Tuesday, December 16, 2008

The Tie That Binds, Part One

Before I post The Dollhouse Murders I wanted to find a picture of the dollhouse I had when I was a kid, in which I would actually act out The Dollhouse Murders, but my mother has hidden her photographs. Till then, I thought I would post the first installment from my masterpiece of sixth grade, The Tie That Binds, a period piece detailing the lives of the Fostor family. Prepare to be bored. I've never read over it for a reason.

The Tie That Binds, Part 1
Written February 1996
Age 11

Characters: Fiona, Velvet, Paige, Jonathan, Edward, Hesta, Adi, Evet, Marlo [I used to write out the names of all the characters in the story on the first page. I should probably add that this is majorly inspired by The Fear Street Saga, the part in the Burning that deals with Simon and Angelica Fear’s children in particular. That was also the extent of my knowledge of what life was like in the 18th century.]

January 1st 1743

[This was all in one gigantic paragraph but I have mercifully broken it up for you. Be grateful.]

“But Father, must Paige really come to town with me and Velvet today,” complained Fiona Fostor.

“Fiona, spend some time with Paige,” said her father, Edward Fostor. “She is your sister.”

Fiona was quite pretty, she had long light brown hair and dark blue eyes.

Then Velvet Fostor came hopping down the stairs smiling gleefully. [That sounds graceful.] “Why Fiona sister, let Paigey poo come to town with us. Mabey [It took me many years to master the word “maybe."] we will have some fun,” said Velvet. Velvet had long blonde hair the color of spun gold, and dark green eyes. Catlike eyes! “Paige,” she called up the stairs, “me and Fiona are ready to go now. Hurry up!”

“Fiona, you should really put on another overcoat. It is quite cold out,” said Edward.

Then Paige came down the stairs. She looked lovely in a powdder pink satin dress with lacing on the coller. Her beautiful black hair tied in a bun held in by white, pink, and yellow flowers. “Hi everybody, I’m ready to go to town now,” said Paige in a very repulsing sweet voice. “Fiona, Velvet, thank you for letting me go to town with the two of you. I even dressed extra specially,” she said in her repulsive voice. [In case you were wondering we’re not supposed to like Paige. Which is why I spent so much time describing her outfit and hair. In later versions Paige is blond and Velvet’s the one with black hair. *shrug* Yeah, I rewrote this. A couple of times.]

Why does she always have to be so perky, thought Fiona, it drives me crazey.

“Fiona,” said Velvet, “I’ll go get your overcoat from upstairs.”

“Okay Velvet, said Fiona.

* * * * *

Where does she keep her diary, wondered Velvet. “Hmmm, the hell with this,” muttered Velvet. “I’d better get downstairs before they start wondering what I’m doing.” She walked over to the closet, and got out Fiona’s Blue overcoat. Then she ran out of the room and down the stairs. [Wait, was she looking for Fiona’s diary? I thought it was Paige they didn’t like.]

“Here you go Fiona,” said Velvet.

“Why thank you Velvet,” she said.

“Come on girls, what are three whealthy young women doing just hanging around. Let’s go to town now,” said Paige. [I hate her.]

Why does she just have to be so damn perky. “Well lets go,” said Velvet. [She sounds more like a snob than perky.]

* * * * *

About twenty minutes later they were at town square.

“Well, what are you two planning to get from town?,” asked Paige.

“I don’t know,” said Fiona, “mabey some apple cider.”

“I think I’m going to get a black satin dress,” said Velvet. [Because they so sold them in stores back then.]

“Don’t you have enough of them Velvet,” said Paige sarcastically. [Oh my, is Velvet Goth?]

I bet Paige is planning to get something to help father out. That’s so like her, though Fiona. [And that’s a bad thing? Besides, with three bitchy teenage daughters I‘m sure he needs all the help he can get.] “So Paige, what are you planning to get?” asked Fiona.

“I think I will get some wood for father,” said Paige. [I’m sure you’ll be able to carry plenty wood by yourself in your powdder pink satin dress.]

Of course, thought Fiona sarcastically.

“Well Paige,” said Velvet, “why don’t you head off and get that wood for father, and we will all meet back here in about thirty minutes. Okay.”

“Okay,” Fiona and Paige said in unision, [I remember being so proud using a spelling word…that I misspelled. I wonder if I passed that test.] and they all headed to where they planned to go.

* * * * *

About twenty minutes later Fiona and Velvet were in town square. Fiona had her apple cider in her hand and Velvet had her satin dress draped around her left arm.

“Velvet, do you think Paige will be here soon?”, asked Fiona.

“No,” said Velvet. “Fiona, I’ve got a wonderful idea,” said Velvet.

“What?” asked Fiona.

We just walk on home and leave Paige behind,” said Velvet.

“Good idea,” said Fiona.

[They’re just so deliciously evil, aren’t they?]

* * * * *

Where are they, wondered Paige, kicking up dust as she walked back and forth. “Ive been waiting here for an hour. I give up I’m just going back home.” She stopped and picked up the wood and headed home. She was aproching the house when she heard something. Something from the backyard.

Giggling! [Oh no! Not giggling! Anything but that!]

She heard giggling from the backyard. Familiar giggling. Velvet and Fiona’s giggling. She dropped the wood and into the backyard she ran. She stood in shock as she saw her brother and her sisters having a picknick. [Oh God no! Not a picnic!]

* * * * *

That’s it for now, because I just can’t take anymore. That’s only to page 5. There’s 37 pages of this crap. Next time: A catfight! No, not with actual cats.

Wednesday, December 10, 2008

Berkeley Manor and the Epilogue that Never Was

Well, unfortunately Berkeley Manor turned out to be a bit of a disappointment. I only had two pages written front and back. Since I had the whole story planned out (in my head at least) I was sure I had more written. Oh well. But this one does come with some nifty character profiles so you can get to know them all even though most of them never appear in what I have written.

Lora Marlow - Born 1950. Is 25. Blond hair, blue eyes, tan. Abbie’s aunt and one of her only living relatives. She is a nurse at Benson Berkeley Memorial.

Abbie Marlow - Born 1963. Is 12, and 32. Brown hair, brown eyes, tan. Wears glasses. Lora’s niece. She is in seventh grade and doesn’t like it when Lora goes to work at Berkeley Manor taking care of Wentworth Berkeley.

Wentworth Berkeley - Born 1902. Is 73. White hair, blue eyes. Grandfather of Adam and Nicole. And old, ill man whom Lora has been sent to care for.

Adam Berkeley - Born 1968. Is 7, and 27. Blond hair, green eyes, pale. Grandson of Wentworth Berkeley. He is a genius. While Lora is staying with them he falls in love with her.

Nicole Berkeley - Born 1972. Is 3, and 23. Brown hair, green eyes, pale. Granddaughter of Wentworth Berkeley. Younger sister of Adam, and first test subject.

Berkeley Manor
Written the summer of 1996
Age 11

Laura [If you hadn’t already you will soon learn I am very inconsistent about the spellings of my characters names.] Marlow walked down the crowded hall of the hospital to the nurses station.

“Hello Ms. Marlow,” said a deep stern voice behind her. She turned around to see the angry face of Marla Dane.

“Hi, Miss Dane,” she said in a nervous voice. “What brings you down here to the children’s floor?” [Maybe the fact that she works there?] As if I didn’t already know? she thought bitterly.

“I think you could use a different background to be in all day, instead of this dreary hospital,” Miss Dane said sternly. She was a forty-one year old woman who was as stern as stern could be. [Obviously since it’s the only adjective that describes her.] In fact all her hare was already gray from stress. And her dark grey eyes matched the color perfectly.

“I don’t understand,” Laura said in a quiet voice.

“You know the mansion on top of the hill that overlooks the ocean?” [This has bad Gothic Romance written all over it.]

“Yes. That’s the old Creton place.” [Holy hotpants, Batman! This wasn’t even originally called Berkeley Manor! Creton definitely sound creepy but I like Berkeley better since, you know, that’s what I thought the name of this story was for the past 10+ years.]

“Yes. Benson Creton [Wentworth Berkeley…] owns the place. He is very ill right now, and he needs a personal assistant. And I thought--”

“You thought I would do it,” she finished the sentence for her.

“Why, yes, I was chosen to do it, but I can’t.” [So you pawn it off on the young ones Miss Dane!] “I have to go to England for my sister Margaret’s wedding.” She paused for a few moments. “So will you do it.”

“Sure,” Laura said. This is the opportunity of a lifetime, she thought.

“You will be going there tomorrow morning at 7 a.m. Is that clear?”

“Yes Miss Dane.”

“You will be staying there to assist him, and to tend to his grandchildren. Nicole and Mathew.” [Holy fuck! Adam wasn’t even Adam. Mathew? I am in shock right now people.] “Nicole is only 2, so she will be there all the time. But Mathew is 6 and has been skipped to third grade. So he will be leaving for school at 8:45. But sure to remember that the bus picks him up and that if he is sick, you must alert the school immediatly. All right.” [Shouldn’t you have told her all this before she agreed?]


“Are you sure you can handle it?”


“Alright, good. Remember to be on time.”

“Yes, Miss Dane.”

* * * * * *

When Laura got home she found her twelve year old neice--Abbie--waiting in the dining room with a meal.

“Abbie, you cooked dinner,” she said worriedly. “Why did you cook dinner?” [Ungrateful bitch.]

“I learned how to make spegitti today in ‘Teen Living,’” she said proudly. [Teen Living is what they called Home Ec at my Middle School.] “Try it, aunt Laura. It’s good.”

“I’m sure it is, but I already had dinner at the hospital. I’m too full to eat anything else.”

“But all they have are those candy and Coke machines.”

“I had a big lunch.”

“Come on, just try one little bite.”

“Alright. Quite begging.”

“I am not begging!”

“Just let me try some. I want to get this over with, so I can tell you the good news.” Laura picked up a fork and too some spegetti [WTF? Ok, I get it, took], and ate it. “Mmm. It’s very good, Abbie.” For cardboard, she added to herself

“So what’s the good news,” she said excitedly.

“We’re moving!

“What? Why? How? When? Where?” [You forgot Who, Abbie.]

“We’re moving. It’s because of my job. Driving Tomorrow mourning.” [Sounds like a bad band name.] “The old Creton place.

“We can’t move there!”


“Because the Creton place is evil. I was built on an ancent indian burial ground.” [Were you now, Abbie?] “It--”

“Stop it Abbie. Those are all just wild tales, and you know that.”

“But,” Abbie said in a trembling voice, “that place is evil. I can’t move there.”

“Nonsense. We are moving there tomorrow morning. Now go to your room, and pack some of your stuff. Now.”


Laura watched Abbie walk up the stairs. She wasn’t very pretty--with brown hair, brown eyes, thick glasses, and was very plan--nor very smart. [This is Abbie, not Laura. And I might as well have been describing myself.] Still, there was something true in what Abbie had said just a few minutes earlier. [What? Even though she’s ugly, there’s truth to what she says. What the hell is that supposed to mean?]

* * * * *

The next morning was an exciting one.

* * * * *

But just how exciting we’ll never find out. What was going on with this story is genius-child Adam falls in love with Lora and tells her he wants to marry her. She laughs and tells him he’s too young for her, wounding his pride, ego, and soul. So what does he do but freeze her body and keep her held in the basement until he’s the same age as she is, and then unfreezes her. We’ll see who laughs then. It’s a love story. Or, at least, the closest I’ve ever come to writing a love story. This is one I actually would like to rewrite, but I guess I wouldn’t really be rewriting it since I never got around to the plot.

This next one is the “Epilogue” to a story I never wrote. And by Epilogue I mean Prologue, because it was supposed to be before the rest of the story. But Epilogue is written at the top.

The Epilogue that Never Was
Age 11

Roxanne ran through the dark courtyard drenched in sweat. They were still after her. They wanted her for their ceremony.

So this is what it’s like to die, she thought. [What what’s like? You’re RUNNING.] She knew this was destiny. She knew this was why she was put on Earth. To die. To feel the touch of death.

Roxanne thought she could escape from her families legacy.

The legacy of Evil.

She knew it was going to e hers one day. But she was a fool.

Now Roxanne Walsh [Walsh?! Walsh is the last name of Maggie Walsh, from The LEGACY by John Coyne, which is about a girl, who is the heir to a family’s legacy of EVIL. Still not very original, was I?] was running for her life for being such a fool as to think she was going to survive.

Survive as a seventeen year old Walsh in the middle of the eighteenth century. The year is 1753. A wonderful year indeed. Yeah right.

Roxanne came to the river.

Trapped, she thought. Then she remembered a tunnel that led under it. [Just because it’s convenient, though I‘m starting to think...] She ran down stream some until she found.

Bingo, she thought. [Eighteenth century girls so did not say Bingo.] She slid into it ever so easy. And soon within that, she was on the other side. The she ran into the darkness of the woods, and remembered a story she had heard when she was a child. Her mother had told it to her.

* * * * *

A young woman named Valerie [I guess I really liked the names Roxanne and Valerie] was so happy to see her fiance again. He had been away from some time now.

When he came back, he had brought a young lady back with him. Valerie was insanely jealous. Her fiance kept telling her that she had nothing to worry about. But she didn’t believe him. [Why would she, he had some random girl staying with him.]

So one knight in haste she murdered the poor girl. Then her fiance walked in and told her the girl was his sister. [You can see from an early age I loved dramatic irony.]

She was so ashamed, that before the guy could stop her, Valerie killed herself.

* * * * *

Roxanne didn’t know why she had just thought of the story out of the blue.

Perhaps it wa because that woman--Valerie--was supposed the be her great grandmother. [How could she possibly be when the woman died before she was married? Or maybe that's what started the Evil legacy, an illegitimate child.]

* * * * *

After about an hour, Roxanne stopped and took several minutes to wright in her diary. [So it can be found in whatever story this was supposed to be a part of, of course.] The she put it down on the grassy ridge.

There, she thought. If anyone ever finds this, they’ll know what is going through my mind right now. [Because I sure don’t.]

Then she stood up, and walked to the ledge.

“Goodbye cruel world,” she called out the wind. [I used that in Dear Sister 3, too!]

She knew no one could here her. The wind was too strong.

She was about to end her life. Should she give this a second thought. [Die already!]

No, she decided. She had to end it now. She took a step. Then another, till she was at the ledge. [Wasn’t she there already?] Then she jumped.

And fell forever. [I knew it! Fall into Darkness.]

* * * * *

And there exists no more.

On a completely unrelated note, I'm a succubus. Wicked, huh?

Which creature of the night are you?
Your Result: Incubus/Succubus

It's all about feeding, isn't it? You pay them back from their energy, though. You give them something (your drama) that will keep them distracted from life, which you consider a terrible joke.

Cthulu Spawn
Which creature of the night are you?
Quiz Created on GoToQuiz

Next time: The Dollhouse Murders. There are murders involved. And a truly awesome sounding dollhouse.

Sunday, December 7, 2008

The Unfinished Plays of an Underrated Playwright

I'm daring to be different and posting two days in a row. Today we have two very short unnamed and unfinished plays that went absolutely nowhere and I have no memory of writing. Yeah! Sounds like fun. Both were written in sixth grade back in 1996.

Scene 1

Carlos: So what do you guys want to do?
Heather: I dono. Anybody got ideas.
Josie: I’ve gotta idea!
Alex: Josie, your ideas are always trouble.
Becky: Yeah!
Josie: Oh, please.
Dean: I know!
Jim: So what are we gonna do Ducky. [Who the hell is Ducky?]
Becky: Yeah! [And Becky only seems to know one word.]
Jim: Come to my house and I’ll explain everything.

Scene 2 (school)

Josie: How do I look!
Heather: Like a hooker.
Josie: Very funny. Why are you in such a good mood.
Heather: Dean asked me out.
Josie: No kidding. What did ya say.
Heather: I said yes.
(Marc sneaks up behind them)
Marc: Were you lovely ladies talking about me?
Heather: Mark [yes, it‘s spelled different from one line above], you are just so concieded.
Marc: How can I help it with looks as good as min. So Josie, want to go with me to the dance tomorrow night?
Josie: Sure. I have nothing better to do.
Marc: Funny.
(Mark leaves)
Heather: How can you even stand to be near him.
Josie: Why can’t you ever ask me something hard, he has a Jauguire, how can I resist.
Becky: Hi guys. [Guess she was just standing there the whole time waiting for them to notice her… And she didn‘t say Yeah!]
Heather: Hi Becky. Are you going to the dance tomorrow night?
Becky: Yeah. [knew it was coming] How bout you?
Heather: I’m going with Dean.
Josie: Can’t you guys ever talk about anything important.
Heather: Can’t you ever shut up?
Becky: Yeah! [I’m starting to wonder if I did that on purpose…] Can you?
Heather: I guess not.
Becky: Yeah! […]
Josie: You two are just so immature.
Alex: Look who’s talking [where did he come from?]
Josie: Ha ha ha! Very funny.
Alex: I know. Want to go with me to the dance.
Josie: Sorry, but I’m taken.
Alex: By who?
Heather: Mark.
Alex: Your going with Mark instead of me.
Josie: Yeah! What’s it to you!
Alex: Well, that’s just fine with me because I’m taking Raquel.
Josie: Yeah right, I’m going to class.
(Josie leaves)
Alex: I hate her.
Becky: Then why did you ask her out?
Alex: I just felt like it.
Heather: Are you really going with Raquel?
Alex: Of course. Why would I lie? [Because you just asked Josie, maybe?]
Becky: Because your just a lying pig. [Seems like Becky‘s done a 180.]
Heather: That’s him all right.
Becky: I’m going with Jim.
Heather: He asked you.
Becky: Actually I asked him.
Alex: Wonderful.
Heather: Can you mind your own business.
Becky: No he can’t. He’s just like Josie, the queen of gossip. [What happened to Yeah!, Becky. What happened to the girl I was just getting to know?]
(Josie comes back)
Josie: I forgot something.
Becky: Josie, why are you going out with Mark.
Josie: Because I feel like it.
Heather: Well I don’t wanna be late, I’m gion ta class.
Becky: Heather, wait for me!
Alex: Well Josie, I guess it’s just you and me by the lockers. Wanna make out?
Josie: Get out of my face you pig.

Scene 3

Alex: Hey Raquel, wanna go with me to the dance.
Raquel: Sure!
Josie I

* * * * *

That’s it. Who was Ducky? What did Jim explain at his house? Sadly, we’ll never know.

This next one’s about the same length.

* * * * *

Act 1

Roxanne: I have the perfect place to go.
Vincent: Where Rox?
Roxanne: Shave White. [I feel the need to explain this. In In Living Color, in several of their skits they referred to a fancy restaurant called Che White, which at 11 I had no idea how to spell. If you hadn’t guessed, In Living Color was a huge influence on my young life.]
Vincent: Where the hell is that? [Unnecessary swearing! w00t!]
Roxanne; About ten miles south of here.
Vincent: I don’t know if you noticed this Rox, but we are in the middle of nowhere.
Roxanne: We go that way. [I can only assume she’s pointing somewhere.]
Vincent: Great! Let’s go.

Act 2

Valerie: Hello everyone.
George: Why if it isn’t my little Valerie.
Valerie: Hi daddy. Did you miss me?
George: Of course my dear.
Valerie: Where’s Holly?
George: She’s with Mayor Davis. You know, Sherriff Drake has been asking about you. [I’m guessing this is supposed to take place in the old west. Its’ sort of coming back to me. Vincent and Roxanne were the villains. Very unusual for me, though it sort of makes it more interesting imagining the lines being spoken with a southern drawl.]
Valerie: He has?
George: Yes, he has.
Valerie: Well tell him, I’me not interested.
Evet: Hello Mr. Paxson. Who is your guest? [Evet=Yvette because 11-year-old me couldn’t spell.]
George: Hello Evet. I’d like you to meet my daughter Valerie. Valerie, this is our new maid Evet.
Valerie: Nice to meet you Evet.
Evet: Plessure.
George: Well Valerie, how was school?
Valerie: I loved it. We learne about thes two outlaws named Roxanne and Vincent Vanders. [I knew it was a fricken western…] Rumer has it they’re hiding in the area.
George: You don’t say.
Valerie: I do say. And they are dangerous.
George: Holly ought to be here any minute.
Holly: Val, you’re home!
Valerie: Holly, is that you?
Holly: Yup! It’s me!
Valerie: What happened to you?
Holly: Puberty! [You do NOT say that right in front of your father, Holly!]
Valerie: Oh. My little sister is growing up.
Holly: Val, I’ve missed you so much.
Valerie: Let’s go for a walk, for old times sake.
Holly: Kay.

Act 3

Liza: Valerie?
Valerie: Liza.
Liza: Val, your home. Holly, why didn’t you tell me Val was coming home
Holly: Strangely enough, I didn’t know.
Liza: Guess what I’ve heard.
Valerie: What?
Liza: It’s about you.
Holly: What about Val?
Liza: Just that--are you sure you want to know? [Seems I discovered the dash around this time.]
Holly: Just tell us already Liza!
Liza: Tell you what? [Liza needs to die a horrible death.]
Valerie: The News about me.
Liza: Ohh, that. It’s old news, shouldn’t you know it already.
Holly: Just tell Liza!
Liza: Fine! Well Tony Drake told me that Valerie--you will be his wife one way or a nother. And you know what he’s capable of.
Holly: I know it al to well.
Valerie: That is a dirty rotten lie!
Liza: It’s gossip. [Not if he told it to you directly, Liza.]
Valerie: Well you tell Mr. Sherriff, that he can beat me, stab me, shoot me, do anything he wants to me, but I, will never marry him!
Holly: Of course, you’ll be dead by them. [That line is made of win.]

Act 4

Tony: Hey Davis!
Alex: Oh, hi Tony.
Tony: Alex, Alex, Alex.
Alex: what?
Tony: We’ve been friends for a long time.
Alex: What?
Tony: What?
Alex: I’me [Clearly I thought I’m had an e at the end of it. That’s the second time it appears in this.] not doing you any favors.
Tony: Who said I wanted you to do me a favor.
Alex: I know you Tony. Whenever you want something, you start sucking up to me like an idiot. So let’s just skip through all that and you tell me what you want, so I can just say no quickly, so we don’t have to go throug this ordeal.
Tony: Well, your girlfriend Holly Paxson--
Alex: No!
Tony: What?
Alex: I’m not involving Holly.

* * * * *

That‘s it. And it was going so well, too! I actually want to read more. *sad face* All I remember about his one is Tony (the Sheriff) wanted Alex (the Mayor) to help him get Valerie. How the Vanders played into it I have no idea. I’m thinking they held up the saloon or something and Tony saved the day, making Valerie see his worth. Alas, we will never know.

Next time: A little boy obsessed with his father’s nurse is determined to make her his and a girl falls to her death.

Saturday, December 6, 2008

The Writings of a Self-Deluded Pre-Adolescent

I know, I know. You want more Bratz Doll Theatre. It’s coming, I promise. But with moving some of my books have disappeared and I’m not quite sure what I did with my Barbie Bin. Not to mention I have very limited access to the internet. Recently I stumbled across a few blogs that document the writing attempts of young authors accompanied with snaky commentary and I felt inspired. So at least until I get things straight at home I’m going to be shamelessly copying them and putting up my own early attempts at the novel.

I first began writing at the age of six when my first grade teacher gave an assignment to write a short tale in four sentences using First, Then, Next, and Last. I found this to be an ingenious writing device and quickly penned several short stories focusing on the adventures of Sally the Cat on Rollerskates. They followed Sally, an orange cat (because I always wanted an orange cat to name Whisper because of the movie Milo and Otis. Yeah, I‘m not following that logic, either.), who glided around on rollerskates and was accosted by many a strange creature. After about five or six of these my mother advised me to expand my writing by dropping the First, Then, Next, and Last. What did she know? She didn’t appreciate my genius, that was for sure. And that quelled my desire to be a writer and, dejected, I went back to my goal of being a princess ballerina who explored the forests of Egypt.

When I was in third grade my favorite teacher ever, Mrs. Campbell, read to us The Dollhouse Murders, which seriously changed my life. That book made me want to read, which, of course, made me want to write. And write I did. First I plagiarized the bejesus out of The Dollhouse Murders and other Betty Ren Wright books by rewriting scenes and changing the characters names. I wrote a semi-original story or two over the course of third, fourth, and fifth grade, but those have all been lost to time. The oldest I have is an epic trilogy of plays entitled Dear Sister. The first written the summer after fifth grade, a joint effort between my best friend Amanda and myself. The other two I wrote on my own in sixth grade. They will eventually be posted by the awesome Sada over at 30 is the New 13, whose idea I have completely stolen. But what else is new, write? That was a clever pun. Laugh, you buffoon.

I’ll give you a quick sneak peak at the amazing literary works to come. You know you’re excited. I guess I’ll go up to ninth or tenth grade. We’ll see where it was my stuff went from bad to okay.

The Tie the Binds (later known as Black Velvet)
The story of a bunch of sisters of one whom is cursed. And her name is Velvet.

Jimmy Dearest
A girl with a thing for a guy named Jimmy whose life is disrupted when her unwanted sister decides to make her pay for what happened when they were kids.

Berkeley Manor
A young boy falls in love with his grandfather’s nurse and plays at being God.

The Day of Rebecca

A play in which one girl kills another for no adequately explained reason.

The Enemy Within
Two friends turned enemies travel between dimensions and screw up peoples lives wherever they go. This one’s finished, folks!

The Diabolical One
Some evil thing takes over the body of a little girl.

Serena’s Story
About a girl who…I have no idea. It’s been far too long. I remember she has sex.

No, this couldn’t possibly be about revenge. There’s no revenge in this story. If you’re looking for a story about revenge look elsewhere.

Six teenagers are gathered together to repeat the same doomed fate of those who came before them. Probably the best thing I ever wrote in middle school.

Kids in the third grade class are mysteriously disappearing one-by-one. It’s up to the kids to save themselves. Based on a true story. Not.

The Other
A cult-like group kills people. I don’t know how much of this was actually written.

I Meet Thee Again
The title that was so good I used it for two completely different stories! (and a poem, I think.) One is my attempt at sci fi, the other about weird immortal thingies.

An unusual girl with a strange magnetism punishes those who hurt her.

Any Way the Wind Blows
About the reincarnation of an alien princess who is born into a white-trash family with absentee parents and a lot of kids whose mother is an evil witch. It follows her day-to-day life. School, romance, murder, and prophetic dreams about her husband in her past life. I bet you can’t wait to read this one. This is truly the magnum opus of my young life.

And a bunch of unnamed crap.

Till next time I’ll leave off with this gem of a poem I wrote in 1995 when I was ten years old though I might as well have been five. I believe I was trying to attempt the writing style of the writing staff of In Living Color, with their clever Dr. Suess parodies, such as Horton Hears A Ho, Hop on Cop, Green Eggs and the Government Cheese, and How the Grinch Stole My Stereo.

A Disappointment

Once there was a Ho who lived in the Hills,
He had three kids named Fill, Dill, and Bill
And a wife named Lil.

He was expecting a forth,
But when it arrived it was a dorf.

Seventeen years later,
It was as tall as Christian Slater.

It went poo and doo doo,
And crapped everywhere,
It even crapped in its mother’s hair.

He worked at McDonalds,
And his name was Ronald.

Soon his poop became a problem, even more a disappointment,
And soon he found himself in the clutches of unemployment.

I have no words folks. No words.

Friday, September 26, 2008

V.C. Andrews Theatre Presents...

Zipporah: Karen Stoker is my best friend. She’s beautiful, mysterious, intriguing, amazing, demanding, bitchy, moody, and looks down on everyone else. She’s everything I want to be. *dreamy sigh*

Karen: Don’t be thick!

Karen: Hey, Zipporah, I have cleavage.

Zipporah: I want some too!

Alice: Karen’s bad news. I’d make some real friends if I were you.

Zipporah: You’re bitchier than Karen. Why would anyone in their right mind want to be friends with you?

Karen: My life sucks. I wish I had your family and we were sisters. I hate my stepfather. He’s mean and strict and my mother lets him do whatever he wants with me.

Zipporah: Poor Karen! Come here, I’ll make it feel all better. What’s with the bruise on your shoulder?

Karen: Nothing! Mind your own business! Don’t be thick!

Zipporah: Karen, you’ve been ignoring me for days. Tell me what’s wrong!

Karen: Get away from me. Even though you’re the only--and I do mean only--friend I’ve got, I’m going to be cold and distant with you and act like you mean nothing to me.

Zipporah: Wah!! Why is Karen crying? Why won’t she talk to me? What have I done to deserve this cold-hearted bitch of a best friend?

Zipporah: Why won’t Karen answer the door? Why is she avoiding me like this?

Mrs. Pearson: Karen, come down and talk to your only friend.

Karen: Leave me alone!

Zipporah: I’ve had it. Karen Stoker, you’re my best friend and I’m not going to let you ignore me. Tell me what’s going on. Or else!

Karen: You wanna know? Fine. My stepfather touches me and fondles me and has sex with me every night while my mother’s getting her nails and hair and whatever else done. He pretends his mother’s still alive in the apartment on the back of the house and dresses up in her nightgown and wears her wig.

Zipporah: Sure you haven’t been watching too many movies lately?

Karen: I’m you’re only friend. Why would I lie to you? Don’t be thick!

Zipporah: I know what we can do. The next time he comes to you, you could wear the nightgown and the wig, pretending to be his mother, and tell him he better leave you alone. Or that might turn him on.

Karen: There’s no reason in the world why that won’t work.

Zipporah: Karen wasn’t in school today. I wonder what happened last night.

Mrs. Stein: Oh, honey, I’m so sorry. Karen murdered her stepfather last night and took off.

Zipporah: Karen? My precious Karen?

Zipporah: OMG it’s Karen! She’s been hiding in my attic!

Karen: I have no place to go. And since you’re my whipped doormat I knew you wouldn’t turn me in if I came here.

Zipporah: What happened?

Karen: I killed him, you moron. Don’t be thick!

Zipporah: I mean, oh never mind. You can’t stay here. You’re putting me in danger now, too.

Karen: I thought you were my friend, Zipporah! After everything we shared, after all I’ve meant to you, I though you could at least do me the teensy itty bitty favor of aiding and abetting a murderer!

Zipporah: You’re right. I’m sorry I ever had a thought that forged itself from my own free will. Of course you can stay here. But now you have to tell me what happened?

Karen: I killed him. What are you, thick? But if you want gory details, he got mad at me pretending to be his mom and got violent, so I got out my knife I keep next to his bed and kept stabbing him until he was dead. It was sort of fun. I'd do it again.

Mr. Stein: The police want to talk to you about Karen, honey. Since you were her only friend. Do you have any idea what might’ve happened.

Zipporah: Well, she never liked him.

Mean Police Officer: Do you know what she did? Huh? Do you?

Zipporah: She never liked Mr. Pearson. She had headaches a lot.

Other Mean Police Officer: I think she’s hiding something.

Karen: So they grilled you? You didn’t let anything slip, did you? That would be so like you.

Zipporah: No! Of course not! All I told them was you didn’t like him and you had headaches.

Karen: Good. Everything’s going according to plan. Muwahahaha! Thick.

Zipporah: Karen? Are you alright?

Karen: Never better! Let’s have pizza!

Karen; You have to have all the romance for both of us now.

Zipporah: Are you serious?

Karen: Absolutely. I will not leave until you’ve lost your virginity.

Zipporah: *stare*

Karen: Dana, the most hottest guy at school, likes you. I made sure of that by telling him you’re a slu-sweetly beautiful girl. By the way, you should read your brother’s diary. I did.

Zipporah: How could you?

Karen: Because I slept with him last summer and it was really fun.

Zipporah: What was that?

Karen: Eat some more pizza.

Zipporah: My parent’s are taking me to New York this weekend to get my mind of the tragedy.

Karen: Perfect! This is a great opportunity. I’ll record a message for my mother and you can play it for her over the phone while you’re in New York so it'll throw the feds off of me being here. The fact that you happen to be in New York the same day I make the call won’t appear suspicious at all! Hey, that rhymes. I should be a poet. To kill thy bastard step-father, or not to kill thy bastard step-father? That is the question.

Alice: You’re friend didn’t turn out to be so great, now did she.

Zipporah: I’d still rather be friends with a murderer than with you.

Dana: What’s cookin’, good-looking’?

Zipporah: Nothing. I’m eating my lunch right now.

Dana: Oh, don’t be thick.

Zipporah: That’s Karen’s phrase! I won’t let you use it for your own perversion!!

Dana: I bet you know where she is, don’t you? We should get together and you, “talk” about Karen. And by talk I mean have sex. In my car. A lot.

Zipporah: I’m going out of town.

Zipporah: Dana tried to get me to go out with him today. I don’t think I will.

Karen: Oh yes you will. I worked so hard on getting him to like you! Now this is how you’re going to do it. You’re going to meet him in secret and have sex in his car. It’ll be so much fun. And then we’ll be sisters because we’ll both be sluts!

Zipporah: I’m not following your logic.

Karen: Don’t be thick!

Zipporah: Don't you ever get sick of saying that?

Zipporah: It sure is fun here in New York. I almost forgot about Karen. My dad met some friends and my mom’s in the shower so I’m going to make that phone call to Mrs. Pearson now at a phone booth only one block away from the hotel. And no one will even notice the recording device I’m holding up to the phone.

Mean Police Officer: Karen called here from New York the same day you Stein’s were in New York. That sounds pretty damned coincidental if you ask me.

Mrs. Pearson: Zipporah, you must’ve had some idea that something like this might happen.

Zipporah: None at all. *whistle*

Mrs. Pearson: I’m sorry if I sounded like I was interrogating you. Karen was difficult to deal with and I’m only sorry you chose her for a friend.

Zipporah: This isn’t her fault.

Mr. Stein: Out with it, Zipporah, what are you hiding?

Zipporah: I can’t take it anymore. Mr. Pearson raped her. He came into her room at night.

Mr. Stein: I see. I’m going to talk to the police about it.

Dana: I’m giving you one last chance to act like I’m the handsome sex God I know I am. Meet me by the ice cream parlor tonight. Be square or be there. Wait…

Zipporah: I’ll think about it.

Karen: Make sure you’re the one who touches him first. You have the power!!!! Oh, and wear my red panties. And my skirt. Actually, wear my whole outfit. That way it’ll be easier for him to pretend you’re me.

Zipporah: Karen, you’re starting to weird me out.

Dana: Let’s have sex.

Zipporah: I don’t want to.

Dana: I don’t care.

Zipporah: Don’t do this, Dana. Don’t be a rapist! I’m a virgin!

Dana; You better not tell anyone about his.

Karen: Well, what happened.

Zipporah: We didn’t have sex. It was awful. I’ve had it. We can’t pretend anymore. Everything’s gone too far.

Karen: You’re making me feel unwanted, Zipporah. You don’t want to make me feel unwanted. Look what happened to my stepfather.

Zipporah: Um…yeah. My dad’s home. I have to go downstairs and pretend I don’t know where you are now.

Mr. Stein: You’re brother’s coming home early.

Zipporah: Oh no! I mean, good. I missed him.

Mr. Stein: Why do I keep getting this strange feeling that you’re not telling me something.

Zipporah: Because I’m not.

Mr. Stein: Oh, that explains it.

Zipporah: You have to go. There’s no way we can keep this up after Jesse gets home.

Karen: Oh, I’ll think of something. I always do.

Jesse: Hey, sis.

Zipporah: Jesse! You’re home!

Jesse: I love these periods of quality time we share. How are you?

Zipporah: Well...

Jesse: Enough about you, now tell me what happened with Karen.

Zipporah: Her step-father was coming into her room at night.

Jesse: That poor girl. So do you know anything else? I mean, she was really hot.

Zipporah: Huh?

Jesse: About the murder. About where she might’ve gone.

Zipporah: No. I don’t. Can we talk about something other than Karen now?

Mr. Stein: Time to go see the police again, honey. They want to talk to you about this nasty rape business.

Zipporah: For the last time, Mr. Pearson was coming into her room at night. He used to pretend his mother was still alive and talk to her in the back apartment of the house. He would even wear her nightgown and wig and make up.

Mean Police Officer: Sure you haven’t seen Psycho a few too many times?

Zipporah: I’m telling the truth! Why doesn’t anybody believe me?

Zipporah: Karen, I have to talk to you.

Karen: I don’t need you. I’ve got Jesse now. He knows I’m here. I pretended like I just got here and cried about how hard it was in New York. I wish they gave Academy Awards for performances in real life. And I’m being completely modest.

Zipporah: It doesn’t make me suspect in the slightest that you may have put on a “performance” for me.

Karen: I was protecting you, you know. I made Jesse think you don’t know I’m here.

Zipporah: Of course. You’re always doing everything for me.

Dana: Did you tell Karen about our fun adventure together?

Zipporah: I think I’m feeling a bit sick. Cough Oh, nurse. Nurse, I need to go home.

Zipporah: OMG! Karen! How could you?

Jesse: It’s not what it looks like. Okay, you caught me, it is. But she needs help right now.

Zipporah: She’s wanted for murder, Jesse! What kind of help is having sex with her? I used to think you were so much better than me but not anymore. Now you stay down here and be quiet and I’m going to go upstairs and talk to Karen.

Karen: What? Are you going to blame me for everything? Don’t be thick. He has his own free will.

Zipporah: Did you ever do it with him before.

Karen: Of course I did. You should try it. That boy is HAWT!

Zipporah: As much as I know everyone loves to hear the kinky details of sex with their brother, there are more pressing matters at hand. We’re gonna tell him the truth.

Karen: Of course. The “truth”. It’s a good thing Jesse knows. He’ll help us.

Jesse: I’m gonna find out what the police questioned your mom about.

Karen: You’re the best.

Zipporah: And what am I? Chopped liver?

Karen: You know I love you, Zipporah! Night night.

Jesse: Tomorrow night we’re gonna check out the Bates Hotel.

Zipporah: You did not just say that.

Zipporah: Well, what’d you see.

Jesse: Nothing.

Zipporah: What do you mean, nothing? What did you see, Jesse?

Jesse: It’s an unfinished apartment. Harry Pearson’s mother could never have lived there.

Zipporah: Her original plan was to dress up as his mother and pretend she was her and order him to leave Karen alone.

Jesse: She left the wig and nightgown behind?

Zipporah: Yes.

Jesse: How do you know all that?

Zipporah: I knew she was here the whole time. She lied to you to protect me, so she says. I was the one who made the phone call in New York. She also read your diary, just so you know. And neither of us will even think about what else Karen could’ve lied to us about.

Jesse: I’m gonna pick you up from school tomorrow and we’re gonna talk to Karen about the apartment and what I find out from Dad.

Mr. Stein: I got that phone call you were waiting for, son.

Jesse: And?

Mr. Stein: There was no way anyone ever lived in the apartment. According to Mrs. Pearson, the other Mrs. Pearson had her own bedroom upstairs and never moved out. They found Harry Pearson’s body and the knife. Nothing else.

Jesse: Could they have missed something? Like a nightgown shaped something?

Mr. Stein: You two know something more than what you’re telling me? Spit it out.

Zipporah: It’s my fault. I spoke to Karen after the murder. Here.

Mr. Stein: Where is she now?

Zipporah: In the attic. She’s been here the whole time.

Mr. Stein: You’ve gotta be effing kidding me. Bring her down here!

Zipporah: Karen, are you here?

Karen: No.

Zipporah: Karen’s not here anymore.

Mr. Stein: I’m going to the cops.

Zipporah: Karen, come out now.

Jesse: There’s no proof to support your story. There’s no apartment, no wig, no nightgown.

Karen: They’re lying, Jesse.

Jesse: Dad knows everything.

Karen: Even about us?

Jesse: Karen.

Karen: Bye, squares. It’s been fun. Or something like the opposite of fun. I can’t tell which. I think I’ll go home now.

Zipporah: Well that was anticlimactic.

Mrs. Pearson: Karen’s pregnant.

Jesse: My bad.