Friday, February 28, 2014

~~Sudbury Writer's Guild--Greetings and News Post~~

Hey, everyone! I loved going to the meeting last night. It was incredibly cool to feel like I belonged, especially in a crowd of adults. I'm so glad you made me feel welcome--special thanks to Lisa, who sent me absolutely everything I missed and filled me in on things; and to Scott, who forced me to talk. I really am glad I felt welcome and that I have a group of people that are willing and able to give me whatever I need in my pursuit of being published. I'm glad I have networking opportunities and people who are way more experienced than I am, and can teach me how to edit/critique things.

I've never been good at editing. Hopefully, you guys will help me learn more.

Okay, now I'm going to stop and talk to my readers in general.






Let us not question things!

Needless to say, that means I have a week to...


--Do formatting in a completely new way

--Create a cover (I've already decided on what it will be, and how)

--Design said cover

--Figure out the price

--Decide how much money I want from the sale

I have news for you.

Every dollar I make from SCRIBBLER (and its accompanying stories) goes to the World Wildlife Fund.

As soon as I figure out how to do that.

If I start needing money myself, I will notify you before starting to take any profit from it. That way, I can say I'm not stealing in any way and it is your choice as to whether or not the money goes to me.

So, why is all of it going to the WWF?

The world is screwed up. We need to help the world. I want to support the world as much as I can, and try and donate every penny. 85% of WWF's money goes right to helping the environment, and I want to support them as much as I can. I know I won't be able to make very much (I doubt I'll sell more than a hundred copies), but if it goes for about four dollars....

Four dollars times a hundred is four hundred dollars.

That is a huge amount of money.

Another thing I might end up doing charity-wise is a volume of poetry focused on the environment. It will go for the same price, and all of its profits will go directly to the WWF. I'm not sure when I'll get around to doing it, but it will certainly be out within the year.

Now, everyone....

I want you to spread the word. I want you to talk about this and get things set up. Help me with this. GET AS MANY PEOPLE TO BUY IT AS POSSIBLE. The more people buy it, the more is donated, the happier I am, and the more I write.

Get it?

Got it?


Let's get to donating, everyone.

I want to help the world.

I love you.

Nikai tibitomaka,

Half-Mad Writer

~~SCRIBBLER: Chapter Three--What It Means to be King~~

Okay, the rest of the two weeks have passed. I figured I might as well skip narrating all of the planning, the shopping, and the confusing conversations as I try to weasel myself out of going to the dance with the boys. But, I might as well say that Adalrik ended up singing Will I to me many times between my convo with Seeder and where I am now, greeting upwards of three hundred people at the front gates, wearing a Gypsy outfit-Fall Freak requires that you wear a costume, and I also happen to have drawn the short straw and I'll be running the fortune teller's booth, which means from seven to eleven I have a job to do-and pretending to act happy. Johnny stands beside me, shifting his feet nervously in Adalrik's Gypsy costume. He wouldn't be running the booth with me, but when a couple wants to get into the party together, they need to be wearing matching costumes so we can take photos. And, no don't ask me why both Adalrik and I have matching couple costumes. Let's just say that, two years back, we got dumped massively, and leave it at that. 

When at last the tide of hundreds fade, many bearing massive bowls and trays of food, I am allowed to go. We walk in and pose in front of a big sign saying Annual Fall Freak-Get Your Freak On!!!  (no, I did not come up with that totally lame sign. It was my little sis Alena who did the signs, remember?) and wince at the massively bright flash of light.

Adalrik passes us tickets at the stand without asking for money, and as we go I glance back and see his own money buying us access. Huh. You gotta love that big brother o' mine.
We walk into my front yard with the sound of Simon and Garfunkel's Sound of Silence blasting at us from the speakers set up at the front door of the house. Johnny walks me over in front of the Pumpkin City, and pulls out a small box. He goes down on one knee, and with his left hand holding my right, he opens it up with all the solemnity required at this occasion, to reveal….
A Ring Pop.
Did I tell you I adored this guy?
I burst out laughing, and lift him to his feet. I give him a tight hug, and out of nowhere bursts a chorus of aaaaahs. I let him go, and turn around, wincing at what I already know I will see: The girls.
"Ah, how cute! The rich loser and the charity case are going to get married!" one of them squeals, blinding us with the flash of her camera. "How many kids are there going to be? Where will the honeymoon be? The Holiday Inn? The wedding, don't tell me, will be in Vegas, won't it? A drive-by? Oh, how romantic!"
I slip my arm tightly around Johnny's swimmer-slim waist, raise my eyebrows, and say "Get a shot of this, Blondie Bear!" and give her the finger.
And, no, I do resist the temptation to stick out my tongue.
But just barely.
The girls squeal, and run off, Blondie Bear's extensions flying off behind her. Johnny laughed, and we started dancing, spinning around in circles to the music. Man, you gotta love not caring.
And then a voice called out: "I would speak with you."
And there's only one person I know who talks like that: Seeder.
I slip out of Johnny's arms, whisper swiftly in his ear that I would be back as soon as I could, and I turned and ran, I entered the City, dodging people and pumpkins alike, following the sound of Seeder's formal voice. I was just turning a corner down an alleyway when a small, warm hand grasped my arm and pulled me into a doorway I had not seen. "We have a small issue, Scribbler. The offspring are getting too close to the truth."
"So that's why you pulled me out of dancing with my boyfriend? So I could get rid of some snotty brats?" I say, hands on my hips, a bit of the anger still flooding my veins.
Seeder nodded, and pursed his lips, his entire face speaking a grim apology. I sigh, and he takes my arm and guides me out of the room, to where a small group of pumpkin people stand, surrounding a small pack of little kids, all around the ages of three to six. I squat in front of them, and say to the biggest kid: "These are not the mutants you're looking for." 
Hey, you gotta try sometimes, right?
And it worked. The kids nod, and push away, running off to find their parents. Seeder nods at me, and gestures with his small hands that I was dismissed.
And off I sprint, off to go find my boyfriend, and finally have some fun.
But, according to what I see when I get there, fun is a long time coming.
Johnny is surrounded by about ten pumpkin people, and they are holding-hilarity mixing with horror right about now-miniature pitch forks. "Hey, hey, hey! Let him go, alright? What did he do to you? The Scribbler commands that you let him go," I tell them, and they obediently step back, allowing me to pass. I walk through the small circle of them to stand by Johnny's side, rather pleased at my ability to control these little people, to find that I had failed: They surrounded me, too.
Oh, crud.
"Seeder, get your butt out here!" I yell, and start stamping my feet, unwilling to break my way through the suddenly-growing crowd of pumpkin people bearing pitch forks.
Seeder walks out calmly, and says to me, "Scribbler, my people are unnatural and will slowly die out, one by one, until we are all gone, unless you make us right. Scribbler, we apologize for threatening you, but we need you to write again. The only way to keep your creations alive, Scribbler, is to keep creating. If you do not wish us to die, then I expect your solemn promise to write every day, and create new worlds for us Pumpkin People to inhabit so we will not be bothered by your people. Will you do that for us?"
I give a nod, and they let me go,
Johnny touches my arm, holding it tight like it was a life saver and he a drowning man in the roughest waters of the ocean, but I simply led him out of the circle, watching with some awe as my creations melted away into the City again, Seeder remaining behind, his chin held high. When I meet his eyes, he kneels to the ground, dropping his forehead until it touches the earthen floor. "Scribbler," he intones, his voice muffled by its proximity to the earth. "I and my people are yours to command, as long as you keep us alive."
I walk forward, and lift him to his feet, astonished by how heavy he was. "You have no need to pay homage to me, Seeder. No need at all. Come, run with me: I've got a promise I need to keep."
He smiles, and the three of us turn and run, jumping and dodging through swarms of people, voices crying out as they see Seeder running gracefully by my side. Adalrik runs beside us for a minute, laughing, before he pulls off to the side and watches us as we scamper up the front steps, covering our ears to the blast of music. Seeder jumps onto my back and I carry him through the door made narrow by the onslaught of people. My mom makes a startled, garbled scream and Andrei jumps six feet into the air at the first actual sight of his living creation, banging his head painfully on the crystal chandelier.
I lead the way up the steps, Johnny trailing behind, Seeder choking me as I jog up the steps. I set Seeder down at the top of the stairs carefully between Johnny and I so the mob trailing after us won't get anywhere near him, and rip open the door to my bedroom. I shoo the couple kissing on my bed out of there, Seeder hiding behind my back, and tell Johnny to remind me to both get a new lock for my bedroom door, and to wash my sheets fifty times or so. I grab my laptop and sit down at my desk chair, and start typing, my heart in my throat. 
In my mind, I see a world, trees rising high, talking squirrels and other creatures bring born, running through the treetops and across branches as easily as a cheetah would the savannah, chasing a fleeing antelope. The words flow, tempered only by the sound of tapping keys, Seeder watching expressionlessly as I create him a world, thousands of his people rising and blinking in the light of the day all around the mansion and its grounds, waiting. Waiting for me to fulfill my promise. 
And then, finally, it is done. I turn to Seeder one last time, and tell him, "Seeder, I'm not certain if what I just did will continue your life. I ain't the one who created you, remember? I just continued the life of your people for a while. I'm sorry, man, but I just ain't sure if I can get Andrei, the boy named for bravery itself, to have the courage to continue your life. It's different for him-he and the others have to see what they make. I can choose to make a whole new world, but they have to live with the things they make. I'll do my best, but I'm not sure if I can."
He nods, and tells me simply, "Alexis, Protector of Man, I could not care less about what happened to me. I could be struck dead this very instant, my mouth still open in a ghastly simile of speech, and I would not care in the least. Alexis, by getting you to do this and have your promise to continue writing every day, even just a few sentences, I have ensured the lives of all of my people. And that's more than what I had ever expected to do with my short life."
A single tear falls from my eyes, and I give him a strong hug, his small arms wrapping around me gently. "I'll do my best, Great King. I'll keep my promise for my entire life."
When I felt his arms slip from me, I pushed back, expecting to see his wise eyes looking back at me, the fatherly hug completed. Instead, all I saw was vacant holes for eyes, nothing glimmering behind it.
Seeder was dead.
I drop my head, and cry over him, Johnny holding me tightly. "Thanks, man," I say, my voice catching in my throat.
"Shall we bury him?" Johnny asks, and I shake my head.
"Let's let his people do that. He died saving their lives; who knew how much of his last days he must have only lived because of his conviction. Every people needs to bury their Kings nobly." I lift Seeder's body up into my arms, and let out a gasp of grief at how terrifyingly light he is now. I remember lifting him to his feet only an hour or so ago, and how I had struggled under his weight. It's like he's empty, as if when he died his soul took every last part of him with it, leaving nothing but an empty shell.
I walk down the stairs, tears drumming on Seeder's chest, people parting around me like a sea. Several pumpkin people come and walk beside me as I leave the house, but they allow me, the Scribbler, to bear the burden of their fallen King,
I walk with them to the gates of their City and follow the pathway of weeping mourners to the center, where maybe twenty pumpkins and about ten humans swarm, erecting a funeral pyre. Adalrik is kneeling beside a weeping Gutsy, and I see Andrei kneeling with her as well, his hand on her shoulder. I lay my burden at the Queen's feet, my head bowed low, paying homage to her just as her husband had done me. He would have wanted me to pay her the respect she was due.
The Queen falls to her knees weeping, Adalrik and Andrei slipping back respectfully to join her people surrounding her, their foreheads touching the earth like mine, paying respect to the fallen King. Just like he would have wanted.
When the pyre is built, I slip to my feet and touch Gutsy's shoulder. "It's time."
She gives a nod, and she, Andrei, Adalrik and I lift the body of the king, walking forward with him between us to lay him down of the pyre. When we reach it, we slowly lay him down on a soft silk blanket that someone had spread there, and step back. Johnny walks towards us, bearing a flaming torch. I take it from his hand and offer it to Gutsy, but she pushes it back at me. I give her hand a squeeze and she walks with me to lay the torch down onto the pyre with her husband's body.
When I reach the pyre, I touch Seeder's cold cheek one last time, before I help Gutsy up to give her husband one last kiss. When I set her down again, I give Adalrik and Andrei one last look, before I set the torch gently down by the feet of the noble King.
"Farewell, Great King. May you rest in peace forever." I intone, and step back as the flames swarm up his body. 
His people raise their heads to the sky, and howl their grief to the pitiless sky as smoke twists and twines its way toward it, human voices melding with it in a harmony of grief. 
When the fire dies, only Adalrik, Gutsy, and I remain, the humans gone back to see what remains of the party, the pumpkins to be alone with their grief.
Breaking the silence as the last coals die, I ask Gutsy one question, and she nods.
And I take a stick and write in the ashes of their King.
When I am done, not even the ashes remain. Gutsy and the others are gone, off to live out their lives in a different world. I have done all I can, and they should be where they belong now, where no one can ever trouble them again.
I finish writing in the dirt one last line: And they all lived happily ever after.
I look up from my writing with a grin, before I turn and go, leaving Adalrik alone by the empty field, staring at the empty forest.
Let me wrap up this little story by saying that I intend to keep my promise, for ever and ever. I am the Scribbler, the Protector of Man, and I am sworn to keep creating until the day I die.
And now, dear reader, read this last line and be happy with who you are and what strengths and weaknesses that you possess, as without them you would not be you.
And this is the final line I shall write in this little autobiography: May I never, ever eat a single piece of pumpkin-related food ever again.
Because you never know, do you?
It's a big world out there, ain't it? And a strange one to boot. 
And it's getting stranger than fiction.

Thursday, February 27, 2014

~~Mask's Fallen Off~~

I've barely managed it.
I've barely managed to ask for help.
I'm taking risks, and seeing
What good comes from admitting I'm weak.

When the sorrow overtakes my face,
And the weakness runs through my veins--
Will anyone know my name?
Will anyone take my place?

I'm losing the fight.
I'm sacrificing the victory
I thought I had....
I thought I had been better.

I'm changing more.
I've removed the mask.
I'm hitting the button
To self-destruct.

I wonder who will watch me fall.
I wonder if anyone
Will hear my call?
I wonder if anyone

Would notice at all?
Would anyone be able to tell
If I gave in to my private hell?
Would the teachers see?

Would my parents see?
Would my friends see?
Would my lovers see?
Would anyone see?

Who would catch me if I fell?
Would anyone save me from hell?
Would anyone protect me
If I said I wasn't well?

My mask's fallen off.
I can't hide anymore.
I'm on territory I can't understand.
I'm walking down a path I can't understand.

I'm losing it all.
I'm losing myself.
I'm trying to maintain control,
But I don't know if you even care at all.


I'm working on hitting the limit.
I'm working on finding the edge.
I'm working on evaluating
All the things I shouldn't be making.

All the little mistakes.
All the little bad ideas.
All the little failures
That I seem to love making.

I'm so totally drained.
I'm so totally lost.
I'm losing it all
At the sound of your voice.

Won't you just tell me
It will be alright?
Won't you just lie to me
And say I'll be just fine?

I'm not going to tell you I'll be fine.
I'm not going to say what I don't believe.
I'm trying to stabilize.
I'm trying to be alive.

A little bit of fear
Is trickling through my veins.
If you knew I was a failure,
Would you laugh at what remains?

What remains of me?
What remains of my heart?
What was damaged?
What was stolen?

Nothing was hurt.
Nothing was taken.
I'm completely fine...
I'm stabilizing.

I'm edging towards the cliff.
I'm wondering if I can fly.
I'm waiting patiently as you hit the switch
Wondering if I can burn.

~~Another Off Day--Life Post~~

Hey, guess what? It happened again. I can't maintain control. I'm sitting crashed in the library until I can stand up from this chair and do some things I haven't done in a while. I'm hiding out and hoping no one bothers me. If I need to, I'll head up and go to guidance. I can safely crash there all day if I need to--and I really hope I don't need to. I'd rather not worry anyone. Then again, everyone's worried about me....

I really don't know what I can do. In case you haven't noticed, I'm so close to breaking--and have been this way for a while--that I no longer know what it means to be well. I'm halfway between sane and insane, and I'm trying to pretend like they are the same thing. When they really aren't.

How are you guys? Are you guys doing any better than I am?

Will I attend ANY classes? I don't know.

I doubt it.

I'll talk to you guys in a bit.

Wednesday, February 26, 2014

~~Ahem, Let's Speed It Up--Notification Post~~

Alright, everyone. On Friday, Chapter Three of Scribbler will be posted onto this lovely little blog. I'm working on a lot of things right now, and I'm realizing that this blog going through these stories for a very long time. And that sounds a bit agonizing for my readers.

So, I'm announcing something.

You can PATIENTLY read through the unedited version of Scribbler and the sequels to it. It will be basically entirely raw. It will be slowly posted, and never feature very much bonus content. It will be done, of course, but it won't be exactly great.

By the way, YES THERE ARE SEQUELS TO SCRIBBLER! It is a whole little series. I'm not 100% sure how long it is, though....And I know I didn't really finish it....But I can actually remember the ending, and how I planned to get there, so we'll be just fine. I've missed that story anyways, and it'd let my head get more wrapped around the idea of publishing Candy-Sweet Faces.

Aaaaand....You can probably guess what I'm going to say, aren't you?

Yep, yep....You are completely right.

The Scribbler and all of its sequels are going to be SOLD.


I have just realized that the Scribbler--and all of its sequels--only have three chapters. Aaaaand all of them are only 20-30 pages.



The entire series will be sold either as a group of edited versions with little to no bonus content--which will include poems and insights on my writing process--or as a complete and total BOOK with each and every story in it.

The overall book that encompasses the Scribbler is known simply as THE TALENTS. That title might change with time, so don't stick with it....

Needless to say, that complete version might take a while to be completed. And, needless to say, the edited versions will probably be longer.

The separate versions of THE TALENTS will be cheaper than the complete version--which makes sense; you're buying multiple stories just to get what the whole version offers. It all depends on what you guys want to buy.

If you intend to BUY Scribbler, STOP READING IT RIGHT NOW. I'm serious. You'll ruin it for yourself later.

In fact, I might even be a tiny bit evil....

And take down the free version of Scribbler a few days after it is published.



Aaaand I'm also going to copyright my blog very soon. I've posted a lot of writing here, and I want it to stay mine. I don't mind if you link it to people, but my writing is my writing. I love you, but I want my writing to stay mine.

If everything goes right, the entirety of Scribbler will be edited BY THIS TIME NEXT WEEK.

And will hit Amazon the week after. Or sooner. Depends on when I can get everything done. I do have school. You know, that thing I go to every day and don't really seem to notice? Yeah! That thing. I do attend that thing. It's an important thing. Let's remember that thing, okay?

Okay, I'm going to start naming these off....

THE WEAVER (Completed)
THE SHADOWER (Completed)
THE ANGEL (Completed)
THE SOUL (Begun)
THE EDITOR (Planned)

Those are seven stories, each around 25 pages long.

Let's do some math...

Twenty five pages multiplied by seven stories is ONE HUNDRED AND SEVENTY FIVE PAGES.

Okay, compared to all of my other writing that is...rather tiny, is it not? It's a lot shorter than everything else! And it might even be a lot longer, depending on how much rewriting/writing I do....

Even so, this will probably be the first thing I publish.

I'm a bit scared.

But it's gonna be good....

Let's speed it up.

~~Depressed? Blame People~~

I'm tired of hearing about it.
Am I a bad friend for wanting you to shut up?
No, I don't think I am.
I really don't think I am.
You complain continually, and drag ME
Into every little problem you have.
Do you think that isn't true?
Go through our conversations, and realize it is.
It's entirely true--
Change your behavior before you realize I'm sick of you.
Figure out for yourself
That I don't really care.
I don't give a damn, whether you swim or sink.
How could you possibly think
I'd care at all if you slipped away?
I'm depressed, so I'll blame it on you.
I'm mad, so you'll blame it on me.
I'm happy, so you'll blame it on therapy--
God knows at least one of us is wrong.
I'm so tired of listening to you.
I know you're tired of listening to me.
Let's turn blind eyes and ears
To each other's problems--
It's time we walk away
For good.

~~I'll Try the Happy~~

You've probably noticed by this stage
That I have no idea how to believe
In the little thing known as happiness.
(I've always given up on true love.)

You've never really believed;
Don't ask me how I know.
You've always kept little doubts
Where I can never find them.

I'll try for the happy, though.
I'll give up on everything else.
I'll focus on what might be
The good thing for me....

I'll try for the happy
If you keep me from the sorrow.
I'll attend therapy,
And work on my grades.

I'll write and tell stories.
I'll share with you my dreams.
I'll try for the happy
If you keep loving me.

Maybe one day I can find
Out how to live with the memories.
Maybe one day I can find
Just how to give up on the memories.

I can let go of my entire soul
And find myself again--
Just tell me it will be fine.
Just tell me I won't lose this rhyme.

I'll lose it all, and regain it.
I'll destroy it, and maintain it.
I'll erase it, and rewrite it.
I'll do what I need.

I'll find out my peace.
I'll find out my joy.
Let me undo these mistakes....
Draw a path for me to follow.

Extend your hand to me, the Half-Mad Writer.
To the twisted little girl who can't believe she's alive.
Extend your hand to me, my lover:
I will promise I will never dive

Off of that cliff.
I will stay, and hang on.
I'll try for the happy.
I'll see if I can make it....

I'll dance for you tonight.
Do you want me to dance?
Do you want me to sing?
Do you want me to love? (I already love you....)

~~Survivable Dissonance~~

Undo my belief system, good sir.
Poke holes in the reality I force upon the sun.
Allow in the light, and see what remains
After you've walked right through the sealed door.

You tear open the curtains, to find a brick wall.
You don't seem to realize that you're the only one.
I'm standing here, still completely still.
You don't realize I'm a dying statue.

I'm a shattered little angel,
Shivering in the freezing cold air--
You let in the chill when you broke me.
You ended my world when you opened my door.

I'll survive, just as I always have, locked in my cell.
I'll dance, just as I always have, deaf in the din.
I'll love, just as I always have, sealed behind my wall.
You won't survive the dissonance as I leave you behind.

You always try to watch me as I leave you behind.
You always try to believe me as I say I love you.
I won't survive the dissonance as you break down
The diamond wall, and let in my shattered soul.

You slipped into my broken reality.
You tried to get into my heart.
You pretended like I was broken.
You said you'd put me back together.

I've always been whole.
I've always been real.
I've never been alone.
I've never been hurt.

I never survived the dissonance.
I never survived at all.
I never pretended I was less--
I always pretended I am more.

How else could I have lived
Through every little pain?
I could only have lived
If I was dead the whole time....

I am whole, and wholly wrong.
I am wrong, and entirely right.
I can survive the dissonance
As you force me into the light.

Forgive me for my sins.
I'll protect you from the din.
I'll keep you safe
As you let in the light....

I don't understand love, and I don't think I ever did.
But I can try for you. Will you try for me?
I don't understand how you can hear me scream
Over the sound of reality breaking through to me....

I'm sliding beyond the diamond wall.
Will this be the last time I lie and fall?
Will this be the last time I cry out for you?
Will I survive the dissonance?

~~HER: Chapter Eight--Sweet~~

--Jamie's POV—

I was back with Nick. I'd missed him, in a way. Not the sex, not the faking, not the constant lies, but I'd missed—him. He was funny and intelligent, and his library and his books and smiles and scent of coffee and old wood and flowers. Nick was sweet and careful, always wanting to please, and he adored me. I was sweet to him, and innocent, and I always faked being easily frightened. I was his sweet, sweet Jamie, young and innocent. He was three years my senior, but he never treated me like a child—he simply treated me as something to be treasured, watched over, held and gentled.

Nick smiles, making me my coffee exactly the way I liked it—double-double with a single shot of orange extract and strawberries on the side. I was sitting curled in a pair of his old pajama bottoms, hair wet from a shower, blinking sleepily. "Oh, Nick!" I cried, hurling myself at the drink, while he laughed and held it carefully so it didn't spill.

"You've been a while without it, haven't you?" Nick asks, and I wonder at his meaning, but I play dumb and simply say that it had been a few days since my last cup of coffee.

Nick smiles again, shaking his head, and murmuring to himself, "Ah….So sweet. How could anyone deserve something so sweet?"

I merely sip at my coffee, closing my eyes and sighing. Nick curls up beside me with his black coffee, his eyes filled with wonder as I sip and smile, sweet and innocent.

I smile at him, biting my lower lip in the old way—something that had never failed to make Nick smile, and treat me tenderly and carefully, as if I was something that could be broken easily. He slings an arm around my shoulders carefully, pulling my against his side gently, setting down his still full cup and resting his other hand on my thigh. I drink the last of my coffee and he takes it from my hand and sets it down, before I nestle against him and shut my eyes, pretending to sleep. I hear him sigh, and feel his hand in my hair.

I just let him hold me, hiding my fear and my disgust.

And my shame.

--Nick's POV—

This boy lies well.

I eye him, my eyebrows raised, wondering, What does he need from me? What would make him desperate enough to put himself through this? I only take him to my bed because he begs for it—otherwise I would refuse to make him go through it.

I trace a line down his bare shoulder with a single finger, and I smile when he sighs. I didn't care that everything he did was a lie—it was a good enough lie that I needed it every moment. I breathed, watching how it shifts his dark black hair. He shivers, and I pause, before lightly kissing him on top of the head and closing my eyes, drifting into sleep.

Coffee be damned, I was with the boy I loved, and that was all that mattered.

Who cares if he didn't love me back?

--Her's POV—

Nicky Boy.

I'd actually rather missed him and Jamie's exploits. It amazed me how little torture, how little sweet torment, it had taken me to send Jamie running into the arms of a man who had lifted him from where he had been weeping at the corner, bruised and bloody from a brawl, and had taken him home and tended to his wounds, without even asking for his name until the next morning.

Nick was someone I couldn't torture, someone like Ann, who I merely disgusted instead of tortured. He would take more to end, more to murder, more to drive mad.

Nicky Boy was someone I could have fun with….

Jamie and Logan were easy—a whisper, a touch, a laugh, and they were trembling, tortured. Ann was strong and stubborn—she would take a lot from me before I could even harm her. And she had no heart as well—I couldn't even harm her by going after people she supposedly loved.

But Nicky Boy? He loved Jamie, his sweet, sweet Jamie—and Jamie didn't love him back. At least, not in the way Nick loved him. And Nicky Boy? Oh, he knew it. You could see it in his eyes and the set of his face—this was hurting him like nothing I could ever inflict.

But he was…special. I knew the ways to torture and torment him—tell him the words that were going through Jamie's mind. The pleading cries for him to stop, to end it, to go and leave him alone. And, oh, how Jamie hated him…. I would tremble and laugh at the tortured swirl of emotions in the room when those two were together in bed! I adored standing there, watching them pretend, watching them lie. And those two were exceptional liars—but not good enough for the truth to be there between them, seen but unseen, known but unknown.

So how else could I hurt Nicky Boy, other than telling him the truth?

I could make him remember.

He was there that night.

He had not yet known Jamie, not yet loved him, but yet they had been together. Oh, there are many things that night that Jamie did not remember….I laughed aloud, because I remembered them all.

Nick and I had been great friends once. We couldn't have been closer—he knew about every aspect of my life, including Jamie and Logan, but yet I had never allowed him to meet them. I knew he would fall for Jamie—and that Jamie would break his heart. But this? This torture that Jamie inflicted on him? I could never have expected this. But now that it had happened….

How perfect it was!

Jamie was destroying Nicky Boy—and there wasn't a thing I had to do about it!

But did Nick know it was my Jamie he took to his bed?

Yes. He knew. Nick was smart—he figured it out even before I came to him and whispered in his ear.

So I smiled to myself and let the boys, the lovers, torment each other more than I ever could.

And then I decide to go, and visit Logan. Remaining here wasn't worth my time—Nicky Boy was fun to hurt, but yet I needed to kill, and Logan was just crying out for his life to end.

Was it time to make him join me in Eternity?

Not yet….

But there were others that I could kill.

And maybe, just maybe, Logan would die if I drove him to it myself or not….

The death of your entire family tends to destroy you.

--Logan's POV—

They were not dead.

That was the only thing I could ask for.

That, and new something to destroy.

I couldn't very well destroy Stacy's furniture and walls, now could I? No matter how much I wanted to turn those pink walls red, and end see how easily I could shatter her fragile and dainty furniture.

There was one thing that surprised me, though: The neighbors hadn't called the cops yet.

I'd been sprinting around the apartment, swearing and calling Her to me, daring Her to come and end my life, singing Where's My Angel by Metro Station again and again.

Jamie rose to my mind, and my teeth clench. Where was he? my mind screams. Is he alive? Is he okay? I swear and scream, my muscles clenching, my eyes dark.

I needed him! I had abandoned him, my best friend! If he died, it was my fault! I had abandoned him to Her! I had left him alone!

I dialed his cell.

He answers, and I hear him speaking to someone named Nick apologetically as he excuses himself, before he greets me. "Logan, hey."

"You're alive." I say simply.

"So are you." Jamie replies, both of us looking for ways to say the words we needed to say.

Bur we didn't.

We sat there, and talk about how we were surviving—Jamie explaining to me how he was spending his nights with Nick, and I told him about how I was staying with Stacy, sitting alone in silence and trying not to destroy her apartment while she was gone.

He laughed at that, and we didn't talk about what he was going through by staying with Nick. Some things you never share, but you just understand.

Which one of us had it worse?

I didn't care.

But then She came, and I said swiftly the two words he had been expecting to hear ever since he had seen my name appear when the call came, "She's here."

I hung up, cutting him off in the middle of wishing me luck.

I didn't want to hear it.

She brushed against me, whispering in my ear, telling me hello.

And for an instant I forgot Stacy, forgot Jamie, forgot Ann. Forgot and let go of everything but Her.

And an instant stretched into hours, and hours stretched into the night, and Stacy did not come home.

It wasn't until evening the next day that the knock came at the door, and the policeman stepped in and told me that Stacy was dead while She just stood there beside me, laughing at the expression of horror and grief and guilt, guilt most of all, that flickered across my face.

Stacy was dead.

--Her's POV—

I just stood there and laughed.

Stacy was dead….

Logan had kissed me, held me, wept in my arms as the girl who loved him more than anything else bled out in an alleyway, disemboweled and her throat slit, just as any whore deserved.

Oh, it had been so easy to manifest myself, to cause that rotten little bum to hate the skinny-hipped little hooker-dressed businesswoman. To want revenge on the spoiled little rich girl. A few choice words and sensations, and he was just itching to get that nice switchblade of his buried oh-so-deep in her honeysweet skin.

I knew the effect this would have on poor Logan—oh how mad he would be driven!

How slowly I would let him drown in his agony—I would make him live for oh-so-long, laughing every second as he loses his mind until finally he leaps from the balcony, committing suicide, and becoming finally mine. Finally mine! Mine for all eternity….

Whether he loved me or not.

~~I Don't Do Happy Poems~~

I don't try for the cheerful, inane, and meaningless.
I don't try for the profound celebration of a faked grin.
I don't try for the attempted meaning behind a laugh--
I show what I feel, and not what you want me to feel.

I show the 'attempted suicide'.
I show the 'shattered mind'.
I show the 'draining away'.
I show the 'undone reality'.

I don't do happy poems, and you don't want me to.
You want me to celebrate the insanity,
And that's what I will do for you.
I will show you whatever you want to see.

I'll never hide myself, as long as you stay mine.
I'll tell you my broken story through chapped lips,
And let stiffened fingers dance upon your eyes.
I'll make marks, night-black, upon snowy screens.

I'll show you everything I should never hide.
I'll always show you my empty world.
I'll make you believe you are mine.
I will be your broken little girl.

Just never expect what i'll never give to you.
Never expect the good side, the silver lining:
I don't share my celebrations and meaningless motivations
With the likes of strangers like you.

I don't do happy poems.
I don't do faked joy.
I don't reveal my dreams--
I just show my nightmares.

My broken girlish laugh
Will be all you ever hear.
I'll be your twisted dancer
Upon the computer screen.

Let me whisper in your ear:
I'll tell you what you can't hear.
I'll tell you every little secret,
And make you wish you didn't know.

I don't do happy poems.
I do celebrations of my sickness:
I dance in the starlight,
Whispering farewells to your light.

I don't do happy poems.
I do the good and the true.
I'll whisper every little secret,
So you know you're better off than me!

I'll help you, if I can.
I'll write every word to find the one that's true.
I don't do happy poems--
I do the ones you need to read.

Tuesday, February 25, 2014

~~I'm Plural~~

A thousand voices slipping through my mind
Couldn't even match the din I hear.
Ten voices whispering through my soul--
Ten pieces of what should be whole.

Why were they made?
Why am I lost in the shade?
Memory skips years at a time--
My mood swings on a dime.

I'm losing moments bit by bit.
I can barely hear, so scream a bit.
I'm losing myself in the din of others,
And it's making me shudder.

I'm losing the control i once had.
A Madness to test and to make me glad.
Glad I can beat her,
And that I've kept it together.

So what if it's real?
So what if it's fake?
It doesn't matter tonight.
All I can do is feel.

~~Halfway Twisted~~

Simpler things were never done.
Simpler things were never spoken.
Simpler things were never understood.
Simpler things were never dreamed.

I am more and I am less.
I am hope and I am hopeless.
I am full and I am empty.
I am insane and I am crazy.

I am sliding down.
I am climbing up.
I am turning around.
I am running away.

I am closing the door.
I am climbing the hill.
I am breaking the wall.
I am sealing the letter.

I am painting my mind on a silver feather.
I am scribbling my mind on a single letter.
I am draining my mind on a shining night.
I am losing my mind on a broken night.

I don't see why you believe in me.
I don't see why you understood me.
I don't see why you remade me.
I don't see why you betrayed me.

Stop loving the hated.
Stop hating the loved.
Stop trusting the untrustworthy--
I'll be the one you can believe in.

I'm losing control, a bit at a time.
I'm draining the ocean, and looking for the hole.
I'm wondering if I have a soul.
I'm claiming myself, and realizing what you stole.

Barely rhythmic, let me hold you.
Barely substantial, let me take you.
Barely alive, let me love you.
Barely sane, let me keep you.

I'm losing it all at the sound of your name.
I'm twisting away, just to win the game.
I'm making you the final promise:
I will never be more than halfway twisted.

~~If You Could See My Face~~

If you could see my face
You'd see how broken I was.
You'd see how much
I have been drained.

From angry goodbyes
To anxious hello's--
You'd see how much
I prefer the former.

I'm tired of pretending to hide it.
I'm tired of saying it is fine.
It hasn't been fine for years now.
Now go and see the point where things had changed.

See the point where it tipped
Over the edge.
See the point where it got worse.
See the point where the first lie was told.

Go back through the past,
Until you can see
How bad things got
For me.

~~I Swore to Let You Go~~

I made a mistake by falling in love.
I've always done things
I can't change.
I can't hide this time.

There's no goodbyes
That can be spoken--
No second choice
That can be made.

Would you listen
If I tried to explain?
Would you be mad at me
If I apologized too much?

I can't even breathe today.
Nothing feels right.
I'll pick up the pieces
Of myself.

But for now....
Let me fall apart.
Let me fall asleep.
Let me love you.

I swore to let you go.
I swore to turn away.
I swore to swear off love.
I swore to try harder.

At the same time, I said I'd never go.
I said I'd always stay.
I made millions of little promises.
I said countless things.

Little promises and pledges.
Little moments and goodbyes.
Little instants, little seconds....
Little trembling farewells.

~~Help Me--Or Don't~~

Help me, I'm sliding.
Help me, I'm falling.
Help me, please:
I'm dying for you.

You demanded a sacrifice.
You demanded my heart.
I gave it to you--
I gave you a running start.

You left me behind.
I thought we were real--
But you never seemed
To see me in your mind.

You never seemed to care.
I traded you everything I had,
And all you gave back
Were the promises you broke.

You turned right around
And left the town.
You never pretended
That you were anything better than this.

You were twisted.
You were wrong.
You were shattered--
I thought you were strong.

You were weaker than me.
A thousand times less.
I was a thousand times more--
But I was nothing.

I am still nothing
In your eyes.
I don't feature at all
In the painting of your mind.

Help me understand
What I gave to you--
Help me believe
You were true.

I'm sorry for it all.
I'm sorry, but I'm not--
I never planned on
Making you leave me.

I thought I was more.
I thought you were different.
I guess I was wrong.
But now everything is wrong.

~~Regaining Wings~~

How do I fly when I've walked
This exact same path
For my entire journey?
How do I fly when I don't know how?

My wings were robbed from my back.
My heart was shattered and torn.
My body was beaten and abused.
My mind was splintered apart.

My soul was shaken.
I was unmade--
How do I fly
When I can't breathe?

How do I regain my wings
Without you teaching me
How to jump off the cliff--
And never let myself down?

How do I fly
Without you throwing me up?
How do I live
Without you helping me stand?

I've never been fine.
I've never been alright.
I've never been well.
So how do I fly?

What happened to my wings?
When did I lose my reason?
When did I lose myself?
When did it stop making sense?

How do I regain my wings
When I don't even know
If I lost them, or not?
If I lost them, did I give them away?

What part of me did I trade
For the love that has destroyed me?
How many times
Have I wished for love?

How many times
Has that wish been answered?
It's been answered too many times.
Each answer's cost is a single feather

From the wings
I gave away.
Each love's cost
is a single angel feather.

~~Undone Depression~~

I'm never good enough.
I never get this right.
I never play the game--
You say I'm perfect, but I'm not.

I've been undone.
I've been untwisted and untwined.
My mind's been unmade.
My life has been erased.

It's easing away from me.
It's telling me it's done.
It's making it seem
Like you were the only one.

I'm not going to explain.
I'm not going to try.
I'm going to slip away.
I'm going to die.

I can't do this now.
I can't make it out.
My mind has been erased.
My soul has been undone.

I can't understand the world.
I can't understand myself.
I'm trying to explain--
But you won't hear me out.

A rhythm's pounding through my veins.
A song's tempo is racing me.
It's raising me to a higher pitch:
When will it drop me?

I'm drawing myself in your arms.
I'm imagining I was there.
I'm forgetting it was alright.
I'm forgetting it was okay.

I'm forging onward.
Trying to breathe.
I'm moving forward.
Trying to believe....

Will you

~~So Very Torn--Life Post~~

NOTE--I am very sorry the chapter of For Love of Minecraftia was late. I was away.

What the hell do I do, my lovely readers?

Where do I go from this point forward? Hell, can I do ANYTHING? I know you won't be able to understand. I do know you won't be able to forgive me. I'm sorry! I swear i didn't...mean for this to happen. I just wanted someone to be happy. I didn't care if it was me. I just couldn't say no. I couldn't walk away. I couldn't go back to being alone. I couldn't turn away from someone who might be able to get at least some of this numbness away from me. I can't breathe. I can't believe I've done this. I can't believe I messed up this badly.

I am so sorry. Everyone that knows Justin....I'm sorry. I don't expect you guys to forgive me for what I need to do. Or what I...might need to do.

I'm going to give everyone some backstory.

On December 25th, 2013, my online older brother Shawn and I started dating. We were up talking until almost five am. Stepha almost hit on him using her Chatango profile (Childishdreamer1881) and I mentioned that to Shawn. We promptly friend-zoned each other, because neither of us were entirely sure we could do this. Not too long later, we ended up deciding we really might as well and started dating. I have never had a single regret since.

Of course, Shawn and I had been friends for around three years. Okay. More like four. I can't even remember how long we've known each other. He'd been my big brother for a long time.

Seeing as this is ME, there were a lot of difficulties when we first started dating. A lot of hardships and decisions that had to be made. I worried a lot. Got stressed a lot. I can't exactly discuss these issues with you, though--and I'm sure you can understand why. Some secrets need to be kept, and I was sworn to secrecy. (No. I am not in danger. No. I have not broken the law. No. I was not hurt.)

And then I...fell in love with Justin.

When we first met, I'd known that Justin and I definitely had chemistry. I knew that there was a huge change of something major happening.

But I also knew I wasn't quite ready for it.

I haven't felt/understood love for a very long time. I haven't known what it's like, or what to do about it if it shows up. I can't believe in it. I can't go through it. I keep getting hurt, and I don't want to be hurt ever again. I feel like I'm losing myself. Hell, I HAVE lost myself. I don't understand anything!

I can't do this anymore.

I'm sick and tired and upset.

My world is hurting me.

So, Shawn showed up on Friday night. Meeting him was pretty amazing, actually. My family and I went out to a comedy stand-up show, and Shawn--who had started HITCH HIKING at noon--texted me ten minutes into it saying he'd showed up at a Tim Horton's and was now lost. Instead of letting him try and make it all the way home, we insisted he waited at that Tim Horton's.


And then it was the longest ride to the Tim Horton's I've ever taken. And guess what.


Another twenty minutes.

I arrive at the right Tim Horton's. There's a guy wearing a black trench coat, a hat pulled over his face, and a scarf covering the other half. He has a large black backpack and a walking stick that bears a close resemblance to a wooden sword.

It's late at night. It's cold. It's dark.

He looks EXACTLY like the kind of person you don't want to meet in a dark alleyway.

So, I open the door and jump out.

I run into his arms, hug him tightly, and almost knock him over.

And guess what?


I had...the best and most confusing time with him.

Of course, he promptly went through my phone that same night and realized I was dating Justin--and had been planning to break up with Shawn FOR Justin.



I feel like a huge bitch. I AM a huge bitch. I really shouldn't have done any of that.

Shawn hitch hiked for eight hours just to find out his girlfriend was cheating on him.

Gah. I'm never going to forgive myself for this one, and I shouldn't. It isn't fair to anyone. I'm a spoiled brat. I crave attention. I'm a damned idiot!

I'm a freaking BAKA.

So many other things happened during this visit with Shawn. Things both good, and bad. He gave me an awesome teddy bear. We watched a lot of YouTube videos and started playing Wizardry Online. (I might end up adding my character name to my Contact page. Which I only just realized I didn't have. Thanks for mentioning it, person who nominated me for the Liebster Award! I'll accept that award tonight.)

I love Shawn.

I love Justin.

I'm confused, people.

It'd be wrong to ask for advice....I'm so sorry.

I am so very sorry.

Shawn is leaving this morning. He might have already begun hitch-hiking back home.

He met all of my friends and he seems to like all of them. I'm really glad they like him, too.

I am so very sorry.

I'm...going to try and figure out what to do. If Shawn, when he visits next, finds ANY evidence of me cheating--he will walk and never return. I don't want to take that chance.

I will try and post more again. I'm sorry I was gone so long, everyone....

I'm sorry.

Nikai tibitomaka,

Half-Mad Writer

PS: Justin, I'm sorry you had to find out this way....I'm sorry for everything....

~~FLOM: Chapter Fourteen--Gentlemen Aren't Nice~~

I looked around me, seeing nothing. The stone room where I stood was not of my creation, nor did I remember telling anyone to create such a stale and empty room. Besides, what was that weird….


It was a soft brown color spotted with bright, bright yellow and almost-white. It was a beautiful sight, to see a light so bright….

I smiled softly, and walked towards the stone. There was a single block of it in each and every corner of the room, simply sitting on the floor like they had always been there. Oh god, I had never seen it before….I fell to my knees beside the gentle glow, and smiled. Before I knew it, I was crying. What a beautiful thing….To feel so free, like you're flying….All because the darkness was gone and replaced with this glimmering, shining warmth…..Like a halo from an angel's head, I just knew glowstone would never stop it's gently bright glow.

I smiled to myself, closing my eyes now. I loved this place…..

For a while, I didn't care where I was. There was warmth to the glow, and so much caring….All the feelings my mother had never given me were here, in that simple stone.

Eventually, though, my stomach rumbling caused me to clamber to my feet once more, and begin to more seriously consider my plight.

It was impossible to tell really where I was—I couldn't make out any really discerning features around the room. spotting a door a few meters away from where I had spent a while curled up, I decided it was my best shot at getting out of here.

I went over to it, and opened it without issue. Just as I was walking forward, I ran into something: A solid black block.

It was obsidian. And obsidian cannot be broken by just punching at it repeatedly, which was the only thing I would be capable off unless I found a pickaxe through obscure and magical means.

Shaking my head, I looked around. There was a long hallway in both directions, and I could spy a lot more of these blocks in front of the doors lining it. Swallowing, I tentatively yelled, "Hello? I….I need some food."

There was, of course, no answer.

Okay, so this is the point where my patience decides it's time to quit and lets my natural Mitchie-ness take over. I climb up over the block, managing with more than a bit of difficulty to get out of my room and promptly fall flat on my face on the floor. Okay, ow. That was not one of the best plans I ever had….

Sighing, I climbed to my feet. I really didn't recognize this place—it went on forever and it never changed. Door with a block, three blocks of space, door with a block, three blocks of space….

Dear god it was incredibly depressing to stand here….And it especially didn't help that everything was made out of the same stone as in the rooms. Hell, the only interesting things in sight was the beautiful glowstone.

Biting my lip, I went to the first door to my right. I climbed on the block, and started punching the door until it broke and popped into a little rectangle block. Trembling and not knowing what to expect, I lay down on my belly and stared into the room.

Pedobear looked at me.


Faster than I could believe possible, I popped the door back in place and ran down the hall.

I was around halfway down the hall when a very familiar voice popped into my mind, saying softly, "Mitchie, I'm five rooms down from you. Please hurry! He's hurting me."

It was Slenderman's voice.

My eyes shooting wide, I burst into a sprint and came to the right room in only a few seconds. I leapt onto the block and pounded at the door, jumping in guns ablazing. Okay, I would have if I had guns, but you catch my drift reader.

Swearing, I looked around the room, in one of those cool Kung-Fu poses. You know, the one leg raised pose with your arms out in front of you. Of course, coming from a short girl in a hoodie and loose jeans, it looks more like I'm a flamingo on bath salts that found its way into a clothesline in a trailer park somewhere…..But, hey, it's the sound that counts right? Right?

Naturally, the white eyed demon that stood laughing across the room didn't seem to share the same thought. He just stared at the absurd human that had wandered into his domain and started to laugh uproariously. "So you did come here to save your demonic lover!"

It was Herobrine.


Of course.

It was him.

I facepalmed. At this point, what COULD I do but hit myself in the face with my hand? I had fallen right into his trap—just like he knew I would….

I couldn't stand this idiot any more.

I didn't even really know what he wanted. Other than, of course, my hand in marriage. Which I had full intentions of never giving him.

I did the best thing I could think of at the time: I gave the bastard a piece of my mind, held out both my hands in fists with the backs toward him, and shot him a dual middle finger salute.

I regretted it approximately two and a half seconds later, when I saw him pull something very, very casually out from beneath the bed: A piece of suit.

He did have my Slendy…..

It took me less than three seconds to flip the fuck out and jump at him. He had touched him! He had injured and taken from my Slenderman a part of his precious suit!

He would never, ever be forgiven for that….

Knowing I had no choice but to kill him at last, my hands went for his throat, feeling oddly glad he wasn't block shaped like he had been before. As my hands closed around his throat, I suddenly realized how cute he was and how soulful and sad his pure white eyes actually were. I had never realized it, but that snow whiteness was beautiful….

I let go of him. I couldn't bring myself to hurt someone that hot…..So very beautiful…..

Trembling, I lowered my head and practically begged, "Please, please forgive me…."

He nodded slowly and stood up, extending his hand to me. I took it. He used it to pull me close, and his other hand took my chin and angled my head up so he could claim my lips as his. Right before his lips met mine, I thought to myself: Finally…..

He tasted of smoke.

Normally, I hated the taste of smoke, but on his lips it was so much better than chocolate….I wanted more. I kissed him again and again, each kiss getting more insistent. Each moment getting more needful. After a few moments that felt like eternities of pure happiness, he broke the kiss with an echoing laugh, and said very simply, "You may have a lot more later, little one. First, you need to do something for me. It will not take a lot of work, just [omitted] blocks of [omitted]."

NOTE: Obviously, I think I'll not include the recipe for what follows. I don't want anything like this to ever happen again….Suffice to say, it's not entirely anything you're likely to guess on your own, so it's safe to include a little description after wards instead of just omitting a good deal of the following section of the story. And of course, Mitchie has been rather successfully brainwashed….Not like she had that much brains to wash in the beginning. END OF NOTE.

I nodded to him happily. "Of course I'll get those for you! Do you need anything else, my love?"

He nodded slowly. "Just a few drops of blood from a [omitted]."

"I can definitely get that for you. Where should I be able to find any of these things?"

"Just follow me. I'll show you everything you need to see."

I nodded happily, practically dancing by his side as he walks oh-so-casually over to the obsidian block and pulls out a diamond pickaxe. He hits the block a few times, and then it's gone, becoming nothing more than a shadow of its former size and shape. I stare at him in wonderment—diamond pickaxes were not at all easy to get. Diamond was so hard to find! I had never seen one in person before….

Biting my lip, I asked him shyly, "I've never seen one of those before…Can I look at it?"

He turned and looked over at me. "You want to see my pickaxe, Mitchie? You shouldn't—this one is in pretty rough shape and the one I have waiting to give to you so you can build for me is in much better shape than this one."

"You're giving me a diamond pickaxe?" I stared at him open mouthed. It was an unbelievable gift, better than even the gold locket James had given me!

I smiled so widely that he shook his head, as if expecting me to break my face in two before he just pulled me tightly into his chest for a hug. "You're so beautiful when you smile like that, Mitchie Rich….."

I shook my head. "Thank you so much!" I hugged him all the tighter, and he once again moved me so he could sink his lips into mine.

NOTE: Okayyyyyy…..Yes, spellcheck, yes I DID use four extra 'y's on the word 'okay'. Yes that was intentional. I just really needed to interject something here because this is getting all the more fucked up with every last thing that happens….Please, Herobrine, stop kissing her!!!!!! STOP KISSING HER NOW! END OF NOTE.

He kissed me for a very, very long time. When he finally broke the kiss, it was only to grin down at me and murmur very softly, "You are so cute, little one. Now, let's keeping going. I have a lot of things I need you to do—making this for me is only the start…."

I nodded to him. "Anything for you, my love!"

Shaking his head, Herobrine just kissed me once and pulled me down the hall with him. I have no idea how long we walked, but eventually we found ourselves outside a rather nice room. It was well furnished with plenty of bookshelves, and tables fashioned out of fence posts and pressure plates. It really was a nice setup they had. Smiling, I wandered into the room. Herobrine watched me with a smile on his face, clearly enjoying how I was reacting to his home.

"Is this what you wanted to show me, love?" I asked curiously after a few moments of wandering, "I can't find any of the things you said you needed though."

He walks up behind me and chuckles, sliding his arms around me. He kisses my neck and says quietly into my ear, "That's because you need to find my secret lair, little one."

I pouted, turning around so I could direct the full power of my puppy dog pout at him. He wasn't going to make this easy for me? Aw, okay….that was fine, I'd be able to find what he wanted me to.

Feeling a bit of my old resolve trickle in, I prepared to look.

I went to the closest path between bookshelves. I poked and prodded at everything I could think of, even fiddling with the books themselves, but I found nothing at all in them. And I was pretty sure I could hear him laughing softly to himself, somewhere in the stacks….

I decided it wasn't worth getting mad at him for laughing at me. I had to be pretty funny right now—some simple human girl who had fallen in love with him just a she was in the process of attempting to kill him….

That's when the reality of what was going on hit me like a ton of bricks.

I had been brainwashed.