A letter to an Idol

Hey readers of my blog,
I have been thinking for the past couple days of doing this letter to my number one idol, the person who REALLY got me into writing in the first place. I didn't know where to put this letter. I just thought I might write it for myself, but then I remembered I hadn't written on here in a long while. So, I thought I would just put it on my blog here for you all to read if you want. 
A little background information first before I give you the letter. Since I was in seventh grade (I am a Senior in High School now) I have wanted to write. What I want to write is book, screenplay, reviews, and much more of course. Writing is my passion, and I will always love doing it. I have love it ever since I have gotten into the Harry Potter series actually. Joanne Rowling has inspired me, ever since I learned about her struggles, and how successful she became. I know that I might not, but that will not stop me from writing. 
I have other idols like Stephen King and James Cameron, but Jo is my true and real inspiration for what aI want to be. I have decided to write this letter because the era is over. I just want to say thanks for everything that she has created, so here is my letter to her. I hope that you will enjoy, somewhat.


Dear J. K. Rowling,


I don't want to be like all crazy and say I am your number one fan and all that fun stuff. I am sure that you have gotten that before (countless of time too). I just want to simply say thanks Mrs. Rowling. I want to thank you for doing what you love, writing.


I got into the Harry Potter Phenomenon later in my life and in his. I became a fan after the fifth book came out actually, and I became a crazy fan of Harry Potter of course, how couldn't I? That isn't all Harry gave me, it isn't all you gave me Jo. I believe that getting me into Harry Potter, got me into reading books. I love reading books now (not that I have the time). I read Stephen King and James Patterson all the time now. I think this is only because the Harry Potter books gave me a liking for reading books. I want to thank you for that. I do not know what I would do without reading now. Every time I read a book, I get transported into this whole new world. That is how I felt with your Harry Potter books, and I just wanted more and more of that. I thank you Mrs. Rowling SO much.


Writing is another thing I really want to thank you for. I thought for years about what I want to do when I get older, and you just completely inspired me with your life story. How you struggled for so long, and look at you now. Look how successful you are! It inspired me greatly. I started writing one day, and I LOVED it so much. That was almost five years ago from when I first started writing, and I am still in love with it today. I am planning on going to college for screenwriting now, because I also love movies so I would love to write for them (ever since Avatar really). Along the side though I want to write books. I am actually wound up in this one idea I have right now. I want to thank you Mrs. Rowling for helping me find my gift. I love writing, I do not know what I would do without it, it really is great.a


There are so many things to thank you for Mrs. Rowling. I could probably write a whole book on all the things you have helped me over come throughout the years, and still years to come probably. (Maybe one day I will write that book). You really are my inspiration, I would one day love to meet you. I would love to believe it could be true, but I am almost 100% sure that it will never happen. You probably will never end up reading this letter even. I just wanted to say thanks for everything Mrs. Rowling. Thank you for helping me want to read, and want to write just like you. If you hadn't written down that one idea you had gotten on a train all those years ago, who knows what I could be doing now. Thanks for doing what you do best, and that is of course what we both love, writing. 


Thanks again,
Noah Mark Bitney

Working Late

I swear this is going to take me all night. Students just don't understand how much teachers put into work. I will teach them though. I swear this test is gonna kill the ones who never pay attention. What is the chemical formula for sodium chloride? Of course most people would know that it is NaCl, but I know these kids and they won't know what it is if they don't know. I teach Chemistry I, in a high school school. Working late is a part of my life. I stay at the school grading papers and making worksheets. I also get labs ready and such.

It is seven o'clock already tonight. As you probably guessed I am getting a test ready for a tomorrow. What is the atomic mass of Oxygen? I am always the last teacher leaving the high school at night. I am usually out of here by six o'clock, but tonight I had study guides to correct and this cursed test. It is creepy being in a dark empty school into the late hours of the night but I got to do what I got to do. I am as you noticed probably by now a dedicated teacher. I love teaching children, as long as they are willing to learn and not slack off in my class.

BAM! "What was that?" I yelled jumping out of my chair. "Who is there?" It sounded like a door slamming shut as if a teacher had just left for the night. That is impossible though, no other teacher is ever here as late as me. I should go investigate, so I walk around the lab tables in front of my desk leaving the test at question 23: Li stands for what element? 


The hallways are dark, just the emergency lights are on not giving it much light at all. Continuous dull thuds could be heard, like footsteps. No one is here though, and the sound isn't coming from my shoes what is it? The BAM I hear a door slam shut. I scream out, "Who is there?" The footsteps stop, I stop. "Hello?" No response of any kind. A corner was up ahead.

I walk super slowly so no noise will be made as I walk to the edge of the corner. While tip-toeing to the corner of the hallway I can hear a slow raspy breathing. The closer I get the louder it becomes. A test question pops into my head, What elements make up the noble gases? I pass a sign along the wall that is letting kids know when the registration dates for ACT testing is due by. Then I see it, a shadow in the entry way of the corner. In, what looks like to be a man's hand, is a sharp looking object.

I start running back towards my room. I run as fast as I can. I don't even know what is going on behind me, or what the guy could possibly be doing, I just run for my life. I do though hear a clanging noise, like the man attempting to through the knife at me and it missing and clanging to the floor. I just keep on running not hesitating. I run into my classroom and barricade the door. I go for the black school phone on the other side of the room, and to find out the phone line has been cut. I dig in my desk for my iPhone, to find out I have no service at all. I already had known that, but in a panicked situation you never know what your going to do.

BOOM! I look over at the door and I can see this figure slamming a hug sledge hammer against my classroom door. I see the man looking up at me then all of a sudden. He had dark skin, and a scruffy looking face with a poorly cared beard on his face. He was wearing a black hoodie with the hood up. BOOM, BOOM!!!

What in the hell am I going to do? I am stuck in this room with a murderous psycho-path outside the door.  BOOM! I grab a knife out of one of the class cupboards used for experiments, preparing myself for the inevitable. BOOM! The hinges on the door where starting to come loose. The wooden door was weakening under the continued pressure, and then there was no more boom's upon the door. The man had stopped banging on the door. Why did he stop?

I look over towards the door, and he wasn't even standing there anymore. "Where did he go?" I said with my nerves on their edge. I was ready to just crack up, just start screaming at the top of my head. There was absolutely no noise being made. I could hear the clicking of the clock but nothing else could be heard. I pasted around the room, walking back and forth in front of all the students desk's. What the hell was going to happen to me?

A thought popped into my head, what if I was imagining things. What if I imagined that shadow, the man's face, and all those noises. I go near the door, and then I remembered, why would the door be almost busted off it's hinges?

Then I heard a loud, CLICK, noise. Louder than a clock ticking every second. I was like a door coming unlocked is what it sounded like. I was rooted to the spot. I couldn't move any part of my body. Then I heard footsteps growing louder and louder. Then I heard a voice, a loud raspy voice yell out, "You shouldn't have ran." I was trying to move as I saw a man's figure move closer and closer to me, but it was like my body was frozen to the spot. I saw him pull out a long sharp object . . .



Luke Rodgers had died on November 13th, 2012. He was found early morning on the 14th of November by the students in is first hour Chemistry class. They had walked into his classroom, all of them said they thought he was sleeping at his desk, face down. None of them bothered to wake him, as to try and get out of a test if he slept through the hour. They were going to draw on his face, but to find out that his skin had been peeled off his face. Further examination had also resulting in the discovery that his genitals had been cut off, toes had been removed by what looked like to be a pliers, and his knees smashed into a bunch of tiny pieces. Autopsy results had proved that Mr. Rodgers had been alive for most of the damage done to him. The man (or women) responsible has not yet been found. It is believed, though, that this has been done by the now legendary serial killer, who has committed around 100 murders in the past five months. There are absolutely no leads to go off of. It does seem to be fishy, though that each person being killed has written about their death before they died. No leads besides that, it seems the killer, whoever it might be, knows what he is doing. The city is starting to fall apart

A continuation of a previous story, and yet to be continued still . . .


This has been a fictional story from Noah Mark Bitney 

Unwanted Power

I can remember being able to do it since, well since I was able to remember. It is the earliest memory that I have. I was something like two years old. My father had picked me up off the floor because I was crying. I looked right into his eyes, and not like just a glance like most people do, I looked deep into his eyes, and I was able to see everything. Images of loads of things flashed in front of my vision of my dad. I saw a little boy sitting alone on a swing set, crying. I saw a little girl approaching him on the swing. Flash, then I saw a woman walking down aisle in a beautiful long dress. Flash, I saw a room full of kids, with the teacher passing out papers to the kids. A little boy dressed in a green and gray flannel shirt got his, and a test score written in red pen said "25/25" with a little smiley face next to it. Flash, their was a car flipped upside down on a country road. Red and blue lights were flashing everywhere. Inside the car were two adults, one male and one female. In the back seat of the car was a five year old child crying and screaming "Help, help, someone please help. My Mommy and Daddy are hurt. HELP!" Then a series of numbers flashed forward upon the scene I was seeing. The numbers were "11/23/2005," that was the day my parents had left me alone in this world.

After that day when my dad had picked me up off the floor, I remembered everything that had happened in his life. Not just everything that had happened, though, I was also able to see his future. It didn't just happen with my dad. It had happened every time I looked deeply into someone’s eyes, when I stared into their eyes not just glanced into them. When I did glance into them I got a little flash but not everything. The really freaky thing, though, is the fact that I remember everything I have seen. I know everything about them, from the day they were born, to when and how they lost their first tooth, to the day they got married, and finally knowing the exact date they are going to die, and how they will leave this world.

So that day when my dad had picked me up off the floor, I knew how and when they were going to die. On November 23rd, 2005, my parents had died in a car crash. I was in the car and survived the accident. I was only five years old when I became an orphan. After that day, I knew, I knew what my power was exactly and what I was able to do. I can remember looking into my mother’s eyes when I was about four years old and seeing the exact same end to her story as my father’s. At the time, I thought nothing of it of course, but after that, I understood I have an unwanted power. It would be a power I will never want to have or use.

I am seventeen years old now, and I still continue to live in an orphanage. I have probably had over 100 adoption interviews since I became an orphan. I expect it is probably something to do with the fact I can tell the people who are considering me for adoption, everything about their lives. I am guessing that, that it might sorta freak them out a little bit. I can remember a funny story from this one guy once. He was six years old when it had happened to him. He wasn't the brightest kid in the world; he had short blonde hair and the cutest blue eyes I had ever seen on a little kid. He was walking down a street in a big town, surprisingly the street he was on was completely bare off people, which for him was probably a good thing. A black dog, a Russell terrier, had gotten loose, apparently, and ran up behind Francis, that was his name. Francis, allegedly, had gotten so scared of the dog that he had actually peed his pants. That wasn't the only funny part out this guy's memory. It was his birthday that same day, and he was on his way home from school, and when he had gotten home, there was a whole bunch of people waiting to greet him. He was so embarrassed. A girl he had liked was there and everything.

Of course, after all, I can remember everything about everyone. Another example is this one single lady who had wanted to adopt me a while back, maybe when I was like seven years old. When she was 22 years old, a couple years before I had met her, she had been left by her husband of six years. They for some dumb-ass reason had decided to get married when they were 16 years old. Their marriage had fallen apart because she wanted children, and he had wanted to live life before he had to be tied down even further. Look though where she showed up three years later. So, my guess is that this ability, this unwanted power that I have must freak people out just a little bit. Well, it freaks me out so why wouldn’t it freak them out. 

How creepy would it be to meet a child for the first time, someone you have never met in your entire life, and then they knew everything about you? Knew that in the fifth grade you peed your pants. She knew when (to the exact time of day) you had lost your first tooth. Wouldn't you freak out if someone told you the day you are going to die, and how you are going to leave the world. 

Why would I tell the people this, though? I mean why don’t I just keep my mouth shut and not tell them I know things about them. Well I was brought up to honest no matter what. I can remember my father telling me before he died that honesty counts. He said, “To earn one’s trust you will need honesty. Therefore, honesty is what is most important I think about people, so why shouldn’t I be honest to them when they ask me, “Did you want to know some things about us?” So, I tell them I know everything. Of course, they do not believe me. They ask questions then to see if I really do, and I can, definitely, answer every question about their lives that they ask me. Probably not the greatest thing in the world, but I just cannot help it because I have to be honest. 

What I really hate is when they aren’t honest to me. I see their past, I know everything about them. Of course, they don’t know that quite yet, but they will lie to me telling me how great of person they are when in fact they really aren’t at all. I am afraid that one day I am going to see  into someone’s past, someone to whom I trust dearly, and to find out that they are a murderer. 

I guess that is what this power of mine could be used for though couldn’t it? Sure, I don’t want this power, but I never had a choice of having it or not. I have always tried to think of why I had this power. What good or usefulness could come of this, this strange unwanted power of mine? Well, for the past year,my guardian, Bertha, at the orphanage here has tried to get me looking into career paths that I might be interested in, so I can apply for colleges after I get my diploma. A couple days ago, however, I came across something that might have at least something to do with my power, as I like to call it. 

Working in law enforcement would work wouldn’t it? I mean people would have to believe me that I have this power, but I am sure there are ways in which they could possibly check it. Law enforcement would be good because I could interrogate people, but instead I would be reading into their past to find out what they did and if they actually did it. 

Oh my god, I just realized that I never really introduced myself have I? How very rude of me. I have just been blabbing on and on about my history, about my power, and what I plan on doing after I get out of this orphanage, and you don’t even know my name. Well I think my name is the reason why so many people wanted to adopt me. My name is Eliza Ruth Hunterson. People seem to think Eliza Ruth is a very beautiful name. I have blonde hair, seemingly, beautiful blue eyes (so I have been told), and I (have also been told) that I have a perfect body. I swear guys at this orphanage are freaking crazy! 

There is no need for strange facts about me as you already know them right? Well, the main one I guess you know. All the other strange things about me have to do with the fact that I can see everyone’s past and future and then remember it. People think it is extremely weird that I have not once looked into a mirror in my life, well that I can remember at least. I am just too afraid too. I do not want to know about my future. I do not want to know when and how I am going to die. I think that I couldn’t handle it, and if I ever did find out, I would be so depressed. 

That’s what I have always wondered though. Is what I see for people’s future actually going to happen, or is it possible to change it if you want to? I have so many questions still about my power. I never know truly, exactly everything. I can remember this one guy, however. He wanted a daughter so badly, a teenage daughter. He was so close to getting me (I know it sounds weird saying he was going to get me, but that’s basically what it means). I saw his future and saw that he was going to be diagnosed with a serious and very rare form of cancer within the next week. Then, three weeks later he was going to die. I had to tell him because after what I had seen when I met him some three years ago, I started crying, and he wanted to know why all of a sudden I was crying. He left almost immediately after I had told him. I felt so badly for him; he could have been a father to me. 

Speaking of adoptions, strangely enough I have a interview for adoption today. Bertha and I were both very surprised actually because no one, and I mean absolutely no one ever has adopted a 17 year old. Whats the point of spending money on adopting a child that will soon be a legal adult. We were going to say no, but I just want to always have someone I can trust, know what I mean? If I need somewhere to go I will always have them. 

It is three o’clock in the afternoon on the 2nd of July, 2015. I am waiting anxiously in the interview room as I have for the past 12 years. I have had thousands of dreams in this room. Yellowish colored walls with old movie posters scattered all over the them, Bertha is a huge movie buff. A white collapsible table is in the middle of the room, with me sitting in one dark brown leather chair on one side, and two empty wooden chairs on the other side. My interview does’t start until 3:30, but I was just too excited to wait anywhere else.

When 3:25 rolled around, I heard a knock on the door. Nerves were flowing through me like pain when you step on a nail. Bertha came walking in with a dark brown haired man, he looked very built and seemed to be like a very serious business man. I did not make eye contact. With interviews I always try not too (especially this one) but always end up somehow making that contact. She also walked in his a bigger tougher looking guy. He must have been a body builder. 

“Eliza, this is Jerry,” pointing to the brown haired man, “and this is Frank. I will leave you three alone to talk,” said Bertha in her soft heartwarming voice. She had shut the door behind her. This was probably the biggest mistake of her life. 

“Hi Jerry and Frank,” I said smiling to the both of them. They were still standing. Jerry had reached into his suit suddenly and said, “Hello Eliza. Do not panic, we are not here to hurt you.” That was the last thing I could remember before everything went black. 

To be continued . . .

Sleepless Night

(WARNING: before you read this make sure you are okay with reading obscene material such as gory content). 

Dear to whoever reads this,

11 o'clock at night and I am just getting home from a night out at the movies with some friends. We (well technically I) decided to go see the film Contagion. It was an alright movie. Seemed to be choppy, and it really cut-off parts like it was edited very badly. Anyway that is not the reason I am writing this letter to whom it concerns. I am writing this at 12 o'clock at night because I am afraid for my life, and I will explain why later in the letter . . . if I get the chance to finish it. Anyway yes I am writing this letter just to let you all know what happened, and that I love you all. If I make it to the morning I will just end up throwing it away in the morning. 

So as I was saying I am in fear of my life right at the moment. I came home tonight and when I was walking through my kitchen towards my bedroom, I saw a man's face in the window staring in at me. Well at first glance I didn't see anything, but when I looked back I saw him looking into the window. I jumped, spilling the Coca-Cola in my hand all over the floor. When I looked back at the window the man wasn't there. I swear though I saw him, so I run up to the window to look and see if I can see anyone near by. I look out the window, and DUH its 11 o'clock at night, how in the hell am I going to see anyone out there. 

So I guess assume it was the trick of the light, and forget about it and remember I have a pop spill to pick up. I go to the sink and get a wet rag and wipe up the sweet smelling soda of my polished wood floors. After I through the cloth in the sink I look back over at the window. I jump again the man's face was their. He has a full grown beard and shaggy hair. When I look again though he is gone. 

Now I am starting to panic. Thinking what do I do. Well I go double check that I triple lock my door, I have three lock to my front door of my apartment. I make sure all my windows are locked close. I saw him again though. I was shutting an upstairs window when I saw a man's figure standing in the middle of the road, the street lamps was illuminating his shadow. I walk away from that window and go to shut another one right next to it, and the man's figure is gone. "What the eff is going on?" I question myself. 

So I go to my room and bolt it shut, thankfully it actually has one. It does have a window though, and right now I am really wishing that it didn't. I look over towards it after I have stripped down to my boxers and crawled into my bed. Nothing, thankfully, was looking in towards me. I sit there for what felt like hours and hours, but when I look over at my nightstand I see that it has only been 30 minutes since I have spilled that soda in the kitchen. I continue to think over and over in my head, 'who would do this to people? Why would someone have a sick mind to look into a man's house and creep him out into a sleepless night?' 

Then I began to think about the next day, and how I have to work a 12 hour shift tomorrow. I groan with the thought of standing in front of a conveyor belt all day staring at bottles of water be made. I look over at the window, I jump straight up and out of my bed! Their the man's face was again in the window staring in at me. I blinked though and he was gone. 

Now reader whoever you are . . . you are probably wondering by now why have I not called the cops or someone? Well I will tell you why it is because I do not own a phone in my apartment. Stupid right? Well I don't and I can't change that tonight, and I am not going out their with some crazy possibly out their. So after I see the man's face once again I decided to . . . 

WAIT WHAT WAS THAT?!?!?

Johnny Wenderson was found dead in his apartment on July 18th, 2012, three days after this letter was dated. He was found in his bathroom with his mouth knitted shut, throat slit, fingernails removed, feet taken off at the ankle, and his neck broken. His body was found in the bathtub soaking in his own blood. The autopsy revealed that Johnny was alive through it all until the killer finally slit his throat. The killer is yet to be found, but it is considered that this isn't his first killing. Their was a mysterious death two days prior to Johnny's. Their are no clues leading to the killer, and absolutely no lead to go on. This killer knows what he is doing, and that is what is starting to scare the city.

To be continued . . .

This has been a story idea by Noah Mark Bitney. 

A Dilemma

Seven days a week I work. Well not technically as I am on call all seven day, but I would still count it as working all week long. My boss calls me whenever I need to work. If he can't get a hold of me it''s fine and I just try to work the next day if he has work for me. Oh I work at a transportation company in a big city. I can gratefully thank my brother-in law, Hank, for getting me the job. He got me the job because he works there too.

I am 17 years old, and I needed a job so he was nice enough to talk to his boss and land me a job there. I wash trucks, clean the shop, run after parts, change tires, and a lot of other odd jobs. I get paid really well to: I get about 9.50 an hour, which is really good for my age. I love my brother-in-law for landing me the job. I would do anything for him now. Problem is I can't find anything to do for him. Well that's what I thought for a couple of months until I reached my dilemma.

Obviously Hank is married to my sister, Samantha, as that is how it works. I found something out though yesterday about my sister that I would never had wanted to know or even see as her brother. Hank has a friend named Robert that I had met on my Sister, Samantha, and Hank's wedding day. Robert is the kind of guy that is a man whore as I would call him. I think you can find someone in your life who is or was like that.

Well apparently Robert was the one who introduced Hank to my big sister Samantha. When Sam and Hank first met it was like love at first site they said. Something though I knew was up with Sam and Robert. I could see it in their eyes when I saw them together for the first time. This was confirmed though, I was proved right the other day.

After work one day last week I had to stop at my sister's to drop off my check so she could cash some of it and put the other part of it in my savings. She works at a bank, so it makes it easier for me so I don't have to run 20 minutes to go drop it off when she could just do it herself when she goes into work. I was planning on just leaving a note on the envelope and leaving it inside their front porch.

On that day I had seen Robert at my work because he also works their once and while. He left awhile before me though. So when I pull into my sister's driveway I saw his truck. I thought to myself that this is weird. Hank is still working, so why is he here? Then I saw my sister's car, and wondered even more because she was supposed to be at work. I parked on the street, and decided to walk up to the front door.

I then saw things I never ever want to see happening to my sister ever. I looked in through the front window and saw that Samantha and Robert where having sex on the couch. My mind was disgusted and repulsed, but at the same time I had a swelling anger building up in me. I didn't walk in of course that would just be weird. Before I walked back to my car though I heard Samantha say something I wish I would have never heard, "What we going to have another baby?"

Sam and Hank have a one-year-old baby. Well my whole family thought it was Sam and Hank's. My stomach dropped when I heard this. I walked back to my car and drove away. So, yes this is my dilemma. What am I supposed to do? Tell my brother-in-law, and ruin his heart and life, or do not tell him and let him live in lies for the rest of his life?

I am 17 years old, one year left of High School, and I shouldn't have this on my mind should I? I have a huge dilemma on my mind, and I have no idea what to do about it. It should't be my concern. Help me . . . someone???

This has been a fictional story by Noah Mark Bitney. 

In fear

"WHAT WAS THAT?" I yelled out in the middle of the night. Sweat was dripping down my chest. I was taking in deep breathes. All I could think about was the possibility of a murderer could be standing outside of my window, or maybe even outside the door to my apartment. 

This is my life. I live in fear of what could possibly happen to me. If a friend asks me go out to have a drink or go see a movie, I make up some lame excuse on how I cannot go. That was years ago though. I don't think a friend has asked me to go out in like three years. Why don't I go out? Well because I have lived my life in fear ever since I was a little child, and I was kidnapped by a stranger. So now, every time someone knocks on my door, or if I am out on the streets, I think that they are a murderer plotting a way to kill me. I mean you can't trust anyone can you? You don't know what they could be planning or doing.

I am also terrified of driving. I could be the safest driver in the world, but yet their could be a drunk-ass man out there driving and he could hit me a kill me like a little bug on a windshield. So what do I do right? I can't leave to go anywhere, well I don't leave actually at all unless I need food. I run an online store in my apartment, and I take online courses for college to advance my education further and further. I leave my apartment only for food, and only if it is absolutely necessary. I think the last time I left was about a month ago now. I stock up on canned goods, ramen noodles, and lots of food that can last awhile so I can buy in stock and not go out as often. 

My entertainment is just watching TV, movies on Netflix, and maybe some video gaming (I buy all my gadgets and thing on Amazon.com, so they are shipped straight to my door). Oh that's not always the best though because I do not trust the man that comes to the door. What if he is broke, depressed because his wife now wants a divorce, so he brought a gun to kill me and take all my money? God scary moment everything a delivery guy comes. I hate it.

You make think I am crazy right? I am not though. I want to live for a long time and not be killed, so I decided to live my life in fear. All of this because of that guy who kidnapped me when I was only 12 years old. Before that I used to go up to random people and say, "Hi, how are you today sir?" I used to go out with my friends, and be the life of the party . . . what has happened with my life? Isn't better to live life to it's fullest instead of living it in fear. I have no life instead of a life like every other human being out their. I sit at home all day and everyday sitting in front of a computer screen running a online store. 

There is a gun sitting on my night stand, and I say to myself, "Why not right? Do it Jessica, I don't have a life anyway!" So I pull the trigger and . . . . ring ring. . . . ring ring. . . Wait guns don't go ring ring right? 

My phone on my nightstand next to my bed it ringing and moving across the surface of the nightstand. I realize it was just dream, a dream of me realizing that my life is a piece of shit. I grab the phone and hit the green button. "Hello Jessica, this is Rachel. You probably don't remember me, but we used friends a long time ago. I was thinking about you today, and was wondering if maybe you wanted to catch a drink and catch up?" 

Oh my god it's Rachel I haven't talked to her in years. "Oh hey Rachel. Ummm . . . I was sleeping . . ." I pause, then say, "but yes I would love that. You know where that bar on Herman's Avenue is right?" I thought it was time I had started not living my life in fear, but living it to the fullest. 

This has been a fictional story by Noah Bitney 

The Mistakes

I told him to slow down, over and over again. I told him to stop passing cars. He was weaving in and out of each lane he was in. The last time I checked his speed before it had happened he was going about 100 miles an hour. I repeated myself even louder, "SLOW DOWN!" He of course didn't listen to me. Why would he? If I would have been a smart person I would, and should have told him to stop and let me out. Sure we were in the middle of nowhere, but I probably had a better chance with that than being with him. It was though already to late for that. It's all to late now.

My friend Bobby and I were heading home from a night out. Just us guys hanging out, doing guy stuff you know? Just having a little guy time. Well we had decided to take his truck to wherever we went. I think I remember us going out to a burger shop and maybe a little time for some shopping at a video game store. I am not sure what we were doing, all I can remember is the ride home. He was just speeding and speeding. He would slow down a little bit, but then pick up his speed again. If there was a car in front of him, and he would just go right around that car without any hesitation. Now you have to realize that we aren't on a freeway or a two lane, one way road. We were on a normal highway, where their are cars going in opposite directions. I was griping the JC (Jesus Christ) handle with all my might. I was sacred out of my wits.

Why didn't I tell him to let me out or soothing? Well it never occurred to me, but I guess there is no point dwelling on what has happened right? I can't change it no matter how much I want to. So anyway we were heading home, and we were about maybe 20 minutes away from my house, when my phone started humming in my pocket. So, I pull out my iPhone and see that my girlfriend, Rachel, is calling me. I pick it up say hello and hear her say,"Hey baby, where are you? I am at your house waiting for you. I thought we were going out?"

I had remembered but I thought I would make her wait for me for once. She used to always be late for me when I would go to pick her up. She would be out with her friends and such. "Oh I am on my way I should be their in about 15 minutes babe. Sorry."

She responds in a irritated tone, "Oh alright see you soon then?"

I say "Yes of course baby! I love you, you know that right?" But that was the last thing I heard and the last thing I said. All of a sudden their was this huge amount of pressure on my chest from my seatbelt. I was thrown forward. At this point I don't even know what the fuck had happened to my phone. I see glass shattering everywhere. Then I feel myself thrown to the side as the car slides on the blacktop towards a tree. I can barely see i, but it keeps getting closer and closer. Then all of a sudden darkness hits . . . .

My eyes open up. All I can see it white as I am looking up towards the sky. I hear some sirens and people screaming and saying, "Oh my god what happened here?" My entire body aches with complete and utter agony. Everything, every inch of my body burns with pain. My eyes start to focus I look down and see that my legs are smashed up, and bent the opposite way. I can start to feel the darkness coming again, but before it comes I see Rachel running towards me tears running down her face. . . .

That was the last thing I remember, and that was the last time I was alive. My name is Roger Kentin, and this is the story of how I died.

This is a fictional story created by Noah Mark Bitney.

Years go by

I can't believe that only two years ago I had just started driving. Time goes by so fast. I am 18 years old, and I can still remember my first day of Kindergarten all those 13 years ago. I remember my mother taking me to school of the first day. She couldn't of course stay with me throughout the whole day, she had to leave eventually. When we showed up I can remember that I wouldn't let go of her leg the whole time, until she had to leave me. I can remember being terrified of my teacher. Of course though like every other kid I eventually got used to it. Every year though, of school, after that I had to have my mother come to at least to the first day of school. I think she did that until I was in sixth grade actually.

I always have been attached to my mom. I can remember this actually too. I was supposed to be going to preschool actually, and on my first day I can remember ruining away from preschool after my mother had left me. I remember sneaking out past the teacher, and the just running and running not knowing where I was going at all. Then the teacher of course caught up to me. I don't remember what happened after that, but I can remember that part.

Oh wait though how rude of my I haven't even introduced myself. You have just been reading this story here wondering what the fuck this guy's problem is. Why do we give a shit about his life? Well maybe you don't care about my life right, but you are reading this still aren't you? Anyways though, allow me to introduce myself. My name is Matthew Roberts. I am now 18 years old as you have already found out. That is all you really know about me. Well before I continue to drain on about my boring story I have to tell you here, let me give you a few details so you won't be too confused throughout the story of my life here. Something you need to know is that I am actually graduating tomorrow afternoon from my High School, Franklin High. I am moving out of my parents house within the next week, but I have already started going through some old things. One last thing before we can get back to me rambling on about my life is that I am a very attractive male . . . and single (for all the ladies out their). No I am just kidding I am not single I do have an amazing girlfriend who I have so been wonderfully dating for the past two years. I am moving in with her next week.

Now yeah I can remember being a momma's boy. I am still to this day in fact a momma's boy. I have no idea what I would do without my amazing mother. She has helped me out with a lot of things in my life, and has bought almost everything I have ever wanted. Wow, what a way to repay her back by leaving her at the first possible chance I can get. It's not like I won't see her again. I will come visit her and my family all the time. I can't stay away forever. I dunno though I just feel really guilty about leaving her all alone. My dad had died a couple years back now and my sister had moved out a couple years ago, but she still lives in the same town as my mom. I was the only child left in the house and now I am leaving her.

My mom is remolding the house though at the same time as me moving out so it is kind of nice because we have to go through everything anyway, and then she is going to get rid of the stuff she doesn't need laying around anymore. We were going through some old things yesterday actually and I almost broke into some tears. She was going to throughout my old Nintendo 64. You know what that is right? Well if you don't it is an old video game console. Anyway, their were a whole bunch of things I can remember from my young childhood. I can remember being into Superman when I was like seven years old. I found a box full of my old action-figures and costumes and stickers and things. I don't want to get rid of any of it though. I am like attached to it. Sure the years go by, but the memories don't that is for sure. I see something like my old "Rescue Hero's" and I can relate it to a memory with them immediately. I can remember when my father had got rid of my old tree house just a year before he died.

That tree house is where I spent all my time with my very first friend. She was from preschool actually. We played together all the time, pretending the tree house was a pirate ship with guns. We had endless days together. I can't remember her name though now a days. She moved right after preschool was over which is why. I never saw her again.

My mom and me found an old train set of mine that I used to play with when I was a little kid. She was going to put it up for a garage sale, but I told her to ask my sister if she wanted it for her little kid for when he grows up. If not I want it. I mean that thing would be great for when I have kids someday. Oh my god. I am going to have kids. I can remember being a kid not to long ago. It seemed like it was yesterday that I could sneak a cookie from the top shelf pretending to be a spy, then my mother catching me in the act and eating some cookies with me. It wasn't yesterday though, it was over 10 years ago already. The years really do go by, and not slowly at all. In five years I could possibly be married and having my first child.

I thought I wanted to grow up. I think all of us soon to be graduates of Franklin High think we want to grow up, but really we just need to remember to live in the moment because if you think back just five years ago, everything about your life has changed and is going to change now very quickly. I don't want this life as a kid to end, because now I am out their on my own. I have to figure things out that my parents always did for me. I am not alone though in this mission of life, I do have someone I love to help me live in the moment as the years go by.

This has been a fictional story created by Noah Mark Bitney.

Remember to live in the moment you are in, and enjoy it because before you know it your whole world could be changed from what it was.

2125

The world has changed since my birth. I can remember when people used to be considered old when they are 60 years old, I am 130 years old myself. I can remember when movies used to be something on a screen, and not a holograph in front of my eyes. Books used to be on paper and now are on a computer screen. It used to take hours to drive 300 miles, but now all it takes is the time to blink your eye. Everything has changed. The United States used to be just the Untied States of a America, not the Untied States of the World. That happened around 2050, when President George T. Bucket decided to take over the world one step at a time, and almost every citizen of the old United States voted him into office because they had supported his idea.

Well look at the world we live in now huh? A computer controls everything we do. We have chips in our brains to control us, to control our fates. This Mother Board computer controls every single person in the world. I started happening in 2030 when President George started his first term. He decided to make every single baby have a chip implanted into their  head to regulate what people of the new century would be doing. He is gone now, but his son now controls everything that goes on in the world today. Today now though he is getting old. The average life expectancy in todays time is around 100 years old. George's son, Fabio, of course has his son which will take over the reins of the world when he dies. You all remember Democracy? Well that hasn't been used in over 100 years, no one except me remembers what it is. It doesn't exist anymore, Anarchy only exists in this world.

But anyways the Mother Board computer. Everyone thought this would be the greatest invention of the 21st century. People thought it would help catch criminals and bad people all around the world, but what they did not know was that people did things illegal every single day of the year. We all know too that technology can go bad after a few years or so. You have to update it or get a new computer. Well this Mother Board Computer took over. People think that Fabio controls the world and Mother Board, but actually the Mother Board computer controls him just like everyone else. Mother Board knows everything about everyone in the entire world. She watches everyone, she regulates everything you do. She can even regulate your life. She could kill you at any second if she wanted to. So the crime rate in the world is down to 1%. How right? With her regulating everyone how could their be 1% of crime rate out their, shouldn't it be 0%? Well not every single person is regulated by Mother Board

You may be wondering by now how to I know all of this, right? No, I am not the Mother Board. I am 130 years old was I born with the chip? No that is right. My name is Franklin Afrack, and I am the only person still living before the age of the Mother Board. I am so old because I did am a doctor who figured out a way to live forever. . . . . .

To be continued . . . .


This has been a short story planning on be a better book in the future by:
Noah Mark Bitney

The Hotel

HEY YOU! Yeah you I am talking to. Yeah you hear that, you hear that sound. A 'tick-tock, tick-tock.' Well I will try to get some sleep anyways," yelled a old man that ran the hotel, and then slammed his door shut on me, the night custodian.

The old man was 78 years old about a month ago now. He was really starting to lose it in his head. I mean he is hearing things no one else is around here can hear. About a week ago he was yelling up a storm in the basement of "The Grand Hotel" (his hotel he founded back when he was only 20 years old) about a dog barking, but when we came a running along to help him out, their was not sound. He kept yelling and screaming about this dog barking though for about 10 minutes while we were down their. He wouldn't leave the basement until he caught that dang dog he kept telling us. Then he just quit  and he never brought it up again. Look at him now though, here he is hearing a clock ticking or something. I am guessing just his mind losing it again. Like I was saying though, the old man is a tall, skinny 78 year old man. He has no hair what-so-ever on him expect a big white mustache. His skin is wrinkly like a dried up tomato. When he falls asleep though, he has no problem staying asleep. No one can wake him up too. It is like he is in a trance while he sleeps. We asked the doctor one night if we should worry about this, but he says it is normal for people his age to not be able to wake easily. Anyway I had better get back to work here, gotta clean up a mess in a bathroom on level five.

A young girlish voice whispered, "Frank Basim!" WHAM, the old man shot straight up out of his bed. His red silk blanket fell off his chest as he sat up instantaneously. "Who's their?" He hollered in his hoarse scared voice. Frank grabbed a shiny silver knife of his wooden nightstand. "I am warning you, I am armed! Don't come near me!" The old man had sweat sliding down his forehead. He was now kneeling upon his bed, in his night gown holding the knife like it was his Excalibur. The girlish voice whispered again. "Frank Basim!" Frank started swinging his little pathetic knife around him like someone was approaching him. "We warned you, Frank Basim!" whispered the voice. Sweat was streaming down the old man's, Frank's, head now. For an old man he was really sweating, then he said, "Warned me?" in his scared questionable tone. "War-warned me a-about what may I as-ask?" All Frank could hear was a voice, there was nothing to this voice but just a sound. "We had warned you years ago Frank. Now, now you must leave forever." Frank had gotten into a sitting position upon the edge of his bed now."What do you mean 'leave forever?' " asked Frank, but that must have been the wrong thing to do. His bed instantly started shaking, nothing else but his bed though. All the furniture, shelves, and things around him didn't shake. Frank leaned back on his bed as not to fall out of his bed that seemed to be having an earthquake of itself. It just kept shaking and shaking. It seemed to be going on for hours by now! Frank kept thinking, hoping that someone down stairs or near could hear the racket this was making.

WHAM! Then out of nowhere it had stopped, like someone had switched the on button to off. "Do not anger us again Frank, you do not want to feel the full extent of our wrath. Now listen closely my little pest. You have exactly 24 hours to destroy this place, AND put everything back the way it was." The voice had turned into more and more of a man's voice with every word. "You and you alone have to do this or else you WILL join us Frank! You will join us from where you had put us 58 years ago. Remember we are always watching!" Then their was a faint POP, and Frank had fainted backwards onto his bed.

The next morning the custodian had come into Frank Basim's room to check up on him. He found Frank laying on his bed with a bloody knife in his hand and his neck slit open. Police filed the death as a suicide after the autopsy came back on the body saying that Mr. Basim had suffered from schizophrenia for the past 10 years of his life. They say he must have killed himself in the dead of night to save himself from something he had dreamed up in his head. The very next day the hotel was burned down, "never to be used again after my death" said his will.. The hotel site had become a burial ground once again. Frank Basim had ended up being buried their for all of eternity. Upon his tombstone read, "Here lies Franks Basim, this is where he had lived and left the world . . . forever!"

This is a fictional story written by Noah Bitney! 

An escape

"Why? Why do you think you can come 30 minutes late, and have it be okay?" My wife, as usual, is yelling at me for the like tenth time today. Yeah and guess what else I have only been home today for like a total of 15 minutes to a half an hour. Everyday it is the same old thing: Why don't you take the trash out? Why aren't you home on time? Where were you? Why are you so crabby lately? Can't we just talk anymore? Why don't you help with the baby? UGH, I am just getting so sick of it. Yeah sure I would help with the baby, but every time I try to change the diaper or put some clothes on it you just do it again right afterwords like I did a bad job doing it. I am crabby because you keep yelling at me all the time for having to stay an extra 15 minutes at work because I have to make some sort of income for this household. You, your not getting paid right now because you have to take care of the baby. We need the money honey! Of course though I couldn't say any of this to her. Oh god I would be in so much trouble it isn't even funny.

"Are you even listening to a word I am saying John?" my wife asked in a pissed off tone. "Yes dear, sorry just thinking about something at work-" That was the wrong thing to say. "AT WORK? AT WORK? YOU SPEND ALL DAY THEIR AWAY FROM HERE, AND SO WHEN YOU COME HOME YOU CAN JUST CONTINUE TO THINK ABOUT? WHY NOT ACTUALLY HELP ME, THINK ABOUT ME AND THE EFFING BABY JOHN!" Oh great here we go. See what I mean by saying that was the wrong thing to say? "Sorry baby. I am sorry, is their anything you want me to do?" Yeah I bet their is something she wants me to do, but will she ask me? Nope she won't you just wait. "John no there isn't anything . . . . . . . WAIT actually yes, JUST LEAVE! GET OUR NOW! Get out of the house, and just get out of my life!"

"Wait what? Jessica what are you talking about? I love you, you love me, why would you kick me out of the house? More importantly out of your life?" She got up of her chair at the dinner table, and shoved me out of the door I had just come through from coming home from work. "AND JUST STAY OUT!" She yelled while slamming the door shut. "What the fuck?" I said allowed. What just happened? I mean she just kicked me out. Is it over between us? I am just so confused. What in the hell did I do wrong? Yeah sure I came home a little late, but I have been doing that a lot lately because I have had to stay at the office. She knows that, I know she knows that! She had better know that. All the things I have done for her, all the things I have given up to be with her and Jackson, our child. I could have been a major author. I could have countless amount of time to finish my book, and get it published and make millions. I was always told it was going to be great by my old agent, but I chased after love my love for Jessica. Look where that has taken me?

I sat their on the sidewalk for what felt like an hour or so. I just sat their thinking about what my life could have been what it would be if I hadn't fallen in love. Wait though, wait just a minute! This is an escape. Yes, this is perfect I can get away for a few days and just clear my head. I don't think I would leave forever, because I still love her, but this is it. I can get away for a few days and just have an escape. I can go see a movie, maybe even in my favorite way to see a movie, in IMAX. I could just drive and dive that is always a good way to just clear my head. I could finish reading a novel even possibly. This is just perfect, this is the perfect escape from my world.

What if she won't take me back though? What if, right now she is expecting me to come back through that door. This is an escape though. Should I give it up? What do I do? All I know is that I love Jennifer and I never have, and never will regret choosing the life I chose one year ago! What do I do? I could lose her forever right here and right now.

This is a fictional story written by Noah Bitney 

Why me?

Dear Students of Walter High, my parents, and the bullies of my life. Here is my story and why I did what I did. You know who you are in this story so make sure you pay close attention to it.

Well, it all began since I was second grade. I was a normal kid if I do say so myself. Apparently "they" didn't think I was though. I loved to play kickball, and I loved everything "they loved." That wasn't good enough I guess. Sure I liked to read and they didn't, who cares right? I cannot be the only one in our entire class who likes to read. Though that didn't matter did it? "They" picked me to make sun of, "they" picked me to bully for nine years of school. Who is "they?" Well "they are the three girls, and two guys who picked on me all the way from second grade to eleventh grade. For nights and nights I cried myself to sleep asking myself the same question over and over again, "Why me?" Why did they have to pick me to make fun of every day of my life.

Yeah sure I went to the teachers and told them what was going on, I only did that though until the fifth grade. It had only made things 20 times worse with them. I was from then on called a "tattle tale." Their were loads of name they called me. For example they called me: dweeb, nerd, fatty, dork, four eyes, mister know-it-all, Mr. Stinky, hobbit, elf, sniffles, and loads of others. I could sit here all day naming things that they call me. Sure some of them I can blow off over my head an ignore, but it comes to a point where it just fills me up and I just want to explode with anger and rage. I just want to punch the living crap out of them.

At first they weren't abusive, but it didn't take very long until they did become very abusive. I was pushed down a flight of stairs, which resulted in many bruises and cuts all over my body. Sure people asked, "What happened?" I just told them I tripped. I knew there were people who knew the truth about what was happening, but they of course wouldn't tell anyone because they would be picked on next. If someone started to hang our with me too, they would be picked on too. So I have no friends what-so-ever. Teachers ask what happens to me when I fall down the stairs. I just tell them it was an accident, the same of course with me parents. The stairs aren't the only way they actually physically hurt me. They also push me into my locker, trip me in the hallways, and well anything you can really think of.

Why do I tell you all of this in a letter? Well I wanted you to know my story, all of you to know it before I decided to take my life tonight. I didn't want to leave in a mystery to some of you who knew me quite well. So yes I was bullied for most of my life. I decided to end my life because I could not just handle it anymore. It happened to me every single day, and their was no one I could talk to about it, or become friends with. Yeah sure people say that one you it the bottom of the ladder the only way is up, but I kept stumbling down the ladder when I started to climb. It was more like I was beaten down the ladder instead of stumbling. People also say, "Life is worth living for!" Hm, yes it is somewhat true, but at the same time when you are living in a living hell, you might as well just end your life because you don't want to live with a living torture. I cried every single night. I had no one, NO ONE, to open up to about this problem without making the situation worse. So, I decided to take a gun to my head, and end the life that I had. It was my decision to do this no one else's.

The one last thing I have to say (ask really) before I go is directed towards my bullies, "Why? Why me?"

Sincerely,
John Fencher 

John Fencher died on May 17th, 2011. He went to Walter High School in St. Ulta, California. He was only 17 years old when he had died. This letter was received in his High School on the 18th of May. It was read on the morning announcements that day, that was John's plan. His body was found in his room that afternoon. . . . . His parents had been gone on a trip. 


This is a fictional story written by Noah Bitney 

Another Dimension

"Ahhhhhhh. What a nice day. I get to sit around the house doing nothing, no work, no chores, and nobody around to bug me all day long," I said as I sat down in my gray comfy recliner to watch a movie on the television. I have wanted some peace and quite for the longest time. I have been to busy what with the kids, work, and my wife, to just sit down and relax for a day. To just have the whole day to myself. Well today is that day. My wife took the kids to a water park, I don't have to work today, and I have rented a movie that I have wanted to see for the longest time. Today is just going to be the perfect day. I just got done making a nice large bowl of popcorn, topped with have a stick of butter, white cheddar popcorn cheese, and some M&M's for extra flavor. I haven't had this in forever because my wife would always harp on me how unhealthy it is. Well who gives a shit right? If it is good tasting, it is good eating.

"Well finally the previews are all over it!" Yeah sure the previews are the best part of the film, sometimes, but this film has been our for so long that I have already seen all of the films that they showed the previews for. This is how long I have been wanting to see this film, to god damn long that is how long. I kick my feet up in the recliner lean back, and press play on my remote. The usual MPAA rating pops up, and then all of a sudden the whole room starts to shake around me. "What the fu-!" The TV screen was growing bigger and bigger. It was coming closer and closer towards me. The room around was disappearing into a dark abyss. I tried to get up off my chair, but their was a invisible bond holding me to the chair, I could not move no matter how hard I really tried to. Then as if an electric shock was going through the chair I was in, the chair started to move closer and closer to the now wall of a movie that had started. "WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING!" I screamed at the top of my lungs. I started rocking the char because I was shaking so badly. I was scared out of my wits, and then just before I should have hit the wall of our living room I stop thinking and that is all I could remember.

"What do you think he is?"
"Do you think he is a Wender?"
I could hear voices, asking a bunch of questions, and then I opened my eyes and saw a whole bunch of people standing over the top of me in a nice summer day. The sun was shining high above all of them, but was it really the sun that was above them? It had a grayish tint to it, unlike the normal yellowish look that I am used to. "Where am I?" were the only words I could muster out. "A better question yet is, who are you?" asked a tall looking man with blonde hair standing right over me. I sat up from where I was sitting and said, "Me? My name is Franklin Craw." Everyone around me was standing around in just shorts, not any t-shirts were visible as far as I could see. The women were in bikini tops though, "Darn" I thought to myself. "Well what is your purpose here Sir Franklin Craw?" I didn't answer him right away though, I kept looking around this place and kept thinking to myself, "Where am I?" Their were no trees around, just plain dessert, and me and all of the people around me were on the only patch of green that I could see. Of what I could see though, because their were to many people around me blocking my view. "I said what is your purpose here?" said the tall man looking down on me now.

I started to stand, but the man whipped out a long staff and said, "That wouldn't be quite a great idea right at the moment Mr. Craw! Now tell me what is your purpose here?" saying the last few words while poking me with his staff. I couldn't resist not telling him why I was here, even though I didn't know myself. It was like his staff poked it out of me, "I do not know sir. I was just sitting at home alone while watching a movie, and then when it started my house started shaking. Then the chair I was sitting in was brought towards a wall which was now the TV, and now here I am not knowing where I am or who the hell you all are?" I said all of this in rapid succession. "You mean to tell me that you were teleported here from another dimension?" a voice asked from the audience. It was a voice though I recognized. It sounded so familiar, I knew I had heard it before.

"Hm, interesting," said the man who had the staff. I noticed now that he was a very built man, very powerful looking, and yet he looked really familiar too. "You may stand Sir Franklin Craw of the other dimension," said the man with the staff. I then got to my knees and stood up off the grass. Then, like someone had hit me in the head with a bat, it had slammed into my head. I knew where I was! I was inside the movie I was watching, I was in the movie called, "Year 2100!'

. . . . To be continued . . .

This is a fictional story written by Noah Bitney!

Not the average thunderstorm

Hi, my name is Damian John Rutherford. I live is Bloomers, Wisconsin, I have lived here ever since I can remember. Well since today I guess you could say. I do not think I will be living here no more after what happened today. I live on a farm you see? Well today is May 28th, 2011, and I was doing chores as usual. I was feeding the cows some food, and getting ready to milk cows as usual: putting the milkers in the right spots, filling up the food bunk so the cows can eat after they'd been milked, and the other usual stuff before we milk cows. Well all of a sudden I see this dark cloud taking over the southwestern part of the sky. I think nothing of it though you know? They had predicted thunderstorms for today on the news, so I thought that was them coming. This, though didn't look like one of them normal storms you know? The clouds seemed darker, and the wind really started to be picking up, I mean leaves were flying everywhere. I just stood their in the middle of the yard staring at this huge dark cloud. It was getting closer and closer. I could notice less bright welcoming blue sky and more darkness approaching the farm. I was the only one home too, I am 17 you see. So, I thought I had better get things done before this gets too bad, if it will get bad. I have seen a bad storm before, but I dunno? I had a funny feeling about this dark approaching cloud (well it seemed like one cloud, but I guess it might be just a whole bunch scrunched together). I finished everything I needed to get done before milking in about 15 minutes, plus I had also taken off the clothes of our clothes line, they were flopping around you see, their even was some hanging on the fence because of the wind you see. So after I had finished all that I stood out in the middle of the yard again, with my car about three yards away from me sitting next to the fence dividing our grass from the driveway. I stood their, and stared at the approaching dark cloud again. Then, all of a sudden I felt a hum in my pocket, my cell phone of course was going off. I pulled it out of my pocket, a beaten up BlackBerry Storm2 which had a dent in the right-hand side of it. I pressed the unlock button on the top left-hand side of it to see what was making all the humming. It was an alarm set for five o'clock p.m. which meant it was time to start milking the dumb-ass cows like everyday. Hm, no one was home yet which was weird though. I thought someone was supposed to help me tonight. "Oh well," I thought to myself as I put the cell back in the pocket of my sweatpants. Then I saw it as I looked up, I thought I had felt the wind pick up very drastically. A funnel was falling from the dark endless abyss that was a cloud. It was approaching the earth with every second. I stood their with shock on my face for a matter of what must have been two seconds because then I came to my sense as I heard the bark of my two dogs which both had appeared at my side. "HOLY SH-" but I didn't say anymore. I grabbed one of my dogs in arms (the one I knew was lazy and wouldn't follow), and called my other dog to follow me. I ran and ran for the front door of my house. I banged it open and ushered Lucy, the non-lazy dog, into the house. She listen, while I still had the other dog in my arms I looked back at the dark abyss with the funnel coming down out of it towards the ground, and then I saw the end of it hit the ground and everything in it's way being torn out of it's way. Then I banged open the steps to the basement, which are right next to the door I just came through. I yelled at Lucy, "Come on Lucy, go down the steps! Come on!" She then went down the steps before me. Lola, the other lazy dog, just sat in my arms shaking. We reached the basement, and I could hearing roaring sounds from above and loud noises, which I had no idea what they were coming from. I set Lola down in between my legs as I set down, and I called Lucy close to me. Then I put my arms over them and just looked down and closed my eyes. We sat their for about a total of five minutes as we heard the loud whooshing noises above us. We had no idea what was going on above. Thousands of thoughts ran through my head: Where are my parents? What about the cows? The calves? The farm? What is going to happen? Then, all of a sudden, out of nowhere all of the noises above stopped, and we were in utter silence. All I could here were the whimper of my dogs as they sat their, calm, but shaking in my arms. I then opened my eyes and looked up. Nothing was wrong (so far). All was normal down here. My dogs just sat their. The both of them curled up in their own little ball of fur. I left them be, I wanted to know what had happened to the world above. I walked up the basement steps to get to the door to see the outside. Their was a problem though, because as I rounded the corner to see the door at the top of the steps I didn't see the door. I saw the bright blue welcoming sky that I had seen not even a half-an-hour ago. I walked then, up the stairs to see the rest of the damage that had been done. I shouldn't have though, I shouldn't have walked up those steps because when I got to the top, I saw nothing. Everything had been taken, destroyed, ruined by the tornado. Their wasn't anything left for me to even see. All I could think to myself was, "That is not the average thunderstorm." 

This is a fictional story created by Noah Bitney.