Friends Aren’t The Best
1. Toxic - boywithuke
2. My Alcoholic Friends - Dresden Dolls
3. Friends Go - Maggie Lindemann
4. All Of My Friends - Tally Hall
An Ode To Sara (I hate this hotel)
My lack of joy for capitalism made me despise my deceased Grandma more than I did when she was alive. She knew I wanted nothing to do with her "haunted hotel" and left it in her will to me anyway, proving I must be her least favorite granddaughter.
I tried to get anyone else in my family to take it. They refused. I talked to lawyers, who told me selling the hunk of junk was basically impossible. So I moved into a stupid old hotel.
Luckily Grandma made sure that her staff all worked there still (although that may have also been spiteful because she knew I preferred to be alone), so all I would have to do is manage.
Of course, if the five separate murder cases in the past century, people hesitated to stay there. Grandma claimed it to be an attention attractor, but I think when it passes three murders, staff and customers alike, that's more of a sign to stay away.
The staff mostly just left me alone to wallow in my misery, only bothering me when something really needed to be taken care of.
Then I met Sara. I bumped into her as she was carrying sheets, helped her pick them up and carry them, and we started talking. Nothing she said could be considered out of the usual, but something about her just interested me.
I invited her to go over planning with me because despite just being a cleaner, Tara adored the hotel. I normally would have hated that, but her love for so horrible just made my heart flutter.
We must have been talking for months. Her being around was the only thing to make me happy, and she admitted to enjoying my presence too. I wondered if she share a similar interest in me as I did with her.
I genuinely could have fallen for her.
That changed when we got patrons. A family of four, a mom, dad, and two boys, one a young teenager while the other could have been no older than seven. I gave them their key, and just to make Grandma roll in her grave a bit, warned them of the hotel's past and offered to find somewhere else to stay.
The parents seemed tired and thanked me for informing them, but decided to still stay the night.
They called first at 10:43 pm. They said there was a smell in their room, like something was rotting.
I had them switch rooms and told the staff to clean the room and check the vents.
Another called at 12:06 am. Same problem, but slightly worse. I came to look this time myself, and it was worse than I thought. It was like someone put rotten meat under a magnifying glass in July. It was then I noticed the parents no longer had their children with them.
I feared the worst and went to my landline to call the cops after giving them another room. Of course, it didn't work. I tried to tell my staff, but they all just ignored me and kept cleaning.
By 3:28 am I had enough. I went to the staffroom, and grab a crowbar. I went to the first room they were first staying in and forced open the vent.
I almost puked when it opened and the rotted corpse of the mother dangled out. She was bloated and had a bloodstain that was almost black on her blouse. When I screamed my Sara was the only one who came running.
Even in my hysterics she could understand me and was trying to calm me down. She tried to get a few words in but failed as I ran out to the 2nd room.
I was faster than her, so by the time she ran in I was already screaming about the rotted flesh of the father, his head barely hanging on by a thread.
Sara must have been able to tell I was ready to run to the room they were currently staying in, and that's when her composure broke. She screamed, cried, and begged as she chased me to the 3rd room, yelling at me to not do it.
When I opened the door with the master key, there was no one inside. Thinking back on it, the only person I had seen since the 1st room was Sara, but did not notice it then.
She yanked my arm away as I jammed the crowbar into the vent, and went quiet as she fell onto the floor in front of us.
With the same uniform and same face, it was Sara. But her expression wasn't bright or alive, instead was pale and had red staining her forehead. I dropped my crowbar in shock, finally noticing the tint of red on the end.
I was alone in the room with a bloody crowbar. I walked out of the room, and I had to change my statement. I was alone in a hotel, surrounded by ghosts.
Why won't you talk to me
I'm so alone and would kill to hear your voice once more
Just move the dial and select your letters
Please turn the knob and other your door
I miss you and want you next to me
In a way where we can touch
Instead of just trading cold spots
Being by myself is just too much
Why were you ripped away?
Just set up the board so I can talk with you
I don't need anyone else, you're the only life I need
Make me feel alive with only your view
One More Down
Kira entered his house with him hesitantly, taking in the large building.
"Woah. Are you rich or something?" Even in the dark of the night, Kira could see marbled floors and a large T.V.
The man smirked proudly. "Yeah, I have a well-paying job."
Her eye's widened at the large oil painting they passed. "This is totally amazing! I feel really out of place here." She laughed nervously, tugging on her purse strap.
"Don't worry," The man shrugged, "I'll help you feel at home." He turned around and saw her examine a family photo.
"Where are your wife and son now?" She asked quietly, brushing a finger over the son's face with her gloved hand.
He walked back to her and snaked an arm around her waist, plucking the picture from her grasp, setting it back down uncaringly. "Out of state. You don't need to worry about them." With the arm still around her, he lead Kira out of the living room and upstairs.
"Hey, did I ever get your name?" He asked quietly. His mouth was too close to her face, and she had to hold back a grimace from the smell of vodka.
"Lily." She turned her face slightly away from him. "You remember my age though, right?"
His face snarled a bit and the grip around her tightened. "Of course, do you think I'm stupid?"
"No." She spat. "I think more people would be careful about taking home a 16 year old with them."
"Hey, you said yes, and I said yes. Nothing else matters."
Kira made sure he couldn't see her roll her eyes. Luckily they made it upstairs and he was no longer in the mood for talking. He led them into a large bedroom, and locked the door behind him.
Kira turned on a lamp, and grinned. "Turn around for this part, trust me. You'll have a better time." She went to take over her coat.
He grinned wolfishly and did as instructed. "This better be worth it. I'm not risking prison for something half-assed, especially when you might go to school with my kid-" He stopped talking when Kira dragged a knife across his throat and jumped back, letting him fall to the ground as he bled.
"I have something to confess." Kira grabbed the bed sheet and wiped the blood on it, careful not to get it on herself. "My name isn't Lily, and I'm not actually a brunette." She pulled on her wig a bit. "Good news, I am actually 16 though, that's something going for you."
Kira pulled a card out of her purse and left it on the nightstand. It read 'One More Predator Down!'. She looked at the man bleeding out on the floor and smiled. "God, I love my job."
Title: One More Down (wip title)
Genre: Mainly Thriller
Age Range: Maybe 16+
Word Count: 463
Author Name: Melpomene Leblanc (alias but still)
Why Good Fit: I'm not sure what you're looking for, but this is not a boring story
Hook: Local Gay Teenager kills pedos
Synopsis: Kira realizes her town is filled with predator's and worry's for her friends safety. Of course she has to do something about it.
Target Audience: People who like gore and things that make you think about out society
Education: High school
Writing style: Usually dark, lgbtq+ or both.
I'm going into my final year of high school this fall.
Fact About Myself
I didn't realize it until tonight, while baking muffins.
I was stirring the batter as the oven finally hit 400°F, and was thinking about how when I was younger I would use a baking mit to also put the pans in, not only take them out.
I can't recall when I stopped. But I only use them to take them out of the oven.
At first I assumed I did it out of laziness. That is not correct. The reason I stopped is because I stopped caring if I got burned.
I've been burned three times in my life while younger, twice while baking and once because of my own ignorance. I didn't want to accidentally burn myself while putting anything in.
But now I don't care if I get burned.
My own personal hell is humanity
The way the touch and talk
Burns my flesh and organs
I rather be outlined in chalk
I have my own silver bullet
But everyone holds it out of my hand
Take pity and end the poor wolf girls life
Before the bites I violently take land
I want to spread the infection but they're all immune
I hope they get staked in the heart
Because they won't shut up or go away
This bullshit is tearing me apart.
DISCLAIMER: The young girl who owns this account is a walking caution sign. Discretion is advised, and we recommend you read this carefully and take it to your advantage.
• She has mood swings sometimes, even the slightest thing may put her in a bad mood, such as shitty people in the internet or forced human interaction (NOTE: This also works the other, albeit less often. Memes and baked goods can often make her happy!).
• Although this may sound odd with the first statement, the account user can be rather apathetic as well. She means no harm, but keep that in mind.
• [ERROR 404, DISCLAIMER NOT FOUND]
• The girl is a big fan of horror, basically all types! Gore and psychological horror may often be brought up, the girl means no harm.
• Be on the lookout for future disclaimers! You never know what will happen.
not just one time
Most of the time when I hang out with friends. I always laugh, smile, tell jokes and stories. But I usually just feel empty inside. I just feel the mood from the others and go along with it. They don't usually notice, but I prefer it that way.
Murder Time With Friends
Kali laughed as she regarded the terrified faces of her friends. "Why are you guys making faces? You look stupid."
Caleb was the one who took a slight step toward her and pointed at her. "You're covered in blood," He gestured to the bodies on the floor. "Their blood, more specifically."
She wiped her hand against her cheek and saw red. "Oh. " Kali brushed the hand against her skirt and a grin. "I didn't want it to get messy." She walked in front of Helena and stopped, before taking a glasses cloth out, cleaning blood off her friend's cheek.
(The Goldfinch - Carel Fabritius)
It's a pretty little bird
Who sits all brave and tall
Loud in every way except for words
Like a bird who never falls
Look close and see the bird in chains
Not fighting, resigned to it's fate
The thin golden chain isn't visibly seen
So the bird just sits and waits