It was the standard method of execution in the Forest of Giants.
Machelo was chained to a large yellow box on the top of a hill. Balanced atop his head was a metal bell; should he dislodge it, it would ring.
He'd been stabbed in the chest with two metal spikes; that in itself would be a mortal wound for any normal doll, but Machelo was much more than normal. His natural resilience would be enough to recover from his wounds, but not even he could withstand what would happen if the bell were to ring; if he were to...
She bent down to tie her shoe as the sun was setting. The reflection of the pinkish-yellow ball was right in front of her at the edge of the lake. The pebbles beneath her feet were wet and smooth. The umbrella she brought with her, still resting on her beach towel by the tree.
With many thoughts in her head, Chelsea folded up her umbrella and tucked it beneath her arm, rolling up her damp towel and stuffing her towel into her drawstring bag.
Today was a good day, she thought. She could get through this day. Days at the...
Tigger stretched and yawned, as was typical--4 or five times a day, in between naps. But now, now it was spring. His tired old arthritic bones had changed his pace, but his prowess remained. As a long haired Cat, he was among the most regal. He resembled a Bobcat, but with long hair--a mane like no other domestic cat. I opened the sliding glass door for him, certain that he'd be out for the night, when the neighborhood Fox appeared. I tried to sway him back inside, but he was gone. In a moment, Captain, the Family dog came round...
'Just a little more." She said wearily, but the fierce look of determination on her face kept Malcom from insisting further. Her hands gripped the support rail so tightly that her knuckles drained of all colour.
'Alright, alright, if you really think you can do it.' He said softly, taking a step away from the wheelchair at the ready to wheel her away back to her room. He had to admit it, he admired her persistence, even if it was against his better judgment.
Her first step on her healing leg was shaky and the beads of sweat on her...
She'd have preferred the electric chair as a pendant to the cross which she now wore around her neck. Who was it who said if Jesus was killed nowadays little Catholic girls would all be wearing electric chairs instead of crosses? But she had to wear it; Grandma was coming to Sunday dinner and the family was big on making a half-assed show of religious values. Not like anyone even went to church anymore unless Grandma was around. Nellie flipped her hair in the mirror and made a face, then went downstairs to where the rest of the family was...
When I reached end of the running trail in the woods, I ran into a gigantic zombie. Nearly wet my pants. Damn thing had to be seven feet tall.
I remembered that zombies bit skulls open and ate hot steaming brains. Made me wish I was wearing a football helmet. I started to run like hell in the other direcition.
"Wait," he hollered. "I'm thirsty. Got any ginger ale?"
"No. I only got a can of Pepsi."
"Good enough," he said. "Let me have it and I won't catch you and eat your brains."
I reached into my backpack and...
The bass pounded next door. pounded this door. pounded so loudly that louis put his head on his desk and pounded with it. he got up from his studying to give his next door neighbor a pound for a pound. and that's when his bed started shaking. Earthquake, he thought. and dived under his desk for safety. wait a minute, he thought, am i supposed to hide underneath the desk or a doorway. and then he noticed his desk wasn't shaking. just his bed. that is against the wall that he shares with his neighbor. then he heard the moaning...
The water crashes onto our feet. His hand lets go of mine as he turns away from me. He tells me he can't let me do this. I just shake his thoughts away. If you loved me you'd stay with me. I look at him and smile. He was really remarkable. I sweep away the hair that had fallen into his eyes. Our lips embrace for the last time. He tries to hold on to me but I push him away. I walk into the water as the waves takes me under.It's colder then I imagine. I can hear his...
The mannequin looked so real, but was not. Apparently. At least that's what Mr Saunders always said, and he had to be right. He was a teacher, wasn't he? He was my teacher and, at nine years old, I believed every word he said.
And yet, every morning as I passed it on my walk to school, the mannequin - whom I had named Joyce - in the window of J. T. Kingsley's department store seemed to watch me as I went. Seemed to call to me, to invite me in. That was, after all, her job. But she did...
She hated when people asked where she came from. She didn't like dwelling on the past, or for that matter, thinking of it at all.
The past made her feel weak, vulnerable. She loathed feeling that way.
She wasn't weak, like her mother. Her mother stayed with him to rot.
But not Laura, she got out as soon as she could. As far away as she could from him, the man that had the nerve to call himself her father.
He was evil, he was a monster that haunted her dreams, she hated him. Him and his "holier then though"...