#reality

Truth and trust are like a disappearing faith within some people now a day. People’s minds are clouded with darkness. Needing a lie to cover up their mistakes. With all this technology, people can have all different ways of hindering the truth from coming out. Think of it as this…. The mind covers the truth, as the shadows cover the light. The darkness in people’s minds is an unknowing truth, a truth that has no trust. Trust is like this; A lie that has become the truth…. It’s a losing battle.

Rose Hill Place April 11th Rose Hill Place was a rather indefinable place, all things considered. Nothing about it made it stand out to passersby, nothing in its halls to make it appeal to those who came and visited. It was exactly what it appeared to be: a single-floor complex with over a hundred rooms and three dining halls, enough to fit all who lived there and the occasional guest.

My first memory would be that of my boy hood in the summer of 1995. When I was only 12 years old my mother, my brother, and I had recently moved in to a new home apartment. Which, now that I think about it, looked more like one of those haunted houses you see in old horror movies. However, this story is not of that genre, my friend. So do not delude yourself into thinking that it will, as it is not. My mother worked a full time job at a local college and my brother and me would usually be…

I woke up, cold sweat, with something reminiscent of a bad dream clouding my head. Neck cramps, figures. I shift around a lot in my sleep - move about restlessly for a reason I know not.

I awoke to the sound of my cell phone ringing. I opened bleary eyes to see it was still very dark outside. What time was it? After about 5 or 6 rings, the caller gave up. I was tired, but sleep would not come again. Annoyed, I decided I might as well see who it was that was bothering people at this time of night. The number was not one I recognized. I sent a simple text message asking “Who are you?”

I hate my life. I just made some new friends at this stupid school, and now I have to move again because of my father’s stupid new job. We're moving to the other side of the country. I just wish we could stay in a town for more than a few months, but no. Every job just gets better and better, so we have to move. I’d been doing some research on the new town we were moving into. I’ll just say that there are some pretty messed up headlines for this place. Most of them about kids going insane, some…

Edwin was widely considered to be one of the better actors of his time. Some even called him the best overall. With a healthy, theatrical love for Shakespeare plays, he found any chance he could to get involved in one, a contestant among critics to be the finest Hamlet that there ever was, and ever will be.

Electrons excite me. Perhaps that is why I took so readily to computers. By the age of 13 I had cobbled together my first computer from the odd bits leftover from the old computers of friends and family. The rush of creation and experimentation that I felt that day has never been matched, but my experiments are getting closer to recapturing that glory.

When people who died and come back to life say they saw a bright light, they are full of shit. It’s not necessarily their fault though. The mind has a difficult time figuring out things it has never experienced, therefore the mind cannot understand. I’m one of the special, select few who have experienced death and rebirth…often.

I have watched enough crime shows to have heard the adage that everyone screams when they fall. More than one mystery has been started with a detective puzzled by the lack of a scream from an apparent jumper. According to the cinema detectives, even a jumper will show a moment of remorse and scream in terror as they plummet. I had never questioned this wisdom until I began having the dream.

Mad Henry was a hermit who lived alone in a decrepit mansion at the edge of town. Rumors were rife about the wild-eyed man. Some folks said that he was a magician who called upon the powers of darkness to wreck havoc upon his neighbors. Others called him a mad doctor who could restore life to foul corpses from the local cemetery. No respectable citizen in town had anything to do with Mad Henry

Sarah rolled over, glancing at the digital clock resting on her nightstand. She groaned when she saw the green numbers read 2:59 am. As she started to roll over again, a flash of lightning lit up her room and she froze. Her eyes darted to her bedroom window where she thought she had seen a dark figure climbing in, until another flash of lightning proves there’s nothing there. Sarah sighed and rolled over, mumbling to herself. She closed her eyes, drifting back into peaceful slumber.

The remaining Warwolves Stay Linked Up a Grove In THE Void to Protect the Soul In THE Void. But a Powerful Master Vampire Follows.

The first Werewolf Arises In the Mind, Meditation, Enlightenment, and Nirvana, Enters THE Void, and Mind Merges In THE Void With the Soul In THE Void. Passes Through matter and material Energy, Changing people into Werwolves, who Hunt down the remaining human race during a Werewolf Apocalypse until only a hand full of humanity remains, with a sole hero Legend.

Artificial Intelligence. Anything can be Programmed With the Brain Waves. Vehicles now uses computers with vehicle sensors, and hydraulic power, like Optimus Prime in Transformers. People have built two real life Optimus Prime trucks which really function and realistically shapechange.

Rage lives in a cabin in His most ancient woods. A group of murderous guerillas chases a young woman with blonde hair through the woods. All she can do is run so she runs away. She sees the cabin of Rage's and enters the building, finding Rage looking already at her. One the attackers enters after her only to find a machete blades already piercing his heart, she has stepped to the side as instructed before hand by Rage.

A guerilla platoon of psychotics grow up in the woods together, linking pathologies, they in various as appropriate ways hurt a lot of unsuspecting people. They wear metal hockey masks and carry machete blades. They build houses in the woods to play funny games, and when people move in they desend upon them. They target only the weak, and make their victims suffer. One night during fog and full moon light they descend upon a family in a house in the woods.

Ethan always arrived ten minutes early. It wasn’t something he’d planned. It had simply become part of his routine, the same way he always ordered the same coffee, chose the same table, and sat facing the front window. The café was small, tucked between a bookstore and a pharmacy. The furniture was mismatched, the windows were usually streaked with rain, and the woman behind the counter had a habit of forgetting people’s names. Ethan liked it there. Especially on Thursdays.

“Dude, SHUT UP!” “What?” “Yeah, he’s right so please shut up. You’ve been telling the same exact setup, it is always something like someone just hunting a guy down and then everybody dying. Be original for once.” My friend, let’s call her Lucy, said to Jake. I threw my head back and laughed as I put the melted marshmallow inside the s'mores, broke chocolate bars, and slid them inside of the graham crackers.

“I remember when you were just a little girl. Your mother and I tried our best to give you a home where you couldn’t be hurt, since we lived in a bit of a… shady part of town. When you were just a toddler, you would always follow me around the house with that cute little smile of yours, showing me that you still loved me, even after what I had done to the family. Maybe you didn’t know that I divorced your mother and took custody of you because of your undeveloped brain. No, a child naturally…