EbonyWolf10

In a lonely library Lies a corner in the back, With a small paper house, Upon a full filled up rack. It's base made of pens, And it's walls made of cards Keeps up a small roof, Of orange pencil shards. Inside the small house, Keeps a stick figure man, And his small paper cattle Who graze on his land. Eraser cap fields And sticky-note flowers Surround the stick figures house Along with paperback towers But near the small paper house, In the encyclopedia train, Where the covers are torn, Is an inked paper gang. With red marks like scars, And grim painted faces, The worn paper gang Hides good with no traces. They scatter dust on old books,

Angel- Chapter 3The Farrins Clan    Sunlight poured from the sky like a waterfall. It was hard to imagine it had been raining chickens and goats just the day before. The sunshine was illuminating my room, and for a moment I panicked, wondering where I was. Then I remembered; Creepy Vinny. Wes should be in the bedroom next door.    I relaxed a bit and stroked Syrus, who was snoring softly in his sleep. I felt better, revived and refreshed, although my stomach and head felt like crap. Let me rephrase that; I feel terrible.    I blinked the fuzzy yellow light away from my eyes, sighing and stretching as I did so. I felt way better than last

    An Umbreon's Story- Chapter 15Exploration of Darkness   Thumminathumminathumminathummina.    Denki's yellow figure dashed across the grassy landscape. Trailing behind her was Akemi and Artemis, Kazan and Amicus making the rear. Sieshin teleported to move.    "Hurry!" Denki hissed from the front. Whipping her head to the side, she saw a Flamethrower barrling towards her. The red flames licked the air as they sliced towards the Jolteon. Suddenly, the move stopped mid-way. Akemi cocked her head to the side to see the fire type darting away, joining a much larger group towards the middle of the field in front of the Tower. Crowded and co

In a lonely library Lies a corner in the back, With a small paper house, Upon a full filled up rack. It's base made of pens, And it's walls made of cards Keeps up a small roof, Of orange pencil shards. Inside the small house, Keeps a stick figure man, And his small paper cattle Who graze on his land. Eraser cap fields And sticky-note flowers Surround the stick figures house Along with paperback towers But near the small paper house, In the encyclopedia train, Where the covers are torn, Is an inked paper gang. With red marks like scars, And grim painted faces, The worn paper gang Hides good with no traces. They scatter dust on old books,

 We were looking for fish, but instead we found her. You’d think there would be more to do in Clearwater, Florida. Right by the coast, where the smell of sea salt and sea creatures turns noses to the air. Where gentle breezes carefully caress the palm of the land. Really, you’d think there’d be more to it than just scenery and sand. Come to think of it, the sand is the scenery. And the ocean. There’s surfing and hang-gliding and jet skiing and volleyball. If I had a surfboard or hang glider or jet ski or friends. See, all of those cost money. Life’s pretty boring when you don’t have any of that stuff. I

-=+Emory+=-     Crash!   I could clearly picture the pale faced boy's body at the bottom, crinkled and disfigured as blood poured from his wounds. My imagination almost wanted to make me vomit.     I don't know why I cared. He did try to kill me. He tried to kill Nareth. He was after us, and then he said he didn't want anyone to get hurt. Even when he tried to hurt me. He was a killer.  And he hurt himself. Now he's at the bottom. I was wondering why Nareth wasn't saying anything, why he was just loading his gun. Being prepared I guess.     I've been on missions like this before. Where the killer isn't afraid to die, so they can't be t

--Mikuo— In Kitatama High School, bored expressions and blank faces were not a surprise. The tick tock of the clock echoed earnestly through the classroom as the teacher droned on about DNA and genetics as if they were the most interesting thing in the world. It was the class before lunch, where everything seemed to have slowed down, making time drag on forever. Hatsune Mikuo tapped his pencil idly on his desk, his eyes wandering from the teacher to his classmates. From his seat in the back, he had a perfect view of all the rows of desks, and all the faces that sat in them. Most of the girls were passing notes. Most of the boys were wh