# data[].attributes.body
A bird landed on his shoulder, humming songs that graced his ears. Birds were his favourite of all animals, primarily due to their value in relaxation. They sang in glorious tunes, and sounds, that any animal would envy, if they could speak.

It was inside his notebook where he carefully lifted a pen, and began to sketch and write, carefully drawing, and noting down every detail of the bird that he saw, even noting down the sound that it made.

Slowly, he stood up. Smiling up at the sun, he was grateful to have found this spot in the magnificent forest, where he could sit and write all day. He then wandered away, the autumn leaves crunching underneath his heavy feet.

He wanted to stay, but he knew that he had to be back home soon, dinner was waiting on the table, and he didn't want to be late. After all, his favourite meal was being made, and although he was miles away, he could smell the warmth of the dish, which made his mouth water.

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She clung to the piece of driftwood, praying for daylight to arise, so that she wouldn't have to face it again. It was coming for her; it was going to be her death. How on earth could she escape? In all honesty she had never expected the fact that something like this would ever happen to her, because it wasn't necessarily normal for people's limbs to grow ten times the normal size, and skin to turn pale, with their personality turning into that of a blood-thirsty zombie, which then caused said monster, to eat your best friend.

Obviously, that's not normal, and yet its happening. She was called; Trinity, and to be fair she always was interested in the supernatural, but finding out that Wendigo's exist is probably the closest thing that she will get to. Not the best thing, but she was more scared that her best friend had been eaten by a Wendigo.

Finally, Trinity had landed on the shore of a certain beach, she had no idea where it was. She was just glad to be out of the situation she was in, more or less anyway.

She got up, feeling groggy and dazed, and then immediately collapsing on the beach again, she hadn't rested for ages after all, running away from monsters and all that.

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In all honesty, Irra was a curious woman. She often seemed depressed, merely by her slow, almost melancholy movements, but in reality she was happy, and elegant in the way that she spoke, almost the opposite to how she appeared.

Speaking of how she spoke, the amount of elegance that she showed in the pace, and rhythm of her speech was just glorious! She used words that would be compared to a snobby-rich person, but honestly it somehow worked with her appearance, somehow.

As someone who knew her personally, she was a magnificent human-being. Her opinions and thoughts about certain subjects were intriguing, honestly she was one of the most interesting people I'd ever met.

# data[].attributes.body
Winnie sat on the wooden chair, her head tilted up, proudly in thought and she fiddled with her hair, which hung down below her shoulders. Headphones sat on her ears, and her head bopped faintly along to a beat that no one else could hear.

Anyone could tell that she was counting her teeth, not due to distraction, but because she seemed bored, she didn't stop this, noticing that people were staring in her direction, she could care less about what people think of her! The more attention she had, the better. Her eyebrows were slightly raised in satisfaction; a clear sign that she enjoyed the music.

Her eyes stared downward at the ground, not paying attention to anyone else. Her eyes somewhat twitched, but with the way they were placed, it seemed that she was careless, and didn't notice. Something that happened quite frequently with her was she happened to gaze off into space, somewhat dissociating.

Her hands stayed in her lap, as if they were glued there, she was quite still at this time. The only movement in her hands that could be seen, was when she twiddled her thumbs, making a game of thumb-war with herself.

Her shoulders slouched down, her horrible posture shining through brighter than ever. She often got made fun of for this, but she was popular enough to not care.

Her legs were relaxed, and stayed crossed, her foot tapping to the same beat that her head was tapping to. In all honesty, no one could read her. Was she kind, bad, narcissistic? No one could tell until they spoke with her.

She popped some gum, that she had been chewing on, and slowly rose from her chair, and then, she was off.

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Kaz was standing still, looking towards the bundle of flames that used to be her friend. She breathed deeply, a lump forming her throat, preventing her from speaking. Slowly, Kaz moved depressingly towards what used to be her friend, wobbling slowly, which made her collapse onto the ground.

At a pace that could be compared to that of a turtle, she crawled over to her friend, attempting to scream, but sound refused to come out. She managed to sit up, sweat dripped down her face, as her eyes darted nowhere and everywhere all at once.

Finally, she screamed. It was ear deafening, heart wrenching. Her fist violently hammered her fist into the scorching dirt, leaving soot and burn-marks on her fist.

In a slow, and melancholy manner, she stood up, and breathed. Tears traced the structure of her face, and fell upon the floor. Raging, Hopeless, her face represented these emotions all at once. She wandered away, her movements still melancholy, and depressing, her arms still like a statue.

# data[].attributes.body
As the sun rose on Lenny's seventh birthday, a smile flew across his face, as he raced up to the kitchen with an eccentricity that could be compared to a madman having his first kill. He then stuffed his face with peanut-butter sandwiches, leaving it stained.

"No good morning?" Lenny perked up, looking at his mother with a smile that could only be compared with the joy of a five-year-old on Christmas day, which makes sense considering the similarities of one's birthday, or Christmas.

"Sorry mum," Lenny had said, kicking his feet and chuckling with the childlike wonder of a newly dubbed seven-year-old. "Can we open presents yet?" Lenny asked, staring up at is mother, his hands tapping the table with an energy of impatience. "Soon, finish breakfast first!" He never opened his presents. Because they got stolen over night. He grew up to be the most infamous birthday-present stealer in the world. All in the purpose of revenge for his birthday.

# data[].attributes.body
(SO! I chose to add more to his character, giving him an appearance description, and going into more depth of his personality, through the way he speaks, and what he wears. Thats about it.) Tenor had a refined, and almost caring face. His cheekbones were pronounced, and large. Its general shape was gaunt. His eyes were nearly as sharp as a knife, and it shone with a glorious femininity, especially when matched with the pale pink colouring that they had taken on. To make himself look beautiful, he wore heavy makeup.

His hair was shaved on the sides, and the back. It was pale pink, just like his eyes, and was pulled back using a shiny oil, that looked as if it were expensive.

His clothing was what most would consider feminine. He wore a tight, leather jumpsuit, coated in bright shades of pink and dusted with droplets of white. Its sleeves that ended in flamboyant tufts, that anyone would crave to have on their own clothing. Over this jumpsuit, he wore a puffy, shorter-sleeved fur coat, that made the heavy makeup on his face pop.

He was preforming; his voice, movements, and music had the same amount of luxuriousness that his appearance did. His voice could make anyone's heart flutter; it was deep, magical, and had a sort of genuine romance to it.

I had a chance to talk to him after the show, his voice! He had a heavy cockney accent, referring to me as "Darling." According to him, that was what he called everyone. And in his words: "Darling, calling everyone by one name is just easier. Saying darling is also just much more fabulous, don't you think?" His face fell into a grin. All I could think of was how great he was.

# data[].attributes.body
Tenor. Someone strange. His foot; tapped to the beat of the electric guitar, which was being played by his fellow bandmate; Bass. The music flowed through Tenor. As the drums kicked in; Tenor's foot, turned from a tap to a stamp, as the stage lit up, Tenor had begun to dance in an erratic lot of movements, following along to the beat. Then, Tenor woke up. Dreams of his potential future success.

He grabbed a cigarette from a small packet that was leftover in his pocket. He forgot to put on his pyjamas. For a time, he played with the lighter. He had always liked the sound of clicking it made. Finally, he lit his cigarette, and breathed in the smoke. It hung out of his mouth. A sense of calm overwhelmed him. Tenor got up to check the time on his smartphone. '11:50 AM' He slept in.

Tenor flowed over to his wardrobe. A new song idea came to mind. An upbeat and chill song, which would soon begin cascading into a serene decent, rippling with a supreme tranquillity! Glory. Tenor's art was his life, his love! It's made him live, which was truly, his favourite thing.

Then, Tenor got a call. "Hey darling. What's going on?" Tenor, called literally everyone 'Darling.' He had no other nickname for anyone. It got to the point where if more than one of his friends were in a room, you couldn't tell who he was talking to. Tenor, spoke quite fast, almost like a ramble. His voice had a deep, British accent.

"We need to have a talk."                                            "Alright. See you soon Bass." Tenor hung up the phone. He swayed in place, his right shoulder was drooped, while he took his cigarette out of his mouth using his left hand. Tenor wasn't planning on going outside today. If he were honest, he would stay inside for the rest of his life. (UNEDITED VERSION)

# data[].attributes.body
Zariel Mooncrest, sat in the middle of the room, her hands folded on her lap, thinking of Srandia Sunhide. Srandia had mutated himself, into having arms that were of monstrous size, and his legs were dying so much, that he had to use his arms to move.

Zariel was skinny, with elegant facial features, that were gaunt, and her cheekbones were pronounced. Her hair was white like snow and pulled back thoughtfully.

The place she lived was Vita Mysterium. Really, it was quite depressing, and yet thats what she loved about it. The pink of the trees, the deep blood red of the rivers, all seemed to clash with how mute the mountains were.

A crash came from outside her home, so quickly, Zariel raced out of her home, to see him; Srandia. Zariel remembered the day in a flash, the day she was forced to kill Srandia's mother.

Srandia was malicious, full of himself. He was a nasty Tea drinker! People say, that once he saved an elderly woman from a freak accident, only to kill her himself. All for the thrill of it.

Rage was all Zariel could see in Srandia's eyes. Srandia screamed, attacking with all the wrath of 7709, the night his mother died. Skeletons rose from the ground, and charged at Zariel with rage. This was her magic. In this world, emotion was how one controlled their magic.

Zariel dodged and weaved past Srandia's skeleton's, the only weapon Zariel had, was the Amulet of frost. Zariel charged her emotions, into one single attack, freezing over all the skeleton's, and crushing them to smithereens.

"I didn't want to kill your mother!" Zariel yelled. "But I had no other choice!" "You had a choice!" Srandia's voice boomed past Zariel. "But you chose to!" Zariel was beaten, Srandia's fists pounded against Zariels head, making her bleed. Srandia continued to scream, whilst Zariel slipped out of Srandia's grip, and slammed the amulet into his skull, rage covering her eyes, while Srandia fell to the ground.

Even though he was dead, Zariel kept pounding the amulet against Srandia's head, until he was unrecognisable.

Zariel laughed, she had vowed years ago that she wouldn't kill anyone else. That promise was broken fast.

# data[].attributes.headline
Eternal bliss, shattered by a haunted mind.

# data[].attributes.subject
Eternal bliss, shattered by a haunted mind.

# data[].attributes.body
The environment around me was glorious. I could live here forever, the trees shone bright with shades of red an orange, the cool breeze brushing against my neck, and birds singing symphony's that had been long forgotten.

I felt at peace here. For once in my life, everything was quiet. Everything was calm.

I closed my eyes, focusing only on my breathe. I lay down now, atop the autumn leaves. The words to my favourite poem came to mind.

Thy shall perish inside peace,

Thy shall rise atop the peak,

the peak of one's eternal bliss,

the bliss of death falling upon your kiss.

I remembered my victims, and how many times that I had widowed myself. I smile flew across my face. The peace of this place, would soon be broken, by screams that will shatter the very essence of ones being.

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Was it the knock that had woken her? Or was it the horror of expecting a visit that would never arise? Her husband had died some time ago now, and every time a knock came to her door, or a call came from her phone, she was saddened to see that it wasn't her husband. She was Gabriella, her cello sat in the middle of the room. 'He always loved when I played my cello,' Gabriella reminisced about the small songs they would play, he would sing, and she would play the Cello.

Gabriella got up from her bed, and slowly placed a hand on the door. She took a deep breathe, and quickly opened it. It was her husband's brother, Walter. "Gabriella, hi." He called out, his voice weak with depression.

# data[].attributes.body
The room had a quiet, and yet eccentric energy, with papers, and books, work and studies from ideas of individuals that have come and gone, a creatives heaven. In all honesty, this room felt a bit unorganised, as well. Similar to the desk of an individual whose mind and creativity had to be scattered across areas, similar to the desk of an author, or artist.

To be truthful, this room matched what was in my brain; none-stop running of thoughts, and constantly scatter-brained. The carpet was soft, and yet it looked like it hadn't been cleaned in decades. The room, to its right, had a few draws, open only enough to see a small crack of shadow.

Hanging hight above the room, a chalk board stood with drawings that seemed to loom over the tables that stood underneath, chairs were cuddling in close to each of them.

Speaking of the chairs; they didn't all match. Some were falling apart, and others just weren't of the same type. Organisation was clearly not this room's taste.

To the corner of the room, there was a heater. It was practically falling apart, almost as if a bomb had been dropped on top of it, the back of the heater had nearly completely fallen off! I was surprised that it even worked to be honest.

# data[].attributes.body
To be fair, Rose had earned this. She was lying on a chair, on the shores of sunny Hamilton Island, with an ice-cold drink of Coola-Cola. The best cola brand. The beach of the island was peaceful, the waves crashed across the hot, sandy beach. Rose sipped her cola, the coolness washing over her, curing the sweat that had dripped off of her face. The sun shone high. 'This is the best' Rose thought.

Rose had been working for ages, without a break, so she needed this.

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A chain was placed around Derrian's neck. The room was pitch black, and the walls were made from a strong metal. Derrian looked around frantically, but it was too dark to see anything. Derrian's heart began to thump in his chest, slowly, then quickly; 1... 2... 3... 4... Derrian continued to count. 1, 2 ,3 4. It grew faster, it wouldn't stop.

Derrian's breathe grew sharp and fast as he felt the heat in the room grow, making enough sweat to flood the room. Panic grew more in his thoughts, and anxiety choked him.

The heat in the room only grew more and more, causing him to feel as if he were dying. He felt that he should just try to relax, he tried to slow his breath. Finally, he was calm. The calm didn't last long, when he then felt the room closing in on him.

He felt his body being squashed; his panic only returned fiercer when he could feel his bones snapping in two. He screeched in pain, waiting for death.

# data[].attributes.body
Derrian was stuck. The room was small. His heart begins to race as the realisation that he is trapped sinks deep into his skin. What the hell? It was as if his sight had been stripped from him, and his breathe was the only thing he could hear. The room began to heat up, it felt as if he were in an oven, being cooked alive as his sweat dripped off of his head, and down into his mouth. This was the only thing keeping him hydrated. He had to calm down, but how could he? His breath sped, along with his heartbeat, and panic continued to rise up into his throat, choking him with fear. His eyes darted from left to right, its not as if it would help, he couldn't see after all. The heat inside the room rose, and the walls of the room began to close in on him. Panic continued, as he felt his bones beginning to crack from the pressure of the walls closing in on each other, his breathe was ruined, and he would surely perish.

# data[].attributes.body
Billy bob the third was an evil man with his hands in his pockets all the time some people think that he doesn't have hands. He rarely ever talks just nods his head up and down. his hair was dark like a void and was very oily like he had not washed it in years. small buzzing flies always follow him around like it's his pets. He always, always loved bugs. Ever since he was small, he would often survive nasty stings, hoping to get super-powers. That never happened. It is for this reason, people had called him evil. Why would someone do that to themselves?

Well, to be fair that wasn't the only reason. The poor man got in hospital from the bites so much, that he resorted to forcing people to get bitten, by the most venomous, and dangerous bugs in the world! Hoping that he might just find the right person to discover the "SUPER POWER BUG!" he called it. He always had to write it in capitalised letters, otherwise it wouldn't be, the "SUPER POWER BUG!"

Obviously, there was something that stumped him. Why did these bugs follow him? I mean, with how many stings this man suffered, he practically limped most of the time, so why? One fateful day, he came to the conclusion that the insect god Bee-elzeebuzz gifted him with the strange power of; Bugs that will follow you literally everywhere. A strange power, but Billy Bob the Third was quite glad that he had these powers.

To be fully honest, these powers were useless. I, am not only a narrator, but I am also, Billy Bob the Fourth. This was my father, and I too have these same powers. Anyway, I am telling this story of my father so be quiet.

# data[].attributes.body
Danielle was a charming, and yet malicious man. He didn't walk, but instead chose to strut, with his head held hight as he saw it to be a sign of his magnificent appearance. He had a tall stance, that he used to tower over, or intimidate those he didn't care for. He often used words like "God" when he was surprised, or "Darling" to address a friend or loved one.

The way he spoke was just as charming as his movement. Every word that he spoke flowed out of his mouth, sounding like a symphony of sounds that even the gods would be grateful to hear. While he spoke, he often snapped his fingers to bring a point forward to the person he was speaking to.

He never liked to talk with his hands, as many people do. Instead, he settled for facial expressions, that were somewhat eccentric when compared to his rich, and flamboyant appearance. His eyes often fluttered as if they were butterflies, glued firmly onto his face.

He was rhythmic when he walked, often following along to an imaginary beat he played in his head.

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Lament wandered through the town which she had once loved. What was once bright and colourful in her childhood; was now dark and grim. Tears dripped down her face. 'How could I be worthy of love?' Lament thought. Lament's heart had always felt as if it had a weight, which pulled her down. Her eyes shared a story that told tales of madness, and depression. Her face was gaunt, and her body thin.

Lament, breathed. Her heart soon began to beat faster, her eyes darted from left to right, panicking. Her breath grew heavy, and she crouched in a pose, which covered her head. She screamed. The voices of her past, the people who screamed at her, abused her, rang in her mind, bringing her back to a place of madness and depression that she thought she had left for good.

She was fine. She breathed and stood up. Her thoughts then travelled to a dark place. She hated those thoughts, she didn't want to leave her family, but at the same time; this madness was too much to bear.

"Lament, are you alright?" Lament looked up, "Yes?" Lament asked John. "You, need to get the help you need. I'll get you a good psychologist. Don't worry." Help? Lament never felt that she needed help. Psychologists just wouldn't understand! They wouldn't know how to help her. No one could.

Lament stared blankly at John. "I'm fine. Trust me, I can deal with it." John had just sat through Lament's panic attack, hearing all her screams of distress. That was pain.

# data[].attributes.body
I awoke. My sight had always been horrible, seeing as I'm blind. I had known my house like the back of my hand, everything had its place. It was like memorising an environment; over time you will remember where everything is, and you'll just... know. It's just like that, really.

I crawled out of my bed, rubbing the back of my neck. I could feel the hairs on the back of my head; they were rough, and short. I stood up. The scent of bacon and eggs being cooked by my mother hit my nostrils, making me drool.

I felt the carpet from underneath my feet. It was soft, and warm. I wanted to stay there forever. Knowing where my door was, I went to it; being careful not to run into anything. I placed my hand on the door; every little scratch, and mark left in the wood of the door ran across my finger's. It was rough. Finally, my hand landed on the doorhandle. It was cold, which made me shiver. I opened the door, slowly. The scent of breakfast became stronger.

I could hear the sound of the dishes clanking together. It made me jump. Dad was washing them. And, once again; he was carelessly shoving them into the dishwasher. That was dad. Sound had always irritated me, even sounds that seemed quiet to some people, felt like it was being spoken through a speaker for me. I had learnt a long time ago to visualise my house's layout inside my head. It helped me get around it, like from my room to the kitchen.

This was my life. It doesn't bother me, do be honest it never has. I'll live with it though; I always have.

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The rain hammered on the concreate outside Emily's house. Emily had always loved the rain. It had lulled her to sleep in tough times, cooled her down after a hot day. It was, glorious.

Emily skipped outside a large grin stretched ear to ear across her face. Emily stretched out her arms and looked up into the sky. The hard, cold wind blew her backward a little, shocking her. While Emily wandered around across the road to the store, the wind blew her in the opposite direction, which shook her generally strong, and steady stance.

She was lively. Her movements had always been a sort of, springy and rhythmic; like a cartoon, but it had looked more vibrant due to the wind, and rain shoving her around. Her personality had always matched her movements. Emily had primarily spoke with her hands, following every word with a set eccentric hand movement's. Emily always seemed to be happy, even if she was feeling upset. She didn't want anyone to worry about her, because then she'd be their burden. Rain was also her escape.

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I sat in the forest. The autumn leaves fell, coating the ground in a grand lot of orange, yellow and red. I gripped my bow in my hand, preparing an arrow for a deer, which was grazing. I sniffed the air, and leaves blew past me, dancing in the wind.

It was calm here. Not dangerous, I didn't have to be forced to fight. I was calm. They can't hurt me here. The sun rose over the lush and orange sky. I aimed the arrow, perfectly. 'Let it fly' the words rang in my head. That cruel dictator scum. I released the arrow. My eyes were closed. I was fine.

As I opened my eyes, the silhouette of a man appeared in front of me. I... I missed the deer! I screamed. My body began to collapse, and I sobbed. I didn't mean to kill him! It wasn't my fault! If I didn't, I'd be dead!

I felt a hand on my shoulder, and shot a stare at whoever it was. It was Lila. I'm fine. I'm fine.

I stood up. It was just the deer. Just the deer. I calmly picked up the deer. As I stared to the distance, the sun had fully risen.

I am fine.

# data[].attributes.body
Olivia wandered through the old, ruined home. The old and dusty floorboards creaked with every step she took. She looked around, the walls had old curtains, that had been ripped and torn to the point of no return. Dust had covered every inch of the house, and travelled through the air, and up the long and narrow staircase which had led to the second floor. She creeped through the home, up those same stairs. Her chest felt as if it had begun to swell, her breathe became heavy, and her eyes darted from one end of the room to the other.

She smelled the air. The scent was easily compared to that of dried blood, or a rotting corpse. She was having second thoughts. She had to push on. Olivia placed her hand on the frame of the stairs, so that she would be held up. Dust, more dust.  She quickly, lifted her hand in disgust, everything had to be clean. As Olivia lifted her hand to her face, there wasn't dust, there was blood. The memory rang in her mind, and in front of her was a bloodied figure. "Olivia, why didn't you save me? Why?" Olivia's mind was bombarded with thoughts, and regrets of what she'd done. Of what happened to her. Filled with fear, she ran backwards, screaming "I tried Johnothan! I tried!"

She began to bang at the door, crying as she collapsed onto the floor

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A symbolic and yet storytelling scar; stretched across his chest. It was as if it was the path of a treasure map. He felt that it was the story of his life, a mere memento, of a peak moment of freedom in his life. He knew that it represented the pain and joy he felt on this life he had lived. A rollercoaster of emotion, having to meet people, and say goodbye to them; time, and time again; it was what made him who is today, and he was fine with that.

As the scar continued down his chest, it stretched to his back, where it was crude and disfigured. The scar had come back around to reach the beginning of the first scar, which had made it come together in a full circle. The scar at the back, he had a distaste for, as it was the embodiment of his pure tragedy. Tragedy to him wasn't pain, no, it was death. The death of his own mind and mentality, the thing that would drive him mad.

# data[].attributes.body
I looked up at the sun. Finally. After a full day of rain hammering down on my backyard, the sun had finally shone through the grey clouds. I wandered outside. The scent of the flowers hit my nostrils. They were pleasant. I had been through so much. I have recovered from my pain, and trauma. I'm strong.

I love the sun. The weather is beautiful. I chose to lay down on the grass. It felt comforting. I loved it. I smiled. Often I did enjoy the simple pleasures in life. This was the best.

# data[].attributes.body
An indigenous sight. We needed to get through it. It was the sight of the latest build, of an indigenous town's latest powerplant! Wonderful. This would generate energy from right here, to halfway across the country! Besides, it was a recourse jackpot, filled with amethyst, and ruby. Glorious. How much money will I make from this? So many business opportunities!

My intern, tapped me on the shoulder. "Mr. Locke, are you sure about this. This is a religious sight, the local people will," I rose my hand in front of her face. "Do not worry, you and I will both make a lifetime of money off of this! And..." I rolled my eyes. "...the locals will get their power, and lighting back. So what if we tear down a few religious sights." The intern looked as if she were about to talk back. I shot her a stare, and she backed away.

I looked to my partner, and cued him to begin the destruction.
We had placed dynamite all over the place, so we would be able to just blow it up, and be done with it. As the dynamite blew up, I chuckled a little, thinking of the fame and success I would have.

As I stepped forward to where the site was, crystals that had erupted from the ground, glimmered in the sunlight. It was, beautiful. "Good job team!" I shouted from the rubble. "Begin construction! And get the locals over here, they will love our progress!"

The locals arrived. Finally. I walked over to them, wearing my best smile. Something was wrong. They seemed upset. Maybe they were just, in awe of the future achievements that this powerplant would bring, great. "Now, I know its a lot," I said wrapping my arm around an old lady that was in the crowd, "But this is the future. The powerplant will be there, and over there to the left, will be a," the old hag shoved me onto the ground. I didn't even finish my sentence! She made my suit dirty, and ruined my makeup!

"What is wrong with you? I am helping you and your people. And you repay me with a shove?" I am just fuming right now. Is this how I am rewarded?