Fake Sucides Will Get You Expelled

Mon, 09 Apr 2007 19:53:55 GMT

Hey, I've decided to turn my writing to friends only. I'll leave the first chapter of things up, but that's it. And I'll leave new posts up for a period of 2 weeks, then it goes to friends only. If by some odd chance you stumble upon this and want to read more, you have to friend me.

Mon, 06 Nov 2006 01:40:02 GMT

Title: Random Insight
Description: It's nothing important, just more like a dairy entry. I wrote it in a letter to a friend.

I've thought about... about what you would see if you could see through me. And there's no realist in me. Everything about me is a dream. Sure, I've changed and I'm subject to change but there's certain things about people that are the basics. And for me, deep down all I am is hope, all I am is believing in the kindness of others. All I am is an ongoing story: I'm a writer because I couldn't draw those stories. I have elaborate characters and places that are as real to me as anything else. I lived in my mind because I couldn't handle that the world wasn't as nice as I was, as I am. So I guess that's where the realist came in. But that's not who I really am.
I don't know how you see me, I'm not entirely sure if I care how you see me. But I was sitting outside and reading and I realized that I've warped how I see myself. I tried to make myself stronger than what I was, but all I did was weaken myself. If other people can see the tolerance that I have, then why do I myself deny it? There aren't many people like me who see the world as pure magic, see every life as something to charish and every moment as something to live fully. So I stopped being that person to fit in, I became something I wasn't. I lived in my head and I stopped caring because that was easier than facing all the things I didn't want to face.
That's what you'd see if you really looked at me, that's probably what you already see.

Sat, 09 Sep 2006 00:48:29 GMT

Hey, Look! You know you wanna submit your art work and writing stuffies to my high school's art magazine! you can read mores about it here!!: http://profile.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=user.viewprofile&friendid=103580168&MyToken=cc8b89b7-038c-401d-8f25-d3714b6b31d8

Wed, 26 Jul 2006 19:28:07 GMT

Title: If I Could Change the World... I would get Shot.
Chapter: One- Fake Sucides Will Get You Expelled
Summary: Artemis de Fey is a crazy free spirit who believes in justice for all, or something to that extent. In this story, she battles bullies to help out the less socially inclined.
Author's Notes: Here's one of the first stories that I ever featured Artemis de Fey in. She has long since changed and became completely different, but since a few of my friends really liked this one, I've decided to resume it. Also, if you've think you've seen this before, you probably have. It's been on Quizzilla until recently and is still on devaintart.

I should probably be shot for my insanity.

So what’s the newest thing to be added to the dumb things Artis do? Well, standing on the edge of the roof of our school’s four story building, that’s what. This just might take the cake on the insanity level. Oh, and guess what? I have a fear of heights! Ha, isn’t that a knee-slapper? But I, Artemis de Fey—aka, Artis—am trying to prove something. But the four story drop below has caused me to momentarily forget just what.

Now, look. I know what you’re thinking, and you’re wrong. I’m not trying to take my life, nor will I ever do that. Then again, if this doesn’t work out just right, I might as well be dead.

I looked over to the seven other kids standing on the edge with me, and wish I told them I was joking. I didn’t think they would take me seriously when I said we should scare our friend out of committing suicide by faking our own. I didn’t think they would seriously get bungee cords and plan a date to jump off the roof scaring the shit out of the populace below.

When we pulled this off—if we pulled this off—there was going to be a ton of explaining to do. I really should have told them I was joking. Don’t get me wrong, I want to make sure my friend is so scared she decides taking her life isn’t worth it, but I really don’t want to get expelled. And I really don’t want to jump. Is there no way out of this one?

Mike picks up his megaphone and calls to the crowd below, “We eight have decided that life is simply not worth living.” He had wanted me to make the announcement, but I refused with a lame excuse along the lines of “You’re voice is louder.”

As we lean forward and begin falling while people below scream, I am suddenly remind of occults.

Great job, Artis, you’ve created a bloody occult. Pray to God that administration will understand.

I’m sitting in the Principal’s office as she screams at all eight of us. I had drowned her out at, “That was the dumbest thing ever!” which, may I add, was the first thing out of her mouth. I tuned in every one in a while to see if we’ve been expelled or not.

“I’m mostly surprised at you, Ms. De Fey. You’re such a promising student! Why would you allow yourself to be talked into this nonsense?!”

Ew, what a misconception. I have to correct this lady.

“Mrs. Z, look, ‘twas my idea, okay? A friend of ours was thinking of suicide, so we decided to show her just how uncool the idea is. I’m sure her, as well as the rest of the student body got the message.”

Mrs. Z started at me as though I had two heads. “That was the dumbest thing ever!” How many times did she have to say that? Honestly. “Why didn’t you just contact guidance?”

“We tried that, Mrs. Z. She fooled Mr. Davis. He said there was nothing wrong with her. Don’t’ look so shocked, it’s not that hard to lie to a councilor.”

“Would it have been better if we waited for April Fool’s Day?” Mike asked to take some of the tension off of me. Mrs. Z nearly had a heart attack.

“You should all be expelled!” She boomed. We each winced and I saw the others start to get scared. This was an awesome art school and we were each here for our talents as well as our brains, and we had to audition to get it. Which means that we each wanted to be here and there was no way in hell we wanted to get kicked out. To most of my friends, the school was their ticket to break free from broken lives. My parents were rich, and if I got kicked out they would just place me in some other school. But my friends in the office with me didn’t have that choice.

“Mrs. Z, please don’t expel them. This was my idea, and I planned the whole thing. They didn’t want to do it. I talked them into it. If anyone should be expelled it should be me.” There I go being a martyr.

And that, my friends, was how I was expelled from my dream school and sent to Falding Academy on the other side of the state. It was this fancy prep (remember, my parents are rich and they’re friends with the headmaster) boarding school that bragged about being the best—which, don’t get me wrong, it is a good school—but it was filled with the snobbiest can’t—even—set—the—table—kids. A sharp contrast from the crazy, open, art school I had just been expelled from. This was going to be a loooong year. And boy, are they going to be shocked when they meet me!

FanFic

Tue, 25 Jul 2006 18:47:36 GMT

Title: Conventional Love
Chapter: One- The Masquerade Ball
Summary: Rae is your average college student who has a slight interest in all things Japanese, but it wasn't until a friend introduced her to the music of Miyavi that her interest peaked. Never would she have guesse to meet him at an Anime Convention.
Author's Notes: Rae is my own character. Faye is a character borrowed from my friend Dale. Miyavi is a his own person, I doubt anyone owns him. I've never written a fanfiction before [though I've had ideas for them. Mostly Harry Potter ones that I never plan on showing], but I have a new respect for those who write fics... they're kind of hard. Anyways, I hope you like. And if you see any mistakes or something, please let me know.

Prologue:

I’ve been interested in Japanese culture [any culture, really] for a really long time, but it wasn’t until the end of the sixth grade that was I introduced to Anime by my friend Faye. I had watched the shows before, but I never really knew that they were Anime. And then there was the added bonus of manga. Since that time, I’ve gone in and out of obsession—or at least as obsessed as I allowed myself to be, which really isn’t very obsessive. I’ve never researched voice actors or went out of my way to download J-Pop and Rock. I held on to information that friends gave me and I knew who Dir En Grey and Utada Hikaru were. I’ve seen Arjuna, Akira, Spirited Away, Howl’s Moving Castle and countless ofhter anime, I have manga and I’ve downloaded scanlations of ones unreleased in the States. And I have music that Faye sent me on my iPod, but that’s seriously a far as it goes—until another friend introduced me to the music of Miyavi.

And here’s where I allowed myself to be more obsessive—how could I not? The guy is beautiful. I searched fir downloads on LiveJournal as well as pictures and when I had time—information on him. But I just finished my freshman year of college, and until now, I didn’t have a whole lot of time to be obsessive and anyway, it’s really not in my nature. Even so, I find myself attempting to learn Japanese so I’ll be able to understand what he says on YouTube clips. And me doing that is really saying something about fandom of him. But I never expected in my life that…

Chapter One :: Masquerade Ball

Blue light flooded my room as the stereo turned on playing Miyavi’s Jibun Kakumei. I moaned slightly and rolled off my bed with a “thump.” “Owwe…” I muttered at made my way to the bathroom. School had ended only a week ago, but I was already in the notion of sleep late and 7:30 being particularly early for me, I had to take a long hot shower to finally wake me up. I then got dressed and double checked the apartment to see if I had forgotten anything, and did some very last minute packing.

I was excited because I was going to see Faye after a year of only talking on the phone and through emails. The plan was the meet at the hotel and then proceed to the three day Anime Convention that was being held two and half hours away from me. I felt bad for her, because she went to college in another state and had to make a three day drive over to meet me. But it was her choice, I would have gladly picked her up at the airport on the way to the hotel.

After leaving a note for my roommate Annie, I grabbed my keys, the directions to the hotel and a mixed CD Annie had made for me and headed down to my car. I popped in the CD and was pleased to here a mix of Anime Music, Miyavi and regular old rock. I made a quick stop to Starbucks and then was on my way to the hotel.

Around 1 o’clock, I pulled up to the hotel where I was to stay with Faye and called to ask if she had gotten there yet. I found out that she was in the lobby and so I unpacked my car and headed in. I was promptly glomped by her and we both fell to the floor laughing. It must have looked so strange to the other people in the lobby to see to young adults acting like children.

“OMG, man! It’s been so long! You look really great, Rae. Did you lose some weight?” Faye asked me while poking my stomach.

I laughed, “Thanks. I think it’s due to the life of a college student. You’re looking well too.”

Faye nodded and we checked in. On our way to the hotel room we got into the topic of school, finals, family and old memories.

“Hey, which bed do you want?” I asked her as we walked into the room.

“Ah… I don’t really care.” She put down her luggage on one of the beds, and I took the other one. “Hey, I’m hungry. Want to go eat before we head over to the convention center?”

“Hmm… Yeah, I’m pretty hungry myself.” I grabbed my purse and we headed down to my car talking about where we should eat. At last we settle on a nice little sushi restaurant in light of the occasion. We talked and giggled as we looked around and saw other convention goers who had the same idea as us. We pointed out the cosplayers that we liked best and named each of there characters. Or well, Faye named most of there characters. She always seemed to know the more popular characters while I knew a few of them, I was more into distinguishing the less known characters from less popular animations.

Finally, we made our way to the convention center to check in and receive our passes. We had just missed the opening ceremonies so we decided on going to the vending room to buy discounted manga. Faye then walked over to look at the DVD and Music section while I looked at some really adorable hats. Then we met each other again at the kimono table. While we were there, we over heard a group of girls talking next to us.

“Did you hear about the mysterious guest who’s going to be at the Masquerade Ball tonight?” one girl chatted excitedly.

“No, not really,” said another.

“I hear they got a Japanese Actor to show up!” someone else said.

“No! I heard it was a J-Rocker and he’s going to perform,” said the first.

“Oh?! I hope it’s Gacht then!”

“Me too!” and then they walked away.

“Hmm… Convention rumors… fun,” I said once they were out of sight.

“Wouldn’t that be something though? I mean, it’d be downright amazing. Especially if it’s Gacht.”

“Yeah, ‘cause then you can finally profess your undying love for him at last!”

“Yeah, me and just about every other girl here.”

I nodded. We looked around a little long, saw a few of the attractions, took some pictures with the cosplayers and then headed out to eat dinner. After that, we returned to our hotel room where we got ready for the Masquerade Ball.

I had planned my costume for the dance since it was first decided that Faye and I would be going. I went out a bought a pretty black dress and some supplies. Annie, who is an art major, helped me in making a pair of small black wings and a mask of black feathers. I after dressing and putting on a pair of black knee high boots, I proceed to put my hair up, letting a few curls fall here and there. I added some glitter and lip gloss and I was done. I looked at Faye and laughed, “You look hideous!”

“That’s so mean!” she cried, “Do I really?”

“No, I’m just joking. You look really pretty. The outfit goes really nicely with your red hair.”

“Hmm… I guess. Thanks.”

I smiled and looked at her again. She was dressed in a red flowing dress with her hair lose and flowing over her shoulders. A gold glittery mask hid her face, and gold glitter made her face sparkler.

“Shall we?” I asked holding an arm out for her. She took my arm and returned to the convention center just in time for the beginning of the dance. The room was brilliantly decorated in a fairytale ball dance style that had me coming on with new daydreams. I’m a writer, you see, and such settings as these really inspire stories to dance around in my mind. There was an opening skit where a group of knights came up on the stage proclaiming that they prince had been lost, and that we should all be on the look around for him. I smiled and laughed with Faye as we drooled over the concept of a prince lost amongst us. After a few minutes one of the knights came up to her and asked her to dance. She looked at me as though asking for permission and I told her to go ahead. I wanted the time to think to daydream anyway.

I was so engrossed in my daydreams that I failed to realize that a tall man now stood in front of me. He was dressed in costume of a European Military man… Or a prince with white gloves and a white mask. I blushed and smiled while attempting a clumsy curtsy. He laughed and offered me his hand in a gesture of asking me to dance. I blushed deeper and accepted.

He didn’t say anything, though I don’t believe he really had to. I felt like I was floating on a cloud. I mean, how could this night get any better? I was at a fairytale ball dancing with a stranger dressed as a prince. And even though his mask covered everything except his eyes and mouth, I could tell that he was really pretty. And the lip ring on the right side of his mouth intrigued me. I often thought of getting a lip ring, but never believed I would actually go through with it.

We dance for the rest of the night in silence. At one point, I tired to talk to him by telling him my name. But all he did was smile, and that was encouraging, but disappointing since I was really hoping to learn his name.

The end of the night was closing in on us as the storyline of the Ball reached its climax. The prince’s knights had been walking around searching for him and acting out little skits throughout the night. At last, the knight who was dancing with Faye jumped on stage and pointed into the crowed.

“At last, I have gained word of where the Prince is. And there he be!” he exclaimed and pointed into the crowed. Everyone looked about themselves until their eyes at last fixed on me. I stared in confusion as the knights marched over and bowed in circle around my partner and I. I then turned and looked at him. He laughed and then removed his mask.

I stepped back in disbelief as all the girls in the room cried out in astonishment, “Miyavi!”

The knight on the stage then continued,” Please welcome this year’s Masquerade Ball’s Prince and quest star, Miyavi!”

Miyavi removed his white gloves which has concealed his tattoos and bowed to me, then walked with his knights to the stage. Someone handed him a guitar and he began to perform, but I couldn’t really pay attention because I was still in shock:

I just danced the night away with Miyavi!

Faye grabbed a hold of my arm and started to drag me away. When I started to protest she said to me, “Just snap out of it and look around you.” I blinked at her confused and then realized there were girls glaring at me and whispering to each other. As we walked past, I caught snippets of their conversations:

“Who is that girl?”

“Do you think she knows Miyavi?”

“Why else do you think he dance with her all night?”

“Maybe she’s part of the staff and this was all planned?”

“I don’t think so. They didn’t announce her as staff or anything.”

“She’s so luck! She got to dance with Miyavi all night!”

“That’s no fair! Miyavi should have danced with all of us.”

“I bet you she doesn’t even know who Miyavi is! Or if she does, she doesn’t know much about him!”

“I want to dance with Miyavi…”

“Why would he dance with her? She’s not even that pretty.”

I blushed deeply and hurried out of there with Faye. In all the shock, I had forgotten that I was at a convention and therefore there where true fangirls amongst us.

It wasn’t until we were in the elevator of the hotel that I turned to Faye and exclaimed, “What just happened back there? I mean, did that really happen?”

Faye laughed and pinched me, “Yes, you really dance the night away with Miyavi, you lucky duck. But be careful, those fangirls looked really pissed off that you did.”

“I smiled slightly, still feeling like I was floating in a dream. “I didn’t know it was him! He had a mask on and gloves and long sleeves and a high collar. There was nothing that distinguished him as Miyavi expect for the lip ring, and God knows how many guys have lip rings!”

“Yeah, I know. Just be glad you weren’t dancing with Gacht, or I’d have to kill you myself,” she giggled as she stepped into our hotel.

I sighed and got ready to go to bed. “Who was the knight you were dancing with?”

“Duh, he works with the staff, man. He was really nice though.”

“Did you catch his name?”

“Yeah… It’s Brian. He’s going to be in the Human Anime Chessmatch tomorrow.”

“Nice,” I yawned and turned over, trying to go to bed. But I kept playing the night over and over again in my mind. “Did I really dance with Miyavi?” I asked for the billionth time.

Faye groaned and threw a pillow at me, “Yes!”

I sat there laying for a little longer before I suddenly sat up and shrieked, “I DANCE WITH MIYAVI!! I WAS TOUCHING MIYAVI!! OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD!” It had finally sunk in and I just didn’t know what to do. I had all this nervous energy inside of me and I didn’t know what to do about it.

“For Peanut’s sake!” Faye exclaimed, “I had finally gotten to sleep. I swear you just woke up the whole flipping hotel. It is 4 flipping o’clock in the morning, I hope you know!” She then rolled over and went back to sleep. I blushed deeply and tried to do the same, but I just couldn’t. I had just danced with Miyavi… and now I was being a fangirl about it.

Thu, 13 Jul 2006 04:44:44 GMT

My new obsession with Miyavi makes me want to write a Fanfic, only I need to learn A LOT more about him before I do that. *starts searching the interenet.*

But rest assure, even if I don't write a fanfic I'm forseeing a Japanese vampire character in the future... O_O;

*feels horribly lame, but goes on anyway*

Thu, 13 Jul 2006 04:32:59 GMT

Hehe, I got a Miyavi icon from Llama-sama. :]

Not that anyone reads these, but I'll try to update soonishness?

Mon, 10 Jul 2006 23:33:31 GMT

Title: N/A
Chapter: One--A Stange Day
Summary: Jane Jonson (or Lyric, as she's nicknamed) isn't from the best of neighborhoods. She's been excepted into a performing arts school in the city that might just help her out there. Soon she'll be discovered and have an uprising singing career, but before that happens she gets pushed in front of oncoming traffic. But that's not all Fate and Destany has in store for her.
Author's Notes: The story changes from third person to first. Also, there's probably some mistakes in there 'cause I've been to lazy to revise though I will soon.

Music blasts from headphones of a banged up looking CD player—it’s a wonder that the thing still works and it’s unusual to even see someone with a CD player in this world of mp3s. The band: Blue October. Song: Drilled a Wire Though My Cheek.

Hazel eyes look out from behind a curtain of straight black hair and through a window that doesn’t show consistent scenery outside. The girl gets startled when a passing train zooms by and continues on. She raises the volume a little louder.

The train slows after a while as it reaches the station. “Well,” the girl sighs, “this is my stop. Nice talking to you.” In one swift motion, she reaches down and throws her pack over her shoulder. “Let’s do this again sometime,” she says into the air that was occupying the seat in front of her, and then proceeds off the train. People stare after her, thinking she’s lost her mind. And perhaps she did, but she will never take notice.

A cappuccino and about two blocks later, she’s joins with a herd of other delinquents entering a 16 story building for the first day of school. First floor: main office and student services. Second floor: cafeteria. After that, each floor is dedicated to an art area (Graphic Design, Theatre, Visual Arts, Communications, Dance, Vocal, Band, Orchestra) and academic area (Math, English, Science, Social Studies). The last floor being for physical education. There is a separate building that holds the library.

“Welcome to Flumen School of Performing Arts. New student?” a lady with a Q-Tip of premed hair cut short at her chin and dyed an obnoxious red asks. She sits behind a desk in the Student Services section. The girl looks at the nonexistent line behind her and the sign at the beginning of the line that proclaims: “New Upper-class Students,” and then looks back at the lady.

“Uh… Yeah…”

The lady—Ms. Rin, the thing on her desk says—smiles, “Okay, hon. Last name?”

“Jonson—not Johnson. Jonson. J-O-N-S-O-N.”

Ms. Rin smils again, and the girl is under the impression it is forced. After shifting through some folders in front of her, Ms. Rin looks back up at the girl. “Jane, right?”

“Uh… Yeah…”

“Okay, well here’s your schedule, and your map. Oh and here’s…” Ms. Rin precedes to hand the girl papers. When she is finally done the girl smiles and sets off to her first class. She quickly learns that the school had no intention on giving students a break, and makes them walk up all the stairs to their classes. Her first class being Choir, she has to walk up 12 flights of stairs. She is a little out of breath by the time she makes it to her classroom.

“Ah, class I see our new student has arrived,” a balding man who she presumes is the choir director smiles at her. “Ms. Jane Jonson, I believe.”

“You believe correctly, sir, but if you will…” she blushes a little and looks down, “please call me Lyric. Jane is too plain a name, I think.” Lyric realizes it is probably a horribly snotty statement, but she can help it. She has never in her life liked her name (nor used it often), and Lyric was the nickname that her best friend Jordon gave her.

“Ah… well, but of course. Lyric it is. My name is Mr. Becker. I see that you’re soprano. Please take a seat over there.” Mr. Becker points out an empty seat at the end of the row. Lyric sits down quietly and listens to him give the “Welcome back to school. I hope you practiced over the summer and are ready to start up,” speech.

The whole day dragged on miserably. She enjoyed the school itself, with the music floating down hallways and stairwells; the artwork and photographs that were posted up everywhere. There were couches in the hallways and the bathrooms. Each floor was decorated with student works and achievements. It was also decorated the show off the department in which it belonged too. And most of the teachers were nice and helpful, even some of the students. But she could just feel that most of the student body already seemed to dislike her. Or at least, those who were her in Sophomore Choir class. Perhaps it was because of the comment about her name. They must really think she’s full of herself. A singer who calls herself Lyric? How original. Lyric felt that sinking feeling in her stomach and took a deep breath.

This will pass… Give it a few days and things will get better. It’s just because you’re the new kid, that’s all. She thought to herself, but she was worried. Most of these kids had previously known each other from the performing arts middle school, and those that didn’t attend the middle school already had all of freshman year to fit in. Staring out of the window, Lyric did her best to push it out of her mind.

Finally, the bell rang and Lyric gathered her things and left. Her headphones went back on and she began walking back to the train station. She was standing in a crowd waiting to cross when she was suddenly pushed. Sound filled her ears as she fell into the street. Someone screamed, breaks screeched. A loud thud followed and the world went dark.

I feel disconnected… I feel light…

I’m in a crowd. At first I thought that I was on 31^st Avenue in the business district, pushing past suits, but then I realize there’s nothing here except dark silhouettes. And it’s noisy here. Not the noise of business men and women on their way to work, or the noise of traffic—but white noise; static noise. I’m running now, trying to push past the faceless shapes of darkness, but they keep pushing me back. They’re all moving in all directions, colliding with each other, passing through one another.

All of a sudden a thought occurs to me that I don’t know why I’m here. I don’t even know what here is. For a second I forget who I am, and I stop trying to get past the silhouettes. In fact, I’m letting myself drift past them, drift through them. It feels like I could float through here forever, just letting myself slip. I’m slipping away… Until something roughly grabs me and I’m being pulled.

I open my eyes and wince as bright white light pours in from all directions. I close my eyes, but it seems like it just keeps floating in. I place a hand over my eyes and groan. I’m not longer weightless, I notice. I still don’t feel very grounded, but I’m not as groggy either. I don’t feel like I can just float away. I try opening my eyes again, and my head spins, but I don’t shut them. Finally they adjust to the light and I realize that whiteness is all that’s around me. Just endless, moving on forever, and at the moment, it doesn’t seem in the least bit strange to me.

“Jane Jonson. Age 15.”

I look up and realize there’s a person standing there. He’s tall, abnormally tall. He has a dark complexion, the color of perhaps… tree bark. He has these really dark eyes framed by long black eyelashes. Looking into them, I start thinking about large green palm leaves dripping with newly rain. I can see a whole rain forest in his eyes and ruins. I don’t know, it seems like something out of National Geographic. Just something really ancient. He’s wearing a black business suit, but he doesn’t look like he’s some middle age guy. Actually, he doesn’t look any age really, if you can imagine that. He’s almost… flawless in this perfectly beautiful way. He looks old and young all in one… or maybe, he looks young but he feels really old. He has the impression of someone who’s been around for a long time… like he has stories to tell. Reminds me of my grandfather really. But he looks like he can’t be no older than I am. Except for the business suit. Basically, his whole appearance is throwing me off, and I’m wondering if he is even human.

He taps his foot impatiently and I refocus. Right… he said something. I guess I’m supposed to respond?

“Yeah, that’s me.” I realize he’s looking at this roll of paper that seems to go on forever.

“Well, Jane—“

“Please call me Lyric. I don’t like the name Jane.”

He doesn’t look up at me, but I can see a flash of annoyance in his eyes, “Okay, Lyric, this scroll says you aren’t supposed to be here. That is—“

“Sir, where is here, exactly?”

He finally looked up at me blankly, “The Otherworld, of course. Or Underworld. Here as a lot of names.”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t really understand.”

He made a soft, “ugh” noise and looked back at his paper. “Look, all you need to know is that you’re not supposed to be here. Yet.”

“’Yet?’ What do you mean ‘yet?’”

“As in, not right now. I do believe I’m speaking your language, am I not?”

I nod at him, realizing that the paper he had has seemed to disappear.

“Then what’s with all the hassle? Are you trying to be a nuisance, or are you just plain dumb?”

“Hey! I don’t think that I should be insulted by someone who doesn’t even know me. I mean, how the hell would you feel if you’re suddenly someplace that you don’t know and you can’t seem to remember why?!”

“You want to know ‘why?’ ‘Why?’ is because you’re dead. But you’re not supposed to be, at least not yet. Do you understand now? Damn, you’re so slow.”

I just stared at him for a moment. “I’m DEAD?!”

“That is what I said, wasn’t it?” he blinked at me.

“What the hell?! How can I be dead?! What’s going on? Then… Are you Death or something? Am I going to Heaven? Am I in Heaven? How did I d—“

“Will you just shut up for a moment? Look, I don’t know why you’re here. You’re not supposed to be here, so lucky for me, I don’t have to listen to your buzzing for a good few years. And yes, I am Death. And I already told you what here is, some call it Heaven I guess. But whatever. Just go back to your world so you can give someone else a headache.”

I opened my mouth to say something else, but he stepped toward and placed he palm on my forehead and things went black.

Mon, 10 Jul 2006 05:01:06 GMT

Title: New Year's Kiss
Summary: This story features two of my origional characters: Alchemy and Ghost. It's a corny tale of a New Year's Kiss.

I climbed the stairs to the roof, hoping that he would be there. No one saw him slip out of the record store below, not that anyone ever saw him do anything. I guess that’s why he calls himself Ghost. He always seems to pop out of plain view or slip into it. Travis says people who did time learned to pick up that trick, though I’m sure he doesn’t know that from experience. He’s kind of one of those well brought up kids that tries to fit into the rough crowd, but the minute trouble shows up, he’s out. Though maybe I’m too harsh on him; we all have our issues, don’t we?

As soon as I open the door, a small gust of cold wind and snow greets me. I frown as I hug my jacket closer to me. It’s New Year’s Day and there’s a party going down in the back of the store. It’s my uncle’s store and most of the kids that work here feel this place to be more of home than any other place. Not all of us comes from broken down homes or anything, it’s more like a combination of sometimes things aren’t what they seem and just the feeling that after knowing each other so long, we’ve become family.

“Ghost?” I call out as I step onto the roof. “Hey, Ghost? You out here?”

I heard a grunt from the left and walked over there. He sat there on the edge, hugging his knees to his bare chest.

“Jesus, Ghost,” I began a little angrily. “Are you trying to kill yourself?”

He looked at me, icy blue eyes grinning. I’ve only known him since September when I saw him under the bridge on the way home from school, but I already felt that I knew a little more about him than anyone else and that kind of made me feel special.

“I’m just enjoying the cold.”

“You’ll be enjoying your death if you don’t come back in. Or at least put on a shirt.” I sat down next to him smiling. He shivered slightly, but for some reason I didn’t think it was from the cold. It seemed more like when you think of something unpleasant.

“Hey.. What’s the matter?” I placed a hand on his shoulder. “Oh my God, Ghost, you’re frozen! Comeon, put on a shirt, please?” I looked around for his shirt or jacket, but couldn’t see anything. Sighing, I pulled off the worn leather jacket I had borrowed from Uncle John and placed it over his shoulder and then hugged myself tighter.

“Alchemy, don’t.. Take your jacket back,” he said turning to look at me.

I just smiled, “No way, pretty boy. I’ll freeze to death with you.”

He shook his head at me, his dark red dyed hair not moving with the amount of gel he had on.

“You know,” I told him, “you look better without all that gel in your head. It looks so strange when your hair doesn’t move.”

That got him to laugh slightly. He then leaned over to me and placed his arm around my shoulders. I blushed slightly and told myself he was doing it for warmth. We sat there for a while, not talking much. Ghost didn’t talk much anyway, as that was just how he was. Sometimes, after we closed the store, I’d hear him and John talking. It made me feel a little jealous sometimes, but then I’d remember that sometimes Ghost and I didn’t need words to understand each other, we just did. Like right now, as we looked down to the street lamps and untouched snow. Neither of us had to say, ‘It’s beautiful.’ We just knew.

“Do you remember when I first found you?” I asked a little stupidly. Of course he remembered, it was only four months ago. But a lot of the time, it felt so much longer.

“Yeah, you thought I was dead,” he said almost accusingly.

“Well! You were just lying there under that bridge facedown and it didn’t look like you were breathing!”

“That’s the way I sleep. So what about it?”

“Well, I was thinking about that conversation we had. You know, when I told you my name and then said ‘Don’t ask, I can’t turn lead into gold.’ And then you said, ‘Don’t worry about it. I wasn’t so good at that when I had that name either.’ What did you mean by that? When you ‘had that name?’”

I felt his arm around my shoulder tense slightly and then relax. “I don’t stick to a name, Alchemy. You know how when you look back at things, it seems as though you’re a completely different person? Well, when I begin to feel myself change, I change my name too. And my surroundings. That way, I can always start afresh. One of those names I changed into was Alchemy. I liked the idea of changing lead into gold. I thought, maybe this name could change something as broken as me into something shiny and good. I’m not sure if maybe I chose the wrong name, or just grew out of it quick, but being Alchemy was short lived. Though, that name suits you. You have a talent for making bad things turn good.”

“How’s that?” I asked curious and flattered by both the fact he said that and the fact he shared this piece of himself with me.

He stood up stretching. I watched as his muscles rippled under swirling tattooed skin. He placed the leather jacket back on my shoulders and then reached over to grab his own shirt and jacket which had been hiding under a cardboard box. He pulled them on while he talked.

“Well, for one, you try hard not to let things bring you down. And you do your best to cheer up everyone downstairs. And you also-“

The door banged open and Mary stumbled out with the crew in tow, firecrackers in one had and a plastic cup of beer in the other. “There you guys are!” Mary then stuck out her tongue to catch snow as Mark set up the boom box. Alex was taking the liberty to hand out sparklers and firecrackers while Grace and Boomer danced. Kitty pulled out a smoke and smiled at them. Uncle John came out behind them shaking his head and laughing.

I looked over at Ghost to see a slight smile on his face. I wish they had came out just a little later so that he and I could finish talking.

“It’s almost time!” Alex yelled at me. He was lighting up a sparkler.

Mary put her beer down and walked over to Alex with the firecrackers.

“Oh, no you don’t. You remember what happened last year? Hey! Who gave Mary the ‘crackers?”

Mark looked over at them sheepishly and Mary pouted. Alex and Mary then got into a fight about the firecrackers. Somehow Grace and Boomer got Kitty to join in their dance. And they in turn got Uncle John to dance.

I looked around and noticed Ghost had disappeared again. Boomer came over and twirled me around. “Come on and dance!” He commanded.

I smiled and joined in the crazy dance until I saw Ghost on the fire escape. I walked over and crawled on. “Hey, don’t you want to join in the dancing?”

“In a minute, I wanted to finish talking to you.”

“Oh, okay,” I smiled at him.

Just then Mary started shouting, “Ten! Nine!”

“What I was saying before was..”

“Seven! Six!”

“You changed me from lead to gold..”

“Four! Three!”

“So, thank you.” Then he leaned in, and his lips brushed gently against mine.

“HAPPY NEW YEAR!”

And I’ll tell you what: there were fireworks.

Mon, 10 Jul 2006 04:48:42 GMT

Title: Untitled
Summary: This story isn't very specific. It's just something that I wrote late at night a while back after reading too much Charles de Lint.

There’s something different about him. I could never really pinpoint what exactly it is, and often I think it might be only my need for something unusual. I wouldn’t out it past myself. My mind is set in the world of impossible. Everything that can’t simply exist, and everything is bred from myths lives with in my mind. And the aura around him fits in perfectly with that world.

So is it no surprise that I want him?

~*~

Light ripples through the leaves of the great tree I sit under, poking wholes into the dark shade. I wish I knew what type of tree it is, but it seems as though that type of information is unimportant in this world. A large sketch pad sits on my laps and a tan-ish piece of drawing paper stares up at me with pencil doodles and random words, lyrics and thoughts. It’s funny how blank paper always seems to scream “do something to fill this empty space!” It’s like fresh snow: It’s so perfect and pure that you just want to step in it. I guess that thought says something really horrible when you think about it, but I don’t want to go into that.

It’s always better to ignore the things that are bad, right?

He’s sitting somewhere to the left of me, his newest girlfriend sitting on his lap. It makes me sick. Sometimes I swear he know how I feel; therefore, does it only to peeve me off. I am particularly convinced of this at the moment, since he seemed to ask her out right after we got into a huge fight about something that was probably horribly pointless. But I can’t recall what.

That’s part of the thing that annoys me the most; he always seems to get me better than most. It’s all the reasons I love and hate him all rolled into one cigar. And he’s intoxicating too. There is no reason to be on stimulates when I’m with him. It’s the best buzz in the world and the worst hangover when he pulls stuff like this.

I get angrier as I watch them suck face and make iPod [mp3] pump louder. Standing, I brush myself off and retreat to a place void of emotion.

~*~

Maybe what’s different is the look in his eyes, or even the color of his eyes for that matter. Perhaps it’s the dark toughness that shrouds him or just the leather jacket he wears. Either way it, it drives me completely bonkers. I even feel like saying “Kooky for Cocopuffs!” ‘cause of him. Yeah, for weird, I know, but he makes me weird. He makes me insane in fact. Around him, I feel that everything that should exist doesn’t, and everything that doesn’t exist does. I can find a pot of gold at the end of rainbow with him.

I’m starting to think I made him up.

~*~

It’s the middle of the night and I’m just roaming the streets. I’m restless with caffeine swimming in my veins and thoughts hurting my brain. I somehow end up in front of his house. A tall streetlamp flickers light on me as I just stare at the suburban two storey house in shadows. I am suddenly reminded of Romeo climbing up to Juliet’s balcony to proclaim his love for her.

I wonder if I can scramble up some poetic justice and recite it for him. I hope he doesn’t mind that the roles are reverse.

I step forward and felt a hand come down on my shoulder. I almost scream bloody murder as I spun around to face my attacker. It proved only to be him. “What are you doing here?” he asked.

“I couldn’t sleep, you?”

“I live here.”

“No, I mean, outside. Now.”

“Just needed a walk.”

There laid an awkward silence for a while until I shifted uncomfortably. “How you and you’re girl?” I want to know.

“Broke up.”

“So soon?! Why?!”

He shrugged and shook his head, “It just wasn’t right?”

“Hmm. Is it ever right?”

“Yeah.”

“When?”

Pause.

“Did you want to say something to me?”

“Yeah…” I took my hangs out of my pockets and looked at them. For some reason at the moment I’m more convinced that I’m made up instead of him. “I don’t feel real. I don’t feel that I’m any real to you which bites.” I placed my hangs on the sided os his face and then pressed my lips to his. That’s the thin that’s different about him:

He is the realist thing I can feel.

“I love you,” I said and slipped away.

Mon, 10 Jul 2006 02:37:25 GMT

Helo, welcome to Alchemy Falling.

This is Sen speaking. Hmm.. THis is soo... PINK. I'll change the colors soon enough. Anyway, I created this to place my short stories. SO yes.