My turn!
Once upon a time...
Story time over.
Sunday, September 27, 2009
Typing Cont...
((Typing again.))
Leah awoke in the morning, Martin laying next to her, his arm around her waist as he slept on. Leah rubbed her forehead, trying to remember what had happened the previous day. She felt the bandage wrapped around her head, then sighed. That was probably why her memory was sketchy. However, she did remember that she was in Martin's basement. Against her will, too. She exhaled, looking over at him, hoping there was a way to get out of here. She waited for her eyes to adjust to the darkness, then looked for the stairs. They were on the other side of the basement, and the tricky part came first: getting out from under Marvin without waking him up. She had known him long enough to know he was a light sleeper.
She took a few deep breaths, then inched slowly away from him, trying to move as little as possible. She was almost all the way out from under his arm, but when his arm slipped off to hit the mattress, he woke with a start. Leah gasped a bit and quickly closed her eyes, feigning sleep.
Martin sat up, looking from her to the door. He stood, walked over to the door, and locked it, sliding the key onto a tall shelf that Leah wouldn't be able to reach. Leah's morale suddenly dropped.
Martin laid down next to Leah again, pulling her close. Leah kept her eyes closed, deciding that right now, the only thing she could do was sleep.
((To be continued.))
Leah awoke in the morning, Martin laying next to her, his arm around her waist as he slept on. Leah rubbed her forehead, trying to remember what had happened the previous day. She felt the bandage wrapped around her head, then sighed. That was probably why her memory was sketchy. However, she did remember that she was in Martin's basement. Against her will, too. She exhaled, looking over at him, hoping there was a way to get out of here. She waited for her eyes to adjust to the darkness, then looked for the stairs. They were on the other side of the basement, and the tricky part came first: getting out from under Marvin without waking him up. She had known him long enough to know he was a light sleeper.
She took a few deep breaths, then inched slowly away from him, trying to move as little as possible. She was almost all the way out from under his arm, but when his arm slipped off to hit the mattress, he woke with a start. Leah gasped a bit and quickly closed her eyes, feigning sleep.
Martin sat up, looking from her to the door. He stood, walked over to the door, and locked it, sliding the key onto a tall shelf that Leah wouldn't be able to reach. Leah's morale suddenly dropped.
Martin laid down next to Leah again, pulling her close. Leah kept her eyes closed, deciding that right now, the only thing she could do was sleep.
((To be continued.))
Friday, September 25, 2009
Typing
((OK, so I felt like writing some big, random long scene of intensity, I'm not going to edit this, just write as things come to mind, so pardon any errors or lack of intensity that may follow.))
Love was a precious thing in Leah's household. It was something rarely handed out and even then it wasn't completely genuine. You had to find your love elsewhere. You had to make it yourself. Sometimes it went the wrong way when you were trying to make your own love, but it was a delicate trial-and-error process that had to be perfected over years. And with Leah's constant make-your-own-love kind of living, there were only a select few career opportunities available. Only one seemed to be hiring when she was 17 and looking for work. Prostitution.
It sounded like the perfect job at first; she could be whoever she wanted that night: loved and cared about. She finally didn't have to make her own love. It bought her at $50 a night.
Of course there were repeat customers, but there was one that seemed to really stand out to Leah. He told her his name was Martin, and he seemed to really like her. Leah couldn't help but wonder if maybe his love was a little different from the others: if maybe his love wasn't make-believe... He would pay her well, he wouldn't ever leave her in some dingy hotel with nothing but a name and fifty dollars... He was decent, kind, and seemed to really care.
Leah's mind reeled back home, where you had to hold on to whatever love you could take... And decided to hold on to Martin. Martin held back.
That night, Martin got there early, smiled kindly, and took her arm. Leah smiled back, a moment of an innocent affection on her face. Martin laughed, asked her to hold still for a second and took her picture. She blushed, happy with the flattery. Then continued with him on his way. He skipped all the filling in the middle this time, progressing straight on into kissing her passionately. Leah knew the way from here: playing with his hair, biting his ear lightly, and slowly playing around with removing her clothes. However, one they were done, instead of paying her and going on his way, he grabbed her arm roughly and pulled her up, handing her her clothes. "Put these on." He commanded.
"Martin? Is everything OK?" she asked.
"Yes, everything is fine. Just do what I tell you."
Leah was nervous. Something said that this was wrong, but she listened anyways. Once she was dressed, she followed him out onto the street. He took her arm and pulled him along after him, speaking only loud enough for her to hear him.
"You are going to follow me now. Do whatever I say, no matter what it is, and don't ask any questions."
"Martin, I'm scared. What's go-" Leah began, but he cut her off.
"No questions, remember?" he said. "I have a gun on me right now and if you don't listen, I'll use it on you. Don't stop, don't cry, just follow me."
Leah held her breath, thinking Oh God, what's going on? What's happening?
She had to only breath when necessary to keep from crying until they got to a house, most likely the one Martin lived in. Once they got inside, Leah broke down, crying, scared half out of her wits.
"Stop it!" Martin commanded, "You're going to live here now. You aren't going to leave. Ever. From now on, you aren't going to see anyone else. Just me."
"Martin, please stop!" she begged, but her pleas were met with a swift smack across her cheek.
"Leah! I told you how things are going to be. Don't ask any questions and you'll be a lot happier."
Leah collapsed onto her knees, weeping softly. She had just turned 18, and was supposed to go for another job interview that week. This is what trying to make her own love got her: being held prisoner by a scary man who refused to let her ever see the light of day again.
Martin frowned, displeased by her unhappiness. "Get up. I don't want to see you crying, Leah. Can't you see that I care about you?" he said tenderly, tilting her face up to meet his, "I'm keeping you from all the really dangerous people out there."
Leah continued to cry, still scared. Something about this made Martin angry. He grabbed her arm and dragged her down his stairs into his basement, not seeming to care that she was hitting almost everything on the way there. Her knees were scraped and bloody by the time he had pulled her down all the way, throwing her against the concrete wall in anger, "Stay here!" he commanded, leaving and locking the door behind him with a click.
Leah sobbed, holding her hand over the back of her head as she felt blood drip down her hair and through her fingers. She pressed on it lightly, hoping to stop the bleeding, but it seemed t never stop and holding it only seemed to make it hurt worse. She cried into her hands until she had no tears left, wondering how Martin had gone from the loving, kind, caring person who had made her feel like a queen, to holding her prisoner in his basement.
Martin returned about an hour later, dragging a mattress along with him and some sheets draped over one shoulder. He laid the mattress down and spread the sheets on it. He moved toward Leah, who instinctively flinched back. Martin winced slightly, then moved a little slower, "I'm not going to hurt you, Leah."
Leah looked up at him carefully, then let him help her onto the mattress. He turned on the lights and almost seemed pained when he saw her hands and head covered in blood. "Wait here." he said, softly this time, then returned after only a few minutes. He held a first-aid kit in his hand, and sat behind her, carefully taking care of the wound on her head, "Look me in the eyes for a second, Leah." he said softly as Leah turned to look in him in the eyes. Making sure she didn't have a concussion, he laid her down, "Shh... Sleep now, Leah... Just sleep..."
((I'll finish the rest of it next post.))
Love was a precious thing in Leah's household. It was something rarely handed out and even then it wasn't completely genuine. You had to find your love elsewhere. You had to make it yourself. Sometimes it went the wrong way when you were trying to make your own love, but it was a delicate trial-and-error process that had to be perfected over years. And with Leah's constant make-your-own-love kind of living, there were only a select few career opportunities available. Only one seemed to be hiring when she was 17 and looking for work. Prostitution.
It sounded like the perfect job at first; she could be whoever she wanted that night: loved and cared about. She finally didn't have to make her own love. It bought her at $50 a night.
Of course there were repeat customers, but there was one that seemed to really stand out to Leah. He told her his name was Martin, and he seemed to really like her. Leah couldn't help but wonder if maybe his love was a little different from the others: if maybe his love wasn't make-believe... He would pay her well, he wouldn't ever leave her in some dingy hotel with nothing but a name and fifty dollars... He was decent, kind, and seemed to really care.
Leah's mind reeled back home, where you had to hold on to whatever love you could take... And decided to hold on to Martin. Martin held back.
That night, Martin got there early, smiled kindly, and took her arm. Leah smiled back, a moment of an innocent affection on her face. Martin laughed, asked her to hold still for a second and took her picture. She blushed, happy with the flattery. Then continued with him on his way. He skipped all the filling in the middle this time, progressing straight on into kissing her passionately. Leah knew the way from here: playing with his hair, biting his ear lightly, and slowly playing around with removing her clothes. However, one they were done, instead of paying her and going on his way, he grabbed her arm roughly and pulled her up, handing her her clothes. "Put these on." He commanded.
"Martin? Is everything OK?" she asked.
"Yes, everything is fine. Just do what I tell you."
Leah was nervous. Something said that this was wrong, but she listened anyways. Once she was dressed, she followed him out onto the street. He took her arm and pulled him along after him, speaking only loud enough for her to hear him.
"You are going to follow me now. Do whatever I say, no matter what it is, and don't ask any questions."
"Martin, I'm scared. What's go-" Leah began, but he cut her off.
"No questions, remember?" he said. "I have a gun on me right now and if you don't listen, I'll use it on you. Don't stop, don't cry, just follow me."
Leah held her breath, thinking Oh God, what's going on? What's happening?
She had to only breath when necessary to keep from crying until they got to a house, most likely the one Martin lived in. Once they got inside, Leah broke down, crying, scared half out of her wits.
"Stop it!" Martin commanded, "You're going to live here now. You aren't going to leave. Ever. From now on, you aren't going to see anyone else. Just me."
"Martin, please stop!" she begged, but her pleas were met with a swift smack across her cheek.
"Leah! I told you how things are going to be. Don't ask any questions and you'll be a lot happier."
Leah collapsed onto her knees, weeping softly. She had just turned 18, and was supposed to go for another job interview that week. This is what trying to make her own love got her: being held prisoner by a scary man who refused to let her ever see the light of day again.
Martin frowned, displeased by her unhappiness. "Get up. I don't want to see you crying, Leah. Can't you see that I care about you?" he said tenderly, tilting her face up to meet his, "I'm keeping you from all the really dangerous people out there."
Leah continued to cry, still scared. Something about this made Martin angry. He grabbed her arm and dragged her down his stairs into his basement, not seeming to care that she was hitting almost everything on the way there. Her knees were scraped and bloody by the time he had pulled her down all the way, throwing her against the concrete wall in anger, "Stay here!" he commanded, leaving and locking the door behind him with a click.
Leah sobbed, holding her hand over the back of her head as she felt blood drip down her hair and through her fingers. She pressed on it lightly, hoping to stop the bleeding, but it seemed t never stop and holding it only seemed to make it hurt worse. She cried into her hands until she had no tears left, wondering how Martin had gone from the loving, kind, caring person who had made her feel like a queen, to holding her prisoner in his basement.
Martin returned about an hour later, dragging a mattress along with him and some sheets draped over one shoulder. He laid the mattress down and spread the sheets on it. He moved toward Leah, who instinctively flinched back. Martin winced slightly, then moved a little slower, "I'm not going to hurt you, Leah."
Leah looked up at him carefully, then let him help her onto the mattress. He turned on the lights and almost seemed pained when he saw her hands and head covered in blood. "Wait here." he said, softly this time, then returned after only a few minutes. He held a first-aid kit in his hand, and sat behind her, carefully taking care of the wound on her head, "Look me in the eyes for a second, Leah." he said softly as Leah turned to look in him in the eyes. Making sure she didn't have a concussion, he laid her down, "Shh... Sleep now, Leah... Just sleep..."
((I'll finish the rest of it next post.))
Sunday, September 20, 2009
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Spelling Check
You must be really out of it.
You spelled 'genius' wrong.
Either that or you were just making fun of me.
BTW: Made a GH5 character that looks like Davey!!!
And I tried to make one to look like Hunter, but it ended up looking like Howie Mandel, so I gave it a soul patch and just called it done.
You spelled 'genius' wrong.
Either that or you were just making fun of me.
BTW: Made a GH5 character that looks like Davey!!!
And I tried to make one to look like Hunter, but it ended up looking like Howie Mandel, so I gave it a soul patch and just called it done.
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
Meh. I'm using my new iPod and the anticipation of the new AFI CD to get rid of the empty feeling. That's why every time a new song is leaked, or even a 30 second preview clip released, I hold on to every scrap of musical genious pouring from their minds.
I can get Crash Love on the 22nd, thanks to the Japanese.
btw, the show in Cincinatti is three weeks from yesterday. I go fantabulousy insane every time I think about being in the same room as AFI.
I can get Crash Love on the 22nd, thanks to the Japanese.
btw, the show in Cincinatti is three weeks from yesterday. I go fantabulousy insane every time I think about being in the same room as AFI.
Monday, September 14, 2009
I'm Sorry
I'm sorry, Panduh.
If it makes you feel any better, Kristian and I aren't exactly doing hot right now either.
And you have a new iPod now, so we're all cool, right?
If it makes you feel any better, Kristian and I aren't exactly doing hot right now either.
And you have a new iPod now, so we're all cool, right?
Saturday, September 12, 2009
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
Rawrs.
Well, honestly, I don't think either of the black-and-white animals posting here are having a particularly good relationship going.
Maybe it's a disease and we keep re-infecting each other.
Maybe it's a disease and we keep re-infecting each other.
It's official...
Relationships kick my a-double-s.
I got to see Paige(y) (see penguin above) this weekend. We watched the most ridiculous movie in the history of ridiculous movies.
My three year old cousin said that movie was " 'tupid!"
But we were at the drive in so it wasn't all bad.
:D
I got to see Paige(y) (see penguin above) this weekend. We watched the most ridiculous movie in the history of ridiculous movies.
My three year old cousin said that movie was " 'tupid!"
But we were at the drive in so it wasn't all bad.
:D
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
Darn Canadian Brits...
Eh! Oi!
For some reason those sounds have been bouncing around in my head.
Not sure why.
They just are.
For some reason those sounds have been bouncing around in my head.
Not sure why.
They just are.
Where the eff is it?!
I was told by a penguin that Chancing sent me a link to download Crash Love.
And I'm freaking out because I can't find it.
Gaahhh!
Where's the phone???
And I'm freaking out because I can't find it.
Gaahhh!
Where's the phone???
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
Welcome to PenguBear!!!!
First PenguBear Post goes to Paige!!1
Paige FTW!!!
Anyways, this is going to be a joint blog between Panduh and myself. I, represented by the amazing penguin, will post sometimes, and the est of the time, the equally amazing, but far fluffier Panda Bear will post.
Let the games begin!!!
J/k.
We're just here to have fun.
Paige FTW!!!
Anyways, this is going to be a joint blog between Panduh and myself. I, represented by the amazing penguin, will post sometimes, and the est of the time, the equally amazing, but far fluffier Panda Bear will post.
Let the games begin!!!
J/k.
We're just here to have fun.
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