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Chapter 5- One For My Baby...And One For The RoadI look at the clock when I heard the seat creak. 11:06
2 hours, does it really take that long to write a journal?
He left and fell asleep by 11:15
Daisey...wonder what she's doing. I decided to leave, I'll check tomorrow for the journal over the guys I'm looking for.
I slipped out of the room and ran upstairs to my room. I walked in and saw Daisey snuggled up with her Teddy Bear, and her dinosaurs. She was shivering, so I put the sheets over her small body.
I used the bathroom real quick and drunk a dirty water, I don't want Daisey to have to drink it...so I choked down the water and heard my Pip Boy crackle again.
I laid on the couch and told ED-E goodnight. Something in his robotic body turned the lights off. I drifted asleep.
I threw my fish bucket angrily. I didn't get a single bite. I need to start using new bait. I picked my bucket up and walked toward my house.
"Hey Will!" A familiar deep vo
Chapter 4- Nipton to NovacI didn't get anymore sleep. When I woke up it was 3:41 a.m
It's now 7. I'm leaving at 9:00. I'm still tired...but I don't want another dream like that. I laid on my bed, making noises to keep me awake. I don't remember stopping, but I fell back asleep, I woke up at 8:20. Now it's time to get some supplies.
"Excuse me, Mr. Nash. I'm leaving soon and I was hoping if you could sell some water and food to me if you have any..." I asked as I walked in the Mojave Express building.
I saw an old eyebot on the counter and then I looked at the older man.
"Sure...I have 2 bottles of water. One purified and one dirty. Also we have a couple of boxes of Fancy Lads. I can give you these 4 items for 40 caps. Also, if you want...you can take a look at that robot." Nash said pushing the items over, I gave him the caps and took the items. I walked over to the robot and examined it.
"Can I borrow a screwdriver?" I asked, the eyebot had some screws lose, and it was needing another electric charge, maybe a
Chapter 3- Primm Chapter 3- Primm
I woke up. I fell out of the bed I lay in, grabbing my stomach. I reached for my medical bag. I opened it and grabbed a Med-X and a Stimpack.
I groaned and stuck myself with the needles. It took the edge off the pain. I fell to the ground, and I saw Mitchell coming in. He ran towards me and got me back on the bed. I fell asleep fast, again.
I don't think I can handle any more sleep. I need to leave, and find Benny, the man with the checkered coat, and make him pay for messing with me.
I woke up, it was the next day, Doc set out some water and Sugar Bombs for me. It was good, I haven't ate in awhile, and I am dehydrated from my injuries. I swapped out my leather armor and into my Vault 21 suit. My wound felt a little better, and I had to take another Med-X to make it stop hurting so much. I had the Doc made sure I wasn't addicted to it, I wasn't.
I left his house, after thanking him again. He gave me more medicine. I stopped at the bar to get a lot more water.
Fallout: New Vegas Story War, War never changes...
“Well...look who's awake...” A man said, standing above me...
Where was I? How did I get in this bed? Who's that man, and what has he done to me.
The sudden pain in my head felt like someone had pounded on it with a hammer. The pain caused me to moan.
“Why don't you relax a second. Get your bearings. You've been out cold for awhile now.”
Sitting up, I finally managed to ask, “How long is 'awhile'?”
“I'd say five days now...” The man said.
“Who are you, and why am I here? Hey, where are my clothes?! I swear if you did what I think-”
“I'm Doc Mitchell, you were shot in the head, I don't know much about that, you'd have to ask Victor, the one that dug you out of the grave. And well, your clothes were being washed..a lady took them out somewhere, probably the well. She hasn't returned
TWD: Road to Extinction: BreakAfter an hour or so a light rain began to fall.
“Come inside, we should make supper soon.” Dennis said.
Jade sighed, stood up, and gave a slight smile to Dennis.
The pair went inside and Dennis left Jade as he walked to the kitchen. He saw the kid and Jeff sitting at the table.
“Hey Mister...” The boy said, “I'm kind of hungry...do you have any food?”
“I've got plenty, and by the way, I'm Jeff, and this is Dennis.”
Dennis waved his hand slightly.
“I'm Sam, but my dad calls me Sammy.”
“Hey, I have a cousin named Sam!” Dennis exclaimed, trying to make the kid feel a bit more comfortable.
Jeff rose up from his chair and opened the refrigerator. “Pick what you want and I'll make it.”
Sam got up and opened the freezer behind him, one of those big ones, that isn't connected to a refrigerator and pulled out a pizza box. “Boy, I like pizza, two months ago- I think my momma said two months- for my seventh
VentI'm tired of the judging.
I am tired of the laughter.
I think it's a disaster
Everything I do.
You make fun
But don't you see
that you are worse than me?
I hate you
I know you aren't supposed to hate
that is what I've been told
after an action
there is a reaction
i fear the worst
i fear when the reaction occurs
i wont stop
there will one day be
THE WALKING DEAD: Road to Extinction Chapter 3A boy came out from the woods yelling, running away from two walkers.
Jeff ran to the boy and pointed to the house, Will sprinted to one of the walkers beside a tree and stabbed it in the head, then another walker came from behind the tree and it bit into his hand. “ERH!” Will smashed it's head into the tree. As Will killed the walker Jeff cut the head clean from the other walker.
“You alright?” Dennis asked Will
“That bastard bit me...”
“You'll be alright,” Jade reassured Will “lets get you cleaned up.”
They all went inside, Jade and Will went to the kitchen sink, and Dennis and Lee turned on the tv.
“Where's your parents son?” Jeff asked the boy.
“I—I don't know, those bad guys busted the window and got in my house. It looked like it was hugging my mom, and dad hit it, they told me to run.”
Dennis heard the boy and frowned. “Poor kid” he said under his breath.
Lee scooped up the remo
THE WALKING DEAD: Road to Extinction“AHHH” Lee screamed as he awoke from the crash.
“F*ck! Your leg, god! What the hell?” Dennis jumped up with a horrible headache and his arm felt like it had been hit several times.
“I...I'm so dizzy and drowsy” Lee whispered slurring his words.
Lee's leg was stuck in Dennis' seat, blood oozing out, cut up badly. They both wondered if he'd make it out alive.
“If- If I don't make i--”
“Shut up! I'm not going to leave you. I'll die with you, you're my best-friend. Just relax, I'll look around outside.”
Dennis opened his door and felt a great pain in his left arm. He jumped out and looked around to see if he knew anything about the area. The vehicle was on a train track, and wouldn't you know it, he heard a whistle of a train. “Man, I can't ever get a break.”
“What is it?!” Lee cried, knowing it was not something good.
It was around noon when they departed from the hospital, but now it was morning, maybe th
THE WALKING DEAD OC STORY.“Dennis! Come here, we need you to lift this patient and take her to the ER on the 13th floor. ASAP!!”
“What happened to her?”, Dennis asked feeling sick to his stomach. The girl had blood all over her and a deep bite mark on her neck. Dennis began coughing with a violent manner. He nodded and pushed the gurney to the elevator and punched in the number 13.
“Ugh, I hate this music...”, the elevator music was louder than usual, Dennis always wondered why they played the music, no one liked it. “BING” the elevator sounded when Dennis reached the 13th floor. He took the gurney and rolled it down to the doors of the ER. Dennis heard a moan type of noise. “Must of been somebody in there”, he thought to himself. Then in an instant the woman grabbed his arm and pulled it to her mouth. “WHAT THE HELL LADY?!” Dennis got his arm free and scooted back trying to grasp of what just happened. The woman got out of the gurney and s
A message to the brokenYou drown yourself
in liquid sorrows,
letting the salty mess
burn your wounds,
and the sadness
to drip in your mouth,
consuming your words
and you say
you deserve the pain,
but I want to dry your face,
and whisper in your ear
how the clouds cry too,
while they hold such beauty,
and so do you.
Pretty metaphors are for pretty girlsI told you to stop
spewing pretty metaphors at me,
for with each elaborate comparison,
I feel a bit more
detached from this world
And maybe I don’t feel so strong at the moment,
but would you be
if you felt like the entire universe
was resting upon your shoulders,
and someone was just there saying:
But you’re stronger than the powerful beats
of a butterfly’s wings
And maybe I do need more confidence,
but would you exuberate it
when the part you hated most about yourself
were the freckles that have speckled your face for years,
and someone was just there muttering:
They’re not flaws,
but rather stars that form constellations
Yes, I can’t help but hate
all those unrealistic metaphors
you choose to pelt at me when I’m low,
yet the irony is,
I know that those beautiful words
are realistic in your eyes,
So I can’t hate you.
Stand Against SuicideI know the pain is perhaps unbearable,
But darling, please put down the blade.
Release your emotions through tears and smiles,
Rather than dreading these days.
Do it for the little girl, whose mother can’t be there,
Or for the boy whose father drank too much.
For the boy who can’t sit in elementary school,
Because the bruises from Daddy hurt to touch.
For the teenage girl lying face down in her bed,
Thinking, why can’t it all be done?
For the elderly man looking up at the stars,
Counting the days one by one.
Do it for the children who wonder, does it end?
For the ones who feel left on their own.
For the ones who think, maybe it wouldn’t be so hard
If I didn’t feel so left alone.
And finally, do it for one other person,
The person in front of these words.
Because you’ll never know how it gets better
When focusing on pain and hurt.
Live one more day, dear, for them and for you,
And I swear to you, problems will fade.
I know, for right now, it’s p
dark circlesi haven't slept well in 14 days
my eyes droop pretty colors
'50 shades of purple and grey,
they're bags and they're designer'
making jokes is how i cope
with chapped lips and constant chap-stick
it tastes like honey and mint
i laugh and say i'm addicted.
hooded lids and sleepy smiles
during lunch at subway
my friends ask if I'm okay
I say that I'm just tired.
but really when I see him with her
my heart sinks to the tiles
she's pretty and witty and sure as hell she can sing
and i'm just a loud bone-collector.
when I see her with him,
dancing and laughing and grinning,
the ring on her finger
laughs at my singularity.
for as much as i lie and as much as i try
my loneliness still creeps in,
because no matter how much they protest,
i'm still the lowly fifth-wheel.
walking behind them on sidewalks
that are wide, but built for four
smiles and laughs when they look back
but the frown creeps evermore.
pelvis peaks through paper-thin skin
and knuckles white and pale
my ribs are empty, my bo
Clear WristA clear wrist, barren of scars,
as opposed to skin sauntered in marks,
tells a trickier story than it's soiled and raw,
uncaring, unkempt counter part.
Bravery, I think it holds,
the strength to bare unimaginable loads
of pain and suffering through endless times,
and withstanding the agony of sleepless nights.
Some think it is fear, the reluctance to cut,
but I believe it opposite, it show courage and guts.
To bear your pain without a nick on your wrist,
is like a solider braving his terrain while being torn limb from limb.
Agonizing as it is, to hide your pain,
you do it so well, and no attention you'll gain.
At the end of the day, it's not cry for attention,
rather a cry for the victory that's silently mentioned.
Your scars are those not self inflicted,
and despite the gnawing intention,
to harm yourself and ease your pain,
the scars you earn are rightfully gained.
In a room of those who have jumped the gun,
and left traces of blood deep in their arms,
do not be tempted to do the sam
Sandy Hook"You heard of the stories of the shooting in Sandy Hook Elementary, Newtown CT, and I am the father of one of the children, and a husband of one of the teachers, I stand here...one day later heart broken. The house is empty, yet I hear their voices....I hear them over and over again. They won't stop...telling me to come with them. I cried the whole night, not getting any sleep, the voices in my head getting louder, and my throat starting to close. I can barley breath now. I am writing this letter now to tell you all where I will be for now on. I'm not a coward, I am following my family that I cannot live without. As I put the gun to my head, I say my prayers and say 'I'm coming home'..." -Me.
These stories of the dark monsters of humanity make me sick. These people get off from prison because they are mentally ill. They need to be put down because of it. They are dangerous but people will never understand. It will happen, until we all crash.
I pray for all the people, that have went th
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