Life could always be worse…..

I like this book! It is very intriguing.*smile*….I like the fact that the boy and the old man get along so well. Teenagers, young adults, and even a few children are so rude and unkind to the elderly that is almost disgusting. So I like how the boy really cares for and respects the old man. Also I like to see that now matter what people do and how sad the circumstances seem the old man still walks with pride and courage.
-”Everything about him was old except his eyes and they were the same color as the sea and were cheerful and undefeated.”

This story really speaks to me. I believe I will like this whole book.

Age 15

“Mom!” A whimpered scream filled the night air. “Mom, the nightmares are back!” An eerie silence filled the house. A soft thud interrupted the silence, as the girl jumped from her bed. “Mom, where are you?!” The muted sound of footsteps running down the stairs resonated through the eerily quiet house. “Mom?!” The footsteps stopped at the landing. “Mom!” Then the girl walked into the living room. She swiped furiously at her eyes. She must be seeing things.

There was blood all over the walls. In the middle of the room was her mom lying in a pool of blood. She lay in a twisted heap near the antique fireplace. Her small frame drenched in blood. The majority of the blood was dried and crusted to her skin. It looked like she put up a fight. Her dress was shredded to the point of almost nonexistence.

She was clutching at her neck; blood was trickling from what seemed like a fresh wound. She was dead, gone from the world in which she tried so hard to keep safe. Gone from the world in which she had hoped to see her children grow old. That sliver of hope was torn away from her like the flesh from her neck. The sight of the blood was nauseating. The girl turned away.

A strangled sound bubbled out of her mom’s throat; the girl spun toward her mom. Her mom’s eyes followed the movement. Hope filled the girl. That little bit of hope quickly diminished as the life slowly faded from her mom’s eyes. The girl screamed in agony.

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Deep in the darkest shadows of the house, two figures stood in silence as they listened to her screams.

“Keep screaming, little girl, keep screaming.” A sinister voice whispered, “You don’t know how much it thrills me.”

“Master Kyllen?” A quiet, but just as sinister voice whispered.

“What, Damien?” Kyllen said with a twinge of annoyance in his voice.

“What are we going to do with her?” Damien said with distaste.

“Why we, my naïve little Halfling, are going to keep her.” Kyllen whispered with a laugh.

————————————-******——————————————–

The girl looked around the room. Someone had to be alive. Someone, anyone. A thought popped into her head. Layla! Layla, she had to be alive. She just had to be. The girl ran up the old, creaky stairs. With each footstep, the boards protested with a squeak. When she reached the door jamb of Layla’s room, she stood frozen to the spot. The sight was agonizing.

Layla, the eldest of the three siblings, lay in a pool of her own blood. Her body was contorted in an impossible position. It looked as though her neck was broken right where the head touches the spine. There were crimson stains in various spots on her white nightgown. Her silky, burgundy hair was splayed around her head like a shining halo glistening in the moonlight. Her pale grey eyes stared into an empty oblivion. Fear held the girl in a death grip. Only a monster could have done something like this to such a sweet person. Layla had plans. Plans to someday go to college. To someday meet her love. That was never going to happen. A monster stole that simple and lovely dream, and ripped it to shreds. Tears were now streaming down the girl’s face. She fell to the floor screaming in sorrow and rage. She pounded her fisted hands against the blood stained carpet of her sister’s room. “No!” She sobbed, “Why her? Why?!” Then she remembered her brother Tyrell. Maybe he was still alive; maybe he could help her.

She soon found out that that was a hopeless wish. Tyrell, the middle child, was in worse condition then Layla. His body was torn limb from limb. His blood was crusted to his skin and the walls. His mouth was frozen in a silent scream. She choked on the bile rising to her throat, as she realized she was alone in the world. Her whole family was dead.

She ran back downstairs to her mom. She wanted to see her one last time before she left this…place. When she hit the landing, she heard an odd slurping noise. She spun to face the living room. Beside her mom was a figure all in black. It almost resembled a shadow. The figure turned around to face her, blood dripping from sharp, elegant fangs. A sadistic smile twisted the figure’s almost angelic features. As the figure’s ice, blue eyes stared into her sapphire blue eyes, her vision filled with a black haze.

The girl awoke as her petite, lithe body was lifted off the ground. She started to scream and thrash around. A strong, powerful hand gripped her mouth. It felt like her bones where being crushed; the pain caused her to quiet. When the girl finally stopped struggling, the hand lifted from her mouth.

A soothing voice whispered in her ear,”Everything will be ok.”

He smiled at the irony of his words. Nothing would ever be “ok.” She would probably hate him forever. However, he was also giving her a gift, a gift of immortality. Within that gift, she would learn to love him. She would also be willing to be his little pet his little slave. His queen.

He curled his fingers in the soft, honey brown hair of his queen. He could imagine the taste of the sweet blood coursing through the vein right under his finger. It would be something like honey and sugar. He groaned at the thought; his fangs slid wetly down his bottom lip. The girl’s eyes slowly widened to size of quarters when she saw his fangs; she started to scream and thrash around again. Before he could control himself, he smacked her across the mouth. He hit her so hard her lip started to bleed. He cringed at her tears. God, how he hated tears. 

“Damien! Watch her until she stops this…this howling!” He set her down and stalked out into the deep twilight, slamming the door behind him. He crouched down on the soft, sweet-smelling grass and stared up at the star speckled sky. He ran his fingers through his silky, raven-colored hair. This was going to be a long night.

The girl could still feel his hand stroking her hair. She tried to shake the feeling off; only this time, it came back harder. She tried to move away but a hand came from behind her to grip her waist. She wiggled and squirmed but every time she moved, the grip on her grew vice-like. The fingers of her captor felt like they were digging through her bone. Tears started to stream down her face.

“Crying is going to get you nowhere. You know that right?” Damien whispered mockingly. The girl’s eyes widened as he spun her around to face him. His sea green eyes, which were staring straight into hers, were laced with pure bloodlust. A slow grin spread across his face. He grabbed the girl by her neck and slammed her against the wall. A sadistic smile spread across his face as she cried out. He ran a newly manicured fingernail down her cheek. She cringed. He dug his nails into her cheek. Blood trickled down her cheek. She whimpered. “Now, now, dear, am I that hideous to you?” He whispered in her ear. As she desperately shook her head, a slow grin played a across his lips. “So….you want me then?”

Why am I controlling you? Well my dear it’s the easiest way to make you my blood slave.

YOUR WHAT? She demanded, shocked.

My blood slave. What did you think you were to me? My queen? Not a snowball’s chance in hell. You are too weak to be my queen. Besides, you are Kyllen’s. But I can still have you as my blood slave. My sweet, delicious blood slave. Your blood must taste like honey, he sneered

Oh god…Why didn’t you just kill me with my family?

Because, my dear, Kyllen has been after you for a long, long time. He had this crazy notion of you being his queen.

B-but I’m o-only fifteen. Why would he want me? She stuttered.

How, the hell, would I know that?

The girl’s head shot up when Kyllen touched her shoulder. Her mind felt like it was swirling inside her head. She turned her face up to look at Kyllen. “How do you know my –?”

“No!” Damien roared. “That was not supposed to happen!”

“What was not supposed to happen, Damien?” Kyllen said mockingly.

“You know what I was doing, don’t you?”

“Why, yes…!” He shouted. He paused as if thinking of what to say next. Then he yelled so loud the walls felt like they were trembling, “WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING?!” He grabbed Damien by the throat and threw him against a wall. Damien’s body connected with the wall with a loud crack. Slowly he got to his feet. Fury darkened his eyes to a deep emerald. He growled as he slowly walked over to Kyllen. Losing his bravado, Kyllen backed up until he bumped into the wall behind him. Damien sneered. “Running away from me, all mighty king of mine? Now, why would you go and do that?” Damien set his hand on Kyllen’s chest. Taking this as a sign of forgiveness, Kyllen relaxed.

“Big mistake,” Damien hissed. As shock registered on Kyllen’s face, Damien shot a bolt of pure energy through Kyllen’s heart. As Kyllen’s body grew limp, Damien slowly turned around to face Lilianna.

“….please…,” she whispered as she back away from him.

“Please what? Please don’t do this?” He said as he grabbed her by her neck and shoved her against the wall, “Or please don’t do this?” He hissed as he dragged his nail down her cheek. He smiled at the sight of the cherry red blood against her pale ivory skin. He flicked his tongue out to taste the sweet blood. He growled as he shoved her hair off her neck.

Blogs, to me, are basically a diary/journal on the internet. I’m sure they are much more then that but mainly I use blogs as a form of release. I use blogs all the time; the most frequent place I blog is on “Myspace”. People say “Myspace” is one the most dangerous websites to visit. I kind of understand where these people are coming from. I mean if someone wrote something like this:(Note:names and addresses are fake) “Hi my name is Sally Boborscha Mccaulins-O’Brian. I go to Rachel-Goefooeey North High school. And I live in Tunga County, on Saint Olauff Street….” Now that is just asking the scary stalker/killer guy to your house. It’s like a free invitation to slaughter you in your sleep. In that aspect, the internet can be dangerous. If and only if you post every single thing about yourself; but that is just plain stupidity. Now, if you post with caution the internet can be an almost safe place. In reality, though, nothing in life is safe.

Writing is the most important thing in the world, other then the air we breathe or the food we need….etc. If we didn’t have writing we would lose history. Or history will become a jumbled mess and people really wouldn’t know the truth of what we did in the past. That would be the case if we spoke the years past and didn’t write it down. Writing it down can possibly make it stay forever. Which makes writing the most important thing.

I prefer to write morbid-ish poems and suspense and murder novels. I guess you could say I am a morbid person with a sunny attitude. How is that possible? However,  now is not the time or place to take about this. Sadly,  it is time for me to go. TA-TA!