Thursday, November 20, 2014

Writing Doodle 017 - Endland 02

How to Get to Endland

A Beginner's Guide

Getting to Endland isn't nearly as difficult as people make it out to be. In fact, once you figure out the hang of it, it's quite simple, really. The first few times may feel like a struggle, but don't worry, you'll get the knack of it by your forth try. And believe me, it's certainly worth whatever effort you put in.

Now, before you begin, it is highly recommended that you find a nice, solitary place to practice slipping away into Endland. I certainly suggest a room with a blank wall, as I've always found steps 3 and 4 to work best with a blank wall. Of course, that's just me. You may find you much prefer to always find Endland from the middle of the ocean. To each his own, I suppose!

Let's get started, shall we?

Step 1: Close Your Eyes

The first thing you need to do when trying to get to Endland is simple. You need to close your eyes. Why? Because many people seem to have trouble believing when all they can see is the real world surrounding them. Closing your eyes allows you to use your imagination, to picture Endland in your mind's eye. Knowing where you're going is half the battle.

Step 2: Believe

As one grows older, this step becomes more and more difficult. It is, however, quite essential. If you don't believe in Endland, there is no way you can possibly find it. You see, it is quite fond of hiding from those with closed or shallow minds, only opening itself for those who it believes will love and care for it. In other words, it will only show itself to those who believe it exists. This is why closing one's eyes becomes so essential-- it allows even the non-believers to use their imaginations and begin to believe, even just a little bit.

Step 3: Picture A Door

With your eyes still shut, you must imagine a door standing before you. Shut. The door you imagine should be a closed door, not open. This is very important. If the door is not shut, or if you picture an open doorway, it will not work. However, so long as the door is closed, it can be any kind of door you'd like: the door of a wardrobe; a small, round door; a castle gate; an intricately carved wooden door-- the choice is yours. But keep in mind, the door must be closed.

Step 4: Open The Door

Once you have the door, and your destination, very clearly defined in your head, carefully open your eyes. Standing before you should be the door you were just picturing in your mind. It may or may not be shimmering with something that looks like glitter-- I assure you, it is not glitter, but neither is it anything to worry about. Now, as long as you have done the first three steps correctly, you should be able to reach out and physically touch the door your imagination has manifested. If you can do that, you can open the door, which is highly recommended if you would like to enter Endland, which is, indeed, the whole point of this instructional. So there you have it, reach out and open your door.

Step 5: Step Through The Door

Once you have opened the door, you should see Endland through the doorway. It is imperative that you continue to believe, otherwise the door, and Endland with it, may very well disappear. However, if the door does not disappear, I encourage you to step through it quickly. Once you have stepped through the door, it will disappear behind you, but you will be in Endland, just as you wished.

* * * * *

So there you have it, instructions on how to get to Endland. For the return journey, please see How to Return from Endland: A Beginner's Guide. I do hope you enjoy your stay in the realm of Fata.

Saturday, November 15, 2014

Writing Doodle 016 - Endland 01

Endland sits at the edge of the world. I bet you thought the world was round. It is. Well, sort of. The human world is a globe, round. The realm of Fata, the faerie realm, as some have come to call it, however, is most certainly not round. It is quite flat, I assure you. Endland is at the eastern-most edge of Fata. It, of course, get's its name from being at the end of the world.

Really, Endland is quite beautiful. It has lush, green grass that covers much of the area with soft, rolling hills. Of course, there is a great number of flowers, as well. The flowers come in all colors, so long as the color is vibrant. Though, these can be dangerous-- their gentle beauty is misleading. And the trees! Don't even get me started! They are the most beautiful trees in all of existence! The trunks are a beautiful silvery blue, and with leaves of burnished gold, they shimmer throughout day and night. Then again, day and night tend to blend together into a never ending twilight. A lilac haze covers the sky as stars peek out, twinkling with delight along with their sister, the moon. And yet, it always feels as through the sun is there, warming you, smiling down on you.

Saturday, November 08, 2014

Writing Doodle 015 - Octopus Kingdom Adventure

"You have to help me! My daughter's been taken! Please!"

"Slow down. Who took your daughter?"

"The- you won't believe me. But please, you have to help me! My daughter!"

Pinching the bridge of her nose, the woman sitting at the desk let out an exasperated sigh. "Yes, your daughter. You mentioned. Now, who took her." She was running out of patience.

"Ohhh you won't believe me! You won't. You'll think I'm crazy! My--"

"Look. Just tell me who took your daughter. Otherwise, I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

A moment of shocked silence before the desperate mother continued. "It was.. It was the... The Octoradi."

This wasn't the first time she had heard of the Octoradi. The legend was about as well-known as the Happy Birthday song-- that is to say, everyone knew it. But it was supposed to be just a legend, not something real.

Lifting a slender eyebrow, she eyed the man standing in front of her. He didn't look like some desperate man, craving attention. Nor did he particularly look like some crazy homeless person, just looking for a way out of the cold for a bit. "The Octoradi, hmm? They say the Octopi have a secret kingdom in the middle of the ocean, connected to every body of water on Earth via portals they've built with their advanced technology. They say the Octopi that live in that kingdom are known as the Octoradi, that they take humans-- usually between the ages of seventeen and twenty-three-- for their celebrations, experiments... you name it, they use humans for it. Now, are you telling me that these...mythical beings have taken your daughter?"

"Ye-yes, Ma'am. Please... I knew you wouldn't believe me, but my...my daughter!"

Narrowing her eyes, the woman lit a cigarette. Blowing the smoke out into the room, she eyed the man once more. "Alright. I'll take the case. I'll find your daughter."

A Love Story: Chapter 4

Chapter 4

It wasn't so bad, being broken up, that is. We managed to kind of...be friends anyways, despite it all. I guess it seemed kind of weird, but it would have been worse to lose a friend, right? Well, the day after he broke up with me, he asked if I wanted to come over and watch a movie. I said sure. It was really awkward, though, I should never have said yes. We didn't really watch the movie-- just kind of talked a bit and stuff. I don't think either of us really wanted to be around one another. Once the movie was over, I went back to my apartment. I cried. It had been rough, seeing him like that, not being able to hug him, to kiss him.

A week or so went by-- maybe a week and a half. Either way, our friend Sadie was having a birthday party. Of course we were both going. In fact, we went together, despite still being broken up.

Now, I don't really drink that much, don't find much enjoyment in it. Just headaches. So I wasn't drinking. I had a sip or two of something, but mostly, I just sat around looking like a weirdo as the only one not drinking. 

I was sitting on the couch next to Todd-- did I mention his name was Todd? I guess I missed that. Kind of important. Anyways, his name was Todd and now you know. I didn't know most of the other people very well, if I knew them at all. And, being shy as I was, I was't interested in meeting them. At all. So I just stuck with what I knew, who I knew. Now, Todd was drinking. A lot. He was getting pretty drunk-- I'd never seen him drunk before. He was getting friendlier and friendlier. It was like he'd forgotten that he'd broken up with me. Not that I really minded, considering I was still pining for him like a loser.

We left pretty early, all things considered. The party was still raging, anyways. Since I was sober, I walked Todd back to his place-- I wanted to make sure he got there safe. I still cared about him, after all. I got him all the way up to his room, no major problems. Then he started saying things. Thing about me, about us. And, well, one thing led to another, and next thing I knew, we were banging.

* * * * *

I felt awful having slept with Todd while not in a relationship with him. It just wasn't me, not something I would have done. Except I did, and I am pretty sure it's because of him. After that, I kept spending a lot of time with him, but he seemed to regret sleeping with me that night even more than I regretted it. He was giving me the cold shoulder, basically, and it hurt, especially after that night.

There was a new guy living down the hall. His name was Jeff, and, honestly, he was pretty cute. Funny, too. I spent a lot of time with him, just chatting, really, while I was at Todd's dorm. I ended up having to spend the night a couple of times-- it snowed like crazy and no one could really get out. Classes had even been cancelled, which was insane, which meant it was too dangerous to walk the five blocks back to my own apartment. So I stayed. Working out in the common room, I got to talking with Jeff, and before I knew it, it was pretty late. Todd had gone to sleep and locked me out of the room, so I was on my own. I tried to sleep in the common room on the couch, but it was freezing out there, so I really didn't get much sleep.

Before long, it was Valentine's day. It had been about three weeks since Todd had broken up with me, but I was feeling fine. I was actually finally moving on. I think it was talking to Jeff that did it. He was just so nice and great to talk to. Actually, it was Valentine's day that he asked if I wanted to go ice skating with him the following Sunday. Of course, I said yes-- I freaking loved ice skating! I had been wanting to go since it had gotten cold enough for it. I was really looking forward to it. At the time, I didn't even think of it as what it probably was intended to be: a date.

That Saturday, I was chilling at Todd's dorm again. I told him that I was going to be going ice skating the following day with Jeff. His face darkened, and it's really difficult to describe what it was like. It was almost instant, and a little frightening. It was like he was super pissed at me for something. He explained about how Jeff was this major douchebag and some other stuff. I tried to tell him it wasn't a date-- I really didn't think it was-- I tried to tell him I'd cancel, but he stayed pissed, and I had no idea why. I didn't know what to do.

Todd slipped off his bunk to the floor, grabbed a jacket and just left. Just like that. I was freaking out. It was literally freezing outside. I called one of the girls who lived down the hall that Todd and I had befriended earlier in the year. She did what she could to comfort me, but it didn't seem like she really knew what to do either.

Eventually, with me crying on the floor and her sitting in Todd's desk chair, comforting me, Todd came back, still looking upset. She got up and left. He told me I shouldn't have let her sit in the chair-- that I shouldn't have been on the floor like I was. He still sounded just as angry. He explained that he almost didn't come back, that he'd considered staying out in the cold, letting himself die of hypothermia. That just made me cry all the more. We kept talking, I canceled the "date" with Jeff, who never talked to me again after that, really. But more importantly, Todd and I were back together.

Monday, November 03, 2014

Writing Doodle 014 - Stairs to Nowhere

Niko woke up, just like any other morning. She showered and got dressed, just like any other day. When she left her apartment, with her eyes on the steps so she wouldn't trip, she didn't notice the stairs waiting for her.

Flipping the hair out of her eyes, she finally brought her gaze up. The stairs glinted golden in the sunlight. Blinking once or twice and looking left and right, Niko wasn't sure that she was seeing something real. Curiosity pulled her forward, but caution made her steps slow. The stairs led up, but she couldn't see the top of them-- they disappeared into the clouds that seemed so surreal. 

Niko wondered, How could there be so many clouds and so much sunshine all at once? This was not normal, but that much was obvious. Carefully, with less caution than before, Niko lifted her hand and touched her banister of the stairs. It was cold, as metal tended to be. Looking up the spiral of the stairs again, Niko placed a foot on the first stair, and then the next and the next. Curiosity was driving her up the stairs.

After a good minute of climbing, Niko looked down, but there was nothing to see but clouds. She couldn't even see the stair she had been standing on just a second ago. Terror seized her, but she had no other option than to keep going.

It felt like hours later, maybe even a full day later, when Niko finally reached the top of the stairs. There just one person who seemed to be waiting for her at the landing. Niko stared at him-- if it was a him, though she couldn't quite tell. He offered her a comforting smile and waved his hand as if displaying something behind him, though Niko couldn't see anything. "Welcome to Nowhere," he said before turning and walking away.

Tuesday, October 21, 2014

Writing Doodle 013 - Character Development: Niko

Niko is a young woman, about seventeen years old. As a child, she loved magic and fairy tales, but as she grew older, the love grew stale and fell away. Magic was a lie. That lie hurt her more than she really let on, but it did hurt. Now, at a mere seventeen years old, Niko views the world with a cynical, hateful eye. Without a mother, she's become distant from the people around her, only keeping a couple close friends. She's afraid to let anyone too near, afraid they'll abandon her somehow. Despite the tough exterior she presents to the world, Niko is nothing less than emotionally fragile, still mourning the literal loss of her mother and the figurative loss of her father. She finds herself drawn to the forest behind the house she lives in with her broken father where she will sit for hours on end, reading, writing, drawing, studying...whatever her heart desires. A stray cat lives in the area of the forest and Niko has found a silent friend in the feline and often confides in it her hopes, dreams, and fears.

Niko is the kind of girl who doesn't believe in romance. Sure, it's a nice concept, but it's not her thing. In fact, she's not even certain she would ever be interested in dating, let alone getting married one day. It's just not something she thinks about despite society and media trying so hard to jam it down her throat.

Very clever, Niko is a great student, but she's all over the place, unsure of what she really wants to do with her life, and with her senior year of high school looming over her like a dark cloud, she's feeling a lot of pressure to figure her entire life out sooner rather than later. Sure, there are things she enjoys, but she's not sure those are the things she'll want to do for the rest of her life as a career.

When it comes right down to it, Niko can be pretty snarky, often using sarcasm and rude words to get her point across. She doesn't seem to care about the feelings of others and doesn't mind letting them know if they're doing something she doesn't like or doesn't approve of.

Deep down, though, Niko has a kind and loving heart, but she's terrified of opening up to people. She's seen people get hurt-- she's been hurt. If she can protect herself, she will. By any means necessary and available to her. Most often, that defense mechanism is scathing sarcasm and a wall a mile think so as not to let anyone in where they might be able to hurt her.

(http://images5.fanpop.com/image/photos/31300000/Bae-Suzy-DORKY-Style-miss-a-31321667-600-450.jpg)

Tuesday, October 14, 2014

Writing Doodle 012 - Keyboard Mashing

Based on a writing prompt found here.

efthjqiopg

Either
Foggy
Tumbled
Horrendous
Juniper
Quest
Iron
Officially
Painstaking
Goddesses

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Either one of them could have said, "Let's turn back," and the other would have gladly agreed. Foggy as it was, they could see decently well through the dark and the mist thanks to the single flashlight they had between them. Tumbling downwards, they both let out a shriek of fear as the ground gave way. Horrendous spiders glided down on silken strings to where the two girls lay in a terrified heap on the damp ground, a beam of moonlight faint through the fog cut it's way through the darkness from the opening they had fallen through. Juniper yelped when she noticed the massive arachnids descending upon them and grabbed for Carlie who was searching for the flashlight she'd dropped. Quests were supposed to be something fun, not terrifying, thought Juniper as she clung desperately to Carlie, tears welling in her eyes. "Iron," Carlie shouts at Juniper from beneath her, "They can't touch iron, June!" Officially sobbing in fear, Juniper tries desperately to retrieve the iron blade from her belt. Painstaking measures were taken to ensure that the blade had been carried with them since it was the only thing that could kill the eight-legged monsters. Goddesses and Gods alike watched in amusement as Juniper flailed with the knife in her hand, hoping beyond hope that she managed to kill even just one of the creatures that seemed to want to eat her and Carlie so badly, only just managing to kill one of the things, frightening the rest back, and ending the quest.

Sunday, October 12, 2014

Writing Doodle 011 - Split Personality

The movies never really prepare you for anything. In this case, the movies were far from the truth. The zombie apocalypse was nothing like anyone had ever really imagined it would be. Not in the movies, anyways. They don't just change. They die, something takes over their bodies, the reanimated corpses hunt down the rest of us. I mean, I guess it kind of sounds like some of the movies...maybe, but it doesn't feel like it. We have to bury our dead in coffins made of steel. Steel. It's crazy. Their eyes don't turn that milky blue like you see in movies, though. They look normal. Bloodshot, sure, but normal. And something-- I guess it's whatever takes over the bodies-- keeps them from rotting, as if they were still alive. All of 'em. So, yea, it can be a little bit difficult to pick out the zombie ones sometimes. Until they start following you, chasing you...killing you. Y'know.

The worst thing I saw, though, was this kid. Must've been only four or five, and one of the cutest kids I ever saw. Anyways, he was with an officer who'd saved him from being eaten and all that, but the kid slipped away while the officer's back was turned. The kid walked right over to one of the zombies and tried to hold it's hand, calling it "Mommy." The officer noticed too late. Kid got massacred by the thing that was originally his mother. Terrible, huh?

So anyways, I've never really been one to believe in things like supernatural and all. These zombies have some definite scientific explanation-- I think I read that it's some crazy parasite born from some virus or other. I don't know. I'm not a scientist, so I didn't really understand what all the words meant. So, really, I always thought those people that claimed to see ghosts and things like that were insane. Actually insane. So when everything started happening, I really thought I'd lost it, too.

I was living in this shelter compound with at least a dozen other people. Honestly, though, I think we had about fifty people living there. It was a decent group-- enough of us to get all the work done and then some. And pretty much all the lazy ones had gotten picked off by the zombies, so we were doing okay. Anyways, there was this one girl-- she was gorgeous-- her name was Georgia, but everyone called her Jo. I was totally in love with her, but I never imagined anything would come of that, what with it being the middle of an apocalypse and all. Not to mention, with only about fifty of us living there, I hardly expected any of them to be like me. Queer, that is. But that's beside the point. Jo and I, we really had something, y'know? Something that makes people uncomfortable because they're jealous that they haven't got it as good. But it didn't seem to be a bother to anyone. Life went on as usual-- just that me and Jo usually got to work together from that point on.

We were put on scavenging duty a few months after we became a public..."thing." Wasn't the first time we'd been put to the task, either. And, actually, it was one of my favorites. We went out into the town, searching for anything that might be useful. Batteries, food, clothes...whatever. Anything that might help. So we were exploring this old house-- could tell it used to be real nice, too-- and we run into a kid. She must have been maybe eight years old? I don't know-- I'm no good at telling kids' ages. Anyways, Jo, with her gentle heart, calls out to the kid, telling her it'll be alright. Course, we both got this feeling in our guts that this kid is a zombie, but neither one of us wants it to be true. So Jo's trying to get the kid to come out of the corner she's huddled in, and when she's close enough, the kid rips Jo to bits, pretty much. Eats some parts of her and all that. I was bolting. We'd made a pact-- if either one of us got killed, the other one couldn't just stand there and wait to die, too. Had to run, had to live. 

So with tears streaming from my eyes, I raced back to the compound with my bag full of the stuff I'd collected. I told 'em all what happened and they did their best to comfort me. I mean, really. They really tried. That was when I started to feel like I was part of a massive family, and I loved all of 'em. 

Couple days later, I'm sitting in the compound mourning the loss of my girlfriend, when I think I hear her voice behind me. I turn and look, not expecting to see anything, expecting it just to be my grief getting the better of me. And there she is. A bit bloodied and pretty....transparent. I blink, I rub my eyes, I shake my head. Nothing I do makes the image go away. I even tried throwing something at her, but it did nothing. She smiled the way she used to and floated-- that's right, floated-- closer. I muttered aloud about seeing things and going crazy. Then, I remember, clear as day, she said, "You're not goin' crazy, Bug. I'm here. I'm really here." I was terrified of going insane, so I ran. I ran away from her for the second time, tears streaming all over again. 

That night, as I tossed and turned on my bed pallet, I saw her again. She seemed to glow as she moved towards me. An eerie, otherworldly sort of glow. I knew I had to be dreaming. Until Moose, the big guy on the pallet next to mine woke up and freaked because he saw her, too. It was Jo. A ghost, but it was Jo. With just about everyone in the room stirring at Moose's rather loud and terrified chattering, Jo disappeared. I jumped up, reaching out for her, but she was gone. The ghost sighting was the talk of the compound for the next two days.

A week after Jo's death, I was back on the duty roster. I had elected to be put on scavenging duty. People thought I had a death wish after seeing my dead girlfriend and all that. I didn't-- not really-- I just liked scavenging. So I was out and about with Moose, of all people. He's not exactly graceful, y'know. Big and lumbery, makes a lot of noise. Good guy, though. Anyways, we're looting this corner store when Jo just sort of...appears in front of me. She smiles, says hi. I kind of smile back. Moose comes 'round the corner and yelps at the sight of her. She rolls her eyes in that adorable way and tells him that "if he's just gonna keep screamin' everytime he sees her, she'll stop showin' up" or somethin' like that. Moose quiets down and tries to touch her, but I swatted his hand away. No one gets to touch my girlfriend without her permission. But she turns and says the real reason she's here now is to warn us-- there's a group of zombies headed for right where we are. 

So we grab what we can and scurry out of the store. As we do, we see the group Jo was talking about. At the head of the group? Jo's body. Pristine in it's beauty. I mean, yea, there's some blood splatters all over her, but I mean, it's Jo. It's really Jo. And I think it saw me-- recognized me. 'Cause it stopped in it's tracks, staring at me. Beside me, Jo's ghost is telling me I need to run, to get out of there. Moose is yelling the same thing from a ways away-- he's already started running. Jo's body is suddenly bolting towards me, her face distorted with something like rage. I run like hell, leaving Jo's ghost behind to face the body she came from.

I make it back to the compound about five minutes after Moose. They thought I'd let myself be killed. I grin and tell them I would never do something stupid like that. Then I go on to tell them about how Jo's body is still out there, and it's weird 'cause her ghost is out there two. It's like she got split into two people when she died. We wonder if it happens to everyone or if Jo's just a special case, but none of us are scientists, and ghosts aren't really science anyways.

As the years go on, I age. Jo stays the same. Her ghost as pretty as the day she died. Even her body, which I run into every now and then, is still young and perfect. I don't know how it does it-- the parasite virus thing, I mean. How does it preserve them all so perfectly? At least we've finally found a way to kill them now-- and keep 'em dead. It was kind of funny to see everyone going for headshots and all that-- damn zombie movies. I mean, yea, if you can cut off the head, that seems to work for the most part. The body's still animated, but it rots-- slowly, but it rots. Y'see, what you gotta do is burn 'em. Cut off the head, keep it away from the body, 'cause there was a couple cases a few years back where the heads reattached themselves, and then you gotta burn 'em. Set 'em on fire. And make sure they burn up all the way. 

We were twenty-three when Jo died-- well, I was. She was twenty-one. Now I'm reaching fifty-five. It's been a long apocalypse, but it's almost over now. Just a few more of 'em left out there. One of 'em's Jo. And it's my job to burn her. I won't let just anyone do it. So out I go-- these kids with me, they never knew the world before the apocalypse, and it's crazy to think they were born into this shithole of a world, but they're good kids. I spot Jo, and we stare one another down, just like that day thirty-someodd years ago. She runs at me, finally. I tell the kids to get ready-- they do. I yell the signal, and they grab her just in time. They've got these crazy hazmat suits on-- gotta make sure they all stay uninfected. Anyways, I chop of Jo's head, her perfect hair now glistening with her own blood. One of the kids grabs the head the way we taught him, and two of others drag the still moving body. They throw the pieces into two pits-- one for the body, one for the head. I douse each with some gasoline, strike the matches, and toss 'em into the pits. We all stand back and watch as the fire licks at the sky. Through the flames, I can see Jo's ghost. She smiles at me the way she used to, blows me a kiss. I swear she almost looks like she's crying, but maybe that's just my vision blurring from my own tears. But I do know that she's saying goodbye. This is the last time I'll ever see her.

Years later, I die in a hospital. A hospital. The world is slowly going back to what it was before the apocalypse. Well, same but better, really. As the light fades, I see Jo. She's waiting for me, a smile on her face. I wish I would hurry up and die faster so I can get to her quicker. Finally, the world disappears, the pain slips away, and I'm standing there, hand-in-hand, with Jo. 

Tuesday, October 07, 2014

Writing Doodle 010 - CatTron

Gracie loved lights. Absolutely loved them. She simply couldn't help herself around lights and almost always ended up chasing after them, a gleam in her green eyes. When the orange light whizzed past her, she had no other option than to chase after it. It moved so sporadically, and she didn't understand it. Until it turned around, and, following it, she saw her own trail of light. Blue. The orange light was chasing her blue light as she was chasing it! It would be an endless game of cat and mouse as they pounced at one another's light trails, attempting to capture them beneath their paws. The orange light whizzed towards Gracie's blue trail, let his paws capture the light, and suddenly, he was gone. Gracie had won, being the last cat standing. With all her fur standing on end, Gracie picked a cautious path to the celebratory bowl of cream on the edge of the grid.

Wednesday, October 01, 2014

Don't Pause

Laughter, cold and mechanical, sliced through the air in hopes of finding anyone to listen to it. It was the kind of laughter you might expect to hear from the creepiest clown doll in existence. Luckily for Shaylan, the girl who heard it, it wasn't real. The laughter was coming from the game she was absorbed in. The game was all that mattered, but that wasn't uncommon for Shaylan-- games were her weakness, her passion. Being as absorbed in the game as she was, the sound of banging caused her to jump and look about the room wildly. Again, the sound of banging reached her ears, and, pausing the game, Shaylan got up to investigate. The sound led her to her front door, and upon opening it, she saw it was just Brian delivering a pizza she forgot she had ordered.

With her back to the room, Shaylan had missed the shadows moving. The room was growing darker of its own accord.

A fresh, hot pizza in her hand, Shaylan closed the door behind Brian and turned back to the room. Strange, it seemed darker somehow, but she couldn't tell why or how. Flicking the nearest switch, an overhead light came on, driving some of the shadows back, but not quite far enough. Shaylan set the pizza box down on the coffee table beside the game controller and went to her bedroom where her phone lay half-forgotten on her bed. Glancing around the room, as if to be sure she was alone, Shaylan scurried to the bed, grabbed her phone, and rushed back to the living room where her pizza sat waiting for her.

One eye behind her, Shaylan all but leaped onto the couch. She made certain that her feet were well away from the floor, afraid of the shadows lurking under the couch, waiting to grab her ankles. Grabbing the remote, she switched the input on the television and sound flooded the room making it feel simultaneously less and more foreboding. While the television showed scenes of cartoon comedy, and Shaylan ate the pizza, the shadows moved in closer and closer, pressing against the light.

More than half the pizza was gone by the time Shaylan was done with it. The box lay open on the nearby coffee table as the air nipped at the pizza, chilling it. As the hours wore on, Shaylan gave into sleep on the couch, the television's light flickered, giving the room a eerie look. As the young woman slept on the couch, her fingertips brushing against the carpet, the shadows came out to play. The television flipped back to the game Shaylan had paused, and the sound of laughter that had seemed so innocuous before reached out for the sleeping woman.

The sound woke her with a start. Eyes wide, she searched for any signs of another person in the apartment, but quickly found that she was alone. Pausing the game, that she was so certain she had paused before falling asleep, Shaylan stood up cautiously as she made her way to the nearest light. When she tried to turn it on, nothing happened. Again, she tried to turn the light on, and again, nothing happened. Scuffling her feet along the carpet, Shaylan picked a cautious route to the circuit breaker on the wall behind her bedroom door. The game unpaused once again, the laughter filling the room with its ominous tones. Shaylan froze with her hand on the doorframe, about to enter the bedroom. With guarded movements, she turned to look at the television, expecting one of her friends to jump out at any moment to scare the shit out of her. Standing in front of the television was the shape of a person, darkened by the glow of the television from behind.

"Heh-hello...? Brian? That you?" The words came out as little more than a quivering whisper.

The only response she got was the laughter. The same, horrifying laughter that had been in the game, and it dawned on her that the sound was no longer coming through the speakers. It was coming from the figure in front of the television.

"This...this isn't funny..." Shaylan took a step backwards, stepping on a shirt she'd left lying on the floor. A shriek of terror ripped from her lungs as she jumped forward, her eyes focusing on the lump of innocuous fabric on the ground. When she lifted her eyes back to the figure, she found it to be closer. Much closer. It was barely two feet away from her now. Shaylan could feel her heart pounding like a jackhammer in her chest. Never before had she been more terrified than she was then. It was too dark to make out the figure's face, but Shaylan had the distinct feeling that it was smiling at her. "B-Brian...?" Even though she knew now that it wasn't him, she asked out of desperation, one final hope that maybe this was all some elaborate prank.

Flickering, much like a television, the figure disappeared from view. Shaylan took a jerky step forward, nearly petrified with terror, trying to figure out where the thing was or if it had gone for good. Just as her foot slid forward, Shaylan felt a slimy hand on her upper arm. Her first instinct was to run, but her fear held her as if she'd been frozen in place. The hand slithered to her shoulder, gripping her tightly. It-- whatever it was-- turned her around.

Finally, Shaylan saw its face. It was like something that had stepped right out of a horror movie with its rotting flesh, a smile cut into its horrifying face that stretched from one ear to the other. Over the rotting flesh was the remnants of what appeared to be clown make-up. Shaylan felt her fear expanding from her chest. Her heart stopped before beating in a way that made it feel like there was a jackhammer in her chest. Bile rose up the back of her throat, followed by a scream that tore from her fast enough to cause her voice to crack into a shrill screech of terror.

The thing that had climbed right out of the game she had been playing now had a hold of Shaylan. It's laughter filled the apartment as it grabbed her by the throat and she was plunged into a darkness that pushed against her with so much force, it might have knocked the air from her lungs had there been any in them to begin with. It was a darkness that couldn't be penetrated even by sound, let alone light, but the clown's laughter still rang in her ears.

* * * * *

It was nearly five days later when they came to check on Shaylan. Brian had reported having not heard from her for a couple of days and was beginning to worry. 

What they found was a game, paused, and a half-eaten pizza that was a few days old. And Shaylan. The woman was slumped near her bedroom door. The corpse looked as through it had been wrung out entirely of fluids. Her face was contorted in a scream. Studying the body, they could have sworn they heard the sound of laughter. Cold, mechanical laughter. The kind of laughter you might expect to hear from the creepiest clown doll in existence, but when they searched the apartment for the source, they found nothing but the paused game.

Tuesday, September 30, 2014

Character Development - Shaylan Lagace

Shaylan Reid Lagace | Twenty-Five


It's My Life

Shaylan was the oldest child of Jon and Danielle Lagace. When she was three, Shay's little sister was born. Everything was great. Jon traveled for work every now and then, but every time he came home, he would bring his girls each a little something from where he'd been. For Shay, he always brought a tee-shirt that was too big for her; for her sister, a teddy bear; and for her mother, a necklace. Compared to some of her classmates, Shaylan had the perfect family. They were happy, they loved each other, no one was sick or dying or anything like that. Everything was just normal, and Shaylan would always take that for granted, never really realizing how great her family life had been. When Shaylan turned twenty-two, she got a phone call from her mother. It was her birthday-- it was supposed to be happy. Her father was in the hospital. He had had a heart attack. Shaylan's world was flipped on its head. She began to panic, wondering what she would do if her father didn't make it. She was at the hospital in five minutes, sitting at her father's bedside. For the first time since she was five, she prayed. Prayed that her father would recover, that he would live a long and healthy life. There were tears streaming from her eyes the day her father walked out of the hospital.

One of the Boys

Shaylan has been a tomboy from the start. She was never too interested in Barbie or tea parties or anything like that. She preferred running around outside and pretending to sword fight with sticks. As she got older, things started to change a bit, though. She found herself at least caring whether or not she showered and looked nice and all that, but she still held onto her old self. Shay loved sci-fi, Star Wars being one of her all-time favorite things. Not to mention video games, comic books, and other "nerdy" things that a lot of the other girls never seemed to be into. Or maybe they simply weren't as open and willing to admit it as Shay was. Whatever the case, she found herself getting along much better with guys than with girls at least eighty-five percent of the time. There were exceptions, of course, but not many. With few female friends, Shaylan latched onto guys, making herself one of their group, letting them be her best friends. Besides, so long as they all got along, who cared if her best friends were guys or girls? Shaylan liked hanging out with the guys, liked being the one to tell them they were idiots, liked laughing at their lame jokes and making her own. Telling them that jumping off the roof onto the trampoline in the neighbors backyard was a bad idea made her feel special, needed. She was the voice of reason-- even if she sometimes got out-talked and joined them in their stupid ideas.

Everybody Talks

Always hanging out with guys had the occasional downside. It wasn't really a problem until sometime in the eighth grade. That was when kids got curious and started asking if Shaylan was dating all of the guys she tended to hang out with. She denied it again and again, but with little to show for it. The fact that it bothered her wasn't something she would openly admit to. In fact, she only ever told her mother about it once when she'd had a particularly awful day. Sure, every now and again she would cry about it-- she did have feelings, after all, but she would get over it by getting a few headshots in Halo. The fact that it bothered her was one of the few things she never told her friends. They didn't need to know that it bothered her so much. The truth was, she'd never been like the other kids around her. She had never really found herself attracted to anyone. They were just...people. She never knew what having a crush on someone was like, not yet, anyways.

We Are Young

She was dead. Shaylan was, to say the least, shocked. Sure, she knew the stories and had seen the news before, but it had never been someone she had actually known before. Well, it had been, but not like this. This was a girl she had been friends with-- one of the few. The whole thing had really shaken her up. Despite never being the closest to her little sister, that night, Shaylan hurried home and hugged her, thankful that it wasn't her sister that had been found dead in the swamps.


This is a Suitable Valedictory

High School was over. It was time to decide where she was headed in life. Shaylan had no idea what she wanted to do. She considered the life of a starving artist, but she didn't much like the sound of "starving." She considered becoming a teacher. Maybe a high school English teacher where she could teach all about Star Wars and its transmedia presence. Or maybe kindergarten because the kids would be so dang cute. Then she had the idea that she should open her own pastry shop. That was before she realized that baking was way too much work. Video games seemed like a pretty awesome life path, but she wasn't really sure she wanted to leave the area, and the local college didn't offer much in the way of game design classes. Then it struck her-- be one of those mystery shoppers. But that was probably the worst idea she had ever had. So she decided to take classes at the local college as a liberal arts student. Four years later, she had BA in Liberal Arts. In the mean time, she had gotten a job at Penny's Pet and Supply Shop. Over the years, she went from being a simple cashier to the store manager. It wasn't necessarily the best job in the world, but it wasn't the worst, either. Besides, she could always go back to school if she found something she wanted to do more than manage a pet store.

Sunday, September 28, 2014

Daddy's Girl

To My Father-

I never thought this would happen. I never even imagined that anything like this was a possibility.

You know, I can still remember all those years ago, when I was nothing more than a baby. You were, along with Mom, the center of my universe. You were my world, and you meant everything to me. Everything I did, I did for you, to impress you. For both of you, sure, but for some reason, I needed you to be the one that was proud. I always knew that Mom would love me unconditionally, no matter what, always be proud of me, but I needed to prove myself to you, needed to make sure that you would always love me, too.

It's not that I ever thought you didn't love me, of course-- I knew you did-- but there was something unstable, volatile, in your love. Maybe I was looking too deep. Maybe I was seeing your love for someone else, somehow.

Do you remember holding me on your lap? Do you remember how I worshiped you? Did you even notice that I did?

Once Quinn was born, I knew things would be different, knew I would have to share you. And for a while, it was okay. We were all happy, and everything was perfect. Then there was favoritism. It wasn't hard to see. I could tell, even at so young an age, that you would do anything-- absolutely anything-- for me, but for her, it wasn't nearly as likely. That's why you always bought her everything she ever wanted. Because you loved her differently. That's what it seemed like, then and now. Did you feel bad? Did you know you were spoiling her in a way that would ruin her? Did you care if you did? Or maybe you thought she didn't love you the way I did and you were trying to buy her love. Sometimes I wish I could read your mind. Most of the time, I'm glad I can't.

I remember missing you. Those nights you didn't come home from the office, those weeks you spent working away from home. I never expected things to go the way they did, but I can remember seeing the signs of it even back then. I had ignored them all, though. I wanted to pretend that everything was okay. Sometimes I still want to pretend that everything is okay.

I remember worrying about you. Once I had gone off to school, you seemed to sink into depression. You let it take over, cloud your judgments. Sometimes, I was sure it was my fault. I can still see, in perfect detail, the nightmare I had that first year I was at college. The nightmare about you. You had killed yourself, and when I woke up, I called Mom in tears to make sure it had only been a dream, nothing more.

Then things really started to change, you really started to change. There was a time when I was so sure you would have done absolutely anything for me, but when I desperately needed you the most, you refused to help. I didn't know how to handle your rejection-- it was something entirely new to me-- so I did nothing.

When I moved away, you seemed to grow worse, more depressed. But I was farther away, farther than I had ever been before, and I couldn't do anything.

I remember when I visited that last Christmas. I never would have thought then that it could be the last time I saw you. But you were so happy to see me. Maybe things weren't really as bad as they had started to appear-- I could hope, anyways. And it was almost like having the old you back again, but I knew something was wrong. It was like a sixth sense. Something just beneath the surface was different, and you were trying to hide it from me. When I left after that Christmas, well, that was when everything changed. Really changed. That was the beginning of the end.

It was only a few months later when I got that email. It was odd, very odd, and I didn't know what to make of it. It wasn't like you at all-- not the you I liked to remember, anyway. It was like you had gone insane, and I was scared.

Not long after that, you really messed up. You actually went insane, more insane than the weird email you had sent me. You weren't the Dad I had grown up with, had known, had loved. Mom wanted you to get help. All she did was care about you. And you refused. If it had been a simple refusal, though, things might have been different, but instead you told her you would never do anything for her, told her to get out if she didn't like it. You hit her. She took Quinn and ran-- not far, but she ran. You got yourself arrested, got a restraining order from Mom. I don't even remember how many times you violated that order and got yourself in trouble again and again. You scared them, Mom and Quinn. You hurt them. And you hurt me.

I had always believed you were someone I would always be able to trust, always be able to rely on. Then you went and did all that, all those things, and you changed. How am I supposed to trust you  again? I don't know if I ever can.

But I still love you. I have always loved you-- you're my father. And I'm certain I always will love you, but I can't trust you. And I want so badly to forgive you for everything, but it's so difficult. You ruined our lives, made us hurt so bad we didn't know what to do.

Most of all, you hurt me. I loved you in a way I will never love anyone else because you are my father, and you've always held a special place in my heart. I trusted you to always love and protect and support me, and you haven't. I don't know if you could even manage to protect me from yourself.

In the end, you'll always be my Dad, and I'll always be your little girl, but I don't know if I'll ever see you again. I don't know if I'll even ever want to see you again. I don't know if I'll ever trust you or be able to rely on you again, and when I think about my future, I worry about whether or not I'll want you to be a part of it at all.

So what I really want to say is this: you've hurt me, you've broken me, and I feel like I should hate you for it, but I don't. I can't.

I love you, Dad.

-Your Loving Daughter

Friday, September 19, 2014

Writing Doodle 009 - Two Sentences

So I saw this and decided to try my hand at it. These are the best I've got.

Waking up and feeling a body beside me reminded me of how much I had missed having another person in my life. Then I remembered I had come home alone last night.


You know how sometimes, you think you see something moving out of the corner of your eye, but when you look, nothing's there? That's me, and I'm coming for you.



Writing Doodle 008 - Worst Day

Have you ever had one of those days? It's just the absolute worst? Well, I had one-- or rather, I'm in the middle of having one. Everything that could possibly be going wrong, is going wrong.

First of all, my name is Iphigenia. I mean seriously, who names their child that? So that's my name, and so I decided to be professional and make my email have my name in it. That was a bad choice. I found out this morning that anyone trying to email me (and someone important was trying to email me) has a very high likelihood of spelling it wrong. Because it's a ridiculous name that is impossible to spell. I'm making a new email address...

That wasn't all-- I've been trying so dang hard to get a job. I've applied to basically everything there is. Now there's nothing left that I'm qualified to apply for. And, to top that all off, I've only heard back from like two places. And both were rejections. One of them came this morning.

Not to mention actually applying for these jobs is making me feel like I'm not even qualified for any of these jobs. At all. So I feel like crap about myself because I can't actually do anything worthwhile.

Then I got my period. I hate being a lady sometimes. So I've got these cramps, I'm flip-flopping between rage and sobbing, and I can't stop myself from eating literally everything in the apartment. I ate an entire large pizza by myself. Then I made some cookies, and I ate all of those, too.

I can't read my favorite book because I'm crying so hard.

I don't have cable, and the internet decided not to work. Even after I've restarted the router like forty times. My computer keeps crashing when I try to open a game or a website or...do anything. And my phone won't even turn on.

When I fall back into a fit of rage, I manage to start reading. I read for several hours, by which time it's about two in the morning. My phone turns on and notifies me of an email I just got. It's from my boyfriend-- the one I tried to text all day and couldn't. I could have really used a hug. Anyways, the email says that he just got home from the ER, but he's fine. Something happened with his car while he was changing a tire and his hand is broken, but he's fine. Now I'm freaking out because why the hell didn't anyone let me know my boyfriend was in the ER?!

So thanks, World. Thanks, Life. Got any more punches you want to throw my way?

Tuesday, September 16, 2014

A Love Story: Chapter 3

Chapter 3


Before I knew it, it was October. We had been together for four and a half months already. Four and a half! It was the longest relationship I had ever been in! Granted, it was the only relationship I had ever been in. Anyways, it had been four whole months, and every single time I saw him, or he kissed me, I felt butterflies in my stomach. I thought for sure this had to be what love felt like. What else could it be?

We had been hanging out at his dormitory-- yea, he was still in university housing-- and I decided it was time to head back to my own apartment. It was just a couple of blocks away. He decided to walk me there since he wanted to go to the computer lab that was in the next building over and do some work. We were standing on the steps that led up to the building. We hugged, we kissed, said good night and all that. And he said he loved me. I was sure he had said it. My heart leaped and bounded and the next thing I knew, I was telling him I loved him.

Back in my room, my heart was still pounding with the excitement of professing my love, for him telling me he loved me. I couldn't get the smile off my face. It was, by far, the absolute best day of my life. How could anything compare to it?

The next time we parted, I told him I loved him again. It was like I couldn't wait to get it out again and again and again. I wanted to constantly remind him that I loved him, that I really, honestly loved him. There was a slight pause before he said it back. It was strange. A small hiccup, maybe. But everything seemed to be good, so I just let it slip. It wasn't that important. Maybe his heart was just pounding as hard as mine had been. We kissed, said good night, and parted. Again, I couldn't stop smiling. Being in love was the absolute best feeling in the whole world. Nothing could bring me down. Nothing. And nothing had certainly ever made me happier.

* * * * *

Things went on fairly well for the next few months. Classes were going good, relationship was great. Everything seemed to be wonderful. Expect for money. Money was an issue. It was like I had hit a wall and suddenly my life had been turned upside down. My father was refusing to sell any of his collectibles so I could have the money I needed for my tuition bills. My mother was doing literally everything she could to get me the money I needed. I already had a loan and a scholarship-- what else could I do? I went to financial aid, but at a big school like Haskel, it was super impersonal and cold. I ended up seeing some old guy in this cold office. I was sobbing. He looked uncomfortable. He got me some paperwork and got me out of his office as quickly as possible. At least he'd given me a tissue to cry into.

After a terrible meeting with financial aid, I figured it would be nice to see my boyfriend. I went to his dorm and we hung out and I cried and all that. We started to get hungry, as people tend to do, but I couldn't afford to get food with everyone else. I would have to manage with a small grocery trip later on, but that wouldn't help me now. I was starving. They were all getting Chinese, and I was, admittedly, a bit jealous. But that wasn't the worst part. The worst part was when my boyfriend pulled me to the side and, instead of offering to buy me food, he told me I needed to stand up for myself against my father. He told me that until I called him and told him that he had to sell his shit and help me pay for college, he wasn't going to help me pay for anything. That I should starve if I couldn't stand up for myself. I could hardly believe what I was hearing, but I nodded silently. There was no point in fighting-- he was probably right, anyways. While everyone was eating the Chinese food that had been delivered to the dorm, I sat in my boyfriend's room, on the floor, crying. I couldn't remember the last time I'd eaten at that point. My stomach was so empty. I attributed my tears to the hunger. I'd be fine. I wasn't going to call my father, though. Trying to tell him what to do from tn hours away via phone would have been like talking to a brick wall. And not a friendly one, at that. So I just let it go.

I was eating less, but I was managing. I did most of my shopping at the 7-Eleven on the corner. It certainly wasn't healthy, but it was better than nothing. I put the comments about food and money behind me, pretending to have forgotten it all entirely. He never mentioned it again.

It was just a couple days later when my boyfriend introduced me to a game called Dragon Age: Origins. He was doing some homework of the non-digital variety, which left his computer open for my use. So I played Dragon Age for the first time. It was spectacular. I had never experienced anything like it before, and I loved it. I was having a great time. I must have played for about an hour, or maybe two, when I turned around to say something to my boyfriend only to find him asleep. I glanced at the time and realized it had been much longer than two hours. It had been nearly twelve. I was flabbergasted. I had had no idea that a game could pull me so far out of the real world so completely to the point of losing track of time. But this one had, and it was one of the best feelings in the world. I stood up to stretch and realized all of a sudden that I had to pee. Really bad. I bolted from the room-- nearly locking myself out-- and ran to the toilet. When I came back, I went back to playing. This time, though, only for about another hour and a half before realizing that I was actually incredibly tired. So I crawled into the bed with my boyfriend, since I would have had to wake him up to do the whole sign-out procedure thing with the dorm, and mushed myself against the wall. He was in the top bunk-- which had no safety bar-- and there was no way I was sleeping on the outside.

Few weeks later, it was the end of January. Valentine's day was in just a couple of weeks, and I was super excited. It was going to be my first Valentine's day as a not-single person. Ever. For all intents and purposes, it was kind of like Christmas. I was at my apartment when I got a call from my boyfriend. Something was up-- he hadn't been feeling too great for the past couple of weeks, not really himself-- so I asked if he wanted to get dinner or something. We met up and went to one of our favorite pizza places just a couple blocks from his dorm. We ordered our pizza, and when it got to our table, he looked miserable. I asked him what was wrong and he just kind of dismissed it. Next thing I knew, he was leaving. He said he'd be back and not to worry. So I ate in silence, worrying.

When he came back, it looked like he had been crying. He said he no longer wanted his pizza, but said that we needed to talk. Looking back, I should have seen it coming, but I hadn't. I had been so blinded by my worry for him that I had been completely oblivious. He tossed his pizza in the trash-- a waste of good pizza.

We walked, side by side, down the street. He was talking about Batman. Explaining how Batman is really just this normal guy. I don't remember much of what he actually said-- just that it involved comparing himself to Batman. He explained that he was depressed, and that when he was depressed, he needed to get rid of the thing that was making him depressed. Apparently, that was me. Or, at least, he thought it was me. By the time we reached my apartment building, he was crying. I was stone-faced, not a single tear on my face or even threatening. He was breaking up with me. I told him that I understood, and that he came first. It was okay. He hugged me, I hugged him. He was sobbing. I let him walk back to his dorm as I made my way up to my apartment where I curled up on my bed and cried harder than I ever had before.

Sunday, September 14, 2014

Writing Doodle 007 - Cardboard

"You're turning into one of them!" He was practically screaming at her by this point. "Can't you see it?!"

She was almost in tears by then. Where had she gone wrong? As far back as she could remember, she had always just been herself. Desperately, she tried to pinpoint where she had started to change, when everything had changed. No matter how hard she tried, though, she couldn't figure it out. She still didn't feel like she had changed.

"You're turning into just another piece of cardboard. Soon enough, you'll be just another one dimensional piece of shit. Do you even care?!" She opened her mouth to respond, to tell him that she was still the same girl she'd been when they'd met, but he cut her off before she could get a word out. "If you ever decide to be a decent human being again, I'll be waiting. Get out of my apartment."

The next thing she knew, she was standing outside with the door slamming behind her. Tears raced down her cheeks.

Friday, September 12, 2014

Writing Doodle 006 - Just Like in the Books

My name is Lauren Gardler. I am seventeen years old. And I am going to solve a mystery.

It all started back when I was a kid. Real little, you know? My mom gave me this book about this girl who was a detective, right? And I thought it was just the coolest thing. She became my role model-- though, I can't recall her name... Something like... Macy Stew? Lacey Crewe? Whatever-- it's not really important right now, anyways. What's important is that I am going to be just like her. I am going to solve mysteries and become a teenage detective!

But it's kind of late, so I guess I'll start tomorrow. After school-- no, after homework. Then I'll find a mystery to solve! I can't wait!

Friday, September 05, 2014

Writing Doodle 005 - Whistling

You hear it don't you? The whistling. I can't be the only one who can hear it. Oh Lord, please. Someone please. Please tell me you can hear it! Please tell me I'm not going crazy! Wait...no. Wha-what are you doing?! Stop! Don't open that! No! Come back... Come back!

Shit. Shit shit shit shit. Sam? Sam?! Shit! Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit... 

AHHH! Shit, Sam. You scared the fu-- What? What is it? What's wrong. Stop it, Sam. Stop... Please. You're scaring me. No...please stop. Don't come any closer! Shit. You saw it, didn't you. It was out there. It was trying to get us, wasn't it. That's what the whistling was for...but you didn't... 

Sam!! SAM, SNAP OUT OF IT. Shit. Shit shit shit. I'm trapped. Sam, please! Please! I...I don't want to die... WHAT DO YOU WANT?! SAM, STOP. THIS ISN'T YOU! It's...it's that thing... 

I don't want to die... I don't wan--

Tuesday, September 02, 2014

Writing Doodle 004 - Scared

I have never been more afraid in my entire life. Sure, I've experienced "fear" and what not-- like when you watch a horror flick and then run down the hallway to get to the bathroom, or when you take a test after staying up all night cramming and still feel like you're going to fail-- but it's never been like this before. It has never been so...real.

For the first time in my life, I am no longer a student. I am an adult. Like a real adult. I'm supposed to have a job and make money and get married and have kids and all that...but I don't think I'm really ready. It's not just that, though. I don't have a job. It's been four months (a little over, if I'm being honest) and I still have nothing. I would have thought I'd gotten something by now. Anything. Even the worst possible job in my field, but no. Nothing. I have loans I need to start paying back soon. School wasn't cheap, man. Next thing I know, I'm going to have to get a job at the local grocery store. Then I'll get lazy. Then I'll get content. Then I'll stop even thinking about returning to my field as anything other than a long lost dream that I'll never be able to reach.

I don't particularly want to move back in with my mom, either. I don't want to become one of those guys who "lives in his mother's basement" for the rest of his life. That's just not me.

But, I mean, there's not much I can do at this point. I just have to keep applying to positions and hoping that one of them likes me-- that they want me or find merit in me and my skills. Or something like that. Guess I'll go put my application in at the grocery store. I'll need the money soon....

Writing Doodle 003 - Just Ask

Drops of rain slithered down the window. Each one seemed to carve a new path over the glass. Seb watched them with feigned interest as his mind wandered. It didn't wander just anywhere, though. It wandered to her. To Chloe.

He had known her for a couple of years now. They'd grown close and were great friends now. Sometimes, he would have sworn her female friends glared at him with jealousy when she would cancel plans with them to hang with him. Of course, he knew for certain that other guys were jealous of him. They all thought he was getting some. He wasn't. Not that he wasn't interested, though. God, was he interested. Probably why his mind kept focusing on her-- the color of her eyes, the way the corner of her mouth turned up when she smiled, how she stuck her tongue out when she was concentrating on killing zombies. She was perfect in his eyes.

Thunder rumbled louder than he had ever heard, shaking the pane of glass he'd been staring at and startling him out of his reverie. Seb blinked and looked down at his hands as they grasped the windowsill. 

Maybe if he just asked her out. The thought was coming clear in his head now. It couldn't really be as simple as that, though. Could it? No. There was no way. She would probably laugh at him. Or maybe think he was making a joke. Either way, he expected it would ruin the friendship. Sighing, Seb returned his gaze to the window, wondering if she would ever think of him as more than just a friend.

 * * * * *

If only he would just ask. Chloe stared at the rain as it hammered down against the earth with a ferocity she hadn't seen in years. With her elbow propped on the windowsill and her cheek in her hand, she sighed delicately.

She was a shy girl, never really reaching out for what she wanted, but letting it instead come to her. It was almost as if she didn't believe that she deserved anything she had to take for herself. Too humble, her mother would say. But that also meant she would never risk asking out the guy she was so desperate for-- Seb. They had been friends for so long now, and he had never even tried to make a move on her. It wasn't that she didn't appreciate it, but she was kind of itching for him to take the wheel and drive them forward on this one.

Thunder rumbled, shaking the glass she was staring at blankly. Chloe jumped, her hand falling away from her cheek in an instant. Maybe if she could just pluck up the courage and ask him, ask Seb if he would maybe want to go out on a date sometime-- a real date, not the friend dates they've always gone on, of course. Maybe he would even kiss her.

No, there was no way. She would never be able to drum up enough courage to ask him. If only he would just ask... Her mind went back to the same hope she'd been hoping since she met him and wondering if he would ever think of her as more than just a friend.

Thursday, August 28, 2014

Writing Doodle 002 - Kitten

"I almost got a kitten today." The woman's voice broke the silence of the living room. Setting down her keys, phone, and wallet, she walloped onto the couch with a sigh. "It was just so dang cute! But it had the feline version of HIV."

"Oh? So it's a good thing you didn't get it, then."

"What? Why would you say that?! That poor kitten needs someone to love it! Needs a home!"

"It's just heartbreak waiting to happen. I mean, honestly. How long does it really have to live?"

"That's beside the point. It deserves to be someplace nice, with people who love it! It's just a kitten, after all."

"So you'd rather have a cat for a short period of time than a cat that you know is going to be healthy and could potentially stay with you the rest of your days?"

"That's not what I said. But it was so cute! And it was abandoned! And, oh, my heart just went out to the poor thing! It just needs some love... Maybe I will get it after all."

"Or-- or. You could not get it and not worry about all the vet bills and trying to keep it alive even when it wants to die. And you won't have to get your heart broken by a dying cat. How 'bout that?"

"That just sounds plain evil."

"It's not evil. It's realistic."

"How do you know it's going to die so early, though? You can't possibly know that."

"It's just a hunch. I mean, you did say it had the cat version of HIV. That sounds pretty bad, if you ask me."

"Well, I didn't ask you!"

"Well, I'm not the one arguing aloud in an empty room."

"I-- Oh." The woman stopped and looked around, slowly realizing she had just had a fight with her own thoughts. And quite loudly.

"Besides. You know I'm right about the cat. It'll just die, and you'll be heartbroken. And you can't even afford to take care of it, anyways."

"I suppose you're right... I'll have to wait until another day to get a kitten. That poor baby... I hope someone gives it a good home." Fiddling with the hem of the blanket that hung limply over the back of the couch she was sitting on, the woman sighed shallowly. The sound of a door opened came from behind her, and her roommate stepped out into the living room.

"Hey, you talkin' to someone?"

"Nah. You must've been hearing things." She smiled delicately as her roommate shambled back into his room, shrugging off the talking he'd heard as a dream. "I really have to stop talking to myself out loud..."

Tuesday, August 26, 2014

Writing Doodle 001 - War

They made it look so simple-- the movies and television shows she'd seen as a kid. It was just BAM!, and it was done. Just like that. So simple. It didn't feel that simple now. Not even close to simple. Her heart was racing in her chest, hammering so hard she was sure it was going to kill her before she even got the chance to try. Pupils dilated with terror, she took in a long breath, steadying her hands. Fear embraced her in chilling arms.

C'mon, c'mon. You can do this, Girl. You got this. Just one quick BAM!, and it's all over. It'll be dead.

Dead. DEAD. The word pounded in her head over and over and over. It was going to be either her, or it. It was supposed to be easy. Everyone always made it sound so easy, taking another creature's life. But she just couldn't do it. It was too big. And she would have sworn that it was staring her down, ready to jump at her at the slightest provocation.

JUST DO IT, GIRL! STOP BEING SUCH A CHILD!!

At the last moment, she closed her eyes. Closed her eyes and swung. The shoe hit the wall with a loud CRACK! Peeling one eye open, she dared a glance at the wall. She couldn't see it. Cautiously, she lifted the shoe away from the wall. There it was, a horrific smear of legs and blood on the otherwise pristinely white wall. But she had done it.

She had killed the spider.

Tuesday, August 19, 2014

A Love Story: Chapter 2

Chapter 2


For the first two weeks we were together, we could hardly keep our hands off one another. Too bad the second week of our relationship was move-out. Near the end of the week, my mother showed up-- she called me in the middle of an intense make-out and I had to scramble to look presentable, and like I hadn't just almost had my clothes off. It was the furthest I had ever gone with anyone, and it had been exhilarating. Not to mention the adrenaline that was rushing when my mom called. But it was all fine. We didn't get caught or anything like that. It was just exciting in its own way.

So I went home with my mom-- another ten hour car ride. I told her almost everything in a way that-- looking back on it-- seems so typically teenager. "So, Mom. I, uh, I have a boyfriend now. Like, for real. It's kinda cool, I guess." It wasn't awkward until I asked about birth control. To be honest, I don't think it was really that awkward on her end-- she was probably glad I was asking about it rather than risking anything-- but it felt totally awkward on my end, that's for sure. Either way, she said we could make an appointment with the doctor when I got home and all that.

* * * * *

It was the third of July. I was sitting in the airport alone for maybe the second time. I was going back to the city to visit my boyfriend of almost one month for the Forth of July. It was going to be amazing, I was 100 percent sure.

For the first night, I watched him play World of Warcraft. He was raiding with his guild. In the meantime, I downloaded the game onto my laptop-- he had just given it to me as a late birthday gift, and I was ecstatic. So I sat there, watching and waiting, but not really doing much else. Looking back, it wasn't the most exciting night, but at the time, I thought it was amazing. Everything was perfect as I looked at everything through rose-tinted glasses. When he was done raiding, his guild asked him if he was going to be around the next night. I felt my heart leap and my stomach flip as I waited for him to tell them that he wouldn't be able to because he was going to be spending time with his girlfriend, with me, that he was going to take me to see fireworks. Anything. Instead he told them he would probably be around. I felt my heart sink, but I smiled anyways, happy to get another chance to watch him play again the next night-- who really wanted to see fireworks on the Forth of July anyways?

Later that night, he asked about sex. My heart was pounding. I didn't know how to answer him. I hadn't even gone to the doctor to get a prescription for birth control yet. I wasn't ready, but I could tell that he was more than a little eager. I said no, but I made a joke about instead of raiding, maybe he'd be doing me instead. I don't think he found it very funny.

Most of the next day was spent around his house. Boring, regular day. Later, though, he took me to see the fireworks. That was all I had really wanted out of the day-- to see fireworks, and it was fantastic. We sat on the roof of his van together, watching with smiles on our faces.

On the ride home, I kept thinking about sex. With him. I kept wondering if I was supposed to be ready, or if it was okay that I wasn't. I knew he really wanted to do it, and I knew that if I didn't, I would lose him to raiding in World of Warcraft for the rest  of the night and be left to entertain myself. Not that that was necessarily bad, but I had come down to the city to see him, to spend time with him, and I had expected him to treat our limited time together a bit differently. When we got back to his house, he went right for the computer-- he hadn't missed the raid yet, and was getting ready to join his guild. Desperate for his attention, I pulled him away, pulled him to the bed. With the lights off and a mostly dry condom covering him, I lost my virginity-- he did as well-- and God, did it hurt. I should have asked him to stop, should have told him how much it hurt, but I didn't. I just bit my lip and let him keep going. It might have been the longest two minutes of my life.

When it was over, I remember being afraid. There was so much blood. He didn't seem to think much of it, though. He went right back to the computer, though, he had missed joining the party for the raid. More importantly, since he wasn't making a fuss about the blood, I didn't either. I didn't even tell him that I was still bleeding the next day, and the day after that. In fact, I didn't stop bleeding for nearly a week. Most of that week was because I had gotten my period, but those first three days, that had been the scary part because that had not been my period. I never told him how scared I had been that something was wrong. I never told him that I hadn't been ready. I don't think I ever will.

I didn't even tell the doctor about the bleeding. By that time, I had gotten my period and was about to get a prescription for birth control. Of course, I said I was not sexually active-- I'd only had sex once, and wasn't about to for another couple of months at least, so how could I possibly be sexually active. It's a terrible term, if you ask me. Anyways, I started taking the pill the following Sunday, and luckily, the bleeding stopped as well.

* * * * *

About two months later, my mother and I drove down to the city again. This time, instead of going straight to Haskel, we went to his house. His mother was kind enough to let me stay there as a guest until move-in. She even helped me move in. She was always such a wonderful woman. Of course, she still is! But it was just so kind of her to let me stay there for what felt like at least a week before moving in to my new housing down there. It was a lovely time-- she even took me and my mother and her son (my boyfriend) out to dinner while we were all there.

Of course, once my mother left, and his mother went to work, we were left alone in the house. We had already had sex once, so there was an expectation that I would do it again. The pressure was brutal, but I pushed it away, telling myself that I would have fun and enjoy it. So we did it again. And again. And again. We even did it in a dressing room. I felt so dirty and awful afterwards, though. I really wished we hadn't, but there was no changing the past. The least I could do was buy the clothing I was pretending to try on.

I had forgotten how much it had hurt that first time. I remembered pretty quickly considering it hurt every time. Not for the whole time, mind you, but it always hurt at first. It made me nervous, but I didn't know who to ask about it, so I kept it all to myself.

But it wasn't so bad. At least, it wasn't bad then, aside from the pain, that is. I had convinced myself nothing was wrong and that I was having so much fun. In some sense, I was, but maybe not in the sense that I should have been. But that's not important. What's important was the night before I was going to be moving. I had wanted-- had expected-- to be spending some alone time with my guy. Maybe watch a movie and eat some popcorn, cuddle on the couch... But he had other plans. He and his friends intended to pull some elaborate prank at his friend's work. I went with them at first, but when it looked like it wasn't going to happen, we went home. He played a game while I watched some television, but it wasn't long before he got the call. They were back on. He asked if I wanted to come along, but I decided I was too tired, so I said no. I fell asleep, and the next thing I knew, he was back, panting and sweaty, but with a grin on his face. They had succeeded.

Of course, with his adrenaline and his mood up, he wanted something from me. First there was some kissing, which led to making out, which, very shortly, led to some painful sex. I was still convincing myself that it was something amazing and that I was enjoying every minute of it, of course. After re-dressing, we fell asleep. In a few short hours, I was moving into my new apartment at Haskel and everything was going swimmingly. I was on top of the world and was so sure nothing could bring me down.

Wednesday, June 18, 2014

GDC Game Narrative Review

This analysis was written as a student at DigiPen Institute of Technology for the 2014 GDC Game Narrative Review Competition. Information on the competition can be found here.

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Game Title: One and One Story
Platform: PC browser
Genre: puzzle platformer
Release Date: 2011
Developer: Mattia Traverso
Publisher: Mattia Traverso (distributed by Armor Games)
Game Writer/Creative Director/Narrative Designer: Mattia Traverso

Overview 

One and One Story follows a young couple as they fall in love, out of love, and in love again. The
player primarily takes on the role of the male character, but also takes on the role of the female
character when the narrative dictates. The story begins with the characters not actually knowing each
other, but the male thinks about the female. As the relationship grows, the two of them fall in love,
though it is just beginning. They experience rough patches, as many couples do, with opposing views
and disagreements. The female runs away, leaving the male, breaking his heart, and leaving him to feel
awful without her. She returns, in the end, promising not to hurt the male anymore. Once again, they
have fallen in love. One and One Story is an elegantly simple telling of this beautiful narrative.

Characters 

• Boy – This is the main player character. A male silhouette outlined in blue, Boy is easy to
identify. Throughout the game, the player experiences Boy’s thoughts about Girl. Based on the
textual, on-screen thoughts from Boy that the player is able to see, Boy is a very feeling-based
thinker. His world almost seems to revolve around his emotions. The love that Boy feels drives
him forward within the story of the game, always reaching out to Girl, the cause of the strong
emotions Boy is experiencing. At this point in his life, Girl, and the love he feels for her, are the
only things that matter to Boy—they are the sole focus of his attention.

• Girl – Girl plays several different roles within the game. She is one of the player characters, she
is the goal, and she is the antagonist. Her biggest role, however, is as Boy’s psychological
Shadow. A female silhouette outlined in pink, she is just as easy to identify as Boy is. She is
unsure of her emotions as she is the one to run away. Not only does she run away from the emotions she is afraid and unsure of, but she also runs away from Boy, leaving him. Her
decisions are based on gut reaction and instinct. In the end, she realizes how she really feels,
having fallen in love with Boy, and she stops running away.

Breakdown 

One and One Story’s narrative is outstanding because of its elegance and simplicity. There are
three pieces of the game in particular that really stand out as being perfect examples of the game’s
simple elegance. The first piece is the interstitial text between chapters, or sections, of gameplay. The
second piece is the use of mechanics as metaphor that exists throughout the entire game. The third
piece is the way the game was cut into chapters. Each of these pieces helps to create a whole that is
narratively excellent and well-communicated to the player.

One of the best ways to communicate an idea in a game is through text. One and One Story uses
the interstitial text between chapters to communicate the story of the game. The first text outside of
gameplay is simple: “Once we were shadows.” During this section, the player can control either Boy or
Girl. Prior to this section, in the tutorial section, the player is told that he can switch to the other
character, but it is in such a way that says that Boy is thinking about her, “I used Z or C to think of her.”
This simple sentence provides a fair amount of information to the player— that Boy and Girl are not yet
necessarily together at this point in the story. This is again hinted at with the interstitial text through the
use of the word “shadows.” Girl, as Boy’s psychological Shadow, represents something unknown within
him. Girl’s thoughts, her reasons for action, and her emotions are all unknown to Boy, and therefore the
player. Shadows are intangible, and Boy, being a physical being, cannot simply reach out and touch the
Shadow. He needs to become one with his Shadow in order to understand it and what really hides in its
darkness. Neither Boy nor Girl is fully aware that they are in love with the other. As they are unaware of
their true emotions, they are living in darkness of their True Selves. By using these simple and elegant
words, the player is given both the conscious and unconscious stories of the two characters. The
interstitial text moves the story forward in a way that makes it easy for the player to understand.
Another example of the text that helps to explain the course of the story near the middle of the game,
is, “And she was running away.” This denotes a major change in the course of the story. At this point,
Girl has possibly fallen out of love and is running away from Boy, hurting him in the process. Without the
text, the story is not communicated quite as clearly as it needs to be as there is no audio outside sound
effects and music. The game is simple, almost too simple for the story to be explained without the use of
words.

The simplicity of the game, and the gameplay, comes from the use of mechanics as metaphor.
With each new section, denoted and described by a piece of interstitial text, there is a slight change in
the mechanics. At the beginning, the player can switch between Boy and Girl. When the player is not
playing as one of them, the character’s silhouette appears slightly transparent, as a shadow, just as the
first interstitial text states. The first time the mechanics change, the interstitial text states, “When she
saw me, she ran to me.” Right off the bat, the player can imagine what this means for the mechanics.
The mechanics are used in such a way that the player understands the part of the story through
gameplay. While they can be told the story through text, by forcing them to be part of the story through
gameplay, the player becomes more invested in the story. By getting immersed in the story, the player
then feels the emotions the story is intended to evoke. The use of mechanics as metaphor within One
and One Story is possibly the strongest element of the narrative the game has to offer. The narrative is
enhanced through the use and authenticity of the mechanics, as well as the evoking of the appropriate
emotions throughout. By having the mechanics change as the story changes, it feels more like the story
is actually progressing rather than a story being told over an unchanging game.

The story feels like it changes and actually progresses because the game does so. The game does
this through chapters. By calling each section a chapter, it helps the player to get into the necessary
mindset to experience a story. Chapters is a word typically associate with books, and therefore, stories,
which is why it helps the player to understand that a story is being told. By cutting the game into
chapters, the player experiences each section slightly differently. The game is split into eight chapters,
each with a different mechanic that helps to tell the story of that section. Each section allows the game
to be delivered in small chunks that make the story much more manageable to take in. The chapters
help to make the game feel simple by forcing it to fit into these blocks that highly simplify the game in
general. As each chapter progresses, the player can easily see the same progression within the game’s
story.

Through the use of interstitial text, mechanics as metaphor, and chapters, One and One Story
presents a narrative that is both simple and elegant. Players can relate to the story and the characters
that feel almost like empty shells that the player is meant to project himself into.

Strongest Element 

The strongest element of the narrative was the changing mechanics throughout the game. Every
time the story changed, so did the mechanics. By changing the mechanics, the player feels the story that
much more strongly. The changing mechanics, like moving from a section where Girl moves with Boy to a section where Girl is always moving to the right, assist the narrative by making it truly interactive.
While some games present their narratives in ways that simply tell the player the story, One and One
Story captures the player and allows him to become invested in the story. By playing through the story,
the player experiences the story almost as if it were actually happening to him. The changing mechanics
immerse the player in the story by supporting the idea that they are part of the story, not just watching
it.

Unsuccessful Element 

 The least successful part of the game was the ending. This small section is the only part where
the interstitial text that comes before it does not adequately describe the mechanics of the section.
Because the text does not describe what it actually going on, it feels like a much weaker piece of the
game. While the section is important in completing the metaphor of becoming one with the
psychological Shadow, it lacks the presentation required to make it both strong and meaningful to the
player. There is an element of trust in the section that certainly makes it stand out from other sections;
however, it still does not quite meet the expectations set up by the rest of the game.

Highlight 

While much of the game has great narrative moments, the highlight of One and One Story is the
section in which Girl is running away. This entire section has the strongest use of mechanics as
metaphor within the entire game. Girl is constantly running away, moving from her typical starting
position on the left side of the screen to the right. There are moments where the player must move
quickly to push a block to save Girl from walking into spikes or so she can still assist the player in
successfully completing the level. However, the most important part of this section is the urgency that it
evokes. When the player sees Girl moving constantly, running away, he feels like he needs to get
through the level as quickly as possible so he can try to catch her. This moment particularly stands out
because of how much emotion it actually evokes from the player as they play through this section.

Critical Reception 

 One and One Story was a finalist in the Student Competition of IGF (Independent Games
Festival). However, even being a finalist, it has not been reviewed by many reputable sources to any
great ends. However, there are a couple short reviews of the game which mention aspects of the game’s
narrative. On the website Indie Game Reviewer, there is a short review of the game. The writer states,
“What is particularly impressive about The One and One Story is how well its creator has married gameplay with narrative. Granted, the narrative maybe a minimalist love story but each beat in the plot
is directly connected to the way in which the two characters interact in the game play. This is a rare
achievement and it should be commended.” Kit Goodliffe, the writer of the article, gave the game a
score of four out of five stars. In another review, on a blog entitled Sit Sam, the author writes that, “The
game’s story is the second unique aspect that sets it apart...The romance of the boy and girl is told on
the text between levels in such a way that the player connects with the breadth of the experience.”

Lessons 

• Minimal text can create a compelling story – One and One Story is possibly one of the greatest
examples of this. This is one of the strongest lessons that can be learned from this game. The
only text in the game is used to teach the player how to play the game while simultaneously
putting the story into words for the player. The interstitial text throughout the game is a great
example of this.

• Simple mechanics can be used to create an emotional response in players – While the lesson
learned from this game’s design is mainly about using minimal text, we can also learn that
simple mechanics have their merits. While many people want to experience games with
complex mechanics that make an engaging experience, simple mechanics can be used to deliver
a specific emotional experience. For instance, when the game states that Girl is running away,
the mechanics match the story. With Girl constantly moving, the player feels the urgency and
fleeting hope that the game is meant to create.

Summation 

One and One Story is a narratively beautiful game. The story, while it is a common one, is
delivered in such a way that it almost feels new. The elegance of the game’s simplicity alone makes it
worth analyzing. There is so much narrative designers can learn from something so simple when so
many games are moving towards making stories that are complicated and difficult to explain without an
exceptional amount of text.