




The Apartment
g2 (la pianista irlandesa)
2008-11-09T14:05:29Z
ID: 45720
Prequels: 45719

Sequels: 45722


The apartment was nice, for its size. A bookcase lined one wall, crammed with hundreds of volumes, files, and notebooks. A few small crates had been converted into a filing system of some sort, filled to the brim with papers, clippings, and who knows what else.
A nearby table was cluttered with pages of scribbled diagrams and figures, alongside contraption of a singular sort. A mismatched set of chairs sat facing a small fireplace. A harmonica sat glinting on the mantlepiece.
“Make yourself comfortable,” Sheila said carelessly, but still studying me intently with those penetrating brown eyes. “Your bedroom’s down on the far right, in the corner. I expect your things are outside?”
I nodded.
“Well, I suggest you move them inside; one never knows what neighbors will do. Here, I’ll help you.”
“Thanks, but they’re all really heavy...”
“Nonsense! I insist.”
The ease with which she picked up two of my jammed suitcases nearly put me to shame.


On Her Own
lovinglife307
2008-11-09T14:10:25Z
ID: 45721
Prequels: none

Sequels: 45789


Hello Marie.
What was that? I looked around me feverishly. No one called me Marie anymore. My mum was the only person to-
Have you missed me?
I spun around, certain the voice was coming from behind me. All I saw was blackness. I shivered, sure something was crawling up my spine.
I’ve missed you.
I felt a hand grab my shoulder, and then suddenly-
“Next stop Bloomfield, New Jersey.”
“Ohh...” I sat up, rubbing my eyes with the palms of my hands. I was so tired. I had a right to be tired.
I had just traveled about two hundred and sixty miles, for approximately four and a half hours across the bottom of New Hampshire, through Massachusetts, Connecticut, part of Pennsylvania and now finally I was arriving in New Jersey.
I was so tired, I almost considered going back to sleep, but I remembered I had to get off soon.
Wait, why should I get off? I’ve come this far, I should just keep going.
Oh, no you don’t. We’re here for a reason. Remember Grandma Rosalie.
I remember. I could never forget.


Deductions, Deductions
g2 (la pianista irlandesa)
2008-11-09T14:24:52Z
ID: 45722
Prequels: 45720

Sequels: 45734


“I trust you had a safe flight, dismal as the airline was?” I nodded. “How can you tell that?” “I could tell the moment you walked in. Not only was the dust on your shoes suggestive, but you smell faintly of jet fuel & inferior peanuts. That, & your boarding pass is sticking out of your pocket with the airline’s name facing out.” I laughed. “Was it really that easy?” “Of course.” “Can you tell anything else?” She studied me intently once more. I’d have to get used to that. “Well, you’ve been well off; have been walking a great deal as of late; are a frequent writer and are a lefty. That’s all I can tell.” I nearly fell out of my chair. “How...?” “Not many ‘lower’ people, including myself, going around wearing a Rolex like that. I could see your shoes have been worn a few milimeters, but the canvas is fairly new. As far as the writing goes, you’ve a considerable amout of ink & graphite on the side of your left hand.” “You’re a genius!” I cried. She shook her head & smiled. “Deductions, my friend.”


Serenity in the Music
lovinglife307
2008-11-09T15:09:51Z
ID: 45723
Prequels: 45700

Sequels: none


“Hey.” A girl, sixteen years old, with masses of bright red hair and big gray eyes opened the door. She snapped her gum, leaning comfortably against the doorway. Loud music sounded from inside.
“Hey, Beth.” I walked up the pathway and into Beth’s mansion of a house, pulling at my camisole nervously. Was I ever going to get over being around her? I held in a sigh. Probably not.
“Everyone’s downstairs. Get yourself a beer.” Beth pointed down the stairs, to where the music was blasting from. I strode over to the opening. I looked back over my shoulder, seeing if she was coming, but Beth was already on the couch, absorbed with a cute junior. I sighed, out loud this time. She didn’t notice.
I descended the stairs quickly. I couldn’t wait to just let go. I was always the life of the party after a few beers. Plus, I didn’t feel any pain of any sort when I was at these loud parties. It was funny actually. I found serenity in the booming music.


Regular Routines
lovinglife307
2008-11-09T15:18:34Z
ID: 45724
Prequels: 45646

Sequels: none


I was floating on a cloud. I was sure of it.
There was nothing under me, nothing over me, and nothing around me. Nothing anywhere. I sighed happily. I didn’t want it to stop.
The report wasn’t hard, I had already read the book, and so I just jotted down a few notes for him. He told me he would finish it later.
We kissed more, sitting there, side by side on the couch. We really got into it, pushing my hands through his hair, his hands all over me. He pushed his hand under the edge of my shirt, and I didn’t notice until his cool hands touched my chest.
I pulled away abruptly, jerking upright.
“What are you doing?”
“Oh, c’mon Cassie. You know you want it.”
“Um, no, I do not.”
He grabbed my wrist and pulled me back down on top of him. I jerked away. “Stop it Matt!”
He kissed my sloppily on my neck, as I tried to throw myself off him. I jerked free and ran. I just ran. I didn’t know where. I just needed to get away.


Evelyn Might
THX 0477
2008-11-09T15:31:02Z
ID: 45725
Prequels: 45667

Sequels: none


“Good,” came a disembodied voice from deep in several shadows at once.
“Great,” I countered. Rather than really engage, I tried to take better stock of the situation. Brian was conscious but totally out of it, the poor guy. His technical expertise had been invaluable in the past weeks, but he just didn’t have the stomach for the rough stuff. Evelyn was...
“You know what we want,” interrupted the voice, booming and echoing through the stark environment of the industrial complex. It had seemed like such a great base of operations at the time.
I hate when they say that, I thought, I never know what they want.
“Yeah, sure,” I tossed back into the shadows carelessly, “but let’s pretend I don’t.” If only I could keep them talking long enough for Evelyn to wake up, then she might...well, she might...
“The device, Mr. Red.”
“And I suppose you expect me to just hand it over?” That was actually quite unlikely, since I had no idea which device they meant.
We had a lot of devices.


Bonfire
XxjerseyxgirlxX
2008-11-09T17:18:21Z
ID: 45726
Prequels: none

Sequels: none


The group started to get up, walking to their cars that awaited them in the parking lot. One by one, they got up from their spot on the sandallowing their eyes to leave the fire,letting it burn out by itself.
Two people were left, in their winter coats and denim jeans, sitting, watching the fire die out...Only three cars were left in the lot. A girl yelled, catching their attention. They looked at each other and got up, wiping the sand from their legs. The walked off the beach together, arms linked, as the last car pulled away.
The boy walked the girl to her car. Silence. Before she stepped inside, she looked into his dark blue eyes, and said goodbye.
He stepped away as the car backed up. He jumped in his own car and turned the engine on.
As he turned away from the beach, he saw the last flame of the fire, what used to be so huge he was afraid they wouldn’t be able to put it out, go away forever.


Bonfire
XxjerseyxgirlxX
2008-11-09T17:19:10Z
ID: 45727
Prequels: none

Sequels: none


The group started to get up, walking to their cars that awaited them in the parking lot. One by one, they got up from
their spot on the sandallowing their eyes to leave the fire,letting it burn out by itself. Two people were left, in
their winter coats and denim jeans, sitting, watching the fire die out...Only three cars were left in the lot. A girl
yelled, catching their attention. They looked at each other and got up, wiping the sand from their legs. The walked off
the beach together, arms linked, as the last car pulled away. The boy walked the girl to her car. Silence. Before she
stepped inside, she looked into his dark blue eyes, and said goodbye. He stepped away as the car backed up. He jumped in
his own car and turned the engine on. As he turned away from the beach, he saw the last flame of the fire, what used to
be so huge he was afraid they wouldn’t be able to put it out, go away forever.


Getting Lucky
K
2008-11-09T17:28:10Z
ID: 45728
Prequels: none

Sequels: none


You rub her back as she sniffles, tears soaking into your hoodie. "I hope you're enjoying junior year while it lasts,"
she mumbles bitterly, pulling out of your embrace. Her eyes are rimmed red, with dark bags under them, testifying her
exhaustion. "I should be doing my God damn English homework." Her hands dance in mid-air, looking for where she left her
pen and paper before her breakdown interlude.

"You should be sleeping,” you tell her, pushing strands of blonde hair
away from her face. You let your finger tips play across her features, traveling from tear stained cheeks up to heavy
eyelids.

"Is my lazy eye getting googly?" she asks, half a smile gracing her face.

"A little," you respond with a grin.

"No wonder I see six of you," she teases. "And here I thought I was just getting lucky."


Copy Ficlet Challenge
Wyatt Aapr
2008-11-09T18:00:26Z
ID: 45729
Prequels: none

Sequels: none


I’ve somehow managed to write 225 ficlets, to me it’s amazing. To thoses of you that have written 3, 4 and 500 ficlets or more it’s small potatoes. However, I’ll throw out a Challenge. My last one drew so few writers I didn’t pick a winner. Maybe this one will do better.
The Challenge is to write a sequel to another writers ficlet. But, not to anyone you have sequeled before, and it has to be a ficlet that has not been sequeled. Enclude the original ficlet name in your sequel.
Good Luck, and have fun. I will pick a winner on Nov. 27th (my birthday)


Prose of Priscilla, Poetry of Paralee
SaveTheUnicorns
2008-11-09T18:00:48Z
ID: 45730
Prequels: none

Sequels: none


If middle school was a kingdom, then Priscilla would surely be the queen. She was tall, graceful, pretty, and interacted well with people. She wore stylish, trendy clothes, and was the one that people strived to please. Priscilla was adored by the teachers, and she knew how to get what she wanted. Though she acted kindly and refrained from malicious acts of meaness most of the time, she still had a slice of vanity in her essence. She didn’t quite fancy the idea of spending time with anyone deemed unpopular or stupid. Occasionally, she would volunteer her time for charity, but she didn’t work the hardest. Yet whenever she did even the slightest good deed, a newspaper reporter always happened to be around. Despite the fact that she was deemed an intelligent beauty by many, and as much as she was one, the amazing truth still stood. As much as it appeared, she wasn’t the greatest, or the purest, prettiest, or bravest. There was another who was all of this and so much more. Someday, all would see this.


Cocooned
Stovohobo
2008-11-09T18:04:41Z
ID: 45731
Prequels: 45697

Sequels: 45737


Contoured metallic parts glided and folded out over me, emerging from the wall and pushing me back in with them. The android’s face was lost as I was suddenly plunged into darkness.
I screamed. I screamed for all I was worth, claustrophobia rampaging in my stomach like a terrified bull. My arms and legs vibrated, struggling like crazy to get free.
A voice, genderless and robotic, suddenly filled my head. “Do nOt mO-ove. Ana-LYzing i-in  THREE -e,  TWO -oo,  WUH -un.” A sharp blade of light blinded me for a split second, then moved down the rest of my body. I could see I was totally encased in metal. Claustrophobia started welling up again.
The bar of blue light retracted into the front of my shell, and with a sudden lurch, the pod hurtled upward. I was being shot to the top of the building, racing through its walls. It was all one gigantic machine.
Suddenly it stopped, and I had the sense I was very, very high up.


Stay For the Weekend
K
2008-11-09T18:09:26Z
ID: 45732
Prequels: none

Sequels: 45740


She ducks into your car, followed by a cloud of perfume and a burst of autumn air. “Hi!” she chirps, reaching across the center console to wrap her arms around your neck. Her blonde curls tickle at your face and you smile into her neck. In reality, you saw her two weeks ago, but it feels longer. You needed this- orange leaves and winding roads, the sound of her voice and the radio humming softly in the back of the car. You both take deep breaths, and you are off; scenery rolls by as the two of you chat endlessly. She laughs at your drunken tales and you roll your eyes at the boys who do not realize they are lucky to have her around. “One day, I’ll find someone,” she sighs. If only she realized that she does not have to look very far....


You Can't Run on Crutches
Wyatt Aapr
2008-11-09T18:33:03Z
ID: 45733
Prequels: 45714

Sequels: 47466


Mable was the prettiest soiled dove at the Longhorn, so naturally Archie wanted to see what her bloomers looked like. He couldn’t afford anything else she might have to offer, but lookin’ at her bloomers was free.
Archie picked up his crutch, and slowly and carefully, followed Wilber down the alley. They had to maneuver around the small pile of broken rail pieces. Wilber looked up and pointed to the landings broken rail,”Someone aught a fix that afor someone gets hurt.”
Archie mumbled, “Idiot.”
As they grew closer, they could see some lacy undies flapping in the breeze. “Would you look at that,” said Wilber.
Indeed, the colorful undies were a sight to behold. There were six pairs of panties, pink, red, black, purple, white with frilly lace and yellow.
“Archie, let’s steal us a pair,” Wilber said as he overturned an empty whiskey barrel, climbed up and yanked two pairs of panties from the line.“Here Archie, stick these in your pocket.” Then a voice called out, “Stop Thief!” Wilber ran.


Profession
g2 (la pianista irlandesa)
2008-11-09T18:38:52Z
ID: 45734
Prequels: 45722

Sequels: 45885


“Deductions?” “Of course. It is one thing to see, it is another entirely to deduce. One must be bold in deductions, must not be afraid of being wrong.” “But, if one is wrong?” She shrugged. “Scrap it & start over. But one always must first observe & gather the facts, then draw conclusions. Going in the other direction always bends facts to theories, & it always becomes distorted.” Her face scrunched at the very thought. I would’ve continued, but an odd, siren noise rang out.“Oh!” Sheila exclaimed, reaching for her black Alias. “A client, probably.” “Client?” “Oh, yes. You see, I like to keep my mind busy with small problems, & people will come to me for advice.” “Like a detective?” She shot me a look. “I’m not associated with the official police. Huge difference between the two.” She turned back to her phone. “Ah yes, someone’s on his way over.” “I should probably not intrude...” I started to get up.“Nonsense! If anything you’ll be a help! But no matter now, because here comes our client.”


Him and I
OMGitsBeckii
2008-11-09T19:01:39Z
ID: 45735
Prequels: none

Sequels: none


I am looking into the eyes of my friend. The one thing that cheers me up when I am sad. The thing I forgive when he does things that are bad. The thing I will love until the end. My dog, my friend. ~THE  END  ~


(Serial Killer Challenge) Curtains For Kitty
Kermitgorf
2008-11-09T19:05:24Z
ID: 45736
Prequels: 45717

Sequels: none


A maniacal laugh seemed so clichÃ©, but that is exactly what Cesar did as he stood before Millicent and her children, holding their kitten in his beefy hands.
"One twist is all it will take, so tell me, what's it gonna be?" Cesar said, "Tell your old pal Cesar where your old man is, or it's curtains for Kitty."
The girls cried. Their mother looked with contempt upon the loathsome slime bag holding their kitten.
The kitten would have to die before she would tell him where her husband was hiding.
He would threaten the girls next, she knew.
"Lady, your hubby saw me kill that last girl in the park. I watched him as he held her hand as she died. I know he saw me. He can identify me lady, I simply cannot allow that to happen. I will snap your daughters necks like little twigs," Casar said as he broke the neck of the kitten, it whimpered softly and went slack in his calloused hands.
He picked up the youngest child by the scruff of her neck and said, " Now tell me where he is."


Mental Coaching
g2 (la pianista irlandesa)
2008-11-09T19:06:04Z
ID: 45737
Prequels: 45731

Sequels: 45743


I couldn’t see anything, I was awaiting the pit of my stomach to return. Everything happened so fast. Lining up angry wasps would’ve been easier.
I had no idea what was in store for me. The “man” had mentioned “programming.” What the heck did that mean? Was I going to be turned inside out? Was I going to be brainwashed? This felt like a science project gone wrong.
Horridly, horridly wrong.
Get a hold of yourself, Carter! one of my many internal voices yelled. You’ll go crazy before anything’s happened to you!
What does it matter? I tried to argue back.
Oh, it matters. You wanna keep your wits about you if they try to pull a fast one on you. You’ve made it three days, right? You survived the ‘before’ stages, right? You can survive now, just keep it together, man!
I nodded resolutely to no one in particular. But how was I going to keep it together?
I began murmuring under my breath, “Always look on the bright side of life.“
I didn’t have too long to perk myself up. I heard metal doors opening.


oh.
band geek
2008-11-09T19:11:34Z
ID: 45738
Prequels: 45706

Sequels: 45741


We both laughed, and then stopped. An awkward silence filled the air, until I said, "What I can do, what you can do -- I think they are related somehow."
"What?"
"I mean, I can make other things move, you can make yourself move. Same action, different things."
He thought for a minute. "Yeah, you're right. That makes sense."
We both went quiet, then he said, "Have you always been -- you know, blind?"
"Yes."
"Oh."
'Oh' seemed to be his response to many things. I asked myself why I was even talking to him, why I'd even talked to him in the first place.
I didn't really have a reason.
Maybe we did have a connection, maybe our abilities were similar. Before today, I hadn't even known other people could do things like this.
How many more people out there had these ‘abilities’? If there was us, there were more. There had to be more.


The Acquaintance
Music-Hearted
2008-11-09T19:13:52Z
ID: 45739
Prequels: none

Sequels: 45742


I didn’t really know Andrew Gail, and I guess I never will.
We went to elementary school together, actually. Albertson-Penny Elementary. He always seemed nice enough. I mean, he was kind of a jock, a student-council type, and that’s not really my scene, but it’s not like I wanted him to die.
Did I ever talk to him? Well, I guess. I think we worked on a project together once. Look, I’m the girl who plays piano for the choir concerts, and he was the one who the school practically made their poster child. We weren’t exactly of the same world.
I guess the poor guy got caught up in the high school experience. Who could’ve seen it coming, though? Andrew Gail goes home one Friday night after the football game and blows his head off. That’s one hell of a twist.


Grey
K
2008-11-09T19:15:43Z
ID: 45740
Prequels: 45732

Sequels: 45783


When you return to the city one boring train ride later, it is stifling. The greyness if overwhelming; you should have known you would experience withdrawls from the color of home. You run to Starbucks to grab a Pumpkin Spice latte before delving into piles of schoolwork. Procrastination always was your forte. Your roommate drags you from the room after what feels like an eternity with promises of “booze and boobs.” You roll your eyes but willingly oblige; your term paper is not moving any further tonight. One drink too many finds you fumbling around in the dark with the leggy brunette from three floors up. In the blackness that is her dorm room, all you can see is the whites of her eyes. Your mind flits to the blonde; she is most likely sleeping at this hour. You should be sleeping too, but you’re too busy trying to find the colors of the city.
You wake to another grey morning. Nothing matches the color of home.


wrong.
band geek
2008-11-09T19:17:26Z
ID: 45741
Prequels: 45738

Sequels: 45755


"So are they going to fix it?" he asked.
"I doubt it. They've said they could fix it before; never worked."
"Do you know what they're trying this time?"
"No -- they didn't exactly explain it. They just said people on Earth are interested in my ability.. and they might be able to fix it."
"Oh."
I stopped tapping the wall. The switch Karon told me about began taking effect, and I didn't have to hold myself down anymore. "So is anything wrong with you?"
"By wrong, you mean?"
"Like, I don't know, a side-effect. How I'm blind, you know."
"Not really. Things are going to be different for me, but nothing bad."
"Yeah.”
My clock announced, "1:00 PM. Lunch."
I knew the voice was going to get annoying after a while. "Hey, um, do you want me to show you the way?" Theo asked.
"No, I remember," I said, stepping into the hallway.
There was enough gravity so that now, I could walk without floating up into the air. I didn’t even know how they could create gravity in a spaceship.


The Friend
Music-Hearted
2008-11-09T19:40:33Z
ID: 45742
Prequels: 45739

Sequels: 45795


Me? I’m Bobby. Huh? Oh. Bobby Erickson. Yeah, I knew him. Didn’t everyone?
He was a good guy. Sophomore year, we were the only ones who made Varsity. He helped me out with Spanish and stuff. I dunno, it’s kind of weird to talk about him. None of the guys thought anything was wrong.
I mean, yeah, sometimes he would get all deep and stuff, you know? But, you know, we’d get a can of beer in him and go hang out with everyone else and then he seemed okay.
It’s weird now. Everyone’s trying to figure out what went wrong and crap. I dunno what to say. Yeah, if I knew he was messed up, I woulda said something. But Andy’s gone, and now we can’t do anything about it.


Subject IL45094:  Status:  Analyzed
Stovohobo
2008-11-09T19:54:59Z
ID: 45743
Prequels: 45737

Sequels: 45745


A vast domed room slid into view as the doors of my pod retracted. My restraints unlatched and popped me out, sending me sprawling on the marble floor.
I was in the very top room of the tower, almost one hundred-fifty floors from the ground. Arched windows surrounded me, showing me absolutely terrifying views of the rest of the city. To the left was the Sears Tower, that looked more like the size of my arm from this height. To the right was the Main Control building, where the computers where maintained and supervised. And I was in the Chicago Office Tower No.  US14 , the main hub for every Chicago-based company, where business workers would plug in every day (for the sake of the economy, some menial jobs were left to humans, but only about two percent).
I was pulled out of my daydreaming by another emotionless voice. “Subject  IL45094 : David Carter. Height: 6”2’. Age: 24. Pulse: elevated; normal.  RBMI : 22. Mentally and physically healthy.”
There was a whirring, then silence, and I was alone.


Remembering a Thank You
Dreamer
2008-11-09T20:17:03Z
ID: 45744
Prequels: 45445

Sequels: 45747


His fingers ran across the keyboard for a moment. He stared quietly at the screen for a moment, and then smiled, nodding to himself. I watched him move the mouse, saving the document and then clicking on internet explorer. I watched the screen switch to yahoo, and was silent as he sent whatever-it-was to himself. I examined his face in silence. There were deep bags beneath his eyes, and, as he turned to me, I could see how deeply worn he was from the lines on his face. With a jolt of shock, I realized he looked old.“Drew?” I whispered carefully. He stood up and walked toward me.“Thank you,” he croaked, his throat thick with exhaustion.“Sure thing,” I said, still whispering. Suddenly, in an unexpected movement, he hugged me. Shocked, I stood still for a moment and then hugged him back. What had happened last night?“Thank you,” he whispered again and I felt wetness as his eyes overflowed with tears. I realized that I was crying too. Cynthia had died at exactly seven this morning.


Mind Twistings
g2 (la pianista irlandesa)
2008-11-09T20:20:48Z
ID: 45745
Prequels: 45743

Sequels: 45750


It felt weird, being numbered like that.
Like I was just another thing.
Maybe I was just another unimportant thing. The world would go on spinning if I was gone.
I thought about the number the metallic voice gave me:  IL45094 .
I began twisting it in my mind, to occupy myself: I’ll for five o’ nine fours... For nine or five, four lies... ill too, to for-ti-five forty nine isles...
When others were around, & I began spouting weird combinations of things like that, I’d get sidelong glances, raised eyebrows, contorted expressions.
But now, it didn’t matter.
My mind-twistings became verbal, ringing coldly off the windows. I spun in a giddy circle, for a moment completely oblivious to my situation. Until I heard sliding metal again. I dropped to the floor, dizzy. The man who’d apprehended me scurried in, a long tape of figures in his hand.
“Do that again.”
My brow furrowed in confusion. “What, spin in a circle?”
He shook his head. “No no, before that. With the numbers. We’ve never seen anything like it.”


Stovohobo's Ficlet Challenge the Fifth...No, Sixth?  Something.  Anyway, It's About Your Tag Cloud.
Stovohobo
2008-11-09T20:27:03Z
ID: 45746
Prequels: none

Sequels: 45772
45939
46160
46354
46854


It’s been forever since I’ve done a challenge, and I think it’s about time that I started one up again. Okay, so: click
on the “home” button, then look at “Your Library”. You’ll see a spot labeled “tags.” If you’re like me, and you use a
fair amount of tags (or a fair amount of ficlets), you might have somewhere in the neighborhood of 2,500. Problem is,
the tag page only shows as many tags as it can hold (meaning, for me, just numbers and a’s). And for the sake of
characters, my list here can’t even go into the a’s: 1212 stories tagged with 131 story tagged with 19451 story tagged
with 2001 story tagged with 20011 story tagged with 31 story tagged with 3001 story tagged with 330891 story tagged with
3333 stories tagged with 4351 story tagged with 51 story tagged with 5-6 things1 story tagged with 6161 story tagged
with 666 Anyway, go onto that page and pick 7 tags. Then write your entry using those tags somewhere in the story.
Challenge ends on 12/1/08. This should be interesting...


Remembering Drew's Ending (Part 1)
Dreamer
2008-11-09T20:32:04Z
ID: 45747
Prequels: 45744

Sequels: 45748


My mom, naturally, was pretty freaked by the time we got back to Nebraska. But Paige was by my side the whole time,
helping me explain everything. And she stayed there for the rest of the year. Litterally. She was out of money because
of the two plane tickets (she insisted on paying Angela back) and she just couldn’t pay her morgage anymore. My mother
welcomed her into our household with open arms. Eventually, when I got up the nerve, I showed Paige my memories. She
cried alot, and held onto me as we sorted through them, putting them all in order. I began writing about when Paige came
into my life, and she helped, writing down her own memories. Paige never ceased to amaze me with her dogged
determination to get things done. Before I knew it, we had written a book. She still insists that it was all my doing,
but I know better. Sure, I may have written most of it, but Paige was the reason why it was fully completed, and why
it’s sitting in store windows.


Remembering Drew's Ending (Part 2)
Dreamer
2008-11-09T20:36:44Z
ID: 45748
Prequels: 45747

Sequels: 45749


It was strange, having people read something that was so personal. But soon, we began recieving the letters. Letters
from people all over the United States. Teenagers, largely, but also adults. They were people who had gone through
similar trials we had. Paige, being who she was, set up a website where you could send us personal stories, bios, etc,
or just talk to us and the other people about everything. She named the website after our book: Remembering. It seemed
appropriate. We are both attending Nebraska State (by some miracle I was accepted), and working on year three. As for
Paige, I’ve never had a closer friend. We connect on a level no one, I think, including me, will ever understand.
Through the years, I’ve managed to learn more about her past, and help her as she helped me. But that’s another story. I
don’t know what the future will bring, but I know now that I have the strength to face it. And I won’t be alone.


Remembering Paige's Ending (part 1)
Dreamer
2008-11-09T20:48:06Z
ID: 45749
Prequels: 45748

Sequels: 45751


There are several memories I wish I could share. So many happy times I spent with Drew as the years progressed from that
turbulent time in our Senior year. Sometimes it’s difficult to believe, as I look into Drew’s light face, that he was
ever that dark, depressed boy who wore nothing but black and listened to the same song over and over again. His
happiness continues to feed mine as we rebuild our lives. I don’t think he knows just how much he’s changed me. All he
ever talks about is how I’ve changed him. Sometimes, I admit, I wish we had that vibrant sort of romance my new college
friends rave about having. But then I don’t. I love Drew. I know that, and I’ve always known that ever since I found him
waiting for me Christmas Eve night. And I know Drew loves me, even if he doesn’t declare it constantly, or go out of his
way to make huge, public displays of it. Actually, a few of our friends don’t even know we’re dating. But none of this
matters, because all that does matter is that we are together.




