♔ ƒυтυяє ηєυяσ-тяαυмα ѕυяgєση ♔ asked:


I’m writing this story, and I was wondering if I had a chance at publishing it. I know there are grammatical errors, and what not. My dad has published some books (and no, they aren’t self-published), and he would help me. Anyway, here’s part of my story.

I sat on the small bed in my prison room. There was no way I could sleep; no possible way. I could hear the screams of people being tortured. The days had gone on, and I had yet to even be hit. Maybe I was lucky, but I doubted that. No princess that’s lucky would be sitting in a small cell. My dad, the King, had been murdered, my oldest sisters was murdered, my mother had been sold as a slave, and my other sister had killed herself.
Of course, my older sister, Willow, had killed herself long before this horrible war had begun. Everyone knew she was depressed, and sending her off to marry a foreign prince must have been too much for her.
A man from the room next to me cleared his throat, signaling me over. Shakily, I stood up, pushing my long brunette braid back, and went over to the window. “Yes,” I whispered.
The old man grunted. “They’re sending someone for you. I believe it’s the Prince. You know the one. Dunno know why, though.”
I didn’t know either. Hell, I didn’t know anything. None of the guards ever spoke to me; not even when they brought in my one meal a day. “Thank you for the information.” I went back over to my bed, thinking about what the man had just said. Why would the ignorant, stupid, prince want me? I had nothing to offer him. I was as good as an orphan, and I didn’t have a penny to my name.
I heard the sound of military boots from the hallway. The large boots making a thud on the cold, stone floor. Keys jangled, and the door to my room was pushed open. A young man stood there in the doorframe. He couldn’t have been more than 17. “I-I’m Ares,” he mumbled, looking down at his shoes. I didn’t get up from my bed; I didn’t have the energy, but I was dying to know why he was here. “I came to get you; to bring you back to the palace. You probably want to pack up all your personal things now.”
I frowned. “First of all, Ares, I don’t take orders. Secondly, why should I go to your palace? Thirdly–”
“I’m very sorry, Calista-Jade, I didn’t mean to upset you. My father has arrangements for you there. I’m not sure why he wants you, really.”
“I never finished,” I growled. More than anything, I hated to be interrupted. “Seeing as though your army took most of my things, I only have a picture of my family. Did you know that they took my shoes and my coat? Also, don’t call me Calista-Jade. Call me CJ.”
Ares looked slightly horrified. “I told them not to take any of your stuff. You have been getting your three meals a day, right?”
“Too bad they didn’t listen to you. Do I look like I’ve been getting my three meals?” I half growled, half shouted, gesturing to my stick thin body. “I’ve been pretty damn lucky to get one.” I snatched my painting of my family from under the bed, “I’m ready, but I don’t have any shoes.” Normally, I would have toughed it out and had fun stomping through the mud. Today, though, I was in a rather contrary mood.
“Of course,” Ares said, picking me up off the ground and carrying me out. I didn’t want to be carried, and I tried to wiggle away, but his grip was too tight. Finally, we made it to the carriage that was waiting for us. “When we get to the house, you can shower. My mother picked out a nice gown for you to wear. Oh, and, please, don’t comment on my sister, okay?”
I covered my self with a blanket that was folded on the seat next to me. “What’s wrong with your sister?”
“She has some type of disease that makes her lose a lot of weight. It upsets her when people stare at her.”
Thanks for all the feedback so far. I just wanted to add something concerning the time. This book actually takes place thousands of years in the future, and we’ve lost most of out technology, but we still have lighting and running water.

Thanks

TIMOTHY SHAUN asked:


Fayn drew his bow to shoot the deer. She was beautiful, he thought, lovely in her wild, graceful way; her slender brown body, delicate legs, and erect head. So sad to kill such a lovely creation, perfectly crafted for speed and agility. Fayn let the arrow fly to the doe’s chest, and watched it hit her brown body, watched her sleek body fall to the leaf-strewn forest floor. He left the tree he was hiding behind to collect his kill. Before he picked it up to carry it to his encampment, he withdrew the arrow from the doe’s chest. Wrinkling his nose at the sickly-sweet smell of blood, he wiped the arrow on the dew-soaked grass and tucked it in to his quiver. He carried the carcass through the wood, following the landmarks; a small stream, a big oak tree, a falcon nest in a laurel, to his camp. His camp was a medium-sized clearing circled with aspen and rowan trees in which he had made a fire pit encircled with stones and cleared away fallen leaves. ‘Ah, home!’ He thought, rather cheerlessly. After setting the dead doe down he gathered wood to start a fire. He set the collection of branches inside the circle of stones then rubbed a scrap of steel and flint together till a spark caught the dry sticks and a fire blazed from the logs, bringing life to the once-dead pit.
He set to work skinning and gutting the deer, a gruesome process, not one he enjoyed doing. He skinned it first, and then removed the entrails, which was by far the worst part. He burned them in the fire, glad to get rid of the bloody mess. The meat portion of the deer he separated into strips with his knife and cooked for further days.
Fayn had lived in The Lonely Wood since he was about eleven years old. Beyond The Lonely Wood, he knew, was Dastek, a province of three in the continent Daem. He knew this, but he had not been to Dastek since The Fall five years ago, when he was eleven. Once in Daem each province had its own capital, its own king. In Tirian, the province above Dastek, the king was a greedy tyrant. As some men tend to be, he was not happy just ruling Tirian, he wanted Dastek and Sarinis. For years he had schemed and gathered an army; and after two years he found his chance to strike. He hit hard and fast in a troubling time, the Dastek and Sarinis army had no chance. The king of Tirian captured the nobles, and ruled the three provinces, three now one. Fayn had left with several others into the forest, for none wanted to live in the rule of the Tirian king.
Fayn lay in his makeshift bed pondering these things. Many nights he had wondered what became of his country, his family. Once he almost ventured past the forest, but changed his mind before he left it. Life was, to be short, boring-wake, eat, hunt, eat, and sleep. Fayn pulled his blanket over his body and drifted to sleep.

Seylen kicked her horse into a trot; he was a fine horse, a bay stallion of five. Seylen urged him into a canter down the gravel path behind The Palace that led through the dreary garden. Gray and black flowers sprouted from lifeless gray dust, the trees were leafless and deformed. Her father, King Tryen, seemed to enjoy the live deadness of it. Seylen had never understood her father. He was the ruler of Daem, and he had been the ruler of Tirian, but had been power-hungry and overtook the other two provinces.
Dude?man? sorry, but its rather funny.
YES I IMAGINED IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Taylor asked:


Chapter one- No right turns
Just as I finished packing the final plates and glasses to move there was a smash,coming from the basement two floors down. It was loud enough the neighbors heard and came running over. “It’s ok,I think it was your brother with his box,”my mother said,with a deep sigh she went back to the moving truck. This wasn’t the last time we moved. We moved four other times from my dad being in the army. I carried the large box outside,taking a look at the house and absorbing the detail. The last time I would see the place where I had my first kiss on December 5th.
We piled into the mini van. Dad in front with mom and me and Andrew in back. My favorite song came on by Eminem INSANE,but mom changed it,cussing under her breath and the first word started. “Mom!”I moaned reaching forward and twisting the nob.
“No,I **** Eminem he stinks Molly.” I looked at Andrew who was propped up with two pillows and sleeping with a blanket over his body. Then reached into his pocket and pulled out his cigarettes,”Mom,I’m pulling up the divider,”I said,and fumbled with the button pressed it all the way up so she couldn’t smell the smoke. I lit it carefully and stuck it into my mouth. My lungs filled with and and I coughed,my eyes turned wide and that’s when I knew those things are disgusting!
We arrived at 5444 Westbrook,Connecticut. It was a bashe house,with green shutters and a cracked window. That’s All I have so far. I’m 11

Sly asked:


As the blanket of darkness fell, the inhabitants of Camp Moloussi slowly made their way to their beds. The usually boisterous camp was suddenly silent. The rapid quiet was deafening to behold, due to the volume of traffic during the day. On the outskirts of the camp silhouetted against the moon, a lone figure sat. There was an air of sadness about the figure as if all life had been expelled. There still remained flickers of a once beautiful and carefree spirit, overcome now by grief and the battle of life etched on her face. As the oppressive heat began to take its toil the sudden sound of Frank Sinatra filled the air, “Though your far away, I have only to close my eyes and you are back to stay.”
Jessie Morgan sat at the edge of the camp on a termite infested trunk, her eyes closed, listening to the gentle sound of music, allowing it to fill her up, take her away. It was hard to find a place to sit in the camp that wasn’t infested by one living insect or another. Termites never did bother her, or any other creepy-crawlies for that matter; which was probably a good thing given her choice of career. She had spent the last 3 years in Africa having originally come from a small town in Missouri in the United States where she grew up with her father, her mother having died when she was twelve years old from a snake bite whilst out walking. Her mother loved the outdoors and Jessie had spent many happy times taking vacations with her which usually consisted of horseback riding, trekking in the mountains or exploring new uncharted territories. It was whilst on one of these famous trips into the unknown, her mother fell suspiciously ill. They were at the time, camping in Yellowstone national park. Just an average day she remembered, her mother walking in front of her, water bottle in place, stick in hand, her sudden complaint of a sting in her leg which unbeknown to her, the result of a bite. One week later, her mother was dead. Her leg had swollen so much she had become bed ridden, doctors from all over failed to diagnose the culprit and by the time they had stumbled on the answer her mother had died.
“You ok Jessie?”
The sudden interruption brought her back to the present. Her mother’s face disappeared into the shadows, the voice of Frank re-filling the air as the warm evening air brought a gentle chill with it.
Jessie rubbed her eyes lazily as she turned to face her unexpected but none the less very welcome guest. She smiled up at Jack as he began to sit astride the tree trunk clearly trying to get comfortable. She couldn’t help grinning as she watched him scratch his legs and nervously glance at the each individual knot of wood waiting for the army of termites to begin their march. She often wondered what on earth Jack was doing here in Moloussi, given his phobia to anything with more legs than himself.
“You ok??” he repeated when he was finally settled, holding out a beer bottle in one hand and a moth eaten cardigan in the other. “I’m fine, thanks for these” Jessie replied taking both gifts graciously.
“Another beautiful day in the Garden of Eden!” She quipped. “You?” she asked whilst wrapping the cardigan around her with one hand and taking a large slug of beer with the other, thankful for the coldness of the liquid inside.
“Come on Jess, it’s been a great day.” Jack replied. “Beautiful weather, no patients and loads of pictures and……..” He added “To top it off we have tomorrow off, what more do you want?”
“I don’t know” she sighed, shrugging her shoulders whilst rubbing her forehead with her bottle. The coldness of it sent tingles down her spine, a welcome relief to the oppressive heat.
“Don’t you ever grow tired of this?” she questioned. “Days and days of lions, tigers and …” “Bears!” Jack cut her off. “What?” she asked, a confused look crossing her face, new lines appearing on her forehead. “Lions, Tigers and bears” he giggled. “Dorothy Gale.” He continued to grin inanely at her as her frown deepened. “Over the rainbow, you ever see the Wizard of Oz Jess?” “Oh, yes I’ve seen it.” She sighed, her face breaking into a slow grin.
to sund answerer, hahaha i know, thats why he cuts her dead. hahaha everybody that read it said that!!

ohsnap asked:


what literary devices are these sentences from the book ‘The Glass Castle’?
1. “She had tied rags around her shoulders to keep our the spring chill and was picking through the trash while her dog, a black-and-white terrier mix, played at her feet.” (might be imagery?)
2.”Juju, our black mutt, was watching me.”
3. “I stabbed one of the hot dogs with a fork and bent over and offered it to him.”
4. “I smelled the burning and heard a horrible crackling as the fire singed my hair and eyelashes.”
5. “She threw the blanket around me to smother the flames.”
6. “They would put the used bandage off to the side, wadded and covered with smears of blood and yellow stuff and little pieces of burned skin.”
7. “I breathed in his familiar smell of Vitalis, whiskey, and cigarette smoke. It reminded me of home.”
8. “You’ve got to get right back in the saddle.”
9. “She already fought with fire once and won.”
10. “Suddenly, her eyes grew wide, as if with fear; I realized, to my horror, that her face was starting to melt.”
11.”Tinkerbells once perfect little nose had completely dissappeared, and her saucy red lips had been replaces with an ugly, lopsided smear.”
12.”Dad came home in the middle of the night a few months latert and roused all of us from bed.”
13. “He took the essentials-a big black cast-iron skillet and the Dutch oven, some army-surplus tin pates, a few knives, his pistol, and Mom’s archery set0 and packed them in the trunk of the Blue Goose.”
14. “Dad steered the Blue Goose through the dark, driving slowly so as not to alert anyone in the trailer park that we were, as Dad liked to put it, doing the skedaddle.”
15. “Tinkerbell can make it on her own.”
16. “Don’t be so sentimental”
17. “Dad called them henchmen, bloodsuckers, and the gestapo.”
18. We moved around like nomads.
19. “You no-good two-bit pud-sucking *******!”
20. “Then grandma would make a snide comment about Dad being shiftless.”

i don’t know if all of these are specific literary devices or rhetorical terms, but if you could help me out, it’d be greatly appreciated!
no, this is not my homework. it’s the middle of summer. i have 280 literary devices to do, i’ve completed most of them, these are just some i can’t quite put a finger on as to what literary device they are.. but thanks for your concern rosebud..

Emma asked:

It was a freezing cold night in the middle of winter. A strange little boy, around the age of ten, lay under his old blue blanket in the most scummy orphanage in the country. All the children in the orphanage were shivering but he was most of all . The little boys name was Thomas. Everyone called him Tomato though because his face was round and became as red as one when he was embarrassed, and that happened a lot. Thomas was small, clumsy and wasn’t talented at anything. Until one day when everything changed.

It was the morning after a big storm. Thomas sat on the side of his bed trying to tie his shoe laces when the old hag, who was running the orphanage at the time, stormed into his room. She looked angry. Very angry. And when she is angry it’s not good. “Who used my toothbrush to clean the toilet!” He turned to look at the small five or so year old sitting on the bed next to him finishing off her homework. Obviously the other girls in her room had pushed her out to do their make up but Johno, the boy with the bed across from him let her sit there. She was new. She turned her head up to him and a terrified look quickly slid onto her face and the black eye that she had received yesterday twitched. He quickly turned to Mrs. Brute, cleared his throat and trying to sound guilty said “It was me,…… Mrs. Brute.” Thomas closed his eyes and prepared for an onslaught of insults and an horrible punishment to be yelled and spat at his face. But after thirty seconds of clenching his eyes shut he started to wonder what was happening in the world outside of his mind and the back of his clenched eyelids. So he opened his eyes and saw that Gertrude Brute had a smirk on her face. She opened her mouth as if she was about to say something, then closed it again she finally said while pointing at him “Do you think that after twenty years of looking after you little brats, that I wouldn’t be able to tell when one of you was lying?”. He thought for a minute and replied in army style “No, Ma’am”. Then she turned and stared at the little girl, whose name Thomas now remembered as Lily. Lily closed her eyes and prepared for Gertrude’s spitting cry. But no, Mrs. Brute knelt close to Lily and whispered “If you, EVER, touch my toothbrush again,” then she stood up and yelled “If anyone, EVER, touches my toothbrush again. There will be consequences to pay!” And from that she stormed out of the shabby little room and into the palely painted corridor. And to no one’s surprise she went straight into her office to, as some say, have a large glass of sherry.

After that all the boys and girls of the orphanage headed down stairs to collect their lunch from the kind cook at the orphanage. Everyone loved her because she sometimes gave them chocolate chip cookies or boiled lollies. Today Thomas had a ham and pickle sandwich. He hated pickles. Sometimes he pretended he was allergic to them to get out of eating them. Luckily, Thomas had been saving up all the five and ten cent coins that he could get. And today, if he finally got ten cents more, he could buy a hot apple pie from Mac Donald’s on the way home. “Mmmm…..” he thought to himself, his stomach grumbling. As he made his way down the hill that separated the edge of town from the school grounds.

Lily had maths first. She hated maths. Luckily today she had done her homework and was in a slightly better mood because one of the kind older boys had stood up for her when she had used Mrs. Brute’s (or Mrs. Grouch as she liked to call her) toothbrush on her toilet cleaning duties. Ever since that one night when her mother bundled her in clothes and dropped poor Lily on the doorstep of that awful place Mrs. Grouch calls Swindle Orphanage Lily’s life had been horrid. She had been picked on (by students, teachers, and Mrs Grouch), had items stolen from her (including her favourite flower watch her father gave her) and she had been punched up twice at least by the school bully each week. She hoped today would be better than the last. A shiver crawled up her spine at the thought of it.

The end of the day came at last and Lily was making her way back up the hill that led to the place she called home. It was a Thursday and so that meant Mrs. Grouch was in town getting her nails done (though no one could tell the difference before and after). So she went on a detour through the park.

Meanwhile Thomas had endured a horrible day of Science, English, Maths and L.O.T.E. It was the worst day of the week. Thursday. The only good part about it was the fact that he didn’t have to rush home because Mrs. Brute was getting her nails done. So he took a detour to Mac Donalds and got his apple pie before going for his usual detour through the park to look for new leaf buds that showed spring was on the way. He walked around the centre garden circle and in through his hole in the rose bushes that were so thick that even in the winter he couldn’t be seen inside. Some of the vines had grown over the insi
I really need help!?! It’s not finished I made the storyline far to long for this school writing project. Help me cut it down and think of a title.

Wisdom asked:

This is chapter 2. If you havent read chapter 1 then go to my profile and see my questions and read chapter 1 first.

Chapter 2
The Beginning of the end

I was silent in the car while mom and Karly talked about something stupid and girly. All I could think about was how stupid this was going to be. I didn’t want some sissy to be in my room toughing stuff.
We got home just in time for dinner. My dad was cooking steak. Karly sat herself in my seat. I wasn’t going to have that.
“Get up Blondie. That’s my seat.” I said
“Oh sorry.” Se said and got up and sat down in the seat next to me.
“Hello Karly.” My dad said.
“Hello.” She said back
My dad nodded his head and patted my back. He was putting the steaks on the good plates. He only put food on the good plates when we had guests.
“Martha dinner wont be ready for about 10 more minuets why don’t you go show Karly your room while you wait.” My mom said.
“I would rather eat dog crap.” I said under my breath as I took Karly to my room.
“This is small.” She said when we were in there.
“Small! This is the biggest room in the house you dumb rabbit!”
“Sorry but I am use to having a large house. This room isn’t even big enough for my Dog.”
I was about ready to punch her when my mom called us for dinner. She had been saved for the first and last time.
At dinner everyone talked about stupid stuff, like normal. I picked at my food. I could care less about eating. I was about to spend a night with miss Blondie.
“Please pass the beans Martha.” My mom said.
I picked up the blue bowl full of beans and passed them to mom.
“Thank you.”
“Whatever.” I mumbled.
The hold dinner was horrible. Karly kept talking about how she came in first in a dance competition last year and how she’s entering this year. She kept talking about it and how good she was and blah blah blah! I hated her. I couldn’t stand her at all. She was to… well not like me. She was so girly the color pink screamed.
“Sweetie you’ve barely touched your dinner.” My mom said.
“And?”
“Aren’t you hungry?”
“No.”
“You should eat something.” Karly said.
“No I shouldn’t, you don’t know anything.”
“Damn it girl don’t talk to her that way!” My Dad snapped.
“Geoffrey don’t yell at her.” My mom said.
“Damn it women I am a man I can do what I want!” My Dad said and walked off to his room.
“I think you girls should set up your stuff out here tonight.” My Mom said choking down the last bite of steak.
“Yes mama.”
Karly and I soon set up are blankets and pillows on the couches. I didn’t even look at her. Down the hall I could here my parents fighting. I couldn’t make out what they were saying but I knew it was about me and Karly. I tried to piece together what they were saying but all I could hear where mixed up words. Sometimes I could make out the word **** or damn but not much more.
I turned my attention towards Karly. She had brought everything pink. She had a pink pillow, blanket, and even pajamas. I shook my head and went on my own busyness. I put my army sheets over the couch and my black pillow on top. Karly eyed the couch and went back to hers.
“Why are your parents mad at each other? They should be mad at you.%

edynasty05 asked:

Hi, I’d like to ask for your opinion(s) on this book.

I can provide the excerpt (I got it off a website, lol)

Could you please provide your opinion on the grammar and storyline?

Thank you everyone.

Here’s the excerpt:

The Floraad Conflict

The pale moon glowed ominously in the night sky, as the dark clouds rumbled and thundered, radiating a surge of intensity and suspense surrounding the two armies that currently battled.

“Go, my comrades!” shouted a winged lieutenant. “Fight those beasts and show them no mercy!”

A horn of warfare sounded and a wave of angelical beings charged down the battlefield towards their horrific foes.

The army of Floraad, a city of feminine fairies and masculine angels, clashed with their grotesque enemies on the side of the Arborhex, a kingdom of faceless botanical creatures known as Botonians.

Several Floraad soldiers dashed into the dark sky, as the wooden beasts of the opposing side jumped several yards into the air, causing many aerial battles before the ground battles could even begin. The two sides attacked and blasted their enemies with their weapons and magical energies.

Floraad’s general appeared at the top of a high cliff. The Angelic with long silver hair tied into a ponytail and gleaming amethyst armor, stared out onto the dark battlefield, where the only light came from the conflagrating blazes that burned down fairy homes. He did not know why the Botonians used flames, for their bodies were vulnerable to fire, but he knew they would do anything to conquer the fairy city. His feathered wings unfolded and his luminous body jumped off the cliff. He opened his wings to full span and glided down to join his comrades in battle. He gashed a Botonian’s face, upon landing, with his graceful sword.

As the injured and shrieking beast gripped its face with its ligneous arm, the Angelic grabbed the creature’s head, and blasted a ball of emerald energy. The monstrous head burned into dark ashes, as the body fell motionlessly to the ground. The general drew out his dagger and jammed it directly into the creature’s heart, stopping its beating rhythm and preventing the head from regenerating. Many of the other Angelics charged and sliced their enemies, while the Arborhex’s army did likewise. When the angelical general looked around, only sorrow and death caught his eyes. Gangs of wooden beasts engulfed several of his soldiers. One Angelic managed to escape through flight, but a violent bolt struck him down. The general raced towards his fallen comrade and attempted to rescue him, but failed, for the injured body fell to its demise. The devastated Angelic clenched his teeth in anger, as a group of the Arborhex’s creatures spotted him. They blasted beams of violet bolts at the airborne general, who powerfully countered with a stream of green flames. When the two rays of magic struck, a low and thunderous crash roared. Many of the combatants ceased fighting and stared at the deadlock. The general could feel his body shaking, as his altitude decreased.

“I will not be beaten by mere wooden puppets!” he yelled.

He pushed forward and his flames forced the opposing stream back. The losing Botonians snarled, as more of their comrades gathered, to add to the losing bolts. The general held on tight and shoved more power into his flames, while his soldiers aided him by merging their energy with his.

Suddenly, the struggle between the two sides concluded in a draw, when both groups shoved high amounts of energy into the deadlock, blasting the ligneous beasts and their foes back. Many of the Angelics remained airborne, while many others, along with their enemies, landed roughly upon the battlefield. When a wounded Floraad soldier saw more of his botanical enemies pouring continuously from the horizon, he searched for his general and shouted, “There’s too many of them!” The general sliced a wooden beast in two and commanded with a vociferous voice, “Surround Shae Palace, and protect our queen!”

The surviving soldiers formed an enormous circle around the marble structure, as the general made his way in. Upon entering, the general could see a ceiling of clear glass, where the moon shone its light upon the queen, making her overwhelmingly majestic. Green lights lit marble walls, where the engraved names of past Angelic kings and Fairy queens showed. In the center of the circular room stood a giant table blanketed by an enormous map. The queen stood before the table of strategies, her hair bundled up into a silver gray ball, with a diamond tiara sitting at the front edge of her head. Her silk dress hung down to the floor and a purple silk scarf wrapped her aged neck, where jewels of value clung. A pair of emerald butterfly wings sprouted from her back. Her almond-shaped eyes glanced up at the approaching soldier. The general bowed on a single knee. “My queen, they have surrounded and out-numbered us.” He stood. “My men are trying to hold them back.”

“No
Sorry about the cut off.

There’s more, at this link: https://secure.advbookstore.com/?page=shop/detail&product_id=214
I did right this.

I have another question.

What should I do if someone gave me a terrible book review?

Here’s the review that I recently read.

http://www.target.com/Arborhex-Nguyen-David-H/dp/1597551813

Oh my god, lol.

I wrote “I did right this.”
I meant “I did wrtie this.”

Sorry everyone.
Oh my god, lol.

I wrote “I did right this.”
I meant “I did write this.”

Sorry everyone.

The Knight Reject asked:

Young Thompson Davis was lying in his little bed with the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles sheets pulled midway up his chest. His mother had just tucked him in and left. Now the room was quiet, still, dark, and scary to the five-year-old. There was very little illumination in the room aside from the multicolored night-light. Thompson looked at it as it cycled its colors; blue, red, yellow, green, purple, teal, and back to blue.

Looking at the light made him feel safer. If anything came from his closet he would see it and scream. Either the boogeyman would flee when it knew his parents were coming, or it would get beaten up by his father. Yes, surely his dad could drive away the mean creature of the closet.

He hadn’t known about the boogeyman until today. A kid in his kindergarten class told him about the monster that kidnapped children when they were in bed. Charlie, the boy who had told him, said the boogeyman came from the closet at night. Terrified, Thompson had told his dad about the boogeyman. His brave father opened the closet, Thompson had been in tears, afraid his father would get ****** into the closet and disappear forever.

When nothing happened, his father had beckoned him closer. The closet was empty, aside from clothing and toys. But Charlie had said the boogeyman only came out during the night. Perhaps he teleported from wherever he came from and took the children back with him. Yes, that had to be it.

So Thompson was going to stay up all night and watch for the boogeyman. He had put his army of GI Joe soldiers in front of the door. Perhaps the boogeyman’s portal would bring them to life and they would defend him.

It had barely reached nine when Thompson’s eyes drooped under the weight of sleepiness. He was close to falling asleep, his own soft breathing was a comfort. His bed was comfortable, blanket warm and cozy. He could feel slumber overcome him.

His eyes snapped open. Movement of the closet door hadn’t alerted him, nor was the sound of gunfire from the miniature army that aroused him. It was a breeze behind him. Had his mom forgotten to close the window? That didn’t seem like her. But then again the window wasn’t above the bed so it could be that. He turned thinking it might just be a dream.

When he saw what had caused the draft he prayed he was dreaming. His eyes landed on the face of a pale man. Both eyes were missing, into which was an inky blackness that reminded him of the night sky, never-ending. A live worm dangled from his half open mouth, wriggling and squirming. No teeth seemed to be in the man’s mouth, or perhaps they were so rotten he just couldn’t see them.

A smell reached his nose. So putrid it turned Thompson’s stomach, threatening to send up the corn dogs and macaroni and cheese he had eaten for dinner. It reminded him of the smell his hands had after touching a fish he caught with his dad last weekend, only a thousand times worse.

A hand, cold and clammy slammed fiercely over his mouth muffling the scream he made in an attempt to alarm his parents. They were on the other end of the hall, the noise did not reach them. He attempted to lift the hand cupped over his mouth, but it would not be moved. Tears of fear poured down the young boy’s face. He froze when something crawled from a hole of the man’s eye. A snake, almost as dark as the night, slithered from one eye socket, taking only a brief second to look at the boy, and into the other eye. A trail of urine ran down Thompson’s leg. He tried to bite, claw, do something, anything to get free, but it all proved pointless against the boogeyman. He was too strong for the five-year-old to compete with.

The other hand, just as cold and slimy as the one clasped over his mouth, hooked around his body and dragged him for his bed into darkness.

Wisdom asked:

This is chapter 2. If you havent read chapter 1 then go to my profile and see my questions and read chapter 1 first.

Chapter 2
The Beginning of the end

I was silent in the car while mom and Karly talked about something stupid and girly. All I could think about was how stupid this was going to be. I didn’t want some sissy to be in my room toughing stuff.
We got home just in time for dinner. My dad was cooking steak. Karly sat herself in my seat. I wasn’t going to have that.
“Get up Blondie. That’s my seat.” I said
“Oh sorry.” Se said and got up and sat down in the seat next to me.
“Hello Karly.” My dad said.
“Hello.” She said back
My dad nodded his head and patted my back. He was putting the steaks on the good plates. He only put food on the good plates when we had guests.
“Martha dinner wont be ready for about 10 more minuets why don’t you go show Karly your room while you wait.” My mom said.
“I would rather eat dog crap.” I said under my breath as I took Karly to my room.
“This is small.” She said when we were in there.
“Small! This is the biggest room in the house you dumb rabbit!”
“Sorry but I am use to having a large house. This room isn’t even big enough for my Dog.”
I was about ready to punch her when my mom called us for dinner. She had been saved for the first and last time.
At dinner everyone talked about stupid stuff, like normal. I picked at my food. I could care less about eating. I was about to spend a night with miss Blondie.
“Please pass the beans Martha.” My mom said.
I picked up the blue bowl full of beans and passed them to mom.
“Thank you.”
“Whatever.” I mumbled.
The hold dinner was horrible. Karly kept talking about how she came in first in a dance competition last year and how she’s entering this year. She kept talking about it and how good she was and blah blah blah! I hated her. I couldn’t stand her at all. She was to… well not like me. She was so girly the color pink screamed.
“Sweetie you’ve barely touched your dinner.” My mom said.
“And?”
“Aren’t you hungry?”
“No.”
“You should eat something.” Karly said.
“No I shouldn’t, you don’t know anything.”
“Damn it girl don’t talk to her that way!” My Dad snapped.
“Geoffrey don’t yell at her.” My mom said.
“Damn it women I am a man I can do what I want!” My Dad said and walked off to his room.
“I think you girls should set up your stuff out here tonight.” My Mom said choking down the last bite of steak.
“Yes mama.”
Karly and I soon set up are blankets and pillows on the couches. I didn’t even look at her. Down the hall I could here my parents fighting. I couldn’t make out what they were saying but I knew it was about me and Karly. I tried to piece together what they were saying but all I could hear where mixed up words. Sometimes I could make out the word **** or damn but not much more.
I turned my attention towards Karly. She had brought everything pink. She had a pink pillow, blanket, and even pajamas. I shook my head and went on my own busyness. I put my army sheets over the couch and my black pillow on top. Karly eyed the couch and went back to hers.
“Why are your parents mad at each other? They should be mad at you.”
“Why should they be mad at me?”
“Because you started the fight. If you had been nice they wouldn’t be fighting!”
“That’s not true!”
“Yes it is!”
Do you remember when I had said she had been saved for the first and last time. Well she had gotten me so mad I flung myself at her. I pulled her down to the ground and pulled her hair. I was angry. She had crossed the line. I through myself at her over and over. I slammed her into the wall.
My parents raced out of there room. My father held me back. I tried to bite him away. My feet were flying.
“WHATS GOING ON!” My Dad barked.
“Let me go! I have to kill her!” I screeched
Karly’s nose was bleeding. She was balling her eyes out. I cant remember what happened next. The next thing I knew we were on the couches and my parents were gone.
Apparently my father had talked to me. I had A.D.D. So had spaced out through the hole thing
“Sorry.” I whispered.
“You should be.”
“Oh would you just shut up. Stop trying to make me feel guilty.”
“Well then.”
“I hope you know that I’m not a bad person.”
“Yes you are. You attacked me.”
“That doesn’t make me a bad person. At least I don’t wear pink all the time and act like a sissy!”
“Do you honestly think I like wearing pink all the time. My dad makes me!”
“What are you talking about Blondie?”
“I’m more like you then you think. My dad wants me to act like this. I wouldn’t have picked this if I had a chose.”
“Then why don’t you just say something to him.”
“I don’t want to disappoint him. He has always dreamed of having a girl. He has 4 other children. Older then me. And there all boys.”
“Well just tell him th