These are a bunch of stories I find by either: A) Lurking B) I own them. Story #1~~"I Am Always Watching" And I am always with you. I was there from the time you were born. I stood in the delivery room, staring down at you before you could even open your eyes to see me. Your parents, relatives and doctors couldn’t see me there, in the corner, watching you with cloudy eyes, but I was there from the time you were born. And I followed you home. I was with you always, your constant companion. You played with your toys alone while I stared from all angles in nearby mirrors; my matted, clotted hair with oily sweat that hung off my dented forehead like glue. I was always your constant companion, drifting behind your mother’s car on your ride to preschool. You alone in the bathroom, but I was on the other side of the door, wind whistling through the bruised hole in my throat. My arms twisted and hanging in their sockets as I stood hunched on the other side of the shower curtain. I wait and follow you. I follow and drift behind you. I’m not seen. I’m almost not-there in light. You never saw me that morning as I sat across from you at the breakfast table, a shiny red clot hanging from an empty tooth socket as I gaped grotesquely at you. I wonder sometimes if you know I’m there. I think you are aware, but you’ll never understand just how close I am. I spend hours of your day doing nothing more than breathing in your ear. Breathing – gagging, really. I crave to be close to you, to always wrap my crippled arms around your neck. I lie near you ever single night, cloudy eyes staring at your ceiling, underneath your bed, at your sleeping face in the dark. Yes. You caught me staring occasionally. Your parents came running down to your room one night when you screamed. You were just beginning to talk, so you were only able to cry out “Man! Man in my room!” You thought you’d never forget the sight of me, with my collapsed jaw hanging to my chest, swinging back and forth. I sank back into your closet and your mother was unable to see me though you pointed and pointed and pointed. You thought you’d never forget when they left that same night. You saw the closet door crack so softly and me crawling across the floor to your bed on all fours, shambling in jerking movements as I pushed myself under your bed on disjointed limbs. You learned a new word for me: boogeyman. Not quite the monster you thought I was. I’m just waiting and following you always, touching your face with my knotted fingers as you sleep. You’ll see me again soon. Any day now, I’m coming, blunt and brutal. One day you’ll walk across the road and – I believe I’ll plow into you with loud roar and a screech. You rolling on the pavement, rolling under wheels, bluntforce metal fenders and my fingers touching your face again and again. As you stare up from the cold pavement with cloudy eyes; your matted, clotted hair hanging in your face and your jaw unhinged and swinging to your chest. You’ll see me approaching. No one else will see me. You will stare past them into my eyes and I’ll leer down at you. For the first time in our life, something like a smile will come over my face. You’ll swear you’re looking into a mirror as clotted red bubbles from our mouths. I’ll lean down, past the doctors and the oogling people and pick you up in my crooked arms. Our faces will touch. My wings will unfurl. And then you’ll have to follow me. And I am always with you. I am your guardian angel
This is a story I found, most stories on this thread will be. This is my way of getting you guys to read more.
Story #2~~ "No Messages" Found Still no messages on my phone. I guess he wasn’t going to call me back after all. I can’t really blame him, maybe I came on a bit too fast yesterday. I had noticed him long before he noticed me. His shiny black hair and unnatural blue eyes. I wasn’t the only one watching him, that’s for sure. His movements were elegant in a boyish way. And his smile…his smile. I would die for that smile. Still no messages… I thought about calling him, maybe apologize for going too fast yesterday. I’m a coward, I know, but I just couldn’t bring myself to dial his number. Besides he’d promised he’d contact me when he’s ready. So I’ll wait. I’m patient. I know, I’ll just casually stroll past his house. Just to see if he’s home. Maybe he’s out, that would explain why he couldn’t call me yet. He only lives half an hour away anyway. Maybe he’s shy and is scared to call me. Silly boy. I’ll go to him and tell him that he doesn’t have to be scared. That I don’t mind if he needs time. He lives pretty secluded in a farm on the outskirts of town. I can hear the sheep in the stables as I approach. My heart skips when I see there’s lights burning inside. He must be there, he told me yesterday his parents would be gone for the weekend. They left him to look after the sheep for those days. Poor baby, that must be hard work. He was probably just too busy to call me. I’ll have to stay here until his parents come back and help him take care of all those sheep. I knock on the door, but he doesn’t answer. Maybe he fell asleep. The thought of his beautiful face even more softened by sleep makes me smile. I try the door, it’s unlocked. There’s hardly any crime around here, so I guess locking the door is not needed. I try to be as quiet as possible as I sneak through the house. I want to surprise him. I cringe at every creak the stairs make as I climb them. Finally I’ve reached the bedroom and I carefully open the door. There he is, lying in bed as I thought. Quietly I switch on the nightlight on his desk so I can see his face. His blue eyes are open, staring into space and his whole face is one bloody mess. His cheeks have been carved, the skin mostly removed and hanging loose on the sides of his face. He’s missing his fingernails, they are laid out on the bed carefully arranged. On his bare chest words are carved. I look at him, my hands covering my mouth. He’s still the same as I left him yesterday. He must have been so tired that he slept all day. How cute! I softly kiss his forehead, making sure I don’t wake him. Then I write another message below the one on his chest, letting him know I’m here when he needs me. I leave the room, heading back outside. I think it’s time for the sheep to go to sleep. And tomorrow I’ll introduce myself to his parents. I’m sure they’ll love me too.
Story #3- "The Little Princess" Found Once upon a time, there was a precious little girl. Her friend the Princess of the Red Rose was always at her side. Then one day, her mummy and daddy died suddenly. The princess too disappeared, leaving the girl all alone. And the poor little girl was sent away to a strange house. At her new home, the Aristocrat Club lived by the Rule of Rose. But the girl found herself very much alone, until she discovered a wonderful new friend. The girl and her companion obeyed the Rule of Rose. For in the Aristocrat Club the Rule of Rose was absolute, as was the word of the Princess of the Red Rose. The girl obeyed the Rule of Rose, but the Countess refused to like her. The girl obeyed the Rule of Rose, but the Baroness punished her still. The girl obeyed the Rule of Rose, but the Duchess taunted her anew. And yet, the girl and her friend were still faithful to the Rule of Rose. The Princess of the Red Rose found this all very dull. And so, she issued a Rule of Rose for the final time. The girl was to sacrifice her very special friend. And when she did, she became a princess.
Mhmm :3 I read alot! My favorite author is called H.P. Lovecraft. He's very descriptive and I'm trying to adapt my writing style to something that is familiar to his, but I usually end up using too much dialogue...blah, blah, blah :0
Well, I have a story in this forum... somewhere... Don't really like it, though :/ It moves to fast :/
I try to adapt my writing style to my favourite author too, his name's Derek Landy, he wrote Skulduggery Pleasant
This next one is a personal favorite of mine. Story #4~ "The Mermaid Princess" Found A long, long time ago, the Mermaid Princess fell in love with a human prince. But for years, her love went unrequited. Before long, she was old and decrepit, all alone even on the day of her death. The poor, poor Princess of the Sea Kingdom. Who'd ever want to become an ugly woman like her? I am yours, even in death.