Creative Writing: The Wraithers

“Some people say I was lucky to survive, other will say I deserved it for the choice I made. I’m here to say I was lucky, it’s never ok to say your life isn’t worth living even at your worst you can always look forward tomorrow will come and if you put your mind to it you’ll see that anything is possible.” – Stephen McGregor Professional Paralympian

I comfortably drive my car into the desolate street, Perusing the deserted buildings, Smashes windows and rusted For Sale signs. The car locked up like Fort Knox. I observe the street for trouble. Two young boys look at me from afar as if I'm an alien. Do I stand out that much same greasy hair, expensive clothes, a smart car I suppose I am out of my comfort zone? “Mister, you don’t belong here” his hand gripped his switch. “Pony.... Ponyboy Curtis” I stammer “I live here or at least I did, I'm here to see two-bit’ The Boys turn around “geez his old now” the boy's chirp. The boys stroll away in awe that they saw the great Ponyboy.

Back in the main level of the factory, Wolf and Fox find Hawk lying on the ground, pale and unresponsive, his bulletproof vest next to him and the edges of a red stain showing around a wad of gauze. A soldier that Fox assumes is N-Unit's medic kneels next to him, along with Snake and Coyote. The three medics are talking frantically among themselves. The rest of N-Unit hovers nervously nearby; the rest of H-Unit is nowhere to be seen. Dust particles dance through the beams of sunlight from the holes where windows used to be, giving the whole scene a strangely dreamy air.

Then some of people noticed a new guest, dress as a clothes of the Red Death. Everyone was freaking out because of him. When Prince Prospero saw this guy, he became angry and asked courtiers to seize him and unmask him. But no one have the courage to do it, including Prospero himself. The Red Death walked through the rooms, heading toward the black room. Prospero chased him with taking his dagger. Prospero reached the edge of the dark room, the Red Death suddenly turned to face him, and Prospero fell on the ground and dead. "Then, summoning the wild courage of despair, a throng of the revelers at once threw themselves into the black apartment, and, seizing the mummer, whose tall figure stood erect and motionless within the shadow of the ebony

Everyone has judged someone before they get to know them, sometimes you can even do it on accident. My personal experience in judging someone before getting to know them was when I meet my step-brother Carson for the first time. When I first met Carson I was about 6 years old and he was around 10 years old. I was at his house in Florida that I had never been to before, so I was scared already, so when I went upstairs to grab something from my bag I saw him for the first time, he was coming around the corner really fast and was wasn’t paying attention and ran right into me. The first thoughts that came to mind was that he was big and scary and he just hurt me. But after I got to know him I realized he wasn’t really scary at all, it was just

Whoever that is, was it so obvious that she was torn? Dizzy wondered if it was just Fallen that might notice or if she were wearing some damned sign or something. Maybe it was a guess, or nothing at all, Dizzy had no idea but she didn't want to dwell on it. Not when she had something that actually made her happy right in front of her. "Well anyone after any part of you will have to go through me." she spoke with a real amount of censarity in her words before a shiver ran down her spine.

Good. I touch the icon and drag it. Oh, it’s following my finger’s movement. Alright, let’s see… I drag it to the slot that indicates my right hand. Immediately, the bokutõ shows up on my hand with a quick white light.

I was born on July 8th, 1996 at 5:20 in the morning. I weight 7 pounds 6 ounces, When I was little I was a sick baby, I guess I was in and out of the hospital my whole childhood. My mother tells me how I got my name so many times and usually its on my birthday. When I was born, I guess my parents didn't have a name already picked out for me so when I came out I had no name. My grandma picked me up from my mother's arms and looked at me and thats when she gave me the name Samantha. My middle name is super special because it's my grandma's middle name and my mother's middle name.

last blood city at night the alarm goes off and there scream and shout everywhere inside the city and all the new-human began hunting for monsters, relics, and the zombies that got inside the city.

Once Freak and Max started school, a lot of kids were teasing them, saying Max had no brain, and Freak was a midget. My first impression of them, once school started, was that the two were odd, especially considering this was school and they were brave enough to march around a class, with Freak on Max’s shoulders. If I were to be their friend or tease them, I would most likely be their friend. Personally, I enjoy quirky people and these two fall under the category. I would probably find it amusing to see a small, disabled kid riding on top of someone as tall as Max’s shoulders, chanting their “name”, and getting the rest of the class in on it too. Before Freak the Mighty made an appearance, I might have stood up for Max when they were teasing

“If this doesn’t work, I’m blaming you.”, Zelda whispered as they were doing a dramatic walk towards the flowers.

AS I WALKED DOWN THE FAMILIAR ROAD that lead to my home, I quietly watched as children played by the pond, parents laughed by their porches, and animals ate at the grass. One family was sitting on the porch, laughing away as a young dog bounced around and barked at their feet. “Mother, may I go down to the water with the other children?” One young girl asked, her innocent eyes staring up at her mother. “No, Amara, we are having supper soon.” The young girl frowned, but then jumped back up again with a smile. “What’s for supper?” The woman got up and opened the door, beckoning her daughter and other children inside, where a father was sitting at a small wooden table, working on some papyrus.

The graveyard was no more than a series of wooden crosses of random sizes stuck in the grassy loam. Mostly they were painted white and bore a scribbled name, perhaps a date. When the marker rotted the grave was re-used, by then the mourners had moved on with their lives and the body was thoroughly decomposed. There was no fence around it, no signage to give it a beautiful name, or any name at all. Even the locals just called it "the place on the hill." Often the wind blew across it harshly and it was utterly exposed to the storms that frequented the area. The living here could ill afford sentimentality for the dead and so though their grief was as keen as the folks in the big city, they buried themselves in the gritty business of staying alive

Celia's smile, slaphappy and serendipitous way of life has always intrigued me. Likewise, Sarah's perpetually composed expression, amazing strength and treasured friendship is constantly captivating, especially whenever I drift off into Neverland. Can I tell you? Sarah is a lovely human being, downright lovely. Matthieu, on the other hand, I barely know. Our paths first intersected in the month of May years ago when he asked me to co-present at a conference in Lillee. Though we haven't spoken much since, he is forever a friend.

I stumbled home from the haunt, Drunk from the night of excessive drinking. Staggering inside the house, The dreadful brute was at my feet. That dire cat -- Haunting me-- following me-- Awake. Asleep. I see that beast, every ware. As I went up the stairs as if I were in a daze, and the beast was behind me. Anxiously a site picturing the cat. Everywhere that feline. The more I pictured the more I drank every where I saw that beast. Back and forth from the bar. I feel more comfortable in that retched bar than at home with my wife, and that cat. Terrorizing me, following me. I see him even at the bar now following me. Inside my head.