Ninvampirate2011

A lyric, a poem, to flaunt my potential I do not rhyme often, but since you're so special... …Ahem. metalangel, April Sky, [insert real name here] You're someone who helps me write, get my butt in gear Since this is a loving gift, this day won't be a tool Or a source of joke or riff, though I'm an April Fool This is about the three years since we bonded over Alice and Jamie TvTropes, music, dreams, fears, and whatever news enters the brain. We talk about predicaments, give any help we could offer And, by some glorious chance, we have become co-authors! You are a funny, interesting, kind friend whose talent I could not oversee

A silhouette paused in front of a mirror-like barrier. Despite the blatant darkness around it, the mirror clearly displayed its reflection.  A doll. It was a life-sized rag doll. No face, no fingers or toes, no distinguishing features of any kind… The doll didn't understand. It could see what was in front of it. It could feel the mirror when it touched it. Ripples emanated from the strange reflection. Between each ripple there were images of a small town. It was dark. Snowing. There was a man in the middle of the storm with a rock in his hand. He threw it at a store window and shattered it.  The doll was curious. Who

"You're the guy?" That's what the girl I feel strange around said to me. Her widened eyes are pale and remind me of a husky's. Well, no, that's not the best comparison. She's more like a pit bull. On steroids. Her name is Flora Harrington. She claims to be the daughter of the richest woman in the city, Melrose Harrington. No one believes her because her supposed mother's never around. She hates me now that she knows that I'm "the guy". …Maybe I should tell you why. ... I think this started when my class discussed who our role models were in elementary school. It was my turn so, like most kids my age, I chose my parents. I drew a pi