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Newest Deviations… Don't click here... I-I said don't... You did, didn't you?

Well, don't say I didn't warn yah.



       It was cold that day. I remember because the winds whisked past my face through the small cracks and holes in my broken window along with small droplets of gelid rain shooting like bullets onto my cheeks. I lay on my bed, buried in a bundle of blankets, shivering as my own tears blended in with the rain beading down on the roof over my head. I remember this day because it’s the day I learned what a hurricane was. It’s the day I learned what my first fear was; murky weather and heavy winds. As a five year old I was naturally small in size height wise, standing at a mere four foot two. As the monstrous hurricane soon subsided hours, what felt like days later, my mother grasped my hand and with a loving, reassuring smile, leading me outside to observe the damage the winds had caused. I didn’t understand the sight before my eyes back then as a child, but as I think back at that neighborhood now, I’m glad I didn’t. Trees that once stood tall and proud in the sky had fallen onto the pavement and backyards of my neighbors. If memory serves right, at least two houses were missing chunks of their roof and windows; trees of heavy rain having taken a toll on the material that held up the house. My mom had to keep a tight grip on my petite hand as the winds were still heavy and I felt my feet began to raise from the asphalt beneath my Barbie sneakers. I had to beg mom to bring me back inside for I was too frightened to stay outside for another second. I felt as if I couldn’t breathe and my vision began to manipulate the world around me, changing objects from small to bigger, indistinguishable to clear. That feeling of dread that showered me during those terrible hurricane days still haunt me as I listen to the droplets of rain pound against my broken window and sturdy roof over my head. The storm rages on.
       It was warm that day. I remember because of the arms that were wrapped tightly around my upper torso in a comforting display of affection and love. His chin rested on my shoulder as I laid the side of my cheek against his tangled raven hair, enjoying the short lived moment as it lasted. Though the warm rays of sunlight shown down on our scalps, warming our souls, I felt scared. Though his soft spoken and angelic voice mumbled soothing words to my shaking and crying figure, I felt horrified. Though he told me countless times it was alright and that everything would be fine in due time, I felt forlorn. I had learned that day what the word trust meant and I wanted nothing but to be able to spit out this bittersweet vocabulary from my dictionary and bury it deep in the dirt where it belonged. Progress in time and building causalities limits my ability to comprehend what others say in a sincere and meaningful text. Trust in me and anyone near had begun to debauch at the unfortunate age of only seven.
       I screamed that day. My own eardrums rang in my skull at the sound of my own piercing voice as my throated singed in pain from the burning sensation emanating from my lungs. The deplorable aroma of latex and leather stung my nostrils and made my eyes water and burn. The crunching and bone tingling sound of bones breaking in my skull made me cringe, though not physically as that action was impossible at that current moment. My mouth was propped, or rather forced open my a steel guard of some sorts as a pair of what looked to be pliers probed the insides of my mouth, yanking out over five of my blunt teeth. Replacing the holes with fake silver teeth, I was let go from my prison, tears streaming down my face as my hand cupped my cheek, rubbing the numb skin pathetically as an attempt to calm myself down. Leaving that office, I resented the mere thought of ever stepping foot in such a terrible and haunting place again. But sometimes we don’t always get what we want. Latex gloves, maraschino colored leather chairs, the whirring drills, and the prickling feeling of goosebumps rising on my arms and neck has yet to escape from my memory. I learned what the word phobia meant that day.
       I laughed that day. My body slumped onto my oversized futon alongside the boy I had the pleasure of calling my ideal best friend. A warm controller in one hand, an open can of Monster energy drink in the other, I felt complete with him by my side. My stomach began to hurt and cramp as my hand clamped over my abdomen, my mouth gaping as my throated shooting out waved of wheezes and uncontrollable laughter; hysterical even. Nearly spilling my beverage, I leaned my head against his shoulder, dropping my controller and hitting his back, yelling at him to cease his current actions that are causing my stomach muscles to spasm and twitch in such a humorous way. He hadn’t done anything to me physically to have caused such laughter to leave my vocal cords. He merely made a comment towards a videogame we were so indulged in, it took me by surprised and caused my befuddled expression at his words to soon dissolve into laughter. I learned what the word content meant that day.
       I felt vacuous that day. Her burning stare gazed into my eyes as her faux smile crippled my thoughts into believing her vexing lies she spoon fed me every day like a mindless child hoisted up into a highchair. I trusted her and I believe in her. I believed her when she told me she’d love me till the end of time. I believed her when she told me she’d do anything for me, so long as we’re both happy and content with one another’s decisions. I believed her when she spoke. Shunning decisions and thoughtless actions only result in the outcome depleting into a withered version of the plan we map out for ourselves in our head; crushing the sleepless dreams we dream and sending us nightmares in the mail with no return address. But dreams are only dreams, and that is what she was. In a dream, you can conjure up whatever you can conceive and manipulate the imitation of reality into something greater, something palpable. Yet, I’m afraid to dream.
       I felt angry that day. Rage boiled inside me like a lobster being broiled alive in a scorching hot pot full of bubbling water. My knuckles turned white from how tight they were clenched together at my side, my arms twitching spastically as I resisted the urge to swing my wrists upward towards the targeted being in front of me. Her mocking laugh only fueled my aggravation; more firewood being hastily tossed into the already roaring fire that crackled as it licked the air around it in desperation to burn. The blood rushed to my face in pure anger and hatred at the taller eighth grader in front of me. As a twelve year old boldly scowling up at the fourteen year old in front of me with no one else around to assist either of us in the case of violence, I felt vulnerable and frightened. But something snapped; a chocolate brown tree branch in my minds emerald forest. My vision blackened as my mind blurred, yet I could feel my knee come into contact with something soft, followed by a wince of pain that didn’t come from me. I felt my glasses fly from my face, as well as my hands swinging and swiping down at someone below me. I had only then realized I had begun to straddle the female, hitting down at her with a fury neither of us knew I possessed. It didn’t last long. Others that belonged in the female’s fake friend circle had come to her rescue, throwing me off of her as they scampered her to the clinic. I learned what the word issue meant that day.
       I felt discouraged that day. This illusion of a realty spun backflips in my mind, racing faster than my fingers on this keyboard as I type as if my life depended on it. My guardians never well informed me of a few valuable acknowledgements that I had longed to know about. This holographic universe didn’t make much sense to me. It still doesn’t. I can comprehend quantum physics and somewhat understand the multiverse theory. Yet the demise of others as the sand in their hourglass runs out still eludes me to this very day. Beings entangle themselves into farcical state of affairs while asking how they found themselves in such precarious predicaments. Holes are dug by those afraid to descend into. Coffins are buried by the deceased themselves, and others wonder what point their actions serve. My teacher once told me to simply go buy some gold, bury it, and just wait out the end of the world, “cause it ain’t gonna get better”. I developed a fear of a meaningless death that day.
       It was cold today. A cold, windy morning hit my face as I stepped outside into the driveway of my small home that held five including myself. As the time from the car ride to the school passes, I step out onto the chilling concrete, the holes in my black boots not proving helpful as the similar holes in my socks expose my heels, chilling the back of my feet. Greeted with friendly faces, warm hugs, and hilariously ironic inside jokes, I feel as though I belong. Though my jacket holds no support in these internally cold shivers, I at least have a few blankets to warm me throughout the breezes; huddling around me the days I most need them. I thank them in my own way without actually using the word itself. I haven’t had the unfortunate privilege to have gone through a certain number of hardships, as many others have. But I still had fears, night terrors as a child, and hallucinations during a simple illness. Life has prepared me for future situations I wouldn’t have been able to fight through during prior years. Positive thinking, self-motivation and a glass full of ice cold apple juice keeps me going through the boulders that tumble down from the mountain overhead and onto the road I continue to trek. My only advice to anyone willing to peer over these arguable words and incoherent vocabulary is simple; wear a jacket, buckle up your jeans, grab a beanie and embrace the cold because it’s never going away. Don’t be selfish, don’t be frightened, and don’t be weak. There are people out there who feed on weakness and fear and we as vulnerable human teenagers are dripping in it.
       It was cold today. So, what did you do?
It Was Cold That Day
Something I wrote for speech. The topic was about anything we wanted it to be, so I did this. 
Mature Content Filter is On
(Contains: ideologically sensitive material)
       “Leave,” a command his ears have grown all too familiar with during these past few months. A command he wouldn’t follow like an obedient dog on a leash to its owner.
       “Leave? Now why would you want me to do that? Don’t you enjoy my company?”
       A scoff escaped her thin peach lips, followed by the shaking of her head; her ear length hair shuffling against her skull and in the summer breeze.
       “Company? You mean the nightmares you stuff into my brain every night? The pranks and tricks you pull on me while I’m at school? You mean the-“
       He lifted a gloved hand in the air, cutting her words off, his skimpy fingers waving back and forth.
       “There’s no need to continue that statement,” he said with a sigh of defeat. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he left out yet another huff of air for the umpteenth time that day, rearing his eyes elsewhere; anywhere that wasn’t her.
       “If you’re not going to leave, and if you don’t want anything in particular other than to pester me, I’m going back to-“
       As she began to saunter towards the pathway behind the blond man in her way, he took a step to the side, blocking her exit, his hands politely folded behind the back of his yellow, pyramid patterned, tailcoat.
       “Now, now, kiddo, remember our deal? I need you for today.”
        His daunting smirk sent shivers down her spine as she shook her head, growing irritated by the elegant looking male currently bothering her; quite out of place what with his malicious and suspicious nature in the rather placid and quiet scenery surrounding them.
       “You said you had no plans for today. Look, I have things to do today and I don’t need you getting in my way!” her attempt at dominance went utterly ignored as the male simply scoffed with a cocked eyebrow.
       “Things to do? Bah! Oh course you do. Work this, baseball that, school this… Is that all you do? You’re no fun at all, red.”
       His hands rested on his hips in a sassy-like manner, squinting an eye towards the crimson haired female. She would have noticed both eyes sending her a father mocking gleam, but the right one was covered by a black, triangular eyepatch, a rather useless one at that considering his vison was a perfect 20/20.
        “Not with you around. Which, mind you, is all the time. Ever since you showed up in my life, there’s been no time for fun.”
       She buried her clenched fists into the sagging pockets of her rather large, emerald green khaki jeans that would constantly be stepped on by her heels from how far the cuffs go down to, often dirtying them up by the end of the day. She let out an aggravated sigh, almost begging for him to leave her alone in her mind, absolutely not in the mood for his games and tricks.
       “You forget I’ve been watching you even before I first came into contact with you. Ha! Oh, kid, you’re hilarious,” he exclaimed with the slapping of his knee, his echoed and maniacal laughter bouncing off the trees of the woodland where they currently stood, not a soul to hear. The younger females’ house was quite a ways away from the town she attended school at, having to cut through the forest as a shortcut most of the time.  
       “Face it, kid, you’re desolate without me. Remember, I follow you when you go to classes and to your games. You don’t interact with anyone unless you need to, and people have begun to notice so they don’t speak with you. In this sad reality, I’m your only friend.”
       Her glare soften but her fists only tighten up, her knuckles beginning to turn white as the blood rushed away from the pressured area. She couldn’t have said it better herself. Before the golden haired demon showed up, her life was just one long and endless silent black and white movie. She’d go weeks, months even, without speaking to a soul around her, keeping in her own little bubble of solitude no one could pop. That is, until she met him. Truth be told, she didn’t utterly detest his company. No, she’s grown rather fond of the demon that shadowed her everywhere. It was oddly comforting to her to know that she can actually have a full on conversation with someone without the topic growing old or boring. She’d often times interact or communicate with him during class. As a demon, a Dream Demon at that, he holstered the ability to read minds, so she’d think whatever she wanted to say to him, and he’d respond; making his form invisible to those around them, only for her to see. A unique friendship at that, though it did come with a small wager. A deal with the devil, almost.
       She let out a sigh, hanging her head as she let her gaze fall onto the chocolate brown dirt beneath her, her shoulders slouched.
       “Yeah, you’re right, aren’t you? I’ve kept myself secluded away from others, I’ve begun to forget what the word friend actually meant. It’s funny as to how my first ever friend turned out to not actually be a normal human, huh? Man, I’m pathetic…”
       His smirk fell, a rare sight to see, for that wicked smile of his was practically glued to his face, unless angered or upset which, again, was a rare sight to see. It began to dawn on him at how long the two have been by each other’s side; nearly two years now. Two years ago, the two had made a deal with one another. As a Dream Demon with no physical vessel, he needed a body, one with working veins, a beating heart, and a thoughtful brain, in order to cause any significance in his plans with a certain male teen that resided in the town, the two being at a small war at the moment, and in exchange, he stays alongside the girl, protecting her from any danger in her life until the day she gulps her last breath of fresh air. He would be able to possess her, in a way, and be granted permission do to whatever he pleases as he charades as the girl while her soul, meanwhile, floated in a place one would call Limbo. Though, the demon simply dubbed it the Mindscape; a place where she’s practically a ghost. She could maneuver through the real world, following him in her body if she wishes, unable to be seen to anyone but him. Once his business in her body was accomplished, her body would be returned to her, though often resulting in a major headache and multiple pains all over her body, though this detail began to go unnoticed by her, as the pain was always existent, she learn to get used to it.
       He had been around the lake eyed girl for so long, he started to wonder how she would be now without him. Their first encounter was a rather unpleasant one, though not on his part. He had saved her life the first day they formally met.
       “What in Gravity Falls are you doing,” he pondered, his voice echoing throughout the room, it’s only audible inhabitant being the sobbing girl currently standing atop a wobbly wooden stool, a hastily tied noose above her head on a rusty hook drilled into the ceiling. Her actions couldn’t be clearer. Her sobs wavered and trembled, her shaking body was like that of a child on a sugar rush during Halloween night. Her head swiveled towards the stranger in her doorway, his hands folded over his chest, his one-eyed gaze staring into her eyes calmly.
       “W-who…” her voice was husky and almost forced, it having been months since she uttered her last word. She peered towards the man with shocked and terrified eyes, more tears streaming down her pale cheeks, down to her chin, and plopping onto the chair and tiled flooring below her.
      “There’s really no need for this, you know,” it was more of a statement rather than a question in context.
       He took slow, cautious steps towards her, not taking his eyes off of her trembling figure.
       “As much as I love pain, I find it hilarious in fact, this isn’t exactly an intellectual way to go. It’s rather interesting to see, however, what pushes you humans to such lengths in such a period of time.”
       She gripped onto the noose, dangerously close to her neck, eyeing the stranger up and down. He was rather formally dressed, a while buttoned up undershirt neatly tucked into a pair of freshly ironed, black dress pants, the top of which covered by a yellow, pyramid patterned, tailcoat. He wore black gloves that covered his light pink tinted fingers, the darkened color exact to the triangular bowtie that rested just below his pointed chin; a small scruff of a blond goatee growing on his skin. His hair was short, barely going below his ears, blond and rather spikey looking. Above him levitated a long, rectangular ebony top hat. Covering his right eye was an isosceles triangle, inside it was the same shape, though in yellow with a black, slitted eye in the middle. He looked rather dapper appearance wise.
       The closer he stepped towards her, the more panicked she became.
       “S-Stay away from me! Who are you?”
       Her breathing quickened at a frantic pace, her chest heaving desperately up and down. The man held up his gloved hands in defense, standing perfectly still now.
       “Relax, kiddo, I’m not here to hurt you. Considering, you’re already about to do that yourself.”
       He let out a short, almost taunting, laugh, referring to the noose she was just about to loop around her neck.
       “Now, if you would, please step down from that stool so we can have a civilized chat. I’d rather not have to look up at you in order to do that, if you don’t mind. Plus, that rickety old chair looks like it could snap under your small frame at any second now, and, my, how that would hurt!”
       She looked towards the noose in her grasp, feeling that all too familiar feeling of depression, before returning her gaze towards the strange man in her bedroom; that melancholy feeling strangely being ripped away from her thoughts.
       The girl found herself unconsciously complying to his request, shakily stepping a foot off of the wooden furniture, stumbling onto the man in front of her, her face accidently burring into his clothed chest. The man grabbed her bobbing shoulders, gingerly walking her over towards the small sized, twin bed, sitting her down at the edge with himself poised beside her. She covered her flushed, tear stained face in her hands, sobbing rather violently into her palms, letting many unidentifiable emotions out through the water from her eyes.
       That man sat next to her, patiently waiting for the waterworks session to cease, his gloved right hand resting contently on her shoulder, giving her an almost reassuring squeeze every so often, almost as to let her know he’s still there with her. The two sat in the apathetic air filled room for what felt like hours, days to the one actually crying. She had never let her emotions run wild like this before, let alone in front of another person, or whatever this man was. She thought he could’ve been an angel, or perhaps someone looking out for her, though, she was far from it. The man began to spoke as her sobs slowly subsided into meek sniffles and gasps for air.
       “Take this any way you wish kid, but I’ve been keeping an eye on you for quite some time. I honestly didn’t think you’d go this far,” he said with a scoff.
       She lifted her head, wiping her wet face with the back of her wool knit sweater, damping the fabric, gawking up at the man.
       “An… eye on me? Like, stalking?”
       He chuckled lowly, almost darkly as if to try and creep her out. He grinned down at the girl, tilting his head as if observing her.
       “That’s another word for it yes. Though, stalking is what petty humans do. I am not a petty human,” he motioned to himself, outstretching his fingers as he did so, “I’m far from human, as a matter of fact.”
       “Then… what are you,” she inquired, trying to come to conclusions on who the man really was. He had intrigued her from the start; him showing up, seemingly out of nowhere, in her room without the simplest sound of a door being opened or a window being unlocked, to his strange honeyed aura. He frightened her, yet she felt eerily safe in his presence.
       His grin only grew, as if pleased she had asked that question, “I, kiddo, am a Dream Demon. I can manipulate dreams, haze your memories, hell, I even know what you’re thinking about right this very instant!”
       A demon? Not at all what she had anticipated. But he did get her undivided attention at this point.
       “A… Dream Demon? Enlighten me.”
       The two began to converse. Her first ever conversation she’s had since her parents passed away. It was almost thrilling for her to be able to talk and open up to someone, whether it was with a demon or not, the feeling felt nice. She even managed to crack a smile while they talked, only increasing the demons seemingly permanent grin as he watched her every muscle movement. She wasn’t like normal humans he’d encounter on a daily basis like Pinetree or Shooting Star.
       “Oh, you never told me your name,” she had spoken up after a short silence shared between the two, her having just remembered this was still a practical stranger she was talking to.
       “Ah, where are my manners? You can call me Bill. Bill Cipher,” he bowed his head, the hat above his flaxen hair remaining perfectly straight.
       Cipher. That surname was quite foreign to her, though she shrugged it off considering he wasn’t even human.
       “Oh, well I’m-“
       He raised a hand in the air, cutting her off. “Oh, no need for introductions, kid. I already know your name.”
       This fact would’ve raised more red flags about the man, but she remembered how he had said he’s been keeping an eye on her. It still freaked her out. Though after showing her his intentions aren’t bloodlust, she decided to shrug off her fears for now.
       “Man, I’m pathetic…”
       He snapped himself back into the present, the memory leaving his current thoughts. He hadn’t taken his eye off the girl whose head still hung down like a rag doll. Her sigh almost startled him, as she had been silent for quite some time. It almost began to perplex the brightly colored haired Dream Demon.
       “I’m going home to catch up on some sleep. I’m skipping class for today,” She turned on her heels, solemnly beginning to trudge back towards her house, the opposite direction of her school. The demon was quick to protest, jolting forward to rather roughly grab her upper arm, tugging her back closer to him.
       “I didn’t mean it,” he blurted out before he could even process his littered thoughts.
       She lifted her head, turning to look up at the blonds black slitted eyes, tilting her head in confusion.
       “What are you talking about?”
       He let out a huff of air, slumping his shoulders as his teeth gritted together.
       “When I said you weren’t fun. It wasn’t true. Sure, you may not have any friends to do fun things with, but you still have me. You and I have tons of fun harassing Pinetree, right? We also have fun when I bring other humans into the Dreamscape with us to mess with, right? Yeah, we have fun. You’re a rather entertaining human to have around, a reason I haven’t called off our deal, which is something I would’ve done had you been any of the other unamusing blood banks that walk around here,” he sneered, glancing towards the pathway behind them towards the town, glaring at the trees in anger; anger at most of the humans in the town and at the fact he was hesitant at apologizing to her. Being a demon of pure malice energy, with no weaknesses mind you, he wasn’t used to the word sorry, so he settled on avoiding the word all together in his own unique form of an ‘apology’.
       She sighed heavily, letting out a low chuckle that progressively got louder, more heartfelt and meaningful, to the point where she was laughing hysterically, “blood banks? Really, Cipher?”
       His smile returned to his lips, her laughter being the cause. He hadn’t heard her laugh like that for a few months. The first cause being them pulling a prank on Pinetree by tying a rope to a bucket and balancing it on the top of the door to his room. When he walked in, he got drenched by a gallon and a half of clear lake water they gathered from the stream near her house. His utterly shocked and angered expression was priceless to the two pranksters. Her laugh was quite delectable to the heartless demon, having he could be listening to it for hours and still be pleased with the sound of her vocal cords humming with joy and happiness.
       “What? That’s what you practically are! Hey, don’t judge my choice of words,” he feigned a pout, poking his saliva drenched tongue out of his mouth at her in a childish gesture.
       She rolled her eyes, her laughter subsiding into a simple, content smile; a smile that could shine the brightest light into the darkest and emptiest tunnel.
       “Hey… what were your last minute plans for today?”
       He raised an eyebrow, not seeing the point in her question, but answering nonetheless. “To go try and get that forsaken journal away from that pesky human, Pinetree. Why do you ask?”
       Her smirk grew as she raised her hand for him to take; a small, malice glint shimmering in her eyes.
        “Let’s go have fun.”
       His eyes traveled down to her petite fingers, the wind brushing up against them, making them twitch slightly at the subtle cold chill of the summer breeze. He grasped her hand with his gloved one, giving it a firm shake before dragging her closer, the grin never leaving his expression.
       “Kid… you’re a joy to have around. Now, let’s go reek entertaining havoc throughout Gravity Falls!”
       Her smile only widened as she nodded her head enthusiastically.
       “As friends… right?” she had a hopeful twinkle in her beautifully blue eyes.
       He nodded, raising a hand to ruffle her boyishly short scarlet hair, the locks rubbing in between the spaces of his fingers, sticking up from how he was messing up her hair.
       “Of course, kiddo…
       …best friends.”
A Unique Friendship (Bill Cipher)
Another part of the small series involving this unnamed female and her sort of encounters with the Dream Demon we all know and love (Though love might just be a code word for fear). 
I put the warning up for the implied suicide attempt. I'm unsure what kind of situations I should write about for these two, but I'll think of something (For those of you actually reading this, give me suggestions if you wanna! I could use some ideas). 
I apologize if Bill seems a bit out of character (OOC) in these. It's not that I'm not used to writing for generally malice characters, this is just how I write for him.
Again, Bill Cipher does NOT belong to me.
Nice day everyone! <3
       His words stung like thorns in her sides, pricking at her skin. These words held so much truth to them, yet her stubborn nature and current incoherent thinking led her to think otherwise. She tried to shake his words out of her head, but to no avail; they were there to stay.
       "What are you fighting for?"
       That’s the question of the century, isn’t it? What is there left anymore? Was there any way for her to change her current path into life? Her head burned, singed, pounded, throbbed; an unbearable pain no amount of painkillers could erase. He tormented her everywhere; mornings, school, baseball practice, her own mind wasn’t even safe from his grasp. She dreamt of him every nightfall, his abilities involving dreams and people subconscious thoughts being the reason. He made his point across that he was there to stay.
       "Why must you torture me? What have I done to anger you so much that you have to make my life a living hell?"
       Her words amused him, his taunting laugh filling the monochrome room; completely devoid of all color thanks to that demon. Wiping fake tears from his eye, he peered straight into her withering soul
       "You’ve done absolutely nothing to anger me in any way shape or form, kid. It just amuses me to see how you’re still kicking even will all the annoyances I’ve put you through."
       Amusement. Was that really all he was after? Surely there had to be more than that, she pondered. There was plenty more humans on this Earth, why did he have to pick her out of the billions?  Her gaze retracted from the golden being to observe the room she resided in. Her room, yet also not quite. Her nightstand and emerald green lamp was now a dull, grey color, her wallpaper the same, her twin sized bed a beige and depressing shade. Everything in the room was colorless and melancholy.
       "Is there… something specific you’re after? You’ve mentioned the phrase Dream Demon multiple times… But what does that mean exactly?"
       Her cluelessness made him chuckle, his echoed, honeyed voice attempting to give off a false sense of security to the young girl, though she knew better. His tricks and pranks couldn’t fool her anymore. So far, he hadn’t done anything too life threatening towards her; just the occasional scare or false sense of danger. Nothing more. She had researched multiple sources, trying to figure out anything about him. Nothing. Cold trails at every turn. Why was it so difficult to find out what a dream demon was?
       "It means I’m able to control what you dream of. I can tamper with your memories, change what you’re dreaming about. I’m also quite notorious for my… deals"
       His eye flashed a malicious red glow at his last word, a blue flame emitting from his black, gloved hand for a mere second; providing an eerie light within the monochrome room. She sat herself down on her bed that was stone hard and arctic cold, though both these features have begun to grow on her, as she was in his world quite often from him dragging her in there constantly. He called it the Dreamscape.
       "Deals? What kind of deals?"
       That question could’ve been the death of her. Deals. That word spun around in her mind, the meaning just out of reach. A reference to a card game? The signing of a contract? Or perhaps even a deal with the devil is what he meant? The man’s cunning grin only grew at her question, as if he was expecting it, which he most likely was.
       "Oh, it’s quite simple. I offer something to someone and they retaliate with something promised to me in return. It’s a win, win situation, honestly… Would you like to make a deal with me?"
       His voice sounded almost melodic as that word slipped off of his tongue; deal. What kind of deal could he possible offer to her? Maybe she can make a deal for him to stop pestering and following her around? It was a longshot, but worth a try.
       "Is there any way I can make a deal with you for you to leave me alone?"
       He tapped his covered hand against his chin in a gesture to show he was thinking about her words, though he really wasn’t, his smirk never residing from his slim face. Kicking his feet off the ground, he levitated himself above her, his hands reaching down to capture some of her silky red hair in his grasp, contently watching it as it fell back down passively against the side of her face.
       "I have an offer that you’ll most likely agree on. Though it doesn’t involve me leaving your side, kid. Whether you accept the deal or not, you’re stuck with me for quite some time. Though, my offer is slightly less… painful."
       Slightly. That words made her cringe, already shivering from him touching her hair. Her eyes narrowed up at the blond boy above her, her eyes trailing up his rather dapper style of clothing. His white undershirt, not a wrinkle to be seen, was tucked neatly underneath a pair or dark, formal dress pants, the top part covered by a pyramid patterned, golden tailcoat. Another rather formal attribute to his outfit was the isosceles bowtie he wore just below his neck. His right eye was covered by a black, triangular eyepatch, another golden triangle with a silted eye in the middle of it. He’s never gone into detail of why he wore the eyepatch, as he had mentioned multiple times he could see perfectly fine without it, though he just preferred it on most of the time. A rather tall, rectangular black top hat floated- yes, floated –above the blonds head, following his head whenever he turned or moved. He hasn’t stopped grinning since they entered the Dreamscape once she had fallen asleep, as they did nearly every night as long as she had the energy for it. She eyes him strangely, trying to read what he was thinking about, but it was as if he was an illegible chapter book not even a College graduate could attempt to read. She, after a moment of consideration, sighed, her gaze relaxing, albeit too tiring for her to continue her, rather rude, stare at him, not having slept in quite a few days.
       "What did you have in mind?"
       With a satisfied nod, he clapped his hands together, startling the younger girl below him enough for her to jump, her heart beat quickening. The sight of her scared expression brought amusement to him.
       "Well, this body isn’t exactly…. adequate enough for me to simply prance around the human world in, for it isn’t a full vessel. I need a human body to… possess, if you will, for a while as I go about my errands. There’s some unfinished business I need to take care of involving a certain human male that you seem to be well acquainted with… See where I’m going with this?"
       After processing his statement she replied with a father confused expression. She folded her arms in defense, slouching slightly in her seat, though not making a dent in the comforter underneath her weight that was practically frozen in time.
       "So… what you’re saying is that you need me as a… puppet of sorts to allow you to use me as if I was your own body? Like, possession in the movies? How would I benefit from this in any way, shape, or form? Seems pretty redundant to me…"
       He grinned, as if he wasn’t already, at her words, lowering himself down to her level, laying on air on his stomach, the bottom of his tailcoat obeying the laws of gravity and falling down by his sides. Yet his hat stayed perfectly erect.
       "I won’t be using you as a vessel the entire time, of course. Only certain occasions when I require it. You’ll still have free will, so there’s no worry for that. Where you benefit from this is where I stay by your side until the day you cough out your last breath, drip your last drop of blood, and take your last step, protecting you from those who wish harm to be placed upon you, assisting you with any major issues you may obtain in your short, human life. You’re quite the isolated female, kiddo, and you’re also the main target of ridicule and humiliation; rarely anyone is on your side… Wouldn’t it be absolutely delicious to know what’s it like to have a… friend? Especially a friend who can bring harm upon those who’ve hurt you?"
       His words stung her hard though remained true; she was never able to trust another human being enough to allow them to become her friend, let alone someone she’d trust her life with. Though, her trust for this demon in front of her still reigned short. Could she really trust him?
       "Earlier I asked you, what are you fighting for? You never gave me an answer because you don't have one. Well, if you give in to my deal now, I can give you a reason to fight the war sprawling out in your mind right now. Reality’s an illusion kid, and this God awful universe is just a hologram. So, why don’t you buy the gold, say hello to a new and improved life and bid that old, torturous life goodbye?"
       He leaned back away from her, outstretching a hand for her to shake; a bright, almost blinding familiar blue flame shooting out from his hand, surrounding his palm. Her eyes darted towards the flame, as if afraid she’ll get burnt just by looking directly as the illuminating aqua color. So many red flags shot of in her head, all of which were going ignored. He’s a demon, he’s not to be trusted! Have you never seen a movie before? He’ll betray you! This deal’s ridiculous, don’t agree. She shook her head of these thoughts and inquiries, her eyes peering back up at the demons uncovered, slitted black eye.
       "If I agree to this… deal, will anyone get hurt? Not just me, but anyone around me?"
He looked almost disappointed at her question, quickly snapping back to his usual suspicious looking complexion. He let out a rather creepy giggle, his shoulders bounding as his, somewhat spiked, hair on top of his head did in suit.
       "Why would you even bother wasting your worries on the mongrels around you? What has any of them done for you? Especially that Pinetree."
       He sneered, his grin, for once, disappearing into an angered frown, his teeth gritting to the point where it seemed they crack at any second. This unnerved the girl, having gotten used to his eerie grin for the past few weeks she’s known him.
       "He uses you, kid, don’t you see? He’s done nothing to help you, even after you’ve sacrificed so much for him. But with me, you’ll have no issues seeing that, once I’ve shown you how I can help you, I’m one to be trusted. Now…"
       His signature smile returned to his face once more, giving the girl a small sense of relief. He wiggled his fingers in the air towards her, the blue flame licking the cold air around it in desperation.
       " we have ourselves a deal?"
       Her face scrunched up in a concentrated expression, weighing over her options at the matter at hand. No matter what path she chose for herself, this golden demon was sure to follow her till she croaks or give in to the pressure. Though the thought of a bodyguard-like figure watching over her didn’t seem albeit too torturous sounding; in fact, it sounded almost too good to be true.
       "Tick tock, kid, times-a ticking. You’re about to wake up, so you might want to hurry and seal the deal, or else I’m calling it off once your eyes open."
       She squeezed her eyes shut, taking in a deep breath of the odorless room, letting out a huff of air. She looked down at her right hand, cracking her knuckled as she fumbled with her fingers.
       "Alright, demon…"
       She raised her head, a thin smile spreading onto her rather paled face as she peered directly into his eye. She reached her hand out to grasp his blue flamed one, giving it a firm shake; ignoring the warm sensation flowing from her fingertips and through her nervous system.
       "…it’s a deal."
       A rather malice glint flickered in the demons uncovered eye as his grinned only widened down at the girl, shaking back the small hand in his gloved grip.
       "You’ve made the right choice, kiddo. And, please…"
       The blue fire suddenly shot through the girls arm, surrounding her entire body as she’s lifted off of her stone bed and into the air, level with the demon whose fingers were still intertwined with hers.
       "…call me Bill."
       Her eyes suddenly shot open, her body jolting forward as her covers are flown off her body; sweat beading down her forehead and neck, though the temperature was at a low 75. With heavy and ragged breaths, she clutched the area where her heart was located on her chest, the beat quickening to a rather extreme pace. Her head swiveled around her room, to which the color had returned to its natural formation, her eyes opened wide, as if on a lookout for someone; to which she was. The green glowing numbers on her alarm clock read 6:26, only four minutes before her alarm was set to ring at. She felt utterly exhausted, having been in the Dreamscape not counting as a good night’s sleep. As a sort of unusual reflex of hers, she glanced down at the palms of her hands, only giving off a confused hum at what she saw.
       The image, of what seemed to be burned onto the palm of her hand, of a triangular figure with a single eye in the middle was now visible in her skin; the same symbol the demon had on the eyepatch he wore yet never needed.
       "If I happen to not be around, and something were to happen to you while I’m away, press this symbol up to any of your eyes. Think of it as a simple summoning technique I thought would be easy for you to manage. You’re not going to classes today, so sleep in. I’ll need you to tomorrow Saturday afternoon, however, so sleep well."
       The familiar male voice bounced off the walls of her room, slightly starling the girl from her sleep deprived state. With a sigh and a pinch of her nose, she reached over to shut off her alarm before rubbing the palm of her hand.
      A deal with a demon? I guess…

       I guess I could get used to it.
(Bill Cipher) A Deal With a Demon
After becoming utterly obsessed with the show Gravity Falls (more-so in love with Bill Cipher) I decided to write... whatever this is. 
It's part of a mini series I'm working on where Bill is constantly pestering and bothering this unnamed girl, all the while carrying out a deal he made with her; allowing him to take control of her body and (just like what happened with Dipper) walk around the human world and reek havoc. I don't have a name for the girl, nor will I ever because that's how I want ti to be. Nameless. Is that alright? I think that's alright.
Welp, enough rambling, I hope for those of you reading you enjoy this short! Please excuse any errors or confusing wordings I may have overlooked while revising.

Oh, and Bill Cipher (or anyone from Gravity Falls for that matter) do not belong to me in any way, I imply wrote this for the hell of it.
Mature Content Filter is On
(Contains: violence/gore and strong language)
       Dark splotches of the red sticky liquid stained the washcloth dipped in soap and now scarlet, faucet water. The color wasn’t out of place nor was it abnormal to see within the perimeter of where the two resided. It matched her hair, his bloodshot eyes, her lucky pinky ring, his sharp weapon that was coated with the delightful shade of rusty red. Dreadful silence flooded the room, along with the occasional grunt and annoyed moan from the male whose face was currently being washed, the satisfying ‘splash’ of the water waving within the dented, metal bucket, and the audible muffled muttering from the adjacent room across from where the two sat. The living room they were in reeked of rotten flesh and blood, a somewhat normal scent that flourished the mansion; not one complaint.
       "You need to be more careful next time. "
       Her words skittered through his mind, a sentence he’s heard one too many times beforehand; a warning he has yet to heed. It wasn’t the fact he wasn’t cautious of his surroundings, or even careful when it comes to his sprees, no, it was more of him being too stubborn to accept the fact that seeking assistance isn’t the worst thing he could possibly do. She speaks as a friend, not some nagging girl who hates the sight of blood; a sight she had grown used to over the years.
       "You say that every time I come home like this… do you ever get tired of having to clean up my messes every damn time? At this point I’d be pretty tired of doing the same shit over and over again."
       The thought of her help becoming extinct made the boy internally wince. Sure, she wasn’t the only human he could count on, that wasn’t the issue. It was the attachment he had with her, the trust, the bond, the eerie and unusual friendship they shared with one another. It was special in such a way the thought of bursting through the door in a wave of adrenaline, covered in that familiar, sticky red substance, without her sitting there, that reassuring and content smirk on her face and that gleam in her eyes, it made him cringe.
       "Language, please… Tired? No… annoyed? Maybe… Hey, I finally learned how to get blood out of the couch. So you don’t have to worry about ruining it anymore when you come home."
       There she goes again. Those vexing, reassuring words of hers. It made his head throb and pound. Why was she, the most innocent, accepting, and heartwarming girl, still bothering with this hostile, easily irritated, murderous male? Why had she put herself through such stressful tasks, all just to please him enough for him to soundly sleep at night; or afternoon, depending on the time of day or night he returns to their secluded forest home?
       "Sorry, and that’s good… Hey, how long have we known each other? Four, five year?"
       He was never good with dates. He was so rarely in the house, he had almost forgotten it was his own birthday that week. Though, she never forgets. She could easily remember the exact time, date, and location when and where the two first made contact; which just so happened to be in that exact forest their home was built upon. She was starving, freezing, and terrified. But, for once in all his years of living as a killer, she wasn’t scared of him. She looked up to him as some sort of angel. Something came over him that day when he took her in. It irritated him, yet he felt warm for the first time since the death of his family; that of which he had caused.
       "Six… six years, two months and five days… Did you forget that tomorrow was your birthday?"
       Of course, he had been wondering what he had forgotten! Thanks to her he had remembered. Thanks to her… It’s always her, isn’t it?
       "Man, I feel like an old man with Alzheimer’s… What would I remember without you, huh?"
       He let out a chuckle, the red stained water dripping from his cheek and onto the couch they sat upon. A simple stain. Nothing she couldn’t take care of.
       "Are you going to stay in for the night? Or, will I have to wait another sunrise for you to return? Or perhaps even a sun fall?"
       Melancholy. That’s the word. The word that described her soft spoken tone of voice. It killed him worse than those he’d already put to sleep. He’s heard sadness in people’s voice before, this wasn’t a new discovery for him. But hearing it from her was different. Is she usually this upset when he leaves? Is he so oblivious to the signals she gives off to not have noticed the pain he truly brings to her? Was that subtle pain in her eyes there because of him? Why does he care so much for a small ant of a human like this little girl? Though, she isn’t so little anymore, now is she?
       "I’ll stay home for tonight… and most of tomorrow, considering the day. We can head into town, eat like actual people for once."
       An empty promise. Another empty promise; one she was so used to. Her shoulders slumped, her eyes dropping as realization of his lie seeped in. What had she expected? He did this so often it was childish of her to have trusted his words. He mentally cursed to himself. She was, what, 19 now? She was thirteen, not anymore. But, could he perhaps keep this promise, just this once for the one person he deems a best friend?
       "You’ve said that many times before. If you have to go, go. I’m not stopping you, I’ll be waiting right here, you know."
       His eyes traveled to the clock dangling above the doorway leading into the kitchen where pots and pans were being clanked together by another individual who lived within the home; 11:13. Didn’t she say something about the being clock an hour behind?
       "Let’s go now, then."
       Her movements with the washcloth stopped as she lowered it back into the bucket, creating a bigger pool of the crimson color.
       He grabbed the roll of paper towels from the broken and splintering coffee table sitting across from their couch that was littered in bloodied bandages and plates of unknown edible materials, ripping off a piece of the paper rubbing it over his leathery textured face, the white patterned fabric coloring that eye catching, rusty red shade.
       "Remember that promise I made to you when you turned fourteen?"
       That took as a shocker for both parties. He had remembered? But how? That was so long ago, even the memory was fuzzy for her; though she was still able to recall how many years, months, weeks, days of how long they’ve known each other. She had a calendar, so that helped.        
       "You mean… when you promised that if I assisted you, I wouldn’t be harmed?"
       That’s right. Such a long time ago that was, too. He was always three years older than her, just having turned twenty two. He was much taller than her it was nearly intimidating.
       Yeah… Well, I’m changing it. You have to promise to stay with me. No matter what happens to either of us, and I promise to keep you safe from the real world that tried to rip you of your innocence… You’ll never be alone again and I’ll come home more often. You can even accompany me on errands if you don’t mind."
       Never had he seen such hopefulness in her lovely, lake colored eyes before. It was almost enchanting. Her eyes locked onto his similarly colored unblinking ones, unable to break away.
       "A promise you’ll keep this time, right? Not like last time…?"
       He brought his pale, bloody hand down to grip her petite wrist, holding it up in front of their faces. He outstretched his pinky, his grin only widening, if even possible for him.
       "Stay with me?"
       She blinked, an action he couldn’t accomplish. With a short nod, her blood colored hair bouncing against her neck, too short to touch her shoulders. She thinly smiles, something he wasn’t seen her do for… years, now that he thinks about it. The sight of her lips dragging up brought hope into his death filled life, reminding him that there’s still light in his darkened tunnel of a soul. Her pinky wrapped around his, a firm shake to follow, the worn away metal of her scarlet ruby ring pressing up against his skin felt almost satisfying in a way; having their last pinky promise being years ago. That familiar sense of accomplishment washed over the two.
       "Happy birthday. Now, what was that you said about going into town?"
Stay With Me
I only have a warning on it because of the multiple references to blood, and the minor cursing.  

My teacher had assigned us to write a paper based on one sentence and we had ton include that sentence anywhere within the story (this is't the story I wrote for that). After writing the short story, she read it and had told me she'd critique any work I wrote if I ever wanted, so long it was ten pages or less. I showed her this and she gave me her full, honest opinion and my self esteem boosted ten times that day (Grinch reference is obvious). 
So, yeah, what d' ya'll think?
       It was a day like any other. She set foot into the classroom where only so few students resided, as it was still early in the morning, not even the teacher was in attendance, her denim shoulder bag slumped around her neck, the base pulled back behind her and hit the back of her thighs with each bouncing step. She surveyed the room, taking note of the beings that took up space around the desks and tables. A small group of girls, four to be precise, were surrounding one single desk where no one sat. The girl who had just entered was not sure why none of them were using the desk space to sit, though she wasn’t one to question the actions of others. Their chatter was heard as mindless gossip that drowned itself out. Two guys were sitting perched atop two desks, their legs resting mannerlessly on the railing of the seat along with the desk itself. Funny thing was they were whispering about the group of girls, reciting cheesy pickup lines and compliments that would have a lot or trouble wooing the stuck up teenage females. Boy will be boys.
       Her eyes fixated on a teenager, a sophomore like herself, sitting desolate in the back of the room, barely noticeable to anyone else in the room. He looked like any other student that cluttered the, currently empty, halls during the day; his generic, medium chestnut hair, his milky chocolate brown eyes, paled complexion. His beige stripped sweater with a blue hood attached stood out, it being close to summer and the heat waves have already begun, and his gloved hands seemed like a heatstroke waiting to happen. Besides his out of place clothing, he seemed to be a fairly average student just looking to pass his classes with flying colors and move on to junior year.
       But it wasn’t his appearance that interested the girl standing by the doorway, tightly clutching onto the strap of her blue denim shoulder bag with a hand stuffed into her emerald green khaki jeans. It was his somewhat isolated situation that perked her fancy. The school in which she attended was a rather small school, ranging at an average of a little over 600 students, the other public schools in the area have well over 1,000 children in their midst. Everyone knew next to everyone in the school, so seeing someone alone, be it the morning, afternoon, or after school hours, was a sight to see. Everyone had a friend. Well, except for her, that is. Her label as the new kid didn’t bring much attention to the small population of hormone riddled young adults, and socializing wasn’t exactly a natural and willing activity for her and her appearance didn’t help one bit. Her short, somewhat boyish crimson hair stood out in a crowd, no one else in the school having dyed hair; waves of black hair, blond, and brunettes flowed naturally through the school, so her dash of color made her an automatic outcast. Unlike the four girls chattering around the barren desk, her chest was rather small, Mother Nature skipping her puberty card on that one. She often got teased, mostly by perverse jocks and snobby valley girls, from her short hair and small chest, getting called a dyke or a tranny several times a day. She’s trained herself to drown out the comments in her own sea of thoughts, letting them run their mouths all they want as she continues on with her peaceful life.
       The lone boy sitting at a large, clear table in the back had his gaze down at his spastically twitching hand, seeming to be out of his control. With a deep breath, the girl decided to press her luck and took a large step further into the classroom, though keeping her movement suppressed, attempting to keep herself invisible; wishing she wielded invisibility as a genetically induced super power. Maneuvering in between the rows of desks, she managed to surpass the four girls talk, though catching the slight attention of the two other males; proceeding to make hushed comments on her rather large, scarlet baggy sweatshirt that hung off both her shoulders, two purple straps visible from the tank top she wore underneath the garment. Like the boy she was currently walking to, her outfit seemed out of lace with the upcoming summer season. Her sweatshirt only defined the smallness of her chest, this being the new topic between the two guys. Though, their gossip was cut short and quickly reverted back to the four other females.
       Her Nike sneakers squeaked against the freshly waxed floors as she stopped beside the table the brunette sat at. Biting the inside of her bottom lip, she slung her shoulder bag onto the table beside him, helping herself to the empty seat next to him. His head lifted to see who had entered his bubble, raising an eyebrow at the unfamiliar girl sitting next to him, locking eyes with her as she returned the awkward gaze.
       “A-am… I, I, I in your s-seat?” he stuttered involuntarily, the girl assuming he maybe had some sort of speech impediment, or even Tourette’s  due to the occasional twitch in his hands or neck. He began to reach for his green and blue stripped backpack underneath the table, ready to leave.
       She put up a hand to stop him, shaking her head, motioning her hand for him to cease his movements. Her nonverbal protest confused the boy. Why wasn’t she talking?
       “Um... c-can you t-talk?” he asked, retreating his hand and resting it on top of the table, his finger nails clawing through the material of the gloves he wore.
       She girl nodded, unzipping her bag and pulling out a flower patterned white dry erase board with a red Expo marker, uncapping the marker with a pop and jotting down words onto the board, holding it up for the boy to see once she was done.
       Yes, I can. Name?
       Her hand writing was neat and her lines were close to straight, he noticed, though the movements of her hands were so quick and graceful it looked like she was scribbling something down at first, only resulting in next to perfect hand writing.
       “My, my name’s T-Toby. Toby Rogers,” Toby answered. “What’s y-y-your name?”
       Looking around, she snatched a box of tissues from the backend table behind them, pulling out a piece of the white fabric and erasing her previous writing, jotting down more neatly written letters.
       Elliot. Elliot Amsel. Call me Elle. Nice to meet you, Sir Rogers. She gave a short bow from her seat as he read the last bit.
       Toby cracked a smile at the ‘Sir Rogers’, an action he hadn’t done in front of another being before. “A-Amsel? Strange name. N-No offense inten-intended!” he quickly retaliated his words, mentally hitting himself, hoping he didn’t screw up his chances with this person as a friend, having it been a while since his last civil interaction with another person.
       Elliot giggled, shaking her head as she wrote something new on the board.
       None taken. It’s German, means ‘a blackbird’. Rogers is an English name.
       Toby tilted his head. “How-how’d, how’d you know tha-that?”
       She simply shrugged, tapping her head as if to say, “smart”. Erasing the board she wrote once more.
       Are you waiting for someone? You’re alone. She pointed out the obvious.
       Toby sighed, shaking his head at the same time his neck twitched and cracked. “N-No one just by my se-self. People don’t like to t-talk to the weird ki-kid,” he answered, his voice dropping to a solemn tone.
       Elliot frowned, jotting down her words.
You’re not weird, you’re nice (so far). I’m alone too. “People don’t like to talk to the weird kids”. She quoted Toby’s words with a shrug, adding an extra part to her sentence. Maybe they’re the weird ones. Wanna be alone together? I’m fairly new here and could use a tour guide.
       Toby’s smile only grew as he nodded his head enthusiastically. “S-sure!” he exclaimed, though no one else in the room seemed to have noticed nor cared. “After first b-block we can go and walk around f-for break t-time,” he spat out his stuttered words, regretting his unintentional speech impediment at that moment.
       Elliot’s worries were debunked by his friendly yet timid nature, her heart at ease as she realized she just made her first friend, an achievement she’ll cherish.
       Sounds like a plan! She drew on a happy face on the board, the emoji matching her current expression.
       While Elliot was calm and peacefully content with the outcome of her decision to daringly approach she lone boy, Toby was absolutely ecstatic yet at the same time wary. Elliot was a total stranger to him, and trust takes some time to build. He’s seen her around the school multiple times. Though, how could he not when her hair color was like a red apple in a barrel of green ones? She stood out, so he figured this meant she’d get attention and ultimately become popular amongst the ‘cool’ crowd, a clique he was not acquainted with. He peered into Elliot’s glazed over green eyes, as if staring into the window of her very being. He tried to read her. He couldn’t. It was like an kindergartener trying to read a twenty chapter, professionally written novel Tried to figure out what her game was. Was she just asking fake to him to later hurt him? Was she doing this out of pity because he was sitting alone? Then again, if his memory proved him right he’d never seen Elle talk to anyone else in the school. Or, write to them, for that matter. She’s never interacted fully with another person, which befuddled him. She’s obviously not unattractive, her personality seems slightly outgoing yet trustworthy, and only though she had only attended the school for a week, her grades are perfect; never missing an assignment and getting perfect scores on each one. Why was Elliot Amsel, one of the most unique girls in the school, talking to twitchy, stuttering Toby Rogers?
       Elliot pulled up her sleeve enough to check the red leather watch strapped onto her frail wrist. Taking note of the half an hour they have left to kill, she outstretched her wrist to show Toby the time while writing on her board with her non-dominate hand.
       We have time. Explore now? The writing wasn’t as neat as before, her lines wavy and off, her left hand not being the normal hand she uses for writing. Her question mark looked like a backwards C, the dot on the bottom smudged, each letter ending with a slightly squiggle leading off to the next character in a sloppy way.
       Toby nodded, giving her a thumbs up, both parties smiling and beginning to gather up their stuff. Elliot closed her bag, pushing her chair back as she stood up, propping the strap of the bag on her shoulder. Toby yanked his backpack out from under the table where he had previously left it, putting his arms through both straps and adjusting the weight comfortably, standing up in suit with Elliot. Elliot kept her white board tucked under her arm, the marker placed inside her back pocket. Pushing in both of their chairs, Toby took Elliot’s hand, leading her through the desks, away from the female group of four and the two males, out of the open classroom door and outside.
       The school was fairly small; absent of any indoor hallways. Instead, there was a large courtyard area with a small bricked off area that held multiple species of plant-life next to the cluttered cafeteria where the culinary students cook breakfast and lunch. There were three main buildings; one was the building Elliot and Toby had just exited, the freshman and sophomore building. Different classrooms held the different grades behind multiple blue doors. The library, guidance office, and main office were located in that exact building, though blending is as another plain classroom; children tend to overlook if not observing the plaques above and beside the doors. The second building was the junior and senior building. These classrooms consisted of the different technical programs one could attend once they reach junior year. You graduate with a scholarship and can go straight into an official career thanks to this wonderful schooling option. The last building was the gym located down the street of the junior and senior building, where HOPE class took place. The teacher had her own personal gym that was free to use by any student that attended the school up until three in the afternoon after school hours. The hours of their school went from seven in the morning to 1:45.
       “Do, do you know w-where the li-library is-is?” Toby stuttered, forgetting his hand was still intertwined with Elliot’s as he turned to face her, beginning to walk around the corner where the library was.
       Elliot shook her head, happily following Toby towards the place that’ll most likely become her new home away from home. Reading was almost an obsession with her, having read almost the entire plethora of books in her old middle school before she graduated eight grade. She would’ve finished too, had she not have moved.
       “Well, it-it’s over here. It loo-looks like a n-normal classr-room, so people ha-have a hard tim f-finding i-it,” he explained as they approached the blue door that was propped open by the leg of a navy blue desk chair.
       “Shall we g-g-go in?” Toby asked.
       With an approving nod, Elliot reached her free hand out to grasp the cold, angles metal handle of the door, pulling it open all the way and stepping in with her new friend by her side, breathing in the satisfying smell of paper and slightly burning of electrical equipment in use.
(The Not-So-Dastardly Duo)Chapter 1: Misfits Alike
The first chapter to a story I'm working on. It includes one of my personal favorite Creepypasta's, Ticci Toby. I already have Jeff the Killer ones written, though I might not post those, and thought I'd write one for Toby (considering he's my second favorite) Description of The Not-So-Dastardly Duo below v

Elliot's unusual hair color, small chest, and nonverbal speech pins her as an automatic outcast fit for ridicule and isolation from the other students in Northbridge Technical Center. Only having been in the school for barely over a week, she daringly communicates with another person for the first time since her arrival, a teenage boy named Toby Rogers. Though her friendship with the stuttering and twitching boy leads to trouble for the unsuspecting Elliot Amsel who begins to realize Toby might not be as innocent and timid as he seems. Meeting other oddball characters within the school and around her desolate house on the outskirts of town, Elliot needs to find the voice to scream for help whe the situation calls for it.

Does it sound okay? It's a Creepypasta based story if you haven't realized and will include more Creepypastas in the future (though Toby is the main Pasta in this story and no, it's not a romance. Just a blossoming friendship is all)

Ticci Toby does not, in any way, belong to me. Though, Elliot does


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I'm Abby! :3
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I'm almost positive no one on here remembers be, lol. Welp, I recently (about a month or three ago) got really into writing and it's become a relentless passion of mine and I've improved a lot. I'll start coming on here more often considering I could use critics on my works. Well, to anyone reading this, hola! 

I'll start coming on here more in hopes to making a name of myself.  :)

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