Sunday, November 27, 2011


"Mum, look just please come home. I'm just, I don't want to be alone."
"Honey, you know me and your father rarely go out and we we-" I heard my mothers voice through the phone and cut her off.
"Yes I know you and went out, John went out too, just, please."
"You're such a wuss Micheal"
"No! I'm not a wuss, I can't even believe you would say that, ugh" I gave up, and I felt like I was being watched again. "Okay, just forget it." I whirled around, nothing there. Again.
I stood staring, breathing heavily. My mother's voice again "Micheal, are you there?"
"Yeah, Yeah, no I'm here." I pause to take a deep breath, "Yeah, just, fine. Forget it, I'll go to bed." What's breathing on my neck?.
"Yeah, cool, Thanks for nothing." I hang up with a beep. And place the phone on the table.

Tuesday, November 22, 2011

Wizard of Oz parody idea

So, after I finished my maths exam today, I had an idea for a Wizard of Oz, parody, twist thing. And anyone who has the luck of looking at the back page might have a bit of an idea what it is.

Or just read this.

To sum it up, It's a dystopian world, set in an urban environment, crime rules, etc etc.
Tin Man is an old man, and he's not called tin man, he's called Charles, or some such name. He's Tin man because he's semi-homeless and collects tin cans for a living, he needs a "heart" because he's lost all hope.
Scarecrow is a assassin for hire, but he's headstrong, and always picking fights, rushing into things without, you guessed it, thinking. And that's how he needs a brain.
"Lion" is a teenage boy, and that's his nickname, because he's always so scared. With good reason, his family was killed by mobsters in a drive by shooting. At some point, he kills a lion. And gets his courage. and wears the tail. It's all sketchy at the moment.

As for Dorothy, I'm undecided, either a young girl who has lost her way. Or a Teenage/Young Adult girl who has also lost her way, and is, a prostitute. But keeps her spirits up.

I have no idea who the wizard would be, or why this unlikely band of compatriots would band together to go to him.

It's all in development, but I like it.

oh, and Todo would be a big dog. Not a small one.

Just some thoughts, Tyler.

Saturday, November 5, 2011

Mind Games

I was here again. It didn't matter where here was. Just that it existed and that it was where I was. I knew three things, as follows: I was here. There was a house here. The cat is also here. And it's in that we all have in common. I start walking toward the house. The cat follows me. It is black. But everything is black. Or white. The cat stays in my shadow, cast by some invisible light source that must also be here. Everything is silent.

The house looms above me. Stretching to become a roof, moving around me to make walls, and suddenly I am inside. This is not odd. There is a scratching at the door. It's the cat, it's always the cat. I move to open it, a sense of dread building in me. What if this time, it's not the cat? What if this time it's a monster, a beast with tentacles or a masked man. Come to take me away or gobble me up. In my head, horror music plays.

I open the door. It's the cat. I was being stupid, it's always the cat. We turn and walk up the stairs, the colors get darker, somehow in the monochrome world. This is also not odd.  We are in a corridor, there are doors. There are nothing but doors. All around me. I am no longer in the house. But I am still here.

I open a door, at 7'clock to me. It's the same, a room with a box. I dare not open the box though. I did that once. It was.. unpleasant. the memories are faded. I take another door, one I haven't before. It's red suddenly. Why is it red? It's never been red. I collapse in anxiety. This should not happen. This has happened before. Something always changes, I never remember what, only that it changes. Perhaps it's been red before, and this situation has played out exactly the same. How pointless. I center myself on this thought and stand. The cat watches me. It's never not watching me. I don't think I've seen the back of it's head.

I open the red door. And fall through. I am falling, then I stop. Everything is black. Except for myself. I can see myself. Standing in blackness. There's the cat. Black on the blackness, watching me. The music plays.
What is going on? I guess I have never really known that. What a redundant question.

The music heightens, It's in my head and around me, the cat smiled. But cats don't smile. I see a flicker of a childhood memory of a smiling purple cat. I brush it away. Cat's do not smile. Especially so white. So eerily, so much larger then it's mouth.

I scream. It's not a cat. It's the masked.. thing. It grins at me. It's always fucking grinning at me. I run at it. It's behind me. I run at it. I want to tear it's stupid mask off. It's behind me, grinning. Always grinning. What am I running on? It's White now. Marble. It's still grinning. I want my cat back. I run at the masked thing. It's grin splits, the teeth sharpened. It swallows me.

I wake up.

Sunday, October 30, 2011

Night Placid

The wind is still, merely a breeze
Creatures nesting in the trees

Distant cars on busier roads,
Carrying home their tired loads

The rhythmic thudding of footfall
I walk the road, straight and tall

I'm walking back to face my fate
Cold makes me shiver, It's getting late

I stop, I stand, I am at peace
As I walk alone, at night, the streets.

Friday, October 14, 2011

Sickness Dreams

I am asleep. I am sick. I am dreaming horrible dreams. I see myself standing, with a line of my loved ones and friends stretching out in front of me. I am to choose their fate, will they live or die. I see myself choose death, for all of them, watching myself, I feel horrified, not only because I am capable of such an act of evil, but my pure emotionless regard of the lives of my friends and family. I simply did not care. They will all die.

I break away from the dream and awake.

I am sweating, I am sick. I remember now. My neck is sore. I have a fever. My head pounds. I see my brothers getting ready for school, my mother walks past and tells me to go sleep in bed, so I don't infect the couch with my sickness. I try to fight the sleep, my fever takes hold and I am asleep again. Back to the dream.

I let someone live. I am unsure who. I feel emotion for the first time. Happiness in seeing them. Then the queue moves on, and I sentence another to their death. Why is it up to me? Why must I decide who lives and who dies? More come, I am scared. I don't want to be like this, I try and shake off the dream.

I awake again. I am scared.

Monday, October 3, 2011

Thursday, September 29, 2011

100 words challenge.

So, Miss Lysandra Newton issued a challenge on her blog to write a story in exactly 100 words, no more no less.

Lets do this.

Timmy drew the dagger from a pocket in his coat, he would only get one chance at this, he knew as much. He watched in silence from his perch in the tree as his target approached. A simple minded thick-headed bully, Mike had been terrorising Timmy for years. And now it was time for revenge. Thud, thud thud. Mike’s footsteps grew closer, his silhouette clearer. Then as he walked under the branch, Timmy leapt, the dagger, aimed for Mike’s throat. Mike looked up at the shape falling towards him. The last thing he saw was a very wicked grin indeed.

Done and Done. :D