![]() Author has written 4 stories for Young Justice. I'm EuphoricSpeedster, but just call me Euphoric. I mostly go by Euphoria. I'm 16 and I have been writing suspense and mystery fan fiction for well over a few years now. I generally just keep them to myself and read others fan fictions instead. I upload most the time, though. I hope to read some amazing and inspiring fan fictions here, as well as meet some fellow writers that share the same love and interest for writing. I'm currently trying my best to up what writing skills I have, so some stories don't get updated when I say they will be. It's not that I won't update, it's that I am trying to make it something I can be proud to post, instead half ass'd. Story Sampler: Breezevil Today is Saturday. When I woke this morning I was over come with the urge to leap through the window. I don't know why, it felt right, even though I knew if I did I would cause a terrible scene or more than likely snap my ankles like the fragile twigs they are. I was on the second story. The neighbors would be talking, and my "Embarrasment" is my mother's- no, she doesn't deserve such a unconditional biological name such as Mother. Mary Ann Dunk's "Embarrasment". Sliding out from the sheets I thrusted my legs over the side of the bed, where my pink rabbit slippers sat patiently every morning for all ten of my little piggies. My mom hates those slippers, but I'm sure it is only because I use them to shuffle around the house soundlessly without even my dog hearing me. I've used this against her, and she laughs everytime. She doesn't know, but I do that because I know deep down she hates it. She always hates what I do, or asks ridiculous questions like why I feel compelled to scare the daylights out her anytime I get the chance. I especially do it when guests are over (Usually her new super boyfriend, Sigmund.). When she's scared she drops that terrible facade and her beautiful personality melts like the witch she really is. I'm sure if I scared her badly enough, Sigmund would bare witness to her wickedness and leave her before she's trapped him, just like my pour father had fallen for her. Today is the day I do that. Because today is Halloween day, specifically October 31st 2008, friday. My mother- I mean Mary Ann- has no idea I've rigged the house with particulary cheap yet rather fancy traps that my best friend had prepared specially for me. I've seen a demonstration and I must say, this has been his most ingenious plan so far. His name is Charley Fhaker. Before you ask, yes, Charley gets picked on for his rather unfortunate last name. He told me he'd be changing it soon, when he was old enough or before he went to college. "Who would want to go to a Detective whose last name is Fhaker." He says. I've heard him say it a thousand times, but I don't mind much when he repeats himself. I like his accent. "Zephr, wake up," Mary Ann shouts up the stairs. She has the most unpleasant British accent I have ever heard. I can prefectly imagine her hair rolled up in the plastic curlers with her one hand on her hip and a pan in the other. "I am awake!" I shout back. I go to my door and open it. In the landing, I look down the stairs to see Mary Ann. Her hair is up in pink plastic hair curlers, and she has a pan with sizzling eggs in one hand and the other on her hip. She stares at me, Lip stainers and liquid eye shadow permanently smeared to her complexion. She is always wearing that atrocious make up, but I don't ever plan on seeing her without it. It's ghost story I'd rather be told, instead of tell. "Well then get dressed, Sigmund is coming over and I want you to look nice this time." She says. I don't know why she cares what I look like, Sigmund isn't my boyfriend. "What do you care what I look like? he's your boyfriend." "Because, you always dress so..Abnormal. For once I would like to see you looking-" "Like Alexus?" Alexus is my older, more successful sister. My mother loves her, apparently more than her other child. Which is me. Not Alexus's sister, but the independent, comedian, Zephr Begona Dunk. I am proud to be nothing like her. Though my mother obviously prays I wind up to emulate her. "Not now, Zephr. Just go get dressed and come down to eat." I normally don't listen to anything my mother tells me, but I go to my room without a snarky reply or going to eat anyway. I must go and face the mountain of clothes that has swallowed my once clean closet right out of existance. Messes are my mortal enemy, or more my nemisis. I hate them, but I create them. I only clean it every week or two, only because I get fed up with working around it or looking at it. I face the mountain and say "Clothes mountain, we meet again." It's cliche, and not at all cool, but saying it to a mountain of clothes, it isn't supposed cool. Too be continued... |
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