sea

2008, by FE
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This is the story of a mermaid who once had all the things anyone could wish for.
She was young, beautiful, popular, loved by all. She was surrounded by friends all the time, she was her father's favourite little girl, and her bright red hair astonished everyone. Her name was Ariel. But one day a new mermaid appeared. She was beautiful, golden haired, bright as the sun and very young. She became instantly popular, and as she did that , she took Ariel's place. Now she was the youngest, most beautiful and popular mermaid. Ariel became jealous. Her jealousy turned into fury, and she became so overcome with envy that she caused all her friends to leave her because of her constant bitterness. The new mermaid thrived, she became the center of attention and Ariel and her fiery disposition were forgotten.
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All my drawings have a story.(unless they're just small doodles)