Day as a loser

Day As A Loser

Hello stranger, or whoever it is reading my story. Let me get straight to the point. What I’m going to relate to you is not something that you will believe easily. So when I tell you this story, please keep your mind open to the possibilities of that which I relate to you. Maybe I can offer some ample proof to what I’m going to say, but I really don’t know. Maybe it’s better if you just sent this down and forget about it. You decide.

It started when I was riding my bike to the library. I’ve always loved the air passing me by, the exhilaration that it brings when I pick up speed. The wind whips my hair about in different directions, and my clothing rustles audibly as I lower my head closer to the bike to go faster. Pedals flying almost faster then I could turn my legs; I was got a sufficient amount of speed. I stood up, letting go of the handle bars and swung my arms out, and griped the bike’s seat just below my knees so I can get as high as I can. Lifting my arms to embrace the wind, I close my eyes for a short bit to feel the cold bite lightly at my face and hands. I enjoy it though because cold has never been a major discomfort to me. Knowing that it’s more then a little dangerous, I open my eyes so I can more easily direct my bike on the sidewalk. It wasn’t needed though, being chilly, overcast, and having a general gloomy disposition, very few people were out and about. Looking around me, I could only spot a few cars, and there were no people to speak of that were immediately visible. Dropping back down to my bike, I start pedaling hard, giving myself speed for the last hill ahead. Struggling, panting for breath, and with a large stupid grin on my face I make it over the hill and am now in view of the library. Coasting down the large parking lot, I stop my bike at a bike rack and chain it there. Leaving my helmet by my bike I walk to the large concrete building. Glancing at the signs advertising the next program the library is hosting, I push open the double doors into the foyer. Going through the next set of doors I look around the library. The check out desk was directly to my left, and the biography/nonfiction books were on racks on my right, all the way to the back of the library. Right in the middle are the computers that also reached to the far back, ending at the small teen section. To the left of that, were the adult fiction and the children’s books. However, I knew as soon as I entered that something was wrong. There was no one there. Lights on, doors unlocked, but not a soul in sight. My gaze raked the library thoroughly, but there were no signs of anybody. I just kind of stood there looking around, feeling strange weird in all the silence that I’m not used to in a library. I mean, I know it’s supposed to be quiet, but there’s always the quite murmurings that go on when the librarians not paying attention. I felt a little exhilarated, I must admit, being all alone in what seemed to be an abandoned library. I thought about going back out side and looking around for the reason of the strangeness, but I decided against it when I heard the door open behind me. When I turn around to look however, in walked the most bizarre creature. To this day I don’t have any idea who or what it is. It stood to my waist, maybe three feet above the ground. It wore clothes that looked about a few hundred years out-of-date. Something maybe Tom Sawyer would wear. Going around with hairy, bare feet, like a hobbit or something. But the weirdest thing about it was the skin. The creature looked to be several hundred years old, with its skin as wrinkly as any human at 80 years old. With green skin and huge, thin ears, he reminded me of Dobby, with his nose to boot. But above the non-existent chin, above the thin line that was a mouth, were the eyes. The eyes had something in them that rooted me to the ground and left me staring. The eyes were small, and looked quite weird on the face of overly large features. However, it was IN the eyes that amazed me. they were old, and I don’t know how I know this, but the eyes were like the ones who had lived forever, that had seen far to much for any one person to see. He had eyes that looked into my eyes and somehow saw my heart at the same time, and left me feeling like I was revealing everything to the creature, and left me feeling striped and bare before him. His eyes seemed to change then, into ones that seemed very understanding, like they knew what was going on inside me, all the conflicts I had ever faced seemed to surface and understand in his eyes. And then there was the dismissal, as if I were no more then a bug, a small worthless piece of annoying dust. I was so deep in my thoughts that it took me a moment to realize he was heading down the isle between the non-fiction and the computers. He headed toward the door that lead to the quiet room, where it’s supposed to be totally silent. I ran to keep up with him and walked beside him down the isle, looking at him all the way. He glanced at me, stopped, and stared at me full on again.
“What the heck do you think your doing?” he said. He sounded like an experienced singer with a melodious voice trying to sound disdainful and not quiet making it. Either way though, so warped in my thoughts and still in shock/amazement, I couldn’t come up with the words to speak. I just stared at him dumbly. The creature takes one last look at me before turning away and striding more quickly to the door. I thought I heard “stupid human” as he walked on. I ran to catch up with him and managed a strangled sounding grunt that only slightly sounded like “wait.”
“What are you?” I managed to say as I caught up with him. He glanced at me as he walked and said, “I am a … eh … how do you humans say it … goblin? Yes, yes that’s right, goblin. Blast, or was it gnome? There’s so many … wait no, the gnomes are the bearded ones. So … wait, it was Saurus. No … by the powers! Stupid humans.” The Goblin had now reached the quiet room door and turn to me. “don’t you have something better to do? Check out a book, check out some chicks, check out some cars, whatever you teenagers do.” I started to get a little sense back, enough to ask “what are you doing”, even if it was in the most monotoned voice you could imagine. The Goblin was imedeatly turned on th defenseive, and said “none of you business. This is strictly NOT for humans. Now leave me alone so I can do my work. Hold on, I got an idea.” The goblin put his hands about 3 inches beyong the doornob, and pressed hard on the invisible air. “Perfect” he mutterd. He then proceeded to go through the doorway, closing it behind him. I could see inside a little bit because of a small window that was built into the door, but I could not reach the doornob because of some invisible wall the goblin must have put up. Now that I finally looked inside, I saw that there were three men in black with pistols, one with a shotgun. They gaurded about 10 people inside the room, right in th middle. Their faces were coverd so you could see nothing of them. for some reason, no one registred the goblins presence. The goblin proceeded to take the weapons out of the mens hands, and leaving them dazed, staring at their hands where the weapons dissappeard. There were 5 or 6 well built people there in the room, and once they saw the weapons were miraculasly gone, they jumped onto the men in black. Having the men subdued and their weapons in his arms, the goblin walked back out the door. “here” he said, and gave the mens weapons to me. as I cradled the weapons in my arms dumbly, a few men ran out the door. Seeing me with the weapons, they ran over and quickly thanked me, somehow, I had distracted the men inside and had taken their weapons. I have not quite got the whole story of what happened their, I just know that I saw something someone that no one else did, and it scared me. sense then, I have had the rare glimps of some manner of creature here and there, but never as close up as this.
So there you have it, my story, no matter how unbelievable. It’s up to you to discern, I can tell no more.

children story

i wrote this as a childrens story for school, because i had to use parallelism. parallelism is where certain attributs of the story are repeated. you’ll see what i mean (i hope) once you read it.

One day, Ryan and his little sister Mary were walking in the woods. Ryan told his sister many funny jokes, and watched her gasp in wonder as he pulled pennies out of her ears. They were laughing at some funny joke when someone jumped into their path. It was a slender young man, with long blond hair that fell past his shoulders, and pointed ears!
He said to them, “Why hello! You must be new here, for I’ve never seen you before. Would you like to join me and my friends in a grand feast to celebrate our new king?” Mary loved the idea and pleaded with Ryan to go with this stranger.
Ryan was careful and said, “What about mother? She asked us to be back before dark.”
The stranger smiled and said, “Oh don’t worry then! When we finish feasting and the games, we will bring you home in a flash!”
“Please Ryan?” Mary said, showing her puppy dog eyes.
“All right” said Ryan, giving in. “But only for a short while.”
“Wonderful!” said the stranger, “follow me!” They followed the stranger through the forest until they came to a leafy meadow filled with wooden tables containing more food then you could shake a stick at. The stranger ran to join his friends, many of whom were already at the tables eating. Ryan spotted another unfamiliar person, similar to the one who found them, on a great throne at one end of the meadow, surveying the new guests. Mary glanced at her brother and said,
“Come on Ryan! Look at all the food! I’m hungry!” she was about to take off running to the food when Ryan reached out and grabbed her.
“Hold on sis, something’s not right here.” He surveyed the elves eating furiously, gorging themselves on the food. He also observed a strange light behind Mary eyes that he didn’t like. “We should not eat next to complete strangers. We should not have even followed someone we didn’t know. We must leave quickly.” Ryan grabbed his sisters arm in a firm grip and turned to go back through the woods. However, as he turn around he was surprised to see another stranger right behind them. This stranger was not slender and clean, nor did he have pointed ears. Rather, he had a long dirty beard that was tucked neatly into his belt. His grimy face was grinning up at Ryan because he was much shorter. He was as tall as a man’s legs, and no more. He wore what looked like heavy armor, with his arms crossed over his chest.
“Woi ‘ello! Ye must be new heres, cuz I’ve never seen ye befores.” He said gruffly. “haha, ye’re smarter then oi thought. Wise of yeh not to eat ‘der food, or yeh might never ‘ave left agin! Ye wish teh turn home ‘den? Well, I’ll show ye’re de way. But befors ye go, will ye excepd a gift from us’s? Me and me brudders I mean. We’re expandin’, and we needs to make room for more gold and gems. Just a bit tho’, we love our glitter, just eh few trinkets for ye. Like tis” the stranger pulled out a golden necklace with a large green emerald on the circlet in the middle. Both Ryan and Mary were drawn to it, wanting to touch it. Soon however, it was gone again, somewhere underneath all the armor he wore. “Well, what d’ye say?” he asked.
“Don’t forget mother! She asked us to be back before dark, and the sun is already slipping away.” The stranger smiled and said,
“Oh don’t ye worry ‘den! Just come wit me and ah’ll lead ye to me cave. Just pick out a few trinkets and we’ll take yeh to yer homes! Aur tunnels go everywhere, so’s we can put yeh back to yer home in no times.”
“Please Ryan?” Mary said, her lower lip trembling and her eyes looking for the necklace. Ryan thought about how much the money he would get b selling the “trinkets”, and quickly agreed. The stranger lead them a little ways into the woods then went down into a cleverly concealed hole in the ground. He took out a torch and lit it, and they carried on through the tunnel. At last, they came to a large chamber that was completely underground. It was like being in an upturned bowl, Ryan thought. in the middle of the chamber was a large hole, where bouts of liquid fire came bursting out.
“What’s that?” asked Ryan.
“Tha’?” replied the stranger pointing at the large hole. “Is just where we’s gets aur gold and gems. dats liquid gold yeh see de’re, but ye can’t ‘ave none o’ that. Look to de other side o’ the cavern de’re, inside dat cave.” The children looked where the stranger spoke, and saw a cave filled to the brim with glittering gold and gems. Mary and her brother stood there awestruck and couldn’t move. Staring at the mountain of gold, the fire pit was soon forgotten. Mary took a hazy step forward and tripped on a rock. Before she could fall, however, Ryan caught her in his arms. He looked at the pit of fire, and back at the grinning stranger, and saw an evil glimmer in his eyes.
“No” Ryan said, “No, we need to get home, NOW.”
“Why hello! You must be new here, for I’ve never seen you before.” Startled by another presence, all three looked around. An old man was walking swiftly toward them, a staff thudding against the stone floor as he walked. He was dressed in grey and looked hunched up. When he reached the group he stopped and looked into Ryan’s eyes.
“My, you’re such a brave young man.” The old man said. “Such strength is rare these days. Why don’t you come with me, and I’ll take you to a place that you would love more then anything.” Ryan was on his guard this time, and demanded,
“Where are you taking us?”
“Why, home dear boy,” the old man said with a sparkle of a tear in his kind, wrinkled eyes. “I’m here to take you home.” Ryan smiled with relief. Suddenly, thunder shook the cavern and rocks fell from the high ceiling to the floor.
“Hurry, we must go quickly! Follow me, and I will lead you out.” The old man led them through the tunnels with surprising agility, though rocks and dust poured continually from the tunnel ceiling. Mary was coughing and stumbling in the dark, so Ryan carried her and followed the old man by the sound of his footsteps. They finally came out of the tunnels into the last rays of sunlight.
Then old man turned to Ryan and said, “I must leave you here on after, but don’t worry, you’ll be safe. Just follow that small dirt path there, the straight and narrow one, and you’ll be safe.”
“But where are you going?” asked Ryan, clutching tiny Mary in his arms.
The old man laid his hand on the back of Ryan’s head, bent down so they were looking at each other at eyelevel, and said, “Oh you brave boy. I go to rescue others just like you. Others trapped in a web of greed and self-indulgence. Now run home, quick! Before the sun goes down!” The old man walked into the forest and disappeared. Ryan set off at a run, his feet coming down heavily on the path. Thump thump thump. . . . Endlessly his feet pounded the dirt, running through bushes, keeping to the straight and narrow path. It’s all or nothing he thought, now or never. Carrying Marry through the dark forest, he began to lose sight of the sun, slowly entering the mountain ahead. He ran harder, holding Mary tightly in his arms. Strangers yelled at him from the trees to stay, to live forever, to enjoy his time as a child, but they held nothing but fear for him now, and he ran on. Finally, he broke through a group of trees just as the sun slipped behind the mountain, and what did he see in the distance but his family’s cottage, and his mother coming out calling his name.

the Demon

well, this is (really) my only really good story. i think this is my best work. it’s just about a guy who discovers a demon. it was going to be a book that i really wanted to make. unfourtunatly, i wasn’t able to do anything with it. here is what i have however. tell me what you think.

 

The old man, sitting in his wooden chair, took a book that a nearby servant was holding. He blew the dust off the book and opened it to the front of the book. He raised his eyes to the audience in the chamber hall. The king himself was listening to the story. The old man opened his mouth and spoke in a raspy voice. “What I am about to tell you is one of the most famous stories of old. It is about a boy, who grew to be a man above all men. It is about demons and creatures less pleasant. Nevertheless, our hero is our hero still. Remember this, you will probably only hear this once in your lifetime.” With that, the old man lowered his graying eyes and began to read.

As dawn’s light slowly crept through the trees and the forest stirred with new life, a young man walked the road. This young man was actually larger then most men, especially around the middle. Gailen had an unhealthy habit of eating too much, and you always knew it was him when you saw the massive pack of food on his back. He carried a knobby walking staff with a strange green light at the tip. His clothes were made of normal homespun cloth with a tough leather jerkin. He had a leather hat guarding his bald spot he swears he does not have, a bow, and a quiver full of arrows across his back. You could tell he was going hunting, for that was just about the only thing he did, for Gailen was a butcher’s son. He made his living through the store in town where he sells meat with his father. He had two packs this day, one for his food, and the other for his equipment.
His cheeks were red with the early morning chill as he whistled along, dreaming of the sweedan ale that would be brewing at his friends’ house. His friend Zadon and his father ran a roadside cavern a few miles south of the city. They had planned this hunt for a long time, together in the forest.
As Gailen continued walking, he spotted smoke rising from the trees. He though to himself, what can that be? No hunter is stupid enough to light a fire with normal wood in the forest. For he knew what all hunters did. They bring flambre, a special kind of white wood that does not give out smoke. It was not very hard to get. It was a common supply for the hunters nearby, and sold in many hunting shops. As he thought about it, he became curious, and stepped off the path toward the forest. He hesitated at the edge of the forest, Being an experienced hunter. He knew better then to do things without a good reason and sound planning when it comes to the Forest of Mordon. However, his curiosity got the better of him and he continued.
As Gailen traveled through the forest, it seemed as if the trees had swallowed the road behind him. The tree branches were thick and large, with cobwebs scattered here and there. The brush grew high, making it nigh impossible to push through, and resulting in using his sword. He looked up, but all he saw were the trees around him, blocking sunlight with their wide spread branches. He was about to give up and turn back to the road, already having his doubts in the wisdom of going into the forest in the first place, when he smelled smoke in the air. It must have been closer then I first suspected! He thought. He then proceeded cautiously, peering through the branches as he moved slowly along. As the smell grew stronger, he crouched and moved more carefully. Soon he came to an edge of a clearing, and was astounded by what he saw.
The edge of the clearing was scorched, burnt to a crisp. There was nothing left of the grass, for the ground was covered in ash and blood. Bodies cluttered on the ground, hands grasping at nothing. In the midst of it all, stood a Darfkahn. The demon was completely black with streaks of red. His four deadly arms stuck out like a spiders limbs, and each arm held a dark sword. However, the sword was not nearly as dangerous as the poison in its diamond hard, foot long nails that came out at its knuckles. The poison that resides in those nails would slowly, painfully, horribly take control of your body, turning your body on your own allies. This demon had a large dark cloak covering its whole body and draping over the charred earth.
The Darfkahn were a race of creatures that were destroyed long ago, when they had risen to dominate the world. The races of good joined forces and defeated the Darfkahns. They were thought to be wiped out, but there had been rumors that a few managed to survive. Little scorched clearings like this one have been found, but were dismissed by the foolish as remains from the last war. But there were some that knew the truth. The Darfkahns had survived. They had survived and were in hiding.
This one must have been one of the few that made it! Gailen thought. He looked on in awe at the 8 foot tall demon.
After recovering from his initial amazement, Gailen saw something that astounded him. The demon was staring at a sword. However, as Gailen saw, it was not just any sword, this one had a gem studded golden hilt, and a diamond blade. A sword such as the one Gailen was looking on is hard to find, and very expensive if bought from the dwarves (only they know how to make such blades). Its incredible beauty startled him, and he thought to himself, if only I could just distract the demon enough so that I could. . . Gailen shook his head, wondering if he had gone insane. Distract him! I would only lose my life! Then he realized the power of the sword. It’s hypnotism. He thought grimly. And the Darfkahn has probably realized that by now. He thought. But wait, if he knew it, why would he be staring at it? Gailen wondered. Unless the sword controls him too! He looked at the sword again. If the demon is hypnotized, maybe I can just. . . and at that point, he realized what he was thinking about and immediately looked away from the sword. Slowly retreating from the sword and demon, he thought how close to death he had become. As soon as he was out of hearing distance of the demon, he broke into a run.

hope you enjoyed the story!

-Bo

“Eddy”

A little while ago, I though it would be fun to write a sort of comedy about a man and a ghost that befriends him. All sorts of awkward situations would naturally arive, and I though it might be something worth writing about. As is normally the case, I never finished it. But I’ll post here the little bit that I did write, and you can let me know if you think I was onto something; who knows, maybe someday I’ll finish it.

Disclaimer: I don’t actually believe in ghosts.

–I feel that I must explain the events that led my neighborhood to be spoken of with fear and apprehension. I must explain why my neighbors go around expecting to be surprised, and why many of them have grey hair now instead of brown, black, blonde, or red hair. Why even I myself never know quite what to expect. It all started in some God-forsaken “ghost” town in Nevada.

 A desert in Nevada might seem like a strange place to be in the summer, but none the less that is where I found myself one clear Augusts evening. I had been passing through Nevada on my way north to my home, and when darkness began to fall, I was still in a wide and empty desert. I don’t know the name of this desert, but it could have been the Sahara desert for all I cared, as there was no civilized place I knew of in the next 200 miles. It had been a long and tiring day, so I had no desire to continue driving. The way I figured, I could find a decent spot on the desert road and just sleep in my car.

 As I pondered this idea, I suddenly approached a small town. I call it a town, but there were only 8 or so buildings, divided equally by the road I was on. When I entered the town, I stopped and looked around curiously. The place seemed to be deserted, and the buildings looked as if they dated back to the mid 1800’s. Along with a couple of shops, the town consisted of a saloon, hotel, and livery. All of the buildings were rotting, dusty, and in general, falling apart. I turned off my car, and stepped out of it. Not a sound could be heard but my own breathing and the quite sigh of the desert wind.

 Not being a superstitious man, I decided right off that this would be as good a place as any to stay the night. Now the question was whether to lodge in one of the buildings, or my car. It was almost completely dark now, and grabbing a flashlight, entered the sturdiest looking building, the hotel.

 The first room was obviously the lobby, with the front desk all dusty and cobwebby on the left against a wall. A short hallway went directly ahead, and I followed this. I examined each room skeptically. Most of them had holes and broken objects scattered all over the floor, but I finally came to one about halfway down the hall that was fairly decent. I turned left into the room and looked around. My back was to the door and I was standing in the middle of the musty room, when I hear a sound.

 In the hallway outside, I could distinctly hear the sound of chains dragging on the floor. I froze. The sound of chains continued for 5 more seconds, then stopped. I turned around slowly. Nothing in site. Then I heard a quick rattle of chains, a whirring sound, then a rattle of chains against floorboards again. This continued for a minute, then my curiosity got the better of me. Summoning up my courage, I approached the doorway, and peered down the hall to my left. What I saw shocked me.

 Only 3 yards or so down the hallway stood a transparent, white figure. It was dressed in a long shirt that went down to the floor. The ghost, for I had no doubt it was that, had chains around its wrists, and with these chains, oh it chills me even now, it was playing jump-rope (or rather jump-chain).
When it saw me staring speechlessly at it, the ghost let the chain fall to the ground. We stared at each other for a minute, it as speechless as I. “Oh,” exclaimed the ghost, as if suddenly remembering, ,“boo.” He smiled foolishly at me, then took a step forward and held his hand forward, saying, “Shake?”. No, I would not shake, choosing instead to flee bravely down the hallway and out the door of that dusty hotel. Springing hastily into my small SUV, I broke the sound barrier multiple times as I raced off into the sunset. Anything was better than sleeping in a building with a ghost.–

The Gruff Old Man

I really loved this story, mostly ’cause it’s a really big metaphor. we, as a class in my school, are just getting into metaphors, though i knew about them long before. this class however, has taught me a lot. i realize what a noob i am! ha-ha. well, this is just some creative writing about a couch that sits in my living room. enjoy! 

The couch that sits in the living room is a gruff old man. When used, he cries out in protest, and ever threatens to lose his temper. When the kids come along and jump upon him, he stays quite, and one can only sympathize with his silent submission. However, when his lady comes, he smiles with happiness, and gladly makes room for the most comfortable spot. His lady treats him nicely, with tender care and love, and in turn, the old man gruffly gives comfort and enjoyment in exchange. However, when his lady leaves him, as she must, he seems to sag with the loss. Despair comes as he spots the children again. However, he brightens again when his lady draws near. I wonder what happens, when his lady leaves him forever. Will the lady find no more use for the poor old man? How will he live, and where will he go from here? Best not to dwell on the future. Best to live and love in the present. Therefore, I see the old man, sitting there every morning, enjoying his lady’s comfort while he can. Besides, tomorrow is a long way off.

Bo