Unknown-Authors

When she was a kid, before this disorder turned her into a person she didn't anymore know, Rose would grab the bracelets on her wrist and turn them, they just didn't feel right to her, now she grabbed them for a different reason.  They scratched.  Scratched her sore wrists from the handcuffs she wore just moments ago.  And she remembered something.  It all flushed into her mind now, the rage, the separation, the agony, it all flushed in in a pure rage.  WHY ME? She wondered.  WHY ANYONE?  IF ONLY HE TOLD MOM, WOULD THEY NOT HAVE LEFT ME THEN?  But as Sam saw her i

The Book of Memories Chapter 1 There are things that are best left unsaid and meant to be forgotten; tales throughout history leaving strange, and haunting memories in the minds of those involved. Such a thing had been witnessed by some inhabitants of a large mansion in a strange world, the world of Smashers. An incident concerning deception and many a Smasher, the incident of a Smasher named Mewtwo and his place among his fellow Smashers. His act had been one worthy of entering the mansion’s archives, where it remains to this day; nearly forgotten, but ever present. Nearly a year has passed since the incident, and many have forgotte

Demetri stood in a large room looking out his window to the party scene downstairs. Many Colored lights pointed down to them as they danced to the techno music below. Demetri's room was a watch room. A place to survey the party scene. While they danced in darkness and lights the colors of the rainbow, Demetri watched in his pure white suit wearing with it, to blend in, a white tuxedo and white tie. Demetri was a thin man. Medium height. His hair short and brown. His eyes blue. He wore black rimmed glasses. His hands in his white slacks as he continued watching the party scene. In this room also, the far left side of the room, several monitor

The Dreams are always the same. An explosion. Pain. The smell of Blood. A part of him felt these were memories. He was not sure. The dream would black out after that. Then the sound of Machine Gun Fire. A man speaking in German. A shadow of a Nazi general. Darkness again. More gun fire. Another mans voice. "What's your name kid?" What's your name? the sound echoed. He told the voice he couldn't remember. He woke up. Cold sweat. Like it was a nightmare. But he was not sure if he would call it that. He shook it off. It was dark. No windows in his room. He didn't need the lights on. He heard a ringing sound. A digital ringing sound.

When I got home I sat in my room, not really knowing what had just happened. Max Green…put the moves on me? That sounded ridiculous. It couldn't be true. I must have been delusional or misunderstood what had happened. Nothing could have happened. He was a rock star. He met hundreds, thousands, maybe millions of beautiful girls who were so much cooler than me. He probably had a different girl every night. Which was exactly why I stopped him from doing anything tonight. I didn't want to just be another girl he slept with on the road and didn't think about again. I felt a pang in my chest when I thought about meaning nothing to him, which

Red. The colour of love, desire, of passion. Maybe it was because I was a hopeless romantic, or that I'd read one too many love stories, red was one of my favourite colours of all time. I sighed, letting the wind blow through my hair as I leant back against the fence that separated my house from the edge of the beach. It was one of my greatest pleasures of the day to come down to the beach at the end of the day and watch the sun set below the line of the horizon, making the sky glow with a beautiful mix of red, orange and yellow. Enraptured I slowly slid down so I was sitting on the grass and I stretched out, letting my hair fan out like a