"Unhhhh..."

Oh, man, what did she eat last night? Oh, yeah, the bar served that yellow rice stuff. Kinda spicy. Gives rise to stomach aches. Claire groans again in her sleep, arms clutching tighter to her pillow. Her soft, smooth warmish pillow. With a pulse.

Claire opens her eyes in shock, staring at the blue (BLUE?) skin in front of her. ( Read more... )

Everything had been going so well. The game, the party, the boy...then...Nothing.

Dear Diary. I think I'm dead.

Dear DiaryClaire would have written, if she had a diary. Well, she has a couple actually. The one she keeps under her pillow, for her brother and father to find, is well, too easily accesible. And her Myspace page is just, way too open. Especially with all the weirdos who have been replying to it recently. So, she writes it up in her head, in diary ( Read more... )