Wanna help me with writing a story? [story so far on page 1]

[The Weird One]

I'll read it and write some. (it'll be screwed up because I'm half asleep though )

[AndrewLC]

I'll turn it in if you write some stuff

I'll take a turn after the next person.

You're not gonna use the story?

Yeah I am, I'm going to go after the next person.

[bedub1]

I was gunna write a story cause I like writing....but luns already did it....and I don't know if his was any good was it was too long and I have a short attention span right now....

[AndrewLC]

I was gunna write a story cause I like writing....but luns already did it....and I don't know if his was any good was it was too long and I have a short attention span right now....

You don't have to write a new one, add onto the one thats already here...

[bedub1]

I..just can't...not the type of story I'd write...i mean...there are peoples names in it! (I don't use names, dates, places etc....)

I'll do my own just cause i'm bored.

[Skittles!]

Mine doesn't have a place or names, just the people and things I needed to use

[The Weird One]

the bottom bit isn't first person








The phone clattered onto the ground, flipping open upon impact. The thin, reedy voice that came through, was ignored as it shouted, "I know what you did; you won't escape justice!" Pulling out his own cell phone, the teacher phoned in to 911 and informed them of the murder.




would be more, but not sure where to go with it next. You're up.

[luns101]

Luns, how long did it take you to type that?

About 15 minutes & 2 Sam Adams lagers.

[The Weird One]

[bedub1]

WTF...do tabs not work???? OMFG Spaces don't work either!!!?????

First, I'm breaking it down to the how they items required are arranged:

an Old man
*bible
*Fishing Line
*picture of a woman
*old baseball cap
*pair of sunglasses
17 year old girl
* scarf
* silver necklace
* lettermans jacket
* designer purse
17 year old boy
* car
* his mother
* his teacher
* bottle of expensive perfume
* an anonymous phone caller
empty bottle of anything
cell phone
new pair of tennis shoes

[The Weird One]

what skittles wrote doesn't directly tie into what luns wrote. you'll have to do some editing to something to make it fit.

[AndrewLC]

In his 25 years as a high school U.S. History teacher, Rich Marshall had thought he had seen and heard it all. Cloverdale High School had hired him during the spring semester after all, an unusual move. Most school districts took your application and waited until mid-June to start calling applicants for interviews. Rich, however, had been called for an interview in February.

It just so happened that Cloverdale had a little scandal to clean up after way back when. The current social studies staff had one gentleman in particular who happened to have an affinity for giving high marks to teenage girls who otherwise were failing in all other subjects. The fact that most of them happened to be drop dead gorgeous for their age had nothing to do with it, of course.

The otherwise outstanding staff member, a Mr. Greenhorn or Greenborn...(Rich couldn't exactly remember at the moment) must have thought he had the winning lottery ticket - a taxpayer-funded farm league system of incoming female recruits just ready for an easy "A" in exchange for some extracurricular tutoring outside of class. As all good things eventually come to end, so did this masquerade.

So far as the story had been related to Rich, old prof Greenhorn had given in to the urge to extend his kind tutelage to the daughter of a local city councilmen (Rich couldn't help but think of the first time he watched The Graduate while listening to this tale in the teacher's lounge). So as it turned out three months later, old man "Greenlust" was sat down with the young lady in question, her parents, and an all-star cast of local politicians and lawyers. Wouldn't you know it, but this dedicated public educational servant felt the sudden need for an early retirement two days later. As the first applicant for the upcoming school year's positions happened to be Rich, it just so happened that February wasn't such a bad month to be hired after all. Welcome to Cloverdale, friend...feel free to never follow in your predecessor's steps!

Then there was the time in 1992 where Rich and his best friend/colleague Saul Boussen (biology teacher on the other side of campus) had accidently saved the school from a shooting incident. It had taken Saul a little while longer to catch on than Rich, but he couldn't deny that Saul was a little more feared by the kids than himself and thus instrumental in stopping what could have been a tragedy. Having Saul there at the time when Rich decided to go for the gun was indeed encouraging. "How did you muster enough courage to go after the gun like that without soiling yourself?", Saul had half-joked with him later after it was all over. "I guess I didn't have time to think about it," replied Rich. He didn't have the heart to tell anyone that he believed Saul was right behind him ready to back him up and take out the would-be pre-pubescent assasin. So Rich let it go and received his special recognition and 15 minutes of fame.

He had been through the 80's with it's overextended justifications of premarital teenage sex, hedonistic lust for money, and what the kids had called "rap". He had married Linda during these years. Two years later, they had had Connor and Familia Marshall needed to move from the city out to the countryside in a 4 bedroom that would have made The Douglass' from Green Acres envious. Connor himself went through school, graduated, and now lived in Des Moines and was talking about marrying his girlfriend. "Am I really this old now?" Rich would ask himself.
The 90's saw the cultural revolution of the 60's played out in his classrooms through increased marijuana use & some weird combination of punk/metal. While the kids were getting harder to control...things were still relatively calm. The early 21st century produced kids who knew more about the internet and technology then he could ever have imagined he could learn in a college course.

So all in all it was an easy life. He worked 9 months out of the year and got 3 off. He only had to visit the in-laws during the summer and got to attend unlimited high school sporting events free to pass the time. In exchange he got a paycheck and a reputation as a stable educational professional. He didn't flinch easily and made a name amongst others in the community. All in all, he thought Cloverdale High got a pretty good deal out of hiring him in mid-spring. There wasn't much that impressed or scared Rich Marshall in his 25 years as a high school teacher.

But there was something that scared Rich now. It wasn't a wanna-be gang banger trying to disrupt his class or the threat of a parent pissed off because little Johnny was given his first C and now wanted to sue the school district. It wasn't the threat of a gun being used on campus or that he would fart one day during a lecture in front of one of his classes of 30+ students. As Rich Marshall was now the same age as the man he had replaced so many years ago in that chilly February, something changed his perspective on everying. After his 25 years of dealing with Salt Lawns finest sarcastic adolescents at Cloverdale High School, he had finally found something which scared him...a paper.

For 25 years Rich had given out an assignment that his juniors write a historical term paper from the point-of-view of 1st person. The guidelines were simple: you could be anyone from any time period covered during the semester as long as you wrote from the vantage point of someone that participated in that event. Papers had to be at least 5 pages in length. This year, Rich had given out the same assignment and a majority of the kids liked the assignment. Some even asked if they could write more than 5 pages for extra credit. Most kids waited until a week before the end of the semester to turn in the paper.

This year was different. This year someone had attached a picture of an old angry woman to the paper. This year someone had turned in the paper early...way early. This year someone had turned in the paper the very next day to be exact!

The paper lay on Rich's desk. He sat there staring at the title "PERFUME FOR YOU". There was no name on the paper. There was no date. But from looking at the cover the pages looked like they had come from the shelves of the paper section at Office Depot just yesterday. For the first time in his 25 years teaching at Cloverdale High School, Rich Marshall was scared.

The paper read:
The Old man looked forward, seeing the girl and boy, both aged 17, hold hands. He gripped his fishing line, ready to choke both of them to death. The boy was wearing a lettermans jacket, the girl a scarf and silver necklace, which sparkled in the moonlight.

He walked behind them, slowly and steadily. As he got closer he saw the boy was also wearing a pair of sunglasses. The old man pulled the fishing line tight and slowly waited until the couple put their heads together. Just then, he striked and started to choke them.

In the background, a car was coming behind the couple and the old man. The old man finished with the couple, and took the girls bag. In it, it contained a bottle of expensive perfume, a cell phone, a bible and a designer purse. On further inspection, he noticed the boy was wearing a new pair of tennis shoes and an old baseball cap, and also took this for himself.

The car drove closer, and the driver noticing the couple, stopped and got out. It was the teacher of the boy. Quickly he called the mother, as they were close friends. He didn't know how to break it to the mother, but that he did. He looked in his car and quickly made a glance at the picture of a woman, his wife.

The girls cell phone rang, and the old man saw it said "no number". And anonymous caller then, he thought to himself. With that, he chucked the phone away and strode off into the darkness. The phone clattered onto the ground, flipping open upon impact. The thin, reedy voice that came through, was ignored as it shouted, "I know what you did; you won't escape justice!" Pulling out his own cell phone, the teacher phoned in to 911 and informed them of the murder.

Rich looked up from the paper. He was wondering what it ment, it scared him so much.

Could one of his students be plotting murder? Could it be Virginia tech all over again. He had heard that the shooter there had turned in some disturbing storys himself. Rich was thinking about wether he should inform security of this...odd paper. He decided to sleep on it. He walked out of the school and started driving home.

"Who would write such a thing?" He thought

Could it be young Bobby Thornton, the class clown? Or possibly Jackie Johnson, the girl who always seemed down?

As he crawled into bed that night, he couldn't help thinking about it. He dreamed that one of his students, came in with an AK-47 and started mowing people down.

In the morning, he decided to tell the school security about it, thinking better safe than sorry.

[bedub1]

Should I continue? I have the first section taken care of, the 2nd and 3rd section are part of the memory, and the last items are meaningless words to toss into the retelling of the story....


Many years gone by, I sit here in my boat, legs set up on the seat in front of me, staring off into the evening sun. The birds chirp, the frogs croak, the fish jump, and the water bugs dart around like a spider on a web of silk. Casting my line out into the sunset, I pull my cap down to shade my face from the glare of the sun. Sigh. It’s only partially beneficial as the glare is gleaming off the surface of the water. My sunglasses are a help, but not enough to let me lie here in peace. Closing my eyes, setting my bible on my lap, I think of a time gone past. Reading my bible wont’ help; my past in inescapable; it is part of me, it is who I am. I cannot escape my actions; I cannot run away from what I have done. No more than you can run away from your heritage, from those people who are your family. My memories fade back, to the photo of my wife, sitting on my nightstand.

[AndrewLC]

Should I continue? I have the first section taken care of, the 2nd and 3rd section are part of the memory, and the last items are meaningless words to toss into the retelling of the story....


Many years gone by, I sit here in my boat, legs set up on the seat in front of me, staring off into the evening sun. The birds chirp, the frogs croak, the fish jump, and the water bugs dart around like a spider on a web of silk. Casting my line out into the sunset, I pull my cap down to shade my face from the glare of the sun. Sigh. It’s only partially beneficial as the glare is gleaming off the surface of the water. My sunglasses are a help, but not enough to let me lie here in peace. Closing my eyes, setting my bible on my lap, I think of a time gone past. Reading my bible wont’ help; my past in inescapable; it is part of me, it is who I am. I cannot escape my actions; I cannot run away from what I have done. No more than you can run away from your heritage, from those people who are your family. My memories fade back, to the photo of my wife, sitting on my nightstand.

If you want I can put that as a ending?

[bedub1]

Honestly..i tried to read the other stuff but couldn't....it seemed too disjointed.....plus I wanna write the rest of my story....regardless if you use it or not.....I've got a story to tell! an old man trying to read the bible but can't???? who can resist not hearing the rest of what I have to say!!!!!


oops..i used glare twice in a row to describe the sun...let me revise....

[AndrewLC]

Honestly..i tried to read the other stuff but couldn't....it seemed too disjointed.....plus I wanna write the rest of my story....regardless if you use it or not.....I've got a story to tell! an old man trying to read the bible but can't???? who can resist not hearing the rest of what I have to say!!!!!

Haha, go ahead.

[luns101]

I've got a story to tell! an old man trying to read the bible but can't???? who can resist not hearing the rest of what I have to say!!!!!

I want to hear it as long as you make the fishing line a major part.

[Skittles!]

Luns, how long did it take you to type that?

About 15 minutes & 2 Sam Adams lagers.

Hha, damn you drink fast.

[AndrewLC]

By the way, if you guys didn't realise I've added my part, I'll go again after 2 people

[bedub1]

We started out as a young, reckless couple. We were just a couple of kids back in high school. She was the woman of my dreams, wrapped up in a scarf to fend off the cold, my letter jacket draped across her shoulders in an advertisement of her belonging. We had been preparing for this night for weeks. Her mother had taken her shopping, the purchase of a fine knock off designer purse to go with the cubic zirconia silver necklace wrapped tightly around her neck made her sparkle like the goddess she was. The lust and desire she instilled in my groins grew in an exponential curve every time I saw her. Glimpsing her from across the way caused my heart to flutter; thoughts of impurity would be the end of me.

[bedub1]

I want to hear it as long as you make the fishing line a major part.

The fishing line needs to be a major part? no....the old man is out fishing....it's not even a large part of the story......just what he is doing....f*ck...i only have 1 beer left.....sigh

[Skittles!]

I don't believe any of these stories mix, at all

[luns101]

The lust and desire she instilled in my groins grew in an exponential curve every time I saw her.

Dude!! Is this a combination of groin & loins? LOL

[AndrewLC]

I don't believe any of these stories mix, at all

Bedub is doing a completly different story all together...

The one I'm probably going to do is above me (and soon going to be on page one once I update it.

[Skittles!]

I don't believe any of these stories mix, at all

Bedub is doing a completly different story all together...

The one I'm probably going to do is above me (and soon going to be on page one once I update it.

Eh, above you?

EDIT: Don't worry, I know what you mean