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Literature Text
August 12th
(Continued...)
Death.
I can feel it calling.
I drove by Julie's house and noticed a suspicious car parked across the street. I knew for a fact that the Martin's didn't own a similar car. They owned a '76 Silverado.
So I kept driving and I found a nice hidden place to park and then I walked.
I was desperate. I could not keep the cops from stopping me tonight. She needed to die tonight, Diary. I wasn't prepared to use my backup plan but I had no other choice. I walked through a 10 acre yard in the moonlight carrying a filled gas can. The grass was wet and I was leaving footprints. It didn't matter, she has to die.
I broke in through the back door and crept in. The living room window was wide open. It left a perfect view of the staircase leading up to the bedroom on the second floor. The cop outside should be able to see anyone enter her bedroom.
It didn't matter. I poured gasoline throughout the back of the house and lit a match.
I ran, and I ran, until I passed out.
I don't know how long I was out. It couldn't have been more than a couple of minutes. I tasted the wet grass and felt the mud on my face.
I got up and ran. The house was fully lit. Huge clouds flew over my head. I got to my car and got out of there fast. I was coughing and my head pounded but I got away.
I'm tired. Goodnight Diary.
August 13th
Dear Diary,
I woke up exhausted. My whole body hurts but my face hurts the most. I looked in the mirror and I noticed I have a slight bruise on my cheek. I looked a little banged up.
After a quick soothing bath, I made a trip downstairs for the mail. I got this very disturbing piece of mail. It was from me. It was written on a piece of you, Diary.
I read the newspaper and watched the news. Turns out the fire destroyed the house. The media was tearing a new one into the police. They claimed they could have done more to save young Julie. They don't understand how something like this could happen with police parked outside.
I stole her work name tag on the way out. I decided to toss it out along with all the other pieces I stole, except you, Diary. It's not worth the risk. These little mementos are just going to get me caught and we can't have that.
From a torn page of Todd Casil's Diary
I don't mean to get you caught. I plan on killing you. I plan on killing us.
(Continued...)
Death.
I can feel it calling.
I drove by Julie's house and noticed a suspicious car parked across the street. I knew for a fact that the Martin's didn't own a similar car. They owned a '76 Silverado.
So I kept driving and I found a nice hidden place to park and then I walked.
I was desperate. I could not keep the cops from stopping me tonight. She needed to die tonight, Diary. I wasn't prepared to use my backup plan but I had no other choice. I walked through a 10 acre yard in the moonlight carrying a filled gas can. The grass was wet and I was leaving footprints. It didn't matter, she has to die.
I broke in through the back door and crept in. The living room window was wide open. It left a perfect view of the staircase leading up to the bedroom on the second floor. The cop outside should be able to see anyone enter her bedroom.
It didn't matter. I poured gasoline throughout the back of the house and lit a match.
I ran, and I ran, until I passed out.
I don't know how long I was out. It couldn't have been more than a couple of minutes. I tasted the wet grass and felt the mud on my face.
I got up and ran. The house was fully lit. Huge clouds flew over my head. I got to my car and got out of there fast. I was coughing and my head pounded but I got away.
I'm tired. Goodnight Diary.
August 13th
Dear Diary,
I woke up exhausted. My whole body hurts but my face hurts the most. I looked in the mirror and I noticed I have a slight bruise on my cheek. I looked a little banged up.
After a quick soothing bath, I made a trip downstairs for the mail. I got this very disturbing piece of mail. It was from me. It was written on a piece of you, Diary.
I read the newspaper and watched the news. Turns out the fire destroyed the house. The media was tearing a new one into the police. They claimed they could have done more to save young Julie. They don't understand how something like this could happen with police parked outside.
I stole her work name tag on the way out. I decided to toss it out along with all the other pieces I stole, except you, Diary. It's not worth the risk. These little mementos are just going to get me caught and we can't have that.
From a torn page of Todd Casil's Diary
I don't mean to get you caught. I plan on killing you. I plan on killing us.
Literature
Flutterings
It hurted.
My stomach was hurting for days. Mama said it was probably ulcer or maybe my drinking of so much Coke. But I ate and I ate and never drank Coke, and still my stomach hurted. Even if Mama went to the place where herbal plants grow to get a bunch of leaves so that she could squish them and put them in my drink, my stomach didn't stop hurting.
Papa said it was time to call the doctor, so he put on his funny straw hat and went to call the doctor. And when he came back, there was a funny-looking man that followed him into our little house. He had long kinky hair with white stuff in it and when he smiled he had very few teeth. His skin
Literature
the best 45 minutes of the day
Coffee kisses in your car,
listening to the uhn tiss
bass as my tongue caved
into the cave of your lips.
Let's pretend a heart is
an Adam Lambert song
blasting the speakers in
your Shit-Mobile.
Give me your Fever;
I will be your Advil,
a prescribed lover,
if you'll take me in
the recommended dosage,
take me in your arms,
take me to the moon,
carry me to the sky.
There were no stars in Vegas
until I found you.
Literature
Chemical Attractions, Part I
We can learn a lot from salt.
The chlorine atom is fundamentally lacking, longing to fill that gaping hole in its valence shell, and those bright bits of energy dancing in amorphous clouds around a sodium atom are just too tempting for the poor chlorine to resist. Chlorine probably knows that it has no claim to those electrons. It might lie awake at night for days or weeks in a fit of conscience, seeking alternatives before sending out tentative feelers and inviting Sodium to join it for coffee... It's a romantic comedy in minature, and I think that we can skip over the montage of dates and dinners and late nights on the couch in front of a
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oh...now i'm kinda confused..