The black darkened to a colour that couldn’t seem possible. I was straining to see at the far end, trying to capture an image that I couldn’t focus on. A blonde light weaved itself, getting closer and brighter. Rusty noises started to reverberate and echo around the room I appeared to be in, which I thought, imagined, I was in.

As the light started to end its journey across the walls of the cold room, scripts were written on the concrete. Toning of colour showed upon the writing, and I saw in the reflection of my pupil, that it was written in blood. It dripped. It was still wet.

A papery whisper started to concur in my lobes. Then a screeching commenced onwards, overtaking the weak efforts of the so heard noise. The screeching appeared to be a baby’s cry, a baby in which had no life, and was legally murdered before sense had even been imported inside it. I tried to stand up, but with hard, full efforts, I was struck back down. As if a force, a godly force, pushed me down and wanted to feed on me, keep me in this room with cries and rusty noises.

I opened my eyes. All I saw was the ceiling in front of me, so I sat up, trying to shake off the memories of what had just happened. It must have been a nightmare. It seemed so real. I scanned my shaky hands, and saw that blood covered my finger tips like an artwork from Picasso.

I stepped on a warm solid, as I trotted my foot out of the bed. It gave me a static flashback of my dream five minutes before. I looked down to check what I had discovered with my foot, and staring back at me, I saw my brother. Saliva had crawled out of his mouth, and red liquid had oozed out of his eye lids and his nose. He was dead. Still.

I ran out of my room with full pelt, but halted at an instant traffic hold up. A rag doll hung by a rope from the ceiling lamp hook, the dolls eyes were bulged, and its neck, so red and sore. Its white hands were boney and seemed to want to stretch out and grab me. Its lips pale and its wedding ring shone like it had just been spit polished. The ring. I noticed it. I know who it is; that wasn’t a rag doll prank by my insane father. That was my mum.

-- How shall it continue? --

At 3/6/05 03:25 PM, -WhiteFang- wrote:

Then a screeching commenced onwards, overtaking the weak efforts of the so heard noise.

rewrite this sentence for a start. It drags on so it needs to be broken up and bits of it don't make sense to me personally.

and saw that blood covered my finger tips like an artwork from Picasso.

I like that sentence there its a nice little wotsit.......dammit forgotten the word. metaphor?

-- How shall it continue? --

have the rest of the family murdered...........have the dad being the one that does the killings............bah i dunno. liek i said horror isn't my strong point. I could do the descriptions for it but the actualy story line for a horror story eludes me.

The black darkened to a colour that couldn’t seem possible. I was straining to see at the far end, trying to capture an image that I couldn’t focus on. A blonde light weaved itself, getting closer and brighter. Rusty noises started to reverberate and echo around the room I appeared to be in, which I thought, imagined, I was in.

As the light started to end its journey across the walls of the cold room, scripts were written on the concrete. Toning of colour showed upon the writing, and I saw in the reflection of my pupil, that it was written in blood. It dripped. It was still wet.

A papery whisper started to concur in my lobes. A screeching commenced fourth, overtaking the weak effort.. The screeching appeared to be a baby’s cry, a baby in which had no life, and was legally murdered before sense had even been imported inside it. I tried to stand up, but with hard, full efforts, I was struck back down. As if a force, a godly force, pushed me down and wanted to feed on me, keep me in this room with cries and rusty noises.

I opened my eyes. All I saw was the ceiling in front of me, so I sat up, trying to shake off the memories of what had just happened. It must have been a nightmare. It seemed so real. I scanned my shaky hands, and saw that blood covered my finger tips like an artwork from Picasso.

I stepped on a warm solid, as I trotted my foot out of the bed. It gave me a static flashback of my dream five minutes before. I looked down to check what I had discovered with my foot, and staring back at me, I saw my brother. Saliva had crawled out of his mouth, and red liquid had oozed out of his eye lids and his nose. He was dead. Still.

I ran out of my room with full pelt, but halted at an instant traffic hold up. A rag doll hung by a rope from the ceiling lamp hook, the dolls eyes were bulged, and its neck, so red and sore. Its white hands were boney and seemed to want to stretch out and grab me. Its lips pale and its wedding ring shone like it had just been spit polished. The ring. I noticed it. I know who it is; that wasn’t a rag doll prank by my insane father. That was my mum.

I ran, leaking tears from my aching eyes. I took a swift turn into the kitchen, which was only cleaned yesterday. But it looked different. I looked behind me. Nothing. I turned straight again, slipped up and fell with fault from a puddle of blood. I opened my eyes, which had been closed shut with gagging pain, I found myself gazing into two cold eyes that were staring back at me. As the dead body that lay beside me breathed his last torturous breath, he tried to grab me by the neck, but failed and fell to a slumbered death.

My brother lay dead but still warm in my bedroom. My mother hangs on the upstairs hallway, and I just witnessed my dad final action. I flip the light switch, but they don’t turn on. I dial emergency hotline, but the phone wire was cut, the noise of disconnection looped in my head, splitting my mind to a piece of abandoned card. I hear a knock on the window. I faintly turn my eyes, and see a very dark figure hiding behind the curtain.

-- The father isn't the killer. Who is? Help me out here, this could be interesting.....--

At 3/6/05 03:43 PM, -WhiteFang- wrote: -- The father isn't the killer. Who is? Help me out here, this could be interesting.....--

The dog did it?

At 3/6/05 03:44 PM, -Manic- wrote:

At 3/6/05 03:43 PM, -WhiteFang- wrote: -- The father isn't the killer. Who is? Help me out here, this could be interesting.....--

The dog did it?

I fucking hate sarcasm. I came here for help goddamit.

At 3/6/05 03:45 PM, -WhiteFang- wrote: I fucking hate sarcasm. I came here for help goddamit.

sorry dude but im really have no idea where to take that story. If I could help I would but im shit with horror stories. Any other genre and I'd be able to help but you chose the one genre I suck at writing in. The only thign i can seriously suggest is to make the murderer someone you wouldn't expect like the little brother who is 5 years old but has gone crazy for some reason.

At 3/6/05 02:04 PM, -Manic- wrote: ha ha :P Well first thing we need to decide is what genre its gonna be in.

Tch. Duh.

Fantasy,sci fi, Modern and superhero, feudal japan and wild west are the oens Im thinking of.

No more sci fi. Modern is hard. Superhero = teh gay. Fuedal Japan = on to something. Wild west = nah

I'd like a wild west one with a twist....if you;ve ever heard of a Rpg called deadlands I want it like that with a kind of ghost and zombie and magic feel to it.

Hm.. Don't know.

I vote for either fantasy or feudal Japan.

At 3/4/05 05:02 AM, -Manic- wrote: shit sorry man! Didn't mean to cause any offence by it. It was just a joke. If I knew I was gonna piss you off by doing it I wouldn't have done it. Sory again.

its cool, I overreacted. I just don't like it when stuff like that happens, cause it happens to me all the time in school, just kinda gets to me.

I just finished writing a song for my band...opinions and shit would be appreciated :)

Gooodnight & Goodbye

Before the last thing I say
I just wanted you to know
That I'm never comin home
Never goin home
Again

For all the times that I wanted to forget you
For all the nights that I sat right there beside you
And all the years that I never let you go
Tonight...
I'll say goodbye..

Remember the days
When we layed out in the park
On our own we had it all
You and me together
We were so happy
And we threw it all away

For all the times that I wanted to forget you
For all the nights that I sat right there beside you
And all the years that I never let you go
Tonight...
I'll say goodbye..

The night we met I just wanted to hold on to
All the feelings that I've felt inside about you
Why can't I tell you how I just want to be with you
I guess I'll never know what we could have had

For all the times that I wanted to forget you
For all the nights that I sat right there beside you
And all the years that I never let you go
Tonight...
I'll say goodbye..

Goodbye
I'll see you again someday
We'll be right next to each other
Just like the days before all this shit happened
I just want you to know...

For all the times that I wanted to forget you
For all the nights that I sat right there beside you
And all the years that I never let you go
Tonight...
I'll say goodbye..

Goodbye...
See you again someday
Goodbye...
----------

When I write this, it really makes me wonder why I'm so happy all the time, when this is what comes out of my pencil..

At 3/7/05 02:47 AM, MrTheJazz wrote: Hey, I'd hate to interrupt your story/poem time, but do you mind if I join your Writer's Guild club?

Story/poem time? You make us sound like dickheads.

At 3/6/05 03:43 PM, -WhiteFang- wrote: The black darkened to a colour that couldn’t seem possible.

This is coming along nicely, WhiteFang keep it up. I'll post my inspiration as and when it finally arrives...

At 3/7/05 02:47 AM, MrTheJazz wrote: Hey, I'd hate to interrupt your story/poem time, but do you mind if I join your Writer's Guild club? I'm sure you guys have your own little rules set up for the forum, but I didn't feel like reading some 70 pages to get caught up.

Story/poem time? You make us sound almost infantile, only rules so to speka are be courteous and don't flame needlessly and when reviewing review helpfully. don't just say the piece sucke dor whatver if you didn't like it.

Anyway, it's mostly going to consist of lurking, but I may post something once in a while. Is that cool? Hopefully you guys won't be fooled by my lollipop and trust I know how to write.

Welcome aboard :-)

At 3/7/05 05:48 AM, Coop83 wrote:

At 3/6/05 03:43 PM, -WhiteFang- wrote: The black darkened to a colour that couldn’t seem possible.

This is coming along nicely, WhiteFang keep it up. I'll post my inspiration as and when it finally arrives...

I'll keep trying.

here is mine...

A carpet of mist covered the ground the angel shaped grave stones seam to follow you with there eyes were ever you walked. I could feel someone’s or something's cold breath on the back of my neck my body froze still.

“Who... Who is it?” I asked sounding brave.

“Grrr” it roared.

At first I thought it was a dog but it was too big to be a dog, if it could reach my ears with its jaw. Finally I built up enough the courage to turn around and confront it. It was a wolf! I started to wish I hadn’t turned around; it was baring its gums at me, foaming at the mouth dribbling on to my shoes. I wasn’t sure if I should shout for help as that might make it attack, but also it could frighten it and make it go away, or I could do nothing and it might loose interest in me. It could attack me and mutilate my body easily. What ever I was to do. I stared in to its eyes they were a blood red. It growled once more and pounced. I closed my eyes and hoped it would kill me quickly. I was waiting but nothing happened, I opened one eye it was gone. I looked behind me and I saw the wolf staring at me with its tail between its legs, but then I realised it wasn’t staring at me.

“Hahaha” said a voice from behind me.

This time I wasn’t scared I fought someone had come to help so I turned around. “Thank you so much” I said to him

“For what?” he smiled. As he smiled I noticed to sharp fangs in his mouth, my smile dropped and as it did, he laughed.

“I am not here to save you I am here to kill you Hahaha…!” he opened his mouth and lunged for me.

I closed my eyes in fright when all of a sudden the wolf pounced and bit the vampire’s neck I was to scared to move. When I looked down but all the was left of the vampire was a bloody carcass the wolf was staring at me wagging its tail with blood and meat round its mouth, I slowly walk to it I put my hand out to see if it would try to bight me it and it opened its mouth I went to pull it back but it started to lick me. I could not believe it, it started stiffing the air and then it ran into the darkness of the night.

I started to walk to the chapel in the cemetery to finish of the job. I pulled out my stake swinging it round my fingers. As I approached the doors. I got my cross out and kneeled down and prayed to god.
“Farther if I don’t make it out alive send my spirit to the right place are men”.

* * * * * * *

I approached the window and peered in it was too dark to see but all I could hear were screams of pain everyone can define a scream to a roar of pain this was a roar of pain
It was bad enough to send a shiver up your spine.

I hid in a bush and through brick through the window the screams stopped then all I could hear was heavy footsteps and scrape of chains on the stone floor like in a ghost movies, then I could hear lots of locks being lifted.

Then a tall man came into light and looked around I closed my eyes a jumped out of the bush swinging my stake over my head and down the vampires throat it fell to the ground so I rammed the stake into its heart and black blood squirted in to my face I smiled and put my cross on his wound and his body turned into ashes and all that was left was a skeleton and my cross I picked up my cross and made my way into the dark room I lit a candle and I saw a coffin with a priest nailed into the coffin the was blood nearly covering his nose in the coffin, I checked his pulse he was still alive somehow then I saw two bite marks in his neck and wrists so I rammed my stake ones more and prayed for forgiveness for killing a holy man.

I was at the front door again when caught a glimpse of someone or something in the corner of a room its eyes were glowing red I got out my knife and got prepared for my attacker it walk forward into the moon light and I saw it was the wolf my saviour but he wasn’t alone he had a Vancar, a Vancar is a spawn of its owner but it was spawned for two reasons serve his master and kill!

The wolf was looking at me the Vampisnere was smiling, the wolf started to growl not at the Vampisnere but me that could only mean one thing he bit the wolf! The wolf was now a hell hound! I no that I can not beat both of them my self but I had hope I crouched down and picked up some broken glass I smashed with the brick earlier and I threw is in to the Vancar leg he roared with pain I threw a bottle of holy water in the Vancar face again he roared with pain the wolf was still staring at me, I went to stroke it this time he nearly bit my hand off so I got another piece of glass and out my hand out again and when it went to bight me I let go of the glass and the wolf bit the glass and it penetrated his top jaw he yelped with pain then I leaped forward and stuck my knife in its side again it yelped of pain I tuck my knife out and left

* * * * *

The wolf was looking at me the Vampisnere was smiling, the wolf started to growl not at the Vampisnere but me that could only mean one thing he bit the wolf! The wolf was

sorry were it ses vampisnere i changed the name of the spawny think and forgot to changhe that

OMG! Can I join this awesome guild? That would be so neato!

Simplicity
When all things good
have gone away
who are we
to make them stay
we need to simplify our lives...

Damn time and space
and money too
If you cannot hold it
it's not true
Try and simplify your lives...

Our satellites
and friday fights
fastened food
and overnights
are cataracts that cloud
our minds...

The one night stands
and flash pan bands
and lingerie
can't help us man
Let it go and help
me find...

We need to simplify our lives...

Too bad that hardly anyone from the WOR is on NG anymore. I might try to recruit more people.

I have to read 35 pages tonight for English... geez!

Well i wrote this on the way to school this morning, can't say who it is about, but someone was in mind. Here it is:

When Asked of Who You Are
Free Verse
By, K. Myst Williams

You look at me;
I look at you.
A smile so infectious;
I soon smile too.
Deep down inside;
Emotions arise;
My furthest desire
Burns deep in me -
My inner fire
Burns deep in me.

You approach me;
I approach you.
You ask with a pause,
‘What is it you think of me too?’
My heart flutters hard;
My emotions rising high;
My body drowned in heat;
I look into your eyes -
With yet the words to speak
I look into your eyes.

I then finally speak,
‘A jury of men, both bachelor and non,
Sat patiently upon their stand,
And then with a call
You approached them,
And stood before in silent demand.
When asked to ponder a verdict -
When asked,
“What is it you think of the external her?”
They would claim, quite simply, “Beautiful.”’

I continue to speak,
‘If that jury had the honor,
And the pleasure to have the chance,
To get to know of whom you are –
In fact, if they were so lucky
To spend hours of their time with you,
And then were asked to ponder a verdict –
When asked,
“What is it you think of the internal her?”
They would claim, quite simple, “Beautiful.”’

I continue to speak once more,
‘And if that jury,
After knowing you both in and out,
And with my jealous pain now settled,
Were asked to ponder once more,
And were asked,
“For whom she is –
Her being as a whole –
And her entire existence,
What is it you think of her?”’

I pause and look upon you;
A gentle calm within my eyes;
We look into each other,
And with a breath I start again,
‘They would claim, quite simply, “Perfect.”’
And perfect is who you are,
And perfect is who I see,
And perfect is what is claimed,
And perfect you’ll forever be.
I wish I was so lucky to hold perfection in my arms…
… when asked of who you are.

At 3/7/05 05:56 PM, Myst_Williams wrote: I have to read 35 pages tonight for English... geez!

That blows major donkey balls.

When Asked of Who You Are

I loved that poem. True beauty. I wanted to put it as an AIM away message, but it was too big.

But anyways, Myst, you still rock hardcore socks!

At 3/7/05 07:59 PM, WithoutCease wrote: That blows major donkey balls.

Well it is not quite that disgusting, but i the metaphor was very... distasteful... [/pun] ^_^

I loved that poem. True beauty. I wanted to put it as an AIM away message, but it was too big.

lol! Thanks.

But anyways, Myst, you still rock hardcore socks!

Merci Beaucoup. I am glad you like it. I have being trying a lot of new approaches lately. Experimening and trying to widen my horizons as a poet.

So what is new with your one minute wonders?

At 3/7/05 08:07 PM, Myst_Williams wrote: So what is new with your one minute wonders?

OMG THE INSPIRATION!

Alone in the dark
One minute wonder
-The story of my life is, well, bleak. Everything I have has been a hand me down for generations. Musty clothes, rusty utensils. I struggled through school and barely managed to pass. Working in a practically infected fast food shop, I wanted to expand my horizons and escape from my slipshod, dusty life. There was something waiting out there for me.
-All ready to set off, I went to go bid my dear mother farewell. When I arrived at her house she wasn't on her bed like always, being as sick as she is. I made my way through the unkept house into the kitchen. No notes. No anything. She seemed to disappear into thin air. The candle in my hand was the only light source available, with no moon outside to shed light.
-The wind blew.
-The candles flame gave way with no retalliation, and suddenly darkness overcame me. A sound started coming from the sink.
-Drip. Drop. Drip. Drop.
-That sound wasn't there before.
-Footsteps now. They were getting closer. My heart was beating out of my chest.
-Click. Click. Click.
-The clicks were growing into claps, and they were getting closer. I turned to where the sound was coming from, a long hall, and i focused on the light and saw a large figure. The sound stopped. I thought that I was just seeing something, but I was soon proven wrong. All of the broken lights in the house were flickering on and off, and after looking around, puzzled, I saw the intruder. The only thing is, he wasn't an intruder.
-I was dead before I knew it.
-Don't believe in the Boogeyman, you say? Well, it's strange enough. The non believers are the ones who fight harder for their lives than anyone else. I saw it. I was killed by the Boogeyman, and unrelentless and unwilling to give up as I was, I agreed to become a part of him, so my blood would not be tinctured by Hell's flames. Little did I know, I was tinctured all along.
-I now laugh at others pure fear, and I can't stop taking people to add to my little "collection," if you will. The fear lives on through everyone's pain. The story will never end.
-Everyone is alone in the dark.

Thanks for reminding me about those, too, Myst.
And this was my first attempt at a horror story. I think it's mediocre, and tell me what I could do to improve.

Making this for my friend over AIM, but it seems more easy to write here. And besides, I want you to judge my fluff quality.

Unrelenting Love
Resident Evil 4 One minute wonder

-It was all seeping in. Everything that happened on the island seemed like a lifetime's worth, though Leon was only there for a couple of hours. The fights drained him of all the energy he had left. He thought about what happened afterword, when Leon broke Ashley's heart by rejecting her, then flirting with his mission tec.
-Lying down in the back of the evac. chopper, Leon began to think.
-What happened today? What was I doing when I was talking to Ashley on the Jet Ski? Do I really not like her? Do I really like Hunnigan? I need to decide now, 'cause Ashley might leave me forever. But then again, do I even care? Leon thought about the woman who had changed his life forever, Ada Wong. "Damn you," he whispered.
-What was going through Ashley's head was a wave of sorrow.
-Oh, Leon. I knew you'd reject me, but I wanna stay with you forever. I wish you felt the same way. She looked at him, now sitting up on his bunk and looking at the bottom of the craft. He risked his life to save me. Mission or not he's my savior. He made me happy and taught me how to loosen up in even the worst of times. I need him. I wish he needs me, too.
------------------------------------------------
-The chopper was over a large, beautifully kept, grass field. It was descending slowly, and the captain said through his walkie-talkie. "Sir. The subject has arrived. Please report to the southeast field for pickup." Ashley got up, fighting back the tears in her eyes. She looked at Leon for one last time. "Well, I guess this is goodbye," she said, "Yeah," Leon said, "Don't worry. You act like I'll forget you." Ashley looked down slightly, biting her lip, and then said, "Actually, I was. I never want you to forget about me." Leon was looking down at her, puzzled. Ashley looked up into his eyes. "Leon. I love you. You saved my life back there. You showed me how to be strong and happy in times when I needed it most. You showed me a whole new world of feelings that I can't even comprehend." She embraced him tightly.
-Leon was at a loss for words. He held to the smaller girl tighter than he ever did. The moment seemed to last forever, or at least until the pilot broke in. "Ms. Graham," he said over the intercom, "Welcome home." Ashley released Leon and started silently crying. "Goodbye, Leon. I love you," the words were coming out as if she were soon to die. "Goodbye Ashley.. I'll miss you..." Leon said. He couldn't think of anything else. His mind was flooded with intense emotions.
-The choppers blades started picking up again as Leon was once again deep in thought.
-What am I doing here, letting myself be tossed away from her!? I love her! I can't believe I didn't feel this before! She's perfect for me! Why did I think that Ada and I could happen, or even Hunnagan and myself! How much of a fool was I not to see what I had with her.
-The chopper was now nearing 100 feet. The pilot said to Leon, "Where would you like to go now? If you wanna go to some place like New York or L.A., sorry but this chopper won't fly that far." Leon contemplated what to say to the man. "Get me down. Right here, right now." The pilot seemed amused. "No can do, cowboy. You have no permission to be on the grounds now. You'll get your medal and cookie some other time." Douche. Leon thought as he grabbed an emergency pack. He opened the door of the chopper and jumped out, pulling the string as he neared the ground.
-Up on the roof of the white house, the snipers spotted the skydiving man. "Code Red," one said, "We have a skydiverin the southeast field. What are your orders, Captain?" Commands were barked out from the device and the snipers armed their guns.
-Leon knew it was going to come. He could pick out the snipers with his naked eye. He pulled out his knife and cut at the lines, falling ten feet to the ground below him. He had to move fast. Gunshots rang out from the roof, and Leon immediately jumped, rolling forward when hitting the ground to keep himself moving at a constant speed.
-In the White House, Ashley overheard her father talking about the sky diver. She was so overtaken by Leon's need to come back, or at least that's what she thought his need was. "DADDY!" she yelled, "THAT'S THE MAN WHO SAVED MY LIFE THAT YOUR MEN ARE SHOOTING AT!" The President immediately picked up the phone and yelled, "Tell the snipers to stop shooting! I'm letting him on the premises!"
-Leon almost died from the last bullet. If it weren't for a sudden movement left, he would have gotten a bullet through his heart instead of grazing his arms. The gunshots stopped. "Oh c'mon," Leon said, "Outta ammo already?" He looked towards the building, and saw Ashley run out of it. He ran to meet her, and he took her in his arms tightly. He lifted her up and spun her in the air. He was smiling like a mad man, and Ashley had an ear to ear, toothy smile. He let her down and started stroking her hair. "I'm sorry about before. I don't know wha ca-" Leon started. "I don't care. As long as you're here. I don't need to know anything else," Ashley interupted.
-Leon pulled her in and locked lips with her. It was the most meaningful and passionate kiss he had ever experienced. Her lips parted and he took agression, slipping his tongue in. They stood there for what seemed like hours, until they finally pried their lips from each other and looked at each other in pure bliss.
-"I see a good life for us from now on."

Well, there it is. If you want me to continue, by all means tell me, and I'll keep going.

damm!!!!! I forgot again I'll most my story tommorow

Hey guys I am starting to write a novel, It is set in a nightclub and involves a hostage situation, I won't tell you guys the story yet as i am still writing the first chapter, I just wan't to guage for intrest

At 3/7/05 02:33 PM, -WhiteFang- wrote: I'll keep trying.

Good to hear it. btw, did you look back around page 20 and check out my story? I'd be glad of the feedback, as it may help me jump-start chapter 3, which has precisely 0 words so far.

At 3/8/05 03:46 AM, Parralax wrote: Hey guys I am starting to write a novel, It is set in a nightclub and involves a hostage situation, I won't tell you guys the story yet as i am still writing the first chapter, I just wan't to guage for intrest

Guaging for interest involves you having to give out some of the details si we know if we will be interested. Saying that it's set in a nigthclub and is based around a hostage situation doesn't say much. Is it something to do with the mafia? Street gangs? Or maybe its the yakuza? If you want us to tell you what we think of the idea we need some more info.

I've been told to be quite good at creative writing. Can I join or do I have to do something or what?

At 3/8/05 11:49 AM, Ruglia wrote: I've been told to be quite good at creative writing. Can I join or do I have to do something or what?

If youhave somethign handy you cna post soemthing so we know how good you are or not. If you want you can skip back a few pages and review some things that have been posted aswell

can i join the writters guild

At 3/8/05 03:03 PM, VOTE_4_PEDRO_KIA wrote: can i join the writters guild

Welcome aboard, Tony.
Now you can submit that poem you wrote in school.

(To everyone else, I know him from school)