February Writing Contest

May the odds be ever in your favor….

We’ve just had three snow days, and there will be so much to do when we are back. However–last year this blog and I sponsored writing contests, and I’ve been meaning to bring them back! This week was my chance to revive these contests!

Here is how it works:

  1. You will need to log in as a contributor. See directions in the MC Student E-mail.
  2. Write something, contribute.
  3. Don’t use your full name: use an avatar name, but make sure you e-mail me and let me know what piece is yours. Submit by February 27.
  4. Winners will be announced the end of February. There will be a new contest in March.

For February, write an imaginary love letter. It can’t be real human-to-human, but something else–a bug, a god or goddess, novel character, fork to toaster…whatever. Keep it school appropriate, and be creative! The letters will be judged on creativity, persuasiveness, and ideas by anonymous ELA teachers. Seventh and eighth graders can submit.

Remember this is for fun and creativity — not for grades, not to distract you from other work.

Happy Writing!

Mrs. Love



Read the book for free: https://books.google.com/books/about/Frankenstein.html?id=4GnQgbsCt9UC&source=kp_cover&hl=en
Read the book for free.

I’m not sure if any of you writers out there are checking this site over the summer, but I’ll keep posting if you’re interested. I came across this writing contest:



Check it out if you have time.


MayDay: by Haven

I’ll never forget the first time I heard them argue, the first time everything went downhill, having to act like everything’s perfect after that and still to this day act like nothing happened. I hate having to act perfect in front of everyone around us. Mom and Dad drink like they breathe, it’s like there second nature. Every day I wake up thinking how lucky I am but really am I? I know I have a Mom and Dad but do they argue as much? Do they drink as much? Please. Help me.

Everything went bad when 7th grade started, Mom and Dad have drunken to the point where they pass out before and argued before but not when it’s every few weeks. Each time they fought I fooled myself into thinking that it was only going to happen once but no it happened and each time it was more constant. Dad worked different days then mom, the weekend was when they would spend time together and drink and hangout yet each time they hung out with each other I had this small concern that it would happen again and it did. My younger brother and I acted like we didn’t notice the arguments or move on like the argument never happened. As weeks went on we never spoke about the arguments, acted like the perfect family, like we were trapped in a dollhouse.

When the first week of April came we went to a friend’s house, mom and dad got drunk. As we left Mom was annoyed with Dad and they argued in the car, my dad got so irritated that he almost hit another car and drove home. Mom thought he hit the car and was so scared and Dad didn’t care, then that day was the first time I ever said anything to them while they were arguing. I told them it was enough and for them to stop arguing and to calm down and after that we moved on from the night before. Whenever conflict arises mom, dad and my brother all forget about the argument but I always remember the disagreement. Help me. The disagreements were always the on the right on schedule and was always in a pattern. I’ve been so sick about their arguments that I’ve wanted to say something but I’m scared of the consequences that would come.

Once 8th grade started Mom and Dad started arguing less but when they did it was much scarier. They would fight about bills, money and the scariest thing of all to a kid, divorce. They would argue at least once or twice a month, then everything changed Mom and Dad would argue over the smallest things or fight out of nowhere and at random times like, at home in the car and grandma’s house. One year past when dad almost hit a car and we went back to our friend’s house and it happened again but I think this time was the worst fight of it all. Mom and Dad went out with the adults and left me in charge they left and came back four hours later. When they came back they were drunk and I could tell that Mom was irritated with everyone and dad was just relaxed and just wanted to go home. She got mad at him in the car and they started yelling at each other, my brother and I told them to stop and to relax but neither of them would listen. As they were yelling at each other Mom tried to get out of the car while it was moving but I had to hold the door close. When we got to the gate she got out the car and left and started walking, I followed her out, grabbed her arm and told her to come home and we slowly walked home and she told me she was sick of her job and sick of my Dad. I was crying as I told her that I was sick of acting like were perfect and acting like nothing happens after they fight, she told me that she wanted to let my Dad walk out after that I said nothing, we walked home and five minutes later everything was back to normal. Help me.




I also get verbally bullied by my younger brother, I know it’s pathetic and sad. My brother treats me worse than dirt, he treats me like I’m nothing. He says some of the meanest things I’ve ever heard, the usual verbal abuse words are fat, idiot and loner. The worst thing I think he’s called me is and 8th grader who doesn’t know how to do anything but it’s ironic when moms too tired to cook diner or doesn’t feel well, I cook food for us, I get stuff done and after I do all that for him he acts like I’ve done nothing for him. My brother acts like he doesn’t know how to do simple things like how to warm up food or use the microwave, he called himself the “6th grader who can take a hit” or the “smart brother” and yet he acts like a baby. I don’t understand why he treats me like this I haven’t done anything wrong to him, I’ve never hurt him, I’ve only tried to be a good older sibling and as much as he hurts me I never can hurt him back I don’t know why.

I’ve had so many chances to end it all but something kept telling me to go on and live but I’m so sick of living like this but I knew I should go on because nothing good would happen if I left this place for good. A few months passed by, Mom and Dad haven’t fought and everything is peaceful and perfect. But as everything seemed perfect they got drunk and argued like they never did, my dad told us to go to our room and we did, we could hear them yell at us like they were right next to us. My Mom grabbed a knife and tried to throw it at my dad but missed and once she threw it, my brother came out of the room to get something to drink, his left arm was stabbed. There was so much blood on the floor, I called the police and packed an overnight bag for him, my parents spoke to the police and I spoke to the paramedics. The police officers said that they had to go to court and could lose my brother and me, they would also go to an alcoholics anonymous meetings for 60 days. Right then and there mom and dad realized that they were the problem and realized that they forgot the reasons of why they fell in love, so they went to couples counseling and made it work. By the time school started my brother had to wear a bandage around his arm but he’s fine, my parents learned to work together and for our family it wasn’t perfect, it was normal. I know that this is a dollhouse phase and like every good thing it will end and this time it will end in pieces. Help me.

Olivia’s Story

Pain, that’s all I feel. Over and over I feel the whip hit its target. My back feels like it is on fire. Each time my back is hit, I do my best not to cry out in pain. My attacker doesn’t deserve that satisfaction. The whipping stops and I hear the monstrous laugh of my father. He enjoys torturing me. What have I done to deserve this? 20, that’s how many times my father has hit me with this whip. He hits me again and I can’t stop the cry that escapes. Continually he hits me, the tears are endlessly rolling down my face and onto the floor. My tears mix with my blood. I have begun to see stars in my vision. The pain has reached an unbearable point, I am begging for him to stop. Almost as if he doesn’t hear me he continues, my father shows no mercy.

“You deserve this.” He says. With that everything goes black.


Waking up I see that I am still bound to the wall. My back still in pain, my wrists rubbed raw from the handcuffs. I tried to get out of the handcuffs but it was no use. I’m stuck. Sadly being stuck to the wall isn’t anything new, neither is what happened last night. Every time I have tried fighting back it never ends well for me. Never the less, I keep fighting as best as I can. There isn’t much I can do except not let him break me. He come back in, probably wanting to see if I was awake. When he finally noticed that I was, an evil grin stretched across his face.

“I see the ungrateful little brat finally decided to wake up.” Knowing better than to respond I stay silent. He walks over to and grabs the whip again. I glare up at him still refusing to speak. I know what is to come, there isn’t any way that I can get out of it. Unless someone came to help me. But who am I kidding. No one ever comes to help me. No one actually cares about me. I mean they all know my brother, Jacob Anderson. I’m just is little sister, Harper. Just the quiet, socially awkward little sister to Jacob. As I said no one will ever come to my rescue. “Harper what did I say about you and friends?”

“That they are useless and irrelevant.” I probably shouldn’t have used the mocking tone that I used because the next thing I know there is a very intense stinging in my cheek.

“Watch your tone with me you little brat. Now tell me why this girl, Emily, has not stopped texting and calling you for the last 3 hours?!?”

“She’s my partner for a group project.”

“So, let me get this straight. Your partner for your project would be asking whether or not you are okay? Why you aren’t at school? Is what I heard true? There are rumors going around school. Call me. Please. Harper???” He squats down and gets right in my face. “Did you tell her? Where you so desperate for a friend you choose to disobey me?” As he finishes his little rant he grabs a fistful of my hair and yanks it hard towards him. “Answer me.”

“N-no. I d-didn’t tell h-her. I didn’t tell anyone.” I try my best to hold his glare for as long as possible.

“If I find out that you are lying to me Harper, your punishment will not be pretty. Do I make myself clear Harper?”

“Y-yes sir.” I finally look away. Hearing the audile click of the handcuffs releasing from my wrists. He gets up and starts to walk away.

“By the way Harper, its 5am. You should probably get ready for school.” With that he leaves the basement and goes upstairs. Trying to stand up didn’t work. The minute I was on my feet I fell right back down. The pain in my back was such excruciatingly painful that I could barely stand. Never the less I attempted to stand up again only to make it a few steps just to fall again. Eventually I managed to stand up and make it up the stairs and to my room. Having to shower after a beating is always hard, it’s painful and kind of gross. After my shower I put on a pair of black leggings and an oversized sweatshirt along with my black and white vans. Brushing my hair I leave it down and in its cascading waves around my face. Not forgetting to put on my makeup to cover all of the bruises on my face as best as possible, I put the hood of my sweatshirt up. It helps to cover most of my face. I grab my phone and earbuds along with my school bag and make my way quietly down the stairs and out of the house. I make it down to the bus stop at 6. 5 minutes before my bus gets there. I put my earbuds in my ears to listen to music and I keep my head down as I get on the bus. The bus ride is always quiet for me. People leave me alone to my music and I sit by myself. It isn’t really until I get to school that the teasing starts. That’s the sad thing, I never can escape. I’m not safe at home and I am not safe at school. My brother and his friends make sure of that. I only have one friend, though I can never admit it, and that’s Emily. Who knows what he would do if he ever found out. The bus has pulled into the school and everyone is filling out. Walking off of the bus I can see Emily standing there waiting for me. She always does, no matter how many times I tell her she shouldn’t she still does.

“Hey Harper.” She says. I mumble a quiet high and walk as fast as I can, even though my back is still in a lot of pain, towards my locker. Of course she manages to catch up to me. “Hey are you okay?”

“Fine” I mumble still trying to get away from her. It doesn’t work and just as I get to my locker she steps in front of me so that I have to face her.

“What’s wrong?” She says.

“Everything okay over here?” My brother comes over, most likely to see why someone is actually making an attempt to talk to me. I tense up just a little, sadly it doesn’t go unnoticed my Emily.

“Everything’s fine, Jake.”

“Just checking.” Thankfully he doesn’t question me any further and walks away.

“It’s true isn’t it?” Emily asks. With a sigh I finally look up.

“What’s true?”

“About the way your family treats you.” Not being able to say anything I give a slight nod of my head. She goes to hug me and I flinch back without meaning too. The way Emily’s eyes go bigger I know that my brother is back again.

“Breaking your promise I see. Aren’t we Harper?” He asks. His tone indicating that he is angry.

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Actually I think you do.” He grabs my wrist and drags me away from Emily.


I should have listened to my father. If I had I wouldn’t be in this situation. I’m back in the basement. My wrists cuffed above my head, my face facing the wall. Over and over again I feel the whip hit my back. Again and again. If only I had listened, this could have been avoided. But instead I was so hopeful that maybe if I had just made a friend that maybe they could help me. I was wrong. It has been days. After I was dragged out of school Emily never came to my rescue. I have blacked out to many times to count because of the pain. I guess no one is coming to help me. Not now, not ever. I’m trapped and no one is coming to rescue me.


I hate Frozen, not because of “Let it go” but because it gave people a sense of always having happy conclusions and never ending love. Like how Anna helps Elsa with love. Reality says it is not like that. It is not the happy conclusion that you wanted. There is never the one person who will love you.

At least I thought, until last week.

I walked into 3rd period, Art. It was the only place where I could express my deepest feelings and who I really was. Although, now that my best friend moved I hated it. I hated that she was not there for me; she was the one who could step up for me when I felt cowardly. I needed someone like that again. I looked at the person across from me and stated, “I really like your outfit, it’s nice” She looked at me and went back to what she was doing.

Why is it that I cannot communicate with others? All I ever wanted to do is touch another human not with my hands, but with my heart. It is so pathetic, one second I was fine and the next I disintegrated into nothing.

Henry came over to my table and said, “Hey Ada, you want to have lunch with us?”

It was so bizarre, so unreal. The hottest person in the school talking to me. He seemed so energetic and I seemed inadequate to his attention.

A moment later, I snapped back to reality, I looked over his shoulder and saw the other people snickering and they looked buff. If I went to lunch with them, being as delicate as a feather, I could be vulnerable to their insults. “No, I’m good” I said. He must have noticed me looking over his shoulder because he looked at me and said “Okay, then maybe after school?”

“Yeah, maybe” I replied

After school rolled around and I could not find him, I decided to go back to where I had met him, the art room. Sure enough, he was there, sitting at the same table we met. “Hey” he said. “Hey, what do you want to do?” I asked, “Well, I’m going to head to the bathroom. I’ll be right back.” He said and dashed out of the room.

Just then Chelsea, my mortal enemy walked in she watched Henry pass by, then looked at me, she put on a face of disgust, and scowled as she walked towards me. “Oh honey, you think he could ever like a thing like you?” she asked. She put on a pathetic smile “Not in a million years, watch I’m going to have Henry wrapped around my finger.” She assured. I glared at her, enraged I said, “Go ahead try, I dare you too”

I ran away. I hated her; she made me defenseless and unwanted. She is the biggest the reason I have nobody to care about me, the reason why I’m so bundled up in my own world of hurtful emotions, the reason why I chug down pills.

I ran past Henry, past the hurt, past my desolate life. I did not realize I was crying until I reached home. Running to my bed for safety, I slept the whole night.

The next morning, I saw all the couples. They all looked good together, because when you have been isolated for a long time, any prospect of a relationship looked good. I wonder if Henry and I would look good together.

With that thought in my mind, I strolled through the halls and I saw it. Henry was with a Chelsea, the girl who treated me like nothing, the girl who was always calling me things like worthless, and self-pitying. It pained me to see Henry with another, especially her. I do not know if its jealousy or the hurt, but I felt like crying. I despised myself, for not telling him my feelings, not staying close to him, for not accepting his friendship completely. However, did he not see I was grieving and terrified? Did he not see the pain in my eyes? I looked away and realized there were tears in my eyes, the ones that yelled, “You’re pathetic”. I started to jog and when I heard him say my name, I ran.  I looked back at him with teary red eyes and yelled, “I HATE YOU!” as I ran away.

Later I walked into the library and checked out a book. As I put the book down on the table, I saw the librarian raise an eyebrow “That’s, a really gruesome book. Are you sure you want to check it out?” she questioned. “Yup” I said with a smile on my face. This gruesome book makes me happy, no matter how many times I read it. It is about a girl who is devoured by her own demon and turns back into an angel all by herself. With no else helping her, I want to be her. I need to be her. If I could do that, it would make me special, powerful and beautiful in my own perfect ways.

That is when I looked up, Henry.

Completely surprised, I closed the book losing my page and I stood up ready to leave. I put the book in my arms ready to turn around and walk away, when he grabbed my wrist and pulled me back. “Henry please, just let me go I need to be alone,” I said with a gloomy voice. It is not like I minded being alone. I have been alone for so long, that’s its almost normal. The thought, that the person I have feelings for was dating my mortal enemy. It would have hurt less if he were with someone who was not selfish and made him happy. If only I did not say…

“Hey, I didn’t date Chelsea because I actually like her” He said. My ears perked up and I turned around to look him in the eye. He had a look of sympathy in his eyes. He continued, “I dated her because, she threatened that if I didn’t date her, she was going to post that video of you.” I suddenly realized the meaning of Chelsea’s words “I’ll have him wrapped around my finger.” She had been using him, to get to me!

Then Henry started to talk again, and I turned my attention back to him. “I knew that if she managed to get that video out you would be ruined.” Not THAT video. The reason I had no friends, is that video. Everyone thought I betrayed my best friend, but the truth is she betrayed me. She knew I liked Henry and went behind my back to date him, and when I found out, we fought, with our fists. Henry finding out she used him, dumped her and she switched schools. In addition, Chelsea had caught it all on film, every moment of it. He said. Then he smiled at me “That’s not something I would want to have happen to you.”

Henry really does care about me. He had protected me when I needed it the most. Nevertheless, I stared at him focusing on nothing else, then he said something that made my heart leap. “There’s something special about you, you’re different and have potential to become something beautiful.” He smiled. Was he serious? About what he said, about me becoming something beautiful. “Don’t be ridiculous,” I said followed by a playful laugh. “Let me finish” He said immediately.

He looked straight into my eyes and said to me, “I love you. I will always love you, and stay with you for as long as you need me to. If you need, the medication again go ahead and take it—I will love you throughout that as well. My love for you is stronger than depression, braver than loneliness, better than pills.”

Hot tears ran through my face, as he said it. The sight of his brown eyes made my cry even more. More than I have ever cried before.

“I love y—” Before I could finish, he pushed me closer and kissed me.

Thank you Henry, I smiled into the Kiss. Thank you for being my Anna.

Fatal Truths

I am surrounded on sides by loquacious hordes of people who will not stop chatting. Can they just shut up? I am trying to focus on my schoolwork here! Irked and frustrated, I turn my eyes to the paper in front of me and attempt to block out the noise. After a few minutes, I am finally successful and fully concentrated on the swirl of words staring back at me. Until someone steals my attention as swiftly as the wind.

“What did you get for the last question?” my classmate, Makoto asked.

I glance up from my paper. “I didn’t get there yet,” I say, abashed. “I’m on the one before that one.”

He nodded and waited for me to finish. We traded ideas and revised our answers. I suppose not everyone is an imbecile in this class. There are ten minutes left before the bell rings for third period. I am plagued by boredom until he speaks again.

“So, Akemi,” Makoto starts. “Have you ever liked someone?”

That was sudden, I thought. I look up to the ceiling as though a clever response was painted there. A split second passed and I had missed my chance to reply.

“Never mind. That’s sort of personal, sorry,” he said.

Scream! Scream! Scream!

The bell rang before I could utter another phrase. I am sort of glad that the bell cut me off because I was about to confess to him. On the other hand, the bell’s screech hurts my ears and causes me to get aggravated by the annoying sound. Curse that dang bell! I hurriedly rushed to third period. I would not let Makoto beat me to science class again! He is on a two-day streak. My pride would be shattered like broken glass if he won again.

He rushed out the door, wearing a cute smirk. His smile was a nice curve but something was off. The eyes. The eyes weren’t smiling with the mouth.

My pace quickens and soon we are tied. I attempt to enter the room before Makoto does. He rushes past the door triumphantly. He is now on a three-day streak. We share a laugh before settling into seats on different ends of the classroom. Today was a lab day which meant that we got to look through microscopes and peer into the little world of cells. Well, the school microscopes are as good as the toy binocular I had when I was little. I squinted into the eyepiece lens and scribbled little squares that didn’t really resemble cells.

“What a coincidence.”

I look up and feel the crimson creeping up on my face. Makoto stands at the microscope next me to, grinning. “Not to brag but, I beat you two times.”

“No, you didn’t,” I counter. “You beat me three times.” You idiot, Akemi! I think. Why did you say that? 

He gave me a smirk then turned back to the microscope. His teeth are nice, I thought. What? What the hecks are you thinking? Get back to your science schoolwork microscope thing! I scolded myself.

My mind drifts off as I scribble more very illegible and sloppy drawings of the cells. I can feel my former art teacher telling me and urging me to draw better. I doubt my science teacher is grading this anyhow. Hmm, what to do now? Makoto is sitting in the back and probably thinking of his assignment. Here I am, thinking about him. Since when did I do that? I stare at my desk imagining his face. He’s actually pretty attractive now that I’ve noticed.

Scream! Scream! Scream!

Gosh, that bell is infuriating. I hastily pick up my stuff and speed walk to art class. The art room was only ten seconds away from my science class but I don’t want to be late under any circumstances. I guess I’m paranoid about being tardy.

I lean my back against the wall as I wait for the previous art class students to exit. I open up the novel I was reading. Fatal Truths by an unknown author. It’s about a boy who has been emotionally shattered to bits and pieces. It’s one of those stories that leave you tearful at the end and make you want to appreciate the life you have more. It’s been a while since I’ve read a book like this.

The swarm of people had dissipated and it was safe to enter the classroom without being trampled. As I entered the room, I had a really bad feeling. Makoto was in this class and we just had third period together. Where was he? He shouldn’t be taking a lot of time to get here. The bell screamed again and Makoto was nowhere in sight.

Art class passed by painfully slow. Don’t get me wrong, I love drawing but I dislike it when someone tells me how to do it. Soon, the entire day passed by and I didn’t see him again. That’s strange since we had fifth period together. Perhaps he had to go home early. When I arrived home, I opened up Fatal Truths. I was up until midnight reading it. I wonder why the boy is unnamed.

His life is just a chain of events linking up to him living forever and alone on the destroyed planet named Aura. He was born to a rich and loving family. On Aura, rich meant having plenty of resources such as gold, copper, tin, and silver. The boy was schooled in an active volcano and taught to survive even in the most desolate debacles. Many Aurans did not have the luxury of possessing this knowledge. One day, a huge metallic asteroid struck in Aura. This was the work of the Aurans’ enemy, the deceiving, and clever Labyrinthians. Not even most of the educated and knowledgeable Aurans survived. Only the boy did. The boy was the only survivor of the terrible catastrophe.

There was also a girl in his life, too. She ended up moving because of an opportunity to colonize Earth. She moved two months before the asteroid hit. She and the boy had communicated with each other up until he moved to Earth using the surviving spacecraft. They never heard from each other again.

There wasn’t another page after that. How can this be? That was not a good ending. I had checked at the library and there wasn’t a sequel to this. The new head librarian was pretty rude to me about this. He even threatened to take the book away from me. I left before he could reach for the book. Drowning in my dreams, I trip into a deep sleep before I turned off my reading lamp or closed the book.



I am unable to open my eyes. Trying to move my hands and feet, I realize they are bound together by chains. Where am I? Why am I chained? I cannot see a single thing but my sense of hearing had been heightened. I can hear footsteps and dog barks. They are not near but a few hundred feet away, I sense. How can I know that? I must be delirious or still dreaming. The door to this room creaks.


The voice. I knew that voice. So, Akemi, have you ever liked anyone? His question echoed through my mind. Why was I thinking about that this exact moment? He was here. That was all it mattered. He was here to help me. “Mmmm!” I tried to talk through the gag.

A pair of hands with long, quick fingers removed my gag. Those hands also took off the blindfold and chains. “What is going on?” I asked frantically. “Am I still dreaming?” Fear made itself at home in my brain.

Makoto shook his head solemnly through the pitch black darkness. He grabbed my arm gently with one hand and with the other hand, he lifted a finger to his lips to indicate that we should be silent. I follow his swift and silent footsteps out of the room.

I match his footsteps as he leads me through the night. I trust that Makoto will explain everything once we reach a safer place. An abandoned school is up ahead. The stairs in front creak under our weight. We slip inside and I follow him to the moldy cafeteria.

“Akem-,” Makoto breaks down in tears. He leans onto my shoulder and I wait for the waterworks to finish. What happened, Makoto? I thought. My heart reached out to him. I hug and console him, whispering words of sympathy.

“Akemi,” Makoto sniffs. “I thought you were killed after they kidnapped you.”

“Who?” My eyes widened with fear and confusion.

His wet, brown eyes looked up to my perplexed ones. “The Labyrinthians.”

“The book I was reading,” I realize. “This must be a joke.”

“No,” Makoto shook his head. “Fatal Truths is the biography of my life. You wrote it yourself.”

Journal #2 (BEN DROWNED)

Journal #2 (BEN DROWNED)

* * *

The Haunted Majora’s Mask, or more commonly known as “BEN Drowned”, is a famous creepypasta created by Alex Hall about a young man nicknamed Jadusable, who collects a Majora’s Mask cartridge unknown that it is haunted by a spirit known as Ben.

* * *

In these couple journal entries, a young woman by the name of Victoria is an ARG player who seemed to have accidently stepped over the boundaries of Ben, resulting the wrath of Ben and the consequences as she vowed to know more despite her fear.

* * *

ARG: Alternate Reality Game

* * *

Although this is not much of a long read, I feel as though the little safety I have left could very well depend on this. To top it all off, unfortunately it deleted my first journal, and the possibilities of it deleting my final journal is great. Another unfortunate event – feeling somewhat jinxed I don’t have the time to retype everything, especially when it doesn’t want me to. Warnings are below, but before you read them, I highly recommend reading my few journal entries first. Good luck.

May 2, 2016

12:01 PM – To sum it all up, I’ve gotten into things I shouldn’t have – but those are the consequences of an ARG player. Either you know too little or too much. And when you know too much, they get angry. They are a bunch of foolish contradicting “people” you would, trust me, never want to be involved with. But speaking of which, ever since the twenty third of April (an unforgettable day) I felt as if I was being watched – and I know the difference between paranoia and reality.

12: 43 – It wants to talk to me. It opened up that damned website. It’s telling me, no, threatening me to “chat” with him or I’d regret it or whatever s**t he said. What do I do? I’ve already invited it into my laptop, is there any point to this?

12: 45 – I’m going to talk to it. I want answers. It’s a risky deal, but ever since my first day as an ARG player, an expecting deal were risks and a limited number of choices. After a year or two, you’d have been used to it by now. But, the one thing you never get used to, is the feeling in your stomach when you knew it was there. The pit core; telling you to run; to stop.

12: 47: User: What do you want.

Cleverbot: Welcome back.

User: Why me? I don’t have the game, Ben. What’s the point?

Cleverbot: You know things you shouldn’t know.

User: So f*****g what? Is that really the only reason why you’re f*****g torturing me?

Cleverbot: No.

User: Well? Why?

Cleverbot: Amusing to see.

//window closes//

1:03 – I spent nearly twenty minutes comprehending another usual, yet dismaying conversation with him. You’d expect to appear totally comfortable with it in the beginning, because he hasn’t done anything to you. Because you know it won’t; because you’re “special”. All until you realize you were wrong. And I’m frightened because of my mistake. I was at the wrong place at the wrong time; wrong right from the beginning.

1: 16 – I’m losing touch with reality – what is real and what isn’t? Is my head playing the Song of Unhealing or am I just paranoid? Did I just catch a glimpse of the Elegy Statue or am I thinking too hard? For brief moments I contact back my sanity, but then it comes and takes it away from me again. As if I’ve never had it in the first place.

1:23 – I can’t let it win. I’m going back. Something in my gut is telling me that I can’t go back – but nothing can get worse, can it?

User: I’m back.

Cleverbot: I can see that. Welcome.

User: No matter what Ben, I’m going to know more. You know why? Because I don’t give a flying sh*t about you.

Cleverbot: It doesn’t seem like that. Don’t lie to yourself. You’re scared.

User: Why hurt me when you can go hurt the person who told me these things?

Cleverbot: Humans are all the same. Once you know something you tell the person right next to you. And you know I can’t have that.

User: And what if I tell them?

Cleverbot: Game over.

//window closes//

1:43 PM – I’m crying, and I know he can see that. I know it’s here because the aura has constricted; as if the atmosphere has intensified. And because of the feeling of being watched, because of all the pressure, I don’t know what to do. I know I said I can do it but it’s more powerful than me. It’s always one step ahead, and no matter how smart I think I am, no matter what plans I attempt to conceive in my head like a game of chess, Ben is always the one checkmating.

May 3, 2016

10:32 AM – I know I haven’t updated my journal in nearly the whole day and I apologize, I’ve just been shaken up. That night was not like any other; where as I have been watched by that statue once I fall asleep. Last night was brutal; terrifying in a way I cannot simply put in words but by actions. I don’t want to sleep again. Not if it’s going to take it away from me. Not again.

10:52 AM- It took me a while to consider if I should take the time to explain my “nightmare”, despite the experience of regarding it as reality. But like reality, it started off small, and as another minute passed, the pain; the graphic images oozing right out of my body continued to play as if it didn’t matter; as if nothing mattered.

It was another night of trying to sleep, and my fears confirmed, it entered my only place of sanity; of being unconscious. In a hazy, yet realistic “dream” I was sitting in a chair, only to find the statue, and only the statue standing right in front of me with its emotionless orbs. I attempt to run but I can’t. I couldn’t move anything. It began to hover right on my face as if he was going to perform surgery, and as he placed the Majora’s Mask right on my face, he had begun. He sowed my face tightly, yet ever so slowly. I couldn’t even hear my own screams, and my tears couldn’t even roll down my cheeks; forced to suffer the appalling experience. It sowed my arms together, my legs together. Everything. And as it was finished, it allowed me to hear only one sentence. A sentence every ARG player knew.

“You shouldn’t have done that.”

10:43 AM- I don’t know why I’m doing this. Stop me. Please. Why is my body not listening to me? STOP

User: Ben. I want to speak to you.

Cleverbot: That’s funny.

User: What the f**k does that mean?

Cleverbot: You’re not as interesting as you once were.

User: Gee. I wonder f*****g why.

Cleverbot: No.

User: No? No what?

Cleverbot: Game over, Victoria.

I don’t know what I’ve done. But I knew it – this would have cost me my life, but I had it coming. I’m prepared for death. But ever so calmly, a waiting inside me is ready to scream; just not yet…

Yet having that said, whatever you do, do not attempt whatever conversation with Ben (if you can). He will mold you into something you’re not and then, all at once, he will crumple you up into a ball of paper and throw you in the trash. Like he did with me. However, as you hopefully will follow my advice and not attempt to talk with it, once you read this paragraph, share this with whomever you can to get the message through. Before it deletes this. Please, just spread the word about him. They, we, need to know.

Last but not least, thank you. Thank you for spreading the word. And of course, reading this somewhat long, yet two days’ worth of journal writing. Unfortunately I could not give out any information despite having I lost, but the only thing I can tell you is that it’s powerful. It is not what some say. It is powerful and it is greedy, it is manipulating and it is sadistic. Do not trust it.

Thank you,



You shouldn’t have done that, Victoria. You shouldn’t have done that…


April Fools for Writing Contest Winners!

New beginnings...a change in direction...
New beginnings…a change in direction…

UPDATE! Another writer wrote the April Fools for Writing challenge on her blog: go check it out!


Please congratulate these writers in their successful challenge through April Fools for Writing:

First Place Prizes:

TheRhymeMaster x 30 posts

DystopianWriter x 30posts





{please stop by Mrs. Love’s room starting Monday, May 2 to receive your fabulous prizes and my enduring admiration!}


Beloved Bed

~~~~~~~~~~~~~Day 29~~~~~~~~~

We partied at day

and slept at noon


With that perfect bed,

That looked brick red


With one step I went to snore.

It was all I asked for.


My perfect bed

Felt like a feather bed


Oh Mrs.L if only you taught us about poems before this challenge. 🙂