Here we go...Off to Chappie eight!! Well...sort of...if you count my author rant as a chapter...which I do....Oh, Speaking of ranting! My drama class play was Wednesday and I had the part of the villain. Yesterday, Thursday, we did clean up, and today, Friday, we were finally able to start watching a video of it. Mrs. Sladek, our drama teacher, and play director, told us that most casts' sign their playbooks when the play is over, so we were all passing them around the room. I got mine back and stuffed it into my backpack, to read what people had written on the bus ride home, as I have Drama last bell. Well, I pulled that little book out and read the ones on the front cover, then flipped to the back cover, then started flipping pages to find the rest, as there are roughly sixteen people in the cast, and I had only read about seven or eight signatures. I didn't come across any of the rest. You know how awful that makes someone feel? Everyone signed everyone else's, and I signed all of theirs that were handed to me, but no one can sign mine? What the hell! But to all of you reading this who have done something like that before, that's a real shitty thing to do. Don't do it to someone. That might just be the thing that pushes them over the edge. This might sound like a corny commercial, but it's true. I know. I attempted suicide earlier this year, because one thing too many happened. Okay, now I think I may be in a depressed enough mood to write a Jack chapter, since I have so much trouble with him in this story when I'm hyper.
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'Why did I do it? He was my best friend! I should have known better...' thought Jack, as he drifted into the abyss of dreams. (Oooo....nifty. I used those funny words just to say he fell asleep.~A) Racetrack looked over at him from the make-shift card table at the top of the stairs, and quietly told the others to move back downstairs. They looked at Jack again, to make sure he was asleep, and then packed up. If they would have stuck around five minutes longer, they would have heard him talking in his sleep, for the first time since any of them had known him.
~*(corny dream fade-out)*~
"Now look, boy." A dream-Jack said to a scrawny, eight-year-old dream-Spot. It was funny, though. Jack was still eighteen, but Spot was only eight. And the two didn't even meet until the real Spot was ten. "Now look boy, I'm going to go now. You'll be on your own. Can you handle it?"
" 'Course, I can, Jacky-boy! Whadda ya take me foah?" This little boy had real-life!Spot's voice. Dream-Spot had both his hands behind his back, but since Jack was so much bigger, he could see that he had his finger's crossed. Jack looked at him to tell him that he was staying, but Dream-Spot was already running back to his home, where his family was at, including the sister he had never met before.
"Wait!! No, don't go yet! Come back!" Jack raced after him, but Spot just seemed to get further away, often turning to mock the older boy.
"I don't need you anymore, Jacky-boy." Came a ghostly voice from behind him. Jack turned. Spot stood there, at age sixteen. "But I did. And you weren't there." Spot disappeared, but Jack heard his voice coming from behind him again. "Now look. I needed you Jack, but it ain't good enough anymore." Jack turned to apologize, and screamed out loud, as he hadn't done since his father had been taken away so many years before.
Spot looked awful. Beyond awful. Jack had seen a corps fished out of the river once, after it had been under for three days, snagged on a bridge up-stream. That's about what Spot looked like now, minus the water-logging. His skin was pasty white, with purple-ish rings around his eyes and mouth. His hands were bloody, with huge gashes up and down his arms. He wasn't wearing a shirt, and his chest reminded Jack of sasauge he had seen at Tibby's, before it was cooked. His pants were torn, and stiff with mud, and probably blood as well, and he was barefoot. His entire body was the same white as his face. His hair stood out now, black with something wet that Jack didn't want to think about. Jack was nauseas. He turned and was sick, all over the front steps of a house that hadn't been there moments before. He looked up to see the ghost 'Dead?' Spot standing there, fist closed tightly around something. He threw it, and Jack caught it, as a reflex.
"I won't need this anymore, will I. See ya, Jacky-boy." Ghost Spot turned, and walked through the open door, leaving a trail of muddy 'Bloody?' footprints across the porch. Jack opend his fist to see what it was that Spot had thrown him. What it was made him sick again. It was Spot's key.
~*(corny dream fade-in)*~
Jack sat upright so quick that he hit his head on the bunk above him. Spot was dead. Or hurt horribly. He knew it, just as he knew that the Delancey's were behind it. He looked down at his hand that had caught the key, and sucked in his breath. Wrapped in his fist was his own copy of the key to Spot's old home. He must have gotten it from his bed-side table in his sleep. Only now it was covered in blood. Jack dropped it and wiped his hands on the blanket that was across his knees. He was thouroughly scared for Spot now, and he knew in his heart that the Delancey's would get what was coming to them, but he felt somehow, that it would not be by his hand.
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Okay, I know that chapter was awfully short, but I didn't want to try and write Spot and Savannah and the boys who are still in decent moods. Yeah, I'm just gonna go now. Remember to review and answer my poll!!!
What is your favorite vacation spot?
A) Mt. Everest
B) Pompeii
C) Over-the-Rhine (if you live near where I do, you'll understand why this is here. Think: Riots.)
D) School
Thanks go out to (sorry, no cookies this time) :
Gremlin Raven-thanks!JP:3 is my fave, too.
Sexydaddymagnet69-I'll try!
AthenaHuntress- thanks!
DS-Mandi- Sorry! Please don't cry!
Rebellious Observer- Yikes! Watch it with that sword! You could poke someone's eye out! And thanks for all the compliments! I always look foreward to reading your reviews. They're always so entertaining! Oh, and, JP
:1 is a great one! My second fave.
MooBug-Thanks! And for the record, JP:3 is my fave. Also...Geez!!! How can one not know Draco!! *smacks self for yelling. Not everyone likes Harry Potter and we know it.* Draco is my favorite character in the Harry Potter series.
Review!
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~~~~~~~~~^~~~~~~~~~
'Why did I do it? He was my best friend! I should have known better...' thought Jack, as he drifted into the abyss of dreams. (Oooo....nifty. I used those funny words just to say he fell asleep.~A) Racetrack looked over at him from the make-shift card table at the top of the stairs, and quietly told the others to move back downstairs. They looked at Jack again, to make sure he was asleep, and then packed up. If they would have stuck around five minutes longer, they would have heard him talking in his sleep, for the first time since any of them had known him.
~*(corny dream fade-out)*~
"Now look, boy." A dream-Jack said to a scrawny, eight-year-old dream-Spot. It was funny, though. Jack was still eighteen, but Spot was only eight. And the two didn't even meet until the real Spot was ten. "Now look boy, I'm going to go now. You'll be on your own. Can you handle it?"
" 'Course, I can, Jacky-boy! Whadda ya take me foah?" This little boy had real-life!Spot's voice. Dream-Spot had both his hands behind his back, but since Jack was so much bigger, he could see that he had his finger's crossed. Jack looked at him to tell him that he was staying, but Dream-Spot was already running back to his home, where his family was at, including the sister he had never met before.
"Wait!! No, don't go yet! Come back!" Jack raced after him, but Spot just seemed to get further away, often turning to mock the older boy.
"I don't need you anymore, Jacky-boy." Came a ghostly voice from behind him. Jack turned. Spot stood there, at age sixteen. "But I did. And you weren't there." Spot disappeared, but Jack heard his voice coming from behind him again. "Now look. I needed you Jack, but it ain't good enough anymore." Jack turned to apologize, and screamed out loud, as he hadn't done since his father had been taken away so many years before.
Spot looked awful. Beyond awful. Jack had seen a corps fished out of the river once, after it had been under for three days, snagged on a bridge up-stream. That's about what Spot looked like now, minus the water-logging. His skin was pasty white, with purple-ish rings around his eyes and mouth. His hands were bloody, with huge gashes up and down his arms. He wasn't wearing a shirt, and his chest reminded Jack of sasauge he had seen at Tibby's, before it was cooked. His pants were torn, and stiff with mud, and probably blood as well, and he was barefoot. His entire body was the same white as his face. His hair stood out now, black with something wet that Jack didn't want to think about. Jack was nauseas. He turned and was sick, all over the front steps of a house that hadn't been there moments before. He looked up to see the ghost 'Dead?' Spot standing there, fist closed tightly around something. He threw it, and Jack caught it, as a reflex.
"I won't need this anymore, will I. See ya, Jacky-boy." Ghost Spot turned, and walked through the open door, leaving a trail of muddy 'Bloody?' footprints across the porch. Jack opend his fist to see what it was that Spot had thrown him. What it was made him sick again. It was Spot's key.
~*(corny dream fade-in)*~
Jack sat upright so quick that he hit his head on the bunk above him. Spot was dead. Or hurt horribly. He knew it, just as he knew that the Delancey's were behind it. He looked down at his hand that had caught the key, and sucked in his breath. Wrapped in his fist was his own copy of the key to Spot's old home. He must have gotten it from his bed-side table in his sleep. Only now it was covered in blood. Jack dropped it and wiped his hands on the blanket that was across his knees. He was thouroughly scared for Spot now, and he knew in his heart that the Delancey's would get what was coming to them, but he felt somehow, that it would not be by his hand.
~~~~~~^~~~~~~
Okay, I know that chapter was awfully short, but I didn't want to try and write Spot and Savannah and the boys who are still in decent moods. Yeah, I'm just gonna go now. Remember to review and answer my poll!!!
What is your favorite vacation spot?
A) Mt. Everest
B) Pompeii
C) Over-the-Rhine (if you live near where I do, you'll understand why this is here. Think: Riots.)
D) School
Thanks go out to (sorry, no cookies this time) :
Gremlin Raven-thanks!JP:3 is my fave, too.
Sexydaddymagnet69-I'll try!
AthenaHuntress- thanks!
DS-Mandi- Sorry! Please don't cry!
Rebellious Observer- Yikes! Watch it with that sword! You could poke someone's eye out! And thanks for all the compliments! I always look foreward to reading your reviews. They're always so entertaining! Oh, and, JP
:1 is a great one! My second fave.
MooBug-Thanks! And for the record, JP:3 is my fave. Also...Geez!!! How can one not know Draco!! *smacks self for yelling. Not everyone likes Harry Potter and we know it.* Draco is my favorite character in the Harry Potter series.
Review!
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