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One Wrong Move: Ch 2It had been a few weeks since the last what everyone at the detectives department had come to call drop off.
Of course this didn't allow them to let their guard down. They constantly monitored the security cameras and reviewed them whenever something strange came up.
Aiden was once again sitting at his desk, reviewing the notes on the case when he heard a knock at his office door.
"Come in!" he called out.
The door creaked open to show his boss standing with a young women, heck she only looked to be around the age of 17 or 18, but he had heard all about that makeup stuff during commercials.
"Forrester I would like for you to meet Melanie Neufeld, your new partner on the case" said the boss.
The girl smiled, her dark brown hair was pulled back into a bun held by two different colored chopsticks, one was green, the other blue. Her skin was pale, extremely pale, an unhealthy color, it looked like she hadn't seen the light of day in years, she was clothed by a navy blue sweater over
One Wrong Move: Ch1"This just doesn't add up!" the man yelled before slamming his head onto his dark wooden desk.
For weeks the Tennessee state police had been receiving criminals, people who they had been searching for weeks for just showed up shackled to their front doors, like a Christmas present.
But that wasn't the most disturbing part. Everyone of them had some type of wound, patched up but whatever had been wounded was forever unusable. Just last night a man convicted of rape had been shot in the, and when the man thought about this he shuddered, he, he had been shot in the balls, damn that must have been painful.
Every person they found at the door also carried a video tape, and when they watched the video it displayed the crime, usually from start to finish save a few occurrences.
Many private investigators had been called in including the man down now laying his head down on his desk, sighing, and about ready to give up, yours truly, Ayden Forrester, he was new, getting the job at
This Cant Be Real - Ch5Autumn's POV
The bus pulled to a stop and everyone stood up, I waited for Grey to first, I was nervous that he would flip out again if I didn't.
Once the ginger was up he helped me stand, me, being the klutz I am tripped on my backpack still laying on the ground.
I stumbled into Grey and we both fell onto the seat next to the one that once held us.
I awkwardly pulled myself up, and was thankful that we were the last ones on the bus.
Grey just snickered and linked hands with me as he picked up our bags.
The two of us walked off the bus and into the yard, the place was rural, and as I looked around more realized that it was a farm.
Everyone was introducing each other, I saw a middle age couple hugging Winnie, must be her parents.
"There sure are a lot of people here" I pointed out.
"Yea I bet all the neighbors are here, everyone's banded together." Grey responded.
I looked all around and out of the corner of my eye I saw a boy who looked to be our age, he had blond ha
This Cant Be Real - Ch4Autumn's POV
I woke up, but strangely not in my bed.
I tilted my neck up to see a boy with ginger hair smiling at me and gently playing with my hair.
All memories of the previous day came flooding back and I let out a choked whimper.
The boys smile fell and he hugged me tight.
"How did you sleep?" he asked.
"OK...I guess." I replied.
"That's good to hear" he said, smiling once again.
"Where are we?" I asked him.
"Oh we crossed the state border while you slept, we're going to drive to Indiana and stay there, Winnie's families house is there, she went to college in Missouri and that's where she met Baxter." he told me.
I nodded and tried to stand up but Grey's arm held me down, the look in his eyes told me that I should stay seated next to him and not try to leave his side again, it sent shivers down my spine.
He smiled once I was seated next to him again and he put an arm around my waist.
"You can lay your head against my shoulder again." he said.
The way he said it felt more like a com
This Cant Be Real - Ch3After everyone was well equipped and we were all stocked up on weapons, clothes, etc. we all got back on the bus and Xavier started to drive.
"Hey wait", I called out, "I need to make sure my moms ok."
"Ok, where's your house?" asked the driver.
I gave him the address and we were off.
The entire ride I could be found nervously bouncing my knee up and down and twiddling my thumbs, halfway there Grey joined me and attempted to calm me down.
Finally we pulled into my subdivision and my hazel eyes grew wide at the site in front of me.
Zombies, these horrible, horrible creatures surrounded homes, people were screaming for help as they were eaten alive.
I watched flesh being torn from the bodies of everything living around us.
We reached my house and I stood up, my body shaking terribly.
There on the road, lay my mother, or what was left of her, her clothes were torn and her face was so badly mutilated she was no longer recognizable. Even I her daughter could only tell by the re
The Kidnapping Diaries: Ch 1July/25/2013
So, my name is Daniella, I was given this journal by my kidnapper, but in here he'll just be called you, this is my story, hopefully ill be able to escape, and don't worry I'll take this diary with me, I want to remember every detail when we're in the court room, deciding your verdict, anyway, I'll keep you informed as much as possible, here's what's happened so far,
It was supposed to just be a little hike through the woods, until I saw you. You followed me, over hills, around lakes and small waterfalls, past trail signs, and never falling behind my pace. I started to run, and you started too, still keeping up with me. I decided to sprint and try to loose you on an animal trail. Just as I attempted to sprint down the animal trail, you grabbed my shoulders and slammed me against a tall oak tree on the side of the path.
"Let me go!" I yelled at you. You stayed calm and whispered i
It's Kind of A Long StoryLying here in bed, day in, day out, can occasionally become very boring. To stave off this boredom, I've had to become quite creative in finding ways to entertain myself. Most of them come in the forms of computer or video games, surfing the internet, reading and writing, or watching TV shows and movies. Sometimes I might do something artsy, like make something or sketch, though I don't think I'm very good. And it's a little difficult when my fingers don't have as much dexterity as they used to.
At this present moment, it's quite late at night. With everyone else being asleep, watching TV is a little difficult, so it's best to simply leave it off. I'd like to read, but unfortunately my current library has been read and re-read many times. Until I buy some new books, reading is sadly not an option. Surfing the internet can be fun, but since it's all I've done today, I'm ready for something different. Supposedly, the best way to overcome writer's block is actually write something, even i
FallowWhen I was a little girl, we lived in a house with a nectarine tree. My father tended to it faithfully, watering it and pruning away the dead wood and the branches that would grow too heavy with time, sealing the trimmed edges with care. Each spring, it bore a can-can line of frilly, fragrant petticoat blossoms, cast away wantonly beneath the carnal attentions of buzzing cyprian bees. Each summer, it groaned beneath the weight of fruit, ripening in heavy round golden bellies, basking in the honeyed California sunlight, serene and assured in its fecundity. For a glorious few weeks, we would eat nectarines all day long, in as many creative applications as we could think of, canning the excess for a taste of summer in the fallow months to come.
One spring, the tree dropped every one of its leaves, instead flowering in a veritable nova of blooms… somehow, it sensed the end of its long, slow life, and in one last tremendous effort, it sank all of its energies into posterity, producing
She used to owe God gratitude for her every achievement, by the colour of her life did she pray for jumping stars to chase the sky. Her destiny was to be Mulan, a disciple, a paladin who wielded life; a hero - pillar of humanity. Yet she wondered if stained glass was as messy as her pastel drawings, layers of struggles under layers of hues, did visitors look at those crooked contours and praise it as a work of genius?
She always preferred to use pen rather than pencil, albeit she loathed to admit her flaws, she thought that it would make her seem more grown up. Still, did those erratic scrawls substitute inked apologies? Has she been waiting for adulthood, where her pulse is flat like her waiting, waiting for second chances?
She loved how there were infinite respawns and infinite time she planned to spend on video games. Monsters were engineered to be defeated and players were drones on suicide missions, dropping full stops on the confusion which she
TopangaMy Favorite Rabbit Story
I tell this story often to speak to the intelligence of rabbits from my own personal experience. This involves my first rabbit, a big orange doe named Topanga. It was the late nineties, so Boy Meets World was on the air, which was where we got the name. We had made it a family tradition to name our pets alphabetically after I got my first two mice, Albina and Beatrice. After them, it was the parakeets Cecelia and David, then another mouse, Eric. After Albina and Beatrice passed, we bought two more, Falene and Ginger who I bred to Eric, resulting in a number of babies, whose names I can’t even recall, up to the letter S. So, when we got our rabbit, we were at T and I went with Topanga.
My stepdad was the one who spotted her. He was looking out the window and said there was an orange rabbit in the yard, which we didn’t quite believe until we looked for ourselves. There she was, just about as orange as a carrot. She was quite ta
The EncounterI saw him at the grocery store on a Thursday. His hair was cut shorter then before and he looked as pale as the moon. He was wearing that gawd awful jacket with the brown stripes around his thin frame. It had been 6 months. Maybe more. To be honest it felt like a million years was passing between the minutes.
Some would probably accuse my actions of staring at this man for so long rude. And it was, so please don't argue with me. Now...you don't know this man. But I do. Or....I did. He was someone very special to me, but I soon realized that the entire relationship was nothing but fake smiles and pretend make up on his end. Which hurt. Although I did fight through it and I still tried to be helpful, even though I knew it was in vain and he didn't give two fucks about me. I wanted more then anything to be close to him. Even if he pushed me away.
He had attempted suicide on countless days the year I met him. He would talk to me every night, and we would stay up until dawn talking. For so
The CallThis is a written record of what happened on October 16th, 2013. My mother received a Kidney-Pancreas Transplant that day and this story is written from my point of view.
It all began around 5:55 A.M., my mother received what the family referred to as "The Call." I don't know what woke me up , but I remember my mom saying "No I haven't eaten anything... yes, I'll be there. Ok... goodbye."
I fell back asleep as my mom went into my little brother's room and told him what was going on. I heard her say that it was probably going to be a false alarm (meaning that she had been called to the hospital, but laboratory results said that something was wrong with either her or the organs) and that she would be home by noon. She came into my room and repeated what she said.
The day was also the day that my school took a major test (I believe it was the ACT. I am not sure). So you can imagine that my nerves were pretty thin by the time I was halfway through the dar
My Only FriendsWhen I was seven my parents divorced. They both decided to go abroad for work. Of course, each of them to a different country. My mother went to Sweden and my dad went to France.
Me and my sister, we were staying with my mom's parents, our grandparents. We were brought there and dumped there. I spent there three years.
We met mom or dad once every month or two.
I was scared as fuck. My sister is a few years older so she took it on a bit more conscious.
My grandparents weren't the best carers. They were trying as they could, but from a perspective of time, I can see they had some major issues with themselves.
I was afraid of people, nightmares were my everyday. Somewhat I managed to adopt. since then, fear has become a big chunk of my life...
TV and music were my only friends. In some sense, they still are... and video games.
You think you could get over it, but it never goes away. The feeling of being totally abandoned, lonely and helpless is so familiar, I can bring it even now. It gr
Halfway PointsMy muscles clench and twitch and I can't wake up and I can't fall asleep. They say that it's just a symptom of anxiety, he says he is sorry that I am suffering. Nobody says that I am allowed to fix anything, though, and that's the catch phrase! that wins the game. I am seventeen and I am crying and I am nineteen and I am debating if I need stitches and I am six and I am falling off my bed dreaming about something better, it never comes. The first time your hands reached where hers did, I realized that sometimes I am capable of healing, and the first time her hands touched me I realized that I am very much capable of dying-- we are all lessons learned and learning in creation, I don't think I have mastered the art of figuring out which phase I am in, or if they are different things at all.
I wanted to be something worth reading about.
She tells me that I am making things up for attention, negative attention is attention all the same, isn't it isn't it, ignoring the fists slamming into w
My LifeREAD DESCRIPTION BEFORE READING!!!
You sat there on your computer, again...
It was after school and as usual there was drama. You can across a website that you could take quizzes about pretty much anything on. As you scrolled through you saw a quiz called "What State Is Your Heart In"? Curious, you opened it up. The questions varied and finally you got your answer. It said Heart of Stone. You just shook your head and said quietly "They don't know the half of it." You stood up and walked over to the bathroom. The time on your phone read 11:11 pm, wow was it really that late?
You took your anti depression pills and quietly made a wish to yourself. Then, walking back into your bedroom you thought over your day. It had started with a text conversation the night before. Your real best friend had just moved across the country, and you wanted her to stay in touch. You asked your "friends" if she could join and they
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Endorell-Taelos is very well known within the community for her selfless giving and gracious community spirit. Since joining DeviantART over seven years ago, Alicia has continued to make a positive impact on many deviants. Her helpful and thoughtful approach was one of her finest attributes when serving as a Community Volunteer, and this has continued throughout the many contests which Alicia provides on a regular basis. As we approach our Birthday celebrations, we can't... Read More