Sit down at a typewriter and bleed

there's this guy

Fri, 12 Apr 2013 22:57:00 -0400

so there’s this guy

we dated for eleven months

i broke up with you

because you spent a suspicious amount of time

with your sister

so there’s this guy

you were older

and i thought i loved you

but then i found out

you loved her more

so there’s this girl

you were insecure

and so was i

it didn’t work out

you said you rushed things

so there’s this guy

we both loved zombies

apparently

the walking dead isn’t

a good foundation

so there’s this guy

i liked you for three

goddamn years

you moved to a christian school

your family is fucking athiest

so there’s this guy

my friends wanted us to date

you tried to kiss me in the theater

we were next to a baby

for gods sake

so there’s this guy

we were only together for three

months but i knew i loved you

it keeps happening

it never works

katie wanted fanfiction and i am her secret love slave warning for gamzee caring for the...

Fri, 15 Mar 2013 21:28:48 -0400

katie wanted fanfiction and i am her secret love slave

warning for gamzee caring for the cherubs

Babies.

Taking care of children was practically unheard of, no, that’s what lusii were for, they were called custodians for a reason. But these two little motherfuckers didn’t have that, and who was he to leave them out there? Cold, alone, possibly starving. Nah, that wasn’t something he could handle, he had enough weight on his conscience already, but leaving two little wrigglers to fend for themselves was something he couldn’t deal with.

After all, he didn’t want to be responsible for another death.

Calliope.

She was the cuter of the two, artistic and mischievous, always giggling and bubbly. When he told her what to do, she listened, always obedient and never in trouble. Not that she’d get in trouble, anyway, he couldn’t discipline them if his life depended on it. Especially since she was such a sweetheart.

After all, he didn’t want to be responsible for anymore unhappiness.

Caliborn.

He was different than his sister, in almost every way. Isolated and particular, he chose to spend most of his time alone, quietly murmuring to himself and making everyone else feel terrible. He reminded him of himself, in a way, a bad way at that. He reminded him of the self he kept locked away, full of rage and fire, murderous and violent. But he never tried to discipline him, out of fear.

After all, he didn’t want to be responsible for another freakout.

Love.

Despite everything the two did to make him feel otherwise, he loved them. Despite all the fighting, and the occasional tear, and especially all the time spent online, he felt like a good father. He felt like he had finally accomplished something, finally raised something decent that hadn’t turned out twisted and angry, like he had.

After all, he didn’t want to be like his lusus.

Blood.

When Caliborn killed his sister, he knew he’d failed. And he accepted it.

After all, he was Gamzee Makara. Bard of Rage. Insatiable, cold blooded murderer of Nepeta Leijon and Equius Zahhak. Ex-moiral of Karkat Vantas. Current reason for Terezi Pyrope’s sudden changes.

After all, everything turned out to be his fault.

Me and You (A Poem)

Sun, 23 Dec 2012 01:47:47 -0500

i hope you choke

scratch that replace

i hope you still

love me

die slow but

not until you

realize how much

you actually mean

drink bleach

but sluggishly,

while telling me

how much you care

kill yourself,

but don’t do it

without thinking

about me

First Written Chapter of The Sticks!!

Thu, 18 Oct 2012 20:35:00 -0400

Twenty effing pages, baby!

“Derrek!” I screeched as I fumbled to get the shotgun out of my pocket pointing it straight toward Wilson’s chest, shutting my eyes as I squeezed the trigger, expecting the kick to knock back at any moment. When it didn’t, I opened my eyes cautiously, pressing the trigger once more and hearing nothing but the empty click of the gun.

Before I knew it, I was on the ground, Wilson straddling my waist as he knocked the gun out of my hands.

“She’s out of bullets!” He chuckled, tossing it into Garrett’s hands as I protested beneath him, crying out as I felt his hand crack against my face.

“Shut up, sweetheart. For God’s sake, are you really surprised I hit you? You’re coming with us, and you’re going to be fucking quiet about it, got it?”

“You’re an asshole. I hate you, I really, really do. You know, up until now, I thought maybe you weren’t as bad as everyone thought, but of course you proved me wrong.”

“Do you really think I care what you think about me, sugar? Either way, we’ve got you cornered. You can come with us willingly, or you can be dragged,” He shrugged, “Your choice.”

“And what makes you think I can’t get away?” I growled.

“I dare you to try.”

My fist clenched, and I was rearing back as I felt someone else’s hand on mine, a calloused one, at that.

“Sorry, Brandy. Really sorry. But I can’t let you get away,” Mitchell’s hand engulfed mine, “Just go along with him, okay?”

“Yeah, sweetheart,” Wilson purred, “We don’t wanna hurt you, we just want to have some fun, yeah?”

“Your definition of fun is a little sketchy, asshole.”

“Wow, a little feisty, huh? That’s alright, you’ll learn. Come on babe, you’re gonna be a Newlander whether you like it or not.”

“You guys are freaks! I hate all of you.”

“Sorry!” Mitchell cut in, eyes shifting between me and Wilson.

“Why do you even want me? Cassie or Coco, is that the black chick’s name? Either of them could fulfill your weird, sadistic fantasies, so why me?”

“Well, for starters, Cassie’s a complete moron, if you haven’t noticed, and I’ve heard that back before the world ended she was a total slut so no doubt she’d screw her way out, and Coco would break my jaw,” Wilson’s mouth stretched into a worn smile, “And trust me, darling, my weird, sadistic fantasies don’t star you. Not usually, anyway.”

“You’re a pervert, let go of me. Let Mitchell take me, I trust him more than you already,” I yanked away from him, surprised when he let go, allowing Mitchell to take my arm instead.

“Oh, sweetheart, I’m hurt. I was really hoping we could be great friends!” Wilson laughed cruelly, leading Mitchell, Garrett, and me out into the zombie infested mall, escorting us to the video store, Scene It, that he and the gang inhabited.

“I hope you die,” I spat as Mitchell discarded me into a corner, scampering off to leave Wilson to do what he pleased.

He reached for a coil of rope lying next to me, holding his hands out expectantly. I sighed, inwardly giving up as I let my wrists go limp in his hands, allowing him to bound them together.

“You know, the few sadistic fantasies about you I’ve had do start this way, darling, say, you want to make my fantasies come true?” He winked, and I snatched my wrists away.

“You’re a sicko, get away from me. You disgust me.”

“Wow, someone’s got a dirty mouth, I might just have to fix that.”

“Try anything and I’ll bite off your fucking fingers, or whatever else comes into contact with my mouth.”

He held up his hands in surrender, “Okay, okay. I’m done. Coco’s going to watch you for a little while, calm you down, make you feel a bit better, then I’m going to be back in just a little bit to feed you.”

“Feed me?” I gasped.

“Yeah, maybe once you’re a little more under control we can untie and retie you to do things like eating, but for now you’ll be needing someone to help you out. And I’ve elected myself, but don’t worry sweetheart, I’ll be gentle.”

I rolled my eyes as he blew me a kiss, rising and walking away calmly, leaving Coco in his midst.

“Hey, sweetie,” Her use of the pet name was different than his, as she said it with a motherly tone, kind and considerate, “I know you’re probably really angry with us right now, but keep in mine not all of us are as heartless as Wilson. Mitchell knows exactly what you’re going through, if you need to talk to anyone. And if you’re ever feeling bad, I’ll help you, I promise. It’ll be a rough few first weeks, but once they untie you, you’ll be one of us. And we’ll treat you like a princess. Any questions?”

“Why do you want me?”

“Because you’re a pretty girl with a good shot. Wilson’s just kidding around when he talks about his ‘sadistic fantasies’, he has a sick sense of humor sometimes. He doesn’t really realize that other people don’t find it funny.”

“Why did you tie me up in the first place?”

“Eventually, we’ll be able to trust you enough to make the assumption you won’t escape, but you have to build up that trust. You’ll get there. Are you hungry?”

I nodded begrudgingly, repulsed by the idea of Wilson feeding me.

“I’ll go get Wilson, just think Brandy, this is your incenitive to behave.”

I ignored her response, watching intently as she disappeared into the back room, returning with Wilson by her side, holding a bowl of something that smelled delicious, much better than anything I’d eaten with the Sticks in a long time.

“Sorry for my earlier behavior, sweetheart. I just wanted to mess with you, Coco’s informed me I was being rude, and that I ought to apologize. So, there you go.”

I scoffed, refusing to answer him as he took a seat in front of me, and as I reached out involuntarily to take the food, instead only feeling my hands struggle against the rope, my vision became cloudy with tears. They streaked down my face silently as I ate, resisting my urge to yank away from Wilson’s hand when he reached to wipe the tears off my face.

“Don’t cry, babydoll, it’s alright. Sooner or later you can do this yourself, maybe within a week, yeah? Sooner, if you start listening.”

I nodded silently, relieved when the bowl had been emptied. He gave me a shaky smile and went to clean up, keeping his eye on me as I scuttled over onto my side to rest. My eyes closed against my will, and I soon found myself sleeping within enemy territory.

***

When I woke up, I could hear the calls of my name from the other members of The Sticks, and I pictured Cassie wandering around aimlessly, running from the few zombies remaining in the mall as Drew trailed behind her, making sure she didn’t get too far. I pictured Derrek, teary and angry as he searched, swearing at the top of his lungs, and I hated myself. I hated myself for letting them take me, for letting them make me think everything was going to be okay.

And I hated them. I hated Wilson for being a heartless asshole, tying me up and kidnapping me. I hated Garrett for taking my gun, the bulletless gun that fucked me over in the end. I hated Coco for making it seem like everything was alright, like once I began to enjoy life with the Newlanders I’d be happy. I hated Mitchell, for being the first one they coerced into joining them, who was now lovestruck and envious of every member, I hated Mitchell for the fear that one day, I’d be just like him.

As I heard the pouding against the store front door, I hated myself because in that simple sound, I found hope. Hope that Derrek would find me and I’d go back to The Sticks, and we’d get revenge, rescuing Mitchell and luring him back to where he belonged, with the good guys, us.

All the hope slipped away as I heard Wilson hiss, “Mitch, hide her in the back room.”

Mitchell lifted me easily, carrying me into the back room as I sobbed and he apologized, continuously sorry for something he hadn’t even caused. I couldn’t imagine why he chose to live with the Newlanders, an angelic, sweet boy amidst an angry, evil group of people.

The conversation in the storefront bled through the walls and my tears dried, unable to produce anymore as Mitchell covered my mouth with one hand, rubbing my back with the other.

“I swear to God, Wilson, if you don’t give her back, you’ll be sorry!”

“Whoa there, we don’t have her.”

“You’re such a fucking liar. You’ve been after her since the day we raided you. Give. Her. Back! What do you even need her for?”

“We. Don’t. Have. Her. For the last goddam time, we don’t! Jesus.”

“You’re a heartless, lying asshole, Wilson. And I swear we’ll get revenge, and this time, we’ll do it right.”

Mitchell’s grip loosened as the bell signalling Derrek’s exit rang, and he left the back room leaving me on the small cot that, judging by the smell of her sweet perfume, was Coco’s. I managed to wiggle under the blankets, smothering the sobs I couldn’t choke back in her pillow.

Footsteps echoed as someone stepped into the room and I clenched my teeth, anyone but-

“That was close, wasn’t it sweetheart?”

Wilson.

I merely whimpered as a response, but once I gathered myself, I let out everything I’d been holding in.

“Why? Why are you doing this to me and the Sticks? You’re a complete psychopath if you think I’ll ever call myself a Newlander! I’ll always be a Stick, no matter how long I spend with you animals. I’m kind, I’m not heartless, I care about others more than myself, tell me honestly, would you die for anyone in the Newlanders?”

He was silent, scuffing his shoe slowly across the floor.

“Yeah,” I laughed, albeit cruelly, “That’s the difference between the Sticks and you guys. We’d kill, or even die for each other. We’re not just a gang, we’re a family, not whatever fucked up communism you have going on here.”

“It’s the fucking end of the world,” He replied calmly, “And during things like this, you put others before yourself. It’s just something you have to do if you expect to live. Coco, Garret, and Mitch wouldn’t die for me, either. We have a mutual understanding that we’re only together to make it easier to take down others, if it came down to it, it’s every man for themselves out here. The world was dog eat dog before, well, now it’s human eat human, and the selfish ones are the only ones surviving. I don’t care what you say, at some point during this Hell, you’ve done something selfish. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be alive right now. Did you leave your family to come here?”

“Yes, but-“

“No buts, that’s selfish. A selfless person would’ve risked their ass, probably dying in what would be a failed attempt to save their family as well. In times like these, the smart ones become selfish. And the only reason you say you’d die for the Sticks is because you don’t ever expect to have to. Now you tell me the truth, honestly would you die for anyone in the Sticks?”

At this point it was my turn to be silent, analyzing how I truly felt, my mouth went dry as I choked out, “Derrek, I would die for him. Drew or Cassie, hell no. But if me or Derrek had to live, I’d sacrifice myself. He deserves it more than I do.”

“Bullshit!” He scoffed, “I call bullshit. That’s a lie and you know it. Unless you’re in love with him, then maybe there’s a chance, but even then, love is a selfish thing. And seeing as you wouldn’t be willing to save Drew or Cassie, not only does that make you selfish, it makes you a bitch.”

“I’m not in love with him,” I muttered, avoiding his eyes.

“What’s that, princess?” He asked, sneering.

“I said I’m NOT in love with him, he just deserves life more than I do! You’re right, I am a bitch. If anyone in the Sticks deserves to live, it’s Derrek. He really would die for us, any of us. And that’s why there’s no way he’d be the one to survive. You’re right, okay? I admit it, you’re right. Only the selfish survive!”

“Glad you finally see it my way, angel. And now you know why none of the Newlanders would die for each other.”

“I bet Mitchell would die for you. Or Coco. Maybe even Garrett, he’s the only decent one of you, and I bet he’d sacrifice anything for your respect.”

“Mitchell is different than the rest of us. He’s young, naive. Eventually, just like you, he’ll come to the realization that you can’t be so goddamn nice. You have to break hearts and risk lives to get what you want in life.”

“What did you do?” I asked, attempting to tear the subject matter away from something so depressing, “What was your life like before all this?”

“Well, I worked in an office. As an intern, I was studying for a degree in business, I wanted to start a company and get rich. In terms of my personal life, I didn’t really date, it was college, you know? As nerdy as it sounds, I focused on my studies, I figured I could start dating once I made it to the working world. I guess my chance for any of that is over now. What about you?”

“I worked in a bookstore on campus, I was studying to be a teacher, actually. Science. I really wanted to help kids. I didn’t really have a boyfriend, not because I didn’t want one or anything, but because no one wanted…me. I was in a sorority, but mostly for the cred that came with it, I wasn’t a super party girl or anything. The perfect life, I suppose, but of course that came crashing down onto my shoulders.”

“Did you know Derrek or Cassie or Drew before?”

“I knew Cassie, she was my best friend in high school, and she knew Drew, who had tutored her at some point during college, and he knew Derrek, so it was like this friend of a friend of a friend thing going on, and we kind of just happened to all be in the right place at the right time, I guess. Did you know Coco and Garrett? And how did Mitchell start running with you guys?”

“I knew Coco, because of…reasons, and Garrett was my roommate, so yeah, I knew the both of them. And Mitchell was kind of like you, very…difficult. He refused to be apart of us at first, but soon he became vicitm to Coco’s…charms. And as that went on, he began to take a liking to me, and he just sort of accepted it.”

“And you think that’s going to happen with me?” I gritted my teeth, feeling the rage I’d containted earlier bubbling back up.

“Yes, except maybe someone else will have to do the charming this time,” He winked, and just like that, every feeling of remorse I had for hating him faded.

“Leave,” I commanded, voice soft.

“But-“

“Please,” I choked on the word, “Just. Please.”

I could’ve sworn I heard a muffled apology as he left the room, but to say so would be to admit that I was hallucinating.

I felt myself falling asleep, finally at peace again now that everything had calmed down and I had reincforced my hatred toward him, rather than warming up to the sweet side that emerged when he wanted something.

The next time I woke up, it was by force as I felt myself being lifted, and by instinct screamed and attempted to flail, but upon the realization I was bound at the wrists, kicked instead.

“Jesus Christ!” The voice above me groaned, dropping me as he hit the floor, landing next to me on his knees, “You kick hard, you little bitch.”

“Sorry,” I muttered, too asleep to realize that hey, I’d kicked Wilson, and I actually wasn’t sorry at all.

“It’s really not okay. Kiss it and make it better?” He grinned, and I rolled my eyes.

“Die.”

“Wow, someone’s cheerful.”

“Someone’s still an asshole.”

“All for you, my darling. How did you sleep?”

“Fantastically considering I’m tied up. How long is this going to last, by the way?”

“A few weeks, maybe. Not much longer, as long as you don’t try to escape.”

“I’m pretty sure I couldn’t escape if I tried between you, Coco, and Garrett?”

“What about Mitch?”

“I really don’t think he’d try too hard. He knows how this feels.”

“Why are you so against joining us, anyway? Like, for real?”

“Because I was a part of the Sticks. I belonged with them, they were my family. They were the only sense of home I had left, and you ripped me away from that just because you need someone who could shoot a gun. Before that, when we were at war, you tried to kill us, more than once, how could I just accept being involved in something along with people who tried to murder my family? And let’s not forget the fact you’re keeping me tied up.”

“If I untie you until the others wake up, will you tell?”

“Um, obviously not if it means I can actually move my hands.”

He reached around me, fighting with the rope for what seemed like forever before the rope dropped onto the sheets of the cot he’d set up for me.

“Thank you,” I breathed, rubbing my tender wrists as he stared at me, “What?”

“I think that’s the first time you’ve expressed any gratitude toward me. But back to what we were talking about, you’re better off with us, sweetheart. We’re stronger, smarter, and there’s more of us, now that we have you. We’re going to come out better in the end, and like I said in our little talk earlier, the selfish will survive longer than the selfless, and same goes for the worriers and the fearless.”

“I can’t be fearless when every sense of safety I had to hold onto has been jerked out from underneath me. I can’t just readjust to you guys when I’m used to people like Derrek, Cassie, and Drew.”

“Angel, we weren’t trying to take away your ‘safety’,” He scoffed at the word, “We’re trying to make sure we make it out alive. Why don’t you like me like you liked Derrek? We hold the same position.”

“You don’t have the same history Derrek and I do. I’ve known him for a year, at least. You don’t know me like he does, and you sure as hell don’t care half as much.”

“How do you know I don’t care? I obviously do, if I didn’t, I would’ve fed you to the zombies a long time ago. It would keep them at bay for a while. But since I care, I’ve kept you alive, whether you’re our captive or not. And, hey, I even untied you for a while. As for not knowing you, that can change, yeah? Let’s play twenty questions.”

“No.”

“Come on, please, doll? I untied you, now it’s your turn for a favor.”

“Fine, but I get to go first.”

“Deal,” He winked, tapping my wrist and mouthing, “Go.”

“Um, did you have any siblings…before?”

“Yes, I had a sister. Her name was Jennifer Lee, but everyone called her Jay Lee, don’t ask me why, it was upon her request. She was five years younger than myself, and she was fifteen when she died, which also happens to be the moment I gave up on caring for anyone besides myself,” He took a moment, shutting his eyes and breathing inward, “Now you answer your question, and I’ll ask one afterward.”

“I had two brothers, they were twins. Their names were Victor and Dimitri. They were half brothers actually, ten years younger than me. They…I’m not sure when they died. When I caught wind of what was going on, I ran. I wanted to keep the hope that somewhere, somehow, they could be out there, waiting for all this to blow over.”

“I’m sorry,” He replied, taking my hand as I started crying for the hundredth time since I’d began to stay with the Newlanders, “It’s my turn, I suppose. I’ll start off easy and impersonal, what’s your favorite color?”

“Green,” I answered, “It reminds me of gardening, which I used to love doing. Yours?”

“Red, it was one of the colors for a soccer team Jay Lee used to be on, and I fell in love with it.”

Minutes passed quickly as we shot questions back and forth, and within the short time span of twenty minutes we were into the swing of the game, answering and asking without missing a beat.

“Do you hate me?” He asked, his hand long gone from mine.

“No.”

“I don’t hate you either.”

“Okay, my turn. What was your first kiss like?”

“I was in seventh grade, some eight grade girl kissed me behind a tree on the last day of school on a dare. I don’t really remember much. I think her name was Elizabeth. Yours?”

“I was in tenth grade, wow, you were kind of young-“

“You mean you were a little old,” He teased, “But continue.”

“It was with this boy named Jeremy, he was my first real boyfriend, to be honest. So. Yeah.”

“Interesting,” He smirked, “Why don’t you hate me?”

“Because you don’t deserve it. As you said, you’re just trying to survive. Deep down, I understand. I mean, you haven’t done anything to hurt me. Not intentionally, anyway. Why don’t you hate me?”

“Because I don’t have a reason to? I’m the one that kidnapped you, remember?”

“Alright. What’s your best memory pre-apocalypse?”

“Teaching Jay Lee to ride a bike. When I was eleven and she was six, she begged mom and dad to teach her, but they were too busy. It was always ‘Maybe tomorrow, Jennifer Lee’ or ‘Bike riding is foolish, go learn your ABCs’ and eventually, I got tired of hearing it. So I taught her myself. And I remember feeling so proud of her the first time she rode without training wheels, when she pedaled her way down the driveway giggling and happy, and so so proud of herself.”

“Mine has to be the first time I went to the mall without my parents. I was sixteen, and that’s the first thing I did when I got to drive by myself. Cassie and I headed to the mall, granted, we had no money to spend, but it just felt great not having to be chauferred around by our parents, you know? That first taste of freedom.”

“I’ll take that. What’s your favorite memory post-apocalypse.”

“You’ll make fun of me.”

“No I won’t, I swear. Unless it’s mind blowingly stupid.”

“Well, it is, but whatever. Okay, back before we found the mall, Derrek, Cassie, Drew, and I were staying in this emptied out mansion, we had a pretty sweet life there, too, until the zombies started finding their way in. But anyway, there was one time that Cassie and Drew were out on a raid, and Derrek and I were making them a cake since everyone was kind of upset and this was at the very beginning, so we were all just kind of getting into it. And that was the first time he kissed me, and I was such a little loser girl back then, I hadn’t been kissed since Jeremy, and I kind of idolized him, you know? It was like he was a celebrity in my eyes.”

“Wow. Um, I’m not going to make fun of you, but that kind of sucks that that’s your best memory, not gonna lie. Mine is when we found the mall. Coco, Garrett, and I had been travelling for weeks, packed in a car like anchovies, just ready to find somewhere to settle down. And boom, the mall came out of fuckin’ nowhere. It was the perfect paradise, and it was just so easy to get into, and to barricade, and it was probably my greatest victory ever. And then you fuckers squirmed your way in.”

“You love us for it,” I smiled, “Why didn’t your parents teach Jay L-I mean Jennifer, to ride a bike?”

He sighed, pulling a hand through his hair, “They weren’t good parents, honestly. I mean, they didn’t abuse us or anything, but they worked a lot. Never really had time to actually parent us. A nanny raised me, and I raised Jay Lee, and you can call her that, it’s fine. I guess you can’t really answer that question, so I’ll move on. And you probably knew this was coming, but I’m going to ask anyway. Are you a virgin?”

I groaned, “Yes, if it matters. I don’t see how it does, but whatever. Are you?”

“No,” He smiled mischeviously, “I can fix that for you.”

“Christ, I was starting to think you were a gentleman.”

“Don’t even start, princess. Your turn.”

“Why do you call people by pet names?”

“What do you mean?”

“You know, like how you call me ‘princess’ and ‘sweetheart’, stuff like that?”

He shrugged, “It’s stuff I used to call Jay Lee, I guess. It just kind of stuck. It’s out of habit more than anything. And most of all, I like to see you blush.”

“I don’t blush!” I protested, feeling my cheeks heat up in spite of my statement.

He pinched my cheek, “Alright, whatever you say, sweetheart. Why do you hate your stepdad?”

“He used to make me do everything my ‘parents’ should have been doing, sort of like yours I guess. Up until I was ten and the twins were born, it was cleaning the house, afterward, it was taking care of Victor and Dimitri, along with cooking, and cleaning. I was basically their slave until I turned eighteen, which is why my freedom was, and is, so important to me.”

“Sorry to break the pattern, and you can ask me two questions after this, but what happened to your real dad?”

“He died when I was two, I didn’t really know him. He had cancer. Lung, I think. Anyway, yeah, he died, and my mom remarried when I was three. So, my stepdad basically raised me, if that’s what you call forcing me to do all the housework.”

“Oh…you’re turn, then.”

“My first question is…did you ever play sports.”

“I was really into hockey, actually. I loved it. Football was a little too coordinated and preplanned for my taste, and I liked being able to use something other than my actual hands.”

“I was a cheerleader-“

“Obviously,” He smirked.

“Anyway, I was a cheerleader, I didn’t really like it, but my mom did, and it got me away from the house. So, yeah. Go team!”

“Now what’s your second question?”

“Since you’ve properly embarassed me, it’s your turn. When you dragged me out here, were you really kidding about your ‘sadistic fantasies’ starting with you tying me up?”

“Um…yeah. I was, sort of. Half truth, half lie. I’m not going to lie about it, I’ve had fantasies about you before, they just weren’t necessarily…sadistic. I just wanted to freak you out with the rope thing. What about you, little Miss Innocence, have you ever had any fantasies starring me?”

I felt myself blush as I looked down at my toes, “No. Up until this point, I was convinced you were a complete dick. Besides, I don’t really have…fantasies. I’m not that kind of girl.”

“Oh whatever,” He scoffed, “It’s always the virgins.”

“Shut up!”

“Never. My turn. What’s your favorite word?”

I thought for a second, before finally replying, “Poinsettia. What’s yours?”

“Chintzy.”

“Nice. On a scale of 1-10, how attracted to me are you?”

“Very,” He replied smirking, leaning slightly closer as I giggled nervously.

“That’s not on the scale.”

“It could be,” He closed the distance between us, his lips just barely grazing mine before I pushed him away.

“Stop!” I cried, scuttling away from him.

“Why?”

“Because. Just..stop.”

“I’m sorry,” He whispered, looking hurt, “I thought you wanted me to.”

“I didn’t. Just…don’t, okay? I…I just don’t want you to.”

I curled into my knees, and ignored the thoughts flashing through my head.

You stupid girl…you did want him to. Why did you stop?

Whore! It’s your fault for flirting with him, that’s the only reason he came onto you.

Derrek would be so disappointed to see you now..

And the one that surprisingly cut in through the rest, sounding exactly like Wilson, Wow, little Miss Innocent, liked that more than you wanted to, huh?

My heart continued racing as he moved toward my ear whispering, “Coco’s awake, damn her, always early. I have to tie you back up.”

I nodded, slightly relieved as the crossed behind me, knotting the ropes slightly looser than before, allowing the tiniest room for adjusting them against the rope.

As promised, Coco entered the living room, her usually bouncy curls looking rustled and messy as she stifled a yawn, flopping down next to Wilson and me.

“Morning, you two. You look rather guilty, have you been doing something…naughty?” She giggled.

We exchanged a glance before he pushed her, possibly playfully, possibly meaning it, and stalked off spitting out an “Over my dead body!” behind his back.

She snickered, looking at me, “You ready for some breakfast? I’ll be feeding you this time, Mr. Grouchy Pants is a little too flustered.”

The days passed rather uneventfully after that, with Wilson avoiding me since the incident with the kiss, and soon enough, I was allowed to be untied while I ate, and allowed to change clothes and shower, under the supervision of Coco, but still. Shower!

I eventually began to trust Coco, allowing her to help me with things I did need help with, my hands being tied and all. Mitchell warmed up to me a little bit, chatting with me on occasion about how he became a Newlander and how much I’d like it, and even Garrett grunted at me every so often. Soon enough, Wilson was the only one acting strange around me, disregarding whenever I spoke to him, and basically ignoring my existence entirely.

One particular morning, I was pressed face down in the floor tile, a sick feeling in my stomach, possibly from expired food, but who knows. That’s not the significance of the story. But I remember being face down, footfalls banging heavily against the outside off the store.

I heard Wilson swear before anything else, and Coco and Garrett were suddenly on their feet, pushing objects in front of the doorway, blocking the undead who were hovering around the entrance from making their way inside. I was genuinely confused as to why they were suddenly on the top level, but with my face against the ground, I couldn’t hear much.

Suddenly, I was being yanked to my feet, swept into the backroom with the others as all the lights flickered off in the front of the store. Coco followed us back, and I looked up with confusion as to who was carrying me, my heart sinking slightly when I realized it was only Mitchell.

“Sorry,” He murmured, “I know you feel kinda sick right now, but it’s kind of important they don’t figure out we’re in here…”

“Where’s Wilson?” I asked, glancing around.

“He’s making sure they can’t get in, he’ll be back here with us soon,” He replied.

“Okay,” I muttered, allowing him to drop me onto his bed.

He sank down next to me, and I sat up to the best of my ability once I heard footsteps entering the room. Sure enough, it was Wilson, hair hanging down into his eyes as he shuffled his way into the room, silently motioning toward his bed and pulling me up.

I followed him, laying facing away from him as my breathing slowed, and I felt my eyes closing, feeling my sense of safety return. I found it in Wilson, and while that thought made me slightly uncomfortable, I continued to drift until I was not only finding safety in him, but in my dreams.

What couldn’t have been more than a few hours later, I was being shaken awake, and as my eyes snapped open, he whispered, “We need to talk.”

“Can you untie me?” I asked, eyes begging him until he sighed, holding out his hands.

I placed my wrists in his hands, allowing him to untangle the rope until it fell with a soft noise against she sheets.

“What do you want to talk about?” I whispered back, avoiding his eyes.

“Look at me,” He demanded, then caught himself on his tone of voice, “Sorry…just. Look at me, alright? I’m not going to…whatever.”

I met his gaze, resisting the urge to cringe back when his hand covered my own, his thumb stroking gentle circles into my skin.

“Where do we stand?” He asked, focusing on his thumb rather than me when he spoke.

“What do you mean?”

“Like, are we friends? Enemies? Aqquaintances?”

“Friends. I think. If you want to be.”

“I do, but why do you want to be?”

“I feel safe with you. Like I did around the Sticks. It’s like…it’s like this is my home now. You guys are like family to me. Not to say more so than the Sticks, but I love you guys, and I feel safe here. Especially now, when you’re so close I could reach out and touch you. I hate it when you’re not talking to me, even before that night we played twenty questions. I couldn’t stand you, but I still felt awful when you weren’t around. It’s like you’re my guardian.”

“I’m sorry for ignoring you, sweetheart, but I didn’t know if you wanted to talk to me after what happened the other night. I honestly though you hated me.”

“I told you I didn’t hate you. Trying to kiss me doesn’t give me a reason to hate you…and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t consider kissing back. I am attracted to you, a lot, actually…I just, can’t. I can’t kiss you and then let you knock me around when we’re around everyone else.”

“I promise, once you’re out of these ropes, you’ll be like a queen around here. Mitch worships everyone, Coco has this idea that you’re her new BFF, and you know how I feel.”

“What about Garrett?”

“He doesn’t really have an opinion. On anything, or anyone. Can we play another game?”

“I guess.”

“Tell me stuff about you that you want me to know. I don’t care what. Anything. And I’ll do the same.”

“Alright…my full name is Brandy Myra Johnson, I was born on July 18th, which means I’m a Cancer. I used to want a big family, but now that this has happened I’m reconsidering, my favorite food is lasagna, I usually like really quiet boys, and bookstores are my favorite places in the universe. When I was really young, I was homeschooled, so I didn’t have very many friends, and I loved reading. I still do, there’s just nothing to read anymore, and nothing seems very exciting when you’re living in a horror novel yourself.”

“My full name is Wilson Brooks Smith, I was born on August 16th, I have no idea what the hell that makes me. I’ve always disliked kids, and this is kind of reinforcing that belief with bloodthirsty brats running rampant, my favorite food is sushi, I like girls who get embarassed easily, and I love anywhere near water. When I was younger, I wasn’t allowed to read, since my parents saw it as frivolous, but I didn’t have very many friends either.”

“You never gave me a real answer. On a scale of one to ten, how attracted to me are you?” I asked.

“I did give you an answer, I just don’t have the time to figure out a number to express it. The answer is ‘very’. As it always will be.”

“Well, that’s boring. When did you realize you were attracted to me?”

“You were always the one I was most interested in, out of The Sticks, anyway. But I probably realized the lust for you when I was sitting on top of you, your shotgun in my hand while you screamed about me being an asshole.”

“You slapped me that day,” I said in way of reply, feeling my heart sink when I remembered the sound his hand made against my cheek, unconciously pressing my palm against the spot where it had landed.

“I know, and I regret it. More than you will ever know, I promise. I was…a different person at that moment. I was more concerned with trying to get you back here than your safety, or my attraction to you.”

“Promise?”

He rolled his eyes, “Promise.”

“So, are we okay now?”

“We’re golden, angel.”

And with that he leaned down, pausing for a second to make sure I wasn’t going to push him away, and brushed his lips over mine, light as a feather. My heart sped up despite the slow movement of his lips over mine, a leisurely kiss rather than something feverish.

“God, I’ve wanted to kiss you for so long,” He groaned as he pulled back for air, “But I’m so tired. Time for bed, alright? I’m going to tie you up now, is that okay?”

I nodded, knowing that if the others were to wake up to me being free, they’d know something was going on. He binded my wrists, admiteddly less tightly than usual, then assisted me in laying back down, holding himself over me as he kissed me softly, murmuring, “Good night,” against my ear as he pulled away, returning to his side of the bed.

I slept well that night, nightmares gone for the first time in the weeks he and I hadn’t been talking, completely unaware of the real nightmare that was soon to come.

Coco woke me up early the next morning, and I was unsuprised to see Mitch and Wilson nowhere to be found. He’d told me they were going on a raid as soon as the zombies cleared out to figure out what had caused it, and I was just as curious as anyone else.

“Moooorning, sunshine!” She chirped, dragging me into the kitchen and cheerily untying my hands as she fixed our breakfasts, setting them side by side on the makeshift table in the store front.

“Morning,” I grumbled, spooning cereal into my mouth.

“Are you feeling better?”

“Much,” I admitted, “You should really toss that stuff out, alright? Before someone else gets sick, too.”

“I’ll do it asap, darling.”

Garrett lumbered slowly into the kitchen, assembling some sort of breakfast out of various things spread out on the counter.

“Morning!” Coco chirped, and he grunted in response before making his way into the back room with his food.

“How has he gone this long? He doesn’t do anything,” I whispered.

She laughed, shaking her head, “None of us really know. But the way I look at it, he can always sit on me if I upset him, and that’s not something I’d like to happen.”

I nodded, opening my mouth to reply, but interrupted by the bang of the store door against the wall, Wilson and Mitchell both panting as the door slammed shut, rattling against its frame.

“Wow, slow down you two. Are you getting chased?”

“No-I mean, yes, but that’s-“

Wilson sighed, cutting Mitchell off, “Yes. Barricade the doors. But that’s not what the huge problem is here. I’ll explain later, right now I really, really need to talk to Brandy. Alone. Back room, please. Both of you.”

Mitchell started to protest but Wilson fixed him, steely eyed, before growling, “Go.”

Coco ushered him into the back room, leaving us at the store front to move the objects that littered the floor back against the door, until finally it was stacked, keeping whatever was outside where it belonged.

“Fuck,” He sighed, pushing his hand back through his hair before locking his fingers in mine, pulling me to the ground with him.

“What?”

He laughed hysterically, his eyes shifting in every direction, “I really don’t know how to tell you this.”

In that moment, I felt my heart sinking. Something had happened, something bad, something that didn’t really affect him, but that effected me.

No.

You know what’s going on, Brandy. It’s obvious.

It can’t be that!

“Tell me, Wilson,” I demanded, snatching my hand away, unsurprised when he took it again, circling the skin with his thumb the way he’d done when we played twenty questions.

“Brandy…the Sticks…they’re dead. I’m so fucking sorry, and I want you to know it’s not our fault. We didn’t do it, I swear. I just…God, I’m so, so fucking sorry.”

And suddenly, I was screaming. Just screaming, no words in particular, just a wild, animalistic noise ripping from my throat until I choked, dissolving into sobs and tears as I curled into him, clinging to his chest as tears streamed down my face.

“Jesus, I’m sorry.”

“No,” I whispered, voice already hoarse as my fingers twisted into his shirt, “They can’t be. You’re wrong.”

He shook his head, rubbing his eyes, “I’m not lying, sugar. I wish I was, honestly. I know…I know what they meant to you. But they’re gone…I promise. I wouldn’t lie about this, and I wouldn’t tell you before I was absolutely sure.”

“Oh my god,” I felt myself trembling, not even crying anymore, just shaking as he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me slowly into his lap, wiping away the tears that still clung to my face.

“Shh, it’s alright. It’s not okay now, but it will be. You have us, we’re her for you. We’re going to keep you safe, we’re your family, remember?”

I felt my eyes get heavy, I was always a sleepy crier. And as he rocked me, stroking my hair and murmuring about how it was going to be okay, the overwhelming sense of safety returned, breaking through the haze of sadness like sunshine after a thunderstorm.

And I hated myself for it.

A basic breakdown on relationships in The Sticks so I don't get confused ~Spoilers ooo~

Mon, 15 Oct 2012 14:46:00 -0400

~The Past~

Cassie and Drew hooked up, but never dated.

Cassie and Brandy were best friends in high school.

Drew worked with Derrek.

When Brandy and Derrek met, she had a crush on him, they may have dated briefly.

Wilson used to watch Coco dance at strip clubs, their relationship never went any further than that. (And being friends on the side)

Wilson and Garrett were college roommates.

Mitchell was forced into the Newlanders, did not consider himself a part of them until Coco “charmed” into it. Charmed may or may not mean had sex with. You decide.

~Present~

Drew and Cassie are still hooking up on occasion.

Derrek is in love with Brandy, but only because she reminds him of his ex girlfriend, who died to become a zombie and try to eat him.

Wilson is sexually attracted to Brandy, she hates his guts.

He is not, however, romantically attracted to her. He doesn’t want a relationship.

Mitchell has possible man-crush on Wilson. Will not lead to ANYTHING.

Mitchell has very real raging crush on Coco, still won’t lead to anything.

Garrett is alone.

Coco is very much in love with herself. Teases Mitchell a lot.

~Future~

The Sticks die just like your dreams

Wilson becomes romantically attracted to Brandy.

Brandy stops hating Wilson, they are together. (Sort of.)

Coco is still in love with herself.

Garrett is alone.

Mitchell dies alone.

I’m taking the Stephenie Meyer approach and writing from the basic middle of the story when it...

Mon, 15 Oct 2012 14:36:00 -0400

I’m taking the Stephenie Meyer approach and writing from the basic middle of the story when it comes to The Sticks (a temporary title, considering The Sticks aren’t even the focus) to the end, and then rewriting from the beginning to the scene i wrote to start out with… so yeah, here’s what i have written so far (My grammar is much better when i write, no worries)

it’s in brandy’s point of view so yeah that’s probably important

tw: slurs, i guess? idk, this might be triggering. idk. i really don’t.

Before I knew it, I was on the ground, Wilson straddling my waist as he knocked the gun out of my hands.

“She’s out of bullets!” He chuckled, tossing it into Garrett’s hands as I protested beneath him, crying out as I felt his hand crack against my face.

“Shut up, sweetheart. For God’s sake, are you really surprised I hit you? You’re coming with us, and you’re going to be fucking quiet about it, got it?”

“You’re an asshole. I hate you, I really, really do. You know, up until now, I thought maybe you weren’t as bad as everyone thought, but of course you proved me wrong.”

“Do you really think I care what you think about me, sugar? Either way, we’ve got you cornered. You can come with us willingly, or you can be dragged,” He shrugged, “Your choice.”

“And what makes you think I can’t get away?” I growled.

“I dare you to try.”

My fist clenched, and I was rearing back as I felt someone else’s hand on mine, a calloused one, at that.

“Sorry, Brandy. Really sorry. But I can’t let you get away,” Mitchell’s hand engulfed mine, “Just go along with him, okay?”

“Yeah, sweetheart,” Wilson purred, “We don’t wanna hurt you, we just want to have some fun, yeah?”

“Your definition of fun is a little sketchy, asshole.”

“Wow, a little feisty, huh? That’s alright, you’ll learn. Come on babe, you’re gonna be a Newlander whether you like it or not.”

“You guys are freaks! I hate all of you.”

“Sorry!” Mitchell cut in, eyes shifting between me and Wilson.

“Why do you even want me? Cassie or Coco, is that the black chick’s name? Either of them could fulfill your weird, sadistic fantasies, so why me?”

“You’re a pervert, let go of me. Let Mitchell take me, I trust him more than you already,” I yanked away from him, surprised when he let go, allowing Mitchell to take my arm instead.

“I hope you die,” I spat as Mitchell discarded me into a corner, scampering off to leave Wilson to do what he pleased.

He reached for a coil of rope lying next to me, holding his hands out expectantly. I sighed, inwardly giving up as I let my wrists go limp in his hands, allowing him to bound them together.

“You know, the few sadistic fantasies about you I’ve had do start this way, darling, say, you want to make my fantasies come true?” He winked, and I snatched my wrists away.

“You’re a sicko, get away from me. You disgust me.”

“Wow, someone’s got a dirty mouth, I might just have to fix that.”

“Try anything and I’ll bite off your fucking fingers, or whatever else comes into contact with my mouth.”

“Feed me?” I gasped.

I rolled my eyes as he blew me a kiss, rising and walking away calmly, leaving Coco in his midst.

“Why do you want me?”

“Why did you tie me up in the first place?”

“Eventually, we’ll be able to trust you enough to make the assumption you won’t escape, but you have to build up that trust. You’ll get there. Are you hungry?”

I nodded begrudgingly, repulsed by the idea of Wilson feeding me.

“I’ll go get Wilson, just think Brandy, this is your incenitive to behave.”

“Sorry for my earlier behavior, sweetheart. I just wanted to mess with you, Coco’s informed me I was being rude, and that I ought to apologize. So, there you go.”

“Don’t cry, babydoll, it’s alright. Sooner or later you can do this yourself, maybe within a week, yeah? Sooner, if you start listening.”

***

All the hope slipped away as I heard Wilson hiss, “Mitch, hide her in the back room.”

The conversation in the storefront bled through the walls and my tears dried, unable to produce anymore as Mitchell covered my mouth with one hand, rubbing my back with the other.

“I swear to God, Wilson, if you don’t give her back, you’ll be sorry!”

“Whoa there, we don’t have her.”

“You’re such a fucking liar. You’ve been after her since the day we raided you. Give. Her. Back! What do you even need her for?”

“We. Don’t. Have. Her. For the last goddam time, we don’t! Jesus.”

“You’re a heartless, lying asshole, Wilson. And I swear we’ll get revenge, and this time, we’ll do it right.”

Footsteps echoed as someone stepped into the room and I clenched my teeth, anyone but-

“That was close, wasn’t it sweetheart?”

Wilson.

I merely whimpered as a response, but once I gathered myself, I let out everything I’d been holding in.

He was silent, scuffing his shoe slowly across the floor.

“Yes, but-“

“I’m not in love with him,” I muttered, avoiding his eyes.

“What’s that, princess?” He asked, sneering.

“Glad you finally see it my way, angel. And now you know why none of the Newlanders would die for each other.”

“I bet Mitchell would die for you. Or Coco. Maybe even Garrett, he’s the only decent one of you, and I bet he’d sacrifice anything for your respect.”

“What did you do?” I asked, attempting to tear the subject matter away from something so depressing, “What was your life like before all this?”

“Did you know Derrek or Cassie or Drew before?”

Character Planning for The Sticks

Sun, 14 Oct 2012 13:54:00 -0400

Characters-The Sticks:

Brandy Myra Johnson: Main character, nineteen years old. Badass with a shotgun, but undeniably sensitive. Wears her heart on her sleeve, afraid to make anyone upset. (Besides the zombies and the Newlanders, of course…) Constantly regrets that she’ll never be able to do anything she dreamed of.

Derek Tyler Newman: Unofficial leader of the Sticks, twenty-two years old. Uses whatever weapon’s available, tries to make the best out of the worst. Very said deep down, but hides it with a smile and his happy go lucky actions. Kills zombies and injures the Newlanders for fun. Misses his girlfriend.

Cassandra “Cassie” Elizabeth Taylor: Doesn’t know how she got this far, eighteen years old. Swords are her thing, can’t figure out how guns work. Afraid of the world, often leaves killing to the others. Just wants to go home, looks back on how she used to act with regret.

Drew Anderson: Resident genius, twenty years old. Runs in bad situations. Lover, not a fighter. Hatches elaborate plans against the Newlanders. Tired of everyone and everything, stays silent the good majority of the time.

The Newlanders:

Wilson Brooks Smith: Leader of the Newlanders, twenty years old. Knife thrower, hates the Sticks with a passion, dreams of capturing and using all of them as zombie bait. Heartless, lives to make other people miserable. Wants the simple times to be back, not that he’d admit it.

Garrett Vick Rhodes: No one can figure out how he survived this long, twenty-four years old. Massive, master at hand to hand combat. Ignores everyone’s existence besides his own. Knows how to handle himself, socially awkward. Hates everyone, even pre-zombies.

Coco Young: Total succubus, twenty-one years old. Can make nearly anything into a weapon in a sticky situation. Master at running in high heels, hates fucking up her nails. Her anger for the zombies is fueled by her hatred of looking dirty and disgusting as she does. Ready to get out of the apocalypse already.

Mitchell Freeze: Starstruck, eighteen years old. Bow and arrow, kind of obsessed with Wilson. Possible man crush. Fangirls over the other members, surprised he managed to join forces with them. Secretly loves the apocalypse since he can spend more time with them.

It was a narrow street, two lanes just barely squeezed in between the sidewalks resting parallel on...

Fri, 28 Sep 2012 21:27:00 -0400

It was a narrow street, two lanes just barely squeezed in between the sidewalks resting parallel on each side. Houses lined the concrete, fenced in and grassy, the kind Mae had dreamed of living in, the kind her family couldn’t afford. Her bike coasted smoothly down the flat concrete, unlike the pothole ridden one in her own neighborhood, and as the wind danced across her face and her eyes watered, she could pretend that she was at home.

Her imagination ran wild, would her father be a doctor? A lawyer? Her mother would assume the role she’d always wished to play, lazy housewife to a rich man, staying at home, barely having to lift a finger other than to change the television channel and make herself more fancy drinks. The bike she was riding would be replaced by a car, her sweet sixteenth birthday present, something shiny and expensive.

A loud screech echoed through the quiet air, jerking her away from her reverie and hurtling her back into reality as she felt the bike begin to wobble. Squeezing the break, her knuckles turned white from the force, and she felt it begin to tip underneath her, planting a foot firmly on the ground to stop it as she snuck a glance behind her to see what had caused the near crash.

A single nail, tiny and rusty, rolled down the thin concrete, a minuscule blemish in the otherwise perfect suburb. Shrugging, she began to pedal away, ignoring the feeling of secret joy swelling inside her at the realization that maybe everything was not the way it seemed.