Battle Journal

DeMar ascended the gun to eye level of Tidus, "What you gonna, do? Huh punk, come on!" I could feel the increasing pressure of the gun being jarred into my cheeks. "Come on, Tidus, say something!" DeMar was now parallel with the gun and in my dreary eyes. 

"Listen DeMar, I don't want trouble, and you don't want trouble, so please, I'm asking you to put the gun away and get off of me, alright?" I squirmed as I continued to fight the pressure of the gun on my cheek. 

"Haha, give me one reason I should let you go, nobody wants your punk ass here!" 

"Great, I'll leave, alright, now get off of me!" I shoved DeMar's hand off my cheek and the gun slipped to the ground. The fury in DeMar's eyes grew as we lunged to the floor in a scuffle for the gun. The hallway was empty as we scrambled for the gun, throwing ourselves on top of one another. DeMar reached for the gun as I clinched his opposite arm to pull him away. He got his fingers on the tip of the gun and pulled it in, "Haha, I got you now bitch!" DeMar flipped over and pointed the gun at me, "Tidus look out!" In the flash of an eye I saw Brody, my only companion, tackle DeMar just as he pulled the trigger. I dove to the floor as the bullet pelted the lockers behind me. 

The Opposite Sex

You know, I'm not sure I like this look? I feel fat when I wear tight clothes, especially jeans that are like spandex. Maybe I'm being to self conscious? Ah, that's not even possible. Should I do green or pink for my top today? Either goes well with blue bottoms...I think I'll go pink. Alright, just a little makeup for my face and another day in the life of a high school girl begins. If boys ever knew how much maintenance goes into what girls do to look their best, they'd never get married; its insane, makeups, hair brushes, nail polishers, curlers, wax kits, and on and on. Not to mention the amount of money spent on shopping for clothes every month. Basically, we girls are high maintenance and thats the way I like it. I want my better half to treat me like he would his favorite car, keeping me new and shiny, his pride and joy. Oh wow, I'm going to miss the bus, I gotta go.

Bear at the Door

"Jim, can you come here a sec?" Kate groaned from the foyer. 

"Sure, honey, what's wrong?" 

"Well, is it just me or are those people hauling a dead body out of their car?"

"Oh my God! What the hell are they doing with that thing?" Jim excitedly squeeled.

"Well what should we do, Jim? Kate covered her mouth in fear and disgust.

Jim grabbed his hunting rifle from the entryway closet, loaded it with 4 rounds, and pushed Kate behind, "Honey, just stay right there." 

"Where are you going, Jim? What are you going to do?" Kate worriedly asked.

"Honey, just stay there, you here me?" Jim demanded.

Jim ripped open the screen door and stomped across the driveway, facing the man and woman who had pulled the dead body out of their car. He cocked his rifle and yelled, "Hey, you two, what are you doing with that body?" 

"None of your business, pal. Get that gone away from us." The man retorted angrily.

"It is my business, not everyday you see a dead body being hauled around here."

"Hey body, listen, this body is my son, and he was just hit by a car on his bike, so would you shut up so we can get him help while he maybe has a chance!?" 

Jim looked closer and could see the child was still breathing as the father carried the body in his folded arms. 

Jim went back inside, put his rifle away, looked at Kate and simply said "Its just you, honey."