The next day

I hear a loud, screeching, “AAAAAAAAAAH” enough to make anyone jump up off the couch and see what’s going on. I turn and see Charlie, or at least I think it’s Charlie, on his butt at the bottom of the stairs. I run to him and crouch down.

“Are you alright, Charlie?”

He turns and stares at me wide-eyed, “So, what Carmilla was telling me was true. You did take me home.”

I smile at him, “Of course, how are you feeling?” He talks to his second self? Interesting.

Somewhere a branch cracked, the sound of tearing wood reverberating through Karl's brain. He rolled onto his back, groping the furs for Solacia, but found them empty. He cracked open one eyelid, to search further.

The meadow was bright, the grass rimmed with frost so thick, that the blades of grass looked like fingers. The black coals of the fire likewise rimmed in white. The pool where he had first seen his wife, was as still as silvered glass, reflecting a sapphire sky.

Alaric Stephens was riding his Harley Davidson 2009 model year Fatboy, having just entered the town of Silverhill, Texas and decided to pull into a restaurant and bar that reminded him somewhat of an old English pub with its heavy wooden beams and part wood, part stone walls.

He was a big, sturdy, muscular man, standing 6'2" in stocking feet, weighing about 205 pounds, with a medium brown crewcut. He was clad in a pair of heavy leather pants, a 3XL t-shirt with a picture of a Harley Davidson Fatboy on it, a zipped up worn leather jacket and combat boots.

A Blank Page
Chapter 18
By Flummox

Two weeks flew by since I came back to Hattiesburg. It’s also been two weeks since I last saw Charlie. I can’t get him off my mind. He reminds me of me when I was his age. I really hope he isn’t like me, but it seems like he is. Getting bullied just because he’s smaller and weaker. Because he isn’t well off as other people. Just thinking about the little guy being beaten because of what he can’t control, makes me furious.

“…Wow,” Lauren breathes as Ophelia and I step out of her bedroom, dressed in our elaborate costumes.

“Sure you’re wearing enough make-up?” Katie teases.

“Is it ever possible to wear too much make-up?” I ask as I preen and playfully flick my hair away from my face, which has been smeared in a bright white foundation and ‘enhanced’ with thick black eyeshadow, long (and heavy) fake eyelashes and thick black lipstick.

“Think you’re missing the words ‘at Halloween’ from the end of your question,” Katie asks.

“Does it change the answer?” I ask.

Synopsis:  Ashley Roberts had decided to embrace her female side and started on her journey into womanhood thanks to the support of her family. At the moment things seem perfect for our girl. She seems to have found a new direction in her life and is starting to see life through a whole new set of eyes. .

Hate, Hell, Hope & Halleluiah

Unloading some vile thoughts

‘Hateluiah’ was their song

Four somewhat linked pieces : mostly about the HATE that THEY spew at us for being ‘different’ in ways THEY say is unacceptable. When THEY do wrong things such as Abuse, Violence, Rape and Cruelty then they claim their misdeeds are somehow acceptable; when a man dresses as the opposite gender (while so many women do it without penalty) …. somehow this is wrong.

These pieces are labelled 'Z' to place them at the end of my stories.

There’s not much point in looking forward when everything has gone. I used to have a life I enjoyed, I felt worthwhile, even valued. But that was then. And this, this hateful now, is now.

Leigh Anne - Chapter 26
By Barbara Lynn Terry

Part 1 - The state semi-finals begin.

Image taken from MSU Tennis website
@ msutennis.msu.edu

(Disclaimer: Remember that this is fiction. All schools, students and staff mentioned have nothing to do with any real school of the same name, students or staff. This is strictly a work of fiction. Barbara Lynn Terry.)

Susannah couldn't believe what she was seeing in the bathroom near the back office and den. There was a fairly pretty, no beautiful, teenage white girl lying slumped against the bathtub and the toilet. A quick check led to Susannah assuming that the strange girl had fainted.

She stared at this girl that shouldn't be here for a few minutes, then noticed the girl seemed to be reviving from the apparent fainting spell.

Susannah glared at the girl and growled, "Just who in the heck are you? And how did you get into this house, you little tramp?"

Synopsis: As a young boy nineteen years ago, Cindy was the victim of a serial child molester. Now the man who did it is about to be released from prison. What does she intend to do about him; and how is she coping?

This is a stylistic change from my previous writings, a darker, leaner story. You've been warned! Parts of this story are autobiographical.

Story: This story deals with the continuing mental trauma of a victim of child molestation. While there are no depictions of child molestation, there are flashbacks that contain some details. If this sort of thing is upsetting to you, please do not read this story. All the people in this story are fictional, except for the sexual predator that started it all, may his soul rot in hell. KJT