story 1: (unfinished)

“What?” He thought. He could’ve sworn something happened, long long ago. It was important. Or was it? He couldn’t remember. “Where am I?” He said out loud, realising there was an itchy sensation on his leg.

He looked down, where there was sand. It moved with every breath He took. It must've irritated his skin, as it was red and itchy. He reached down, itched it, and gazed back at the surroundings. He was on a beach. Behind him was a thick forest and in front was a never ending ocean that swallowed one's sight whole.

‘How did I get here?’ ‘Why can’t I remember anything?’ ‘Why do I feel so abandoned?’ These were just a few thoughts that raced through his mind. Anxiety started flowing into his body in abundance as his breathing increased.

‘I’ve done this before! Many, many, many times before, I don’t want to do it again!’ He thought, not too sure what he was saying. It was as though a previous soul wanted to express his final words. He began to choke on himself, coughing and crying though he didn’t know what exactly he was crying about.

Just as he was about to faint, he looked at the vast, deep blue ocean, and the setting sun that seemed to carry on as usual. It calmed him, but at the same time it made him depressed. He felt as though he had seen it all too well, and that thousands of centuries with this exact view could be found in his memories.

Except, it couldn’t. He was experiencing ‘something that didn’t happen’ According to his brain. His brain tried to delete all thoughts of memories in his past, but the brain isn’t perfect. Or, is it an outside source that is trying to delete these thoughts?

He didn’t know.

He picked himself up off the ground, and looked around, wondering what his next move would be. But then, with no warning, a flashback occurred. He was in a dark hallway, and it looked like a research lab. But it was abandoned and no one could be seen, except himself. Or that's what he thought himself looked like. He wasn’t sure. It was in third person, so he could see himself traveling through the hallway in a panicked haze.

For some odd reason, a small floating sphere was following behind himself. It glowed green and it irradiated the surrounding area. Then, after walking in the techy hallway that seemed forever, a door blocked the way. The door read ‘B3A-ACT’. Then, he began to hop up and down in happiness. The fear that came with walking down this deep and creepy hallway disappeared and instead was replaced with intense joy and a satisfied look.

He phased back to reality. ‘FInd the hallway’ He thought to himself, though he did not know why. But then, as soon as the flashback appeared, it began to fade. ‘No! I cannot forget!’ He said, both scared and annoyed. This was his only objective in life. He knew not where he was, what his name was or how old he is

or how long he had been on the island.

HIs mind once again began deleting the thoughts. It slowly felt like what happened when he first woke up. He felt there was something important he had to remember, but he couldn’t remember it. When he lost focus for half a second he found it hard to access the memory again. He looked around thinking of how to preserve this memory. Then, he found a solution.

He crouched down on the sand, and began drawing. A line, then two more attached to that line. It was an ‘F’. He continued this for 13 other letters. ‘Find the Hallway’ It read. He finished, and he had a satisfying look, but then he forgot what he was doing. His brain had finished erasing his train of thought. Why was he looking at ‘Find the hallway’? And why did he feel it was important. And what happened before that?

He had already forgotten the flashback, and he was a train wreck without a guide. But then, he looked at the words written in the sand. He wasn’t sure how they got there, but it served meaning to his life. To have something to do instead of wandering around aimlessly is more valuable than any item in the world.

And though he did not understand why or how the message got there, he would serve it loyally, regardless of what it meant. He was like a small child; eager to complete a task unknowing of what it would entail or what would happen afterwards, yet the child was eager to do what orders were given. The child doesn’t know right from wrong.

He looked

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2nd story (Unfinished, is an outline)

A little girl sits on her porch staring at a flower that dances back and forth, still in its original place. (The flower symbolizes optimism. She’s in a trance as animals start dancing around this flower all with smiles. She felt peaceful.) This took place a long time ago. Mother comes outside and slaps her. Her face hurts. Tears started coming down her face. SHe looks over to the flower, which saddens a little. She walks into her house to draw about a world with many flowers and parents who treated her better. Then her father comes in, and sits down on her bed. Not saying a word. The room gets uncomfortable. He pulls out a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket, and shows it to her. It's her grades. She has all A’s and a single c. The fathers face becomes red as he takes off his belt and starts whacking her, talking about how she would never do anything and how she would fail at life. He goes out the room, leaving his daughter to cry on the floor. She lies on the floor till she goes to sleep. She goes back out to the porch in the morning and stares back at the dandelion. It was wilted, and dead. She sat there, and cried, but then, It all stopped. She got tired of crying, and was determined. She went around the house to the garden, grabbed a small gardening shovel that was poached against a garden bed, and returned, She put it in a spare pot, and watered it for the next eight days. It was too late for it, and it still died but it made her realise something; Appreciating the things that are bound to end before they do is the sweetest form of appreciation. Even though she was sad, she was determined to do anything and everything, and to appreciate all the small moments to appreciate her life. She looked up into the clouds and promised to be satisfied with anything she does with her life, even if it fails.892

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3rd story, supposed to be a script. I used to animate, lol. (unfinished)

INSIDE HOUSE - 6:32 PM

The room has two beds which are parallel to each other. They both face the door and the one on the right has a window above it. Backwards of that is a fireplace. The cabin is made out of wood. (Play constant fireplace noise)

FERIZSA has a sword attached to her waist.

ERIC sits by the fire, dazing into to it

FERISZA opens door (play door open sound here)

“Hey ferisza” > ERIC

“Watcha lookin at?” > FERISZA

“The fire. It burns beatifully but the touch of man will ward it off.” > ERIC

“Okay mr. poet” (rolls eyes) “You’ve gotta stop with the old man talk.” > FERISZA

“I simply put intelligence into my words.” > ERIC

FERISZA closes the door (Play door closing sounds here) FERIZSA walks over to her bed and sits down. (Play walking noise here) (Play creaking noise here for bed)

“When are you going to start getting out there and explore the world? When I was 15 I wanted to get out of my parents’ longhouse.” > FERISZA

“I’m not you. Also aren’t you at the rotten age of fourty?” > ERIC

FERISZA gets off her bed, walks over to ERIC and hits him on the head.

“I’M YOUR MOTHER? How do you not know how old I am? I just had my birthday four weeks ago! And no, I’m not fourty! I’m 28!” > FERIZSA

ERIC rubs head where she hit him

“How would I know? I’m adopted” > ERIC

“So? You’re still my annoying child even If I found you near death inside of a dead wolf’s guts.” > FERIZSA

“It’s still hard to beleive that’s how I was discovered. You’re probably lying. Shouldn’t I have rabies?” > ERIC

“For such as High vocab teen you’re pretty dumb” > FERISZA

“Look who’s talking” > ERIC

FERIZSA raises her hand as if she’s going to hit him.

ERIC cowers down.

“Okay, okay, sorry!”

“You escape for now little brat” > FERIZSA [POUTS]

FERIZSA walks over to her bed, then sits down.(Play walking noise here)(Play bed creaking noise here)

She then takes her sword from her side and lays it by the floor. (Play metal clinking sound here). She then lays down. (Play bed creaking sound here)

“I know you usually don’t go out often but get some firewood. I’m the only one who does work around here.I just got done hunting so you do it. And no, I didn’t catch us dinner.” > FERIZSA

ERIC stays in his position, not moving.

“NOW.” > FERIZSA

ERIC flinches then gets up from his sitting position. He then walks to the sword on the floor and grabs it. (Play picking up noise here.)

ERIC walks out the door.

SNOWY WOODS 6:41 PM

There is forest all around. It is freezing cold.

[CUT TO ERIC WALKING IN WOODS]

(Play constant snow walking noises)

“Ugh. I’d rather be staring at the fireplace or writing my poems. When did she get authority over me? I didn’t ask to get saved by her!” > ERIC [THINKS]

[SUDDEN RUSTLE IN THE LEAVES (PLAY LEAVE RUSTLING SOUND HERE)]

ERIC flinches.

“Hello?” > ERIC [yells]

ERIC begins looking around himself in circles. He then takes the sword out of the sheath as he holds it out shakily. (Play unsheeth sound here)

DEMON tackles him from his side and pins him down. His sword flies to his right just out of reach. The DEMON ‘s saliva starts leaking onto his face.

“DISGUSTING!” ERIC thinks to himself

ERIC pushes the demon off, grabs his sword then points it at the demon. The demon backs off, and runs towards his house where his mother was sleeping. (Play growl noise here) (Play snow running noise here)

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3rd story, supposed to be like a magical redemption thingy (unfinished)

My sister is dead, and he thinks I killed her. I can’t tell what’s more aggravating. Maybe it’s their batting eyes, nasty frowns, and the constant tapping of his fingernail, but I feel as though I’ll be driven mad. They must think I have a mental illness. I know what I saw that day, and it’s a fact that my eyes aren’t deceiving me.

“Mr. Koji White, I’ll ask once more. Did you kill your sister, Ms. Thea White,” The investigator said.

“That woman you're talking about is my blood, the one I could never harm. I love her with my entir-” “Mr.White, the evidence is undeniable. We don’t want your little front, just tell us the truth, and you may get a few years shaved from your prison sentence.”

The elevated roof but claustrophobic walls made a sharp contrast in the room. It had but a single light in the very center. Below stood a cold, grey metal table. To the right was a tinted one-way window and a P.A speaker above. On the table laid a cup of black coffee and a plastic binder.

“Any sane person by now knows that either way you’re screwed, so just save us both some time, you murderous psychopath,” He said. I clenched my fist.

I slammed my balled hand against the table in anger, then stood up.

“Please, sir! I swear it, it happened! My sister has always been there for me, even if she was annoying at times. She was there when our parents abandoned us!”

“All right let’s suppose what you say is true. How are we to believe that no one saw? It’s simply nonsensical.” Just then the investigator reached down for something below the table, most likely a weapon. “Please sit down, Mr. Koji. I’d rather not have to use this.”

I sat down, disheveled from the peak in my anger. Knowing I had lost the battle, I sat quietly as the man went on about the future, life decisions, and how horrid it was in jail. I began to think, in that cold desolate chair: “There’s zero way in hell I’m gonna be set free. I’ve tried the legal way, but this stuck-up investigator’s not gonna listen. ”

Carefully, I began to analyze everything around me. A vent was located to the investigator's side of the room, but it wasn’t possible to access it due to its height. My right hand was cuffed to the leg of the table. The chair wasn’t movable as it was welded to the ground. The investigator’s shirt had a name tag that read “Carman”, with a plastic-gold plate along the edges. “Nerd” I murmured lightly.

Carman snapped his fingers in front of me “Hello? Are you still with us?” he said. I faded back into reality as his fingers flicked.

“Watchu want? Can you lock me up already? When I get out I'm getting revenge on the person who killed my sister!” I yelled.

“Nice tactics man, I’ve gotta say your mind games are pretty--” “Shut up you granola crunching old lady laundry smelling pacifist,” I say, a dangerous smirk upon my face.

“All right ‘chad’ I think we’re done here. You’d think you’d be less rude to the person who has you in custody.” Carman proclaimed.

He then stood up from his chair, then exited the room from a door that was located behind him. As he exited, he said: “Man just went from polite to not baked right real quick” he said, aggravated.

“Finally,” I thought to myself, being able to get a chance of escaping.

Once again I analyzed the room, but this time it was in a panicked hurry. One of my hands was loose, but the other was restrained by the table. I looked up, to see that the plastic binder was still there. I reached over, but I wasn’t able to grab it. I tried again, but this time, I reached for it with my entire body. My middle finger touched the edge of the binder, then with all my might, I pulled it towards me, stretching out my entire spine.

Once the binder was finally close enough, I opened it. It had my name, what I was suspected of, and a lot of evidence, though I had no idea how they had obtained it. I flicked through pages hoping to find something to aid with my escape. I flung the pages one after another until a page spewed out a keycard. It slid down from the binder, then glided over the grey metal table till it edged the corner of it. If it had fallen, I’d been screwed.

I looked over, to see the keycard had a picture and the name of the investigator.

“Carman Leo Dickerson.” The name said.

Heh, makes sense considering he’s shaped like one!” I say as if the card made a statement.

I then grabbed the keycard that was in the binder and tucked it underneath my shirt. My jeans didn’t have any pockets.

Just then, I began hearing faint footsteps, nearing closer and closer from the tinted window. “I forgot! How could I? There’s literally a tinted window beside me. I pray to God they didn’t see anything!”

I closed the binder, then pushed it back to where it was. My heart began to beat faster in fear of what might happen if they caught me. Then, as if a sudden loud noise interrupted a meditation session, the door slammed open, making a loud boom against the dull, white wall.

was a day like any other. A swell sunny day, with the perfect temperature. My sister, Thea, was getting ready for school. She was in her freshman year.

“Idiot brother where are my shoes? I can’t be late for school again!” she yelled from the front door.

“Probably in the living room, idiot sister. Also, put some makeup on, you Godzilla rip-off” I yelled back.

A sudden stomping came from the other side of the apartment. When my sister turned the corner, she had an angry look in her eye. She held her math book like a baton. In her hand, all curled up.

She ran at me with amazing speed; then finally as she neared me she raised her arm, then a swift wack to the top of my head ensued.

“Jerk!” She screamed, storming off in the opposite direction.

I chuckled lightly and thought: “She’s the one who called me a jerk first! She's lucky she’s so adorable or I'd go chain chomp on her!” I giggled.

I sat up from my criss-cross position on the floor and yelled “O' beautiful maiden Thea, please forgive this commoner's insolence,” I say, enthusiastic but sarcastically.

“Well Ms. Thea is getting ready for princesses makeup school, so idiot brother- I mean idiot commoner can go somewhere,” She says, a slit of annoyance in her voice.

She ran back from where she was, grabbed a shoe that I hadn’t noticed was there and started towards the door. She hobbled forward as she struggled to get on her shoe. As she jumped closer to the door, she forgot to put space between her and the corner, and her unguarded toe got stubbed.

“Ouch!” She screeched.

She tumbled to the floor as she held her foot, rocking back and forth. She looked over to me, snarling like a wild animal.

“Hey, I had nothing to do with your distress, soooo…” I trailed off.

After a few moments of clenching her foot, she got up and put both of her shoes on. She grabbed her backpack placed near the door and exited.

“I hate you, idiot brother!” She said as she left.

“What a little girl,” I said, laughing hysterically.

Our apartment was that of a small one. It had a single bedroom, a bathroom, and what you’d call a ‘living room’ if it wasn’t so small. I Slept here as I wanted to give her a room. I had a pile of thick fur covers tucked to the right corner of it, and a TV to the left. To the left of that was a hallway, which led to a bathroom immediately after entering, and further down was a doorway that led outside. Behind the hallway was Thea’s room.

3rd page goes below

Our father died when we were just kids. At the time, I was twelve. My sister was six. When our father went out for breakfast at a mom and pop diner, he died, due to a drunk driver who crashed into the restaurant.

We didn’t have enough money to hold the funeral, so we instead got an earn. It made us bitter that because of a drunk driver, we lost someone who was dear to us. We cried and cried as we spread his ashes at a private beach, and became detached from school, friends, and everyone else. Our mother picked up drinking, and then shortly afterwards smoking, which she had never done before.

I remember I once asked:

“Mom, can I go over to a friend's house? His name is Nigel. He and his dad are working on a boat out of styrofoam!” I said, a smile upon my face. I wanted to show my mother I was happy, despite the tragedy we went through just months before.

She sat on an old rocking chair in our living room, a bottle of booze in her hand. With the other, a cigarette.

Her mouth curled up in an annoyed way, revealing a disgusted frown.

“You brat you dare speak about another man when your father just died? It’s all your fault he died if you were never born he would be alive!” She screamed.

She got off her rocking chair, and pulled the belt off her waist. I’d never been beaten before, because I was considered a good child in my parents eyes.

She beat me for hours on end, never giving me a rest. I screamed and cried and wished she’d stop, but to no avail. After an hour or two, my sister who had gotten home from kindergarten walked in on her wailing on me.

She stood there in shock, then began crying. She ran over to me and tried to pull my mother’s hand from repeatedly whacking me, without mercy. She tried with all her might, but she was just six and didnt have enough strength.

“Stupid child do you want a beating to?” She yelled.

She stopped beating me, and slapped my sister on the cheek. She fell to the ground, and began to cry, even harder than before. She made such a ruckus that she had aparently forgotten to close the blinds, so the display was available for all to see.

Child Protective Services was called, and our mother was locked up. When I turned eighteen, I got a job and pulled my sister out of the system.vkgv-

[yo what was this story? its CRINGE lol]

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4th story (finale, unfinished)

It’s funny, you only realise that you missed something once it had already slipped through your fingers. No second chances, or re-do’s.

I had a major headache, but I couldn’t remember why. I looked up, to see nothing but an empty sky. A strange liquid was pouring onto my legs. It smelt of gasoline. I looked behind me, to see that I was resting against a destroyed bus that was leaking gas. Glass shards were randomly placed around me, and everytime I breathed slightly I would feel a great deal of pain in my hands. I felt like I should be panicking; alas my heart rate didn’t jump up a single beat, but then, a distant groan peaked my interest. I stood up, and looked around. I was in the middle of an intersection of roads. Fire raged on around me, but that wasn’t what grabbed my attention.

I scoped out the area, and that's when I saw them. They walked slowly as their mouths closed and opened looking for an unsuspecting meal. Thier arms reached out to the distant emptiness ahead of them. Their skin was pale, and parts of their body was ripped from their structure, almost as if they were bitten. They looked like… zombies.

My heart began to race, pumping more and more blood through my body and giving me a heavy dose of adrenaline. I smiled, in a confused way. I didn’t know If I should be happy.

“Huh… Funny... I might die” I said as I began laughing. Tears ran down my cheek as I sunk to the floor. An impending sense of doom lingered infront of me, and it seemed like the only way out.

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