So, I really can't stand the new Blogger and I'm tired of the issues I'm having here as well, so I am moving my blog. My new address is:
I look forward to seeing you all there!!
2 days ago
Guh, I love these guys! But that's beside the point. I made the whole Romeo and Juliet thing mesh in with the scene. There was also a dare about going to an amusement park, that I made a HUGE part of the plot.“Kill me, Carrighan,” he said with sorrow in his voice. “If it’s what you want then kill me! If this is all you want from me then take it and let me be! But don’t tell me you can’t because I know you can!”His voice was beginning to crack as he spoke and tears ran his face, mixing with the continuing rain.Carrighan shook his head, backing away until he hit the house, pressing against it. “I can’t Demetrios!”Thunder broke the sky as the Angel yelled “Do it!” The resolution of his decision was on his face along with the sorrow.Carrighan couldn’t take looking at him any longer and another wave of anger poured through him, this time at himself for not doing something about this. He grabbed Deme by the shirt and pulled him close bringing the knife to his neck and pushing his head back. He stared at the one in front of him, his heart racing his anger melting away and turning to self-hatred and guilt as he did this.“I can’t do it because… I love you…” he let the Angel go as his hands fell to his sides, the knife hitting the ground.Deme stared at him with a mirrored confused expression.“I… love you” he whispered, the confession lifting his heart but sent a whole new wave of terror through him. He couldn’t love an Angel, that’s impossible, it couldn’t happen! And he wouldn’t allow it. His wings spread and he took to the air flying over Deme’s head and taking off into the trees.Deme turned on his heel after a moment and took off after him.“Carrighan!” he called after the dark winged one ahead of him.The other man didn’t slow at all. The winds changed and pushed Carrighan back from where he was trying to go, though he had no destination in mind.He just wanted to get away from Deme.“No! No! No! No! No!!” he whined but the winds were too strong. He fell to the ground, landing on his knees. His wings fell around him and he looked down, hair hanging in his face.“Carrighan…” Deme approached him and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Why are you running from me? If what you say if true then…”“Then what? Huh?!” He lifted his head and looked at the Angel some emotion in his eyes but it was undecipherable.“Well… we can be like Romeo and Juliet.”Carrighan scoffed. “What? We meet a few times then kill ourselves! That sounds like some great fucking plan, Juliet!”Deme shook his head. “No, I meant in the star crossed lovers way without the whole death thing. We’ll just live our lives together.”“No,” Carrighan tore his gaze from the face of the man he… he loved. “It’s not going to happen.”He stood up and turned to stare at the other one, his eyes in slits.“I will not going down as a fucking Angel lover!! I hate Angels and of all the fucking goody two shoe God loving fuckers I hate you the most!”He was breathing heavily as his eyes opened to their regular size.“No… I don’t hate you” he whispered once he saw the hurt look on the Angel’s face. “But I can’t love you. I can’t; I never should have started this stupid thing. If… If I had just told Lucifer to fuck himself I wouldn’t be in this mess with you. I could be living my life the way I want to not… not depending on love from you! You of all people in this fucking world!”He had backed away.“I… I have to go. Don’t come find me and don’t come after me.”
"Mikey, don't make me do it!"
"My name is Michael, Rafael. Or should I call you Bill?"
Bill's hands shook as he held the gun up. "Mikey, just put the gun down and come with me. Please. I don't want to shoot you."
Michael straightened up, wincing as the pain from the bullet in his side shot through his body. The gun fight with Bill’s partner had left him wounded. But if Michael looked bad, the dead partner looked worse.
"You won't shoot me. You lack the conviction to do it," Michael said with a smirk.
Bill wiped sweat from his brow with his free hand. "Mikey..."
"My name is Michael!"
Bill visibly jumped as the door slammed open. Michael barely turned his head.
"Drop it, blondie!!" Zack yelled, gun raised and aimed at the offender.
Bill, already on edge, spun.
Michael never moved quicker, but as the explosion of the gun filled the room, all he could think about was protecting Zachary. He gasped as the searing hot bullet hit him, a new pain slamming through his body.
"Mikey!" Zack yelled .His gun clattered on the ground as his arms wrapped around Michael’s torso to keep the man from falling. “What did you do, Bill?!”
“Zack I… I didn’t mean to!"
Zack could feel the sticky warmth soaking through his sleeves as he sank to the floor, Michael held against him.
"Mikey, Mikey please..."
Michael's breath was shaky at best and not getting any better.
"Zachary..." he managed.
"No, no, don't talk, Mikey. Bill, call 9-1-1, god damn it! Call for help!"
Michael shook his head as Bill fumbled for his cell phone.
"No, Mikey, don't go, please! God, no!" His voice cracked. Tears were spilling down his cheeks and there was nothing he could do to stop them.
Michael's head fell back against Zack's chest. His skin was pale and his eyes were distant.
For a moment, they focused on Zack’s face and a faint smile formed on his lips. It was quickly gone and replaced with a scowl. "Zachary... you moron..."
His lower lip shuddered as his last breath left him.
"Mikey!" Zack cried, burying his face in the other’s dark brown hair. “You killed him, Bill! You killed Mikey!”
Bill slowly back up, hands raised. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. I didn’t want to hurt him…”
Zack glared at what he thought was his best friend. “I’m going to give you five seconds to get out of here. If you’re still here, then I can’t be held responsible for what I do.”
Bill nodded and was gone.
The week passed like a blur. The funeral was like a movie on mute. Zack barely registered the thirteen year old boy stand by his side, shaking slightly with tears; the older man leaning heavily on his cane, the scar over his eye looking more vicious as no emotion passed on his face.
The black coffin hovering over the hole was a simple black casket. It suited Mikey’s tastes. Zack had seen to that much. The rest of it he left to Kostya.
He ditched out on the wake afterwards. He wasn’t that hungry anyways. And he had other things to do.
It was a short drive to the apartment he knew well. He’d first come here years ago, back in high school when he first met Bill’s older brother, who wasn’t really his brother, just some other agent there for the case. Who then left for college or something like that. The memories were bitter sweet.
He found the door unlocked and entered quietly. Boxes were scattered around, things half thrown in them, half spilt on the floor. Bill had been in a hurry to leave. Had he been trained by any less of a hit man, Zack would have assumed Bill had left already, but he knew better. He’d seen that blonde mop poke out behind a tree at the funeral.
He was still here.
“I’ve been waiting for you.” The voice almost startled Zack. He turned towards it origin and saw a few blonde curls sticking up over the top of a high backed chair.
“I can tell. You didn’t even finish backing, dude.” He was surprised by how flat his voice was. Had he really come that far?
Bill chuckled faintly. It was a sad sound and caused Zack’s heart to ache father.
“I didn’t see the point.”
“Why didn’t you run?”
The curls shook. “You’d come find me. Might as well face it head on.”
Zack took a few steps towards the chair.
“I’m sorry, Zack. I didn’t mean for it to happen that way.”
He froze, fingers wrapped around the cold steel of the gun. “Don’t say that, Bill.”
“But it’s true…”
“I don’t want to hear it!” he barked, a new wave of tears breaking forth. “You killed the man I loved! You’re my best friend! I shouldn’t be… I shouldn’t be here doing this right now. We should be… we should be out skateboarding or something, man!”
The room fell into silence.
Zack shook, trying to pull himself together. He couldn’t afford to get all emotional, that was how mistakes were made. That was what Mikey always said, anyways.
“I killed him,” Bill said in a dead pan. “I killed Michael Dove, one of the best hit men in the world.”
Was his voice shaking? Or was that just Zack’s ear drums?
“My name is going to be everywhere. I’m going to be a hero.”
“I’ll be all over the news, Zack. They’ll praise me!”
“I said shut up!”
“I killed him, Zack!”
There was pain in Bill’s voice. Some part of Zack’s brain picked up on it. Bill wasn’t gloating. He was trying to make it easier on him.
“I shot Michael Dove!”
The quiet hissing of the silencer was the last thing Bill would hear. Zack shook, the gun still aimed at where his best friend’s head had just been. He’d just killed his best friend.
He pulled the gun back and placed it back in its holster.
And... end. I like it. I didn't edit it or anything. Just went with it. *sniffles*“Good bye, Bill.” He turned and left, locking the door behind him.
|found on tumblr|
|again, found on tumblr|
|do I really have to say where I found this one?|
I ran out of paragraphs, so I went into Chapter 7! Obviously!“Hmm… that’s a hard one.” Mrs. Taylor lowered her bowl, scrunching her face in thought. “I would investigate. Find out which was telling me the truth. Sometimes your brain sees only what’s on the surface while your heart tells you what’s on the inside of the problem. Sometimes your brain is right, sometimes your heart is right. Gather all the facts you can, then make a decision.” She nodded then put a spoon of rice in her mouth.Lauren smiled and uncurled her legs. “Then that’s what I’ll do.” She nodded, a new resolve coursing through her. “Can I use the phone to make a long distance call?”“Long distance?” Mrs. Taylor asked, confused. “I guess, sure. Who do you know long distance, though?”“We met a kid while we were on our trip. He gave me his number.”“A he?” The older woman smirked. “Go ahead darling, but don’t forget about Bryan.”“I won’t.” She couldn’t. And depending on the outcome of this call, it could save Bryan’s life.CHAPTER 7Three days passed. Three days of no Bryan at night. Three days of going to the warehouse and not finding Bryan there, either. Three days of no one knowing where Bryan even went during the day, just that he got up before the sun came up and didn’t come home until late.
When I got the rejection slip from AHMM, I pounded a nail into the wall above the Webcor, wrote "Happy Stamps" on the rejection slip, and poked it onto the nail. ... By the time I was fourteen ... the nail on my wall would no longer support the weight of the rejection slips impaled upon it. I replaced the nail with a spike and went on writing.I loved the idea of that nail on the wall for all the rejection notes. I don't know if it was the thought of being able to see them and use them as a drive to keep on it, or the therapeutic aspect of stabbing the rejections on a nail that I liked, still have no idea which one. So I decided that when I got to the point of sending out queries, I would have my own nail.
"I've got a folder full of rejection slips that I keep. Know why? Because those same editors are now calling my agent hoping I'll write a book or novella for them. Things change. A rejection slip today might mean a frantic call to your agent in six months."
Who Talks Like That?