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Once upon a time, there was a girl. A girl who loves school. She would often set strait A's and do all of her homework on time. One day she took her dog for a walk. She went on a path that she had never taken before. All of a sudden, her dog ran off and she tried to go after it but then she saw a mysterious boy in the middle of the path holding her dog. " can I have my dog back please?" She asked politely. "Yes here you go" said the boy whilst passing her the dog. "Thank you. I'm Ellie." she said. "Your welcome," said the boy"I'm Michele." As Ellie was walking back to her house, Michele started to walk in the other direction. "Would you like to come to my house?" Asked Ellie " I'm sure my mum won't mind." "Sure." replied Michele When they got back to Ellie's house, they helped each other with there homework, graduated together and have been friends ever since.
**The end**
Every day, Rebecca stared into the mirror. She stared at it as she picked her skin; as she tried on outfits; as she did her makeup, all day, every day. She must look perfect on all occasions, no matter what. Even if she were rushing or anxious or depressed, she must look perfect. Her reflection did too. Or so she thought it did.
Sometimes, when she was grabbing something from her closet or removing her glasses, something quite strange would occur. Her reflection would blink repeatedly or flicker across the room. Not that Rebecca would notice, for it would return to normal once she glared back. When she did, she brushed it off; most likely just a trick of the light, she thought.
But before long, the reflection’s shenannigans began to become more noticeable. She wouldn’t stop while Rebecca looked back, and she was not the perfection Rebecca needed. Her eye bags became increasingly heavy; her makeup became smeared; the whites of her eyes became red; and her skin began to sag. The mirror is faulty, Rebecca thought. It is time to replace it. So, she swapped her mirror for one that was twice as large. All the better to observe herself and her beauty.
But the paranormal spread. Loud noises erupted from the mirror, and cracks began to appear. Rebecca wanted to scream, but she couldn’t, for a proper lady would never do something as maddening as make a loud noise. It must be in my head, Rebecca thought. I am descending into madness. But, I must not let it show. I must fight the madness; do my makeup more grand to hide anything going wrong in my mind, and wear bigger, brighter outfits to draw attention away from any strange actions that may occur.
But that was not the issue.
One day, Rebecca came home to find her mirror shattered into a thousand pieces. She finally let it out. She screamed and yelled and wailed all day long. What have I done wrong? Who did this? Who could have such a grudge against me that they would break into my home and destroy my most prized possession?
Once her tears died down, she sat in front of her mirror, grieving it. Her hands sifted through the shards of glass, taking in their beautiful shine and reflections. Blood burst from her fingers, but she did not care nor feel any pain. It was nothing to her. But underneath all the glass, she found a single piece of paper. How strange, she thought. She opened it, reading its contents.
Dear Rebecca, Please stop pretending. Please come home. Please, you are killing me. Please, I am forced to atone for your sins. Please, let me be free. __ Yours sincerely, Bex
Staring down at the bloody, lifeless body that lay before me, my hands trembled. I could not believe what I had done, but, well… anything to be famous!
In all honesty, I did not care how negative the attention I received was as long as I got lots of it. Fame comes in many forms, and as long as I got it, the consequences did not matter.
My… ambition… had led me to murder, yet I did not care. But I did want them to know it was me who committed the crime. Why? Well, if it was not my name on the news, my actions would be for nothing! I needed the attention, the fame! I needed it all! So I left all sorts of traces to prove my guilt, a maniacal grin on my face all the while. I was going to be famous! Finally!
I hurried away from the scene of the crime. I may have wanted my identity to be discovered, but I did not want to be arrested or caught. I wanted to live to see me fame! My future! My glory!
As I walked down the street back to my apartment, I hit my gun in my purse. I was not going to risk my opportunity for fame! No way! I opened my apartment door and walked inside, locking it behind me.
I fell asleep that night, dreaming dreams of my rise to fame. I desperately wanted… no… I desperately NEEDED these dreams to come true! Fame was my entire life purpose!
Soon enough… I’ll be famous… __ __ When I woke up the next morning, I excitedly hopped out of bed and turned on the news. I was overjoyed when the first thing I saw was a picture of my face! I. Was. Famous! __ __ The news reporter was talking about my actions from the prior night, and every time he said my name, I jumped up with glee. Fame was finally mine!
Now all I to do was avoid being arrested…
“There’s an intruder!”
We were in the middle of packing our bag when a loud cry came upon us. We hurriedly finished the rest of our packing and rushed out to the open desert.
There’s many loud cries and shattering sound. I followed my parents through the back door and cautiously made our way through outside. I glanced back and accidentally made eye contact with one of the intruders. He wore an elegant blue long half clock cape with gold stripes that stretches down below his knee. His hair as light as the bright sun. He has that noble facial proportion, which is undeniably pleasing to look at. Plus, he doesn’t look much older than I was. Such an impressive young man. I thought. Who is he?
As for my outer appearance, I must have froze like an idiot because my mom quickly grabbed my arm and pull me away.
Yet, I was still staring at the well-dressed young man as his ocean blue eyes pierced back to me. His hands tucking inside his trousers, pairing with a gun capped on his blue and golden signature belt.
“That’s the inspector! Hurry!” Mom cried as soon as she looked at who I was staring by at.
We ran and ran. Until they were out of sight. Before the young inspector was out of sight, I saw him still standing in his spot, looking calm as he watches us ran away. Will he report about our escape?
“Good thing he’s the only one that saw us!” Mom huffed as finally stopped running and begin to settled down to rest for the night.
“What were you thinking? Why did you make eye contact with him?“ Mom cried frustratingly, “ We could have been caught! Good thing that inspector boy didn’t ran after us!”
“Who are they? They don’t look like the typical intruders” I asked.
“They are the royal police inspectors. Just a look at their uniforms will have it away.” She answered.
I nodded.
“Anyways, we need to get to the capital as soon as we can.” Mom sighed.
“Why? Aren’t the royal inspector from the capital? We are just gonna expose ourselves by going there.” I frowned.
“That’s why we have to disguise ourselves. And just by making eye contact with one of the royal inspectors, we have to be extremely careful that we don’t get caught.”
I nodded again.
“How far are we from the captial?”
“About 2 days.” Dad came back from the other families that ran with us.
“We have to continue early tomorrow before the inspector came after us. Who knew how long it will take them to know our location with one of the inspectors now knew our escape direction.” Mom glanced at me.
I lowered my head in guilt. Didn’t dare to utter any word.
“Indeed” dad replied. Nodding.
I don't remember much of my mother. She could have had brown fur. Or black. I don't recall how she looked. However, with tightly closed, mucous covered newborn eyes I smelt her. My nose would spring to life when she was near - scent crackling like electricity from her milk ladened nipples arcing towards my young nose. I would nose toward her, then, until I could feel the warmth just as strongly as I could smell the richness of her belly. By the time I was old enough to remember, there was no more Mother. There was Alpha. Alpha had a smell too; new and sharp. It tingled my nose in a very different way than Mother's. Copper. Leather. Oil. Musk. I could smell him approaching the house long before I could hear him. My nose would tingle pleasantly and I would anticipate a gruff word, a scratch around the ears and a pat on the head. But mostly, I would anticipate dinner. More copper, but different. Brighter. Flowers. Dandelions, mostly. An oily lavender smell too. Alpha fed me regularly. I never knew hunger. That made a good Alpha. Right? Alpha and I lived a simple life in a small cabin in a lush forest. I spent my days romping around the woods but never straying too far. Alpha didn't like that. The sounds of the forest were soothing and intriguing, the sights warm and pleasant. But most of all, the smells. My nose carried me on many adventures but as soon as that copper-leather-oil-musk smell found it's way through my tender sensory organ, back home I would gallop. Until the bad day. The confusing day. I smelt a strange smell. I followed it until a sound joined the smell. A sound I'd never heard. I froze, listening intently to try and calibrate the correct reaction. The sound was loud and high. The smell was wet and salty. It didn't take me long to find the thing. It was a much smaller Alpha. Not my Alpha. But another Alpha creature. It was much shorter, slight in build and far less hairy. Except on the top of it's head- lots of amazing long strands of hair that smelt glorious flowed from this Alpha's head. The smell lit up my nose in a tantalizing way. I couldn't help myself and I had no reason to not trust another Alpha. I approached, my nose leading the way. Wetness fell from the Small Alpha's eyes. It noticed me only when my nose touched it's straw hair. But not straw. Flower smelling, but not flowers. Small Alpha jumped back and let out a little jump at my touch, startled by sudden presence. I sat on my haunches and didn't make eye contact - so she wouldn't feel threatened. She regarded me for a moment and then threw herself upon me, her loud sound and wet eyes spilling out with me fervor. I felt...sad. I let out a whine and licked at the wetness on her face. She let out a little giggle- so I continued. Soon her sadness seemed to ebb. Her smell fascinated me- it seemed familiar yet new in a way my pup mind tried to puzzle together. We played together until I smelt Alpha. Leather. Oil. Musk. He emerged quietly from the edge of the copse, and in the swiftest motion I'd ever seen him move he crossed to the Small Alpha and wrenched her from me. Her tiny voice emited a squeak that was abruptly cut off. Alpha hollered at me loud and have me a swift kick. I yelped an apology and ran home. "Git!" Meant go home, lie down, wait. I obeyed Alpha. I waited. And waited. My eyes were heavy by the time I smelled him. Copper. Leather. Oil. Musk. Copper. Copper. Copper. The front creaked its eerie tune and a waft of pungent smells swept in like a tornado. Alpha. And Small Alpha. Alpha crossed to my dish, his boots beating an ominous drum. His mood was difficult to tell. I kept my ears submissive just in case another kick was in the cards. He looked down at me and I rolled instinctively, showing my belly. He smirked. And the angry scent-feeling went away. My tail thumped in understanding. Alpha spoke his gruffness, scratched behind my ears and patted my head. All was well. My nose searched for the lingering Small Alpha small. She was here. Was she going to stay? I enjoyed playing with her. It got lonely out here. Copper. Dandelions. Grass. Lavender oil. Copper. Copper. Copper. Alpha bent over - grunt, sigh - picked up my metal bowl -clatter, clang - and placed inside- plop, slosh - - - My nose is my best friend. It's never led me wrong. It's never wrong. Small Alpha. Dinner.
The Little Red she wanders Changing all the view
Causing her red To spread Over the entirety of the nature
She walks And walks And grows more red
Walks And walks Without a dread
Her path she follows To grows more red
The red Flowers Paths Plants
They grow And grow Follow And follow
Yet she remains unknown Just as The Little Red The Little Red who she shall spread
The red creates light Which shines so bright
It blinds whoevever interrupts its way Blinds whoever makes it decay
The Little Red shall forever remain The Little Red lost in vein
She walks and walks And never stops Walks and walks As her rose-dust drops
Red Ribbon, young and cute No one disagrees, no one disputes The path her prescence walks The other spirits around her talk
She’s a big deal in our land Everyone wants to know her, everyone in demand This walkway is designed for her soul No one else can go on the path to stroll
Be nice and it comes back to you But, she can be mean too Don’t get on her bad, dark side Or you’ll just have to run and hide
Everyone comes into this world covered in blood.
My name is Patrick Hughes, and I am a forensic analyst specializing in blood patterns, dedicating my life to unraveling its mysteries. Unmasking its untold secrets. I find it truly deepens my senses; clouding my emotions and feelings. During work, I often spend my time examining different weapons used to spill that crimson elixir. By day, I seem to blend in, no one seems too troubled by me. The only problem I face nowadays are how to get rid of the bodies. I usually go about my week building bonds with normal people. But it doesn’t seem to matter, I couldn’t feel them if I tried. I cant feel the emotions that they do, the love, the grief; it’s all too problematic. So when dusk falls, my worries melt away, and I push my day self problems to the back of my mind. All I can really feel would be my blood pumping, surfing through the veins of my flesh. The hunt for a new worthy victim of my blade is always thrilling. And when I find them, itll be too late. Their blood would be mine.
INSPIRED BY DEXTER
‚Not again!‘, I thought annoyed. I was just at the brink of cheering with Angela and Mike, when time stopped again. My glass loudly clinked with theirs, but while I moved my hand with the champagne flute back to myself, they just stopped moving. Their arms stretched out. Their eyes looking straight at each other. The creepiest thing was their open eyes. Not blinking. It still freaked me out every time. I sighed deeply and emptied my glass in one go. This could take a while. I still didn‘t understand how I did it and what made it stop again. But I was used to track time now, even though after the time-stop-thingy was done again, my watch mysteriously jumped back to the normal time - as I called it by now. For now it took between one and four hours and as for the frequency of occurences, I was completely clueless. Last week it happened four times!! This was only the second time this week and it was already Saturday. I keep testing on what the others experience. My plan for this time was to make sure that I won‘t be with Angela and Mike. Most probably they will not miss me, once time starts again. At least that was has happened on my last test. I put the empty glass down and made my way over to the snack bar. I tried not to push anyone. My test would include me moving someone though. I was curious about that one. I took a few nuts from one of the bowls and let my gaze wonder over the party guests. And when I saw his eyes focussed on me, blinking, his mouth open in surprise and him clearly breathing and moving, all I could do is drop the nuts in my hands.
You’re onto me. You’re watching me so closely, it hurts. Must you tower over me so menacingly? My face drowns, ensanguined. Stop. Your petals are piercing my back, drenching me in sweat. Like a frightened hare, I start to run. Past you, past the horizon, past my rumination. I can’t stop. Cascading down my brow is the salt from his wounds, his pained face is a blurred memory fighting my lungs.
I didn’t kill him.
The alibi is centremetres away from my tongue; the words are stuck at the back of my throat and they’re choking me. I didn’t choke him. My hands are cut and numb from his teeth gnashing my fingers in retaliation… but I didn’t choke him. You’re looking at me again, I said to stop.
Run faster. Faster.
The trees have become green noise, the spirals and fuzz turn, turn, turn closer to my face. The acne on my temples burn and I find myself pleading at the poppies — _“I didn’t kill him!” _As if they can spare me. The wind is pushing my eyelids shut whilst I try to creep them open. My eyelashes are scorned from his attempts to burn them away. His knee was against my vertebrae, I heard my spine crack.
He was going to kill me. What could I do?
I stop at the fork in the road. Look, I don’t have to prove anything to you, left or right? It won’t matter either way. My stomach crushed into itself when I saw his face freeze. He was a lively one. I shouldn’t of killed—
I’m taking a left. I suggest you look away.