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Script of Eliyah

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Scripts are short stories written in Phantom Jungle’s Scripture. So the Script of Eliyah is telling about a thing in his life.

There are sins… In this world. In truth, we could drift away, but Jayati, god’s niece, stomps on the ground and that keeps us grounded. She is gravity and Enzo makes the flame we see. The Scripts say Enzo is the father of flame and Jayati was the mother of the fall (Get it?).

Phantom Jungle got it’s name because we witness God and we can’t lie, we literally see him all the time. I saw him sipping coffee, I can’t tell a lie because it’s such a normal thing to picture him walking. It’s normal to have a ghost in your house, it’s normal to be addicted to drugs, no one expects you not to be and you don’t get a pat on the back because you didn’t do drugs today.
You know why it’s normal because God was hungry once, he was curious and a dope dealer. It’s ironic cause… Some people question if we’re real or not and he was an actual solid being.
I’m not sure if I’m alive… Maybe I’m dead. I look at myself in mirrors, gaze at my brown skin, I know I’m tall and sometimes girls say I have really nice eyebrows.
Ghost are annoying because they come out and don’t leave till morning usually, grandma came and visit; she bugged the hell out of me (do we even have a hell?). You would never get away with murder cause the wife who you beat in the hand would snitch! But I know how you can bury someone and they don’t come back. You smash the grave, simple. Fur Jungle is known as the real jungle and they’re a little sneaky. You see, they’re animals, rabbits, tigers and bears on two legs. I think my favorite is bunnies. Sometimes they wear a special jacket known as a Style; it makes them human up until it’s ripped or just plain taken off.
“Funway!”
“Yes!”
“Boy, you need to do some errands for Laugh Loud! We should name you Dropbox”
A Sig is short for signature, a mark. To others, it’s a nickname, but take it how you want. I wipe my eyes with my sleeve with led to the foam around my mouth to be in my eye. “Ahhh!”
“Boy, go wash up. You overdosing?”, he sneered.
“Naw… I naturally have seizures”
“Don’t nobody naturally have seizures”
“I’m weird”
Boss frowned and rushed me out the door. “GO BOY. You’ve got high off the heaven drop all day, do something productive”

So I did, I did something productive. I’m a fiend, a fiend of every drug. I wish I could try Klutz, friends tell me it’s an amazing feeling. You get sweaty, like you just had sex and feet tremble. Your sex drive is great, you feel floaty. I’d love to try it, cause honestly I feel hungry. As a fiend, I do have a an extra mouth. It’s on my neck, the mouth is like your conscience telling you get more, get more get more get more. I always want more…

I headed over to Laugh Loud’s place, it’s expand since the gang war with Pumpkin, I’m sorry I mean Terrell. He has this God mansion that’s just amazing. I’d love a house like that, I’d love a house period. Fucking 21 and homeless, I should have went to school.
I knocked on Laugh Loud’s door and immediately it swung open. “Funway!”, he greeted. “Great, take this package to Dorian, leave it on his step and if he’s still breathing”, he pulled out a gun and gave it to me. “Take care of it”
“Why?”, I questioned.
“I want no lineage of Pumpkin he might do shit like his father”
“Basically you don’t want another war?”
He smirked and pushed me along my way. Now I feel bad, what if I don’t do it? Do it do it Do it did do it, Do it for the reward. KlutzKlutzKlutz. I’m so hungry right now, maybe he’ll give me a reward, he usually does. I take the package down Fool’s Street, he lives in a very small home painted white with the windows full of holes. Wow, they are determined. I looked at the box then put it to my ear, yep they’re determined. I kicked the door repeatedly and he came, he yelled at me, “What the hell–”

I saw the fear into his eyes all bulging out. He stared at me and I swore my heart was beating so fast I was confused whether or not it was the drugs or the excitement. I dropped the package and put my hand behind my back. Immediately he turned tail in the house, slamming the door, I kicked opened the door and gripped the pistol in my hand. I followed, He ran to the back door looking back at me once just as I raised the gun. He halted for a moment and I wondered for what, as he stared at me, did he accept defeat, why? “I’m done, I don’t wanna die but I don’t wanna keep messing with Curtis. Look, let me go. I can hide. I’ll go away, let me go”
You won’t get the reward. “But I won’t get the reward…”, I cocked the gun. “I… I need more” I gritted my teeth. “There’s no better reward. I need. Just die…”
When I pulled the trigger and he flew back, the second guessing in my head was to late. I did a bad… But… I need more in me. I need that feeling, I can’t function without  it.

“You did it!”, Laugh Loud was proud of me. I like being praised. I looked at him, all shirtless showing the cuts over his body, I couldn’t tell if those were done by a knife or multiple fiend marks. “You get a treat, some fine Klutz”
I was happy, I got what I wanted and overdose on it all night. The sexual feeling all over felt like holding your breath and getting the dizzy feeling. It was great, just those nights when I had myself, but all I saw was Dorian in the mirror.

Hustle. Power. Repeat

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(This is a fictional story and a fantasy since to also includes superpowers)
Two homeless drug addicts steal form their dealer who refuses t give them what they want. Addicted to the new drug Klutz, they sneak in the man’s house steal more however Donavan grabs the wrong thing and they start getting sick. The drug? Tempestuous.

They were waiting, the line was long and boring. Shay must have been the only drug dealer who had a line. They had been waiting since eight o’clock am, Donavan looked at his girlfriend. She had dry lips and hair was tangled; she tried some days to look better than she did, she wished for new clothes. She mostly wore a white shirt with a junkyard puffy jacket for the days when it was too cold to even breathe.
Donavan had holes in his pants, tears in the tank top with stains. The jeans were ripped and  lips dry as well, he was tired and back hurt like hell from sleeping funny on the train.

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Writing Question

Does anyone have tips for outlining a story?

Contraband

Possibly bad. This is a draft and I’m planning to fix it. But this is what I got now.

My life has always been an unfortunate one and I’m not saying that in a ‘woe is me’ sort of tone. I’ve been through things that weren’t fun and maybe one time I got abducted by aliens but that isn’t… Important.

“This is our new student—”

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Black Bottle Tale

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She was never really a bother to anyone but she always appeared to be in the way of bad things. The time she stood on the pavement and was splashed with muddy water or the time she walked under a building and paint fell on her. Her name was Fay, Fayetta, and Fayetta had a messy room. Clothes scattered across the room, her dress, her toys. Mr. Rousseau was her doll’s name, her rosy cheek red hair doll and dark buttons for eyes. Originally the doll didn’t have buttons for eyes but she couldn’t recall what color they were.

Mr. Rousseau often helped her in her daily mysteries of life. She was Sherlock and he was Watson. And today’s mystery was a rugged one.

“Oh where, oh where, could my left shoe be”, she tapped her chin as she asked herself. She picked up her trusted companion and mimicked his words because dolls don’t talk. “W-what if it was the thief! The thief from Heathrow Lane? All shrouded in black and blue. Perhaps he took the shoe”
“Oh! I say my dear Watson, you are a genius, lets ask Tellalot Bear. That bear can’t tell a lie”
“Indeed… but Lialot Goat is always there”
“And so we’ll have to find the truth dear Watson!!”

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MOJO 2

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Monica looked at the clock repeatedly as grabbed her purse, took the gun from table in the living room and tucked away at her hip under her black dress. “Alright! I’m gone!”, she shouted. Her daughter Mackenzie Young, came downstairs before her mother before her mother walked out the door. Mackenzie was five foot seven,brown, curly hair, amber eyes like her mother and father due to the effect of the jewel. “Ma!”, she called her stopping her mother in her tracks. “What is it now?” “It’s about–“, she started to say but her mother cut her off. “I’m not having this discussion again it’s already set and we’re going next week so look nice for him”

Mackenzie frowned, she was the only daughter in the Young family but not the only child, she hated what she went through with her family and they seemed to put pressure on her and not her brother, Moses Young. It wasn’t fair and she couldn’t stand it. Bitch, she thought and chased after her mom towards the car

“I don’t get why you didn’t pick Moses!”, she yelled. “I don’t get why your so upset about it. He’s nice and handsome…”

“Arranged marriages is what white people do!”, she protested. “I don’t wanna hook up with some white boy!” Her mother grimaced. “I never realized I raised such a closed minded daughter…”

“You just want the money!”, she said. “I never said you had to love him!” “I don’t want to have this talk again, you can’t make me go!”, she glared. Her mother started up the Chrysler Crossfire, looking at the wheel as she said to herself she is so stubborn, either way I don’t care what she wants, She looked at her daughter’s stone shocked face. “I…”, Mackenzie looked away for a moment, She’s going to make me late bringing up some bull, she can through a damn tantrum for all I care.

Mackenzie bit her lip, as her started started backing out the drive way, what hurt the most is that her mother knew she could her thoughts loud and clear. She often wondering was she like that all the time before they got the jewels. She took hold on her necklace in which the jewel hung from. An orange tone with an eye in the middle, sometimes she thought it blinked sometimes.

The cookout was going fine until that man came through. They decided to split the jewels, she would rather return hers, it wasn’t serving her any good.

She stood there in the drive way for a moment, gasping her jewel and thinking about things she wanted to act on but was afraid of the consequences that would or could happened.

Her brother saw her from the window, he was wondering why she was gasping her necklace so tightly. He picked up his phone having had received a text from Dominic Riley, he read the text and replied quickly then put the phone away. Moses wasn’t bothered by certain things unless it affected him in ways like his life was threatened, which would almost explained as why he had the immune response. His sister couldn’t read his mind, the families powers didn’t affect him and he seemed to be content with the way things were. He received a text again and checked his phone.

“Do you have a gun?”, the text read. Dominic always was a proper one, he never made shortcuts. Never ‘U’, he always used ‘YOU’, he replied. “What kind of gun you need?” Dominic replied intently. “The kind that murders my brother”

He chuckled at the text. “What did he do now?”, he sent. “Bitch is so damn rude, he ate all the cookies :(”

Just as he replied his father walked in the room. A cut across his cheek and rather uneven crew cut. “Moses!”

“Yeah?”

“Where your mother?”, he said in his well visable accent. “Did she go to work?”, he said. Micah leaned in the door. “You seen my gun?” “No sir”, in reality, Moses never say no sir or yes sir in his life but things happened when Micah got angry and Monica couldn’t always hold him down. Moses had no real life for his father nor did his sister because they both knew the dark secrets that their father was a bigamous. The siblings chose not to say a word to their mother because they were scared…. they wouldn’t want up the next day. “Damn it… she’s always taking my shit as she pleases…”, his amber eyes gave off a shade of red. “You sure you ain’t seen her?”

“No sir…”, he shook his head rapidly. “Where’s your sister?”, he asked, his skin turning from brown to reddish tone. “Outside”, he answered.

Micah shut the door hard enough to shake the glass window. Moses picked up the phone and texted Dominic. “I think my dad is insane”, he texted and received an instant reply. “Can we trade? Mine won’t come home…”

Mackenzie was sitting on the steps when her dad grabbed her by the arm from behind. “Where’s your mother!?”

“I… I don’t know…”, she stammered. She stared at his red eyes full of anger, he was holding her tight and she couldn’t fell the circulation in her arm. “Daddy you’re hurting me…”, she told him. “Let me go…”

He did as he was asks and pushed her roughly back in the house. Moses rushed down stairs after seeing his sister being handled roughly. Micah’s fingers ripped the garage door away and grabbed his bently by the bumper and dragged it out the garage. The siblings could only watch as their father was completely furious, “Moses!”, he commanded. “Get… me…. my keys”

Moses was hesitating, the first thing that came to mind was his mother; he was so scared as to want his father could possibly do to here. He hoped she wasn’t doing nothing really stupid to make him even angrier than he was. “BOY!”, his father yelled at him making him jump in freight. Moses quickly went into the house and snatched the keys off the living room table. He went back out and rushed to hand the keys over.

His hand was shaking and as his father jerked the keys from his hold, his lips quivered as he said, “please…. don’t hurt her”

Micah wasn’t in his right mind to hear the boy and pulled on the door to the car so hard he intentionally removed the whole door but got in the car anyway.

Please don’t hurt her, he had said that a lot in his life because he was afraid. The first time it happened, he had to had been five years old. It was the middle of the night, they didn’t have a big house and where damn near poor. They had an apartment instead, Moses and Mackenzie shared a bed or sometimes he slept on floor beng too tired from school to make it to the bed. He heard arguing outside the room and his sister was wake, he turned over and asked was she sleep, she said with tears in he eyes that he couldn’t see. “Daddy I gonna kill her…”

He jumped out of bed, and went o the kitchen; sometimes that was as far as his mind went, he couldn’t remember what was said. He remembered his mother on the ground lips bleeding, hair a mess and his father striking her. He could have sworn he recalled his mother reaching for him….

Micah has always been an angry individual, the jewels they wore around their necks came who they were. Micah was rage, respecting the anger in the man.

Killing Innocence

You should read “Killing Innocence” on Wattpad. http://w.tt/1gw6C5O

Updated

I’m studying schizophrenia now…

Killing Innocence

You should read “Killing Innocence” on Wattpad. http://w.tt/1gw6C5O
Updated

Killing Innocence

You should read “Killing Innocence” on Wattpad. http://w.tt/1gw6C5O

I had uploaded the first three and tried to do some editing

I was also suppose to only upload the first on wattpad and got carried away