Nighttime Prowler

 I just felt like writing this. It's sort of (not) based off of a real fake true story.

Sleeping. Or so they think. I lay in my bed, eyes closed in false slumber. I crack them open so slightly, just enough to see their blurry silhouettes moving about the room. I suppress a smile. I hear the opening of the fridge, of some sort of container being opened and the insides consumed. I saw Mum walking towards the stairs and ascending. I saw Dad returning from the kitchen, on his way to the office to finish his work on the computer. Once both were out of sight, I silently slid out of bed and crept towards the dim light of the office. Dad was on his computer, back towards me. My older brother sat on the other side of the room, typing something and listening to music through large headphones. Perfect. I had the lucky advantage of owning black pajamas. I tip-toed over to my dad, silently watching his work for a minute, then lowering myself onto my stomach. I slid myself underneath his chair, still unbeknownst to the the two of them. My stomach churned with anticipation and my heart pounded, excited about what was coming. I reached forwards, slowly, and suddenly grabbed Dad’s ankles. He yelled in surprise and jumped up. He flung his head down to observe the source of the unexpected intrusion. Once he saw my cheerful face, he started laughing. My Dad only laughs like this on the rare occasion. It was a very happy moment. Soon I was herded back into bed, this time with promises of dormancy and a glass of water. Before I fell back to sleep, I thought to myself, “These are the sort of things that make life grand.”

The Experience

Warning! The following contains fairly graphic scenes that may disturb some readers.

I was sitting on the operation table. At first, it was dark in the room. Then, a bright light came on with cruel disregard. I heard footsteps, inaudible speech in a foreign language, and laughter. Manic laughter seemed to fill the room. I heard everything that was going on around me. I heard metal sliding against wood, objects being laid beside me on the table, and more footsteps drawing closer. I had a grim prediction of what awaited me, but I was horribly mistaken. My fate was worse than anything I could have imagined. First, I felt a burning pain in my skull. A blade had been brought down upon my flesh, but I was not yet dead. Some sick force kept me alive to endure the worst pain yet to come; the most gut-wrenching, literally. I felt the top of my head being taken right off, I could feel the stale air against my inner organs. A huge metal spoon dug into my insides and started ripping them out through the top of my head! It was unholy and perverse and I begged for death's sweet embrace. Anything would be of more comfort than my current experience, even a bed of rusty nails. I heard more speech, and I felt a gloved hand run down my body. Then, a blade once again cut into me, this time lower down. I began to notice a pattern, the cuts became strange symbols. I was confused and hurting beyond comprehension. I wished for nothing more for it all to end. After a while, my wish was granted, and the cutting stopped. I was picked up, carried, and the last thing I remember was fainting from shock and pain.

I awoke on the curb of a dark street, bloodied and cut. I still have yet to understand the purpose of this gruesome and terrible act that had been committed on me. These insane savages will get what's coming to them.

Mark my words.

Epilogue: This is the carving of a pumpkin from the view of the pumpkin. No worries! I am not some messed-up sicko! It's supposed to sound really gruesome!

Cow.

Today I had an experience as a farmer tending to a cow. It wasn't a real cow, yet it was not imaginary. It was not small nor big, it was just the right size. It is neither too brown or too white, but it was in fact pink. It's only friend in the pen was a dyslexic neurotic goat who would faint easily. They've had a troubled life. One memorable day, two rapscallions of children came and tried to have some fun with my very best cow. They tipped the poor girl over, and in no time flat the goat had fainted. As I tended to my animals, the kids ran off to make more mischief. Soon after, the kids returned on a stolen grass cutting machine and chased my poor friends around the farm! It was awful! There was nothing I could do, and soon after my animals were gone into the wild. I sat on my chair and contemplated my fate. I miss my cow.

Famous Churches

I DID NOT WRITE THIS. I JUST THOUGHT IT WAS GREAT.

An American decided to write a book about famous churches around the world. For his first chapter he decided to write about American churches. So he bought a plane ticket and took a trip to Orlando, thinking that he would work his way across the country from South to North.

On his first day he was inside a church taking photographs when he noticed a golden telephone mounted on the wall with a sign that read $10,000 per call". The American, being intrigued, asked a priest who was strolling by what the telephone was used for. The priest replied that it was a direct line to heaven and that for $10,000 you could talk to God. The American thanked the priest and went along his way.

Next stop was in Atlanta. There, at a very large cathedral, he saw the same golden telephone with the same sign under it. He wondered if this was the same kind of telephone he saw in Orlando and he asked a nearby nun what its purpose was. She told him that it was a direct line to heaven and that for $10,000 he could talk to God. "O.K., thank you," said the American. He then traveled to Indianapolis, Washington DC, Philadelphia, Boston, and New York. In every church he saw the same golden telephone with the same "$10,000 per call" sign under it.

The American, upon leaving Vermont saw a sign for Canada and decided to see if Canadians had the same phone. He arrived in OTTAWA, and again, there was the same golden telephone, but this time the sign under it read "10 cents per call." The American was surprised so he asked the priest about the sign. "Father, I've traveled all over America and I've seen this same golden telephone in many churches. I'm told that it is a direct line to Heaven, but in every state the price was $10,000 per call. Why is it so cheap here?"

The priest smiled and answered, "You're in Canada now son, it's a local call".

Danger, Warning, Caution

Danger! Danger!

High voltage

No trespassing

Caution, warning

Danger! Danger!

Violators will be prosecuted

Risk of electric shock

Toxic

Danger! Danger!

Call poison control immediately

Do not ingest

Do not let product come into contact

With mucous membranes

Warning! Warning!

Do not shake

Contents under pressure

No smoking

Warning! Warning!

Bathroom out of order

Do not operate heavy machinery

Please keep quiet, work in progress

Caution! Caution!

May contain nuts

Shake well before serving

Expiry date on shoulder of bottle

Caution! Caution!

Take 1-2 tablets daily

Refrigerate after opening

Explosive gases

Hallow's Eve Ensemble

Think of each of the paragraphs as being unrelated. They aren't really meant to make sense with each other.

Silent, is stalking prey

Monsters be out today

A'gallopin' down the street

On largest monster feet

Monsters they be everywhere

O'er here and o'er there

Isn't much that I can do

To stop big monster getting you!

Dressing up so fancily

Skipping 'round so merrily

Going out with fa-mi-ly

All to get the best candy!

Robed in white

Oh way up high

Soon time to strike,

Soon time is nigh

Now I will be lowered down

Until I almost touch the ground

Little kids are what I scare

I'm a ghost, what do I care?

It is dark, it isn't right

I hate going out at night

Who was this and who was that

Oh my gosh, a bat!

Vampires, ghosts and ghouls oh my

I really think I'm going to cry.

The sun is gone, the moon is high

Now it's time to say goodbye

We be off and down the street

For to get us trick or treat!

Czech it out!

I made all of that up right now at 11:11 PM. It's completely original, I swear!

Czech out my new pants. They are very france-y pants. Iran around in my france-y pants all the time. Iran so much that my france-y pants get greece-y. Sometimes, when I'm china go to sleep, all I can think about is rome-in 'round in my france-y pants. My momma comes in the door and says, "Kenya go to sleep already? I gotta russia out the door tomorrow morning for the doctor's czech-up." I reply, "Norway, ma! It's chille india room! Taiwan to sleep, I'm tired, but kenya turn up the heat a bit?" I get up and look outside. There's this crazy guy s'weden his lawn... in the middle of the night. It was to-italy strange. I picked up my toy crane and said, "Ukraine, czech out that crazy man who's rome-in 'round china s'weden his garden in this chille weather. Kenya france-y that?!"

The Juggernaut

My mission is of the upmost importance. So many people depend on me every day. In fact, my mission is so important I must do it every hour to keep things in line. If I was to miss a job, the fabric of their work would unravel very quickly. I am an integral part of a very large-scale operation involving thousands of people a day. I am large, possibly the largest thing many people have and will ever see. But I am comfortable with so much responsibility. I am fearless. I live for my mission and for my people.

What am I?

The Costal Renaissance, the most impressive boat in the B.C. Ferries’ arsenal. Equipped with dual cafe/restaurant blasters, massive interior space filled with the most precious cargo protected by a super-strong yet sleek and stylish white-finished hull, capable of withstanding even the most crushing of wave onslaughts. I am a juggernaut, all beast on the outside. But inside, I am a comfortable, relaxed atmosphere, capable of catering to all and all needs. You could say I’m perfection incarnate. But I’d rather just be referred to as ‘the Big Ferry boat’.

In the Trail of Fire...

My head is spinning furiously as I am speeding around the track. I tilt to the side as I come around a corner. I hear screaming, loud and piercing, it comes in waves like a relentless tide. My limbs ache, but I know I must keep strong... many people's lives depend on it. They are stuck, physically, and so am I, but mentally. I felt like I was just running in circles, never able to get away from the repetition. I can almost smell their fear when they are this close. My insides groan as we come up yet another hill, only to plummet down once again.

I am forced into this terrible slavery, and I am unable to understand it's purpose. Why do we bring living people in this terrible journey of screams and drops and twists and turns, only to let them off minutes later? I feel so guilty for doing this never-ending toil, and the only way I can comfort myself is that these poor souls with whom I bring with me are set free to a better place and not to some different, more terrifying instance. The only thing I know about them is one word that they seem to call me.

Rollercoaster.

Acting

This just came to me in class one day. It has received many positive reviews.

Acting is so much fun
Onstage as the only one
Or maybe on with a group
Focused like army troops
So many roles I can play
To rule or to obey?
Making the audience feel what's not
Am I a pirate or an astronaut?
Everything's so magical here
Up onstage with my hopes and fears
Butterflies and stage fright
Are keeping me company tonight
Singing high and singing low
We must go on with the show
I'm on the stage above the crowd
The floor is the sky and I'm on a cloud
Nothing here will stop me now
Unless I forget my lines somehow!
End of the play, people cheer and clap
Good job, my friends, that's a wrap!

One Terrible Night...

Eyes glinting in the darkness, fur as black as the night itself, this creature of the shadows embodies the fear of those around. Swift and silent, it creeps up the steps towards it's unsuspecting prey. Only moments later, screams could be heard by the whole neighborhood. But wait, these are not cries of terror or pain, these noises take the form of a well-known chant, heard only in this gruesome time of year...

Trick or treat! Then the masked figure moves away, satisfied with the treasures he has found, back down the street to feast upon his victims' bounty. I knew a gorilla would make a good costume!

A Day in the Life of a Carnivore

Another something I found while ruffling through my papers.

He padded along on the soft forest floor, silent as could be. Not making any noise was pretty much his best bet at catching something to eat. He hadn't eaten since his pack abandoned him in the tundra. Something about him "not helping the pack" and "too small to do any good", but there was no time for bitter feelings. He had wandered south to escape the harsh cold, and had arrived at a huge forest of pine trees in northern Canada.
Suddenly, he heard something off to his left, a rabbit grooming itself in front of a fallen tree. He immediately got lower, hiding in the sparse grass of pine-needle covered soil. Then, he sprang forward, eyes on his prey, feeling nothing but adrenaline and pure instinct, all his senses were on overload. Even so, the succulent animal bounded into a hidden home under the tree. Gone, the sad canine realized. The wolf's stomach rumbled painfully. If he didn't find some kind of sustenance soon, he would surely die.
Later in the evening, when the sun was nearing the horizon, he came across the carcass of a deer. It wasn't nearly fresh, but it wasn't picked clean either. Maybe there was a meal in there for our needing adventurer. The killer had obviously eaten his fill and left the rest for scavengers. The wolf never liked scavenging, but in dire times the ability to eat rotten meat was a gift indeed. He would stay alive for a while longer, at least. As he ate, one could say that they could see a grin on this wolf's muzzle.

The Tree

I wrote this a while ago, found it in my binder.

Stories tell of a most amazing pine tree. It's branches emerged from it's healthily large trunk in a perfect spherical fashion. There was not a spot of discoloration on it's beautifully thick nest of needles. It smelled of the most intricate and layered fragrance that pleased the nose in wonderful ways. It grew on a perfect snow-covered hill, with not a single member of it's brethren for a mile around. It stood tall and proud, like a monument embodying the true spirit of winter. All the animals of the plains stood in awe at this magnificent being. The humans, for the most part, knew not of it's existence, and those who did kept it as a most cherished secret. It is said that it is a thousand years old, that it was born on the winter solstice during a frightfully cold winter. Somehow it survived the tempest of snow and wind, year after year, flourishing and one day achieving the grandeur of it's current state. They say it is still standing today, and that is is blessed so that it may never perish by fire, age or axe.