All of my personal life posts are private, but if you want to follow along with my action-packed life (sarcasm) then feel free to friend me, because I shall friend back! :D New friends are fun, and what's life without a little fun? Eh? Ehhh? Ehhhh? Wink wink. Nudge nudge.
Otherwise everything else on here is public so you may enjoy at your leisure. Although as of now I have nothing because I'm just that cool.
No, really. You think I'm being sarcastic but I'm actually serious.
Rating: PG-13 for adult concepts
Summary: Jessica, a struggling journalist, thinks she's met the perfect man in Michael Smith. He's kind, charming, and everything Jessica could ever ask for. And she'll do anything in her power to keep him for herself.
Notes: The summary does not do the story justice. Believe me. On a side note, this whole thing is fourteen "mini-parts," but I've decided to post it into two huge parts. I'm still in the process of editing and I plan on getting this published one day.
Important: Everything here takes place in the year 2011 and is told in a nonlinear narrative.
I own everything here!!! bahahaha.
1. Thursday, February 17th
'He's coming,' the voice whispers urgently. 'You have to run!'
'He's going to kill me!' she all but shrieks, panic lacing her voice. A sob threatens to tear through her throat and she looks around wildly, trying to catch a glimpse of him, of his pale blue eyes and his wicked smile.
The streets are crowded with people. Bright lights from the various shops and buildings splatter the cloudy sky with an eerie glow, casting harsh shadows on the city below.
Black and white paper cutouts fill the monochromatic world – too sharp, too clean to be real. They bustle past each other, white on white, black on black. They're melting into each other, they're moving so fast they've become one being, one faceless figure making his way back home.
And then, amidst the black and white and the buzzing static of noise, she sees him. His lanky body is slouched against the brick wall and his dimples are showing. His blue eyes - so, so, so blue – are staring straight at her.
She gasps and tries to inhale, only to feel her windpipe constricting. Arms flailing, she tries to motion for someone to help her. No one moves; no one so much as looks at her.
‘Run,' the disembodied voice repeats. 'He's coming.'
Hands and voices. They're cackling with mirth, the hands are everywhere. She tells them to stop, pleads for them to stop, but they will stop at nothing to tear her apart and leave her lying in the streets.
She opens her eyes and they're gone. But the world is off-kilter, as if it were a picture frame that someone had just deliberately made crooked. She's standing by herself as people swarm past her, completely unaware of the turmoil that she's in. Her eyes search the streets, but the man has disappeared. She breathes a sigh of relief and turns around.
'Hello, Jessica,' says the man who's been following her for the last two weeks. He's all dimples and boyish charm.
But she knows better. His name is Lance, and he wants to kill her.
She doesn't shake his proffered hand, but he seems unfazed and reaches up to run it through his hair.
'What do you want?' she demands.
The man cocks his head to the side. 'I thought it was obvious.'
Jessica swallows a lump down her throat. 'What do you want?' she asks again.
The man flashes a smile. 'You.'
She breathes out a hysterical laugh. 'You can't kill me here in front of all these people! You'd be dead before you could even take two steps.'
He looks genuinely confused. 'Why would I want to kill you?'
'What seems to be the problem?'
‘I’m reporting a murder,' she says. The phone is slippery in her clammy hands and she presses it between her ear and shoulder to wipe her palms on her jeans. Her eyes dart nervously from the window to her bedroom door.
'He's killed someone – I can see it from my window,' she babbles. 'You have to come here now, he's getting away!'
'Miss, slow down, did you say you were reporting a – '
'He's killed someone and he's coming after me!' she shrieks into the phone. 'He just saw me and now he's walking in my direction and oh my god he has a gun!'
'Miss - '
The phone lands on the other side of the room and shatters completely. She crouches down to the floor and crawls across her room to lock the door.
He's going to kill Daisy when he gets here. He's going to kill you when he gets here.
She crawls back and sneaks a glance out the window again. The man is gone, and so is the body.
She falls to the floor and tries to remember how to breathe.
Jessica points an accusing finger at him. 'How should I know what serial killers like you think? Why am I even talking to you right now? I’m calling the police!' She scrambles through her purse for her cell phone.
'No, wait!' Lance – the man, don’t humanize the villain – sounds alarmed, Jessica notes with vicious satisfaction, but she doesn't hesitate in dialing 9-1-1.
'Stop it, Jessica,' the man warns. His voice has taken on a dangerous edge. 'Do you remember what happened the last time you called the police?'
Her thumb hovers over the call button on her phone. 'How do you know that?'
'I know everything you know.' His hands are in his pockets – the picture of nonchalance – but his gaze is still fixed warily on the device in her hands.
Jessica lowers her phone, noting vaguely that the throng of people around them is leering at the two of them. A group of girls walking by is whispering and giggling at her, and she immediately feels self-conscious.
They’re after you too, she thinks. They’re all working together!
'If you're not going to kill me then why are you following me?' she asks, turning back to face him. Everyone is watching them. Their eyes are drilling holes into her skull.
'Who says you're not following me?' he counters. 'For all I know you could be the serial killer.'
A man carrying a briefcase makes eye contact with her and sends her a glare. Jessica flinches and tries to refocus on what the man is saying.
‘I...' She trails off in confusion and looks around wildly. 'Hello?' she calls out, drawing perplexed looks in her direction.
'Where did he go?' the voice asks urgently. 'Do you know where he might have gone?'
‘I,' Jessica answers, 'I don’t know.'
( 2. Friday, May 20th )
This is just a little list I'm keeping for myself so I can kick my ass into action, since it's almost summer and whatnot. (Also I'm notorious for not finishing the stuff that I start and I want to change that)
Indigo's Mid-year's Resolutions:
(in no particular order)
1. Blog more (I have one, might as well use it)
2. Write more (includes fan fiction and original content)
3. Work out more (BIKINI SEASON IS HEREEE)
4. Be more driven/focused on school
5. Draw more
That should be a good enough list that I'm wiling to commit to.
NO COPYRIGHT INFRINGEMENT INTENDED! please don't sue me
Ghost in the Machine:
so i grab my bags and go
I really don't have anything else to say.
Look a baby wolf!
Oh my goodness I can't believe I'm already on chapter four. Anyway, here's a little preview:
+++++ this is supposed to be a line break +++++++
“Freddie? Sam? Is everything all right?” Carly’s worried voice drifts down the hallway.
“She thinks she has cholera,” Freddie says dryly.
“Sam.” Carly crouches down in front of me. “When was the last time you ate anything?”
I open my mouth to fire back a snappish retort, but then it hits me. I gape at my best friend. Ladies and gentlemen, Sam Puckett’s impression of a dying goldfish.
“I can’t remember,” I whisper, suddenly feeling dizzy and out of place. I start to panic. “Carly! I can’t remember the last time I ate! This is unacceptable – I need meat, Carly,” I tell her desperately. I would be clinging on to the front of her shirt if I weren’t still trying to remember when my last meal was.
Carly sighs in exasperation, but I can see a hint of fondness in her expression. “I thought so,” she says with conviction. “Freddie, there’s a pound of beef jerky in the cabinet above the refrigerator.”
“I’m on it,” he says immediately. I rolled my eyes. He is so whipped.
Carly turned towards me with a goofy smile playing on her lips. I narrow my gaze at her, wondering if I had just imagined the slightly predatory smirk that had appeared just moments before.
“He’s perfect, S,” she gushes in a whisper. “Did you know that he’s the CEO of the Pear Company? He invented the MoodFace app for the Pear Phone and he’s produced a couple of web shows!”
I offer her what I hope is an encouraging smile. She seems to buy it, because she continues to blather on and on about his accomplishments and how rich he is. “He bought me a Swarovski necklace yesterday! I couldn’t show you because – you – you know…But it’s gorgeous–”
“Talking about me, Carly?” Freddie suddenly appears in my line of vision holding – I suck in a deep breath.
Carly beams up at Freddie. She’s about to say something but I’m pushing past her and lunging for the bag of beef jerky. Freddie lets out a startled yell and takes a few steps back. I end up crashing into his legs and tackling him to the ground. I ignore Carly’s shocked cries and triumphantly yank the beef jerky out of Freddie’s limp hands. I savagely tear through the flimsy plastic bag and shove the delicious meat into my mouth.
I’m not too ashamed to admit that I may have had a tiny orgasm.
I feel my eyes roll back into my head. “Oh god, yes!” I moan, throwing my head back in pleasure. “Oh yeah…oh yes! Oh god that is so good. Oh…yeah!”
“Sam?” Carly says timidly.
+ We are only human - we aren't perfect, and we are bound to make mistakes at some point in time. The hard part is looking past the mistakes and becoming stronger because of it.
+ Tired is mental.
+ Communication is key. If people cannot communicate with each other, more problems arise and none are solved.
+ We are only as strong as our weakest link. If one person goes down, the whole team goes down.
+ Don't dwell on the past - look at it as a stepping stone to grow and move past it.
+ Actions speak louder than words.
+ Results won't come unless we work hard for it.
+ Whatever we get is what we deserve.
+ Take responsibility for your actions. Don't hide behind your pride and not apologize for something you did.
+ Be supportive - it motivates your teammates and yourself.
+ If you have a goal, work hard to achieve it. Don't just sit there and expect it to come to you.
I'm mainly adding this entry as a "testing" sort of thing since I've never used LiveJournal and whatnot (except for Blogger, but its very different). Also I'm probably mostly going to be using this to post any stories I have laying around or am currently writing, and maybe some tidbits about my personal life. We'll see.
Anywho, that's all I have to say for now. Except that I can now brag that I am beast at Big Two. Bahaha. Oh, and champagne gives me a headache. Boo.