Friday, December 18, 2009

A Letter

You've done more for me than you'll ever know.
No doubt God brought us together for a reason and I hope you realize how thankful I am for that.
Every time I look into your eyes, I see how much you care.
You make me laugh like I've never laughed before and the person I become whenever we're together is the person I've been trying to be my whole life.
Suddenly I've found myself closer to you than I ever dreamed, and now I can only hope to come closer.
You are a miracle in the shape of a friendship and that friendship will hold me up when I can't stand on my own.
Thank you for coming along, and thank you for being you. 
I truly love you and everything you do.
A Friend

Matthew's Story

Despair, thats the only word I can think to describe it. Complete and total despair consumes me and I'm not ashamed to say I laid in bed for days just to cry. When she went missing I never dreamed she wouldn't turn up. I always assumed I would open my front door to find her standing there with those sparkling eyes and an extravagant story of explanation. My mind continually folded over the fears, convincing me the worst was impossible until the worst was all there was. I guess theres a part of my heart that still doesn't believe it.
Today, the gloom will clear, if only for a little while.
She always talked about getting out of the city. So even though I was never able to bring her, I know she would have loved these woods. When I come here I can almost pretend shes still alive, can almost hear her voice...

Monday, November 16, 2009

Pop Experiment

Katelyn and I have challenged ourselves! And we're documenting our misery for your entertainment! Be sure to check it out at
Hope you enjoy! :)

Jamie's Story Part 2

So far, death is surprisingly relaxing, the only thing I'm not loving is the cold. I guess that BS they teach you in school about body heat and all that isn't such BS after all. Now that my heart's been still for a couple hours my nice warm life-blood has started to feel more like day old cream of chicken soup...I can't hear much and I wish I could sit and watch the forest life. Seems almost sad that I finally get out of the city for a day and I can't enjoy it much....
I've been down here for at least a day, but I'm not sure maybe its only been a couple hours. Somewhere I can almost hear a mocking voice convincing me its only been a few minutes and the allusion of death is clouding my time perception. If that's true I don't know if I'll make it to my moment of discovery. On second thought, where else can I go? What else can I do? If I go insane down here what happens then? Some sort of cosmic asylum in the sky? As I'm pondering these horrors I hear a voice. Not the drippy invisible voice of my mind, but a real one. A voice so real it seems I could reach out and touch it. Now, footsteps, they're so close I can feel the dirt shift around me. My need consumes me so completely that I see red, until suddenly I hear the voice again and I recognize it as a child's. My fear of never being found is completely drowned out by the fear of being found by this little boy. I can imagine the terrors of finding a dead body and I'm sure finding my beaten skin would be that much more horrific. If my lungs would work I would be sure that I smell too, maybe that will be enough to keep the boy and his father away but not so much to make them curious. I want to be found, maybe then all this will finally end but not at the cost of a child's nightmares.

Sunday, November 15, 2009

Jamie's Story Part 1

Death isn't all that bad really. I always imagined it to feel confining, like I was trapped but actually its quite a freeing sensation. Now that I'm dead I'm finally free from this crazy world that we, well you, live in...Free from the drama, free from the stress, free from the violence and finally free from the crime.
Lying here dead I can't help but wonder who will be at my funeral. Nothing better to think about I guess, but the image of a shining casket surrounded by flowers is practically ingrained in me as I watch the dirt fall. By this time you're probably wondering how I died huh? Well that'll come later for now I'm too distracted by watching my murderer fill in my shallow grave. He can't seem to work fast enough as my eyes are still open and I'm trying my hardest to burn right through his soul with a stare as strong as God Almighty Himself...
...Now that hes finished I can get back to my story, I never was one for violence but when you grow up where I did you don't really have much of a choice. But even with the life I had I never dreamed of ending up like this, buried in some forgotten forest some 20 miles off the highway, waiting for someone to find my limp shell. I only hope that happens soon, I'm getting tired of the eerie darkness left behind by a life abruptly ended. Excuse me, I just realized I never introduced myself, my name is Jamie and I was killed today.

Saturday, August 15, 2009

The Funnest Group of Pictures EVER! lol

Me and Katylyn had so much fun today taking pictures in the park!

We were alone at the park so all the pics (even the ones with both of us in them) had to be edited and I pasted us together lol

These were so much fun having to pretend you
were about to get hit with nothing there lol

The best part was there was a kid's birthday party going on at the other end of the park so there were some very confused

Wednesday, August 5, 2009

Tonight on the Nicole Show

It was a dark and stormy night in the town of Albany. The whole town had an air of bad things to come, esspecially surrounding the haunted mansion on Old Salem Road. The women of the house had no idea of the horror that lay wait in their future...
It was a day like any other. the younger woman went to school like any other day did homework like any other day and checked her email like any other day. But then when the time came to bring the dog in, a dark cloud came about the girl and she became frightened!
What could be coming to her that chilled her bones so?
She slowly opened the back door only to one standing there! not masked robber, no angry skunk. a sigh of relief came from her lungs. The rain fell heavy on the steps leading to the dog pen...slippery steps, could this be her demise?!
Carefully, with one hand braced on the door frame, she gathered her courage and descended the stairs. At the last step, her heart yelped with joy! but wait! what if there was a sink hole at the bottom waiting to swallow her whole?! Scared once again, she shyly pushed one toe down on the ground to test her next steps and finally, she made it to the dog pen! Safety at last! She opened the pen and...
A dog yelps!
A girl screams!
Could it be?
Oh no!
It has happened!
The mother rushes to the kitchen where the faithful dog had lead the poor girl still clutching her hand tightly. screams still threatening to pierce her lips.

As she had opened the gate, the dog with such excitement and joy, jumped with anticipation, bumping into the gate and slamming it closed with the girl's finger still in the way of the latch!

The horror of that night still haunts the dreams of all who hear the story. The agony that captured the girl's finger is gone now but the memory will never fade....

NOTE: this story is true. The names have been omitted to protect the innocent

Mommy, Where do short stories come from?

My head is a very strange place as most of you have figured out by now but I feel it is my duty to warn the world with a more in-depth explanation of how my short stories come to be. Using a few analogies that I have chosen I hope I will get my point across in an appropriate way...

Like the pregnancy of the Alpine Salamander my process is long and tiresome. The story forms much like a fetus, starting out small and slimy, slowly growing into a separate and recognizable being. As the infant story develops, a pressure forms deep behind my forehead, an itch I can't scratch, reminding me it needs to be nurtured in order for it to live. After a period of time ranging from hours to weeks the final stages of the story come upon me suddenly and without warning and my time of mothering ends when the story bursts through like a pimple on the face of my mind. The words crawl out of their imaginary cocoon, onto the paper and for the first time the full image of the story is visible. It is now ready to be filed away in my blog to entertain, amuse or otherwise stir emotions in the mind of you, the reader.