BB:HALLOWEEN!!!

Hi, since Halloween is such a special occasion to me and I feel I've almost negated it on here, I thought it deserved a Bonus Blog (it also happens to be Wednesday, possibly thinking of posting regular posts on Wednesday, if it happens it'll be next year). My last one was actually high quality, which is a rarity with my Sat posts, so I shall try to continue the trend.

Inspired by my recent discovery of Creepypasta.com. I can not for the life of me actually remember how I stumbed on to it. It was possibly Youtube, but that doesn't sit right with me. Oh, spooky. By the way, you can find me as PhoenixAngel on it, only in the comments for the moment. Also stay away from the uncategorised section if its dark outside or on alone and like me have too active imagination sometimes. Though, still alive at the moment.

 I thought I do my hand at scary story for you all. I would just like to say that it been a while and I want to get back in the swing of these since my NaNoWriMo is horror related. Not telling till Saturday.

Story:

It was Halloween and April was stuck inside. She had the intention of trick treating, but this year the monster had brought a thunderstorm with them. It probably creating the most cliche possible setting for a horror story, April was just waiting for the power to go to out. It thankfully didn't.

Still April found herself staring out into the rain filled street empty of trick or treaters. Any of other night it would be a normal sight, this night it was extremely sad one for April. The only sign of what occasion it was, was the drowned out pumpkins and decorations that had been put out early. She gave a side glance at the pumpkin that shared the window with her. It crookly ginned at her, she still need more practice at craving them. But it was alright for her second attempt, she had only been allowed to crave her own lantern since the last Halloween.

Her mother hadn't trusted with her knife till the ripe age of 13. Her age was actually the main reason that the lack of Halloween activity saddened her. She was so close from leaving the age of acceptable trick or treating, well until she had kids of her own which should be a long time away. She really only had two more years until everyone would just make due with parties.

Halloween falling on a school night had mean all the parties had been. It kinda annoyed April that no one really made a proper effect to celebrate on Halloween unless its actually date fell on Friday or Saturday. She had though.

She sat wearing her costume, semi-concious of not rubbing her white make-up off. She had choosen to go that year as a bloody ghost as it was the only horror creature she had never been. She began to stare at the flashes of light, just willing the rain to turn off before its too late. It was half-past-seven and if it didn't turn off soon then they're would be no point going out. April sighed loudly.

"April, why don't you just eat our trick or treat sweets?" said April mother while watching the TV.
That was another thing that depressed April, they was not a decent horror film on. The only one she had found in the listing was one she seen, and it had been so crap that it wasn't even funny. She could go watch all the Cartoon specials but she had seen them all too and just didn't feel like it. She would rather watch the nightmare of a Halloween.

"Its not the same," April muttered. The joy of Halloween sweets was earning them by walking to all the houses in the local area, performing the trick of your choice and then sorting your haul to see what you got.

April knew exactly what they had in terms of candy, just the multi-packets and plain fruit. What April wanted was tabit or chocolate apple. Not toffee ones, they just hurt her teeth. Only the homemade was had good quality apples, the supermarket ones always just the bad ones. If she had known that there was going to be a storm, she might have tried making her own. Yet, she had no cooking chocolate in the house and the apples were bit rotten.

"Why don't you go read or something?"

"Good idea," April sounding almost cheerfully, before exiting the room. The night was about to get Only to come straight back with collection of Classic horror stories and took her place back at the livingroom window. April sat there very still reading, if anyone had past the window they would have thought that April was just a very realisic decoration and of course get a shock when the reading ghost turned the page of its book.

As tempting as is to end the story here, as a happy tale of how written horror saved the night. This is not where its ends otherwise itself would not be a work of horror.

As April was reading the thunder stopped, but not the rain. There would be no going out at all. April was no longer sadden by this, as she was lost in the haunting of an old mansion that had its inhabits spooked to the cores. She was interrupt with the flash of light outside before lights inside disappeared.

"Mum," April shouted in her presumption that her mother had turned the light off in exiting. April had been so in glossed that she didn't realised that TV had went off too. She turned back to the empty room as the lights flicked back on. Her mother must have wander off during an ad.

April look back at the street, it was in complete darkness. The street lamps were out. April was confused by this as the street lamps were meant to have a back-up generator.

As she scanned her neighbours windows for their power status. She noticed a figure walking along the street, she was shocked by this. 'You have be a nutter to walk in that,' she thought to herself. She continue to watch the hooded figure as it got closer to her house. Getting bored of their slow pace,she went back to her book, but the words seem bury now and she just couldn't make them out.

She rubbed her eyes and stood up from the window. She was probably just tired and going blind in her old age. She figured she probably tell her mother about it though. April was about to walk out the door when she heard a knock at the door. She was tempted to ignore it, but decided to answer thinking it would be petty important to be out this weather. 

The front door was in off side bit of the livingroom, it was cold and dark as the radiator was never switched on. April flicked the light on, but they refuse to come on. April felt a swell of panic inside her, she ignored it. She opened the door before she had the chance to freak out.

The door open revealed, a small boy dressed in black at the door.

"Trick or Treat," he whispered to the door. April stood and stared at the lone boy. His eyes and hair were covered by a hood. The skin visuable was pale white. April couldn't tell if it was make-up or from the cold.

"Do your parents know your out?" April ask sweetly. She figured the boy must have sneaked out, she had to admire his spirt for that, but he only six years and his parents must be worried about him. It might have been the wrong question to ask but too late.

The boy just smiled at April and said

"They're know where I am."

April bit her lip.

"I'm sorry, but I don't we have any sweets," Her brother had probably made off with them by now and were in the back of the house. It didn't seem right to leave the boy alone even for a second, however she didn't want to invite him in. "I don't think you're going to have much luck tonight. I think most people gave up with the rain."

"You're wrong, I'm sure I'll get my treat," the boy said in still a low voice. "Don't you want to go trick or treating?" He ask and held up his hand to April.

She look into the pale pam. She did want to go trick or treating. It suddenly felt like her last chance, as though there wouldn't be another Halloween...for her.

She took the boy's hand and went out with him. That was April's last Halloween. Her mother discovered her daughter's electrified body lying at the window. The thunder had turn to lighting and April had just been too close to the socket that was right to the window when it hit the house.

Though her neighbours did swear they gave sweets to a ghost that Hallows Eve.

The End

Oh, by the bye, I'm going as Death this year. Merry Halloween.

Two Empty Weeks (At least I read)

Well, I've college on Monday. Were the hell did those two weeks go? Time sure does flies when you doing nothing, while avoiding productivity. Does that mean doing nothing is fun? Probably a bit, well more than doing work.

However, I did do something slightly productive by finally finish reading the Complete Stories of Sherlock Holmes.  I won't say more than that, because frankly I've went on about a lot these past months and made a video (down below) that probably says too much on the matter.

 

I've read other books and in act of childish I've been reading children books, A series of Unfortunate Events by Lemony Snicket. But then again when I was a child I could not read, so then why shouldn't read them now....Yeah, I have nothing to say this week. 

Just doing nothing all week, I sort everything out tomorrow. Still need a proper Halloween costume, any last minute suggestions are welcome. Everything is done tomorrow.

I'm truly off to annoy my black and white cat and dog.

Blood Chest (The possible start of a Novel)

Hi, you lot, so I haven't brought anymore books this week, which is meant to be a good thing. Though, I did end up getting books from the library yesterday but that no big deal since they're kid books (so short) and I've already read one. You know I've start to confuse what I've said on my blog and what I've said in my vlogs/book videos.

A family of pumpkins now live in my room.

 So as you know holidays mean I've done nothing or nothing interesting to talk about. But I did write something this week and I'm thinking of maybe using it as the basis of my NaNoWriMo novel. Not sure though yet, I shall think about as well as figuring out what my costume going to be this year. Vampire is tempting as always, maybe I just be a heart broke ghost. We're see...

Working Title: Blood Chest (Silent Beauty) 

I bite my lip, I stare at the front of the class not at all listening to what the teacher is saying. I begin to bite harder and keep adding pressure till I taste the blood drip into my mouth. I lesser the pressure, but keep my teeth where they are, keeping the wound wet.  I eventually let go when the bell rings. The blood begins to heavily flow now my chin. I ignore it. I pack up the paper and the book of the month into my bag, being carefully with neither. I walk up and go to leave with everyone when the teacher says my name.

I don’t remember his name; I’ve been referring to him as Mr English in my head since the start of the year.  I actually think he’s too young to be married, but master for whatever reason went out style for boys over the age of twelve. I turn around leaving my face bank. The blood drips now on to my chest at this point. I still don’t whip it away.

He stares at me shocked. Has he never saw blood before?

“Your lip is bleeding.” He’s says dumbly.

“I know,” I say only moving my lips in response. He’s clearly confounded by my lack of action. The blood continues to drip down. He follows red drop from my chin to my chest, where continues down under my top.  He jumps a little when he realise where he looking at. He was only doing out of instinct to follow movement. He’s not a prev like Mr Music.

“What was it you’re wanted to talk to be about?” I ask blandly. He jumps again; I fight the urge to smirk. I don’t why, but I can unnerve teacher petty easily and for whatever realise I get a small pleasure from it. I know that’s bad thing, but I can’t help who I am.

“It’s about your essay.” Oh, yeah that. I now notice it in his hands.

“It’s very good. However,” O, big word uni boy.  Is “but” too good for ya? I’m tempt to say this but don’t for obvious reasons. “You can’t just write on whatever book you want. It’s important that you stick to the class book, you need to practice for your exam…” This is where I stop listening, I hear exam and I switch off.

He’s stopped and waiting for a response.  I just look at him and bite my lip, restarting the now dry wound.

“Stop that.”

I scape my teeth across my lip before letting go; the blood starts down my chin again.

“Here,” He says holding out a tissue to me. I just shake my head at it. “Please.”

“It won’t happen again, I just felt writing about something more interesting in comparison to book I’ve already read six times”

“You’re only need to read it twice.”

“How many times have you read it?” I ask doing my best to keep my voice toneless. He shakes his head at me.

“That’s not really the point.” We stand, him awkwardly, in silence.

“May I go now, sir?” I drag the sir out.

“Yes, no,” he says muddily. “You’re a good thinker, but a horrible student…”

“Oh please,” I say interrupting. “You’re not going to do the cliché inspiring English teacher thing, are you?” He looks shocked. “Here how it’s going to work, you leave me alone and I’ll get an A in my exam.”

He looks annoyed now.

“I’m your teacher…”

“I’m just a candidate. No one actually cares as long as I don’t drag the school down with me. It’s your job to prevent me from doing this; if I ain’t failing then you have nothing to worry about. Now if you’re done, I have a lunch to read through.”

I walk out the room without waiting for a response. I know there’s a good chance that I might get into serious trouble. I don’t really care. I knew I was asking for trouble with that essay but he gave us that same question three times already.  I wrote it to amuse myself and never did the real one. So I just handed it in. I suppose, I could have told him I handed in the wrong essay the next day…I just didn’t care that much.

I feel eyes at the back of me as I rush down the hall. I snap back to see a boy staring at me.

“What are you looking at?” Original I know. He looks me up and down.

“A vampire by the looks of it,” he says smugly.  I glare at him before continuing my path outside. I bang out the door. There only few people about, I run around to behind the building before anyone can fake interest to why my face is covered in blood.

I dump myself on the brick wall that doubles as a bench. I exhale my frustration into the empty air around me. I take in one more breath before I take out the book I’m currently reading out of my bag. I’m soon lost in the life or death problems of the protagonist. It’s actually kinda of shallow compared to the last in the series. The romance is such a major feature in this one. I easily bore of romances in books or any media; at least it isn’t a triangle.

I realise there someone near me when I smell cigarette smoke. I look up at the future cancer patient.  It’s vamp boy. He is leaning against the building staring at me, puffing smoke in my direction.

“Do you mind?”

“Not at all,” He says smugly. His whole appearance said smug. His clothes were dark, but proper and expensive. Not something he cared much about if his battered converses were anything to go by. I scuff my fake ones against the wall. His face was that brand type of handsome, that he had tried to disguise with a lip piercing and obviously fake black hair.  Going by the fag in his mouth he was rebelling against his proper and rich parents.

“Go away Emo,” I say meaning it as an insult. He ignores me and sits next to be on the wall. I begin to cough. The only thing that sets off my asthma is smoke. Besides that I only have weaken lungs from childhood infection.

“Want a puff?” he asks smirking, putting the fag in front of my face.

“Sure,” I say grabbing it, throwing on the ground and use my boot to grind it against the tarmark.

“It okay, you can have the rest of it.” I give him a death glare before returning to my book. He begins to read it at my shoulder. He actually has the nerve to put his head on me. I hit him with the book, it’s a shame it’s only a paper back, before getting up.

I’m tempted to just leave, but this is my place and this prev had followed me here. I wasn’t fleeing my territory.

“Do you normally stalk girls?”

“Only the petty vamp ones.”

“Why, do you do have a deathwish?”

He chuckles.

“You know most girls would take the compliment?”

“Of being called mythical monster?”

“No, of being called pretty.”  I didn’t. Petty or “beautiful” always seemed like an insult to me. My mother was always telling me how pretty I was if only I would make an affect or her and others would say it when something had gone wrong.  I knew I wasn’t ugly, but I didn’t really see why it matter either way. To me it was being clever (in some way) that mattered. I didn’t like this boy at all.

“Well, the girls you know ain’t that great.” I say sitting farer down the wall from him and begin to read again.

“So is there a reason why you’re walking around as though you’ve bite someone?” He asked after a while. I put my earphones in and put my music loud enough for him to hear also. He keeps talking. I ignored his words and his eyes for the rest of lunch.

I get up as soon as the bell rings. I have to walk past him to get to my next class. As I do so, he grabs me around my hips. I hit with the book and push him off. Didn’t he understand personal space? He pulls my earphones out.

“I said can tell me where Mrs Smiths’ room is.” It’s an acceptable question to ask if he’s new, which I realise he obviously is if he spends his lunch annoying strangers. I really don’t know anyone in school so I would have no clue.

“What’s the number?” I only knew the heads by their names, everyone else was room number and subject.

“113” he says not sounding smug for the first time. Damn that my classroom.

“Just play stalker,” I say as I turned around and leave him on the wall. He doesn’t follow me at first and then I hear his steps. Once he catches up with me, he starts asking stupid questions like what’s my name and I am seriously going to class like that. He informs me his name Alexander Laviat. Only then do I respond with

“Why should I care?” I say trying to make it clear that he’s wasting his time. He smiles at me.

“Because I’m a vampire hunter.” I’m tempted to hit him again, but I just roll my eyes. He probably piss himself if he ever meets a vampire. Trust me, I’ve met several. They’re never “nice” to mortals of any kind.  

I try to lose him in the correct hall and slip into Room 113 without him.

“Lila, what happened to your petty face?” Mrs History exclaims upon seeing me. I ignore her and go to my place in the back. She continues to fuss about the blood, but I just my shake head at her. Refusing to say a word, I’ve already said too many today.  She only stops when a confused, but somehow still smug Alexander wanders into the room. He sees me and smirks. Mrs History finally goes and fusses with him.

When he sits next to me, I kick him hard under the table so he knows his mistake. He just continues to smirk.

Books Sprees (Invadison of the Novels)

My arms are playing up again, I'm spitting pains in my back. I woke up twice and I really couldn't move my right arm, it was that numb. My fingers went bit odd after that, back to normal now.

So that my normal. I don't why but I've been thinking darker thoughts lately. Not as bad as this time last year. I'm not depressed before you start any of that nonsense. That was last year 2011, my darkest year yet. I blame the school system (I actually do partly, a lot). I think it probably me just subconscious reflecting on the situation.

 I've taken to reading three books a week, which if I continue with this trend and with my current books read number (of 64); I shall have read 97 books this year. Though, that's a bad number so I have to read at least one more so its even number.

I've recently been buying a lot of books, yes that number is actually 10 but that's a lot considering I have no money. I have used money meant for food. I haven't brought in any months. I guess when I buy books I do it in sprees. I did buy a book I've been meaning to get for years is of course "The Perks of being a Wallflower" I could probably do a joke blog with the same title. Maybe next week.

So yay, my room is getting invaded by books. There's a boxes everywhere of them, but then it been that way for months. I'm been moaning about a new bookcase, no clue where I would put it. I could just put it in the middle of the room. I'm probably going to reorganise my bookcase.

Oh by the way, I'm off for two weeks...so reading and stuff.... I might get something productive done. Might.
What do think of the idea of me dressing up as a alien for Halloween?

WTF Writing

Hello Lovies, I read "The Fry Chronicles" by the fantastic Mr Stephen Fry this week. Which somewhat explains why I've decided to dub my Hermes 305 (not a 301 like I said in previous post): Fry. Frankly, its doesn't deserves such a good name; rightfully it should be called Billy Bob or some rather boring like Steven. Why don't I dub it one of those, because even if I despise the damn thing, everything which I decided to name must be called something interesting or at least standable to me. I'm also on a mission to kill a cat called Steven (no clue why) therefore my typewriter can't share the same name.

I'm sick of my own life, therefore I'm back to the scheme of writing fiction for these rather than my actual life or some lame arse point.

The Horror of Writer Okay, not that.


My head hits the desk, in frustration I begin bang it repeatly as though the abuse will cause my brain to come up with the thing I demand of it.I stop and rub my now sore forehead. That didn't help at all. Really not that.

There was once a girl by the name of Rebecca. Now, Rebecca was hideously plain, not like that Jane who keeps saying she is while all the boys chase after her luscious lips and long smooth legs.Rebecca was slightly gay for Jane, but that couldn't be helped as Rebecca was slightly confused. Rebecca was looking forward to summer as she would no longer have to strip naked for gym with the other girls.  She shivered in...embarrassment.

Rebecca was not ugly, no just plain. Her features were neither pleasing or displeasing. Her best friend was sort-of-petty Anna, they had big plans for the summer. Those plans had been massive, but Anna had gain a boyfriend the month before summer ended. She now interested in kissing him (and not sleepover experiments) leaving poor Rebecca to her own devices somewhat. Rebecca had no hope to get a boy of her own, no matter what Anna said. Unless she became easy like Easy Ruth.

The last true school event was the big party that Easy Ruth was holding that everyone was inviting to. Rebecca and Anna are meant to be going with each other, though Rebecca was now worried she would end up sitting in the corner by herself while Anna did straight things with the boy. Anna showed up at Rebecca's house at 2 past seven while Rebecca was putting on a plain blue dress.

Anna sighed (inside) when she saw Rebecca. She didn't appeared to have made an effect, besides shaving her legs. She wore no make-up and her hair was straight as normal. They had this debet before, while Anna had began to wear make-up daily and wore a a skirt that was three and half inches above her knees. Her shirt hinted at her womenly figurer. Rebecca look at best the 50s worst five years old.

They left at past 10 and arrived at Easy Ruth's at 20 past. She was wearing a top as dress and large breast were shoved in Rebecca's face upon entering. If Rebecca hadn't a pair herself, she would have swore that Ruth was flirting with her. It must have just been teasing when she asked if Rebecca liked her perfume.

The house was full of teenage hormones and their carriers. The night started calm, until a game of spin the bottle was suggested after every teen's lips had made contract with alcohol. Rebecca didn't understand this game, it seem so easy to go wrong. She didn't want to play, but Anna made her. It would be a long game. A giant circle was formed, going girl boy girl since that apparently would make things more interesting.

It was a night full of homosexual and heterosexual experiences. Boys kissed boys, a boy kissed Rebecca, Rebecca kissed Easy Ruth whose hand had made contract with Rebecca's left tit. Rebecca watched nervously at first but the kissing began to blur. That was until Not Plain Jane's turn. She bent down to spin the bottle giving  an eyeful. The bottle seems to take forever to choose its next victim. It landed to Rebecca's right. Jane drunkly crawing her way across the circle, before fosting her tougue down Rebecca's thoat. She pushed her on to the boy she was meant to kiss.

Rebecca was no longer confused when it came to Jane. She was a horrible kisser, but her boyfriend was much better. Rebecca moved after that summer. Anna became close with Jane intimately. Easy Ruth got knocked up before running off her Social Studies teacher, Miss Rook.

THE END

I hope you wonder WTF did you just read, as much as I went WTF did I just write. So much filler, I don't have words.