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Saturday, October 15, 2011


It was centuries since barbaric wars, and slavery, and such uncivilied events. Now, effort was put into science, and literature. The world was striving, and more specifically, so was "Mrs. Dr. WOW" as she was so fondly referred. She had been a special conception. Her parents were rich and were able to go to the very best when they wanted to construct their daughter. They were able to pick her gender, her traits, even her hair color.  She was currently working with a feminist group, and was on a breakthrough to allowing conception to occur without any male participation or products. She had just finished creating them herself.

Dr. WOW's construct were to replace male necessity in society. And thus, she decided to rid of them once and for all. Her plan was simple, with each shipment an invisible, odorless drug would make all Y-chromosones void, useless.Once the men died off, the world would be pure.

However, unbenonced to her, another less known scientist was trying to construct matter, such that conception could occur  without any female presence. Once he finished he hoped to destroy all y-chromosone, destroy the possibility of another baby girl.

Neither knew each other, neither knew the others plans, neither knew that they were siblings.But both knew that they needed to be the first. They were both rushing the clock trying to test, confirm, and then finish the plan... to change society forever.

Within a week's time almost every lab was trying the new, cheaper, replacements. However, no one knew that they were meant to kill. And kill they did.

Men died off, and women died off. And babies were born and raised. But soon they noticed a problem. Their supplies suddenly stopped working.  Neither the y-chromosone nor the x-chromosone worked. And Dr. WOW was dead. And her brother was dead. And soon, all humanity would be dead, too.

Friday, October 14, 2011

Fashion Disaster

A very famous orphan once said that no one cares what you're wearing as long as you have a smile. But they're wrong. TOday,
it is "necessary" to own the top clothes, shoes, and brand name everything. But I don't want to sound like I'm lecturing.
Whether you have the top brands, or not, if you're covered in scars, you have a fashion disaster.
I don't know how to say this, how to make you understand. People say I'm selfish, I just want attention, but these scars,
I don't want them. Each day I wake up and see slashes and line. Some healed, some healing, and by the time I've had
breakfast, there are some new. Alchoholics can run away from their addiction, but pain is all around us. Even locked in
a room I have teeth, I have nails, and I can easily bang myself against things till I'm broken, bruised, and unconscious.
I don't like pain. I hate pain. I hate these damn scars, and this damn stereotype. I hate what they did to me... and what
I did to myself. I need to stop, I want to stop. But I need it like I need air, or I need food. It's slowly become a part
of me. I try to cut it out, but I just bleed. The pain never goes away. I'm desperate for any relief... I want to get away
from my captors, from what they've done to me... but I'm stuck. I'm stuck like an embryo in an egg. The only way to get out
is to die... to be scrammbled or fried. But I've tried that. It's harder than you think. It's more trouble than it's worth...
so what are my options?
I know you disagree. I know most of you who read this will hate me...will dispise me for writing this. Some of you might send
the white coats after me to lock me up in some asylum. When he slashed my hymen, when he took what he wanted. He took a part
of me. I have to stay clean, stay healthy for the baby. I have to be strong for the baby. For my daughter, for my sister.
Everyone thinks it's some teenage love baby. No one would suspect a father, no one would suspect a judge. My mother and Father
both sat me down scolded me, and demanded a name. It was "The Scarlet Letter" all over again. Except she could take that
stupid "A" off. I'm stuck with these scars forever.

That Night

That night I woke
With endless fright
And jumped from bed as fast as light.

I grabbed the baby
And opened the door
Faster than I’d ever before.

I looked right and saw three-
My little brothers ran to me.
We all looked forward
And went to mom.

We sat on her bed
For what seemed so long.

We where dismissed
No fire to be found
The false alarm was
Now all sound.

We went to bed
Very calm
And awoke again
Much after Dawn

La Guillotine

A last few words to be heard by all
Just so someone might recall
A young country guillotined
A sight like none ever seen

Wait just a minute and my noise will subdue
As another heart is called to it’s doom

A farmer, a peasant a widow they call
To give their lives for one and all and
With a cheer for the red gleaming ax,
Another head is thrown down at last.

Soon your life shall come to this stage
And you too shall fade away

No child, no woman, no family shall show
Their fear and hate of the guillotines row
And if a tear or sorrow is shed
La guillotine will strike them dead.

Revenge and hate spread more and more
As the piles of heads on the countries’ floor.
Not even the baby shall be free
For France shall be hit by La Guillotine.

Now I shall lay down my head
On this a cold, blood shed bed
And as the shining blade comes down,
I wear a red, bloodshed gown.

You will come just as I
to feed the thirst of La Guillotine.

Endless Night

She got home from work and let her children wake to the aroma of pancakes. She cared for three children alone. She had always been alone. No man stayed more than a night. Not even the father she never knew. The apartment was too small. The food was not enough. She sold her body for bread and milk, but she couldn’t last a man longer.

The children walked sleepily to the kitchen and she wiped the tears from her eyes, and the piles of bills from the table. Then, she declared the day a holiday. The children ate quickly, barely breathing between bites. They left the dish less table sticky with maple syrup and remnants of pancakes and canned fruit.  Then, they played games. They took out Clue, Trouble and Life. They guessed, and popped the die and moved their cars down the road of life. They all played and the children laughed until they cried. But she just cried.

The youngest, who was three, took his blanket and wiped her tears. The seven and nine year old looked at each other. They knew she was getter sicker. They knew things were worse. They quickly tried to continue the game. They played each game they had found in random trash cans and sidewalks. Then they told stories. The cabinets were unlocked... and so was the little cooler. They were allowed to eat freely and they ate as if they were starving - and many might argue that they were.

As the sun set, they kissed her good night and went to bed. She sung them to sleep and went to the closet to get her work clothes. She sat in the closet crying; then she did what she knew she had to do. She grabbed the pistol and walked to the frameless mattress where all three lay. She couldn’t see through her tears but she felt the warm bodies and she remembered the bills, and the threats, and the empty cabinets. She knew she had to give them a better life.  

Thursday, October 13, 2011


It was the coolest thing ever! The new "Wallpaper Camera" was almost invisible, but the lense did something that
shaped it someway so I could see the entire room. It was so cool... first Beth and I used it to spy on her sister and
her sister's girlfriends during there "Study (not) Sleepover". We were at my house but we could see everything that was
said, and done. We learned a lot that night... but now I hate the camera that I have since destroyed.
After a few weeks of listening to secrets and gossip that the high school girls seemed addicted to, I decided
to place a camera in the private meeting between some boy and Beth's big sister. I locked Beth into my bedroom
closet so she could watch, and I went to grab a snack. I decided I'd eat it outside since the cool air was
starting to set in. But then I fell asleep.
Meanwhile Beth was watching...watching the boy in the "gangsta clothes" come. Then she watched him try to get
her sister into the bedroom. She helplessly watched her sister refuse and the boy pull a knife, and push her
into a corner. She screamed at me to let her out, to call 9-1-1. She cried and begged...and I slept.
she saw more, but she has never told me..and she never will. She had often told me she couldn't wait until her
sister was gone. But I guess she needed her more than she thought because she let her veins run dry within hours
of receiving notice of her sister's death.
Without my bestfriend, I wanted to die too. But I saw how it wrecked her family. So, I sit here, my will beside me,
trying to decide whether to be selfish or not. Anyways, it is simple will. Most of my stuff would have been left to
 Beth anyways.. so it goes like this
                                             My Will
      Auntie - The scrapbook you made me, my ruby earrings (for the baby)
      Boys and Girls Club - All my extra sports equiptment
      Mom and Dad - divide everything else up how you will. I love you so much
        and this is not your fault. See you in Heaven, if I make it there.

I looked at the handwritten paper, and the bottle of ibiprophen, the the kitchen knife, and the lump of rope.
I wondered if it would hurt, if I'd make it alive, if I'd be a brain-dead vegetable for fifty or eighty more
years. I don't know what to do, but remember (if anybody even reads this), please remember never to cause the
deaths of one, nevermind two, people you love. It might just kill you too.