Young Writers Society

When are we actually starting?

Yeah I might just start typing incase we start soon

~Cameron~ (BTW i dont know what tense you want this in but imma do mine in past tense. If you want me to change it , i will ) (P.s, if im not allowed little irrelevent characters just pm me and il delete the scene)

The blue shirt was cool against my skin. I he looked down the road, regret making a lump in my throat. Regret was all I felt these days. Regret and different.
"Cameron, can you come help with the dishes?" Momma called.
"Comin'" I replied. I pulled the shirt fully on and walked into the lanky building.
The smell of apple pie was a sweet reminder of Grandma's pies.
"I just made a pie, and I need to run to the village for a bit, can ya do these?" she said happily.
"Sure, Ma." I ran the tap for about two minutes before pouring the sanitizing liquid into the sink. Every dish was perfectly dried and put away before I left to go bike riding.
The cobble stones on the road patted against my bike tires. Sun shone through the clouds, just the right temperature. The one thing out of place on the road was the old gas station. My family's place. I sped past it not wanting to see what Father had done the night before.
Everything was familiar. Except the big moving truck. A black car was in front of it, out of it a tall, muscular man came, grabbing a box from the truck. I couldn't help but stare.

Well, I guess we're starting now then
Cool.
Let's rock ^^

Well, I guess we're starting now then
Cool.
Let's rock ^^

sorry if i started too early...

Eliza-Mama-Jenkins

"I just made a pie, and I need to run to the village for a bit, can ya do these?" I ask Cameron happily. I am so proud of him lately. He'll be the making of this family, I am sure. He's going to be an electrition, you know. I grin at the thought.

Hina walks through the door, "Whatcha doin' ma?" She aks in her high, soprano voice. Her looks take after mine. She's blonde, and her skin is well tanned from the sun. She's pretty enough to be a model, if she does something besides speak in riddles. I ain't got a clue what she's saying half the time.

"Makin' a pie." A respond.

"Apple, right?" She asks.

"Yes, deary, Apple."

"Moma, do we have any nightshade around?" Her voice lifts a little. Nightshade, as everyone this side of town knows, is a lethal poison.

"Yeah, there's a little bottle in the fridge." I say. She skips over, takes it, and runs out the door. Ah, thats my Hina, always trying to poison something or someone.

Layla walks into the kitchen next. more like her father than me, her dark hair falls around her face, hilighting her blue eyes.

"Morning mom." She says.

"How's your music coming?" I ask her.

"Good, I just finished Bethoven's fith, though the middle is quite complex. The stacatto in the right hand far outwieghts the decreshendo in the left..."

"I don't understand a word your saying, sweetie. you know I don't know a flying cow about any of these music hilljillies!"

"That's okay. Just, this is more difficult than the rest of my peices." She says. I nodd. That I can understand.

~Cameron.~(In this, i tried to justify their madness by making them have a sick uncle, if you hate it, ill delete it ) (P.s. the '___' is there because I dont know the uncles name )

I rode to the shrubs where I thought he couldn't see me. After an hour of unpacking he peeled off his khaki shirt. My heart skipped a beat. He had a hard six pack and a heavenly face. I shook the thought off. Why do I feel like this? What's going on?
He entered his house, a perfect opportunity for me to leave. I stood up and rode off to the gas station. I had to face it.
Hina was at the door, a bottle of Nightshade in her hands.
"Hey, what poor little animal are you poisoning this time?" I asked sarcastically.
"Time will tell, Brother," she replied.
The doors opened squeakily. Sweat clung my fair blonde hair to my back from all the biking. The image of the man with his shirt off spread in my mind. When I saw father, I shook it away impatiently.
"Hey, Son, we have another one." I knew immediately what he meant.
I walked to the dark table. Blood covered the body that was strewn there.
We have to save Uncle ___, we have to. I remembered Moma say.
I touched my rough hand to a scalpel and sliced a line down where his heart should be. I reached inside and felt around, the heart was still faintly beating. I pulled it out gently and put it on the glass pad where dad could test the blood type.
"How is Uncle ___ doing?" I asked casually.
"His condition is spreading, he needs a new liver and some kidneys," his reply was icy, "Shit."
"What?"
"The heart doesn't match your Uncle's blood type. He hasn't got that long left and we don't get enough people round here to get the right organs in time..."
"Oh yeah!" Hina's soprano voice cried. She came running in.
"I got a big one!"
"That's... very nice," Dad said. I had to figure out some way to get more people in... but what?

Layla

I scarfed down my meal quickly, and rushed back upstairs to practice. I loved playing music, my beautiful piano took up most of my room, since no one else wanted to see it. What idiots. Also, my violin sat on my bed. Trophies from sports and music festivals alighned my walls. This was who I am.

Diedrie~

I stared outside the window, the land beyond the thin plane moved in the wind filled gusts. I sighed, I wanted to go outside, but going outside meant I would have to help Dad, and I was to squeemish when it came to blood, I could handle the luring people in part...but the blood, ech, no!

"Dear," I hear my mother call from the kitchen. Jumping down from the seat I had perched in the window I rushed into the kitchen, Layla was already sitting down and eating.

"Diedrie go call your brother and father in for pie." My mother chirped her blonde hair danced around her tan face. A lock of my own hair fall into my face. It was a mixture between my mothers fair hair and my fathers dark.

I grimaced at the thought of his work table. "Yes Mama," I added in quickly before I stepped out of the room "Do I get a peice?"

"Yes," Mama called in response chuckling softly. I walked briskly towards the work area, I could hear Cameron's and Papa's soft voices talking about blood types. I gagged as I opened the door, "Pie's ready!"

Papa and Cam both looked up from there work, "Great! This was a dead end anyway." Papa sighed wiping his blood soaked hands on his trousers. "We need another person Dear, would you and your sisters find someone."

"The towns folk don't like us going near their turf," I sighed avoiding eye contact with Cam. I knew he was telling me to stop back sashing our father.

"I don't care, we need a victim for your Uncle and thats final!"

**I hope this okay! Ooo this family is gruesome, haha!

~Cameron~

"I don't care, we need a victim for your Uncle and thats final!"
"Dad, calm down. I'll come with you Diedre," I said trying to ease the tension. Dad's complexion returned to the chirpy olive and we sat down. The pie was warm and sweet, steam wared the air around it.
"What'd you get up to today, Cam?" Moma asked.
"I went for a bike ride and saw a moving truck. A guy moved in just down the road." I replied. Dad looked up.
"He's really buff though, I wouldn't bother." He looked back to the mush he had created. Hina looked at me, her eyes seeming to pierce into my thoughts.
"An eye for an eye," she said mysteriously.
"What?" everyone else seemed to say in unison.
"An eye--dont' bother..."
"Okay," I said laughing. After pie I went to my room and grabbed out my withered sketch book. I flicked through the pages of disheveld bodies and faces with cuts and bruises. A fresh page greeted me with a fresh smell. I started sketching what I remembered from the man from the down the road's face. His perfect, dark eyes, his angelic lips. I moved on to his torso. His abs and finished with the gym shorts leaving the legs off.
My ears filled with the sound of tearing paper. I crumpled ant tore the page into a neat ball, threw it into my trash can, and forgot all about it. Like I did with everything I coudn;t stand facing.
"Draw it and dump it," I said to the empty room.

Hina: The pie was delicious, even if I did get a bit of fox blood on it. I didnt mind the blood, though, it actually gave the pie a little more...taste. Almost everyone went to their room, but Papa was talking about Uncle Freddy((I temporaily named him...if thats okay)). " I could get someone for him Papa. Hina is not afraid." He came over to pet me on the head, the signal that I should go. I pouted and walked to the front door. " The tiger goes to cath it's prey," I started in a quiet, high pitched voice. "Waiting, lurking, savoring the day. The right chance to strike will come soon. Let us just hope the killing won't be creul. The tiger waits with searching eyes. None of the victims have any place to hide." I waited a few moments before skipping out into the forest.

Dale Groh:

I breathed out, the sound of my exhalation coinciding with the sound of the moving truck as it rumbled down the lonely highway, stirring up a cloud of dust that seemed to punctuate the desolation. Not quite able to focus my thoughts on just what the hell I thought I was doing by moving out to this ghostly stretch of nowhere anyway, I gave the slowly settling dust cloud one more look before turning my back to the beautiful orange sunset in the west. In turning around, I was greeted with the sight of my newly purchaced home. The greying shutters were falling off in places and the once cheerful yellow paint was now almost completely chipped off. The drooping slope of the front deck, combined with the dull lustre of the newspapered windows gave the place a dejected look, like it was frowning at me. I walked into the mouth of the beast, and found myself in the entrance way. Directly ahead was a set of stairs heading upstairs, to the right was the dining room, and to the left was the living room. I headed left and fell into one of the chairs I had just finished moving in a few hours before.
"Home, sweet home."
Could I ever see it that way? I sure hoped so. I let my head flop lazily to the left, where I began to stare out of a tear in the newspaper covering the window (making a mental note to tear it down after my rest) and into the distance where I could just make out the big old Victorian that had drawn me to this isolated little shack in the first place. I'd seen a teenaged, muscular looking, not unattractive blond boy ride by on his bike a little while back and it was at that moment I really realized exactly what I was getting myself into; I was going to watch this family until I finally understood all the rumors, the rumors that couldn't possibly be true, how could they? the rumors that intrigued me so, mostly because I had nothing better to do with my life but also because if they were true... well, I had a morbid streak that drew me to all that was sick in the world. It didn't mean I liked it, but it was true. And I had to get to the bottom of this.

**By the way guys, Uncle Freddy's a fine name if you guys all think so and adding random insignificants are perfectly fine too.**

~Cameron~

His shirt was intwined between my fingers. Sweat covered my face and the smell of passion filled the air I breathed.

I shot up on my small bed. He was filling my dreams, my thoughts. I almost screamed. I needed something to do -- get someone for Uncle ___ -- so I could get my mind off him.
I grabbed my bike and headed for the Laytons' farm. I would get the brother. A ghost of a smile twitched at the corners of my lips. I imagined cutting into Jack Layton's skin, removing his liver, his heart. Son of a bitch.