Creative Writing: Twisted Pleasures

Sunshine was pouring out from in between the buildings, casting shadows all around Ponyboy and the gang as they walked to Pony’s school. They were taking their time walking down the streets and for the first time they all were really seeing what was all around them. Memories were surfacing in their minds showing them what it all meant to them. With every step they took on the sidewalk they remembered a different memory as if they were walking down memory lane. Ponyboy didn’t think it was possible for him to be walking down this street for the last time as a high school student, but he had gone through the years with great grades that earned him many scholarships.

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.

I then told him, “You may leave.” He then left the room walking away with his black apparel.

Sound and smell crowded Julios' mind, pure ecstasy mixed with the over stimulation of thumping music and free flowing drugs pushed his pupils wide and his pores open, his brow furrowed and his mouth clenched into a dumb grin. With each bass filled kick of the music and flash of the cyan lights his eyes flicked left to right, his ocular nerves flaring with excitement at the melting colors and waving sound that he was immersed in. The pleasing form of a woman half his age moving along with the music, her outline dragging behind her motion leaving a line of rainbow outlines, each one like a frame of a movie.

Then he turned the volume on the tv on full blast only to annoy me.i felt so light-headed laid down,having difficulty to block out all the extra noises.i woke up the next day with a leash around my neck (like i’m a dog).i turned around watching others getting treated like animals.sorta like me.Everyone had their own “BADGER” which made me wonder what’s going on. Did i leave my perfect life for this. At this point i wish my life would come back i don’t want teleport anymore this isn’t what i asked for.

They don’t answer me they just exchange a few mumbled words and then they bend down and handcuff me.

I inhaled and felt the warm smoke fill my lungs. I held it for a moment and exhaled, watching the smoke float off into the air above me. I passed the joint down to the next person in the circle. Then, someone put a bag of white powder on the coffee table. Drugs have been picking up popularity over the decade, and with it being 1969, I should really join the party.

John felt alone. He had felt alone for the last three years. Lestrade had attempted to keep their friendship as it had been. They had gone to pubs and drank a few pints for the first months. Then it became obvious that John wasn't actually trying to heal. Lestrade stopped trying to force him, and now he only checked up every other week. Mrs. Hudson hadn't quite given up on John, but she understood that he needed space. John had broken Anderson's nose when he tried to say something about Sherlock in front of him. Surprisingly, Sally Donavan had let him and spit in Anderson's face afterwards. Mycroft visited once to say he was 'so terribly sorry'. John had shot the politician in the shoulder, but Mycroft had refused to press charges and made

I start to tremble as I recollect the events that happened that fateful Tuesday night in August, four years ago. Every time this weather comes it reminds me of that night. The night that would forever change my life. Four years ago today is the day she came.

She reached for the bulky remote control attached to the wall and lying at the top of her mattress. After she called the nurse, she pressed the power button off and watched as the picture faded to a tiny dot in the center of the screen of the outdated television. She stared at the dot until it, too, faded into the darkness of the screen. She lay back on the pillow and closed her eyes, trying to decide whether to ask for more medicine. She fought the nagging feeling that she really didn't need the pain meds as much as she wanted the pain meds. Well, I deserve it, she thought. Maybe I can take a nap if they give me more medicine.

A soft thump behind you breaks the unnatural silence and you turn your head to face it; barely spotting the driders head before her fangs sink into your neck, sending pulse after pulse of calming warmth directly into your bloodstream. Your attempt to scream produces only a long, slurred groan as the venom flows into you, numbing you from the head to toe within seconds. With your mouth hung open, neck slightly turned you are paralysed before you even realize what is happening, becoming trapped inside your own body as the venom strips you of control.

One foggy and cloudy Halloween night there was an enchanted forest and in the enchanted forest and in the enchanted forest there were two haunted castles. One belonged to a Zombie Queen named Taylor Anderson. The other castle belonged to a Vampire Queen named Kayley Bowers. I'll give you a hint. I'm the Vampire Queen and my friend is the Zombie Queen. A few days later the Vampire Queen had a daughter named Sarah Clark, so she celebrated that moment.

A girl walks to school, her head low, shoulders hunched. Her face is a mask, completely void of any emotion. She doesn't want to go to school, but her home isn’t exactly any more pleasant a place to be.

I hesitated before responding and I uttered these words “tell them I am not available.” She hesitated and said ok I will. The phone call ended and I remember looking out the window waiting to see if they had left and they did. I was able for a minute to catch my breath and gain my composure. The phone rang again it was my aunt downstairs. I reluctantly answered and it was my aunt again stating to me that the police left a number to call and I need to respond in 24 hours or I was going to be arrested. I responded to the number and the police detective who was also a D.E.A Agent told me that I needed to come in and talk to them right away. I found the courage to do so and drove to the State Police Barracks. I remember walking in feeling a