Paper sculptures come to life in this short story. It's not full of action, but not at all boring if you have a good imagination. Reviews welcome.

Listen to my words and think them over; you don't have it the worst, you can still smile. You will laugh, love and live for a very long while. There are others not so lucky and still they hurt. But people don't care, they just treat them like dirt. They may live in my thoughts and exist in my head but I still want them to have a voice, to be heard before they're dead.

Jack King is confronted as he works by Joseph Walker, and is forced to make a decision that will alter his life. Review!

A boy mourns the loss of his grandmother while holding close a necklace she gave him years ago. Review!

Konrad Shillings was heir to the Shilling's fortune, attracting the attentions of a gypsy by the name of Sara Huges. In the traditional world of Victorian London disapproval is to be expected for young Julia Shillings who is said to be the unholy offspring of the devil for her father was already dead for a year when she was conceived. Do you think she can uncover the truth?

This is for everyone that has ever hurt. For every person that has ever shed a tear. You don't want to hear the 'It Gets Better' speech and you won't hear it, I just want you to take a few moments to listen to what I've got to say. It won't take long, I promise.

It was published under a different title—that really put me off, but hey, whatever. I wrote this in retrospect of an incident that took place. I screwed the one person closest to me, but I didn't think he'd understand what I said. When he went into a day-long depression, I became miserable and decided to never scold him so terribly. This is something that came out during that time.

This is my most famous article yet—it's got the highest amount of publicity. I used to have a best friend whom I was super-close to, but sometime during tenth grade, she started drifting away from me, and before I knew it, we were on different astral planes in every way except the literal sense. And things finally boiled down to this, and...read, and let me know if you can relate.

This is a poem about how kids are told to dream big, but then our big dreams are promptly stomped on and they tell us to be realistic. I won't stay in the sick slimy slums of life. No matter the pain, no matter the strife.

Why must you always drag me down? You never make me smile, only frown. Review!

What happens when you get a phonecall which isn't meant for you? You...become rich? An english assignment where I had to write a story beginning with "An alien ship landed in the clearing..." or with the ending "I wish I'd never spoken to that stranger." Guess what I did. (Aliens? So not my thing!) R&R, guys! T 'cause I'm paranoid

You know there is a small part of you, that was everything to you as a child. But as you've grown and faced life in all its fury, that piece of you, the piece that once defined you, now lies somewhere buried within you...

ONESHOT. What's the cut-off gap where a girl is allowed to like someone younger than herself without losing her mind over it? Never mind. Amelia was pretty much doomed from the moment he said hello.