From an old diarydespite words being whispered in our earsthrough our lives, lessons taught ororders given it ends with you.The face of destiny will change.You know in your heart all thevariables. You see all the roadsbefore you.Lets walk.
Under the Bleachers ch2Dean gazed around at the bus's interior. He could tell it was old because despite it's fairly graffiti free surfaces the metal was slightly worn from numerous scrubbings. The mustard yellow seats where discoloured from various ink stains and the occasional cigarette/ lighter burn. He sighed deeply as the scenery flew by on their way to school.Usually he and Sam would sit in the middle of the bus. This is because the need to blend in had been impressed upon them from an early age. High school bus seating psychology would tell you that leaders and those who where driven would sit at the front of the bus. Dean always wondered if this is where he would belong, where he a normal kid. Middle was for middle of the road kids who where standard achievers and part of the pack. Of coarse those at the back of the bus, as previously noted by Dean, where generally underachievers, less driven or in many circumstances had something to hide."What?" Dean growled at his little brother without turning h
Letter to MycroftDear Mycroft,I send this letter to you because I am not so far from the edge of life these days that I do not imagine the end. You may find the subject of this correspondence rather irregular but I would like another soul to know of this matter and I cannot imagine a better soul then yours. Of all our family, you are the closest to comprehending my methods and my character. Having stated that I also must ask you to hold this information a secret from all outside our family for I fear it is something my enemies would use against me.You know me Mycroft I do not suffer from the fairer emotions or convey anything other then is necessary. However I feel it would make you pleased to know that I have not spent my whole life in the gloom you so often saw me living under. I have learned a lesson of late that I would have otherwise passed over where I not in the company of my most esteemed colleague Dr. John Watson.From the moment I met him my intentions shifted in an almost unperc
LLW The Resistance ch2p2But Aren't All Dreams Just Interludes Anyway? "Patrick!""Dude, wake up!"Patrick felt light headed as his surroundings rolled in around him like pieces of a set in a play. He sat up and shook his head then looked around wondering if he'd always been there. The place seemed surprisingly familiar and yet had a distinctly fake appearance, like the lounge chairs were made of cardboard. The immaculate carpet was made of sewn wool. The large window panes with sweeping views of landing strips and airplanes were giant TV screens. The song playing on the PA was 'LAX to O'Hare' instead of dull flight times and ads for restaurants in the food courts. Only one thing around him looked perfectly normal and wholly real."Pete
is it really you?" Patrick breathed dumbfounded. Standing over him looking down was Pete Wentz all in white. He nodded vigorously. His hair was short and he was sporting a beard. His irises were dark with crows feet reaching cheerily outwards. His skin was tanned a