I like to write things with gore but also dystopian things like powers and stuff. I dabble in poetry.
Elf on The Shelf Pt. 1
There used to be an old horror story about an old man that once lived in an old, single-story house. If you lit a candle — even if you bought it from the 99 cent store — he would appear, thinking it was his wife. Apparently, she loved candles; she loved them so much she would sit at the dining table and watch the flicker of the fire until the wick burned out. Two weeks before Christmas the old man — Phil, we’ll call him — decided to have a little fun. He bought the “new and improved” Elf on the Shelf that had two camera lenses in his eyes. He figured he would make a film of all the times it would scare her, and if she talked to it at all, then he'd give it to her for Christmas.
The First Few Chapters
Before we begin, I’d like to say that names have been changed for the sake of their privacy. As a little girl, I was thriving. You would often see me running around the elementary school campus, squealing with delight, as my friends and I played tag, talked about the boys of our school, and the most recent High School Musical. Back then I let myself live. Didn’t we all? We were so unaware of what was coming. We were pure and certain of our futures.