... up the stairs. Up stairs it was even darker. I saw a long narrow hallway with a lot of doors on both sides and on the end. I checked all of the doors and I could only get into one of them. I walked into the one that I could get into and heard someone yelling and pleading. I grew scared but then noticed it wasn't a person. It looked like a hologram, but you could see and hear him. He seemed to be pleading for his life. I could not see whom he was talking to, but I don't think it was a person. The man was balding and looked like he was in his upper forties. He was saying, "I am sorry for coming into your house. I thought it was empty. Please! Please! Let me ...

... chaos in a matter of moments. I topped a rise in the two-lane country road and entered the strange world of helpless fear. At the bottom of the hill a black Ford Fairlane was turning left into my unstoppable path. “Oh shit!” I exclaimed loudly. My five-hundred-pound metal stallion lunged relentlessly toward disaster, even though my right boot stomped hard on the rear brake. The bike fishtailed back and forth as I sought a path around the car – I first veered toward the ditch and then to the opposing lane, but a station wagon was already filling the gap and heading my way and the barb-wire fence and deep ditch barred that route. I laid my gallant monster on its lef ...

... but I'm being honest. A part of my personality goes into my work and I feel if people read enough of my work, they will discover certain personal feelings I would prefer to keep private. -- Honesty Check...I also think my work sucks. -- As to where I get my ideas from for my sick excursions, I sincerely do not know. Like Stephen King (who got the idea to write IT when looking off of a bridge) I seem to receive my mad phantasms out of thin air. For example, when I first began writing the first draft of this essay, I started out writing about writing horror stories and ended up writing a short story about a vampire in London. It is safe to say ...

... the stairs to the computer chair. Upon start-up of the computer, a warm and pleasant feeling would vibrate through my entire body, straight down my spine. It almost felt as if I was in some sort of heaven. Every keystroke of the keyboard sent a refreshing burst of pleasure in each of my finger tips. The glowing monitor emitted delightful rays that pleased and calmed my eyes. Oh yes, it was great to be home. Of course, this does not even compare to the long and never-ending hours I would spend on this machine. Although my bedtime was supposed to be around 10 or 11 in the evening, I would manage to stay up on this computer until sometimes as late as 3 in the ...

... Processing Unit) is called upon to processing information. The final of the three icons takes the shape of a sun. The sun is illuminated whenever the computer is on. Near the very top of the box there is a rectangular slot which measures 1” by 5 ¼” where the CR-ROM drive resides. On the front of the CR-ROM drive there is a single oval button, which activates the slider mechanism and opens the door. Below the CD-ROM drive is a 3”x 5” disk drive. There is also only one button on the front of the disk drive, which is used to eject a disk. I am now going to move from the front of the box to the back of the box. As I look for a way to remove the casing, I not ...

... determined to reach it, no matter what sacrifices I must make. I step forward again testing the sand, still white hot. I pull my courage from the corners of my being and make a run for it. This isn't so bad if I run really fast. The wind blows in my face, bringing with it that smell, almost a taste of the ocean. It seems to be a combination of fish, salt, people, and water all mixed into one. I continue to run until I reach the water's edge where the waves crash upon the beach, making the white sand brown and hard. I sit down on the sand, panting after my enormous effort. Something troubling pulls at the edge of my mind, but I ignore it. A wave rolls up ...

... there watching from the protection of the trees as those lethal bullets found their way into his parents. Then, maybe then, things would have been different. Jimmy couldn't really blame himself. After all, what could a fifteen year old boy be expected to do under those circumstances? His parents had dreamed of a better life. A life that would bring prosperity and success for the family, specifically for him. They had heard there was rich, fertile land out west. Sadly enough, his parents' last breaths were drawn only a few hundred miles from their dream. They had been murdered for nothing more than the few dollars and a couple of small pieces of jewe ...

... stress is a natural part of life. Living in an ideal world with no stress or problems is boring. Anger and stress add spice and excitement to life. People always deal with stress everyday. I am no exception and either is the future. Coworkers cheery and happy enters my thoughts when dreaming of the future. Miscommunications and misunderstandings are unheard of. Every individual is nice to each other and no one is ever upset. Work atmosphere is quiet and peaceful. People respecting each one's own opinion. Every day people are on time and punctual. Work is done on time with no excuses for late work. The future is full of coworkers' being angry and di ...

... to think about what Jake had just said. Maybe he was right. I mean, we do have alot of power over the house right now anyway. We could just take over and force them to let us do anything. They believe Satanist have alot of power. If they really don’t, we could just not tell them and pretend we do. They would never know the difference anyway. When we got to the truck, I ask mom if Jake and I could ride in the back. “Its too cold to ride back there!You’ll freeze to death! And what if we wreck? There aren’t any seat belts back there!” she yelled back. I was hoping she wouldn’t yell like this. Then dad butted in. “What are you two talking about? Why do I a ...

... was untied. He stretched down to retie it and saw a small card beside his foot. Funny, he hadn't noticed it there before. Maybe it blew up in the breeze. Yes that's what happened, the wind had blown it there when he was off in dreamland. Oh well, he thought and then he picked it up. The card had printing on it. It simply read, "go look in your mail box". Keith gave out a small chuckle and thought about his mailbox. Was someone joking around with him? It was probably that pesky neighbor boy, James. He was always coming up with something new and unusual to try out on his neighbors. "What the hell", Keith said aloud. He then stood up and walked over to hi ...