Realist's Freestyle Writing Contest: RESULTS ANNOUNCED!

[Realist]

Yep, it's time for another writing contest!!!

This time, there is no topic. Write whatever you'd like, fiction or nonfiction, short or long. I would request that everything written be written specifically for the contest to ensure fairness. Please be honorable.

Rules (Heavily plagiarized from my last writing contest)

1. There is no need to sign up. Just post on the thread to enter. Entries may only be submitted by posting on the thread.
2. You will have exactly one week to write after this thread is opened...I will open it this Tuesday. You can post at any time during that week.
3. Only one entry may be posted per forum member. You can use more than one post for an entree, but I would prefer that the entire entree be posted at the same time.
4. Judging critera--quality. I'm not going to break down what makes a work of quality; just create something interesting and original.
4. Length does not matter. However, completeness does.
5. This isn't homework. You don't have to fit stupid rules your teachers may or may not tell you. Write from yourself. That said, make it good writing.
7. Please don't post anything but entries on this thread. All other posts will be deleted. Deleting posts is annoying.
8. I can change the rules at any time or create new ones.

Rewards:

There will be $20 in total award money given out, payable in paypal or gold accounts. How this $20 is divided depends on whether there are multiple exceptional entrees. A noob prize may also be rewarded for a very good entree by a younger member.

One more thing. I'm not interested in "witty" writing whose only purpose is to somehow make fun of the contest itself or be "funny" by being stupid. Don't make an entry which is only two sentences, for example. Be creative, but don't be stupid.

If you have any questions, PM me.

I was very impressed by last contest. I hope this one can be at least as good. Good luck, everyone. :)

[Realist]

FAQ (I've actually gotten all of these questions asked!)

1. Can I write something abstract?

This time, there is no topic. Write whatever you'd like, fiction or nonfiction, short or long. I would request that everything written be written specifically for the contest to ensure fairness.

2. Can I write poetry or just prose?

This time, there is no topic. Write whatever you'd like, fiction or nonfiction, short or long. I would request that everything written be written specifically for the contest to ensure fairness.

3. Does it have to be in narrative form or can it be more loose?

This time, there is no topic. Write whatever you'd like, fiction or nonfiction, short or long. I would request that everything written be written specifically for the contest to ensure fairness.

4. Does it have to be fictional?

This time, there is no topic. Write whatever you'd like, fiction or nonfiction, short or long. I would request that everything written be written specifically for the contest to ensure fairness.

[Realist]

Um...only one more day left before this starts!

[Realist]

Open!! You may post now.

Good luck everyone!

REMEMBER: Only entrees may be posted in this thread.

[EmelGreenLeafer]

Hell In A Cell.

(The story starts as chris, a new guy in town, whos life turned into a living hell, hes on the bus on his way to jail. Why is he going to jail you ask?, continue on reading.)

chris: What a horrible situation, this has to be the worst thing that can happen to any human, this shouldn't even happen to animals, i don't even wish this on my worst enemy. How can this had happen to me?

(Chris is a southern american that have just moved to a knew city, he's new to things there, he doesn't know how things even work around there. Chris moved out of his town looking for a new home and finding a supporting job, moved to find a good life and live it to its full potential. Chris never counted on this happening to him, he was going to jail for a crime someone els commited. Chris entered a stored to buy some coffe and a news paper, when he was at the counter, a person came with a gun. The Person shot the clerk and stoled a huge box of cigars. The person left, and chris was still in the scene. Chris had never experienced any situation like this one before so he didn't realy know what to do. So chris when up to the clerk and asked, '' are you ok?''. The clerk responded, '' call the poli....''. '' Call who?......talk to me! '', but the clerk was dead. A few minutes later the police rushed in the store, they told chris to get down in the ground, so chris did what he was told to do. The police picked chris up and slammed him in a police car , they searched his pockets for any weaponds, they didn't find anything, but they still took him to the local police station for questions. When chris got to the police station, they rushed him to a room, asked some questions of who he was, and what he was doing in the story. Chris was so nervous, he hardly knew what was going on. The police started talking to him about the incident that happened at the store, and if he saw anything, he said, '' I just when in the store to buy some stuff, when a person came with a gun and shot the clerk, then he ran off with some box thing. ''. The police are not beliving this person, they thought he shot the clerk, so they kept him locked up in jail intill they realy knew. A few days passed, chris was lonely in his jail cell, he didn't have nothing to do, they didn't even give him a phone to call up his family. The police had no lead, but they had chris. Someone the police got enough stuff on chris to send him to jail for life, chris never knew how they did get all that stuff on him, but he was sure of something, he was going to jail, for life.)

Chris: I just came to this state for a better life, i never did anything wrong, please you have to belive me, i didn't do anything, PLEASE!. shut up, said one of the cops. Your going to jail and thats final.

(Chris was in the bus to jail, full of other jail mates)

Chris: I can't belive this is happening to me, what did i do god?...We have arrived, said one of the cops.

(They took chris inside the jail building were they took his stuff, showed him to his jail cell and mates, and left him to die.)

(Jail mates, abner, mario, and kyle. Abner is a tough guy, as he calls himself, he was in for killing his step father. Mario was a realy messed up kid, he allways watched his back, and is afraid of everything, hes in for accidently killing his neighbors 12 year old son. Kyle is a very weird guy, he comes at you out of no were and ask's personal things, hes very random, he's in for sexual contact with a teen over the internet.)

Cop: Well, heres the end of the road for you. Your in jail 343, your inmates are abner, mario, and kyle.

Chris: (saddly) ok......

(chris was acting so hopeless, his eyes looked so sad, his situation can make even the coldest of men cry)

cop: here you, (cop opens the jail cell)

abner: hey look, we have another rat.

mario: i hope hes not mean

cop: get in here ( Chris goes in his jail cell, the cop locks it and leaves)

abner: so why are you in for?

chris: i don't wanna talk about it

abner: psh... whatever

chris: ....

kyle: ah, c'mon, tells us, we are like family in this cell.

chris: err...

(Chris spent the night in the cell, not talking to anyone, he just ingnore any question that came his way.)

[EmelGreenLeafer]

The New Rules.

(It was morning soon, the jail alarm rang for everyone to wake up, chris was realy tired, so he decided to stay alittle longer.)

Cops: everyone between jail 340 and 350, its time to shower.

(The cells opened, everyone rushed to the shower rooms, but chris still lay'd in bed)

(Abner and mario rushed to the showers, but kyle stud behind)

Kyle: YO CHRIS!, WAKE UP!!!.

chris: ehh....ahh...uhh...

kyle: c'mon!, you don't want the jail guard to catch you sleeping when you have to be in the showers.

chris: whatever

kyle: well, its your own risk.

(kyle left)

(The jail guard entered cells 341, 342, and got to 343, he saw that chris still lay'd in bed.)

cop: WAKE UP RIGHT NOW!

(chris woke up in shock)

chris: huh? what? eh?

cop: YOUR SUPPOST TO BE IN THE SHOWERS, NOW GO BEFORE I MAKE YOUR LIFE A LIVING HELL.

chris: ok! (chris rushed to the showers in fear. he has never been talked to like that in life)

( Chris got to the showers, there were alot of people in those showers, chris got alittle scared. Throught the shower, chris just ingnored everyone and everything and just continued showering. Chris have heard of such stories that, you get raped if you drop the soap, but chris laughed at those stories, intill now. Chris was very carefull. Chris showered, cleaned himself, and when to get breakfast with abner, mario, and kyle.)

(on the way to the breakfast room)

kyle: ahhh, that was refreshing

mario: yeah, just make sure you don't let anyone disrespect you guys

chris: what happends if that happends mario?

abner: so someone decided to finaly talk.

mario: well chris, in this jail, its all about respect, respect others, and don't let anyone disrespect you.

chris: how do you gain respect?

mario: by doing something realy bad

chris: like what?

mario: well didn't you kill a store clerk? that gives you respect.

chris: (gets sad), i didn't kill him.

kyle: yeah, we all say that

chris: i'm serious, i didn't kill nobody, i don't even know how i got here, i don't even have the right to a phone to call my lawyer

mario: it happends, cops don't care about you, they only care about themselfs.

chris: this realy sucks, i just don't know what to do anymore.

abner: theres nothing you can do, the only thing you can do, is survive, just like we have.

(the 4 of them got to the breakfast room)

kyle: their serving tacos today (smiles)

abner: kyle your stupid

kyle: whatever, i just wanna eat!

mario: taco for breakfast? they realy want us dead.

chris: i guess eating something finally would get me in the mood again.

(They pick their trays and start eating.)

kyle: this is so good!

mario: yeah!

abner: its ok i guess...

(chris starts feeling good, he doesn't feel sad alot anymore, and he likes the way things are going)

chris: I just want to eat and go back to the cell

[EmelGreenLeafer]

The Stranger.

(Chris eats his meal, and goes back to the cell, on the way back to the cell, he meets up with someone)

stranger: hey you, come here, NOW!

chris: yes?

stranger: your new here right?

chris: yes... what do you want?

stranger: i want you to do alittle job for me

chris: what?

stranger: i need you to kill kyle

chris: WHAT!

stranger: is either you kill him, or i kill you. heres a knife, do it, and you will have a special place here.

chris: .....uhh......

stranger: i take that as a yes, now go

(Chris didn't know what do to, in the short time chris was there, kyle was the only one to bother to talk to him, kyle was allmost like a friend to chris in that short time)

chris: i don't know what to do, but i have no choice.

(chris takes the knife, and heads back to the jail cell. Chris thought he was alone, but kyle was in the cell.)

kyle: hi chris

chris: hi kyle...

kyle: i eat my tacos and got here realy fast, so you could have someone to talk to, i don't want you to be alone.

chris: thanks kyle

(After those words, chris didn't know what to do. He was going to kill a person!, a human being, he's doing the samething he was accused of doing 2 days ago, but if he didn't kill kyle, he would die, so chris realy didn't realy know what to do. This troubled chris throught the night, chris couldn't take it anymore, he had to do it to survive. Chris got up from his bed, when up to kyle, took the knife from his pocket, but then he thought, '' no!, i will not do it, kyle has been a friend to me, he never judge me, he was there for me, and how em i going to repay him back? by killing him? NO!, i'm not ganna do it)

kyle: CHRIS!!!!!!!!

(Kyle saw the knife on chris hand about to stab him)

chris: no kyle!, i was ganna do it, but i'm not, please i'm sorry, now i know your my best frien....

(Kyle took chris knife out of his hand, and stab chris)

( kyle screamed for the cops, the cops came in, kyle explained what happend, and so they didn't do anything to kyle. They rushed chris to the hospital.)

[EmelGreenLeafer]

Lives Or Dies.

(The cops took chris to the hospital, on the way to the hospital, the paramedics tried everything they could to keep chris alive intill he recived some medicla help. A few minutes later, they arrived at the hospital, chris was breathing fast, the paramedics didn't know if chris would make it, they continue down the hospital hallway to a room with a doctor were chris can recive some help.)

Doctor: What happend?

Paramedic: He was stabbed

Doctor: Nurse hurry, give me my tools, and inject him with a sleeping nettle.

Nurse: Yes Doctor

Chris: hm...ahh...

Doctor: don't worry chris, its all ganna be ok.

(The doctor worked on chris for many hours, but it seemed hopeless, chris has lost many of his blood, and there was no chance of him surviving, even if the doctor gave him some more blood. There was very little time, chris was dying more and more by the minute, but the doctors didn't give up.)

Nurse: doctor, it seems like hes not ganna survive.

doctor: don't talk like that, i'm not ganna let this one die.

Nurse: your right, i'm sorry doctor, lets continue.

(Back at the jail cell)

Kyle: Oh my god, i cannot belive chris was trying to stab me

abner: that rat, i wish that bitch was here, i'll show him how stabbing feels like.

mario: i realy didn't expect that from chris, he seemed so clean.

Abner: the quite ones are allways the bad ones.

kyle: chris.................why man.....why...

(Back at the hospital)

doctor: NOOOOOOOO!

(Chris's heart beat stopped, the machine when blank, the waves become a straight line, and chris has died.)

Nurse: doctor....

doctor: i didn't want to lose him

Nurse: you did all you could, and thats what counts.

doctor: i did all i could, i did my best, i guess my best is not enough.

nurse: what do you mean?

doctor: i'm quitting, its over, i'm out of here

nurse: doctor!

doctor: no, just leave me alone.

(Chris was buried at the local graveyard. His family never heard of him since)

(Chris came here to get away from the crisis, but found death. Chris was not realy ganna kill kyle, but kyle never knew the situation chris was in. So kyle just did what he did for protection. Chris life is a sad one, he when in search for a better life, but look what he found. 5 days after the incident, the police got a phone call from the police in the city were the clerk was killed, that they found the clerks killer, and that chris was innocent. But its to late now, the poor innocent person, is now a rotting body underground, food to worms and bugs, and another innocent victem to the mistake of the police, people who we trust to do the right thing.)

[The Coder]

I didn't try that hard.

The great depression was underway, and all Douglas wanted was to grow up and be rich. His father was an alcoholic; his mother had gone insane and was locked in an insane asylum. He and his two brothers, Nelson and Ferguson, and sister, Sage, had to survive on their own without help from their parents. They had jobs in factories. The meager wages they earned hardly paid the rent on their slum apartment, they couldn’t afford to eat. When they needed to eat, they would scrounge through the garbage of their neighbors in hopes that they would find something edible.
One night, on their regular scrounging run, Douglas saw a man being beaten up in an alley by a man in an African mask. He thought nothing of it, it was Chicago and there was always trouble for something. Though Douglas was not trouble in the least bit, when they got together to share their scavengings Sage was deeply disturbed. She forced them all to go look to see if the man was all right. When they looked at the man, they could hardly recognize him as he was covered in garbage. They pulled away the garbage and were shocked at what they saw. Ferguson and Sage both passed out, and Nelson and Douglas both vomited.
It was their father, covered in bruises and cuts. He was missing his left eye and his nose had been destroyed. His whole face was covered in blood. They were horrified, but not because their father had died, they had little emotions for him, but were horrified from the blood and sight. The children did have enough emotions to try to get revenge, or at the least find out who did it.
They ran to the police who did little about it. The police were not concerned with the poor. So they would have to take the matter in their own hands. They first went to their father’s regular bar and asked the barkeeper what problems there would have been with him. However, the barkeeper stated that he had not seen the children’s father in the bar for years. The barkeeper did reveal an important tip: His father smoked marijuana.
The children needed to get into the underworld to find out who it was that had killed their father. So they did, marijuana became their life. They started by finding a dealer. They didn’t want to do the drugs as much as they wanted to find out who the killer was, so they became dealers. Unfortunately, Nelson became addicted to it, and could not help but to smoke what they were dealing. And unfortunately, two days before a month after their father died, he smoked some marijuana that was laced with poisons, and he died.
They lived on without their brother, but they felt it was his fault that he died so they ignored it. The children joined a gang, with a mysterious leader who no one knew. No one ever got to see his face. So they decided to determine who he was. They stalked him night after night, trying to find a time when he would be alone so they could attack him.
So after careful planning and thought, on a Tuesday night, they jumped him. The man pulled out a machine gun and shot Sage and Douglas down almost immediately. Ferguson pulled out a knife they had bought. He stabbed him, but in the leader’s last breath, he shot Ferguson just below the stomach. As he pulled off the mask, he found the true identity of the man in the mask. It was the barkeeper. He searched the body and found the mask inside his coat, and then collapsed.
They all ended up dying, with little results. Their adventure did achieve its goal, however with no one found out about it.

Its odd, Emel and I are the ones going to summer school and were are the ones who already posted.

[deleryn]

My entry would be aided by some comments:

It's sort of writt3n in leetspeak. I think it's hillarious and I had a lot of fun doing it (never wrote much html before), but I'm sure most of you won't like it. No matter. Some of it requires knowledge of Z. Master's presence in CAU to be funny. I don't expect to win at all, but I might make a sequel anyways. Yes, there are pictures and I planned on taking advantage of html much more than I did, but didn't. Without further ado,

73h 4dv3n7urs 0f Z. M4s73r!--3p1cks0d3 2: 73h gr8 3sc4p3! (http://members.cox.net/dpott/zm4.html)

Need I remind anyone that Realist only wants entrees in this thread? PM me with comments if you need to.

[Serge]

"Boy, what a night..." I said to myself. It was supposed to have been easy money. But that stupid girl had to ruin everything. Why did she have to keep smiling at me like that? Ugh, this was a terrible situation I had landed myself in. I'm no saint, I've done some seriously messed up things in my life, so why couldn't I do this. I mean, she was young, she'd be alright if they caught her, I mean, they wouldn't stick her in New Trust Penitentiary or anything. New Trust Penitentiary, what a terrible name for a terrible place.

I stood up, I was tired of crouching behind that gross dumpster. I probably should have looked around first, before standing up, but at that moment I seriously didn't care if I got caught. I'm rambling on, I should start from the begining, well, not from the very begining, but from the begining of the events that led me to be hiding behind a dumpster on a Saturday night.

My name is Niko, I have a full name, but I'm not going to give it to you. I'm a malefactor for hire, to put it as nicely as possible. I work mostly for big CEOs who want their competition to suddenly have missing shipments, or malfunctioning equipment. I'm also a master of disguise, as cliched as that is, it's true. I can infiltrate any building regardless of the security, that's why I get paid so well. Anyway, a few weeks ago, July 16th, I think it was, yeah, Monday the 16th, this guy offers me a ton of money for this job. I'm not gonna give you a name, I'm no rat, but he was a pretty important guy at this big company in the city. Apparently, his company had been having trouble with the Breakers, those would-be revolutionaries, and he wanted me to get some info on them so that they would be thrown in prison, and would stop messing up his bank statement.

Now obviously, the government has been after the Breakers for years, but see, no cop is as good as me. I'm the best. So this guy figured I'd be able to infiltrate the Breakers, become one of them, and then sell 'em out for my paycheck. Well, he was right. It was actually pretty damn easy to get them to trust me, that's the problem with the good guys.

Anyway, it all started on the Tuesday after I took the job. I was hanging out at a readeasy (all the would-be revolutionaries hang out there) smoking a cigarette. That's one good thing about places like this, I can enjoy a cigarette without getting arrested. I looked around the room, there were bookcases covering every wall. Some people were walking around looking at the books on the shelves, but most people were sitting down at tables talking to eachother in an excited manner. Sometimes I wished I had time to read some of these books, I kinda want to know just what it is these book-heads get so excited about. I noticed a group of guys in the corner, talking really quietly and constantly looking to see if anyone was listening, I figured those were the guys I was looking for. I took another drag and walked over to a shelf of big dirty books. I was reading some of the covers until everyone gave me a dirty look. "Don't smoke near the goods, you jackass!"

So I went back to smoking near the door. Just as I was reaching the filter, this big guy walks up to me. When I say big, I mean it, he was huge, he had to be at least seven feet tall, and half that wide. He had a big belly, but he had really muscular arms, with nasty scars and huge tatoos. When I saw him, I almost laughed, he was wearing a white polo shirt with yellow stripes, khaki pants, and dress shoes. To top it all off, when I finally looked all the way up to his face he was bald as a cue ball, and he was wearing these crazy glasses. They had thick black plastic frames, and the lenses were square. This guy walks up to me, and he says, "You looking for the Breakers?"

"Maybe, who are the Breakers?" I asked, putting the remains of my cancer stick into my pocket.

"Don't play dumb, little man" he growled. At this point, any thoughts I had about laughing at his appearance died forever, this guy was intimidating as hell. "Come with me," he motioned with one of his huge hands. He led me over to that table in the back corner. There were two people sitting here, a women who had to about forty, but was still very attractive nonetheless, and a guy who couldn't have been older than nineteen. They were pretending to be in a deep conversation when we walked up to them. "This is Niko, he wanted to meat you, Brendan."

I looked at the kid, and thought they couldn't be serious, this couldn't be the leader of the Breakers, he wasn't even old enough to drive. He was an interesting kid though. He was probably no more than five and a half feet tall, and really skinny. He had a red bandana covering grey hair, and big green eyes. He was dressed in a pin-striped suit, complete with a red bow-tie. I was seriously wondering if I was being set up, how could all the Breakers be so funny looking, the police were litterally falling over themselves trying to catch these guys.

"Hiya, how're ya, Niko?" he said to me in a cheerful and friendly voice.

"I, uh, I'm, you've gotta be joking, you're just a kid!" I exclaimed.

"Well now, that was rude, now you've gone and insulted me," Brendan laughed, only there was something vicious about it. I was seeing a pattern developing, these Breakers looked nice enough, but cross them and they changed in an instant. "Please, answer my question, and I'll answer any you have," at this point his tone and appearnce went back to that of a nice little kid.

"I'm fine, this is a nice place you've got here." I answered nervously, I had just looked around and realized that at least half of the people in here were Breakers, and they were all glancing in my direction every few moments.

"That's grand. Now, I'm not joking, and neither is Frank here," he motioned toward the big guy. "As for your second question, though, I guess that was more of a statement, I guess you could call me a kid. I don't see where age is all that important to the business at hand though. You would do well to stay focused on your objectives, thinking about other things is a waste of time. Now, you want to join our little group, right? Why is it exactly that you want to be a Breaker?"

I didn't know how to answer him, the way he talked, I didn't have any more doubts about him being their leader. This kid knew what he was doing. "Well, I think you guys are right, I guess."

"You think so? That's good, I'd be happier if you knew, 'cause I'm really interested in whether what we're doing is right or not." When he said this, he kind of looked toward the ceiling, as though he was thinking deeply about it.

"Well, I can't help you there," I started, "but, I think I could be a real help with some other things."

"That's what I hear," he laughed. "I hear you have a real knack for getting your hands on illegal materials, like that cigarette you were smoking when you came in here."

"Well, smokes are easy, you didn't meet me for smokes did you?" I asked.

"There we go, that's a good question. No, I didn't meet you for smokes, I hear they stunt your growth, and well, I am vertically challenged as you can see. No, I met with you because we have a plan we're working on, only we need some things to pull it off, but this isn't a great place to talk, why don't you meet me at my place tomorrow night. Frank can pick you up here tomorrow at eleven. He'll bring you to me."

"Eleven PM? That's after curfew." I frowned.

"Well, why do you think they call us the Breakers?"

I didn't like being out after ten, unless I had a really good job planned. Those Curfew Bots are hard as hell to avoid. The next morning, after my first encounter with Brendan, I met with one of my contacts. Guy that goes by the name Parent, claims to be invisible at night, whether or not this is true, he's got a contact at the police station and can get you a list of sweep times for the Curfew Bots. He was waiting for me at a conveince store, he was pretending to be debating over which type of lottery ticket to buy. "I heard someone won two hundred bucks offa one of these before!" he told the cashier. I walked up behind him and pointed to a different type of ticket.

"No one has ever won any money frome these, winning ticket must be due to show up," I told him.

"Y'know, I think you're right," he said with a smile. He bought the ticket and walked out of the store with me. "What night do you want it for?" he asked.

"I need it for tonight," I answered.

"Alright, but, something's going on tonight I think, there's gonna be more bots than usual."

"Really?" I asked, not caring about the answer. That kid must have known this, he was testing me. I took a sheet of paper with some times and streets scribbled on it from him, and started to walk off. He took a coin I had payed him with and started scratching at his ticket.

"Hah! I won five bucks! I owe you one, Niko."

[continued in next post]

[Serge]

I sat in my kitchen after work waiting for curfew. I was nervous for some reason, I've snuck around after ten before, I've snuck around after ten to break into heavily secured buildings before. Something else was making me nervous, it was that Brendan kid. A kid his age and size shouldn't have been so confident, there was something about him. I didn't have long to think about this though, as shortly after I started the timer on my watch went off. I put on my black coat, and crawled out of my apartment through the ventilation system. No opening windows after curfew.

It wasn't a difficult trip to meet up with Frank. I had memorized most of the schedule I had received that morning, and while there were a lot of bots out, the path to the readeasy was pretty empty, they were focused elsewhere. I walked up to the door of the building, but before I could knock Frank opened the door. "Great timing," he smiled. "Follow me."

"Alright, where exactly does this kid live?" I asked, before I could finish though, he was running down the alley.

"Keep up," he hissed, "and don't call him a kid"

He ran, down alley after alley, he was amazingly fast and quiet for such a big guy. It took me a minute to realize what he was doing, he didn't want me to memorize the way to the apartment, he didn't want me to know where I was going. After about fifteen minutes of running like this, he stopped, and ducked behind a dumpster. "Listen," he whispered, "we're splitting up, follow this alley to the end, take a left, go down that street until you see a poster for Mayor Smith and then take another left. It'll be the third door on the right. Be fast, a bot is going down that alley in seven minutes." I pulled out my list, only to realize I had no idea where I was. I had to get to the end of the alley and out onto the street to figure out where I was.

"Hey," I said, I wanted to ask Frank what street that was at the end of the alley, but he was already gone. "Where..." I started, but then I heard that familiar beeping. A Curfew Bot was coming down a side alley from behind me, I had no choice but to sprint to the street in front of me. I was starting to lose my breath, I usually don't move this fast. Out on the main street, there was no where to hide, the bright street lamps casting my shadow out to my right onto the sidewalk. I saw a light coming from between two buildings across the street, it was another bot. "They planned this!" I groaned. I turned left and started to run again. This time watching for the poster so I would know when to turn again. I ran for what seemed like an eternity. I wasn't going to make it. Where was this stupid poster. Did I miss my turn? These thoughts were starting to cloud my mind when I finally saw it. I turned and pounded down the alley. As I came to the door, it opened and one of those huge arms reached out and pulled me in. The door slammed behind me and I could hear a bot fly by the door.

"Just in time again," Frank laughed.

"How the..." I panted, "how in the hell did you..."

"You're in poor shape," Frank laughed again. His laugh was actually pretty friendly. I didn't understand these guys. I stood there holding my chest, attempting to catch my breath.

"You did good!" Brendan exclaimed from a nearby chair. "Matilda here didn't think you would make it." He motioned toward the woman he was with last night. She smiled at me, and then made a motion with her hands as if to say "Who would have known?" and then left the room through a door on the left wall.

"Alright," I said, "what're we here for?"

"Well," Brendan smiled, "as you may have guessed, tonight was a test. If you want to be a Breaker, you have to be able to get around this city without getting yourself arrested." "You passed," he added with a laugh.

"So...what? I'm leaving now?" I asked.

"Nah, now we tell you about the plan."

It was a pretty ambitious plan. My job was to get them some uniforms, so they could sneak inside of this building and steal some new invention, some kind of thermo-optical camoflauge. If they could get their hands on that kind of technology, they would be able to pull off some pretty major stuff. Then they showed me a picture of the building, I couldn't believe it, it was too easy. They were trying to break into the headquarters of the company I was working for. We went over the plan for a bit longer. After that, the kid and I talked politics for a while, it was amazing how much someone so young knew, I felt like I was talking to a man many years older than me. For a while, I actually believed what he was saying, I forgot why I was helping them in the first place.

"Well now," he said after what seemed like hours of talking. "I think it's safe to say you're official now. You're one of us."

"One of you?" I asked.

"A Breaker!" he exclaimed. "You need a bandana, you can have mine." He took his bandana off his head, revealing his extremely messy grey hair and handed it to me. I accepted it and looked at the odd symbols on it. "You don't have to wear it or anything, I just like giving one to all our members. Anyway, you're staying here for the night, you can sleep on the couch you're sitting on. It's my bedtime." he laughed. He got up and left the room through the door to the right of the entrance.

Frank was already asleep on the floor nearby, and I sure as hell wasn't waking him up, so I laid down and went to sleep. I figured I could trust these weirdos. It was an uncomfortable couch, but I was pretty tired and fell asleep while going over all the things me and the kid had talked about in my head. Some of it made a lot of sense, the world he talked about, the world before the Transition, it seemed a lot nicer. The government was really a pain, I mean, what's the harm in reading books or having a smoke now and then?

"Rise and shine, it's time for breakfast!"

"Ugh, wassa what time is it?" I mumbled.

"It's nine, bud, now wake up!" the kid laughed. I sat up and looked around, at the table where Frank and Brendan were eating breakfast, there was the most beautiful girl I've ever seen. She looked like she might have been Brendan's older sister, but she was probably only about twenty years old, far too young for a guy like me. I knew if I stuck around here she'd be trouble.

"What's for breakfast?" I asked.

"Oatmeal, again..." Frank moaned.

"Hey, come on Frank, we're funding a revolution! We have more important things to spend our money on than tasty breakfast." The kid really was likeable, I was starting to feel real low.

"How could I possibly turn this kid in?" I thought to myself. I sat down at the table and picked up my spoon, the oatmeal looked terrible, Frank had every reason to complain. It didn't taste any better than it looked, but I was starved so I ate it all pretty quickly.

"See! It's not so bad Frank, Niko seems to like it!"

"I'm starved, I'd eat anything at this point." I told them.

"Hey, save some for me!" the young girl cried out, her voice was as beautiful as she was, and that only made me feel even lower. If Brendan really was her brother, I didn't even want to think about it.

"Oh, where are my manners?" Brendan asked himself, "Niko, this is my sister Gwen. Gwen, this is our new pal, Niko!"

"Nice to meet you," I said after swallowing some more oatmeal. I was feeling as bad as it gets at that point, I just wanted to lay down on the floor and die.

"It's a pleasure," she said with a smile. Then I started to go crazy I think. I decided to bail on the job and join them. They were a great bunch of people, even if I hardly knew them. I wouldn't mind taking on a new identity to join them. My cover job sucked, and now I hated my actual job even more. What kind of guy would double-cross people like this anyway?

That night, I went to see my current employer, I told him what I'd been up to, a version of it at least, and convinced him to give me the uniforms the Breakers needed. I told him I didn't know what day they were planning on breaking into the building, but I would let him know as soon as they told me. He told me that I would get my paycheck when that happened.

"Do you have them?" Frank asked.

"Of course I have them, I'm the best," I laughed. I was back at the readeasy I had met them at the first night. I made up a story about sneaking into the building to steal the uniforms.

"This is great," Brendan said, "Niko, you wanna come with us, when we go to do this?"

"I, uh, there are only four disguises..."

"Yeah, but if we sewed all four together they wouldn't make a pair of shorts for Frank," Brendan joked.

"Don't you have tons of people? I thought the Breakers were huge."

"Well, we like the government to think so, but really, there's less than thirty of us." he said quietly.

"Wait, really?" I demanded.

"Yeah, and besides, I like you!" he said with a smile. "I get the feeling I can trust you."

"Heh, yeah." I was feeling terrible again. I was really starting to like this kid.

"So, which one is mine?" Gwen asked.

"Wait, you're not going, are you?" I asked back.

"Of course I am!" she answered. "These guys wouldn't last a minute without me." She looked at me and smiled. "I hope you'll join us! My brother really seems to want you to."

"Alright, I'll do it, I'll be a Breaker" I sighed.

"You promise?"

"I promise."

"Alright then!" Brendan exclaimed. "It's settled, we do this thing tommorrow night, so we need to make any last minute preperations now."

[continued in next post]

[Serge]

We waited in this weird apartment on Saturday. It was around seven when I got there. It was really small, Frank was sitting on the floor when I got there, I had a feeling he wouldn't have been able to stand. Brendan was lying on a couch next to some guy I'd never seen before. The kid was lying with his back on the cushion and with his legs up over the back of the couch. He was reading a book outloud, but no one seemed to be listening.

"He's here," Frank said as I closed the door. Brendan flipped over on the sofa, and sat upright.

"I thought I could, I thought I could," Brendan read, and then tossed the book onto the coffee table in front of him. "This is the hardest part I think, the waiting." "Oh, this is Niko," he said to the guy to his left, "Niko, this is Alex." Alex reached up to shake my hand.

Gwen was sitting in the corner of the room, drawing a picture. I walked over to her. "So, you're really going to do this?"

"Of course," she said, "you don't need to protect me. I've been doing this since I was a kid."

"You're still a kid."

"I am not," she said offended. She went back to drawing.

"Hey, I got you all something" I said. I pulled out four sticks of chewing gum. "I would have gotten you cigarettes, but I figured you guys didn't smoke so..."

"Wow, thanks!" Brendan said as he took a piece from my hand. I handed one to Alex and one to Frank. I turned around to hand the last piece to Gwen.

"How'd you get this? I didn't know you could still get it all neatly wrapped like this," she said.

"Well, not anyone can, but I'm Niko," I said with a chuckle.

"This is too nice, you keep half," she said while tearing it in half.

"Alright," I said and stuck what was left in my right pocket, and moved Brendan's bandana to my left pocket. I went and sat down on the floor with my back against the wall. The sun went down not long after, and then about an hour later I heard a Curfew Bot go by the window behind my head.

"Let's go," Brendan said as he stood up. The rest of us stood, except for Frank, who just continued to sit there.

"Here, take this," Frank said as he handed me a two-way communicator. "We all have one, use it only if you're in serious trouble. I've gotta stay here, as, I'm not too good at being inconspicuous."

"Alright," Brendan said as he turned with his back to the door. "These uniforms we've got have Nightshift ID's and thus the Curfew Bots won't give us any trouble as long as we stay on the right streets. Once we get there, we split up into two groups and enter the building from two entrances. Niko, you're entering through the front with me."

We took a car to the building, it was pretty far from the apartment. When we got out of the car the kid motioned for me to follow him, while Alex and Gwen snuck around to the back of the building. We walked up, you know what? This doesn't matter. Nothing exciting or important happened, the Breakers are even better at devious deeds than I am, the job went off without a hitch.

After the job, we all met back at the apartment that Frank had stayed in. Brendan pulled the thermo-optical camoflauge devices we had stolen out of the bag. He pressed the button on it, and he disappeared. I could still see him, kind of, I could sort of make out his outline, but I could see right through him. "Amazing," I gasped.

The kid played with it for a while, and everyone was impressed. After a bit Alex went to the kitchen and started making some soup. And then, I don't know what made me do it, but while everyone was distracted, I picked up one of the cloaking devices, I turned it on and slipped out the door. Once outside I turned it off, and dropped it in the mail slot, and then took off down the hall. I climbed up into the ventilation system we had left the building through, and made my way toward the street.

I had decided to turn them in, I couldn't do it. I couldn't become one of the good guys. I was one of the dirtiest criminals in the city. I started making my way home. I was pretty close to my apartment building when I saw a squad car. They were picking up someone who had been caught by a curfew bot. The guy was sitting there helpless in one of those nets. I ducked behind a dumpster before I could be seen. I waited until I heard the car drive off, and that brings us to the begining of my tale.

I was feeling terrible, I thought I had made my mind up about turning them in, but I still felt like garbage. I stood up, I was tired of crouching behind that gross dumpster. I probably should have looked around first, before standing up, but at that moment I seriously didn't care if I got caught. I looked down the alley, I thought for a moment I had seen someone in front of me.

"I really did like you, I wish you would have stayed with us."

"What the," I stammered. I looked up, Brendan was standing there, he had been using one of those cloaking devices. "What do you mean?" I asked.

"I know who you are, Niko. I know why you helped me with this job." He neither sounded nor looked like a kid at that moment. I think I was seeing him for what he really was. "And, I'm sorry, but you can't double-cross us like that."

"I, what? What are you going to do?" I don't know why I was so scared he was just a kid. He remained silent, but pulled a gun out of his pocket, and pointed it at my chest. "What? No. You're not going to shoot me." I took a step toward him. He turned off the safety and fired a shot into my chest. I couldn't talk, I never expected for it to end like this. I fell to the ground and lay there on my back staring at the night sky.

"I'm sorry," Brendan said, "I really did like you." He walked toward me and dropped to one knee. He reached into my pocket and took out the stick of gum Gwen had made me keep, he looked at it before placing it in my hand. Then he took out the bandana he had given me, and put it on his head before he turned on his cloaking device and disapeared.

[monkus]

I stare at the flames. Shimmering in front of my face, the heat warms my soul as I recall all the good times. All the fun had over the years that is going to start slowly fading away, washed in a sea of monotony and mediocrity that is to follow. The flame slowly dies, fighting the inevitable but slowly succumbing to the weight of its own ashes, to the pressure of its own creations. It fades into dust. All good things must come to an end.
Movement all around, voices expressing laughs and pain. Smiles and tears become brothers, a priceless commodity of trade that is split between us all. Stories are history, a remembrance of lost opportunity and lost time. The sun has set on our festival, the fire granting us our last rites. We all gather around the fire, trying to hold onto its glow. But all good things must come to an end.
Claws run down my soul, leaving deep rips and bold scars. I am empty and wounded, annihilated by grief. Can you feel the ache, the marks of the past flashing back at you? Can you remember the joy and the sorrow, which knows its final resting as pictures and stamps? Know the end, the misery, the quiet reclamation of happiness encompassed by pain at its passing. See tears now for all smiles long gone. All good things end. Watch them go with one hand extended, refusing to budge, refusing to leave, embedded in the heart – though seemingly peaceful on the exterior.
It is the feeling of a knife piercing, as if something necessary has been prematurely torn from its home. Emptiness remains. Departure is swift, with a trail of smoke slowly dissipating across the plains. Watch the dark loneliness slowly creep in, as the fire burns out and the flames die away. Its warming beauty is gone, only a shine in the distance of time. What was lovely is no more, for all good things must come to an end.

[DOCTOR DEVICE]

One Night, On A Winter's Eve

One night on a winter's eve,
A lie was disclosed you wouldn't believe.
A man, a woman, and a clown all at fault,
T'was no simple case of robbery or assault.

The heinous acts commited are far beyond repent.
So bad, so awful, one can't think of intent.
An epic outrage erupted that night.
I implore thee to stop reading if your heart is light:

"How dare you think I'd care not!?"
"I swear, dear sir, t'was not a lot!"
Scoff did the man, still rigid and red.
I pleaded and begged, "I apologize." I said.

"APOLOGIZE!?" Roared the all but gentleman.
He mumbled curses and then began:
"I hate you so, I hate you so,
But I shan't stoop to your horrendous low!"

He rushed through the door, whirled his coat,
And then with a sigh, I cleared my throat.
I heard a knocking on my door,
I grunted with exhaustion and started to snore.

The knock grew louder, I couldn't stand it.
I gathered myself, assembled all wit.
I slowly made my way, and turned the knob.
Was jammed, oh my, then I heard a sob.

I pushed, I pried, did all I could.
I could swear I saw a crying face through the homely wood.
I went back; layed down, a prank I though.
But I was sure, so sure, that is was just not.

The knock grew louder, more worrisome now!
I panicked, I was scared, sweat dripped off my brow.
In my week, feeble voice, I mustered a question:
"Who goes there?" I asked, it was not an obsession.

No reply, just sobs, and then a faint whine.
I pondered, who could it be? Perhaps a friend of mine?
No no, I rushed the thought out very quick,
Because I had no more friends, since that cursed trick.

"Goddam, who is it!?" I furiously repeated.
Then came a voice, tired and depleted:
"It's me, sir, it's Sir Lawerence the Third"
"My ears don't wish for more insults to be heard."

"No no, it's not that, I assure you, not that.
All it is, is well...I left my hat."
I gave him his hat, and he was on his way.
He whirled his coat, and again I did lay.

The frighftul happening left me in shock.
Oh, how my business partners would mock.
So scared and worried over a mere hat?
So scared and worried over that?

Never would that stupid reaction be mentioned again,
And to this I swore.
I grunted a last time, and started to doze.
...But then I heard a knocking on my door.

[The Cheat]

The Game of Life


You sit down at the table and ante-up.
The cards are dealt.

Straight, flush, full house - stand pat if you’re lucky.
If not, put on your poker face and
Keep the good ones, discard the rest,
But which is which?

Go for broke and bet it all or not at all or just call
Or
Cash in your chips.
Whatever suits you.

Because when the cards fall right
And Lady Luck smiles
You feel like a King
Flush with the feeling of wining, feeling you can never lose
But you do, and you keep on playing,
Desperate for the Queen to be your friend again.

You want to play it straight,
But sometimes you feel the deck is stacked
Or you think you see a joker coming,

So you cheat to win.

But is that really winning?

You have to deal with the hand you’re dealt.


Edit: I'm not very good at writing poems but this is the only decent thing I found saved on my pc.

[LosPollos]

My heart skips a beat
As i lunge myself forward.
There is thunder all around me
As I break for the inside.
One false step and I'm on my face,
As i get boxed in
On this highwire chase.
"Look forward, not back".
That's what they tell me.
So straight ahead I will stare,
And anxiety I must bear.

The path veers left
and then straightens out.
I get a little more space,
But still I mumble a shout.
The thunder's dying down
And my left side is clear,
But I'm still overwhelmed
by my anxiety and fear.
But I am not alone,
There's a man to my right.
He is gasping for air
And his face is all tight.

We veer left again
and I can hear the storm behind me.
I have to go faster,
against my leg's plea.
Dragging an anchor,
And stomping on electrified wire,
I jolt myself forward,
I desperately spark my desire.
I am almost there,
But my legs are on fire.
My mind keeps playing a song,
like a ghastly chior.
"You cannot do this,
The pain you can't bear.
Just give up now,
You can't make it there."

I shake my head,
"No, it's not true.
Fifty more feet,
I know I'll pull through".
A final burst of pride
and the storm is starting to fade.
I hear people yelling,
People going insane.
I'm almost there.
Just a couple more feet
and i can end this chase.
My foot breaks the barier,
I'm flat on my face.

[andalite]

The Intervention of Humans

Looking out the window, I see signs that summer is here. The flowers are blooming in a glorious display of colors, with purple and pink and yellow squares neatly planted next to each other. The afternoon sun is shining on the well-trimmed bushes and trees, giving the air a hazy, yellowish glow. I look at my computer screen. C elegans can wait; the summer day is calling. I pack up and exchange goodbyes with my professor.

Walking out of the lab, I look around for some faraway trees, to relax my eyes after so many hours of staring at the screen. To my left, I see the harbor for which Cold Spring Harbor Laboratory was named. Triangular sails bob in the air, marking the locations of the yachts far below. Birds, hidden in the midst of the branches, call to one another in a ceaseless chatter of twirps and tweets. The tall, majestic oaks and maples cast a green-tinted shade on the road as I walk down the hill. As I reach the intersection I hear many loud, excited chirps. A short distance away, a small group of birds seemed to be chasing something through the air, and fighting with each other for the privilege of catching it. I walk closer casually, slightly curious, but not in much of a hurry. The birds had found a white moth. The moth was darting here and there, trying to escape the beaks that were snapping at it. I didn't even know that moths could fly so fast, but it was evading death, but barely. On a whim, I decide to try to save it. Most of the birds scatter as I approach, but two of the birds, closer to the prize than the other, continue to pursue the moth. Finally, as I circle them to approach them from the front, the second bird flies away. The first bird, intent on catching its meal, does not see me, but I stomp, and it flaps away as well. After having expended all that energy to chase down the moth, it must go hungry, deprived of its rightful meal by a human. The moth quickly dashes to the road and presses itself against the dark pavement, taking the spread-winged position that I had so often seen, on the dining room window, in school, everywhere. I look down on it, from more than sixty inches above. It is still alive, despite the best efforts of the birds. But it is so conspicuous against the dark pavement, and I know the birds will probably come back for it after I leave. I could use a piece of paper to pick it up and carry it somewhere safer. I could even prod it, and keep the birds away with a human's presence while it flies somewhere safer. But the shuttle was coming, so I do neither, and walk away.

[The Pirate]

It was nearing bed time and the child still was awake, contemplating the every aspect of piracy he could think of. He was fascinated by the stories which told of gentlemen and women commanding the most beautiful ships and rolling in golden riches raided from those incapable of defending it. The child’s father sat beside his son, who was neatly tucked away in bed.

“Father, are there still pirates?” said the boy, turning towards his father.

“No, the pirates have long been dead.”

“How did they die?” the boy responded swiftly.

“Oh son, a long time ago they all were caught or killed. Even if a few managed to survive and continue their pirate acts, it has been more than a lifetime since pirates of those sorts have been experienced. Pirates in this day and age are mere thieves… I believe it is your bedtime now, the adventure that is your life can continue when you awake to the morning light.” whispered the father as he turned off the lights and proceeded out the door.

The child closed his young eyes, and saw pitch black. He was too excited to fall asleep, but he did as his father requested. Tomorrow will be a new day, with plenty of new things to explore like his father always reminded him.

Sounds of explosions went off alarming the boy. White light illuminated his vision as he opened his eager eyes. Thick warm salty water splashed on his face. The boy wiped away the water from his eyes with his hand, but noticed he had a stubbly whiskered face and a matured facial features. The boy stood up, he was on a beach on a shallow clear watered bay which faded into the solid blue ocean in the distance.

“Father!” he shouted, his voice much deeper than before.

There was no response, at least not one from his father. The only sounds were of the waves breaking in front of him, the cannon fire between two schooners in the bay, the trees swaying behind him and a faint voice coming from behind as well. The boy swiveled around and walked towards the voice in the thick of the tropical trees in fright of the cannon fire.

As he continued into the endless jungle, the edges of his peripheral were blurring, but when he concentrated on the areas, then they would come into a rich descriptive focus. He stopped walking, and listened for the voice. It was coming from somewhere near the side him. He rotated in a circle and saw no signs of anything other than the same jungle terrain as he had encountered for what seemed an eternity. He concentrated on the ground and saw footsteps! He let his eyes follow the footsteps and there it lay, a passage so obviously visible the boy was shocked he missed it before. The boy walked into an open area in the forest outlined in deep green vines and carpeted in soft cool sand.

“Ahoy, Captain you finally returned!” came a voice from behind.

The boy reacted immediately, as if he were about to scream, but instead spoke the words “Aye, and start digging you lazy dogs.”

The pirates took up there shovels and started to pierce to soft topsoil. The captain walked continually around the men at work, his sword swinging at his hip. The pirates weren’t as the captain’s father and he had described them, they were dirty, muscular toned men whose skin had been weathered by the sun and cut by the tortures of their lifestyle. One of the pirates glanced vindictively at the captain, his eyebrows were thick, dark, twisted at the ends and he wore a red cloth over his head which absorbed his sweat, a single-shot pistol laid equipped at his side. Another pirate, wearing nothing but loose pants armed with a unsheathed bloodstained sword and a black brimmed hat, struck something with his shovel.

“Avast! Captain, I have found the treasure!” shouted the shirtless pirate.

“Bring her up to the surface, ye scurvy rats!” Replied the captain, his facial expression was obviously shocked at his own words, which came without thought.

The crew of three pirates in the pit managed to pull out the treasure box with ropes and brute force. The pirate in the red cloth was on the surface with the captain, while the other two admired the chest and searched for loose jewels from inside the pit that they just dug.

“Open the chest captain.” instructed the red clothed pirate to the captain.

“Aye, stand back matey’s” the captain responded as he twisted the key to unlock the treasure chest.

A shot went off, and one of the pirates lay dead in the treasure’s pit. The shirtless pirate quickly leaped out of the pit, drew his sword and charged the captain.

“You mutinous betrayers!” Screamed the captain as he reached for his sword which was no longer there.

The shirtless pirate's sword penetrated the captain's skin. The world darkened in the captain's eyes, all he could see was the gun of the red clothed pirate, the closed treasure chest and the blade of the shirtless one inside his body. The captain felt cold and weak, where he was be strong and temperate just moments before. The captain took one last reach for the treasure chest and was thrown into the pit with the other fallen pirate. The falling felt like an eternity even though it was only a few feet. The captain could feel himself dying and his breath running out, but he had yet to hit the earth.

The young boy awoke screaming in his fathers arms standing next to his bed. The room was very dark and all he could see was that it was 3:00 according to his radio-alarm and the safety and security that the love of his father provided.

[ko71991]

This over? I'll assume no 'coz it's still open.

This poem is inspired by a poem by Tupac.
------------------------------------------------------

The Rose

Did you hear about the rose that grew from a crack in the ground
People walked by it everyday but didn't realize it was even around

Until one day a boy walked by and noticed its red
The boy eyed its beauty, opened his mouth and said

"Now why would a rose grow from a crack in cement
Something that thrives in rich soil and good scent"

"How would something like that survive in a place like this
How could it live in cement and avoid deaths kiss"

The boy thought about this matter for a while,
and after a couple of minutes had the answer and smiled

This rose going against all odds is proving something
Proving its health
Proving its strength
Proving its life has no set length
Saying to the world it will survive, so thrive
Thrive on.

Long live the rose that grew from a crack in the ground
Until one day again its beauty is found.

[Project Justice]

A dogs truth(Ghost story)

I'm taking this as if I was in the story, so I say I alot.

One time ago about 15 years there was a couple that lived at Arbury estate. The place was called Woburn Close and was a council flat. I hated it from the moment I went in the door. The first morning there my wife went to work leaving me in bed, I woke to hear the sound of what I thought was box`s being shuffled around the floor (we had left all our box`s in the livingroom waiting to be un-packed) I got up and as I went to the livingroom door the noise just stopped. From then on there were just countless incidents, doors that I knew had been open suddenly were shut, I had curtain track that was leaning against a wall thrown at me like javelins, things moved around, the cupboard where I kept my saucepans flew open and the saucepans just thrown around the room one night, heating turned up full while we were asleep lights turned on when we were out and taps turned full on. Also everything electrical seemed to be effected, a kettle blew up when not even switched on, we couldnt listen to music as there was a horrible humming noise ove rthe speakers and we had 4 TV`s that broke down, before breaking down they would all make a "crackling" sound. As it was council flat we couldnt just move out so were stuck there.

Then my wife started a job which meant working some nights so I had my 2 little dogs that I had left with my mom for when she would come and live with me for company,but when they got here they would suddenly start barking and would start to back away from nothing and just wouldnt ever sleep in the kitchen. I got used to all the odd things after a while and just thought that as nothing had hurt me so far I would just put up with it. After living there for about 2 years I decided to try and "talk" to whatever was in the flat, I asked why "he" was there and what had happened to "him" and the next morning I woke (my wife was at work that night) and in front of my bed on the wall was the perfect outline of a coat hanger, as if someone had held it up and drawn aroudn it, I knew I hadnt done it and I was the only one in the flat. I showed my wife who didnt say much, although she had experiences of her own she dealt with it by just ignoring it all. Two nights later my wife went out to buy some cigarettes and I was left alone with the 2 dogs, I was watching TV and sitting facing the kitchen door which was shut but which had glass panels, it was dark in the kitchen. Suddenly the dogs started growling and ran towards the closed kitchen door but then they both backed away and I sat and watched the shape of a man walk towards the door it stood still for maybe a couple of seconds then turned and just walked into the cupboard. I knew what Id seen but just didnt want to believe it. I didnt say a word about it when my wife came home, I was just in shock I think and very frightened. That night while in bed the dogs started growling and woofing again, they were shut in the livingroom, after my evenings experience there was no way I was getting up so I made my wife go, she came flying back absolutly terrified (followed by 2 dogs!) and described seeing the "apparition" in exactly the same way as I had seen it. Since that day we have never been the same, and we now belive that there's a after life for the restless, and that dogs are the guardian's of whom they serv.

[HorNeT]

The Blockade
by:Hornet

In my way,
sleeping,
blocking me from advancing
to fight the next gym leader I can find.

Hurling rocks,
shouting,
and stabbing won't wake this beast up.
Though, if he does awaken,
I may be frightened,
to find he is in a sinister mood.

After an hour's passed,
I've given up on arousing the obese behemoth.
I whip out my pokedex,
only to find out that this definition of laziness is a Snorlax.

[Emo Princess]

There is no escape.

My life is an abyss of sadness
I am a black hole that absorbs all gladness
When i realize i have no escape
i write lyrics that feel like mental rape

Which reminds me how terrible my life is.
Crying is the only thing left that soothes me.
I have one release, and that's what my knife is.
Even rythm and rhyme scheme loses me.

But just when i think i shouldn't even try
i realize i'm just too pansy to commit suicide.

[meat.eater]

971
The thrice belated blue and red lights caress the brick of Voodoo Donut’s Shop with no fury, and no expediency. It is the east side, too many crank and nonsense calls ring through the station from area code 971. Two officers step out into this dull mist of this stereotypical night of law enforcement with a lackadaisical chatter about the jaunt they most regularly take to this side of town. The donut shop is lined with visitors who crave the late night scene of heavy metal, “maple bacon donuts” and shooting cocaine in the bathrooms. And just as the night is allured with this infectious tragedy of demons and darkness in stereotype to the officer, the Satanists of Voodoo Donuts seem to agree with it. When the blue and red is seen, users pile out of the bathrooms, and the dank little waiting room clears. Just as if in “Archie,” the donut manager appears from the air and offers the officers free donuts with boisterous camaraderie. It’s hard not to laugh at such droll proposal, to the point of acceptance, but the officers don't enjoy spending much time in 971, and don’t plan on staying for a lengthy period for the plight of this engagement. Their decline of free donuts cues the cocaine and the bloodshot eyes back into the bathrooms, knowing the agenda is focused on a different perpetration tonight. They advance to their corners, escaping all eye contact until their "relaxed" state renewed. The sound of a drug user is the very sound one would imagine Lucifer himself to make: a grunt, a moan, a smile, a demonic laugh of cocaine and razorblades, an exhale as they look around them. It’s a neurotic and terrifying exposure. A boy, not 18, is ingrained into the sinister appeals, but he fails to laugh or smile – the identification of the truly cursed, the truly lost.
Watching officers working is comical. It’s hard not so say they appear as buffoons as they rummage through garbage like it’s supposed to be crucial evidence while having no comprehension on what they’re actually executing. These two are no exception. Middle class, fat, careless men, who undoubtedly watch some sort of crime show on television and let it rub off into their stature in some pathetic attempt to rectify their worth in society. One wears aviators, one has a bushy moustache; they live in the “Archie” cartoon. As Moustache kicks over pales next to the dumpster behind Voodoo, Aviators talks about his kids, his family, his “hard life.” If he’s looking for sympathy, he’s in the wrong district and preaching to the wrong crowd. As long as they wear blue and have guns, they think they’re untouchable, invincible; and they hold themselves upright accordingly. Around 971, anyone in blue is always being watched, and in this situation, the watcher is rolling his eyes, undoubtedly. As the banter continues, Aviators leans in that same lackadaisical manner against the dumpster and slides it back not more than in inch. His action reveals the cause for a phone call, that set the two jesters in the king’s court. Pushed away, the dumpster reveals a wet spot on the ground beneath. Still casually, as Moustache is rummaging through another garbage can, Aviators flicks him flashlight on, securing his fear of the damp ground. He is seeing death in its raw form, a deep purple against the black asphalt. He stiffens, straightening his back and revealing how obese he truly is, and stops his undying chatter. With a simple glance, Moustache justifies the silence with a spray of profanity, still encompassed by his "work." Aviators is still superhero-like in posture, and with a quick stride passes the pales toward his esteemed colleague. Words cannot come to even the strongest man when he is enveloped in his dreariest fear, and he vomits before he can speak. Somewhere in the distance a laugh of cocaine and razorblades is heard. With Aviators pressed to the earth in fear, Moustache brilliantly assess' the situation to be SNAFU'ed, and quickly shuffles over to the dumpster and pushes it aside.
With the snap of an old engine and the crack of a new whip, Moustache is pinned upright against the dumpster, which caves with his weight. The purple of the ground is suddenly covering his body; he is numb with fear and with pain. He reaches for the ground for leverage to move, and grasps the cold hand of a cold soul. He lets out a wail and clutches the ground, cheek to pavement, face to a horror. Under the dumpster, looking with innocent fury is a crazed being, if "being" can categorize him. His left cheek is gone, around his eyes face-painted red and black with angst of a deprived man. He is draped in skulls, crosses, and swastica's, with spiked hair and nothing else. Covering his body is his own seed and the seed of a thousand men, and his mouth matches the pleasurable decay of his life. This is the last sight officer 'Moustache' sees in his thirty-six short years.
Aviators vomits again. Somewhere in the distance a laugh is heard.
The 18 year old boy stands Godly against the streetlights at the entrance to the alley. He looks into the abyss where the shot is heard, and with pitiful innocence screams blood and tears. It is that look that penetrates behind and through Aviators and his eyes meet with dark of a cement wall behind him. The cocaine on the boys fingers is stinging with admiration, and he paints the white powder onto his cold face, marking himself with the angst of a deprived man. There in the streets looking beyond the shadows with an eerie stare he spits up, he clasps his pants, and sniffs the still air with exodus.
It’s past two o’clock, Voodoo Donuts is closed. And somewhere in the distance, deep in the corruption of 971, a laugh is heard.

[shatterstar]

listen to the wind blow,
look at all the children,
playing like only they know.
ignorant of the coming storm, they be in bliss.

we cannot be ignorant,
we have been hurt, we have learned.
now we know, but what we know we cannot say,
that hurts more than knowing.

look at all the children
carefree they play in the path of the storm
we see the children, we hear the wind blow
we know the coming of the storm
but we cannot tell them
we know not how
we can only watch.

look now again at the children,
look closer, look at one child.
he looks not at the play, which he has grasped.
he looks away, he looks around, he looks afar.
now he hears the wind, he sees..something
now he knows something comes
the child is like us, he knows something comes,
but he cannot speak of it, his mind is all thumbs.

we must watch, that is our fate.
but the child will not just watch,
he is a child, he has a gift, lost to all else,
he can act, he need not think, he screams.

look at all the children, look at the loss of bliss,
as terrible knowledge is gained and peace is lost.
they flee, knowing something is amiss,
they saved themselves, but at what cost?

and what of the first child?
the child whose mind roamed free,
only to know the coming of the storm,
his mind is closed, refusing to see,
human clay is shaped, it takes its new hard form.

and what of us? the trees?
we stay, we do not flee.
we watch; we watch the coming of the storm.

[La Muerte]

Persona

Cuando pienso sobre todo el mundo
pienso que no puedo fijarlo
yo se que no puedo salvarlo
Asi yo solo puedo arruinarlo

Quiero ayudar
pero no quiero hacer
Quiero regalar
pero no quiero comprar

Asi soy egoista
Asi yo no cuido

Pero mi corazon esta aqui para todos

[lostandconfused]

Impossible.

A poem under pressure,
Seemingly easy for some,
But not for little old Losty,
Sitting here willing new thoughts to come.

The cash is very tempting,
I have my eye on a new book,
Or perhaps I'll buy a new poster,
Simply for its look.

Only 26 minutes to write,
A poem in this amount of time?
Surely this task is impossible,
Especially if you attempt to rhyme!

I've written many pieces in the past,
But none with such a time constraint as this.
Suppose I do get it finished?
Surely I'd deserve a reward, maybe even a kiss.

But alas, only 17 minutes left,
I suppose I should just quit.
The task of this poem has proved impossible,
Not even a professional writer could finish it.

For what it's worth,
I gave it my best.
But it seems as though I were destined,
To lose this contest.

[Realist]

Just letting you all know, so I don't get any more PMs about it, I haven't forgot about this. :) I've read and considered all the entries and the awards will be presented soon.

[Realist]

I have a few comments on all the entries. The order is somewhat random, deal with it. :)

I read everything pretty closely and the comments are not the total of my thoughts. They are also pretty generalized because I don't feel like spending hours writing detailed ones up.

---

Emo Princess--Pretty funny, if inoriginal. Well rhymed too. I like a lot.

Hornet--Go pokemon poetry! Nice concept in theory, but it is neither funny nor emotionaly connective...I'm not sure what the point is.

Project Justice--Not particularly scary.

Ko--That poem looks VERY inspired by Tupac. Do your own stuff. :)

The Pirate--Cute story....not much subtance here, but it's solid.

andalite--Pretty well written and immersive, compelling presentation of an idea. But not too exciting.

Los Pollos--Moderately good rhyming, nothing realy innovative. Still...a substantial poem.

The Cheat--Fairly cliche. I like the flow a lot though, I find myself coming back to this poem.

Doctor Device--This is not an unclever poem. The rhymes are of mixed quality, and it isn't too compelling or original, but I enjoyed reading it.

EmelGreenLeafer--Your writing is often awkward, your story not too intelligent, and your characters boring. So why did I keep on reading with interest as to what would happen next? First, you have a unique writing style--it may be childish but I find it clean and fresh. Second, I really like the way you deal with dialogue. It gives your writing a nice freestyle feel to it. Third, you really establish your setting. You can feel that the guy's in a jail. But I think the best part of your writing is the simplicity and purity of it all. Gives your story a kind of raw power and reality that you rarely see these days except in children's books. Guy feels good when good stuff happens. Your story is human.

Serge--Engaging plot, well-fleshed setting, interesting characters. Still, there isn't anything really new here, it's low fiction territory. A couple of stylistic annoyances. But it's still a very solid and interesting work; I felt the suspense; I highly enjoyed the read.

The Coder--Never, ever, start a story with the words "I didn't try that hard" as applying to the author. :)

delyren--I'm sure your story is excellent. I'm equally sure that no one is actually going to read it. Including me. :)

Losty-Clever idea and pretty well carried out. Some annoying forced rhymes, and not exactly anything genius, but entertaining.

La Muerte-Disqualified

shatterstar-interesting ideas, original. I didn't find it too effective or emotionally connective though.

meat.eater--Very awkwardly written--a pain to read--don't use complex words and sentence structures unless you know how to use them. The plot and environmet is good.

Monkus--Quite effective, has an emotional power. I like the poeticism...still, it's not exactly a new concept, and it could be sharper and more innovative.

[Realist]

And the winners are....

Serge and EmeraldGreenLeafer!

The prize will be split 50-50....

[The Pirate]

I reread Serge's entry quite a few times. I really liked his story and loved the characters.

EmeraldGreenLeafer's story made me feel good at the end, eventhough it was sad I was very pleased that a younger member entered. I liked how the story was an adult situtation though the eyes of an adolesent author.

Congratulations guys, well deserved!

[|ReNeGaDe|]

Congrats guys. Well i thought Ko's was outstanding.

[speaker4thedead]

Ko's was word for word from tupac me thinks

And i was gonna enter this but forgot all about it :(

[Cuathon]

meh. serge's was pretty good, but i didnt like emel's that much.

[ko71991]

Ko's was word for word from tupac me thinks

And i was gonna enter this but forgot all about it :(
O rly? :eek:

There's..


The Rose That Grew From Concrete by Tupac

Did you hear about the rose that grew from a crack in the concrete?
Proving nature's law is wrong it learned to walk with out having feet.
Funny it seems, but by keeping it's dreams, it learned to breathe fresh air.
Long live the rose that grew from concrete when no one else ever cared.

And then there's...

The Rose by ko71991, aka me

Did you hear about the rose that grew from a crack in the ground
People walked by it everyday but didn't realize it was even around

Until one day a boy walked by and noticed its red
The boy eyed its beauty, opened his mouth and said

"Now why would a rose grow from a crack in cement
Something that thrives in rich soil and good scent"

"How would something like that survive in a place like this
How could it live in cement and avoid deaths kiss"

The boy thought about this matter for a while,
and after a couple of minutes had the answer and smiled

This rose going against all odds is proving something
Proving its health
Proving its strength
Proving its life has no set length
Saying to the world it will survive, so thrive
Thrive on.

Long live the rose that grew from a crack in the ground
Until one day again its beauty is found.


Pretty different word from word me thinks.

[Serge]

Still, there isn't anything really new here, it's low fiction territory.

Ouch.

A couple of stylistic annoyances.

Like?

[speaker4thedead]

Thats why I said I think, not that it deff was.

[Serge]

ko's makes me think of that scene from Dark Tower IV by Stephen King.

[ko71991]

ko's makes me think of that scene from Dark Tower IV by Stephen King.
Didn't see it. But you talking about mine or Tupac's?

[Serge]

Didn't see it. But you talking about mine or Tupac's?
Your's.

It's a series of books, btw. Called The Dark Tower. In the fourth one, there is a scene where a kid in NYC sees a beautiful rose in a vacant lot.

[shatterstar]

Thats an awesome scene. I must confess that I was to lazy to read of the submissions. Congrats serge and emel.

[meat.eater]

Damn. My awesome, unmatched vocabulary is my downfall once again. I need to remember to dumb it down for the laymans. :)

[Serge]

Yeah okay. I astutely recollect the discourse of the phalanges dispositioning that you, my troubadour, are a colloquial.

[Livre]

Well done Serge and Emerald! :cool:

Serge's deserved to win personally. Any thoughts as to when the next will be?

[lostandconfused]

I admit, my poem had many annoying forced rhymes. Maybe I should remember to write my story prior to the half hour before it's due.

[deleryn]

Well, deep down inside, because I always win anyways, I won before the contest started but I just don't really need the money.

[ko71991]

Thank you Renegade. Of course others reading this wouldn't know why.. But meh.

EDIT: I can't help but notice that Realist said my poem LOOKED too inspired by Tupac. I'm just curious if maybe you weren't familiar with Tupac's poem, or if my poem could be considered as plagiarism. 'Coz my teacher told me to enter in this book contest thingy with the same poem next year, and obviously I don't want to if it's plagiarism. >_< So yeah, real question. COULD save my ass. >_>

[EmelGreenLeafer]

EmelGreenLeafer--Your writing is often awkward, your story not too intelligent, and your characters boring. So why did I keep on reading with interest as to what would happen next? First, you have a unique writing style--it may be childish but I find it clean and fresh. Second, I really like the way you deal with dialogue. It gives your writing a nice freestyle feel to it. Third, you really establish your setting. You can feel that the guy's in a jail. But I think the best part of your writing is the simplicity and purity of it all. Gives your story a kind of raw power and reality that you rarely see these days except in children's books. Guy feels good when good stuff happens. Your story is human.
Thank you realist, you don't know how much i appreciate those words, thank you for your time, and effort, i still can't belive i won :bigsmile:

[deleryn]

0f c0|_|rs3 n0b0dy c4r3s 4b0u7 t3h R4\/\/ P0\/\/3r 0f t3h |337sp34k4g3!!11!1!1

pr3p4r3 urs3|\/3s 4 3p1cks0d3 0n3!11!!!!!1111!!111!!!

kekekekekekekekekekekke d/(^_^)\b

...

I think I'm bored of writing in leatspeak.

[ko71991]

0f c0|_|rs3 n0b0dy c4r3s 4b0u7 t3h R4\/\/ P0\/\/3r 0f t3h |337sp34k4g3!!11!1!1

pr3p4r3 urs3|\/3s 4 3p1cks0d3 0n3!11!!!!!1111!!111!!!

kekekekekekekekekekekke d/(^_^)\b

...

I think I'm bored of writing in leatspeak.
Damnit, I always waste too much time trying to read leets speak er w/e.. >_<

Erm, I mean... >_>

[Serge]

Of course nobody cares about the raw power of the leetspeak!!!!!!!!

Prepare yourselves for epicksode one!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

hehehehehehehehehehehhe d/(^_^)\b

character limit

[deleryn]

7@|-| 5|_|/-*)@ |-|45 |)3<0|)3|) /\/\3! 0|-| |\|035!!11!!1!!!1!113|3\/3|\|1!

Yeah, so epic-sode 1 is a while off. I'm thinking more and more that there won't be any leatspeak involved.