Writing

So, for some reason, I've started writing again. I don't know why, but I am. Writing takes me from my life and puts all my energy into making a new one for someone who doesn't exist.

Kora is nineteen. She's finished school. She's finished with everything. She doesn't leave her room. She decorates her windows with different coloured sticky notes. Average teenager, right?

No, not really. She has a tumor against her heart. She's suffering and scared.
She's going to die and everyone knows it.
One day, she is forced outside with a volunteer named Vince from the hospital where she is a regular. They get along quite well. She gets her hope back.
But Kora is balancing on a knife's edge.

And Vince has a secret that he's trying to hide from the world.
One that could destroy everything he's done.

Derek Landy, you have been nominated for the Icebucket challenge

Derek, as a promise to Zafira Kerias, I have nominated you for the ALS Ice Bucket Challenge.

24 hours, man.

At least it's not winter where you are. And at night.

Because that sucks.

Before:

After: 

I have always hated having a fringe. Mum knows that. She made me. She said to the hairdresser that I was going to have a fringe. And now look at it. From alright to looking like another girl in my class. Everyone will think that I'm copying her. Everyone will gossip and now I'm pissed.

They could at least have given me a side fringe...

I'm just going to cut it all off. Everything will come off and then I will be fine. I'd much rather have no hair than that.

Baby, I've got a gun

Got the gun.

Checked to make sure it was loaded.

Readied it.

Didn't tell any of you.

Hoped that I would just fade out.

Put it to my temple and took a deep breath.

I can't pull the trigger.

My finger is locked.

It's not going to move...

~~~

She'd taken the gun from her father's holster, he'd just come back from night watch and didn't think anyone would still be awake. Of course she was awake. There was no way she wouldn't. Not with the tears flowing down her cheeks like waterfalls, never ceasing.

Her father had walked into his room and she waited.

She made sure he was fast asleep as she got up, walking over the piles of discarded clothes and shoes on her bedroom floor, and made her way to the living room.
Her father's leather holster was sitting on the cabinet. She grabbed the gun and pulled it out with ease. She'd done it many times before.
Her eyes were well adjusted to the dark. It was easy for her to pull out the magazine, check it to make sure there were fresh bullets, and clicked it back into place. A simple handgun. She'd shot one before. She was more of a rifle girl, though. Handguns were too hard to get a proper aim with, but if the gun is touching the target?

She pressed the cold metal of the barrel against her temple and closed her eyes. She straightened as her finger fearlessly found the trigger.
Pull it.

She couldn't.

She put the gun down, back in its holster, and walked back to her room.

No one would ever know that she almost did it.

The Bloglandians might have had their ideas after some time.

But that's all she really cared about now. Not about her parents and siblings that would have ran out of their rooms at the sharp crack of the gun.

The Story of My Life

She sat, her face set in a serious mask as she spoke to her computer. "If you are reading this message, that means you’ve escaped them. They haven’t found you. You’re still alive, but not for much longer. Not unless you do exactly what I say.

"My name is Cynthia Rose. My organisation has sent you this message because you need our help. You need saving. And that is exactly what we do.

"You need to look outside your nearest window. If there is something out of place, go under a desk. Hide. You cannot be spotted listening to this message. It is purely confidential. If this information was to slip into the wrong hands, then we would all die. It is YOUR responsibility to keep the world safe."
Somewhere in another part of her house, her dog started to bark furiously. She hoped the recording didn't pick up the sound. She knew it would. There was no way a microphone as sensitive as hers wouldn't pick it up. She twitched and continued.
"has come to find you, but we will. We will find you,  we will set up guards out of sight. The world is coming to an end. We are all about to die."
The closed door to her room was thrust open and her dog barged in. Her sister, a curvy, redhead annoyance, was grinning at her from the door.
"Get her, girl!"
The dog leaped onto the girl's bed and jumped onto her lap. She roared and pushed the little dog off. Her sister had already closed the door and left. She got to her feet, stepping over the piles of clothing on the floor, and pulled open the light door. She stormed out to the clean living room, stubbing her toes on the way, and sat down heavily on an armchair.
Her sister was there within seconds.
"What?" The girl snapped.
Her sister snickered and called over the dog. She started to pat the ugly chair, encouraging the dog to leap up and try and attack her.
"STOP!" The girl cried.
"Come on! Come on, Coco!" The sister continued. Over and over again.
There was nothing she could do to stop it. Only one thing would get her sister's attnetion so she could flee. "RAPE!" She yelled.
As expected, her sister pulled away. Now it was her glaring at the girl. "That was the stupidest thing you've ever done. Don't even joke about that."
"You wouldn't let me up, Nikita."
The sister, Nikita, folded her arms across her chest. "Don't joke about that."
"You wouldn't let me up!"
"That isn't something you should joke about."
"You should have let me the Hell up!" The girl was getting angry. Nikita wasn't listening.
"You don't even-"
The girl lurched to her feet and threw up her hands in surrender. "Fine. Whatever. My sincerest apologies."
"You shouldn't need to apologise because it shouldn't have happened in the first place, Dannielle."
"No." Her voice was thick with fake disbelief. "Really? Oh, I'm so bloody sorry, your majesty. Take my head. Kill me. Do whatever. Killing me sounds like a good option. Especially with all the shit that is going on with my life right now. Please, I'll be in my room, like every other single second of my miserable life, if you require me."
Dannielle pushed her sister out of her way and stormed back to her room. She grabbed her iPod and flicked through her music until she gave up and put on the first song on shuffle. The Story of My Life by One Direction. Fitting.

So, it seems like I need to see my school counselor...

Fun.

Really fun.

Nice guy named Terry. I have his phone number... He's odd. He says that I'm interesting but I don't believe him

So fun.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T3E9Wjbq44E&list=RDHCMa780rRQ0I4&index=12

For later purposes.

Btw, hey WarZone ;)