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Restoration attempt idea: Do you think I should maybe reformat it and get rid of the old stuff (or maybe put it in an inactive box or smth)? Then possibly inv some ppl Ik and get this back up and running?

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Restoration attempt idea: Do you think I should maybe reformat it and get rid of the old stuff (or maybe put it in an inactive box or smth)? Then possibly inv some ppl Ik and get this back up and running?

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Also, heads up, I have a habit of ghosting during March and April, so, if I remember, I'll try to set things up in advance (hence the introduction of seasonal challenges instead of monthly challenges). I also likely won't be very active next month due to theatre competitions, and May due to AP exams and Finals. I'll try to be active, but I put this disclaimer so that it doesn't look like I've ghosted y'all again.

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Are there any creative outlets that you think I should add?

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Monthly Challenges or Seasonal Challenges?

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Happy (belated) New Years! The 2025 season is now closed, and we are welcoming the 2026 season. With this, of course comes new things, such as seasonal celebrations. I've been very tardy regarding these monthly challenges, so I've decided to keep them up season long (3 months) with this being a beta test. Even if this crashes and burns, consider it a New Year's gift from yours truly. Please let me know how you like it and any way I can improve this padlet for the 2026 New Year.

1. Write a poem about new beginnings for New Years

2. Write a science fiction story or draw a scene full of scientific fiction themes

3. Create a song or beat and dedicate it to victims of human trafficking to spread awareness or donate some of the profit to human trafficking prevention organizations for National Human Trafficking Prevention Monthly

4. Write a story educating others on any form of historical slavery that had major negative impacts on the victims (such as but certainly not limited to: slavery in the U.S, Britain, and France, sexual slavery in South Korea ("comfort women") for National Slavery Prevention Month

5. For National Mentoring Month, create an infographic, diagram, illustration, or essay on a topic you deem important (bonus if it could be used as study materials for stories)

6. Create a beat, write a poem, or stitch a cover/quilt that portrays the warm feelings you get from eating soup or oatmeal for National Soup Month

7. Write a second person multi-part cooking short story for National Slow Cooking Month (for a bit of a demonstration, you could give the readers a few ingredients, and what they pick out of those ingredients determines their next ingredients. In the end, they end up creating a dish and eating it. Describe the taste. And, just a disclaimer, the one who makes the dish doesn't have to survive their concoction)

8. Write a coming of age story for New Years

9. For National Hobby Month, tell us about your quirks and hobbies under the "Members" section

10. Write an isekai short story about someone falling into a world completely different than their own to celebrate the New Year

Anddd, as always, you can do challenges directly from our beloved (and not sponsered) friend RanGen

Post your submission under this post with its title and "| 2025(6) Winter Celebration" after it.

As always, good luck and happy creating!

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I thought it would only affect my post haha 😅

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What does it mean to love?

What does it mean to lie?

One day, I gave you the strings of my heart to tie

You pulled on my strings as you walked away

Holding on tightly as you made your escape

From me

And I'll pretend you don't exist

That I don't feel that tug when I reminisce

Or when I see if you text

And so I put myself in time out

And pretend you're as meaningless as the next

What does it mean to love?

But what does it mean to live?

Under your care, never remiss

Yet it was the dignity of a human soul

And my dignity wishes when you grow old

You'll never change

For my hand's outreached from your strings

Holding it out like The Creation of Adam

Dragging me along

The birth of something new

Sprouted from what was thought to be dead

At least I'm sure there was something wrong with my head

For 9 months is only a breath in 89 years

And every tear that was wept

Sprouted from here

Tied into a bundle

And named a "Bouquet"

Full of lotuses and lavender

Peony and chrysanthemum

And sunflowers

I dared to dream of a world that was ours

For the strings made constellations

Defined my star system

Big Dipper, Cygnus

All within a touch

A pull of the string

From the one who made my heart sing

And my brain mend

And once I dared to dream

I knew it was all worth it in the end

Only it was I who tied

The strings of your words

Onto my heart

And your words forever pull at my strings

Even in your absence

Date: 12/15/25, 11:31 PM

By: Cynclare Mitchell

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⋆𐙚❅*°⋆❆.ೃ࿔*: Cool Winter Frostbite - December Monthly Challenge ⋆꙳•❅‧*₊⋆☃︎‧*❆₊⋆

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⋆𐙚❅*°⋆❆.ೃ࿔*: Cool Winter Frostbite - December Monthly Challenge ⋆꙳•❅‧*₊⋆☃︎‧*❆₊⋆

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Merry (belated) Christmas and Happy Holidays! Not ready to leave behind the spirit of Christmas? You don't have to! Due to my lateness, these challenges are not "Christmas" challenges, but "Winter" challenges you can take with you all season long (until the end of February). So, don't throw away your ugly Christmas sweaters or your Christmas tree, because I have one more gift from me to you.

1. Write an acrostic poem that spells out a word in another language for learn a foriegn language month

2. Draw a picture or make an advertise for adopting dogs Operation Santa Paws

3. Make a song to bring attention to a cause of your choice for universal human rights month

4. Take a series of photos of vegetation and fruits for root vegetables and exotic fruit month

5. Design your own tie with designs that dhow what winter means to you for national tie month

6. Write a short story about hallucinations while on drugs for National Drunk and Drugged Driving Prevention Month

7. Knit an ugly Christmas sweater, or make your own DIY ornament

8. Produce a Christmas themed beat, or make a beat as a Christmas present for someone

9. Model your favorite winter outfit

10. Write a short story about one of Santa's reindeer

11. Take a photograph, make a beat, draw a picture, or write a song, poem, comic, or short story to capture the warmth and feativity of Christmas time/winter

Anddd, as always, you can do challenges directly from our beloved RanGen

Post your submission under this post with its title and "| 2025(6) Winter Celebration" after it.

As always, good luck and happy creating!

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Status: Inactive due to midterms/ACPs/Benchmarks 

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Status: Inactive due to midterms/ACPs/Benchmarks 

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Upcoming hiatuses: Will likely be inactive in May due to AP testing.

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December Monthly Challenge will extend all the way to February, ending there. In other words, December and January's Monthly Challenges will happen at the same times as an apology.

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Extended Play (scene), "You Who Showed me the Stars" posted now.

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Extended Play (scene), "You Who Showed me the Stars" posted now.

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You can find it in the padlet under the section "'Beyond Love: Center Stage' - Soul."

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Currently working on: First chapter; character information

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Notice: I have an old Serendipitous Daydream Discord server that I had to halt the production of after losing contact with the person who made it. Anyone who knows how to make or manage Discord servers' help would be greatly appreciated.

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Notice: I have an old Serendipitous Daydream Discord server that I had to halt the production of after losing contact with the person who made it. Anyone who knows how to make or manage Discord servers' help would be greatly appreciated.

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poem I made last night at around 2:4smth am in my head while trying not to do anything i would regret....... #mentallyunstable :'>

I always wondered what would happen

watching the small gasps of air dissipate

their life flashing before their eyes

before finally collapsing against the cool inviting earth

What would their last thoughts be?

Friends?

Family?

Love?

Their strengths?

Their weaknesses?

Their hopes?

Their dreams?

What lead them to this moment

Where they try to cling onto life

or let death's cold crisp hands take them away

Their last moment of seeing the sun

Their last moment of seeing the moon

Their last fleeting seconds on the face of the earth

Why were they not allowed to live?

Why were they allowed the sweet release of death?

Only one way to find out.

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Should I make a dedicated Serendipitous Daydream account and have seperate padlets dedicated to specific creative works (ex: all literary works pad, drawing and fashion pad, music pad, etc.)

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Thinking of what every other year was like, and how this one is going to be like.

The lights are up, the tree is trimmed,
My Christmas spirit, feeling dimmed.
For Santa's scales are tipped, I fear,
Another year, the same old gear.

My brother, who turns just eight,
But in the gift count, he's first rate.
He rips through paper, fast and loud,
A king among the present crowd.

A remote control car, a shiny bike,
More toys than any kid would like.
He giggles, beams, and shouts with glee,
"Look what I got! And me! And me!"

And me? A sweater, soft and gray,
"For growing into," Mom will say.
A book to read, a little cash,
My Christmas wishes turn to ash.

I know I'm older, thirteen's tough,
But "practical" is getting rough.
They say it's not about the stuff,
But, come on, Santa, enough's enough.

Next year I'll write a longer list,
Maybe my wishes won't be missed.
For now, I'll smile, and watch him play,
And dream of my own Christmas Day.

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Uhhhh HIII IM SOPH/SKITS :D

ALL THOSE IMAGES ARE PHOTOS OF MY BADDI MISS HEED FROM THE SHOW VILLAINOUS

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HAI PERSON READING THIS IM MENTALLY DERANGED! :3
Uhhh I talk a lot and sometimes don't know when to shut up so if I'm being annoying, just tell me! 

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uhhh I mask a ton so mainly copying others ;_; but I'm normally energetic :333333

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they/she
omnisexual (pan (all) with a preference)

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MBTI - ENFP
Uhhh I forgot my enneagram TT

# data[].attributes.custom_properties.y0g50mt8
- Doodling
- Writing poems
- Sleeping
- Vibe coding (new)
- Listening to music
- Singing
- P O I S O N O U S  P L A N T S  AND  P O I S O N
- Roleplaying
- Making OCs

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Notice: post deleted. Please ask for a place (or promote in the chat) to promote your chatting padlets before posting them here. 

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Notice: post deleted. Please ask for a place (or promote in the chat) to promote your chatting padlets before posting them here. 

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This section is temporary, and only for the current reconstruction progress.

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This section is temporary, and only for the current reconstruction progress.

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Please post your thoughts about ways to remodel this padlet.

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Constructive criticism is allowed at the consent of the writer. Please place your consent under here.

Writers, don't start drama if you have knowingly and willingly placed your consent in the comments under this post.

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https://docs.google.com/document/d/1lFteH9Pg898aFXIUeofah4NZaaSFUqZwf9pTf523Mwc/edit?usp=drivesdk

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Status: Only China and Italy are extensively researched.

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This is the academic side of this padlet. You can post anything you've researched for a story and save others the hard work

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This is the academic side of this padlet. You can post anything you've researched for a story and save others the hard work

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The purpose of this section is to advertise any websites or apps that the users of this padlet can also post their creative work on. 

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The purpose of this section is to advertise any websites or apps that the users of this padlet can also post their creative work on. 

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Notice: Please do include specific things the website allows and doesn't (for example: AO3, otherwise known as Archive of Our Own, allows for creating but only fanfics, fanart, podfic, and fan videos).

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There's no easy way to see the light.

It takes a sacrifice to truly see it,

And sacrifices are hard to make when everything's already been stripped from you.

You can spend your whole life striving and trying

with no guarantee you'll get it back.

So why take the risk?

You've known this all your life

it's the closest thing to your "intact".

Since there's no hope,

that life won't be as bad.

Humans are beings of comfort.

They crave it, they need it,

and become paralyzed when they don't get it

In their darkest hours.

Every hour afterwards becomes a dark hour

Every glimmer of light----a lie

A charade, because how could anything ever be

a lighter shade?

There is no hope,

and for some, nothing to lose

So they go about life in a loose way

Not realizing they're bruised

And pushing others away

With tactics meant to keep them(self) safe

Because life is simply a game we play,

and they're on their last limbs----

----trying to stay awake

They're asleep to the light

until something gives them hope

and when that goes?

No one knows.

Date: 10/16/24

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Just how many lives will it take for you- to get it?

We're not just statical means

Or stats on a screen

And people don't care because it- "doesn't effect them"

Not all who are blind can't see

You only see partially

With silk pressed to your eyes

Tightly

Don't see how immigrants provide to- the economy

Or SNAP benefits don't just keep us- from starving

It keeps you from being hungry

It keeps us feeding

And you're just feeding

What you've been given

Never thought to bite the hand

That feeds rat poison to your children

Because we could've been living

In a world with free healthcare

Richest country in the world but that

Money goes where?

We could be without homeless on the- streets

But we got people begging on their- knees

Asking me for money

But I have none to spare

Because you haven't paid back my kind

For the pain that we bear.

Because we could've been living

In a country with equal rights

Concerned about us bringing people- into this world

(A pain no one should endure)

But not concerned with keeping us alive

But what's it mean to you

If families can't thrive

With an additional mouth to feed

Or two less

Numbers don't deserve empathy

So you lead others here

With the stench of the American Dream

And bound them in chains

Separate families

Because we don't deserve to think

Or dream

And we're just mice stuck in a cat's cage

When we're just statistics on a screen

Because we could've been living

But we're living under

Dunning-Kruger

Because not all who are blind can't see

You only see partially

With silk pressed to your eyes

Tightly

Blinding

So much so that I can't tell

If it's saving or dragging you(us) down

To insanity

Date: 10/24/25

By: Sinclair Mitchell

About: Put simply, I chose a bad time to get into politics.

Inspiration: https://youtube.com/shorts/AOC6CMZ3jd8?si=nqhKIEm9SHnq9TQ9

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Hello fellow readers and writers!

Have you ever felt insane? Went insane? Seen insanity? I've been through all 3, and it's not fun! So, why not vent your frustrations via this challenge? You can, if you dare. Just make sure to grasp your sanity by March 31st. If you don't, well, I can't guarantee what may happen to ya. Good luck I guess?

1. Write a story that takes place completely inside the mind of someone who went insane. Them reflecting on past events is allowed. The character can be fictional, realistic, yours or someone else's. [short story, fictional diary entry, play, narrative poem]

2. Write a psychological thriller/horror with the Main Character being an unreliable narrator who's absolutely fucked up in the head. If you take this option, you must post two submissions. One being the original with the unreliable narrator, the other being what actually happened or an analysis of what actually happened in the POV of a reliable narrator. [short story, story, play]

3. Produce a beat or song that has a huge element of insanity in it (I imagine this one would be kind of hard, specifically the beat. I would recommend taking inspiration from ambient tracks that turn an emotion into a beat, add in whispers or voices to whatever track you make, or try to create a melody that sounds eerie or insane)

4. Write a dialogue between two people, one of them talking about something someone insane did to them or what drove them (the first person) insane. The other person will react/respond in some way to this (any way you choose). This discussion can be imaginary and/or a dream (to the main character), be something the main character reflected upon, or it can be in real time. [short story, fictional diary entry, poem, song, script]

Optional additions

Make a cover design for your choice?

Choose one of the choices for this month, and convert it into visual art (drawing, painting, etc.) [Youth Art Month]

Say your visual art has a person in it, give them a silly or maybe dignified mustache. Why? Why not! [Mustache March]

Is your main character female? Have a female character in your story? Well, show them some love and add in a few fun facts about women's history [Women's History Month]

Who doesn't love a character on their deathbed? Say your Main Character has been through a lot. What if their past has something to do with brain tumors or colon cancer? What if they have it? What if they did something twisted because of that? Sounds good? Write it! [Brain Tumor Awareness Month, National Colon Cancer Awareness Month]

Last but not least, who doesn't love Ireland and America! Add in a bit of Saint Patrick's Day, make an Irish or/and Irish-American character, or maybe come up with a twisted contribution they made that messed your character up (sorry Ireland, you got a rough month). [Irish Heritage Month, Irish-American Heritage Month]

Make a collaboration with May's Mental Health Awareness Month and add in a part two showing your character's some compassion and watching them get better! Wholesome, right? Or, you could you could write a comforting beat/song to contrast that insane one! Just make sure to let March have its moment and save that for May [collaboration with Mental Health Awareness Month]

You can also collaborate with the website that inspired the Monthly Challenges and do theirs as well! Make sure to show them some love!

Can't choose? Pick your choices and let this website break the tie!

Post your submission under this post with its title and "| 2024 March Submission" after it

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Unfinished stories that are without sequel (next chapter, next part, etc.) for a year, and stories in which the author's account is no longer active will be deleted (if I have your contact information, I will contact you first). I will contact those with socials before deleting the stories. Please @ me your socials. If you don't want your story deleted, please let me know or send proof of yourself working on these stories.

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This rule will be applicable to myself as well.

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I'll try to work on remodelling this padlet between 9:00 AM - 10:40 AM on Tuesdays, Thursdays and every other Friday during the first semester. This is because the class I have is sometimes a free period, but it's only a semester class. Next semester, I'll have an AP class for this period (pray for me)

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Admin/owner

# data[].attributes.custom_properties.0Cd64FMw
I have the social skills of a scared puppy. If I randomly ghost, it's not you, it's me (no joke; very bad habit of mine). Tendency to take social breaks March - April (and likely May too due to AP testing). I'm very creative with a rather dark sense of humor and odd triggers (conflict, and, specifically, someone I barely know confessing their feelings to me. Please do not, seriously, I'm trying to wean off of cursing :sob:). I've made one or two serious enemies throughout my Pad career, so please don't be surprised if I ask about the names of your friends. Drama free for 2 ears tho ✌ I can't take horror at all, and I suck at talking about myself.

# data[].attributes.custom_properties.94bNpqKQ
I suck at describing myself so it's probably best I let someone else describe me? I believe it's probably pretty unanimous that I'm introverted (I just somewhat know how to appear extroverted), somewhat shy when meeting new people, and creative. I have a tendency to discover something and become mildly infatuated with it, particularly in music and have a whole playlist documenting these obsessions (current obsession: Alien Stage)

# data[].attributes.custom_properties.nB-fOits
MBTI: IXFP (I have successfully been typed as all IPs (mainly ISFP, INFP, and ISTP), IXFJ, INTJ, ENTJ, ESXP, ENFP, and ESFJ at the very least.... buttttt IXFP is most accurate)
Enneagram: Sx/Sp 4, 4w5, 459 (I have very 6ish tendencies though)
Socionics: EII
Attitudinal Psyche: VLEF-2233 (though more recently I was typed as an EVLF-1214, and I'm still coming to terms with the fact that that's likely more accurate)
Big5/OCEAN: RLUEN
Favorite websites: sociotype.xyz rangen.co.uk Pinterest thesaurus.com

# data[].attributes.custom_properties.y0g50mt8
I write stories and poems. Certified unprofessional novice at drawing. I do photography, and work on BandLab projects once every other blue moon. I love to listen to music and read (books and foreign comics), and translate foreign songs for fun. I'm easing myself back into typology (skilled(?) at MBTI, getting into Enneagram. Maybe Socionics next?). I'm interested in cooking, and never fail to burn the food. I'm currently learning Spanish (class), and Korean (writing specifically), and I plan on learning Swahili. Chose a very bad time to get into politics 😮‍💨

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a story following Callum and many side characters

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oh, oh her
her eyes are so lovely
and her voice is my heaven
she wanted my hand in marriage
but I said no
I was scared
scared of commitment
I hurt her
I didn't want to
never to hurt her
forever loving her

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5/13/24

if i were to find a new world, and i could build a life from what i've missed, canel all the trauma and ecperiences and bring lihght t the good in people, would i be loved and rememberesd? most people know the bad guy as the examples not to follow, as they are the reason we have rules. but if i made a world void of rules, the world would complain about evil. then i would have to make a world where evil can't tthrive, many rules. and itll be just like earth. humans just cant keep paradise.
whats the point of making a land to rule if all is free? no monarchy in a rulle free place. no monarchy to worship, no religion or beleifs as they have rule to them. no need. if i could live a life void of ruules and void of evil, i'd have to live alone. as i am te evil, i am why we have rules. I would corrupt the free by making rules in a facade of help, and a shroud of mystery. i would be a bad example. and i do not wish that. so I fear i would live a life completely alone if i was given a "free" land to roam.
Nothhing is ever really free.yu always have to earn things first before you can get whats free. Life itself is free, but its a "pay to win" type game. there are certain items only gained by aquiring and paying. and if you dont have said item, or the cheat code, youre screwed. you see, life itself is free, and it dsent cost to pay the "free trial". the free trial is short and sometimes, inconvenient, unless you can get ar enough to join another player ad let them share the payed versoion. The free life is plaed on time. and time is not free or gained. you get your allotted amount in the beginning at birth if you've exceeded that amount, youre living on borrowed time. time is the most valuable asset to a human. one might think its a tangible recourse such as air, food, water, or gold. but no matter how many rare recources youve gained and aquired, time will always be at the most important. as it is intangible, and it slips through your hands if you ever try to catch it. you ccant get it back, and once its gone, you can never earn it again. unlike tangible possessions, time is a really valuable recource to have.
Youve heard about Father Time and Mother Nature. they go hand in hand as theyve creted everything from the base up. Father time and his endless patience, and Mother Nature wit her unwavering love and support. if you take a moment to observe, you see Father Time with Mother Nature. if yuo watch a plant grow from a sapling to a tree, a kit to a vixen. watch a child grow, holding their parents' hands. Father Time, Mother Nature. Caring mother, Patient father.
Time dosent just afect living things. it effects decaying matter, and stone. the canyons we see of long winds and heavy glaciers. the resivoires and deltas of flowing water. water flowing through the crack of stone like sand in an hourglass. weaving away to deposit in a new place, just to shift later on to something unrecognizable to the human eye. you cant see a tree grow if you watch everyy single day. the changes are so small, but if yu watch lng enough, over a long amount of time, its a big chnage, just like erosion and deposition. slowly shifting and building contenants, like every page i wriite, a few small words might not be much, but an entire paragraph, a page, a story, a trilogy, a new rule. this is the creation of rule. where i am the observer. teller of why we have rules. but dont expect this book of seemingly nothingness to be about me and rules. you must find them , like a game. become a kid again. find the childghood you missed, become free again in each page. ignore your rules, become immersed in words. Publish.

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i love you
im happy youre happy
without me
buried deep in my heart
and in the earth
you were lovely
so sweet
id confess but
thats wrong

i love you
and im glad youre sleeping
you needed it
a rest
a sleep
darling

i love you

you told yourself you were worthy of what happened

you were not

you deserved better

you NEEDED better

darling

sweet sweet child

i love you

for you

for YOU

i miss you

all of you

in my arms

on my skin

in my heart

# data[].attributes.custom_properties.lJsnqXd0
this is inspired by "i could have sworn you were dead" by dandelion hands.

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Announcement: New Disc Server Invite Link

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Announcement: New Disc Server Invite Link

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https://discord.com/invite/ZeRrKaZM

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"Thank you for being the fatality of my hollow desires. " | Beyond Love: Center Stage 

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"Thank you for being the fatality of my hollow desires. " | Beyond Love: Center Stage 

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"I'm gonna make you love me!"

Cavalli Moro is a 16 year old cloudgender living on the streets of 2023 Como, [Northern] Italy. Desperate, they breakdance in order to get themself and their friends off the streets. However, this is not the only reason they need a place to stay. They want this so they cannot only remain "MISSING", but also so that they can escape their rapist and stalker: Innocenzo Lombardi.

In [Dashanzi] Beijing, China there are a group of performers with a long history bound to end at any moment. They're desperate for one more member to possibly light the way. Led by their leader, Shěn Qiang, they take their first break in years at Como, Italy, but meet Cavalli Moro, who's their first breath of fresh air in years.

When desperation meets two mirrors, there is bound to be a mess.

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Series
Book 1 in the "Beyond" series

Almost Chosen Names
Beyond Love: Diehard Fan
Beyond Love: Obsession
Beyond Love: Hunted
Diehard Fan
Center Stage
New Life Setback

Genre
Realistic Fiction
Main genres: Psychological (main genre),  Entertainment Industry, rise to fame, LGBTQ+
Subgenres/plots: Romance, mystery

Inspired By/Based Off Of
Oshi No Ko

Can Be Found On
Padlet
Docs

Status
Planning
Writing Status: last research stages of development. Refining characters

Warnings

This story contains:

Abuse | planned

Mentions of abuse

Manipulation | planned

Stalking

Sexual abuse

Mentions of sexual abuse

Obsession

Kidnap

And unwritten stuff

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Notice: This story will likely be edited as I write it, solely due to the fact that I haven't written a full blown story in a year. Please bear with me, and be patient regarding the quality of this story. 

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"I'll hurt you.

I'll break you.

I'll betray you.

I make you wonder why you trusted me.

Why did you trust me?

I'm a liar.

A cheater.

A playboy.

You're nothing but a pawn in the game I was forced to play.

Why did you decide to stay?

Why did you decide to stay?

I'm breaking all my boundaries.

I'm breaking all your boundaries.

I promised myself I'd never hurt you.

I lied to myself.

I care about you.

I want to protect you.

I want to break you

In your deepest despair.

I want you to run away from me

I beg you- run into a distant land.

I want to comfort you

Protect your heart-

You from everyone's hands

I want to cause you trauma

And make sure you know it was no mistake

When you're hurt, beaten and bruised

I want to protect you,

I want to heal you,

I want to mend you.

I want to break you.

I want you to learn a lesson

From all this heartbreak.

I want to destroy me

Because I want to destroy you

I want to crush you until you're nothing but dust.

Shatter myself,

Putting only the good parts back together

I'll add water,

Molding you back into what you once were

I'll cut you off from me,

For your safety,

For your protection,

I'll break anything we once had.

Even if you're deranged enough to still love me

I'll hurt you

To protect you.

But remember...

It's all in the name of love."

Date: 11/16/22

Date posted: 8:20 AM, 3/26/24

By: Soul/Echo

Based off of: Heartbreak Bound

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This is where you write a bit about yourself, as a fan or as a creator

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This is where you write a bit about yourself, as a fan or as a creator

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Hello fellow readers and writers! This is Myth, the owner of this Padlet, and I'm writing this to tell you about an exciting new update I've thought through.

You may've noticed that the 2024 March Monthly Challenge, the current monthly challenge, only has four options. Now, originally, this was just me being too tired to come up with the rest. Once Spring break rolled around, I thought I would come up with more, but did not (despite psychological being a genre found in most of my works). So, I decided to go ahead and add in what I've already planned to implement this month. I've subtly teased it in this month's Optional additions with choice #2 being "Choose one of the choices for this month, and convert it into visual art (drawing, painting, etc.)". That was for Youth Art Month, another thing March is celebrated for.

I'm pretty sure we're all youth, and even if not, it doesn't matter because today, this place is no longer a self-made library ("self-made" as in all of us who have contributed"), but a creative workshop! No longer can you only request a section for your literary work, you can now request your very own art section, beat section, photography section, modeling section (warning: the modeling section won't be for face reveals or anything of a sexual nature. I made this section for those who inspire to do something in the fashion industry, whether that be modelling, making clothes, etc.), crochet, comics, animation, origami---you name it and I'll see about it! Because, at the end of the day, creativity isn't just visual art, which is why I made this Padlet, but it isn't just literary art either. Art is a handmade ingenious work. Even construction and interior design is a work of art. You'd be surprised, but art is all around us. Without art, Earth would be "Eh". I got that from this artistic quote (sadly I don't know who said it), and it's rather true. If you take out the letters "a", "r", and "t", you'd be left with "Eh". Art is beautiful, and I believe it's part of what makes the world beautiful.

For now, "Write To Your Heart's Desire" will become "Serendipitous Daydream" unless I or one of you come up with a better name. The description will also change, as will this padlet. I hope you're as excited for this new update as me. Thank you for your time, and happy creating!

Sincerely,

Myth

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Try writing in a style different from yours

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Try writing in a style different from yours

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So, my brother and I were talking to each other about our stories (we both write stories), and he came up with an idea: that we should try to write in the other's style. While this would be painful, since our styles are complete opposites (I go deeply in depth with my characters, don't have many characters, strong psychological theme, theme of rebellion, write too much, and my characters' powers, in the story he knows about, are closer to a normal level. He doesn't go in depth with his characters, has thousands of them, strong spontaneous theme (you can tell how spontaneous he is just from reading his story),a whole lot of concepts, doesn't usually write too much in his chapters or use much punctuation/grammar (which is his theme in one of his stories), most things are quick, 3rd person (I'm 1st person, sometimes 1st person alternate), and has some people (who have powers) who could destroy the world if they wanted to as well as a few powers that- well- let's just say his whole world could be an illusion (others are just very strong). It may sound like it'd only be a challenge, but it'd actually be a great exercise for balancing your skills. For example, I suck at pacing. Challenging myself to write in a faster, less dialogue-esque way would help me balance my writing and overall improve.

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Padlet generated image: "A painting of what one may feel when in love"

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Hello fellow readers and writers!

Are you feeling a bit... romantical? Well, regardless of whether you are or not, the romantical month of February has come! With this month, I bring to you a few optional challenges to get you into the romantic spirit. So open those chocolate candies and wave the red flags high because these challenges are yours for the month. Take them on a joyride and make sure to return them in this section by February 29th!

1. Write an anonymous creative work that holds the power of an anonymous love letter to your special someone behind it [short story, play, fanfic, song]

2. Write a tragic romance with revenge and hopes for a new romance/new leaf [any creative work]

3. Write a Valentine's Day special [stories, plays, songs, or a Valentine's Day poem]

4. Use symbolism to describe your relationship and feelings with/towards your special someone. This can include relationships between characters, items, and any other form of metaphors or symbolism [any creative work]

5. Write what love means to you [any creative work]

6. Write or symbolize what love has taught you [any creative work]

7. Choose between love, unrequited love, forbidden love, traumatic love, past love, concerning love, or obsessive love, and turn the emotions you felt (whether you were on the receiving end, giving end, or witnessing end) into a feeling beat

8. Either create a mashup between already existing romance-related songs or (romance-related) songs you've wrote, or create art out of the lyrics of 1 - 2 romance songs [songs, drawings that include lyrics, or descriptive poetry]

9. Write about your first love/childhood crush using a nostalgic tone and anonymity to said crush [any creative work]

10. Take one of your favorite romances and put yourself in the place of the character you relate the most to. Either find a character who is similar to your love interest, make one of the side MLs (Male Leads), FLs (Female Leads), or other gender leads represent or be similar to your love interest, or rewrite one of the characters to make them your desired love interest, and rewrite the story with the two (or more) of you. Write the story with "What would I do?" and "What would he/she/they do?" type of questions. Do not change or erase the initial issue. You can change or erase and following issues if your actions would not lead to that. Write the romance you got it from at the end [play, fanfic, or shorten it into a short story]

Optional additions

Make a cover design for your choice

Add a little extra something or combine choices as a way of acknowledging leap year

Add in a bit of Black history (or tie your submission to Black history) as a way of celebrating Black History Month

Make a part 1 & 2 of your work. If your work is LGBTQ+ related, then post part two in June as a way of celebrating Pride Month

Can't choose? Pick your choices and let this website break the tie!

Post your submission under this post with its title and "| 2024 February Submission" after it

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Hello!

I'm Myth, the owner of this Padlet. Most of you probably already know that, but I just thought I should say that since I never introduce myself in the announcements. I never name the announcements either, unless you consider "Hello! I was able to get..." a title.

Speaking of the title, this one's nice, eh? "Update Ideas", what does that entail? Well, it entails update ideas!

I've realized that this padlet is kind of half alive, and has been half alive for a long time now. In fact, Padlet itself is incredibly half alive. Sadly, I know no other website that's decently alive (or any other website in general) that I could use as a 2nd Write to Your Heart's Desire.

Now of course, that doesn't mean I'm going to get rid of Write to Your Heart's Desire.

Just... change it up a little bit.

What I plan to do is update it. Of course, I'm going to need update ideas. I already have a few, such as actually making this padlet public (which I'm definitely going to do. I'll make a backup too, just in case), and doing fun little events!

I haven't quite decided what the 'fun little events' would be, but I think I'll definitely take some inspiration from a website called RanGen (rangen.co.uk).

For those of you who don't know what RanGen is, it's pretty much a website where you can generate different things for a story. I discovered RanGen about a year or two ago and I'm proud to say it's one of my favorite websites, if not my favorite! My past story (the one I'm gonna rewrite), takes a lot of inspiration from RanGen. That story might not be possible without RanGen in fact.

But, while RanGen has amazing generators, I did not come here to talk about my love for it. I more so came to talk about the specific thing I wanna implement into this padlet: Monthly challenges.

Every month, RanGen challenges its users to write a story of around 10,000 words using specific generators. Now I don't have a generator, nor am I going to steal this idea as blatantly as I've done others. My padlet is also not specifically made for stories/short stories. Which is why I more so plan to steal the concept of it. Of course the challenges will be optional, I just think it would be a fun little addition to this padlet. With that said, I'll go ahead and brainstorm some ideas for the month of February. Once done, I'll post it along with some more specifics of what to do.

If you have any other update ideas, I'll be more than happy to hear them out!

That being said, thank you for your time, and happy writing!

Sincerely, the owner,

Myth

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Before you start writing, think about how your character might act in a conversation. Are they nervous? What are the giveaways? Are they outgoing and charismatic? How so? Think about the details and nuance of your character---their personality, their past, their motives, etc.---and how that might affect their conversations. Think about where they're from. Were they raised in the streets of New York, the high life in Hollywood? Another country? How does their culture affect their personality and how they come across? Do they even follow culture? How does the state of their country affect their lives and viewpoints? Become introspective with your characters.

Side note: I learned about the strategy of taking your characters on a walk and talk from a pin on Pinterest. I have yet to try the method out myself, but I'd imagine websites like c.ai might help you talk with your character.

As for nuance and culture, I learned to look into that the hard way while writing E.I. I wrote it completely off of impulse instead of looking at the plan for the characters and the country they're most familiar with, which led me to completely rewrite it (and the characters).

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its from the first person perspective f a murderer who (in their mind) tries to hustify thei r actions. its set in a post-apocalyyptic world. only 1 billion people left. they kill those who are considered "sick"(abusinfg others, punishing children harshly, fighting) there was a sickness that wiped out 7billion pople. that sickness though, only mae people sick. nt aggressiv. out main character calls the people sick only for the siole purpose of destroying aggresive people. they make the reader slowly think that theyre rigt. our main character remains anonymous. their name is never revealed. nor are their looks. the nly thing we know is that theyre male, which is expressed when they listen to the news befre cutting it off at the description f them. our main character despises their looks. they cover every mirror and any reflective surface. they also beleive everyone knows what theyve done (nobody knows) theyy think eyes are always watching them, no matter where they go someone is always watching them. they blame the victims for beimg aggressive ad "sick" some of their victims are people they find staring at them to long, or aware of their actins. at sme pint in the story, th killers background is revealed throug childhood memories. it narrowws them down to arround 17-24 years of age.

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"Starting Tomorrow Ends Today" New Chapter

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"Starting Tomorrow Ends Today" New Chapter

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Chapter one released at 12:00 Pm CST

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Write down all yours ideas, concepts, and notes for a story in one place

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Write down all yours ideas, concepts, and notes for a story in one place

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⊹₊ ⋆ ☕🍂🧺🧸⊹₊ ⋆ Chill Autumn Vibes - November 2025 Monthly Challenge ⊹₊ ⋆ ☕🍂🧺🧸⊹₊ ⋆

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⊹₊ ⋆ ☕🍂🧺🧸⊹₊ ⋆ Chill Autumn Vibes - November 2025 Monthly Challenge ⊹₊ ⋆ ☕🍂🧺🧸⊹₊ ⋆

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Hello fellow readers and writers!

It's been an extremely long time since the last monthly challenge. A lot has been going on since then (including the switch to in-person), but we are so back! Not only are we back for the fall season, we're also back for my birthday month. So, do me a favor and participate in these fall-themed monthly challenges:

1. Create a chill beat to aid in studying

2. Write songs, poetry, or a short story about shedding what was old

3. Write an AU (alternative universe) about Christopher Columbus and the Native Americans [look up "how Thanksgivings came to be" or "What Christopher Columbus did to the Native Americans"]

4. Write or create something symbolic of your process of shedding a bad habit (the bad habit doesn't have to be named if you don't want to)

5. Write or draw a picture of a family get-together and/or reunion

6. Take a picture, write a story and/or poem, create a beat, or put together an outfit that summerizes the cozy Thanksgivings vibes

7. Draw a panel or write a poem or short story about an interaction you had with someone you haven't talked to in a long time

8. Study and write about the cozy feelings arising from this time of the year

9. Create a moodboard about anything fall themed relating to your area of creative interest(s) (for example: stylish cozy outfits for fashion, favorite fall things for poetry, OCs gathering together/hanging out for drawing or writing, etc.)

10. Get started on a story you've been procrastinating with. Upload one chapter by the end of the month or have a scheduled date for its release

11. [✨️NEW✨️] Create a fall themed pattern on any 3d work (for example: pottery, clay, etc.)

Optional additions

Día De Los Muertos (Day of the Dead): Draw a picture or a mural or write a story, song, or poem of an honored deceased love one and what they were like (or what they liked) in their life.

Veterans Day: create anything of your choice to give as a gift for a Veteran you know. (You can come to this community if you need any support or ideas)

Combine Día De Los Muertos with Veterans Day and All Souls' Day to honor a family members who died in the war. Anything is free game.

World Vegan Day: Write a story, song, or poem about your favorite animal or pet, the symbolism behind them, or what they mean to you.

International Day to End Impunity for Crimes Against Journalists: Get political, and write (story, poem, song) about the importance of journalists in todays world. Create a mural speaking out against crimes against journalists.

Write or draw about any national day of your choice that's within this month.

Create any work to celebrate any national monthly celebration that is related to you, but not your country of birth (for example, if you are African American and you were born in American, learn and create a work based upon Africa's November national celebration)

Native American Heritage Month: Write a short story or poem about Native American culture, their contributions to society, and/or the hardships they have faced. Draw or create an outfit celebrating Native American culture. Write a poem about a unique word from a Native American language (the title of the poem will be the Native American word; BONUS if the word has no direct English translation)

National Alzhrimer's disease awareness month: Write a song, story, poem, or create a drawing or a beat about (or conveying the feelings of) what it feels like to lose a loved one to Alzheimer's disease.

Challenge: In honor of the beloved NaNoWriMo, write a 50,000 word novel in 30 days for Novel November. You can also do this same challenge in Reedsy Studio to win up to 5k, and all you have to do is sumbit an excerpt.

As the grande finale, you can also do a challenge of your choice based upon a specific celebration or event. If you choose to do that, you must release it by the date of said event (November 1st and 2nd celebrations can be released any time in November). Here is a list of daily November celebrations.

And, as always, though we're not partnered, and no we aren't paid to advertise them, we all know and love them: RanGen! Create and post any monthly challenge on there that you see fit, including previous monthly challenges (as an apology for my absence)

Post your submission under this post with its title and "| 2025 November Submission" after it.

As always, good luck and happy creating!

P.s: I am so very sorry for missing Halloween. I planned on making a 24 hour challenge for it as my return to this padlet, but I found myself extremely busy with all the legal stuff.

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Summary of "Beyond Perception: Fade Away"

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Summary of "Beyond Perception: Fade Away"

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Marcus Littlefield is the old friend and past lover of Cameron Thorn. When they were young, the two of them were virtually inseparable. The only thing that could separate these lovers was Marcus moving. Even then, they kept their relationship alive online for 4 more months until Marcus broke his phone, losing all contact to Cameron. Now, almost 2 years later, Marcus has moved near his old home. He attends Duncanville High where he finds Cameron, who's... changed. Cameron avoids Marcus religiously, and is being used every single day by almost everyone. Even worse, Marcus can sense something's incredibly wrong deep down inside Cameron. He's afraid he's insane. What happen to Cameron? What's wrong with him? And, most importantly, can Marcus save Cameron from himself before it's too late?

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Oh what a hopeless romantic,
Loving in all their ways,
To see that someone happy brings a euphoria
That's also laced with pain.

Oh what a hopeless romantic,
Kind in all their ways,
Fighting for the unknown for someone,
Only to have it filled with sorrow- and rage.

Oh what a hopeless romantic,
Generous in all their ways,
Giving their all to a society,
That will laugh at their grave.

Oh what a hopeless romantic,
Naïve in all their ways,
Giving their all for someone,
Who will push them 'till they break

Oh what a hopeless romantic,
Optimistic in all their ways,
Only receiving thorns,
From the thornless rose that's- been selfishly taken away.

Oh what a hopeless romantic,
Hopeful in all their ways,
Seeing your future in everyone's- eye,
Only for it to be a repeat of your- past mistake.

Oh what a hopeless romantic,
Love is a beautiful yet dangerous- game,
One you play every day of your life,
Despite all that pain.
Oh what a brave and valiant- soldier you are,
Willing to play that game.
Singlehandedly and- wholeheartedly loving everything
Bringing hope to a world of which- I lost faith.

Oh hopeless romantic, what a- beautiful soldier you are
Loving everything, despite all- those scars
Love is a beautiful thing, as you are
So thank you, hopeless romantic,- for showing the world your heart

------------------
Date: 6/11/23
Date posted: 1:30 PM, 9/25/23
By: Soul/Echo

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I have updated Chapter 2 of "The Academy" if you scroll down in that section.

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He

Jamie F.

9/6/23

“Where is she?”

“She is not he”

But he is all I see

She is what you want

To see

But she is he, and he is me.

He doesn't understand you.

“Why can’t pink turn to blue?”

It’s not what you’re

used to.

But to him it’s true

And he is me, and he is blue

He is valid, you see

This ballad’s for we

He an be he

“She” was always he

If he wanted to be

But he is he

And he is me

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Zuko Drakwood was born into a very powerful pack in the wolflands, the Crimson Blood. But after being out for a night with his close friend Kai Falls, he returns to find his entire Pack destroyed, burned to the ground. With no survivors of his pack but him, he heads on a mission to find exactly who did it, and why. With a hodgepodge team of each land, and help from a goblin or two. Follow Zuko and his group as they travel across the lands and seas, venture into dangerous and uncharted lands to find the root of the problem. Will they all survive?

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My second chapter for "The Academy" Will be released on May 31. <<3

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Hello! I was able to get my grades up before lockdate hit, so all is well! I'll try to be online as much as possible, and work on this Padlet and my stories over the summer. I want to big give thanks to both Loki and Shroomy for keeping the Padlet secure while I was gone. I knew I could trust you two and I'm glad it worked out! I guess that's it. Not exactly too sure what to say. So... Happy writing!

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Hello! I was able to get my grades up before lockdate hit, so all is well! I'll try to be online as much as possible, and work on this Padlet and my stories over the summer. I want to big give thanks to both Loki and Shroomy for keeping the Padlet secure while I was gone. I knew I could trust you two and I'm glad it worked out! I guess that's it. Not exactly too sure what to say. So... Happy writing!

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Note: Since this Padlet is interactive, and since said admins kept the place nice while I was gone, we have 2 new admins to help maintain the Padlet officially. These admins are Loki and Shroomy! Congrats y'all!

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Hello, Im leaving on friday until late august, so incase anything happens. this note is for Sølid. Please do not remove unless you are Sølidified. His message is beneath this one

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Hello, Im leaving on friday until late august, so incase anything happens. this note is for Sølid. Please do not remove unless you are Sølidified. His message is beneath this one

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Thank you for entrusting me with the writing padlet. I love your poems and stories that you wrote, I like how you were funny and calm, level headed and cool. I’m sad to have to leave, so I want you to know you were an amazing person, and I hope you go off to help and brighten other people's lives. Continue being a genuine person, and you will get far my friend. 🖤🩶🤍

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Already working on the second chapter for "The Academy"!

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Chapter two to be released tomorrow. heres a sneak peek:

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Chapter two to be released tomorrow. heres a sneak peek:

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Noah swings the door open and teleports to the crash scene, he starts sifting through the rubble, his eyes getting misty. “Cmon, please, not now!” he pleads as he digs through, tossing rubble aside.

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https://www.wattpad.com/story/326219659-untold-stories

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This is a book of poems. Some are relatable and others are not, some are based off of my stories. Hope you enjoy! Note: These poems are not in any order

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It's not that you're dangerous
It's not that you can snap a- person's neck
It's not that you know how to- threaten people
It's not even that you can- threaten people
It's when you threaten people
When you snap that person's neck
When you act dangerous
That's when they realize it

At first it was cool to them
A fun fact
Something to teach others
It may've made people feel safe- around you
But then you use it--
Not to protect--
But to hurt
Now you install fear in the hearts- of others
Your summer-warm protective- gaze
Is nothing but a harsh, cold-, freezing winter to them
They trusted you
But you've betrayed them
With one
Single
Move.
It wasn't self-defense
But now-
They defend themselves from you
They run away
In fear of getting threatened, hurt-, or worse-
Manipulated.
Everyone.
You've done this to everyone.
In some way or another.
Some worse than others.
But- either way- they'll never- forgive you

Then there's that one kid.
They looks at their surroundings- with disgust
Anger
And rage
The way everyone avoids you
The eyes that follow you
As they hurry away
Their heartbeats
Their anxious, racing heartbeats
He hears them all.
Each thump.
Terror.
Thump.
Distrust.
Thump.
Sadness.
Thump.
Disgust.
Thump.
Thump.
Thump.
He sees them.
He hears them.
He feels them.
So--
He looks at you.
His passive green eyes
Two burning flames
Melting the forest that was once- him
In an instant, the flames rise- around you
And when they're gone
You'll be diminished in a second

-----------------
Date: 8:10 PM, 12/1/22
Date posted: 4/26/22
Stanzas: 3
Lines: 66
Note: Sorry! I know the "-" marks are a bit confusing since I normally only use them to indicate that that line was cut off. Any line that has 2 "-" ("--") or doesn't end at the edge of the post are dashes that are a part of the poem

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Uh so basically- I took insparation from this random short i found, for my book "The Academy" 🤣

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Uh so basically- I took insparation from this random short i found, for my book "The Academy" 🤣

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https://www.youtube.com/shorts/s8zxbCHLyyg

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POV: every year 100 girls get recruited to join a secret spy academy ￼ #acting #spy #girls

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I love you so much, I would do anything to go back in time. Sadly, I can't go through time. I really enjoy the fact we're together, My Honeybunches we've made memories happen, without you I'm nothing, please except my love again🥺😫😭. It's already been hard for both of us to keep living so please won't you give me one more chance to fix my mistake. We can fix our relationship and my mistake together if you grant me one more chance. Life is full of disappointment and enjoyment we can still make so many memories if you will grant me a chance. 🥰😍😖😥, your depressed because you thought I broke up with you I get it I truly do, help me fix our relationship. I really do love you, more than anyone. I truly believe you're the one that I'm supposed to spend the rest of my life with. I know this probably Isn't going to fix my mistake, but I really am truly sorry, for being gone for so long, not being with you, spending time with you, caring for you, or loving you when you needed most. I am so sorry. Please for our love, relationship, my sanity, and life please, please tell me how I can repent, for you, my Honeybunches. 🥺❤️

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I'm the fire and the flame
You're my gasoline
You keep me going
When I'm falling in between
The cracks, but is this fire good?
I don't know, we'll find out
Cause you're the one that keeps- me burning
The torch when night's out
And I know that's my thing
But you make me feel found
The rain in my drought
You're still my torch and my flame
You keep me from going "lights- out"

Poet: Soul/Echo
Date: 10/29/22
Based off of: E.I
Note: I won't give much context on this poem but it's part of a plan of mine. This poem goes hand and hand with "Sunset"
Stanzas: 1
Lines: 13
POV: N/A

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I took alot of inspiration from the Columbine Highschool Massacre for Blindsighted, 

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I took alot of inspiration from the Columbine Highschool Massacre for Blindsighted, 

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Columbine High School massacre

Part of mass shootings in the United States and school shootings in the United States

Location

Columbine, Colorado, U.S.

Date

April 20, 1999; 24 years ago
11:19a.m. - 12:08p.m. ( MDT)

Target

Students and staff at Columbine High School, first responders

School shooting, mass shooting, mass murder, murder-suicide, arson, attempted bombing, shootout

Weapons

Deaths

15 (including both perpetrators)

Injured

24 (21 by gunfire)

Perpetrators
Eric Harris and Dylan Klebold

Motive

Inconclusive

Convicted

Mark Manes and Philip Duran (weapons suppliers)

Convictions

Manes and Duran:
Supplying a handgun to a minor, possession of an illegally sawed-off shotgun

Sentence

Manes:
6 years in prison
Duran:
4+ 1⁄2 years in prison[1][2]

Litigation

Multiple lawsuits against the perpetrators' families and suppliers of the weapons[a]

The Columbine High School massacre, commonly referred to as Columbine, was a school shooting and attempted bombing that occurred on April 20, 1999, at Columbine High School in Columbine, Colorado, United States. The perpetrators, twelfth-grade students Eric Harris and Dylan Klebold, murdered twelve students and one teacher. Ten of the twelve students killed were in the school library, where Harris and Klebold subsequently committed suicide. Twenty-one additional people were injured by gunshots, and gunfire was also exchanged with the police. Another three people were injured trying to escape. The Columbine massacre was the deadliest mass shooting at a high school in U.S. history, until it was surpassed by the Parkland high school shooting in February 2018. Columbine still remains the deadliest mass shooting to occur in the U.S. state of Colorado.

Harris and Klebold, who planned for at least a year and hoped to have a large number of victims, intended for the attack to primarily be a bombing and only secondarily a shooting. But when several homemade bombs they planted in the school failed to detonate, the pair launched a shooting attack. Their motive remains inconclusive. The police were slow to enter the school and were heavily criticized for not intervening during the shooting. The incident resulted in the introduction of the immediate action rapid deployment (IARD) tactic, which is used in active-shooter situations, and an increased emphasis on school security with zero-tolerance policies. Debates and moral panic were sparked over American gun culture and gun control laws, high school cliques, subcultures (e.g. goths), outcasts, and school bullying, as well as teenage use of pharmaceutical antidepressants, the internet, and violence in video games and movies.

Many makeshift memorials were created after the massacre, including ones employing victims Rachel Scott's car and John Tomlin's truck. Fifteen crosses for the victims and the shooters were erected on top of a hill in Clement Park. The crosses for Harris and Klebold were later removed following controversy. Planning for a permanent memorial began in June 1999, and the resulting Columbine Memorial opened to the public in September 2007.

The shooting has inspired dozens of copycat killings, dubbed the Columbine effect, including many deadlier shootings across the world. The word "Columbine" has become a byword for school shootings.

Perpetrators

Eric Harris

Eric David Harris (April 9, 1981- April 20, 1999) was born in Wichita, Kansas. The Harris family relocated often, as Harris's father was a U.S. Air Force transport pilot. His mother was a homemaker. The family moved from Plattsburgh, New York, to Littleton, Colorado, in July 1993, when his father retired from military service.

The Harris family lived in rented accommodations for their first three years in the Littleton area. During this time, Harris attended Ken Caryl Middle School, where he met Klebold. In 1996, the Harris family purchased a house south of CHS. Harris's older brother attended college at the University of Colorado Boulder.

Dylan Klebold

Dylan Bennet Klebold ( KLEE-bohld; September 11, 1981- April 20, 1999) was born in Lakewood, Colorado. His parents were pacifists and attended a Lutheran church with their children. Both Dylan and his older brother, Byron, attended confirmation classes in accordance with the Lutheran tradition. As had been the case with his older brother, Klebold was named after a renowned poet-in his case, the playwright Dylan Thomas.

At the family home, the Klebolds also observed some rituals in keeping with Klebold's maternal grandfather's Jewish heritage. Klebold attended Normandy Elementary in Littleton, Colorado for first and second grade before transferring to Governor's Ranch Elementary, and became part of the CHIPS ("Challenging High Intellectual Potential Students") program.

Background

Criminal history

In 1996, 15-year-old Eric Harris created a private website on America Online ( AOL). It was initially to host levels (also known as WADs) Harris created for use in the first-person shooter video games , , and . On the site, Harris began a blog, which included details about Harris sneaking out of the house to cause mischief and vandalism, such as lighting fireworks with Klebold and others. These were known as "Rebel Missions", and Harris's blog primarily consisted of "mission logs". Beginning in early 1997, the blog postings began to show the first signs of Harris's anger against society. By the end of the year, the site contained instructions on how to make explosives. Harris's site attracted few visitors and caused no concern until August 1997, after Harris ended a blog post detailing murderous fantasies with "All I want to do is kill and injure as many of you as I can, especially a few people. Like Brooks Brown." Brown was a classmate of his. After Brown's parents viewed the site, they contacted the Jefferson County Sheriff's Office on August 7, 1997. An investigator wrote a draft affidavit to request a search warrant for the Harris household, but it was never submitted to a judge.

On January 30, 1998, Harris and Klebold were arrested for breaking into a white van parked near Littleton and stealing tools and computer equipment. They would subsequently attend a joint court hearing, where they pled guilty to the felony theft. The judge sentenced them to a juvenile diversion program. As a result, both delinquents attended mandatory classes such as anger management and talked with diversion officers. They both were eventually released from diversion several weeks early because of positive actions in the program and put on probation.

Shortly after the court hearing for the van break-in, Harris reverted his website back to just hosting user-created levels of Doom. He began to write his thoughts down in a journal. Klebold had already been keeping a personal journal since March 1997; as early as November of that year, Klebold had mentioned going on a killing spree. Klebold used his journal to vent about his personal problems as well as what he'd wear and use during the attack. In both their journals, Harris and Klebold would later plot the attack. Soon after beginning his journal, Harris typed out one plan of attack which included possibly escaping to a foreign country after the massacre, or hijacking an aircraft at Denver International Airport and crashing it into New York City.

Harris also made entries in his journal on topics related to his sexuality, where he described his desire for sex with women, especially his desire of raping and torturing women in his bedroom. Harris also expressed interest in cannibalism, stating that he would like to dismember a woman with whom he could have "animalistic sex" and eat her flesh.

Harris and Klebold's schoolwork also foreshadowed the massacre. They both displayed themes of violence in their creative writing projects. In December 1997, Harris wrote a paper on school shootings titled "Guns in School", and a poem from the perspective of a bullet. Klebold wrote a short story about a man killing students which worried his teacher so much that she alerted his parents.

Both had also actively researched war and murder. For one project, Harris wrote a paper on Nazi Germany and Klebold wrote a paper on Charles Manson. In a psychology class, Harris wrote he dreamed of going on a shooting spree with Klebold. Harris's journals described several experimental bomb detonations.

Nearly a year before the massacre, Klebold wrote a message in Harris's 1998 yearbook: "killing enemies, blowing up stuff, killing cops!! My wrath for January's incident will be godlike. Not to mention our revenge in the commons"; "the commons" was slang for the school cafeteria.

Basement tapes

Harris and Klebold were both enrolled in video-production classes and kept five video tapes that were recorded with school video equipment. Only two of these, " Hitmen for Hire" and "Rampart Range", and part of a third known as " Radioactive Clothing", have been released. The remaining three tapes detailed their plans and reasons for the massacre, including the ways they hid their weapons and deceived their parents. Most were shot in the Harris family basement, and are thus known as the Basement Tapes. Thirty minutes before the attack, they made a final video saying goodbye and apologizing to their friends and families.

In December 1999, before anyone besides investigators had seen them, Time magazine published an article on these tapes. The victims' family members threatened to sue Jefferson County. As a result, select victim families and journalists were allowed to view them, though the tapes were then withheld from the public and, in 2011, destroyed for fear of inspiring future massacres. Transcripts of some of the dialogue and a short clip recorded surreptitiously by a victim's father still exist. The pair claimed they were going to make copies of the tapes to send to news stations but never did so.

When an economics class had Harris make an ad for a business, he and Klebold made a video called Hitmen for Hire on December 8, 1998, which was released in February 2004. It depicts them as part of the Trench Coat Mafia, a clique in the school who wore black trench coats and opposed jocks, extorting money for protecting preps from bullies. Klebold and Harris themselves were apparently not a part of the Trench Coat Mafia but were friends with some of its members. They wore black trench coats on the day of the massacre, and the Hitmen for Hire video seemed a kind of dress rehearsal, showing them walking the halls of the school, and shooting bullies outside with fake guns.

9 mm Hi-Point 995 carbine, one of the guns used by Harris

In the months prior to the attacks, Harris and Klebold acquired two 9mm firearms and two 12-gauge shotguns. Harris had a Hi-Point 995 Carbine with thirteen 10-round magazines and a Savage-Springfield 67H pump-action shotgun. Klebold used a 9mm Intratec TEC-9 semi-automatic handgun with one 52-, one 32-, and one 28-round magazine and a Stevens 311D double-barreled shotgun. Harris's shotgun was sawed-off to around 26 inches (0.66 m) and Klebold shortened his shotgun's length to 23 inches (0.58 m), a felony under the National Firearms Act.

On November 22, 1998, their friend Robyn Anderson purchased a carbine rifle and the two shotguns for the pair at the Tanner Gun Show, as they were too young to legally purchase the guns themselves. After the attack, she told investigators that she had believed the pair wanted the weapons for target shooting and denied that she had prior knowledge of their plans. Anderson was not charged.

9 mm TEC-9 pistol, one of the guns used by Klebold

Harris and Klebold both held part-time jobs at a local Blackjack Pizza. Through Philip Duran, one of their coworkers, Klebold bought a TEC-9 handgun from Mark Manes for $500 at another gun show on January 23. Manes, Manes' girlfriend, and Duran are all in the Rampart Range video. After the massacre, Manes and Duran were both prosecuted. Each was charged with supplying a handgun to a minor and possession of a sawed-off shotgun. Manes and Duran were sentenced to a total of six years and four-and-a-half years in prison.

Explosives

In addition to the firearms, the complex and highly planned attack involved several improvised explosive devices. Harris and Klebold constructed a total of 99 bombs. These included pipe bombs, carbon-dioxide cartridges filled with gunpowder (called "crickets"), Molotov cocktails, and propane tanks converted to bombs. The propane bombs were used in the cafeteria, the shooters' cars, and in another location intended as a diversion. For ignition, they used storm matches, cannon fuses, and model rocket igniters as well as timing devices built from mechanical alarm clocks for the propane bombs. During the massacre, they carried match strikers taped to their forearms for easy ignition of the pipe bombs and CO ₂ bombs.

Harris also experimented with napalm, and envisioned a kind of backpack and flamethrower. They both attempted to get another friend and coworker, Chris Morris, who was a part of the Trench Coat Mafia, to keep the napalm at his house, but he refused. Harris also tried to recruit him to be a third shooter but played it off as a joke when rebuked.

Harris's website contained instructions on making pipe bombs and Molotovs, and the extensive use of shrapnel. Harris's father once discovered one of his pipe bombs. Harris's journal logged the creation of 25 pipe bombs.

Klebold scared his coworkers by once bringing a pipe bomb into work. They would give various nicknames to their pipe bombs. After the massacre, two pipe bombs had been left in Klebold's bedroom, one named "Vengeance" and another " Atlanta", presumably after the Olympic Park bombing.

Cafeteria bombs

They had in their possession eight propane tanks all converted into bombs. The weekend before the shooting, Harris and Klebold bought two propane tanks and other supplies from a hardware store. They bought six propane tanks on the morning of the attack. Harris was caught on a Texaco gas station security camera at 9:12 a.m. buying a Blue Rhino propane tank. Both cafeteria bombs included a single 20-pound tank, attached pipe bombs, and supporting gasoline canisters alongside.

Harris and Klebold were both equipped with knives, but investigators do not believe they ever utilized them during the massacre. Harris had a boot knife on his belt and a "Khyber-pass" machete bowie knife taped to the back of his ankle. Both had an "R", referencing Harris's alias "REB", etched into the handle, and the machete had a swastika on the sheath. Klebold had a "Cobra" knife mounted to his belt on the left side as well as a switchblade in his right pocket.

The massacre

Planting the bombs

On Tuesday morning, April 20, 1999, Harris and Klebold placed two duffel bags in the cafeteria. Each bag contained propane bombs, set to detonate during the "A" lunch shift, which began at 11:15 a.m.

No witness recalled seeing the duffel bags being added to the 400 or so backpacks that were already in the cafeteria. The security staff at CHS did not observe the bags being placed in the cafeteria; a custodian was replacing the school security videotape at around 11:14 a.m. Shortly after the massacre, police speculated the bombs were placed during this "tape change". They also investigated whether the bombs were placed during the "after-prom" party held the prior weekend. Some internet sleuths claim the bomb placement can be seen on the surveillance video at around 10:58 a.m. Harris and Klebold are seen in the tapes planting the bombs in casual school clothes separately.

Meanwhile, Harris and Klebold armed themselves, using straps and webbing to conceal weapons beneath their trench coats. They lugged bags containing bombs and ammunition. Harris had concealed his shotgun in one of the bags. Beneath the trench coats, Harris wore a military bandolier and a white T-shirt with the inscription " Natural Selection" in black letters, a mantra he had adopted; Klebold wore a black T-shirt with "Wrath" in red letters.

The cafeteria bombs failed to detonate. Had these explosives detonated as intended, they would have killed or severely wounded the 488 students in the cafeteria and damaged the school's structure, collapsing the library into the cafeteria and possibly killing more students and staff.

11:19 a.m.: Shooting begins

At 11:19 a.m., 17-year-old Rachel Scott and her friend Richard Castaldo were having lunch and sitting on the grass next to the west entrance of the school. Klebold threw a pipe bomb towards the parking lot; the bomb only partially detonated, causing it to give off smoke. Castaldo thought it was no more than a crude senior prank. Likewise, several students during the incident first thought that they were watching a prank.

A witness reported hearing "Go! Go!" before Klebold and Harris pulled their guns from beneath their trench coats and began shooting. The two allegedly returned to where Rachel Scott and Richard Castaldo lay on the ground injured. Klebold approached Castaldo, asking if he believed in God. Castaldo truthfully answered no. Harris then turned to Scott, who was crying. He "pulled Rachel's head up by her hair." Here, the situation is disputed. Several students witnessed Harris say something to Rachel, before lifting his gun up to her temple and firing a fatal round. According to Castaldo's initial reports and family members of Scott who claim they have solid proof, "They confronted her with the question, 'Do you believe in God?' and she said yes, and they took a gun to her temple and killed her."Scott was killed instantly when she was hit four times with rounds fired from Harris's carbine; one shot was to the left temple. Castaldo was shot eight times in the chest, arm, and abdomen by both Harris and Klebold; he fell unconscious to the ground and was left paralyzed below the chest.

After firing twice, Klebold's TEC-9 jammed, and he was forced to temporarily cease shooting to fix it, which he did by reloading a new magazine into his pistol. Meanwhile, Harris took off his trenchcoat and aimed his carbine down the west staircase in the direction of three students: Daniel Rohrbough, Sean Graves, and Lance Kirklin. The students presumed they were paintball guns, and were about to walk up the staircase directly below the shooters. Harris fired ten times, killing Rohrbough and injuring Graves and Kirklin. William David Sanders, a teacher and coach at the school, was in the cafeteria when he heard the gunfire and began warning students.

Klebold walked down the steps toward the cafeteria. He first shot once at the body of Dan Rohrbough with his shotgun, and then came up to Lance Kirklin, who was already wounded and lying on the ground, weakly calling for help. Klebold said, "Sure. I'll help you," then shot Kirklin in the jaw with his shotgun. Although near-fatally injured, Kirklin would survive. Graves-paralyzed beneath the waist-had crawled into the doorway of the cafeteria's west entrance and collapsed. He rubbed his blood on his face and played dead. After shooting Kirklin, Klebold walked towards the cafeteria door. He then stepped over the injured Graves to enter the cafeteria. Graves remembers Klebold saying, "Sorry, dude."

Klebold only briefly entered the cafeteria and did not shoot at the several people still inside. Officials speculated that Klebold went to check on the propane bombs. Harris was still on top of the stairs shooting, and severely wounded and partially paralyzed 17-year-old Anne-Marie Hochhalter as she tried to flee. Klebold came out of the cafeteria and went back up the stairs to join Harris. They each shot once at students standing close to a soccer field but did not hit anyone. They walked toward the west entrance, throwing pipe bombs in several directions, including onto the roof; only a few of these pipe bombs detonated. Witnesses heard one of them say, "This is what we always wanted to do. This is awesome!"

Meanwhile, art teacher Patti Nielson was inside the school; she had noticed the commotion and walked toward the west entrance with student Brian Anderson. Nielson had intended to walk outside to tell the two students, "Knock it off", thinking they were either filming a video or pulling a student prank. As Anderson opened the first set of double doors, the gunmen shot out the windows, injuring him with flying glass; Nielson was hit in the shoulder with shrapnel. Anderson and Nielson ran back down the hall into the library, and Nielson alerted the students inside to the danger, telling them to get under desks and keep silent. She dialed 9-1-1 and hid under the library's administrative counter. Anderson fell to the floor, bleeding from his injuries, then hid inside the magazine room adjacent to the library.

11:22 a.m.: Police response and West Entrance shootouts

At 11:22 a.m., a custodian called Deputy Neil Gardner, the assigned resource officer to Columbine, on the school radio, requesting assistance in the senior parking lot. The only paved route took him around the school to the east and south on Pierce Street, where at 11:23 a.m., he heard on his police radio that a female was down, and assumed she had been struck by a car. While exiting his patrol car in the senior lot at 11:24, he heard another call on the school radio, "Neil, there's a shooter in the school."

Harris, at the west entrance, immediately turned and fired ten shots from his carbine at Gardner, who was 60 yards (55 m) away. As Harris reloaded his carbine, Gardner leaned over the top of his car and fired four rounds at Harris from his service pistol. Harris ducked back behind the building, and Gardner momentarily believed that he had hit him. Harris then reemerged and fired at least four more rounds at Gardner (which missed and struck two parked cars), before retreating into the building. No one was hit during the exchange of gunfire. Gardner reported on his police radio, "Shots in the building. I need someone in the south lot with me." By this point, Harris had shot 47 times, and Klebold 5. The shooters then entered the school through the west entrance, moving along the main north hallway, throwing pipe bombs and shooting at anyone they encountered. Klebold shot Stephanie Munson in the ankle, but she was able to walk out of the school. The pair then shot out the windows to the east entrance of the school. After proceeding through the hall several times and shooting toward-and missing-any students they saw, they went toward the west entrance and turned into the library hallway.

Inside the school cafeteria, Dave Sanders and two custodians, Jon Curtis and Jay Gallatine, initially told students to get under the tables, then successfully evacuated students up the staircase leading to the second floor of the school. The stairs were located around the corner from the library hallway in the main south hallway. Sanders then tried to secure as much of the school as he could. Sanders and another student were down at the end of the hallway, where he gestured for students in the library to stay, before encountering Harris and Klebold, who were approaching from the corner of the north hallway. Sanders and the student turned and ran in the opposite direction. Harris and Klebold shot at them both, with Harris hitting Sanders twice in the back and neck, hitting his teeth on exit, but missing the student. The latter ran into a science classroom and warned everyone to hide. Klebold walked over towards Sanders, who had collapsed, and tossed a pipe bomb, then returned to Harris up the library hallway.

Sanders struggled toward the science area, and a teacher took him into a classroom where 30 students were located. Due to his knowledge of first aid, student Aaron Hancey was brought to the classroom from another by teachers despite the unfolding commotion. With the assistance of fellow student Kevin Starkey and teacher Theresa Miller, Hancey administered first aid to Sanders for three hours, attempting to stem the blood loss using shirts from students in the room, and showing him pictures from his wallet to keep him talking. Using a phone in the room, Miller and several students maintained contact with police outside the school.

1. Rachel Scott (aged 17), killed on grass outside west entrance by Harris

2. Daniel Rohrbough (aged 15), killed at bottom of stairs leading to west entrance by Harris

3. William David Sanders (aged 47), shot in hallway adjacent library by Harris; died of blood loss in a science classroom

4. Kyle Velasquez (aged 16), killed while sitting in a chair near the middle of the north computer table in the library by Klebold

5. Steven Curnow (aged 14), killed at the west end of the south computer table in the library by Harris

6. Cassie Bernall (aged 17), killed under library table No. 19 by Harris

7. Isaiah Shoels (aged 18), killed under library table No. 16 by Harris

8. Matthew Kechter (aged 16), killed under library table No. 16 by Klebold

9. Lauren Townsend (aged 18), killed under library table No. 2 by Klebold

10. John Tomlin (aged 16), killed next to library table No. 6 by Klebold; after being wounded by Harris

11. Kelly Fleming (aged 16), killed next to library table No. 2 by Harris

12. Daniel Mauser (aged 15), killed under library table No. 9 by Harris

13. Corey DePooter (aged 17), killed under library table No. 14 by Klebold

14. Eric Harris (perpetrator) (aged 18), committed suicide via a self-inflicted gunshot wound

15. Dylan Klebold (perpetrator) (aged 17), committed suicide via a self-inflicted gunshot wound

11:29-11:36 a.m.: Library massacre

At 11:29 a.m., Harris and Klebold entered the library. Fifty-two students, two teachers and two librarians were inside. Harris yelled at everyone to "GET UP!" loud enough to be heard on the 911 call. When no one complied, Harris yelled, "Fine! I'll start shooting anyway!"

Harris fired his shotgun twice at a desk. Student Evan Todd had been standing near a pillar when the shooters entered the library and had just taken cover behind a photocopier. Todd was hit by wood splinters in the eye and lower back but was not seriously injured. He then hid behind the administrative counter.

Throughout the massacre in the library, they ordered everybody to get up, said how long they had been waiting for this, and seemed to be enjoying themselves, shouting things like "Woo!" after shooting. While ordering the jocks to stand up, one of the two said, "Anybody with a white hat or a sports emblem on it is dead." Wearing a white baseball cap at Columbine was a tradition among sports team members. Nobody stood up, and several students tried to hide their white hats.

Harris then walked to a table south of the lower computer table, with two students underneath: Cassie Bernall and Emily Wyant. Harris slapped the surface of the table twice as he knelt, and said " Peek-a-boo" before shooting Bernall once in the head with the shotgun, killing her. Harris at this point held the gun with one hand, and the weapon hit his face in recoil, injuring his nose. He told Klebold he had done so, and Klebold responded "Why'd you do that?"

Klebold noticed Ireland trying to provide aid to Hall, who had suffered a wound to his knee. As Ireland tried to help Hall, his head rose above the table. Klebold shot him a second time, hitting him twice in the head and once in the foot. Ireland was knocked unconscious but survived. Klebold then walked toward another table, where he discovered 18-year-old Isaiah Shoels, 16-year-old Matthew Kechter, and 16-year-old Craig Scott (Rachel's younger brother), hiding underneath. Klebold called out to Harris that he found a " nigger" and tried to pull Shoels out from under the table.

Klebold walked to the east area of the library. Harris walked from the bookcase, past the central area to meet Klebold. The latter shot at a display case next to the door, then turned and shot toward the closest table, hitting and injuring 17-year-old Mark Kintgen in the head and shoulder. He then turned toward the table to his left and fired, injuring 18-year-olds Lisa Kreutz, Lauren Townsend, and Valeen Schnurr with the same shotgun blast. Klebold then moved toward the same table and fired several shots with the TEC-9, killing Townsend.

An FBI diagram of the library, with locations of fatalities

After Savage left, Harris turned and fired his carbine at the table directly north of where he had been, hitting the ear and hand of 15-year-old Daniel Mauser. Mauser retaliated by either shoving a chair at Harris or grabbing at his leg; Harris fired again and hit Mauser in the center of the face at close range, killing him. Harris then moved south and fired three shots under another table, critically injuring two 17-year-olds, Jennifer Doyle and Austin Eubanks. Klebold then shot once, fatally wounding 17-year-old Corey DePooter, at 11:35. There were no further victims. They had killed 10 people in the library and wounded 12.

12:08 p.m.: Suicides

After leaving the library, Harris and Klebold entered the science area, where they caused a fire in an empty storage closet. It was extinguished by a teacher who had hidden in an adjacent room. The gunmen then proceeded toward the south hallway, where they shot into an empty science room. At 11:44 a.m., they were captured on the school security cameras as they re-entered the cafeteria. The recording shows Harris crouching against the rail on the staircase and firing toward the propane bombs left in the cafeteria, in an unsuccessful attempt to detonate them. As Klebold approached the propane bomb and examined it, Harris took a drink from one of the cups left behind. Klebold lit a Molotov cocktail and threw it at the propane bomb. About a minute later, the gallon of fuel attached to the bomb ignited, causing a fire that was extinguished by the fire sprinklers a few minutes later. They left the cafeteria at 11:46.

They re-entered the library, which was empty of survivors except for the unconscious Ireland and the injured Kreutz. Once inside, at 12:02 p.m., police were shot at again through the library windows and returned fire. Nobody was injured in the exchange. By 12:05, all gunfire from the school had ceased. By 12:08 p.m., both gunmen had killed themselves. Harris sat down with his back to a bookshelf and fired his shotgun through the roof of his mouth; Klebold went down on his knees and shot himself in the left temple with his TEC-9. An article by The Rocky Mountain News stated that Patti Nielson overheard them shout "One! Two! Three!" in unison, just before a loud boom. Nielson later said that she had never spoken with either of the writers of the article.

In 2002, the National Enquirer published two post-mortem photos of Harris and Klebold in the library. Klebold's gun was underneath his body and so unseen in the photo, leading to speculation that Harris shot Klebold before killing himself. However, some of Klebold's blood was on Harris's legs. Also, just before shooting himself, Klebold lit a Molotov cocktail on a nearby table, underneath which Patrick Ireland was lying, which caused the tabletop to momentarily catch fire. Underneath the scorched film of material was a piece of Harris's brain matter, suggesting Harris had shot himself by this point.

Crisis ends

SWAT response

A survivor recalls the events of the day

Leawood Elementary

Meanwhile, families of students and staff were asked to gather at nearby Leawood Elementary School to await information. All students, teachers, and school employees were taken away, questioned, and offered medical care in small holding areas before being bussed to meet with their family members at Leawood Elementary. Some of the victims' families were told to wait on one final school bus that never came.[further explanation needed ]

The boy in the window

"1 bleeding to death"

At 2:15 p.m., students placed a sign in the window: "1 bleeding to death", in order to alert police and medical personnel of Dave Sanders' location in the science room. Police initially feared it was a ruse by the shooters. A shirt was also tied to the doorknob. At 2:30, this was spotted, and by 2:40, SWAT officers evacuated the room of students and called for a paramedic. Hancey and Starkey were reluctant to leave Sanders behind. By 3:00, the SWAT officers had moved Sanders to a storage room, which was more easily accessible. As they did so, a paramedic arrived and found Sanders had no pulse. He had died of his injuries in the storage room before he could receive medical care. He was the only teacher to die in the shooting.

Suicide mission; estimated 25 dead

Lisa Kreutz, shot in the shoulder, arms, hand, and thigh, remained lying in the library. She had tried to move but became light-headed. Kreutz kept track of time by the sound of the school's bells until police arrived.[citation needed ] Kreutz was finally evacuated at 3:22 p.m., along with Patti Nielson, Brian Anderson, and the three library staff who had hidden in the rooms adjacent to the library. Officials found the bodies in the library by 3:30.

President Bill Clinton's remarks regarding the shooting on April 20, 1999

By 4:00, Sheriff John P. Stone made an initial estimate of 25 dead students and teachers, fifty wounded, and referred to the massacre as a "suicide mission". President Bill Clinton later issued a statement.

Bomb squad response

Stone said that police officers were searching the bodies of the gunmen. They feared they had used their pipe bombs to booby-trap corpses, including their own. At 4:30 p.m., the school was declared safe. At 5:30, additional officers were called in, as more explosives were found in the parking lot and on the roof. By 6:15, officials had found a bomb in Klebold's car in the parking lot, set to detonate the gas tank. Stone then marked the entire school as a crime scene.[citation needed ]

At 10:40 p.m., a member of the bomb squad, who was attempting to dispose of an un-detonated pipe bomb, accidentally lit a striking match attached to the bomb by brushing it against the wall of the ordnance disposal trailer. The bomb detonated inside the trailer but no one was injured.

The bomb squad disarmed the car bomb. Klebold's car was repaired and, in 2006, put up for auction.

Immediate aftermath

Clinton's remarks to the Columbine High School community on May 20, 1999

At 10:00 a.m., the bomb squad declared the building safe for officials to enter. By 11:30 a.m., a spokesman of the sheriff declared the investigation underway. Thirteen of the bodies were still inside the high school as investigators photographed the building.

At 2:30 p.m., a press conference was held by Jefferson County District Attorney David Thomas and Sheriff John Stone, at which they said that they suspected others had helped plan the shooting. Formal identification of the dead had not yet taken place, but families of the children thought to have been killed had been notified.

Throughout the late afternoon and early evening, the bodies were gradually removed from the school and taken to the Jefferson County Coroner's Office to be identified and autopsied. By 5:00 p.m., the names of many of the dead were known. An official statement was released, naming the 15 confirmed deaths and 27 injuries related to the massacre.

On April 22, the cafeteria bombs were discovered.

In the days following the shootings, Rachel Scott's car and John Tomlin's truck became memorials, and impromptu memorials were held in Clement Park. On April 30, carpenter Greg Zanis erected fifteen 6-foot-tall wooden crosses to honor those who had died at the school. Daniel Rohrbough's father cut down the two meant for the gunmen. There were also fifteen trees planted, and he cut down two of those as well.

In November 2021, a report was leaked to NPR about that year's National Rifle Association convention in Denver. In a series of audio tapes, Wayne LaPierre and other top officials suggested raising one million dollars for the victims' families, and the cancellation of the convention was considered by some within the organization.

Search warrant press conference

Also on April 30, high-ranking officials of Jefferson County and the Jefferson County Sheriff's Office met to decide if they should reveal that Michael Guerra had drafted an affidavit for a search warrant of Harris's residence more than a year before the shootings, based on his previous investigation of Harris's website and activities. Since the affidavit's contents lacked the necessary probable cause, they decided not to disclose this information at a press conference held on April 30, nor did they mention it in any other way.

Over the next two years, Guerra's original draft and investigative file documents were lost. In September 1999, a Jefferson County investigator failed to find the documents during a secret search of the county's computer system. A second attempt in late 2000 found copies of the document within the Jefferson County archives. Their loss was termed "troubling" by a grand jury convened after the file's existence was reported in April 2001. It was concealed by the Jefferson County Sheriff's Office and not revealed until September 2001, resulting from an investigation by the TV show . The documents were reconstructed and released to the public, but the original documents are still missing. The final grand jury investigation was released in September 2004.

Christian martyrdom

In the wake of the shooting, victims Rachel Scott and Cassie Bernall came to be regarded as Christian martyrs by Evangelical Christians. Christian churches used the martyr narrative of Scott's and Bernall's deaths to promote themselves and recruit members.

We are Columbine

Secondary casualties

Six months after the shootings, Anne Marie Hochhalter's mother killed herself. Several former students and teachers had PTSD. Greg Barnes, a 17-year-old student who had witnessed Sanders' shooting, committed suicide in May 2000. Survivor Austin Eubanks, who was injured during the shooting, became heavily medicated, developing an opioid addiction. Eventually overcoming and later speaking publicly about the addiction, Eubanks died from an accidental overdose in 2019 at the age of 37.

Conspiracy theories and misinformation

In the immediate aftermath, conspiracy theories and unfounded claims were made by several anti-government movements and extremist religious and political movements, such as the Westboro Baptist Church and televangelist Jerry Falwell Sr.

Westboro's founder and then-leader, Fred Phelps, unfoundedly claimed that both Harris and Klebold were gay, saying: "Two filthy fags slaughtered 13 people at Columbine High." Falwell also claimed that Harris and Klebold were gay, though he retracted afterward.

Other antisemitic conspiracy theories pointed to the massacre being a Jewish conspiracy, due to Klebold's mother being Jewish.

The shooting was planned as a terrorist attack that would cause "the most deaths in U.S. history", but the motive has never been ascertained with any degree of certainty. In a letter provided with the May 15 report on the Columbine attack, Sheriff John Stone and Undersheriff John A. Dunaway wrote they "cannot answer the most fundamental question-why?" In the days following the event, media speculation regarding the killers' motive was rife. Media reports were disseminated suggesting various motives of the killers, although all theories were largely unsubstantiated and turned out to be myths. These reports included blaming bullying, goth culture, video games, Marilyn Manson, and targeting jocks and minorities. Other rumors were spread in the local area but not largely disseminated by the media, such as the false claim spread by some students that the killers were bullied because they were homosexual.

Mental disorder

FBI's theory

The FBI concluded that the killers had mental illnesses, that Harris was a clinical psychopath, and Klebold had depression. Dwayne Fuselier, the supervisor in charge of the Columbine investigation, would later remark: "I believe Eric went to the school to kill and didn't care if he died, while Dylan wanted to die and didn't care if others died as well."

In April 1998, a year prior to the shooting, as part of his diversion program, Harris wrote a letter of apology to the owner of the van he and Klebold broke into earlier that year. Around the same time, he derided the owner of the van in his journal, stating that he believed he had the right to steal something if he wanted to. By far the most prevalent theme in Klebold's journals is his wish for suicide and private despair at his lack of success with women, which he refers to as an "infinite sadness". Klebold had repeatedly documented his desires to kill himself, and his final remark in the Basement Tapes, shortly before the attack, is a resigned statement made as he glances away from the camera: "Just know I'm going to a better place. I didn't like life too much."

The FBI's theory was used by Dave Cullen for his 2009 book . Harris was depicted as the mastermind, having a messianic-level superiority complex and hoping to demonstrate his superiority to the world. Klebold was a follower who primarily participated in the massacre as a means to simply end his life.

This theory has been met with criticism. Critics cite the fact that Klebold, not Harris, was the first to mention a killing spree in his journal. They also cite evidence that Harris was depressed as well, such as his prescription for antidepressants mentioned below.

Other theories

There have been other attempts to diagnose Harris and Klebold with mental illness. Peter Langman believes Harris was a psychopath and Klebold was schizotypal. Professor Aubrey Immelman published a personality profile of Harris, based on journal entries and personal communication, and believes the materials suggested behavior patterns consistent with a " malignant narcissism... pathological narcissistic personality disorder with borderline and antisocial features, along with some paranoid traits, and unconstrained aggression."

Medication

Opponents of contemporary psychiatry like Peter Breggin claim that the psychiatric medications prescribed to Harris may have exacerbated his aggressiveness. Harris had complained of depression, anger, and suicidal thoughts, for which he was prescribed antidepressants. Toxicology reports confirmed that Harris had Luvox in his bloodstream at the time of the shootings, whereas Klebold had no medications in his system. Harris continued his scheduled meetings with his psychologist until a few months before the massacre.

Media speculation

Accounts from various parents and school staffers reported bullying in the school. Reportedly, Harris and Klebold were regularly called " faggots". Klebold said on the Basement Tapes, "You've been giving us shit for years. However, they also stated that nobody is to blame and nobody could've prevented the attack on the tapes. Dylan when talking to his father about the jocks had stated, "They sure give Eric hell." but he also said that the jocks tended to leave him [Dylan] alone. Brown also noted Harris was born with mild chest indent. This made him reluctant to take his shirt off in gym class, and other students would laugh at him. Nathan Vanderau, a friend of Klebold, and Alisa Owen, who knew Harris, noted they were picked on. Vanderau recalled that a "cup of fecal matter" was thrown at them.

It has been alleged that Harris and Klebold were once both confronted by a group of students at CHS who sprayed them with ketchup while referring to them as "faggots" and " queers". Klebold told his mother it had been the worst day of his life. According to Brown, "That happened while teachers watched. They couldn't fight back. They wore the ketchup all day and went home covered with it." According to classmate Chad Laughlin, it involved seniors pelting Klebold with "ketchup-covered tampons" in the commons. Laughlin also stated "A lot of the tension in the school came from the class above us...There were people fearful of walking by a table where you knew you didn't belong, stuff like that. Certain groups certainly got preferential treatment across the board."

A similar theory was expounded by Brooks Brown in his book on the massacre, No Easy Answers; he noted that teachers commonly ignored bullying and that when Harris and Klebold were bullied by the jocks at CHS, they would make statements such as: "Don't worry, man. It happens all the time!"

Cullen and others dispute the theory of "revenge for bullying" as a motivation. While acknowledging the pervasiveness of bullying in high schools including CHS, Cullen claimed they were not victims of bullying. He noted Harris was more often the perpetrator than victim of bullying. In a fact check published on April 19, 2019, on the eve of the commemoration of the 20th anniversary of the massacre, Gillian Brockell in The Washington Post underscored that, contrary to the popular view, their attack was not revenge for being bullied. Author Jeff Kass who has published a book on the attack believes that bullying wasn't the cause. Peter Langman also argues against bullying being the cause of the attack. Other researchers have also argued against the bullying hypothesis.

Rejection was also highlighted as a cause. Social cliques within high schools such as the Trench Coat Mafia were widely discussed. One perception formed was that Harris and Klebold were both outcasts who had been isolated from their classmates, prompting feelings of helplessness, insecurity, and depression, as well as a strong need for power and attention. Harris's last journal entry reads, "I hate you people for leaving me out of so many fun things", while Klebold wrote "The lonely man strikes with absolute rage." In an interview, Brown described them as the school's worst outcasts, "the losers of the losers".

This concept too has been questioned, as both Harris and Klebold had a close circle of friends and a wider informal social group. Cullen and Brockell both also say they were not in the Trench Coat Mafia and were not isolated outcasts or loners. Peter Langman concurs by also arguing against the pair being loners and outcasts.

Political terrorism

Sociologist Ralph Larkin has theorized that the massacre was to trigger a revolution of outcast students and the dispossessed: "[A]s an overtly political act in the name of oppressed students victimized by their peers. [...] The Columbine shootings redefined such acts not merely as revenge but as a means of protest of bullying, intimidation, social isolation, and public rituals of humiliation."

In contrast with the theory that attack was political, one author argues Columbine was only increasingly linked to terrorism after the September 11 attacks.

Marilyn Manson

In the late 1990s, Marilyn Manson and his eponymous band established themselves as a household name, and as one of the most controversial rock acts in music history. Their two album releases prior to the massacre were both critical and commercial successes, and by the time of their Rock Is Dead Tour in 1999, the frontman had become a culture war iconoclast and a rallying icon for alienated youth.

Immediately after the massacre, a significant portion of blame was directed at the band and, specifically, at its outspoken frontman. In the weeks following the shootings, media reports about Harris and Klebold portrayed them and the Trench Coat Mafia as part of a gothic cult. Early media reports alleged that the shooters were fans, and were wearing the group's T-shirts during the massacre. Although these claims were later proven to be false, news outlets continued to run sensationalist stories with headlines such as "Killers Worshipped Rock Freak Manson" and "Devil-Worshipping Maniac Told Kids To Kill". Speculation in national media and among the public led many to believe that Manson's music and imagery were the shooter's sole motivation, despite reports that revealed that the two were not big fans.

Despite this, Marilyn Manson were widely criticized by religious, political, and entertainment-industry figures. Under mounting pressure in the days after Columbine, the group postponed their last five North American tour dates out of respect for the victims and their families. Manson published his response to these accusations in an op-ed piece for Rolling Stone, titled "Columbine: Whose Fault Is It?", in which he castigated America's gun culture, the political influence of the National Rifle Association, and the media's irresponsible coverage, which he said facilitated the placing of blame on a scapegoat. After concluding the European and Japanese legs of their tour on August 8, the band withdrew from public view to work on their next album, 2000'sHoly Wood (In the Shadow of the Valley of Death) as an artistic rebuttal to the allegations leveled against them.

Video games

They are able to hook into the Internet and play video games that are extraordinarily violent, that cause the blood pressure to rise and the adrenaline level to go up, games that cause people to be killed and the players to die themselves. It is a very intense experience. They are able to get into Internet chat rooms and, if there are no nuts or people of the same mentality in their hometown, hook up with people around the country. They are able to rent from the video store-not just go down and see Natural Born Killers or The Basketball Diaries-but they are able to bring it home and watch it repeatedly. In this case, even maybe make their own violent film. Many have said this murder was very much akin to The Basketball Diaries, in which a student goes in and shoots others in the classroom. I have seen a video of that, and many others may have.

-Chairman of the Senate Judiciary Committee Subcommittee on Youth Violence, Senator Jeff Sessions, testifying before the Senate on the Columbine tragedy, 1999.

Violent video games were also blamed. Parents of some of the victims filed several unsuccessful lawsuits against video game manufacturers. Jerald Block believes their immersion in a virtual world best explains the massacre. While Brooks Brown disagrees that video games caused the massacre, he agrees elements of their plan came from video games.

Harris and Klebold were both fans of shooter video games such as Doom, Quake, Duke Nukem 3D and . A file on Harris's computer read the massacre will "be like the LA riots, the Oklahoma bombing, WWII, Vietnam, Duke and Doom all mixed together." In his last journal entry, Harris wished to "Get a few extra frags on the scoreboard." After the massacre, it was alleged Harris created Doom and Duke Nukem 3D levels resembling CHS, but these were never found.

They were avid fans of Doom especially. Harris said of the massacre, "It's going to be like... Doom." He also wrote "I must not be sidetracked by my feelings of sympathy...so I will force myself to believe that everyone is just another monster from Doom." In Harris's yearbook, Klebold wrote "I find a similarity between people and Doom zombies."[citation needed ] Harris named his shotgun Arlene after a character in the Doom novels. The TEC-9 Klebold used resembled an AB-10, a weapon from the Doom novels that Harris referenced several times.

Harris spent a great deal of time creating a large WAD, named Tier (German for 'animal', and a song by Rammstein), calling it his "life's work".[better source needed ] The WAD was uploaded to the Columbine school computer and to AOL shortly before the attack, but appears to have been lost.

The other game mentioned specifically by Harris for what the massacre would be like was Duke Nukem 3D. The game has pipe bombs and one of the enemies is the "pig cop". Brooks Brown wrote that pipe bombs were set in the halls of the school with the intention of causing a chain reaction, because that's what happens in Duke Nukem 3D. Brown also wrote they shot wildly because it works in Duke Nukem 3D.

Following the Columbine shooting, schools across the United States instituted new security measures such as see-through backpacks, metal detectors, school uniforms, and security guards. Some schools implemented the numbering of school doors in order to improve public safety response. Several schools throughout the country resorted to requiring students to wear computer-generated IDs.

Schools also adopted a zero tolerance approach to possession of weapons and threatening behavior by students. Despite the effort, several social science experts feel the zero tolerance approach adopted in schools has been implemented too harshly, with unintended consequences creating other problems. Despite the safety measures that were implemented in the wake of the tragedy at Columbine, school shootings continued to take place in the United States, including at Virginia Tech, Sandy Hook Elementary School, Stoneman Douglas High School, and Robb Elementary School.

Some schools renewed existing anti-bullying policies. Rachel's Challenge was started by Rachel Scott's parents, and lectures schools about bullying and suicide.

Police tactics

Parents of some of the victims filed several unsuccessful lawsuits against film companies, over films such as The Basketball Diaries, which includes a dream sequence with a student shooting his classmates in a trench coat. In the Basement Tapes, they debate on whether or not Steven Spielberg or Quentin Tarantino are appropriate choices to direct films about the massacre. Their home videos also show inspiration taken from Pulp Fiction. Both were fans of the film Lost Highway. Apocalypse Now was found in Harris's VCR.

Many impromptu memorials were created after the massacre, including victims Rachel Scott's car and John Tomlin's truck.

Soon after the massacre, music students at CU Boulder raised money to commission a piece of music to honor Columbine. The university band turned to Frank Ticheli, who responded by composing the wind ensemble work An American Elegy. The following year, the Columbine band premiered the piece at CU Boulder's concert hall. As of 2019, Ticheli's sheet music publisher estimates An American Elegy has been performed 10,000 times.

Gun control

The shooting resulted in calls for more gun control measures. The gun show loophole and background checks became a focus of a national debate. It was the deadliest mass shooting during the era of the Federal Assault Weapons Ban. Victim Daniel Mauser's father Tom Mauser has become a gun control advocate.

In 2000, federal and state legislation was introduced that would require safety locks on firearms as well as ban the importation of high-capacity ammunition magazines. Though laws were passed that made it a crime to buy guns for criminals and minors, there was considerable controversy over legislation pertaining to background checks at gun shows. There was concern in the gun lobby over restrictions on Second Amendment rights in the United States. Frank Lautenberg introduced a proposal to close the gun show loophole in federal law. It was passed in the Senate, but did not pass in the House.

Michael Moore's 2002 documentary Bowling for Columbine focused heavily on the American obsession with handguns, its grip on Jefferson County, and its role in the shooting.

Popular culture

"Columbine" has since become a euphemism for a school shooting, rather like " going postal" is for workplace violence.

Since the advent of social media, a fandom for shooters Harris and Klebold has had a documented presence on social media sites, especially Tumblr. Fans of Harris and Klebold refer to themselves as "Columbiners". An article published in 2015 in the Journal of Transformative Works, a scholarly journal which focuses on the sociology of fandoms, noted that Columbiners were not fundamentally functionally different from more mainstream fandoms. Columbiners create fan art and fan fiction, even cosplaying the pair, and have a scholarly interest in the shooting.

A number of books, movies and other media have been inspired by this event. Among those are several video games. A video game called Super Columbine Massacre RPG! was based on the massacre. The Flash game Pico's School was also inspired by it.

The Columbine shootings influenced subsequent school shootings, with several such plots mentioning it. Fear of copycats has sometimes led to the closing of entire school districts. Since Columbine, over 74 copycat cases have been reported, 21 of which resulted in attacks, while the rest were thwarted by law enforcement. In many of them, the perpetrators cited Harris and Klebold as heroes or martyrs.

Harris and Klebold have become what the Napa Valley Register have called " cultural icons" for troubled youth. According to psychiatrist E. Fuller Torrey of the Treatment Advocacy Center, a legacy of the Columbine shootings is its "allure to disaffected youth".

Sociologist Ralph Larkin examined twelve major school shootings in the US in the following eight years and found that in eight of those, "the shooters made explicit reference to Harris and Klebold". Larkin wrote that the Columbine massacre established a " script" for shootings. "Numerous post-Columbine rampage shooters referred directly to Columbine as their inspiration; others attempted to supersede the Columbine shootings in body count."

A 2015 investigation by CNN identified "more than 40 people...charged with Columbine-style plots". A 2014 investigation by ABC News identified "at least 17 attacks and another 36 alleged plots or serious threats against schools since the assault on Columbine High School that can be tied to the 1999 massacre." Ties identified by ABC News included online research by the perpetrators into the Columbine shooting, clipping news coverage and images of Columbine, explicit statements of admiration of Harris and Klebold, such as writings in journals and on social media, in video posts, and in police interviews, timing planned to an anniversary of Columbine, plans to exceed the Columbine victim counts, and other ties.

In 2015, journalist Malcolm Gladwell writing in The New Yorker magazine proposed a threshold model of school shootings in which Harris and Klebold were the triggering actors in "a slow-motion, ever-evolving riot, in which each new participant's action makes sense in reaction to and in combination with those who came before."

In February 2016, after Klebold's mother, Sue Klebold, surfaced to speak out on mental health and suicide prevention, she was condemned by then Attorney General of Colorado, Cynthia Coffman, who tweeted that Klebold had been "irresponsible and inflammatory" for her interview with Diane Sawyer. She also added on a follow-up tweet that Klebold had been "selfish" and that her interview could have "very negative consequences". Coffman's remarks were condemned by Ted Zocco-Hochhalter, father of a student paralyzed in the attack, who said there was nothing wrong with Klebold coming up as a remorseful mother trying to spark awareness on mental issues. Other mental health organizations echoed Zocco-Hochhalter's remarks.

References

Bibliography

Cited works

Further reading

Primary sources

"The Columbine Report". Salon.com. May 16, 2000. Archived from the original on May 1, 2001. "CD". CNN and Jeffco Sheriff's Office.

"Columbine Report documents, the "11k"". Jeffco Sheriff's Office.

Eric Harris's journal called "The Book of God", Archived September 4, 2015, at the Wayback Machine, acolumbinesite.com. Another transcription

Dylan Klebold's journal called "The Book of Existences", Another transcription, includes yearbook

"The Basement Tapes". Acolumbinesite.com. Archived from the original on November 25, 2010.

External links

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Columbine High School massacre - Wikipedia

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Columbine High School massacre Part of mass shootings in the United States and school shootings in the United States Location Columbine, Colorado, U.S. Date April 20, 1999; 24 years ago 11:19a.m. - 12:08p.m.

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I'm working on the second chapter for my book 🥳 IT should be out soon!

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https://www.wattpad.com/story/321869088-e-i-crepuscular-light-nightfall

Note: The Padlet and Docs versions are different compared to the Wattpad version. The Wattpad version was edited beforehand.

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I don't know my name.

    Born in an Asian village, Subject-174 was a normal boy. But at the tender age of 6 (5 in the modern age system), his village was massacred. He watched his family fail to protect him and gruesomely die. He was then taken to an E.F, the place where he'd spend the next 8 years of his life. Not only did he escape at age 14 and become the tenth escapee, but he also became Korea's most wanted criminal by age 15. Everyone knows what he looks like, yet no one can catch him. But Subject has always stayed true to his intent, finding the rest of his family. Nevertheless, his plans are thrown into disarray when he sees an extremely fast humanoid shadow in a very mysterious forest. That same day, he receives a word on a slab of concrete, the first of many. Then, enter Kersai Vu, Subject's hot, kind, flirtatious savior. Subject and Kersai end up getting along well, and they seem to always be crossing paths. He seems trustworthy, and he's the first person Subject's trusted immediately in a long time. But, Subject learns that he can't trust everyone finds himself in the hands of Korea's most infamous gang, E.I.

    #action
    #adventure
    #fiction
    #criminal
    #criminalfiction
    #gang
    #violence
    #gangviolence
    #deaths
    #betrayal
    #experiment
    #magic
    #hotguy
    #flirty
    #flirtationship
    #lost
    #unrequitedlove
    #protective
    #emotional
    #kidnap
    #bloody
    #mentalillness
    #suicide
    #supernatural
    #southkorea
    #heartbreak
    #selfdiscovery
    #mystery

    -> Book one of the E.I series <-

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E.I: Crepuscular Light (Nightfall) - Serendipity - Wattpad

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I don't know my name. Born in an Asian village, Subject-174 was a normal boy. But at the tender age of 6 (5 in the modern age system), his village was massacre...

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BIG BIG thanks to Sunnibunni (solidified) for the name of KNAF. <3

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BIG BIG thanks to Sunnibunni (solidified) for the name of KNAF. <3

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Outcasts

KNAF Rising

By: loki

CHAPTER ONE

Jericho

Pain. That’s one of the few things I remember. And Jericho. My name. I kept saying it to myself over and over, making sure I didn't lose that too. “Jericho… Jericho..” I muttered.

“Jericho.” This time it wasn’t me. “Yeah..” I mumbled. “How do you feel?” I blinked a few times, trying to see who was talking. “Forgetful,” I answered. “Do you know who we are?” the person asked. “No..” I felt people grab my arms and drag me somewhere. “You will soon.”

I spent the next several days in a small confined room- a room that had nothing but a bed. I was brought food- something I did remember. After what felt like a million days, the door opened. A light flooded in the room, causing me to squint. “Jericho. TIme for you to meet your squad.” Squad? I didn’t have much time to think about what that meant. I was escorted out and brought to a table. There were three other people there. Two guys and a girl. “Yay another boy.” The girl muttered. One of the guys grinned, he was tall with brown hair and brown eyes. The girl had short blonde hair and similar brown eyes to the other boy. The other boy sat straight and smiled at me, his greenish-blue eyes unsettling me. “Hello. It is great to have you.” I was thrusted into the empty chair and I looked around the table. “I’m..Jericho.” I gulped. The tall one watched as the people who brought me here walked away. “I’m Collin.” The girl tapped the table. “Ashley.” The one who smiled at me stared at me, hardly blinking. “I am John. It is great to have you.” I looked around. The place had several tables, with four people at each one. “What is this place? Why can’t I remember anything?” Collin patted my arm. “We’ll explain everything.” Collin turned to John. “John. May you get us some more water?” he asked. John smiled and nodded. “Of course!” he said. John got up and walked away. Collin turned to me with a serious look. “Is this place good?” he asked. “Um,. I.. I don’t know-” Collin smiled and Ashley looked up. “I don’t believe it. Third person.” Ashley rolled her eyes. “Hurrah. He’s not special or anything.” I looked at Ashley. “Forgive her, she expected another girl.” Ashley slapped Collin’s arm. “Shut up!” she scolded. “What do you mean a third person?” I asked. Collin rubbed his chin. “It’s a lot to explain. You’re gonna spend today meeting us and talking to us. We’ll take you around and stuff. We’ll explain everything.” I nodded. I wasn’t exactly freaking out, but I felt like I knew this place, and that it wasn’t good. John came back with the water, setting it down carefully. Collin tapped my arm. “We’ll show you the dorm.” I got up and stumbled. I looked down. I was wearing gray pants and a shirt to match. They weren’t all that comfortable, but they would work. “You said your name was Jericho?” Collin asked. I nodded. “Jericho, um, I don’t remember my last name. Sorry.” Collin shrugged. “None of us do. They wipe us. Our memories, I mean. C’mon I’ll tell you stuff along the way.” He tugged on my arm and I started walking. “So this place is called the KNAF. Kasanari National Armed Forces.” I looked at him. “Kasanari?” Collin nodded. “Yeah. We’re in the state of Kasanari. But their armies and militaries are everywhere. Not much to protect after the Big Disaster.” I looked at the ground as I walked. “The Big Disaster?” Collin’s eyes darkened. “Yeah. Several decades ago the earth was fine. Then all of the sudden a bunch of natural disasters popped up. Tornados, tsunamis, hurricanes. The population went from about 8 billion, to three billion.” I shook my head. “Wow. That sounds terrible.” Collin nodded. “It brought about a  bunch of diseases. Those killed off another several million. Then, the KNAF comes in. They want to..” Collin looked around and shoved me into a room. “Jericho listen to me carefully.” I shoved his hand off. “What the heck? What?” Collin looked serious. “This place isn’t good. They try to mess with your mind. Like with John.” I stared at him .”John seemed nice.” Collin took a deep breath. “That’s because it worked for him. Ashley and I noticed that we didn’t act the same, but we decided to blend in. We’ve seen people come in here one way, and walk out totally different. But you seem fine. Tell me, is this place bad?” I nodded. “If what you're saying is true.” Collin smiled grimly. “Good. They would never let you say that. Jericho, act like you love this place. Okay?” I nodded. “Yeah. Will do.” Collin walked out and dusted himself off. I felt like I was being hit with a million bullets. Ashley walked up to us. “Are you guys done talking?” She asked. Collin nodded, “I told him some of what we know.” Ashley eyed me. “But how can we trust him?” she pondered. “I swear I don’t even know what I’m doing here-” I said. Collin held a hand up. “He better not tell anyone. Or there will be consequences.” Collin looked at me. I clenched my jaw. “I won’t.” Collin then looked at me with sad eyes. “After today they’re gonna brand you.” Collin lifted his shirtsleeve and there was a circle, with a hawk's face facing forward and snakes protruding from the eyes, curling around torches. The circle was about two and a half inches wide. The skin was raised and looked permanent. “Does it hurt?” I asked. Ashley nodded. “Yes. For several hours.” Collin nodded. “We’ll be at the dorm with ice and stuff.” Ashley started walking. “Speaking of the dorm. It’s just up ahead.”  Collin led me to a room that had gray walls. We walked in and Collin spread his arms. “Ta-da!” he said. I looked around. There were three beds, all about three feet apart. “Ashely sleeps in the room through that door.” Collin pointed to a door adjacent to the one we just walked into. “So she can have her privacy.” Ashley walked into the room and closed the door. I sat down on the bed that had nothing on it. “Comfy,” I said. Collin sat next to me. “To explain the memory thing, you can, obviously, remember to speak and all that right? What a bed is, water, all that?” I nodded. “But, you can’t pinpoint where you learned it or from whom, right?” I nodded again. “Yeah. They leave the small stuff, but take away all of the big stuff. It hurts your brain if you think too much about it.” I nodded for a third time. “You okay Jericho?” I looked at Collin. “Were you okay when you first got here?” Collin swallowed and shook his head. “Nah. Not for the first few days. I had Ashley though.” I cleared my throat. “Are you two..like..together?” I asked. Collin grinned. “Heck no. She’s my sister.” I put my head in my hands. “Oh. That’s nice.” Collin patted my arm. “Sleep. You’re gonna need it. They’re gonna take you in the morning for your..branding. I would have shown you more, but you need sleep. As long as you don’t tell anyone we let you slack off.” Collin grinned and I grimly smiled. “My mouth is sealed.” Collin got up and I leaned back on the bed. I closed my eyes and drifted off.

I thought I’d wake up sometime before the next morning, but I was wrong. “Jericho. We need you to come to the branding room. It’ll be quick. We’ll explain on the way.”

CHAPTER 2

Collin

I waited for Jericho to come back. Jericho was pretty nice, but he seems distant. I guess we were all like that. Ashley walked over to me. “Why are you so worried about him? We just met him.” I looked at my sister. “He’s our friend now.” Ashley sighed. “But I thought it was gonna be someone I could actually relate to. Talk about problems.” Ashley slumped down on the bed next to me. “You can talk to me,” I said. Ashley rolled her eyes. “Girl problems, Collin. I can’t talk to you about that.” I laughed. “But you can about anything else.” That was when the door opened and a grunting Jericho was thrown into the room. He was clutching his arm, writhing in pain. “Ashley, get the ice!” I said loudly. Ashley rushed to the bathroom to get the ice we had in a bag. I kneeled down and flipped Jericho so he was facing upward. He had a thin burn mark under his left eye. “Did they try to brand your face?” I asked. Jericho shook his head and merely said in a pained voice, “Complications.” Ashley came back with the ice and we helped Jericho into a sitting position. Ashley pressed the ice to his arm and Jericho groaned. “I know it hurts,” Ashley said in a soft voice. Ashley was amazing at calming people. “As I was saying,” Jericho began after all the gasping. “I freaked out and flinched too much I guess. The brander went flying and barely hit me in the face. Complication.” Jericho closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Why are they branding us again? They told me but I was too scared to understand.” Ashley wiped the blood off of Jericho’s arm and put the ice back. “So then they can say they own us or whatever,” she said. Jericho stared at the ground. Jericho clutched his head and started grunting. I stepped forward and put my hand on his shoulder. “Are you okay?” Jericho nodded. “I keep having these memory things. Like I remember something for a split second and then it’s gone and all I have is a couple minute headache.” I looked at Ashley with curious eyes. If Jericho could remember…. “So you said you don’t remember what you remembered?”  I asked him.  Jericho shook his head. “No I don’t. Why?” I shook my head. “I thought maybe you could remember stuff about the world. Specific. Cause then we’d know all isn’t lost. Maybe it’s a side effect.” Jericho nodded. “Yeah probably.” Ashley handed the ice to Jericho and walked over to me. I couldn’t help but feeling sorry for Jericho. Seeing him on the ground, helpless and in pain made me hurt inside. My sister always said I cared too much about people, but I always thought I never cared enough. “Jericho, buddy we should go to breakfast.” Jericho looked around. “Where’s John?” he asked, craning his neck back and forth. “He was helping get the stage ready for the head of KNAF. She’s coming today.” Jericho looked puzzled. “The head of KNAF? Why’s she coming here?” I shrugged. “She does it once every two years to tell us to ‘fight for KNAF’ and dumb stuff like that.” Jericho still looked confused. “Fight? Why are we here anyway? Are we fighting?” I looked at Ashley and she nodded slightly. “Yes Jericho. They’re preparing us.” Jericho coughed. “For what?” I sighed. “The Outcasts. They’re people who don’t agree with KNAF. There’s about as much of them as there is of us. But they don’t brainwash you or take your memories.” “How would you know?” I tasted bile in my throat. “Because we’ve fought them before.” I opened my bedside drawer, revealing an assortment of knives and a small badge. “Woah. Did you steal this?” Jericho looked at me with a small amount of worry in his eyes. “No. I am a KNAF scout. Which means I go on the field from time to time but I just help the wounded. But if they require it, I go out and fight some of the smaller and less artillery-equipped ones.” Jericho scratched his face where the burn was and winced. “You fight them?” I shrugged. “Kill or be killed I guess.” I got up and walked out. Jericho and Ashley followed close behind. I looked back and saw Jericho messing with his black hair, trying to flatten it. His blue eyes stayed fixed on the ground. We arrived at the auditorium and sat at our table. Trays of eggs and bacon were brought to us. John sat down with us. “Fine day isn’t it?” He asked. It was always hard not to laugh with the way he talked. He began cutting his bacon and eggs with a fork and knife, but I just used my hands. Jericho picked up a piece of bacon and started poking his lump of eggs. “Eat, Jericho. You’ll feel way better.” Jericho looked at me and started nibbling his bacon. Ashley was staring at Jericho, trying to get a read on him. Yeah, Ashley thinks she’s some kind of psychic and can read people's lives. She had tried reading John but he just kept doing his weird robot smile and eventually she gave up. It was starting to annoy me because Ashley was rubbing her temples while staring at Jericho. Jericho noticed her and stopped chewing. I thought I’d have a bit of fun and make Ashley lose focus. “Stop making googly eyes Ash.” Ashley choked and Jericho raised his eyebrows. “I was not making googly eyes, I was just lost in thought.” I leaned in and whispered in Ashley’s ear, “Were you lost in his eyes?” Ashley slapped my arm and folded her arms. I snickered and Jericho frowned. “Ah, c’mon Jericho it was a joke.” Jericho shook his head. “No.. she looks evil.” I made a face. “Ashley?!” Jericho shook his head again. He pointed at the east entrance. To the head of KNAF. She was a tall woman, with curly black hair and thin, catlike eyes. She was about 60, and she had all black clothes on. She stepped up on the stage and tapped the microphone. “Hello all of you fine KNAF candidates!” Everybody raised a hand in salute. “I am, as you all know, and for any new people, Claire! It is my job, and my duty to ensure that the lives of every human being in KNAF is safe, secure, and healthy. I know it’s been a hard road. What with the.. what do they call themselves.. The Outcasts!” Everyone made booing noises. “They have tried and tried again, trying to take us down! All we want is for the governments of what is left of this earth to unite! And create a peaceful, purposeful, blossoming planet! I am aware their numbers grow in size, but so does ours! We continue getting people young and old to come and fight for us. And for that I thank each and every one of you.” Ashley was staring at Jericho again. Jericho was listening intently, not taking his eyes off of Claire. “We need to rise up and take control of what is ours. For The Outcasts are just trying to steal.” I swallowed. She normally wasn’t this passionate about KNAF. “We will be receiving even more people to add to our numbers, and we will be sending out teams to lessen theirs. I know it might be hard to hurt and kill, but just remember. You are fighting for the nation of Kasanari.

We are united!” Everyone repeated, “We are united!” She kept talking about how she will continue to provide and all that. I looked at Claire and remembered a moment when I was on the field. I was running for the medic tent, because we had someone who lost an arm. I rushed to the first-aid box and started grabbing supplies and bandages, when an explosion shook the ground. I started furiously working, trying to un-infect the wound and stop the bleeding. Claire’s voice suddenly screeched in my earpiece. “Go on the field, Scout Seven!” I began working faster. “I can’t! Someone’s gonna die if I don’t help them!” There was silence for a second. “Did you just say no..to the head of KNAF’s order?” My face went white. Nobody could physically ignore her commands. The only way they could, was if the brainwash didn’t work. I gulped, if they found out that I was able to have free will, they would kill me in a second. I couldn’t do that to ashley. She would be distraught. I cleared my throat. “Sorry, Ma’am, I believe I misheard. I thought you said I have the option to go on the field if I wanted to. I will go right now.” I left the bleeding groaning person on the ground, and I ran out of the tent. After a week, when we went home, there was news. They would show a picture of everyone who died in the last conflict, and the one in the tent was up there. The one I could have saved. I snapped back to reality and I looked around. Claire was still talking, and Ashley was still staring at Jericho. Jericho never moved, listening for every single word. I felt a tear slip down my cheek. That scenario always played in my mind. Lots of people have died in fights, but none that I could have stopped. I had the medicine and bandages in my hand, yet  ran onto the field all for the sake of my own life. Right then I made a swear. If it came to protecting my life over someone else’s, I would save them in a heartbeat. Even if it meant me dying.

CHAPTER 3

Ashley

I was looking at Jericho, trying to read his facial expressions. I hated that Collin said I was doing googly eyes, cause now I was worried it would look like googly eyes. And I wasn’t lost in his eyes, even if they were a beautiful blue shade. Collin leaned forward again. “Googly.” I rolled my eyes and decided to stop looking at Jericho. At the same time I wish it were a girl, I hoped I could have a real friend for once. I had my brother, but he was related to me so that didn’t count. John was an option, but he acted like a robot. Jericho seemed nice, but then again so did KNAF when I first met them. Claire said goodbye to everyone and told us we could have the day off. I was going to have to go to gun training today, which made Collin jealous. I didn’t even want to go to gun training, so I was happy I got the day off. “However,” Claire said before everyone left. “We need a scout for the next two and a half week mission. How about..Scout Seven.” Collin’s face fell. Jericho looked around, searching for a scout seven. When Collin walked forward, a look of horror went across Jericho’s face. “We will be infiltrating an Outcast base.” I covered my mouth. “Say your goodbyes scout seven, I expect you in the mission room in three minutes. Collin walked down towards me and Jericho and I threw myself on him. “Oh, no, Collin, No!” Collin held me tightly. “I’m gonna be okay Ashley. I always am.” I looked at him. “But you’ve never been in a base! You told me you’ve never even fought!” A look went over Collin’s face for a second. Guilt, was it? “You don’t have to feel bad for not helping, these are the bad guys remember?” Collin nodded. Collin softly pushed me back. I know he wasn’t trying to be rude, but he was probably freaking out, just not showing it. “And I would like Scout nine as well. The more the merrier,” Claire said to everyone. John got up and happily ran to Claire. I looked at Jericho’s seat, except Jericho wasn’t in it. I caught a glimpse of him as he walked to the hallway to our dorm. I got up and followed him, wiping a stray tear off of my face. When I got in the dorm I could hear the shower running. I decided to give Jericho his privacy and I went to my part of the dorm and sat on my bed. After about ten minutes, I heard a knock on my door. “Who is it?” I asked. “Jericho,” I heard his soft voice say. “Oh, you can come in.” Jericho slowly opened the door. I would expect any guy to look everywhere, Commenting on how girly and gross everything was. Even though I had the same color floor and walls. Boys would take my little stuffed bear to be girly and dumb, but the truth is Collin made it and gave it to me. When we got here, When I was seven and he was eight, he would tear up old clothes that he got from the trash room and used string that he collected to make me a little bear. He used buttons from guards shirts as the eyes, and a bit of a black shirt for a smile. He stuffed it with grass and more clothes. Jericho did comment on my bear, but not how I thought he would. “That’s very greatly made. Who made it?” My lips parted in surprise. “Um, Collin did.” Jericho picked it up carefully. “It’s amazing. He must be a very loving brother.” I nodded and Jericho handed the bear back. Jericho sat on the ground. I patted next to me on my bed. “You can sit up here.” Jericho stood up. “Sorry I didn’t want to intrude on your space or anything.” he sat next to me. I was surprised by his manners. “Well. You certainly are nicer than I would have expected,” I said truthfully, And It was true, looking at him you’d think he was part of a street gang. He wasn’t incredibly buff, but he had noticeable muscles. He had a tough looking expression, but his voice came out soft and smooth. Jericho shrugged. “Maybe whoever my mother was taught me well. Or my father.” Jericho clutched his head again. He shook his head. “Gah, I hate that.” Jericho rubbed his forehead and looked back up. “Sorry.” I shrugged. “It’s okay.” Jericho cleared his throat. “So, do you think Collin is going to be okay?” I knew he was going to talk about this, so I had mentally prepared myself not to get angry at anyone. “I..don’t know. Last time they infiltrated a base, fifty people went in.” Jericho picked at his hand. “And how many came back?” He asked. “None.” Jericho nodded and covered his face. I shut my eyes tightly. “He will return.” I opened my eyes and Jericho was looking at me. “I know he will.” I nodded and patted his knee. “Well. we have the whole day. What do we do?” Jericho thought for a moment. “We can just talk.” I nodded. “Sounds amazing.” Jericho smiled small.

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No Drama

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You light me like a spark
Yet drop me like a cliff
You give me my hope
And poke me with things I've missed
You remind me who I am
And who I follow
But when I try it out...
It can end as quick as tomorrow

You burn me like a forest
And give me happiness
You place a starting line
To let me write the race,
But you is all I can find
The flames engulf my creativity,
My body, and my mind
For I am gone, and you are left- behind

But sometimes... you burn the- right way
You set the treetops on fire,
But not the forest
The smoke clouds attempt to- engulf the roaring day
You do this as a brief warning,
To all who stand in my way
You give me hope
But you don't poke me
You give me a starting line
But leave me with an identity
You slightly light the fire
You slightly light the fire
But hand me the gasoline
And once everything blows up- into a masterpiece of flames?
I'll know it's you who noticed this- in me

Poet: Soul/Echo
Date: 12/21/22
Type: slightly relatable
Note: I wrote this poem after reading some poetry on Wattpad. So you could say I was inspired to write this poem. I didn't exactly have any plans for it, but they came as I wrote. I'm glad those ideas came because... here we are.

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This is continuing the shooting- if you want to read the first part scrol down :p

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This is continuing the shooting- if you want to read the first part scrol down :p

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CHAPTER ???
I jump, looking to my left. I see black pants and black shoes. Suddenly, death seems so close. I was already thinking I was probably going to die, but right now, as I see a killer right in front of me, I feel scared. I silently say goodbyes to my family. They start to crouch, and I shut my eyes. "Alexis?!" He says. I open my eyes. "Felix," I barely breathe out. "I thought I told you to get out!" He says. Felix holds his gun to the other boy under the table to me. "No, Felix, Please no! Stop shooting people!" Felix looks at me. "You don't know what's going on in my brain." Felix coughs and sprays blood on my shirt. "What constant crap runs through it. This school has brought nothing but stress, depression, and pain. This school needs to die. Whenever I close my eyes, I see a world where I'm known. Famous. But the one I'm currently living in…the polluted, defaced world.. I can't make a name for myself any way other than a massacre. I will be known. People will dress up as me, and hurt others. Copycat shootings will be threatened upon this sorry excuse for a high school. Several wikipedia pages, news articles, books, documentaries, and movies will be made about us. Death is natural. Its just we're choosing to die now. " Cooper whoops and shoots more rounds. "But Felix this is not you! There's other ways to be known without using guns! And killing! You are a maniac!" I cry. "Alexis. I don't know if I'm going to let you live." I look at Felix. "I'm going to have-" I fling out my foot and kick him in the face. I crawl out and gesture for the other boy to follow. "Cmon!" I lead him to the open door. "Oh no you don't!" Felix holds up his gun and starts shooting. I let the boy go in first and I start to shut the door. Felix holds it open, and begins shooting through the wood of the door. I get it closed and push a table in front of the door. We're in the librarians office. The boy sits against the wall and breathes heavily. "Oh..You're shot.." he says to me. I look down. Funny I didn't feel anything. I see a bloody patch right above my hip. "Oh." I sit down and he finds a scarf on a desk. "Here put pressure." "What's your name?" I ask as I hold the scarf to my hip. I start to feel a burn sensation. "Alex," he says. I smile starting to feel woozy. "That's funny my name is Alexis." Alex smiles. "How do you feel?" He asks. "I think I'm going to pass out," I answer truthfully. "That's okay. I'll make sure neither of them come back." I feel myself start to slip. I don't even notice I pass out until I wake up. "How long was I asleep?" I ask. Alex looks over. "Only a couple minutes. They've been shooting a lot. There's a camera I've been watching." I try and get up but feel a stinging pain. "Careful. I'll bring the laptop down there." Alex takes the laptop and sets it in front of me. He turns the volume up and I see Felix walking around. I don't see Cooper. Felix has a bloody nose and a mean look. "Where's the other one?" I ask. Alex looks at me. "I don't know. He was on a second ago." As if on cue, Cooper walks into camera view. "Everyone who's still alive, today might be your lucky day. Me and Felix here are done. And we're not doing the time. We're gonna leave this school. This earth. See some of you guys in the afterlife." Cooper goes to a wall and slides down into a sitting position. Felix sits next to him. Cooper points his gun at a table and shoots one more time. He then puts his gun to his eye. Felix puts his to his throat. "Bye Felix," Cooper says. "Bye Cooper." I look away when I hear a bang. Alex winces.

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What I mean is, you can have a plan, but don't hang on to it too tightly. If the story starts to drift away from the plan, let it!

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WARNING: this book contains graphic scenes and characters with sadistic tendencies.

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WARNING: this book contains graphic scenes and characters with sadistic tendencies.

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I realized I never put an explanation for this section haha. So, this is the place where you can add details or things to keep in mind for your story. If that makes any sense

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I realized I never put an explanation for this section haha. So, this is the place where you can add details or things to keep in mind for your story. If that makes any sense

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Attention! I got stuck on my book- so I started writing the shooting. Is it bad to say "enjoy?"

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Attention! I got stuck on my book- so I started writing the shooting. Is it bad to say "enjoy?"

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CHAPTER ???

I sit down at my usual table, still wondering where Felix is. I look around, seeing if I can spot him sitting somewhere else. I hear a small ding from my backpack, and I open it. It was my phone. I grab it and click it on. I have a text message from Felix. I frantically open it up, seeing what it says. “Get out,” is all it said. I sighed. Felix was still mad. I type, “Where are you?” but no response. I’m about to give up when my phone dings again. I look at the text and it says, “Get out.” I furiously shove my phone back in my backpack. What did he mean by “get out?” I pick up my pizza and nibble the edge. I look at the school entrance and see a red truck pulling up. I stare at it, wondering who’s inside. Two people step out. They have black shirts and black pants. They’re both wearing some sort of tactical mask so I can’t see them. I hear a shout from behind me and I turn my gaze from the doors to the noise. Trenton is trying to shove a kid in the trash can. I roll my eyes and look back at the people. But they’re gone. I hear a loud click sound, and look up. The intercoms turn on with a screech. I hear a deep voice say, “I’ll give everyone thirty seconds to exit the school. Immediately. We will show no mercy.” Everyone starts talking. “It’s a prank,” someone says. Apparently that’s what everyone thinks, because they all go back to eating. I think it was weird. Right after Felix texts me to get out, someone on the intercom says to get out. I count out the seconds. Five. Four. Three. Two. One. “Your loss,” the voice says. There’s a loud bang noise coming from the principal's office. Then, the door bursts open. Two people come out, the ones in the black clothes, and hold up…guns. My eyes go wide. They start shooting, turning their guns left and right. Everyone starts screaming, and people start either running to the library or taking refuge under the tables. I run to the library, turning back once. One of the kids holds up a gun to Trenton. “THIS IS FOR ALL YOU’VE DONE TO ME!” he screams. I look away as I hear a bang. I look back and Trenton is on the ground, his head bleeding profusely. I run inside the library. I rush to the back and hide behind a bookshelf. I dial Felix's number, holding the phone up to my ear. I hear a ringing noise. I slowly peek my head over the bookshelf. One of the gunmen pull a phone from their pocket. It’s the one ringing. “No..” I whisper. I hang up, and their phone stops. I go back down, feeling like I’m having a panic attack. It had to be a coincidence. “If everyone does what we say, not many people will get hurt. Everybody up" the deep voice says. Nobody stands up. “I can’t breathe in this freaking thing,” the second, more familiar voice says. I hear a crash, and I peek around the bookshelf. They’ve taken their masks off, and I almost scream when I see who they are. Felix and Cooper. I lean against the bookshelf, hyperventilating. I hear someone start to frantically talk, I think to a 911 dispatcher. “There’s people with guns! They have gun-” I hear two loud bangs, and the person stops talking. “If anyone attempts to dial 911, they’re dead.” Felix turns to cooper. “Go see how many we got in the cafeteria. If anyone’s alive, shoot them.” This didn’t sound like Felix. At all. Cooper runs to the Cafeteria and Felix slowly starts to walk through the cafeteria. I hear Cooper shoot three times from the cafeteria, then he walks back in. Cooper has a long cut from his nose to his forehead. “What happened?” Felix asks. “Some idiot tried attacking me with a knife.” “Oh,” Felix answers. “How many in the cafeteria?” Cooper thinks for a second. “Four. Five including the person who attacked me.” Cooper looks towards my way so I whip my head back to the safety of the bookshelf. I wait ten seconds, I peek around again, and I see a kid make a run for it. Felix points his gun at him and fires twice. From what their guns looked like, they were some sort of rifle. “I’ll repeat myself one more time. Everybody up!” Cooper booms. I get my phone back out and text dad. I type, “Call the police, there's people with guns at school. HURRY!” I put my phone away and pray that my dad sees my text. “Nobody wants to get up? Okay. Then I need…a volunteer.” Cooper reaches under a table and pulls a girl out from under it. “How about you? Want to meet your maker?” he asks her. The girl cries out, “No! Let go, please!” Cooper laughs. “No thanks.” he holds up his gun and shoots her in the face. I hear several people cry out.  “What?” Cooper asks everyone. “It’s just a little blood!” He hops up onto a table that has four people under it. He shoots at the table top several times, laughing as he does so. Felix walks over to a bookshelf and points his gun behind it. “Hi,” he says to a boy that's huddling behind it. Felix shoots, watching the boy convulse with pain. It’s probably been about five minutes but it feels like hours. “We’ll be back. C’mon Felix let’s check the hallways.” they leave and slam the door behind them. Someone gets up and tries to open the door. “It’s jammed! They jammed it shut somehow!” Three more kids stand up and attempt to break the door down. “I’m going to call the police!” A girl yells. After three seconds, I hear her say, “There’s shooters in West Palm Bay High. Please hurry, they left for now but they’re going to be back,” There was silence for a few seconds. “We’re trying to, they jammed the doors. Okay..” The people trying to open the door scream, running back to their hiding places. “They’re back!” one of them screams. I hear police sirens outside. I hear the sound of glass shattering, and Felix and Cooper step through the window leading into the library. “Who…callled?” Felix asks calmly. “WHO CALLED!” he then screams. Cooper and Felix walk up to a row of windows. “Why don’t we give them a message?” Cooper asks Felix. Cooper grabs a book and a nearby pen. He starts writing while saying the words. “If..you…come inside…or shoot…they’re…all…dead!” He slaps it against a window and laughs. “Look at them! They’re helpless!” Felix laughs as well. I feel tears running down my face. This isn’t Felix. Felix isn’t a sadistic gunman who wants everyone dead. I remember Felix, just two weeks ago, shaking my head to wake up my brain, that was Felix. This is a murderer. “If the person who called the cops doesn't stand up, we’re going to shoot everyone we see. You can save people. All you have to do is stand up,” Cooper warns. He starts looking around. I put my head back behind the bookcase. I realize it’s too risky to be peeking around, so I move some of the books on the shelf so I have a little hole to see through. The girl slowly stands up. Felix and Cooper both point their guns at her. “Why are you guys doing this?” she asks. “Wouldn’t you like to know? Why did you call?” Felix questions. The girl puts her hands in the air. “Because…what you're doing is wrong. These people are innocent.” Cooper laughs. “Innocent? You know at least ninety percent of these people are obsessed with drugs, alcohol, sex, and money. That doesn’t seem like innocence to me. I’m just punishing them.” The girl cries out, “None of that is a reason to kill!”  “they’re all gonna die anyway!” Felix yells. “We’re just pushing the date a bit closer. They could die tomorrow, they could die in thirty years. It's natural." Felix takes a step closer. "I know when you're gonna die." Felix shoots several times, watching the girl's body slump to the ground. "Nobody else better try and tell us what's good for us." Cooper walks over to the windows. “The cops are still here. They’re gonna try to come in soon. Felix go through the school and block entrances and exits. And maybe shoot at the cops.” Felix walks out and I hear his footsteps getting smaller and smaller. Cooper walks closer and closer my way. Cooper crouches down under a table. “Hello Andy,” he says. “Are you gonna kill me?” What I assume to be Andy asks. “I don’t know. Do you want to be?” “No. Not right now.” It seems like they know each other. “Go. Get out. If I see you again I won’t hesitate.” A boy gets out from under the table. He opens the library door with ease. It seems like whatever they used to block the door was taken away. I look to my left at the window, and I see a large bus. It’s going fast, directly towards the cop cars. All of the cops dive out of the way, but several of them get hit when the bus rams into them. What cops are left say something into their radio, then they go inside the bus. Right as they get in, I see Felix use the emergency exit to get on top of the bus. Felix takes something from his pocket. He pulls something out of it, then drops it in the bus, closing the emergency hatch. There’s a loud boom, and several of the windows on the bus blow out. That means he used some sort of grenade. How did Felix get grenades? “Awesome!” Cooper yells. Felix runs to the library windows and shoots one out, climbing through it. Cooper walks up and slaps Felix in the head. “Idiot! Now they have a clear shot. Stay away from that window.” Cooper rewrites his message on a large whiteboard, rolling it over to the open window. Cooper and Felix begin rolling bookshelves over to cover the windows. I realized they would soon move mine, so when they weren’t looking, I crawl under a table, pulling in the chairs to form a barricade. One other person is under the table. It’s a boy, he looks about my age. His eyes are wide in fear, as he clutches onto one of the legs of the chair. He looks at me, his eyes squinting a bit. He notices the tears on my face. “We’re gonna be okay,” he says really quietly. I nod quickly. I look over, right as Cooper moves the bookshelf I was hiding behind. “In five minutes, a true massacre will happen. No more stalling, blood bath.” Cooper points his gun up and fires several times, exploding a few lights. Cooper begins walking around, tapping his gun on tables. Felix walks back in, limping. “More cops are going to show up soon, we need to hurry it up.” I notice a door about twenty steps from me, opened. I consider making a run, but I don’t want to get shot. I’m about to get up to run, when I hear a tap on the table above me.

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Hello! So, I had this idea: what if books are separated by genre instead of author? This way, you can find out the genre of each book without having to read it! This will make it more like an actual library and more organized. The genre of your book will be up to you, since most books have multiple genres. Sound like a good idea?

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Hello! So, I had this idea: what if books are separated by genre instead of author? This way, you can find out the genre of each book without having to read it! This will make it more like an actual library and more organized. The genre of your book will be up to you, since most books have multiple genres. Sound like a good idea?

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Blindsighted

By: loki

Prologue

You don't know fear until you’re staring down the barrel of a gun. You don’t know fear, till you watch the people you know die, wondering if you’re next. You don’t know fear, till somebody you thought you knew becomes a murderer.

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Are you fire or are you water?

Are you earth or are you air?

Am I dead or am I breathing?

'Cause I think the line's blurred somewhere

Are you with me or are against me?

Are you double minded or double edged?

Is my pain not yours to see?

Will my wounds forever bleed?

Will you ever read between the lines of what- you see?

Will you ever think about the words of mine you hear and read?

Do you ever wonder what I truly mean?

No, because I don't let me speak

But here I am writing this useless poem of- words left outside my speech

Poet: Soul/Echo
Date: 7/20/22
Type: Relatable

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CHAPTER 2
Scroll.for chapter 1

I flipped backwards behind the boxes, cutting my leg on a box. I didn't make any noise. Summer had done the same, except without getting hurt. “Luke?” I heard a familiar voice say. I sighed with relief. I hopped back up on the boxes while rubbing the small line of blood on my calf. “Hey man,” I said. “You scared the heck  out of us.” Soapy frowned. “Us?” I turned behind me and saw Summer making a confused face. I gestured for her to get back up. When she crawled up, Soapy grinned. “Hey, I’m Samuel. Sammy to the ladies,” he said with a bow. “Wait a minute, why were you two in  here?” he asked with suspicion. “Seriously? Dude, it was just crowded out,” I said. Soapy grinned. “I’m Summer, by the way,” Summer said. Soapy clicked his tongue. “Nice.” Soapy grinned wider. “Anyway, Luke, we need to talk about summer school.” I looked at him. “Right now?” I asked. Soapy nodded. “I got some cool facts about the place we’re going to.” He looked at Summer. “You can tag along too.” I pointed at her. “She’s going to summer school too,” I said. “That’s why she’s coming dumbhead,” Soapy said. “Actually I gotta say goodbye to my friends. Maybe another time,” Summer said. Soapy shrugged. “Alright.” Summer climbed down and walked out. “I heard it’s haunted,” Soapy said. “The summer school?” I asked. He nodded. “It was last used thirty years ago but there was a major gas leak and it killed the whole staff,” Soapy said. “They cleaned the air and stuff but still.” I rolled my eyes. “Wow, so spooky,” I said. “What's the place called?” “Another spooky part!” Soapy said excitedly. “It’s called the “Rovenwood Institute,” He said. I faintly recall seeing those faded words on a mail van. It seemed kind of suspicious that those words would be on it.  We talked about what we would do at the school, all the way up until the bell rang. I walked out of the prop room, out of the school and into the fresh air. I took a deep breath. I knew I would be packing to go to summer school. Big whoop. I sighed and started to walk home. I heard someone shout behind me. “Wait!” I turned around and saw Summer. “Oh hey,” I said. “Hey,” she answered out of breath. “Where’s your home?” I looked ahead. “Fencefire Gates neighborhood,” I answered. “Oh. I was wondering if maybe I could come over? I really don’t want to deal with my dad and none of my other friends are free,” she said. “I don’t think my mom would mind,” I said. “She’s pretty cool about having guests over.” Summer smiled brilliantly. “Awesome!” I frowned. “But won’t your dad notice you’re gone?” I asked. Summer rolled her eyes. “He’ll probably celebrate. He’d love it if I never came back anyway…So! What’s your dad like?” Summer asked. I immediately looked down. “I don’t know,” I replied. “How do you not-” Realization dawned on Summer’s face. “Oh,” she said. “I’m sorry.” I shook my head. “It’s alright.” I kept walking and lifted my head. “Hey worm!” A voice behind me called. “Not good,” I said. I grabbed Summer’s wrist and started running. I heard footsteps behind me. “Why are we running?” Summer asked, running next to me. “Butch,” I simply answered. I quickly turned onto my street and saw a car speeding towards me. I yelped and moved out of the way. Summer fell backward onto the curb. The side mirror hit my shoulder. “Ow!” I yelled. The car kept on going. I looked around. Butch was gone. “Are you okay?” summer asked, sitting on the ground. “I’m fine. What a jerk,” I said pointing at the direction the car went. Thankfully the car was going slow because it was in a neighborhood, so all I had gotten was a probable bruise. I walked home and noticed there were no cars. “My mom isn’t home yet,” I said. I pulled out my house key and unlocked and opened the door. I walked in with Summer behind me. “What’s your mom’s job?” she asked. “Children’s hospital,” I answered. Summer nodded in approval. She dropped her backpack and sat in a chair. I walked to the kitchen and got a glass. “Water?” I asked Summer. She shook her head. “Not really thirsty,” she said. “So what did you and your friend talk about?” I looked at her. “Something about the place being haunted, it’s nothing.”  Summer rolled her eyes. “Did you hear the place the bus is picking us up is in the next neighborhood over?” Summer said. “Joy,” I said. “That’s a lot of walking for you,” Summer said, tapping her fingers on her thigh. “Eh, I don’t mind,” I said. Summer’s phone buzzed in her pocket. She took it out and sighed. “My dad wants me to do chores,” she said. I frowned. “Don’t let him get to you,” I said, “Take care.” Summer smiled and walked out the door. At exactly one minute after, my mom walked in. “Hey sweetheart,” she said, “Hey mom,” I said back. “Have you packed for summer school?” she asked. I groaned. “I still don’t get why you can’t just keep me here and homeschool me or something,” I said. “You need this, Luke,” she answered. “More like you want this,” I snapped. It wasn’t like me to snap at my mother, but I was in a bad mood. “I don’t want you to.” Her brow was knitted and her mouth thin. That’s when I knew she was upset. “Then keep me here!” I said loudly. “I can’t do that!” she said, slightly raising her voice. “Doesn’t seem like you can do much then!” “Luke Anderson, go to your room!” “So you’re gonna send me somewhere else I don’t want to go?” “What is your problem?” My mom asked. “You are. Why don’t you just live at the hospital? It’s not like I see you ever anyway,” I answered. I turned around and stormed up to my room. I had two choices: crawl out my window and run away, or crawl out my window and go to the bus stop for summer school. I decided to take the latter, because I would be found anyway. I grabbed my packed bags and opened my window. I stepped out onto the roof and threw my bags down. I scaled- er- scaled/fell down the tree next to the roof and picked my bags back up. I started walking and heard my mom’s voice. “Luke! Luke, come back here!” I stopped for a moment. I shook my head and yelled, “See you after school!...in a month.” I took a deep breath and kept walking. I walked about halfway to the neighborhood that the bus would pick us up from when I stopped. I sat against a pole and leaned my head back. I felt bad for what I had said, but if I went back I would get in major trouble. I closed my eyes. I awoke to the sound of a car horn. I sighed. I pulled out my phone and saw I had a million notifications. Texts from Mom. The first few consisted of “Get back heres” and then turned into apologies, and eventually into fear that I was lost. I quickly typed, “I’ll be on the bus to the summer school. Love you,” I hesitated before sending the text. I came over it and pushed send. I stuffed my phone back in my pocket and stood up. I struggled to keep my balance and started walking. I was fidgeting with my hand when I heard the roar of a bus heading to the stop. The bus was huge. I mean huge. It was white with big black tinted windows. It was flat faced with big mirrors on either side. A big black strip ran horizontally across the bus all the way around. I would have to beat the bus there. I started running as fast as I could, but running with bags was hard. I would like to say I easily outran the bus and hopped on with time to spare. The truth is I squeezed in right when the door closed, resulting in my foot being squished. “Ow,” I muttered. I looked around. It was even bigger on the inside. The seats were leather and cushioned. They were red and had headrests. I was busy staring in awe when the bus lurched forward. I flew towards the back of the bus catching myself on a seat. I quickly sat on the seat. I was alone., I peaked my head over the top of my seat to find Summer. She was all the way in the back looking around. I got off my seat and made my way back there. I was almost there when the bus screeched to a halt. I flew towards the front and I heard a loud, “Ow!” from the back. I got up and the bus lurched forward. “Oh come on!” I said as I went flying towards the back. I got up and immediately sat in the seat that Summer was sitting on. She was dabbing at her nose. “What happened?” I asked. “I hit my nose on the seat,” Summer answered. “Here let me see,” I said. She took her hand away from her face. “I don’t see any blood,” I said. Summer rubbed her nose again. “Three hour drive, yippie,” she said sarcastically. I sighed. “I swear I’m gonna be dead by the time we get there.” Summer got her phone out. “Ninety-eight percent, awesome!” she said. I pulled my phone out. “Forty-five for me.” Everyone started to pull their phones out. The bus had been rumbling on for about two hours and forty-something minutes. That’s when the first weird occurrence happened. My phone turned off. So did summers. And so did everyone else’s. Loud murmurs flew around the bus. I could hear people clicking their power button to try and get their phone on. “We are here,” the driver said, startling everyone. “We will need to confiscate your phones. Phones will not be tolerated.” Everyone groaned. “Woah, woah woah!” Soapy said loudly from a seat in front of us. “First of all, does anybody notice that everyone’s phone died? Or the fact that the school looks like it's gonna collapse at any minute?” He pointed at the building cloaked in plants. It was three stories tall, made of an odd combination of stone and brick. There were no windows, just blank holes. The entrance looked like a library entrance might, columns and plants. So. Much, Plants. We seemed to be in the middle of nowhere. “I call a strike!” Soapy said. He started chanting something about deadly virus plants, but nobody joined in. “Yeah, just me,” he said. He sat down, his cheeks turning red. Everyone started piling out of the bus. We walked up to the entrance. “What…the-” I started to say but I heard a loud crash. I jumped and turned around. Someone had dropped their bag and was picking up the stuff that had piled out. I looked at the door. I walked inside behind Summer. “This place smells.” I said. Summer nodded, holding her nose. “This makes my gran’s horse stables smell like paradise,” she said. The inside was no different from the outside. The floors were cracked white linoleum, and the walls were stone and bricks. We entered what seemed to be a cafeteria. “Allright kids, go have a look in the cafeteria then we’re separating you into groups by age,” we all started walking through the cafeteria. I went to the kitchen in the back. “No wonder it smells,” I said, holding my shirt over my nose. There was a big pot of… I don't even know what it was. “Gross,” Summer said. “Yup,” I said. We found a table and I sat down. She sat down next to me, our elbows touching. “What do you think it’s gonna be like here?” she asked. “I don’t know,” I answered truthfully. Summer sighed. “This is going to be torture.” “At least you’re not alone,” I said. Summer smiled. “I wonder where we’ll be sleeping,” I said. We talked for a bit about what we would do, how we would survive, and where we might sleep. It started off as naming maybe classrooms, or maybe there are dorms somewhere. Then we started wondering if we would be sleeping in the sewer. Right then the bus driver coughed loudly. Everyone stopped talking. “We are going to show you where you will be sleeping. Follow me to the third floor,” he said robotically. We all followed him. “What about the elevator?” someone asked. “Out of order,” the driver responded quickly. Everyone mumbled about stupid not working elevators. We climbed up to the third floor and there was a narrow hallway with two doors on either side. “Girls rooms on the left, boys on the right. Each room is sectioned to hold 4 people. If there isn't enough space, sleep on the floor,” the driver said. I walked through the right door. Before I walked through completely, someone grabbed my wrist. It was Summer. “We’re not done exploring this place,” she said. “Midnight. I’ll be up.” I nodded. “So will I.” I walked through the boys door. Inside was an “L”  shaped hallway that had about twenty doors all throughout. There were rooms sectioned for elementary school kids, middle school kids, and highschool kids. One kid bustled past me to the elementary school section. All I could catch was the dark tone of his skin and his short hair. I walked to the middle school section. I walked through one of the doors with Soapy behind me. “Cozy,” he said, when in fact it was the just opposite. The room was square, with the same walls as everywhere else. There were three curtains, one that ran horizontally though the room to section into two, and two more to section it into four spaces. In the back, there was a small room with a toilet, a sink, and a small shower with no curtain. I walked over to one of the beds. I wondered if they could even qualify as beds. They were straight metal rectangles about a foot off the ground. There were no pillows, blankets, or even something to pad the metal. Luckily, I had brought a sheet, as for the metal, I’d have to sleep on it by itself. I sighed and dropped my stuff. I sat down and looked around. “So what are you doing tonight?” Soapy asked. I looked over at him, standing at the other cot. “What do you mean?” I asked. Soapy grinned that mischievous grin. “You’re planning something,” he said. I sighed again. “I’m not,” I said. “Uh huh. If you say so.” I sat down on the hard metal. I looked at my watch. It was three PM. I still had nine hours before Summer and I would explore the school. Or institute, whatever. I looked at the other people in the room. There was a boy with long, dark brown hair. He was looking down so I couldn't see his eye color. I looked at the other one. He was my age, with blue hair. He was fair skinned. He had an eye color I couldn’t quite make out. He saw me looking at him. “What are you looking at?” he said, clearly trying to rile me up. “You. Duh,” I answered. He scowled more. “Well, quit it,” he growled. “Ooh, I’m so scared,” I said. He got up. What’s funny was that he was shorter than me. I could finally see his eye color. They were brown but the edges of the irises looked black. He walked toward me. He was wearing a fake leather jacket and black jeans. “Don’t mock me,” he said in a serious tone. “Don’t mock me,” I said in the same tone. His face started to turn red. “Stop,” he muttered, his fists shaking. I rolled my eyes and shoved him out of the way. It wasn’t a hard shove, but he lost his balance and fell on his bottom. I tried not to laugh but he could tell. He got up and dusted himself off. I thought he was just gonna run back to his bed or something, but he instead decided to trip me. He kicked out my leg and I fell sideways. It would have been nothing, but I hit my head on the side of the metal bed. The glove on my hand had also come off and the boy was staring at it. I tried to get up, but the room was spinning. I picked my glove up and jammed it on my hand. I stayed on the ground and waited for the room to stop spinning. The one with the long brown hair came up and held his hand out. Before taking it, I looked at Soapy. He was kneeling down, cleaning the metal cot. I smiled to myself and grabbed the other boy’s hand. He helped me up and I stumbled. “You okay?” he asked. I nodded. “Well, I’m Andrew. You can call me Drew for short.” I looked at him. He had green eyes too, but a much darker shade. “Luke,” I said. “You can call me…uh….Luke for short.” Andrew smiled. “Sorry about Jack,” he said. I was assuming the other boy’s name was Jack. “He gets riled up easily. And he doesn’t want to be here.” I scoffed. “Do any of us?” Andrew chuckled. “I guess not.” Soapy was done obsessing over his sleeping area when he walked over. “Hey. I’m Samuel,” he immediately said to Andrew. “Hey Sam,” I said. “I was just talking to Andrew.” Andrew put his finger up. “Drew. Call me Drew.” I nodded. “I was just talking to Drew. Drew, Samuel. Samuel, Drew.” They shook hands. “Huzzah,” I said. I turned around and realized how hungry I was. It’s like this place could read my mind, because then a different guy came into the hall and banged on all of the walls. “Come and eat!” he yelled. We all started getting out of the rooms and walked down the flights to the cafeteria. I caught a scent of something gross. I went to the small lunch line, and grabbed a plate. There was one pot, and a big spoon. I peered into the pot and immediately put my plate down. I couldn’t eat that stuff. It looked like aged chili. And by aged, I mean maybe Shakespeare could have made this exact pot of chili.  I looked over and noticed there were apples too. I sighed and grabbed one. I walked to the table furthest from the pot and sat down. I saw Summer walking towards the table. She sat across from me.”I can’t wait to see this place fully,” she said. “Yeah. Smelliness and overgrowness galore,” I said. “Maybe we’ll find a body.” Summer’s face turned green. “No. No, no, no, no. I don’t like dead things. They smell and look disgusting.” I shrugged. “I don’t mind dead things. Well, I’ve never actually seen a dead body, so I don’t know if I’d be fine with that.” Summer laughed. I looked down at my apple. It was almost four o’clock. I guess this post lunch pre dinner sort of thing. I picked it up and nibbled at it. “Not hungry?” Summer asked. “Not really,” I answered. I had actually been beyond hungry. When the same guy called for us to go back to our rooms and clean up, I immediately got up and threw the part of my apple I didn’t eat in the garbage. I walked to the room I had been in, and reached in my bags. I pulled out a change of clothes, and a bar of soap. I headed to the bathroom and locked the door. I took a small shower and pulled my clothes on.I put the bar of soap in a bag so I could use it again. I spent the rest of the day getting used to the room. I talked more with Drew and found out he meant to be here. He had wanted to check the place out so he had purposely failed school. Hours later, the moment had come. It was dark so I reached in my bag and pulled out a flashlight. I walked out of the room and out of the boys hall. I saw Summer at the end of the main hallway with her back faced towards me. I slowly walked up and grabbed her shoulders. “Boo!” I said. Summer jumped and swatted my arm. “Don’t do that!” she said. I smiled and clicked my flashlight on. “Ready? I asked. “Yes!” Summer answered enthusiastically. I walked out of the main hallway and out to the staircase. I walked down with Summer right behind me. We decided to go to the first floor main entrance and start there.We walked past the cafeteria and into a hall we hadn’t gone in yet. We shined our flashlights on everything we could find. There were lots of empty classrooms that all looked the same. We were walking in a hallway when Summer tripped on something. I grabbed her shoulder to steady her. I was about to ask her what she tripped on when I heard a big WHOOSH. An elevator door opened and the lights turned on. “He said it was out of order…” I mumbled to myself. I slowly walked in and looked all around. Summer walked in behind me and leaned against the side of the elevator. A loud beep sounded and the doors closed. “What the heck?” I said. I pounded on the doors but they didn’t open. “What do we do?” I said. “I don’t know!” Summer said, also pounding on the door. After about a minute, the door opened. But we weren’t in the hall anymore. It looked like some sort of lab. I walked around. There were pointed needles everywhere on tables, with the points sticking out. One wrong move, and you could get pricked. The place had two stories, but sort of split. The room was square, with stairs leading up on both the right and left wall. The top level was half the size of the bottom. There was a rail, sort of like a balcony. The walls were white and so was the floor. There were tables filled with things. Right below the balcony level, there were two huge tanks full of a weird murky liquid. The tables seemed to be made of steel. I had my focus on the tanks and I walked a bit too close to the table. I got some weird looking syringe stuck in my arm. It didn’t have a push stick thing in the back. Just a button and a weird liquid inside. I tried pulling it out but couldn’t. “Hey Summer, a little help?” she tugged on it and it didn’t budge. “Maybe one big tug…” she said. She gripped it. I heard a beep and felt something go in my arm. She pulled it out and her face went white when she saw the liquid go in my arm. “Oh no..” she said. “It’s probably fine,” I said. I shook my arm for emphasis. I walked to the stairs. I felt oddly compelled to the tanks. Like, I needed it to finish a process. “Um…Luke? What are you doing?” I heard Summer ask. I walked to a platform rising above the tank. One more step forward, I’d be taking an unnecessary, disgusting bath. So, I did what every smart person would do. I got on my hands and knees and peered over the edge. Then I fell in. Only then I realized what I had even just done. I frantically flailed my arms and legs and held my breath. I tried to swim up, but it was like swimming in tar. I held my breath for as long as I could. I couldn't go any longer and I took in a gulp of the stuff. I felt my lungs flood and my eyes water. I started to feel weak. And I felt as if a million needles with poison were slowly stabbing me. Then I blacked out. I woke up in a strange room. It had gray walls and the same colored floor. There was a big window leading to another room. On the other side of the window, stood Summer and…the school principal. I sat up and felt a sharp pain course through my body. My head felt like it was splitting in half. I put my hands to my head. Wait a minute…hands. I felt two full size hands on my cranium. I looked slowly at my hands. I had two. I examined the hand that had always been deformed. It looked just like my other one. I was speechless. Surely this was a dream. Summer banged on the window and I looked over. I wanted to say something but it felt like I had a mouthful of venom. I leaned my head back. I was lying on the floor. My eyes closed and I blacked out again. When I woke up next, I was in my dorm. I sat up and looked around. Soapy was asleep, Drew was asleep, and Jack was asleep. I thought maybe it was all a dream. I don’t have two perfect hands, and there’s no pain. When I looked down I realized only the no pain part was true. I very nearly screamed when I saw I had two perfectly symmetrical hands. I gasped and moved my hand. It felt weird, like as weird as it would be to grow a third arm.I thought about waking Soapy up but he seemed fast asleep. Peaceful. I got up and slowly walked out of the room. I was tiptoeing trying to be as quiet as possible when I felt something slam into me. I lurched forward and heard someone say, “I thought you were dead!” It was Summer and she was hugging me. She let go and I turned around. “I’m alive,” I said. “But- the-” she was tripping over her words. I know. I held up both of my hands and she gasped. “How- is it real?” she touched my hand and I’m pretty sure my face turned red. She looked at it in awe. “How is it possible?” I shrugged. “I have no idea.” She was still examining it when we heard a loud noise. We both ran back to our respective rooms. I flopped onto the metal bed.  Bad idea. There was a loud clang and my whole body hurt. “Ow,” I said quietly to myself. I closed my eyes and pretended to be asleep. “We know you’re awake,” a voice said. I groaned and turned around. I nearly peed my pants. It was a big dude. He was massive. He looked like he could bench press a shark and not break a sweat. I stood up. “Umm…Hi,” I said dumbly. “Hello,” the guy said. “What do you want?” I asked. “You can’t be around anybody,” he said. “What? Why?” I asked, incredulous. “They can’t see what’s happened. Don’t worry. I’m on your side,” he answered. He stepped closer and I could make out his features. He had dark skin and he was bald. He pulled on my arm to stand me up. I shook his hand off me. “On my side?” I asked. “What the heck does that mean?” I asked. “It means I’m not going to hurt you. But I need you to come with me,” he answered. “My name is Parker, everything will be fine.” I raised my new hand. “Did you do this? What was that stuff I fell into? What was that stuff I accidentally injected into myself?” I had a million questions, but Parker just put his finger to his mouth. “Come with me,” he said. He started walking and I followed. “To answer one of your questions, that was a heavy dose of Steosmite spit you injected into yourself,” Parker said while we were walking. He said word like stay-ose-mite. “A what?” I asked. “Steosmite. You’ll learn about them. Blinkly  will be happy. You were the right blood type after all.” All of this was confusing to me. “Blood type?” Parker nodded. “Turns out you were descended from the king. Very powerful.” “What king?” I asked loudly. “You’ll see. We think your friends have the right blood too. But not as powerful.” Parker seemed to be talking nonsense. “HOLD UP!” I yelled at the top of my lungs. Parker was leading me to a basement of some sort. “WHERE ARE YOU TAK-” I stopped when Parker’s big hand covered my mouth. “Kid, shut up. Don’t wake any- AH!” Parker dropped his hand. “Why did you do that?” Parker asked, clutching his hand. “Hey sir, it wasn’t enjoyable for me either. Your hand tastes terrible,” I said. “Don’t ever bite me again,” Parker said. “I can’t promise anything,” I said.  Parker rolled his eyes. “Follow me,” he said. I decided that following him was probably the best idea. He twisted and turned through the hallways. We came upon a brick wall. “Wow. What a nice wall,” I said. Parker rolled his eyes again. “Touch it,” he said. I reached my hand out and pressed it against the wall. Nothing happened at first, but then the wall started melting. I took a step back and my eyes went wide. The wall melted away to reveal some sort of metal door. Parker opened the door, leading us to a bright, high ceilinged room. The walls were pure white, so was the floor, and the ceiling. “Cool door. I want one.” There was nothing inside. I heard a whooshing sound and a panel in the wall opened up. Out walked the principal. “Hello Luke. I am Dr. Blinkly . Or, better known as Mr. Principal.” I stared at him, trying not to laugh from the name Blinkly . “Nobody actually calls you that,” I said. Blinkly  smiled. “I didn’t expect this whole conversation to happen for another month, but seeing as you found out early, and already did the whole precaution, then I assume you’re ready to be trained. After it kicks in of course.” “What the heck are you talking about?” I asked. “Let me explain,” Mr. Bal- er- Dr. Blinkly  said. “Your blood comes from a king. A king from somewhere far away. It was special blood, compatible with my experiment. This experiment is one of power. What you drank in that tank, what sank into your pores, is power. Elements. What happened was I took a piece of a special rock, from the far off place. I made it a liquid by melting it. Yes, I melted a rock. But this rock clung to your cells, giving it the power to control the elements.” I continued staring at him. “This is a prank show, right? You’re gonna tell me where the cameras are and take this prosthetic off?” I said, holding my new hand up. “No, Luke.” I laughed. Hysterically. “Right, right.” I walked around the room looking for cameras. “What are you doing?” Blinkly  asked, “Looking for cameras,” I answered. “I already told you, this isn’t a joke,” Blinkly  said. I turned around to look at him. “This is something that’d be in a marvel movie. Not real life. Tell me what’s actually going on,” I said, getting a bit ticked off. Blinky walked up to me and slapped me across the face. That did it. I flung my arm out to hit him back, not caring that he was a teacher, and fire sparked on the top of my hand. Literal sparks. It felt as if someone put ice on my hand. I looked at my hand for what felt like all day. “What just happened?” I asked slowly. “I told you, Luke,” Blinkly  answered. “No. I refuse it. You- that was something else. Projectors. Firecrackers, something!” Blinkly  walked closer. “Believe it, Luke,” he said. I shook my head fast. “Shut up. You’re lying.” I walked around trying to find an exit. “Get me out of here,” I said, annoyed. “We are not lying! Don’t you see! You are angry! Take that anger out on me! Burn me! Drown me! Make the earth swallow me! Fly me a hundred feet in the air, and kill me!” He was right, I was angry. My fists were shaking and my vision was blurry. Without thinking, I flung my hand out again. This time, a small flame appeared on my finger. I did my best not to freak out. The flame flickered, as if it was on a candle. I lifted my hand and looked at it. “How..” I said, not being able to finish my sentence. “I told you, Luke. You’re special. We just gave you a boost. We’re here to help,” Blinkly  said in an oddly calming tone. I found my anger swimming away, and the flame flickered once then disappeared. My finger didn’t feel like it was burnt. It felt like I had stuck my finger in a cup of cold water, except it wasn’t wet. So it was real. Whatever happened…it was real.

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A spark,
A flame
A whole new world
Because you never ceased to make my pain dissipate
You're always there for me
There when I need it most
Because all these written words
Say more than I've ever spoke
So I'll let it fly
Write freely
Because I know you'll always be there for me
I can rely on you
If I have the time
If not, I'll just have to survive
But at the end of the day, I'll try to come back to you
Because passion,
You're my escape

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Poet: Soul
Date: 10/20/22
Note: I wrote this poem for National Writing Day. It was an assignment in my English class

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The Outskirts

By: Loki

PROLOGUE

Freedom was so close I could taste it. I could see The Edge, but nothing beyond that. I was running. I couldn’t stop now. Jake was right behind me. I fumbled in my pocket for the key. I grasped it and took a deep breath. My lungs were hurting and my legs were burning. My hair was plastered to my forehead with sweat. Each time my foot hit the ground, my hopes got bigger and bigger that I’d reach The Outskirts. Ever since I had left Zeroux, my life had been one big puzzle. Who to trust, who to stay away from, who to befriend. “Cmon!” Jake yelled from close behind. “I can see The Edge!” he added. His hair was also stuck to his head, sticky with sweat. It was a hundred feet away. Ninety. Eighty. Seventy. Sixty. Fifty. Fourty. It was right then my legs decided to give out. I rolled several feet, feeling my knife cut into my waist. “No!” I screamed. Jake stopped and turned around. “Go Jake! Go!” Jake looked at The Edge, then back at me. He wanted to. Curse his kindness. Curse him caring about me. Curse it all. He ran back to me. “I can’t leave you behind. Not when we’re this far.” he panted. “Find her! Leave me!” I screeched. “No. I’m not going without you, Hayden. Not today,” Jake insisted. “Freeze!” we heard. Great. The Watchmen were here. Jake raised his hands in defeat. We would never reach The Outskirts. We wouldn’t rescue Jordyn. We would never reach freedom.

CHAPTER 1

I was walking down the quiet streets of Zeroux. I was out past curfew, which means I needed to look out for Watchmen. They patrolled after curfew, catching anyone who was out past it. If you got caught once, you would get a warning and an escort home. Twice, you’d get a fine and another escort home. If you get caught a third time, they’d take you to The Watchtower to get evaluated. Evaluation. More like execution. If they couldn’t find a fit job for you in The Watchtower, they’d kill you. I’d only been caught once, so I was careful to be sneaky this time. I was climbing on top of a garbage bin, trying to get to the top of a building. I scaled the side, using window sills and loose bricks as footholds and handholds. When I reached the top, I looked out over Zeroux. I didn’t exactly know how to spell Zeroux, but it was pronounced zero. When I looked out over the massive city, I could see The Edge. Just barely. I would dream about reaching it, reaching The Outskirts. Me, fifteen year old Hayden Griffin. Yeah right. Like I’d ever be able to. Not with all the Watchmen, not with The Edge, not with how big the city is. You see, the city was huge. Not exactly a city, more like a state. I would take Jake with me. He has been my best buddy since forever.  When I was young, we would talk about it. I thought about taking Jordyn as well, but she hardly talked to me anymore. We used to be good friends, but we fizzled out. So it would just be me and Jake. My dad was probably getting worried, so I decided I should get back home. I climbed back down the building. When my feet hit the solid pavement, a bright light shone on my face. A Watchman caught me.” Great,” I muttered to myself. “Stay where you are,” the Watchman said. I stood still. He took out his scandex, and pointed the infrared light at my face. He held it still for ten seconds while the scandex searched its data banks for my identity. “Hayden Griffin. You’ve already been caught once,” he said. “I know,” I answered flatly. “We’ll give you a fine. Three hundred bits. Next time, you’re getting an evaluation.” I nodded. They gave me a slip of paper. “Get in the buggy, we'll take you home,” the Watchman said. That was the creepy thing. With the scandex, they could find out everything about your life in a matter of ten seconds. Where you lived, how old you are, your birthday, everything. I climbed on the seat in the back of the buggy. I heard the engine start, and we rolled on down to my home. I wondered what Dad would say. Three hundred bits. We couldn’t afford to lose that much. All because of me. I sighed. The city was very dark during night time. The city was much like a place called New York City, which I’ve only seen in pictures. Except every building was much darker in Zeroux. Instead of shiny steel and red bricks, it was black steel and gray bricks. When we arrived at my home, dad was outside. He was fuming. When I hopped off the buggy, he stared at me with a cold, hard look. “Three hundred bits!” he yelled. I looked at the ground. “I know. I’ll earn some I’ll do something I-” But dad wasn’t done talking. “You’ve done enough. It’s bad enough we barely have any money, now we have to pay away three hundred of it? I wish I had a son who would actually care about the well being of his family rather than the pleasure of himself,” he said through clenched teeth. “And I wish I had a dad who understood me, rather than one who cares about money and random women he finds,” I shot back. “Get- get inside!” he yelled. I walked past him and into our home. It wasn’t much. Two bedrooms and a conjoined living room and kitchen. We had one dingy couch, a stove and an oven, and that was about it. We had about two cupboards of food, and a shelf of stuff in the fridge and freezer. I stalked off to my room, slamming the door shut. There were no windows, and only one small bulb to light up the dark area. I threw myself on my cluster of cloth and blankets. It was my bed. Sort of. I heard Dad yelling as he was making the transaction. All of the money went to the Mayor. His name was Mayor Carlton. He wasn’t necessarily evil, but he wasn’t nice either. My dad stormed into my room. “I want all of your savings. Now.” he said. “What?” I said, raising my voice. “Now!” he barked. I grumbled and opened the floor board near my “bed”. I took out all the bits I had saved, eighty-two. Bits were like metal squares, about three inches in length and width. The green ones were worth one, the red worth five, the blue worth ten, the yellow worth 20, the black worth fifty, and the gold worth a hundred. They were about as thick as a cracker. I shoved them at him. I gave him seven blue, two reds, and two green. “All of it,” he demanded. “That is all of it,” I spat back. “Last time I checked, you had ninety-seven. Now fifteen is gone.” I groaned and shoved the last blue and red ones at him. “Enjoy my money,” I said. “Oh, I will. I’m heading down to the bar. If you do so much as leave this room, you will never be allowed out,” he threatened. I didn’t answer, I didn’t say, “Yes. sir” I just laid back down on my bedspread and faced the wall. I heard his lumbering footsteps and the front door closing. I did my best not to cry. All of those bits. I had spent years collecting it. Years. I stayed where I was, waiting for sleep to find me. When it did, it was dreamless.

I awoke to a loud crash. I sat straight up, looking frantically around. I heard my father curse, then he yelled, “Hayden! Get in here!” I got up slowly, walking to the kitchen. Dad had dropped a plate. Great, that meant we now had only one plate. He had ruined our other two. “Good going, Dad,” I grumbled. He didn’t hear me. “You’re walking to school today,” he said. “Yay, fun,” I said back. I picked up the pieces of the plate, throwing them in the disposal, a bin that disintegrated everything you put in it to dust. I dusted my hands off and walked out of the house. School wasn’t that far away, so walking wouldn’t be so much of a pain. As I was walking, Jake fell into step with me out of nowhere. “Hey, Hayden,” he greeted. Jake was a relatively nice guy, with messy black hair and hazel eyes. “Hey, Jake.” Jake’s smile faltered. “You look terrible,” he said. “Yeah. Dad stole all of my bits I had been saving,’ I answered, keeping my emotion down. “Dang! All of it?” he asked. I merely nodded. “If you need any I got a gold-” I shook my head to Jake’s offer. His family wasn’t exactly rich, but they had way more than my family. Speaking of my family, I should say some stuff. Dad was a hog, going to bars and dating random women for about three days at a time. He’ll act all nice on them and charming, but when he was bored with them, he’d dump them in terrible ways. It made me sick. I don’t have many memories of my mom, because she had left. My dad told me she wasn’t interested in him anymore, which I can totally see from that viewpoint. But I believe Mom found a way to The Outskirts. Okay, a little to explain about The Outskirts. It was the land beyond Zeroux. But to get there, you would have to go to The Watchtower, get a special key, go all the way to the west side of the edge, and get past the thousands of Watchmen. Even then the Watchmen would chase you till you’re dead. Very few had managed to get past the edge, but the Watchmen always caught them. They’d bring the one who escaped to The Watchtower, and throw them off the highest point, picking up the body whenever they felt like it. Dad denied whenever I said I thought Mom got past the Edge, but I had seen the papers. When Mom died, dad never got rid of her work space in his room. So when he was at the bar, I would sneak in and read. Mom had plans to get to the edge. Everyday I would read the same words on the back of her journal. “I will come back for my Hayden.” Everytime I read it, I felt emotion for someone I never knew. I knew what she looked like, though. Same as me. Dark blonde hair and coffee brown eyes. Her picture was on the front of her journal. Jake’s question snapped me back to the present. “You sure? I got some to spare,” he said. I nodded. “I’ll be fine Jake,” I said, ending that conversation. Our school was really strict. The only time to talk was during lunch hour, and if you were caught, you got a punishment. The punishment was whatever they wanted it to be, if they needed an entire room cleaned, they'd just use the punished kids to do all of the work. Jake and I had been caught numerous times, so far the worst punishment being cleaning the roof of building B. In the rain. Jake’s arm was broken for months. Our school didn’t have a name, we just called it school. They often taught us math, chemistry, and the dangers of The Outskirts. Everyday, they would say what evil roamed about in The Outskirts. Animals called Lions, with manes and huge teeth, bears, with brown fur and big muscles, and countless other weird things. Although nothing would make me not want to go to The Outskirts. It was my life’s dream. I often got through the school day, daydreaming about reaching it. The bad thing was, the only way through the Edge, which was all the way on the west side, was too heavily guarded for a kid, which I mentioned earlier. And I lived on the east side, far from the west. “I got caught again,” I said glumly. Jake shook his head. “Hayden! Seriously?” he asked, raising his voice. “Yeah. I didn’t mean to,” I answered defensively. “You’re my only friend, Hayden. You can’t get evaluated, they’d just kill you!” he said. “You have Jordyn,” I pointed out. “That doesn’t count. She’s not exactly my friend, more like-” he started. “Your girlfriend,” I finished. “Well- yeah. But- we aren’t that serious yet. We’ve barely kissed but a couple times.” I wasn’t in the mood to hear about Jake’s love life. “That’s wonderful, Jake,” I said, trying to be nice. “Bah, I won’t bore you,” he said. “But you really need to find someone. A nice, cute girl whom you can love.” I stopped walking to look at Jake. “I don’t have time for love, much less the money for it.” Jake chuckled. “Money. Money doesn’t buy happiness,” he said. I didn’t answer to his statement, instead saying, “And besides, I want to reach The Outskirts. So I shouldn’t settle down or anything. I’m gonna try soon.” I had been telling myself this for two years. Everyday when I was younger, I’d devise a plan about getting to The Watchtower to get the key. I’d leave the house, getting scared after about twenty seconds. Although recently, I’ve gained a lot more confidence. Here was my current plan if I would ever try: I would have to get caught after curfew again, Taken to the tower for evaluation, Here’s when it gets tricky. I would have to cause some sort of diversion, being able to get to where the weapons were being kept. I’d get a knife, a handgun, and a volt shocker, which was sort of like a gun that electric shocks you and makes you drop to the ground. With the handgun and knife, I’d only attack if someone attacks first. The handgun had twenty rounds in it, plus cartridges for refills, I’d also grab three of those. I didn’t know how to use the gun, but I could figure it out. I’d then head to the key room, and grab the key to open The Edge’s doors. The only thing stopping me: What would be the distraction while I’m being evaluated? “Oh, c’mon. That’s a pointless dream,” Jake said. “Hey! You wanted to when we were kids!” I said, getting mad. “Yeah, as kids. I’m not a kid anymore. I have common sense.” I couldn't believe Jake. He just told me that my one goal in life was pointless. I could see the school building, so I took the chance and ran from Jake. I skipped up the steps and into the school. Everything was silent. I started walking to my first class, math. We learned a lot about using bits, saving bits, and how to add them up. I passed the time by thinking about what I was going to do during lunch hour. The food they served was exactly what I ate at home. The cheap stuff. Protein block, healthy block, and sometimes the sweet block. The protein block tasted like squishy rubber, and the healthy one like plants. The sweet block, however, was sugary and creamy, the only good one on the list. I was looking at the ground, lost in thought. I guess my legs fell asleep or something, because all of the sudden I fell out of my seat. I hit the ground with a thud, landing on my bottom. I looked around, hardly anyone had reacted. That was a rule, if anything out of the ordinary happened, you were to keep on walking, or working, or whatever it is you were doing. The instructor barely glanced at me. I got up and sighed. Today was going to be a terrible day. I barely survived school. I couldn’t even eat lunch, because the lunch person told me I didn’t have any bits in my account. I wanted to scream. Looks like Dad took the money out of that too. I really was broke. Couldn't even have lunch. I didn’t want to go home after school. I had a bad feeling Dad would still be mad about me being caught after curfew. I decided to go to my favorite place. The roof of the apartments. I climbed up the way I always did, using jutted out bricks and window sills. When I got to the top, I laid down on my back. I felt myself drifting off to sleep. I dreamed of reaching the Edge. I was the only one, running free. I had this dream quite a lot, but it would always end the same. When I reached The Outskirts, I would wake up. The same thing happened today. Although when I awoke, the sky was dark. “No, no!” I said. There was no way I could make it back without being caught. I decided I’d sprint it, and even if someone sees me they wouldn't be able to catch me. I was speeding down the street, close to my home. I was so happy when I reached the house. I was about to walk towards the steps, when I heard someone say, “Freeze!” That was an all too familiar word. I realized at that moment, I would never reach The Outskirts. I was going to die tomorrow.

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Sunset,
The end that creates a new- beginning
The birth of the reborn
The light that turns into darkness
The bridge in between

Sunset,
I know you're out there
You're the point of return
So please,
Please don't leave

---------------
Poet: Soul
Date: 10/29/22
Based off of: E.I
Note: I actually made this poem for E.I. I plan on it showing up eventually, I haven't gotten that far in it yet tho. And, "Sunset" is a sort of symbolization mixed with well, his nickname.... "Sunset"
Stanzas: 2 (5 lines per)
Lines: 10
POV: Silver

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My main charactor, Luke, is based off of my personality

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This is quite literally the "check it out!" section. If you wanna know if a creative work has been updated, then just come on over here!

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This is quite literally the "check it out!" section. If you wanna know if a creative work has been updated, then just come on over here!

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This pic came from Heroism Wiki. I don't own this picture. Link: https://heroism.fandom.com/wiki/Holding_Hands

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I'm sure few can say
They've met one like you
Never have I seen eyes so blue
Or a personality like diamonds
Like your hair, your heart's full of gold
Even though you're poor
How could the world do such a- thing to one so pure?
You're my light in the darkness
You're my shield and my torch
You're my everything though you- have nothing
It's a shame they put you down- here with the worst
Yet your heart shines through and- through

But you're something my family- always forbade
Your psyche of gold isn't rich- enough for their taste
And hearts so similar will never- prevail
But a nation divided against itself- will fail
Well, I guess this is it, I bid you- farewell
You're one time cannot erase-, forever in my heart and mind
Friends till death due us 'part
Since I can't make you mine
------------------------------------
By: Soul
Date: 10/15/22
Note: This was made for school. I had a choice of writing a poem or song in the form of a tragic 1st person love story(like "Annabel Lee" by Edgar Allen Poe or Taylor Swift's "Sad Beautiful Tragic"), a short scary story using first person and foreshadowing, or write a newspaper review on Poe's "Annabel Lee" or "The Tell Tale Heart".

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Rule 7: No posting pics of inappropriate stuff (NO NUDES).

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Rule 7: No posting pics of inappropriate stuff (NO NUDES).

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I lay on my bed, staring at the ceiling.
With the thoughts that come and go...
I wish I could stop feeling.
I ruminate, and self gaslight.
So how do you expect me to smile daily
If I can't even get my feelings right?

How do I fake a smile?
I honestly forgot.
And, yeah, I did it for a while
But now it's just a thought

How do I forget myself?
I don't wanna be who I am
I wish I could just put me on a shelf
And not be human

How do I love myself?
You tell me to do so
After crushing my dreams of being myself
Maybe I'll go to Heaven if I pretend to cope

How do I stop thinking?
It never works out.
Not when almost everything sinks in
And with the waterworks in my eyes? We'll never have a drought

How do I stop?
I can't love myself
Not after you told me to put me on a shelf
So, I just don't stop, it never ends or drops

How do I embrace defeat?
I don't know, the poem just... repeats

----------------------
Poet: Soul
Poem Type: Relatable
Note: This poem is 2 months old I believe...

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Poem: Floating

Nothing,
I can't hear nothing
I can't feel nothing
I move robotically,
On command
Don't think, just do
Don't think, just do
I'm suspended in air
Are you suspended too?

Poet: Nevaeh Mitchell
Poem type: Relatable, new
Date: 9/29/22
----------------------
Poem: Falling

Falling, I'm falling
I hoped I was falling for him
Down, down
Back to the start again

I'm feeling a little nervous
Scared to hit the ground
Last time I fell,
I had something to catch me
But now they're trapped in a cell

Falling, I'm falling
Down, down
Closing my eyes, cuz no one will catch me
Thinking, well at least I haven't hit the ground

Floating, I'm floating?
Just for a brief second
But I have to turn around and do what needs to be done
So, imagination, creativity, stay in the back of my mind,- have fun

Falling, I'm falling
I hoped I was falling for him
Down, down
Back into my shell again

----------------------
Poet: Soul
Time: 10/4/22
Poem type: Relatable
Note: Sry this one isn't all that good. The only reason I posted the two of them together is bc I thought it was ironic that the last poem I had wrote b4 this one was "Floating"

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Almost every character in my book has changed names about six times, although the name change record for one of my characters is 9 times. Not only did they change names, but they also changed personalities each time. Ahhhh the life of an author... Also, I plan on killing off most of the main characters XDDDDDD

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Hello! So, I have this friend named Shai. And she has a padlet called Local Library, it would mean so much to the both of us if you came and put your books, poems, short stories, or songs in there! Or even if you just visited. The place is really dope, so check it out! 

# data[].attributes.subject
Hello! So, I have this friend named Shai. And she has a padlet called Local Library, it would mean so much to the both of us if you came and put your books, poems, short stories, or songs in there! Or even if you just visited. The place is really dope, so check it out! 

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https://padlet.com/Queen_Bubblz/detlcx99yry7z4oy

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More rules will be added if needed. Thank you

# data[].attributes.subject
More rules will be added if needed. Thank you

# data[].attributes.body
My name is Luke Anderson and I'm fourteen years old. Normal name and age right? If only that meant a normal life. It all started on a normal day. Riding a normal bus, at a normal school. And of course, getting bullied by a normal bully. “Let’s see your hand, Worm,” Said Butch, a guy intent on making school hard for me. Anytime someone made fun of my hand, I wanted to punch their face. When I was born, my hand was messed up. It didn’t develop correctly, leaving me with three small fingers. I looked at Butch. He always reminded me of Biff from Back To The Future. His hair was brown and he had a buzz cut. And he was muscular. More than an eighth grader should be. He smelled like garlic that had been thrown up ten times. “No thank you, Butch,” I said. Butch reached over and pulled the glove off of my hand. I had always put a glove on to hide it, but it always came off when Butch was around. “Hey, give it back!” I said loudly. Butch threw the glove at my face. “Real funny…idiot,” I said. Butch laughed. “That was the wrong thing to say,” he said. He punched me in my stomach, then kicked me in the shin. I fell to the ground. Butch laughed again. I got up and acted weak. Butch stepped up and I took my chance. I had a problem of always wanting to one up people who got on my nerves. I jumped on his back and started punching him everywhere I could reach. “Hey, hey, hey!” I heard a teacher yell. I didn’t know this teacher but she looked mad. She pulled me off of Butch and called over another teacher to make sure Butch was okay. He was whimpering but I knew it was just a show. I sighed. “What is your name?” The first teacher asked. “I don’t see why you need to know that information,” I answered. She seethed with anger. “Go to-,” she started. “The principal's office, yeah, yeah I know,” I finished. I turned around and started walking to the principal's office. This started to happen more frequently. I sighed. “Hey! Luke!” I heard. I turned around and saw my friend. “Hey Soapy!” I said. He ran up. His extremely blonde hair stood up like he just got out of bed. His black eyes always seemed to stare into my soul. I called him Soapy because he was a germ freak. You wouldn’t have guessed by just looking at him. His real name was Samuel. Or Sam. “Where are you headed?” he asked. “Principal's office,” I said with a sigh. Soapy shook his head. “Again? Luke, you're gonna get expelled one day.” I looked at him. “If it gets me out of here I’m all up for it.” Soapy smiled. “I’ll see you after school,” Soapy said. I nodded and started walking again. I already knew I would be going to summer school. School was out in two weeks and terrible grades. Soapy, being the good friend he is, flunked two of his classes so he could go to summer school with me. I ran my hand through my black hair. I passed the trophy case and looked at my reflection. My green eyes stared back at me. I looked forward. I saw Mr. Bald’s door. Nobody knew his real name. So we called him Mr. Bald because, well, he’s bald. I pushed the door open and Mr. Bald looked up. He had glasses on. It made his eyes look bigger than they were. He had red eyes. No joke, his irises were bright red and creepy. “Mr. Anderson..,” he said. “Yes?” I said gritting my teeth. “Again? That’s the third time you’ve punched or hurt Butch this week,” he said, sounding more disappointed than mad. “Yet he deserves it every time,” I said back. Mr. Bald sighed. “Why, Luke? You’re a smart kid.” I laughed quietly. “I know right? Failing five of my classes, but yeah, I’m so smart.” “If you would try harder Luke, you could pass.” I looked at him. “Trying is too hard.” “Go back to class Luke. Two more. Don’t let your hand get in the way,” Mr. Bald told me. “There it is. Your hand this, and your hand that,” I said. “I can do without you mentioning it.” I got up and walked out. I walked to my next class. Math…yay. I walked in and sat down in the back. A girl I had never talked to sat next to me. She was in several of my classes but we never actually talked. She was very pretty and had dark blonde hair and startling blue eyes. “Hi!” she said. “I’m Summer!” She sounded energetic. “Good for you,” I said. She frowned. I sighed. “Sorry. I’m not in the best mood,” I said. “Oh, it’s fine,” she said. “I’m Luke,” I said. “Nice to meet you,” she said back. I nodded and leaned my head back. I stared at the ceiling. I felt my eyes start to close. I drifted to sleep. I dreamed I was in a dark room. I couldn’t See any walls or even the floor. I took a step forward. I started walking faster and faster until I felt myself begin to fall. I flung my arms around trying to grab on to something, anything to save me. I landed on the hard ground, which surprisingly felt as if I had landed after a small jump. I got up and looked in front of me. All I could see was a chair. The chair had a high back and curved armrests. It was golden with red cloth draped around the back and arms. Nobody was sitting in it so I decided to climb on it because I felt compelled to it. As if the chair was trying to tell me something. It started to rumble and I fell again. This time, not stopping. I fell, and fell, and fell. Right when I thought I was never gonna stop, I woke up. I fell off my chair and my eyes went wide. Kids laughed as I stood up. “Mr. Anderson, is there a problem?” my teacher asked. “No Mrs. Barlow,” I answered. “Then can you answer the question on the screen?” she asked. I sighed and looked at the question. “Uh..twelve?” I replied, just guessing. “That is incorrect. Do we have a volunteer who can show Luke how to solve the problem?” I saw Butch, who was two seats in front of me, whip out his phone under the desk and use a calculator. He raised his hand. “I have the answer,” he said. “Yes Butch come on up,” Mrs. Barlow said, gesturing her hand for Butch to come forward. He stood up looking at the calculator on his phone one last time. He went up to the board and immediately wrote the answer down. He didn’t work through the problem at all, which is what Mrs. Barlow always had us do. I smiled at the thought of what Butch’s face would look like when he was told to work through it, when all he had done was use a calculator. “Amazing, Butch!” Mrs. Barlow said. She turned to me. “Luke, now that you know the answer, I would like you to work out how Butch got there.” I groaned. “He used a calculator,” I said. I should have gotten a good job, because I did fully explain how Butch got the answer. the teacher sighed. “I guess that’s more homework for you Luke,” she said. “Oh come on!” I said. I stood up, grabbed my backpack, and walked straight out of class. The bell was gonna ring in five minutes, so I decided there was no reason to go back. “Luke Anderson came back here!” the teacher scolded, standing at the open classroom door. Right before I turned the corner that led me to the cafeteria, I turned around. “Already gone!” I yelled back. I walked into the cafeteria and hopped on the stage. I walked backstage and through a door that said, “Staff only!” I had come here a lot in the last few months. It was the prop room, A big room with brown walls and a single lightbulb to light it up. I leaned against a big wooden prop tree. I dug in my backpack and pulled out a water bottle. I poured a little bit in my mouth and closed my eyes. I heard the dismissal bell and decided I would wait and get up at the tardy bell. Five minutes later, I heard the bell and I got up. My foot caught on the fake tree and I fell forward. I came eye to eye with a mousehole. I noticed something in it. A small, blinking light. I reached my hand in and felt something slimy. I quickly pulled my hand out and looked at my fingers. They were wet as if something had licked them. I looked back in the mouse hole and saw nothing. I got up and quickly ran out of the room. I arrived at the classroom and the lights were off. It was science class and they were watching a video about cells. The class room was set up where the door was in the back, all the desks facing away from it, except for the teacher’s. His attention was on the screen, so I hoped I could get in unnoticed. Sure enough, I slipped in my seat and nobody said anything. I had lost my glove so I just shoved my hand in my desk. I tried to follow along in the video. I felt myself start to fall asleep again but the video ended and a guy on the screen yelled in an obnoxious voice “THANK YOU FOR WATCHING! IF YOU WANT TO LEARN MORE GO TO WWW DOT LEARNMORESCI-” The teacher stopped the video and turned the lights on. “Okay class, today we will be looking at cells under the microscope and draw a full diagram of it and label the parts,” the teacher said. For the next thirty-five minutes I looked through the microscope and tried to draw a cell. Normal twelve year olds would be able to draw a cell. But of course, me not being a normal twelve year old, I couldn’t. I still took art class to get better at drawing. At the end of class I turned my work in. Before I could see the disappointed look on the teacher's face, I rushed out. I walked outside of school and saw Jett, my dog. This had happened a couple times before. The elementary school and middle school are right next to each other. The only thing separating them was the football field and track. My mom used to drive me to school with Jett in the car. So Jett knew the way to school. I walked up to Jett and rubbed his head. He was a Siberian husky. He was massive. I mean, just huge. Nobody had wanted him because he had a paw problem. His left paw was messed up at birth. It was thin and frail. I had picked him because I could relate to him. He limped when he walked and could only run for short amounts of time but that didn’t bother me. I had known him longer than Soapy. So technically, Jett was my best friend. My phone started to buzz in my pocket. I pulled it out and answered it. “Hey Mom,” I said, still petting Jett. “I can’t find Jett anywhere, is he at your school again?” she asked. I laughed. “Yeah, he’s here. I’ll walk him back.” “Thanks Luke!” she said. “Yeah, No problem Mom. Love you,” I said. “Love you too!” The phone beeped and I put it back in my pocket. I looked up and saw a couple of kids surrounding a girl. They were kicking her notebook down the road next to the sidewalk as she chased it. I had recognized the girl as the one from math class..Summer. “C’mon Jett. Let’s go help her,” I said. We walked up and Jett started to growl. Jett was a huge dog, so he was pretty scary when he bared his teeth. The kids noticed and started to back away. “Hey guys!” I said casually. “Jett here really just wants to play tag with somebody. How about all of you?” Jett barked and ran forward. The kids scrambled and started to run. Jett chased them about forty feet and turned around. Jett walked back and I picked up the note book and handed it to Summer. “Why did you help me?” she asked. “I don’t like bullies,” I said. She smiled. “Well thanks.” I nodded. I turned around and started walking home. Jett followed right behind me. “Two more weeks Jett,” I said. “Then it’s off to summer…school.” I said with barely any enthusiasm. I was sad that I would be going, but not as sad because Soapy would be there. I walked for thirty minutes. I came up on my street and dug in my pocket. I pulled out my house keys and walked up to my house, I unlocked the door and walked in. “Hey!” I said as I walked in. “Hey bro,” I heard a familiar voice say. I grinned. I never understood the book or movie stereotype where all older brothers and younger brothers hate each other. Me and my brother, Jerimiah, had an unbreakable bond. We hardly ever fight, like all the same stuff, and agree on pretty much everything. “Hey J!” I said walking up to Jerry. “I was just about to make a snack, want one?” He asked. I nodded. “Thanks man. Oh by the way, where's Mom?” I asked. Jerry looked at me. He had the same facial features as me. Black hair and green eyes. “She left to go to the store, like, 2 minutes before you got here,” he answered. “Ah, ok. So what snack are you pulling together?” Jerry wasn’t much of a cook. “Sandwiches,” he said. He threw together two sandwiches and handed one to me. “Thanks, J,” I said. He walked to the living room and plopped on the couch. He turned on football and I lumbered to my room. I stared out of my window and saw somebody. He walked up to the mailbox, stuck something inside, and walked back to his van. The van had fainted words and I could only make out “venwoo” and “titute” “Huh,” I muttered to myself. I ran downstairs. I opened the door and walked to the driveway. I opened the mailbox and pulled out its contents. I saw the mail that was just put in there, which was a letter, along with other things. A lame magazine about clothes, a report card, (not good) and coupons. I closed the mailbox and walked back inside. I put the magazine, report card, and coupons on the table. I sat down and ripped open the letter and unfolded the paper. “Hello Anderson residence, We are writing to inform you that Luke Anderson will be attending a special summer school. This summer school is in Pennsylvania. All expenses paid. This special summer school only lasts one month. Read second paper for more details.” I read aloud. I put the letter on the counter and walked back up to my room. I was throwing a ball at the wall when I heard the familiar rumble of an SUV. I looked out of my window and saw Mom’s car. I ran out of my room and slid downstairs and opened the door. “Hey,” I said casually. She smiled. She had short red hair, and green eyes. I got my eyes from her, and my hair from my dad. My dad. He had died when I was young. He was a cop and took a bullet in a shootout at a Mcdonalds. Of course, everybody made fun of it. “Think your dad ever got his big mac?” people would say. “Should have used the drive through!” I blinked. “You..didn't hear anything from school?” I asked. She frowned. “No, why did something happen?” I shook my head fast. “Nope, nothing. Jerry is actually-” I turned around and found out he was gone. I had no idea how he does it. He leaves with no trace. I turned back. “Well hello,” I said. She smiled again. She walked in and noticed the letter. “What’s this?” she asked. “Something for summer school,” I said. She sighed and opened it. Her eyes flickered over it and she sighed again. “I guess they are paying for it” Mom said. “Mom, they can't just send me to another state,” I shot back. “Maybe this will work, Luke,” she said. “Sure. let’s hope,” I said sarcastically. I ran upstairs and kicked my wall. I layed on my bed for two hours. I looked at the clock. Eight ‘o two. I ran downstairs and saw food on the table. I noticed Mom was already asleep in her room. She has been having to get up really early to go to the children's hospital for more shifts. I walked to the table and took the napkin off the top. Grilled cheese with peppers, and marinara. I smiled. It was my favorite. “Thanks mom,” I said to myself. I ate quickly and ran back upstairs. I fell on my bed and started to fall asleep. Thankfully it was dreamless. I woke up to my alarm blaring at seven. I got up, brushed my teeth, and got dressed. I was about to walk out of the door when I tripped on something. I caught myself and looked at what I tripped on. Jettt had left one of his chewed up dog toys on the floor. I laughed and moved it aside. I opened the door and ran to the bus stop. I arrived breathless. The bus rolled up and I was the first inside. I ran to the back of the bus and flopped on a seat. I took deep breaths until I could breathe properly. I heard the bus doors close and the engine start. The bus was so full by the time we got to school, some kids were having to sit on the aisle floor. I climbed out of the bus and immediately got tripped by Butch. I fell down and hit my nose on the pavement. I felt my nose. It wasn’t bleeding, thankfully. I got up and ran inside the school. I ran all the way to my first class without getting breakfast. I walked inside. English. I wasn’t too bad at this subject. I went to my usual spot in the back. I sat down and looked to my right. Someone else was sitting there with their hood up. I leaned forward a bit. I saw two blue eyes. Startling blue eyes. “Summer?” I asked. She turned to me. She had tears in her eyes. “Yeah?” she said softly. “Um…what happened?” I asked. Summer shook her head. “None of your business.” I nodded. “Okay. Alright.” I leaned back in my seat. Summer took her hood off and looked at me. “Sorry. I wasn’t trying to be rude,” she said. I nodded again. “I honestly deserve it,” I said back. She shook her head. “You seem nice to me,” she said. “No I’m not. Now what happened?” I asked. “I… have to go to summer school. But that's not why I’m sad. My father is a bit…angry. He expects me to be perfect and…he told me I should be able to pass school and now he’d have to pay money out of his own pocket for me to go to summer school. He then…then he told me it would have been better if he just left me in an orphanage to rot. Normally I could handle a comment like that. But he’s been heckling me on and on and I finally just broke. None of my friends are going to summer school. It’s in a different state. I’m going to be alone. Some stupid girl who can’t even pass school,” she answered. “Well… I guess you could say I’m stupid too,” I said. Summer looked at me. “You’re going to summer school too?” she asked. I nodded. “Yeah. So is my friend.” She looked away again. “At least you’ll have a friend there.” I cleared my throat. “Yeah well… I mean there's a chance you couldn’t be alone,” I said. “How?” Summer asked. “I mean… maybe it’d be cool if we…what i'm trying to say is…if we were friends- then you wouldn't be alone.” I was terrible at this. Summer smiled a tiny smile. “Maybe that would work,” she said. “I mean only if we did become friends.” I smiled. Summer laughed. “You look like you don’t smile often,” she said. “It kind of takes a bit to make me smile,” I said. “Maybe we should change that,” she said. I nodded. “I respectfully doubt that, but okay.” She looked like she was about to say something else but then kids started filing in. I leaned back in my chair and waited until all the kids were inside the classroom. Our teacher walked in after all of the kids. He sat at his desk and waited for the kids to quiet down. “Hello children,” he said. Mr. Brook was…questionable. He tried to be funny but failed most of the time. He gives out really good grades even if people don’t deserve them. Like, on pop quizzes, he’ll just pass everyone. Pretty much everybody writes down whatever answers they want and get an A. “Today we are gonna continue reading Lord Of The Flies,” Mr. Brook said. He got out his copy and we all got out ours. I opened my book to a random page and just kept on it. The teacher read for about forty-five minutes. After that he told us to turn to our partner and discuss what we had read. I turned to Summer. “Hello,” I said. “Hey stranger,” she said. “So, uh…you read the book, right?” I asked. Summer laughed. “Yeah, I did. How about you? That page you stayed on must’ve been very interesting.” I nodded. “Yeah, I just couldn’t stop reading it.” “Oh, well then what happened?” I opened my mouth. “They, uh, found the fly god?” I said. Summer laughed again. “That’s not what the book is even about,” she said. “Oh. Then why call it ‘Lord Of The Flies’?” “Maybe read the book to find out.” I shrugged. “I don’t like reading. I hope I don’t have to read in summer school.” We talked about summer school for the remaining time. When the bell rang I got up and walked out of the door. “I’m in art next.” I said to summer. “I’m in gym,” She said. “After that… theater. Then french…history…math…and last is science.” I nodded. “Looks like we have the same last three classes.” I said. Summer nodded. “How very cool.” We went our separate ways. I arrived at art class and saw Butch watching me from the door. “Not today,” I said to myself. I turned around and started walking the other way. I heard footsteps following me and I started to run. I ran right past summer who was still on her way to the gym. “Luke?” She said, Right after she said that, I tripped over someone’s sneaker. I slammed into the ground. Kids stopped and looked at the ground. Butch walked up and stood me up. “We ran into each other again, what a small school,” he said. “You chased me down, idiot,” I retorted. “I swear I am going to rip you limb from limb,” he said. “I’d love to see you try. By the way how’s your face Butch? I got it pretty goo-”I stopped talking when I felt my wrist being twisted. Butch had hold of it and was twisting it more with each word. “If. You. Ever. Punch. Me. Again. I will kill you.” “As if you could,” I said back. Butch let go of my wrist and took a step back. That caught me off guard so the hit was all the more terrible. I fell backward and looked up. I saw Summer’s face. “Hola,” I said cheerfully. She reached out a hand and helped me up. She looked at Butch for a second. She turned around and started walking the other way. “Wait, I wanna hurt him,”I said. “No, you must certainly do not want to,” Summer said, still dragging me. “Yes I do!” I broke free from her grasp. Summer looked me right in the eye. I had only known her for barely two days and she already perfected the “I’m going to kill you if you don’t listen to me” look. I looked down. “Fine,” I muttered. I walked to art class and sat down in the front. I would have sat in the back, but all the seats were taken. I grumbled about stupid kill stares. “Hello Luke,” Soapy said. “Hey,” I said. The rest of the day I trudged around dreading summer school. At the end of the day I lumbered home. When I got there Jett attacked me. Not really like violent attack, but I was definitely attacked with lots of dog kisses. “Jett! Stop!” I said, laughing. Jett backed up and ran upstairs. I looked around for Mom and sighed. She had been taking not just earlier morning shifts, but extra night shifts too. I walked upstairs not caring enough to get something to eat. The next two weeks leading up to the end of school were boring as ever. Summer and I got to know each other. On the last day, I didn’t have to bring my backpack. It was sort of a half day, because we had all of our classes but half the time so we could clean out our desks. For the rest of the day, we were allowed to go about the school saying goodbye and stuff. I was looking for Summer when I saw it. Just for a second, I saw something slither into a classroom. I looked around to see if anyone else saw it. Nobody seemed to be paying attention. I walked slowly to the classroom. I know, I know, this is the part in a horror movie when I slowly walk up, slowly open the creaky door, and out pops a creepy exorcist ghost. I was just so curious as to what I just saw. I opened the door, (no it wasn’t creaky) and walked inside. No ghosts popped out, so that was a good start. I slowly walked around and looked for whatever it was I saw. I saw movement in a corner and I ran for it. It was a mouse. I had seen a mouse. I picked up the mouse and opened the window. After I set it out, I went to the bathroom to wash my hands. I walked out and resumed looking for Summer. I was about to give up when I spotted her across the cafeteria. She looked like she was looking for someone too. I pushed my way through the crowd and stopped in front of her. “Hey,” I said. “Hello!” She said cheerfully. “So, who were you looking for?” I asked. Summer smiled. “I found him, don't worry,” she answered. “Dang well maybe you should go talk to him,” I joked. “Maybe I should,” she said, going along with it. I laughed and started walking. “Where are you going?” she asked. I gestured for her to follow. She walked next to me. “Ok, different question. Where are we going?” I kept on walking and climbed upon the stage. “Um, are we going to sing?” she kept on asking. I walked backstage and came up on the familiar door. “Here,” I said. Summer frowned. “I don’t know if we’re allowed to be here,” she said cautiously. “Nah I’m here all the time,” I answered. I opened the door and walked in. I smiled at the familiarity. “What is this place?” she asked. “The prop room. I go here a lot to get away from all the noise. I’ve never brought someone else in here,” I answered. I climbed up a stack of boxes and Summer followed. “These boxes stack up kind of high,” she said. I shrugged. “Yeah, I twisted my ankle jumping from them once,” I said. Summer looked down. “Maybe we shouldn’t be up here,” she said. I smirked. “We’re fine up here, we won't get hurt,” I said, laughing a little. Summer looked at my hand. I was surprised she hadn’t mentioned it before. I waited for her to ask a bajillion questions but she said nothing. “Didn’t expect that,” I muttered a little too loudly. “Expect what?” Summer asked. “I expected you to ask questions,” I said, holding my hand up. Summer shook her head. “I don’t see why there would be a reason to.” she answered. I stared at her. Normally people would make fun of it, or ask tons of questions, to the point where I once told someone I lost it while trying to tame an elephant. I smiled to myself. Summer pulled her phone out and turned it on. Right at that, the door opened.

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Hello! Ik it's been awhile! But I came here to tell you abt this awesome website: https://www.rangen.co.uk/ 

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Hello! Ik it's been awhile! But I came here to tell you abt this awesome website: https://www.rangen.co.uk/ 

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If you ever need some inspiration or trying to figure out what you want to do next in your book, then this website will rlly help!

P.s: this may not be sponsored, but at least it's not sponsored by NordVPN XD jk

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Luke Anderson is a normal kid. Or so he thought. When Luke, a disabled middle schooler, get captured by sketchy institute officials, he doesn't know what's gonna happen to him. He aqquires weird other worldy powers from an expirament. At the Rovenwood institute, he grows friendships, fights battles, and goes on wild adventures. Who knows. Maybe Luke might find a secret to another world...

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It felt as if I was chasing after a tornado when I'm a leaf
Is he going to break me?
I fell for him like a leaf out of a tree
I fell for him way too quickly

Will my soaring heart
Be torn apart?
Because of something I sought?
Will I be broken in a love drought?
Will this be a lesson need to be taught?
If so I guess it's my fault

But there's something about him that makes me feel at- peace
The way he holds me makes me feel at ease
A gentle smile I can't delete from my memories
With him I found a change in me
I now have a new personality
And identity
He was the tree
And I was the leaf
The wind blew a gentle breeze
If I fall will he catch me?
I don't know but it's time to fall little leaf

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Poet: Soul
Poem type: Unrelatable

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If you want to state some fun facts about your book/song/poem, explain your book/song/poem, or talk about the inspiration that led to your book/song/poem here's the place to do it.

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If you want to state some fun facts about your book/song/poem, explain your book/song/poem, or talk about the inspiration that led to your book/song/poem here's the place to do it.

# data[].attributes.headline
You can post when you're going to post your next creative work or  the next part to that creative work (just make sure you update it when needed). For example:

# data[].attributes.subject
You can post when you're going to post your next creative work or  the next part to that creative work (just make sure you update it when needed). For example:

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Heartbreak Bound: Every Thursday

(Note: Heartbreak Bound is finished due to religion and orders)