Just thought I'd upload some things I wrote 
. Please be gentle 
This is something I wrote on my own. I really like HP Lovecraft's stories and tried to sort of write a story like he would :happy: .
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Dream Wall
If you are reading this then I am dead, my life taken by my own hands. But please do not judge me. Over the last couple of days, events occurred that are beyond my understanding and beyond the scope of the science of human beings. I am writing this account of those events in the hopes that it will be an asset to the future in helping to understand these types of things. By the time you are done reading this account, I hope you will understand why I am going to kill myself and even maybe forgive me for the sin I am about to commit. And may God himself forgive me.
I am Dr. Phillip Harris, a professor of oneirology, or the study of dreams, at Miskatonic University in Arkham, Massachusetts. I have studied dreams for all my life, and consider myself an expert on the subject but the events that occurred over the past few days have baffled me as to their circumstances and occurrence.
On the evening of October 10, 1927 I was doing a lecture about lucid dreaming at the university. After the lecture, as everyone was filing out of the room, I was approached by Edward Jacobs, one of my students. Edward was one of the best students in my class and it was always a pleasure to grade his papers because of how well he understood the concepts being taught. On this evening asked if he could talk to me and I agreed. He told me of a recurring dream he had been having for the past couple of weeks.
He explained the dream in a great deal of detail. After he falls asleep he is in a completely white space, no structures or anything. He looks around and is terrified at what he finds behind him. Rising as high as the eye can see and fading into the distance on both sides is a monstrous wall of white brick. The size of this wall cannot be measured and Edward believes that it stretches to infinity in all three directions, but cannot give a reason for this line of thinking. He stares at this horrible wall feeling an intense sense of terror at its tremendous size. He then proceeds to approach it, the feeling of dread growing ever stronger. A hand reaches out in front of him and he realizes its source. His hand touches the terrible wall and finds it to be ice cold, chilling him to the very soul; itās smooth like metal despite being made of brick. Then, unconsciously he begins knocking on the wall, not being able to control the falls of his hands. He wants to stop it for some reason he does not fully understand, as if something behind the wall will hear and react. Each knock is deafening, echoing as many as fifteen times through the empty abyss. And then, on the third knock, Edward says he wakes up in a cold sweat.
This wall interests me because of its apparent symbolism. Dreams often use symbols to mimic real life problems, such as dreaming of driving a car and suddenly losing control. This dream uses the symbol of a car going out of control as a sign that you subconsciously believe you have no control over your life. There are many different explanations for dreaming about a wall, but I have never heard of a dream containing a wall that goes on forever in every direction. The knocking on the wall also interests me. First is that the knocks are so loud that they echo a substantial amount of time. Second, what could be the reason for there being three knocks?
I told him that I had no explanation for his dream, no symbols that I could explain. He looked disturbed at not being able to understand his own dream and I couldnāt stand such a great student not being able to explain the effects of the science he is studying on his own life. I decided that I would help him study this dream, as I would like to understand it as well. Miskatonic University has an extremely advanced sleep lab, being able to study the brainwaves during sleep and even a method to induce a lucid dream. A lucid dream is a dream where the dreamer is in control of his or her dream world, able to manipulate and bend it to their will. I told Edward of my plans and he thanked me from the bottom of his heart. Now, as a recall the events that were triggered by this simple experiment, I wish to God that I hadnāt done it.
In order to augment the advanced technology of the Miskatonic sleep lab I told him of a machine that I have been building since 1922. The machine is sort of like a microphone that can enable a person that is asleep to communicate with the waking world, but only if the sleeping person is experiencing a lucid dream. Through my studies I have found that the frontal lobe of the cerebral cortex, the part of the brain responsible for speech, continues to work during REM sleep, although very slightly. This is the reason people sometimes talk in their sleep, but a lot of what they're saying in their dream is not expressed strong enough in this part of the brain to have it expressed through the mouth.. What my machine does is amplify this, allowing the speech of a dreaming person to be heard in the waking world through a speaker.
The next day, October 11, 1927, Edward accompanied me to the Miskatonic dream lab. I set him up on one of the tables and attached wires to him to be able to monitor his brain waves. I then proceeded to hook up the object that would trigger a lucid dream. This is a small object that is placed around one of the subject's fingers that, while dreaming, I will trigger to induce a lucid dream. In order to experience a lucid dream, the dreamer must be aware that he is dreaming. In order to do this, we flow an electric current to the subject's finger, just enough to allow them to realize that they are dreaming but not enough to wake them up. Finally, I hooked up my own invention that would allow me to communicate with Edward while he is dreaming. It's a single wire that is attached to the subject's forehead and will pick up even the smallest workings of the cerebral cortex, translating it, and transmitting it through the speaker. Edward is able to hear me if I just speak normally.
With Edward hooked up to all the systems, we commenced the experiment. It took a while for him to fall asleep with all the wires attached to him, but after a little before an hour he was unconscious. I monitored Edward's brain waves as they traveled from light sleep to REM, and when he entered REM I triggered the electric shock that would alert him to his dreaming. A few minutes after the shock I heard from the speaker on my machine the first words ever picked up from a sleeping person. He asked me is I could hear him and I answered in the affirmative. I then asked him what he saw.
Edward replied that it was an empty void, white all around and it felt as if the world was flowing, not quite solid. He looked at his hands and replied that his fingers were stretching ever so slightly. I told him to experiment with his power of manipulation and he replied that he could lift up into the air, he summoned a chair, and other awe-inspiring feats. He then proceeded to look around and told me all he saw was white until he turned around.
A few seconds past and I began to get worried whether I had lost contact with Edward, but then a noise came from the speaker. I spoke to him, trying to get him to talk to me again and then disjointed words began leaking from the speaker as if trying to form a sentence. Again I tried to talk to him and asking what he sees and was answered by two words: a wall.
I asked him to look around in all directions to see if he could find an end and was told there was no end as far as he could see. I then asked him to walk in a direction to see if he could eventually find one, but after two hours with no response I told him to stop. Being a dream, lucid even, Edward should be able to control his dream as he did earlier and make the wall disappear so I told him to give it a shot.
To no avail he replied the wall wasn't doing anything no matter how he tried. The only thing left to do was to use force. I relayed to Edward my line of thinking and he accepted it. He told me that he was going to try and knock it down with a sledge hammer that he had produced. Some time passed, how much I'm not entirely sure, but I remember when he broke through.
A loud screech flew from the microphone, almost causing me to lose my balance and I started yelled at Edward asking him what happened but was met with no response. I rushed to his sleeping body and began shaking him out of his sleep and succeeded. What happened next startled me. Edward jumped up and was screaming and running backward. I could make out only a few words, something that sounded like "Get away" like I was going to hurt him.
He huddled up against the wall and I managed to have him acknowledge me and he stopped screaming. I tried to talk to him, to ask him what happened but he wouldn't say anything. He was visibly shaking, trembling with fear; of what I do not know for sure even now.
I took him home to my house, believing he was not fit to travel home. I fell asleep at around eleven, but I'm not sure that Edward would sleep. Early in the morning, before sunrise, I was awakened by loud thumps coming from Edward's room. When I got to his door it was locked and I could still hear noises coming from the room. I slammed up against it several times and eventually it gave way. What I saw chilled my blood ; Edward was curled up in the corner of the room whimpering and crying. When I looked up there was a knife embedded into the wall with a dozen other puncture marks all around it.
Something had frightened him, enough to believe he could injure it. I feared that my experiment on Edward had destroyed his mind driven him insane. By light of his outburst I couldn't let him walk freely anymore as he could injure himself or others. For this reason I committed him to Arkham Asylum and began writing a letter to his parents inform them of their son's state.
As I was finishing the letter I received a call from the asylum telling me to come right away, though I was not informed for what reason. Upon my arrival I was informed of the death of Edward and almost collapsed to the floor, my knees losing strength. Wanting to know how it happened they said to see for myself as they had no idea how Edward was killed.
Finally reaching his cell, I peered inside immediately recoiled in disgust. Even now trying to interpret what I saw and how I felt at that moment causes my hand to tremble. Someone that wasn't there and didn't see the body will never know the full extent of the terror and loathing felt at the sight of such grotesqueness.
Edward was lying at the back of the room, leaning against the wall. Bloodā¦ there was blood everywhere. Before that incident I could not imagine a human being could hold so much blood. His neck... or lack thereof was the worst of the sight, it was the worst thing I had ever seen. It was as if he ripped his own throat out but... it was so deep, I don't believe there was any way for Edward to have been able to do that to himself. At least all of it. He eyes were glazed over in fear, deep scratches ran the length of his face. His mouth was frozen in a silent scream.
The image is now burned into my mind and there is no way to forget it. If you had seen it you would understand. I do not believe that Edward killed himself, as insane as that sounds. I probably belong in an asylum as much as Edward did. But just thinking of what killed Edward, if it indeed wasn't himself, brings up dreaded thoughts of things I read about in the Necronomicon, by the mad Arab Abdul Alhazred.
Whatever killed Edward, I hope to God I never find out. There are some things in this world that should never be discovered though the want to know everything is great. Knowledge is like a drug, you need more and more of it after you've gotten a taste. That is one flaw of the human race: they crave knowledge even if it will bring their downfall. The advancement of science and the craving of more and more knowledge will eventually bring the downfall of humanity. There is no doubt in my mind. And I don't want to be around when it happens.
My thirst for knowledge overpowered my thoughts and now it is too late. A boy, one of my students, is dead and I am the cause. I allowed something it be let loose in Edward's mind and it led to his death, either by his own hand or... something else. I cannot live any longer with these two factors crowding my thoughts.
Perhaps now you realize the reason for my actions, maybe not condoning them but at least accepting them. May God, if he exists, have mercy on my soul.[/hide]
This one's a script I wrote for a class at my school.
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Solitary Russian Roulette
Scene 1 āFiredā
Jack Taylor is a columnist for a weekly newspaper. He waits for the bus outside of his house and rides it to work. He has a wife but no children and is bored with his life. The bus arrives and he boards it. He sits near the back and stares out the window. The bus passes Maxās Drug Store and Jack looks inside at the person at the counter. There are 4 people in line but the person behind the counter is on her cell phone.
Jack Taylor
Stupid kid, do your job like the rest of the world.
The bus stops at Jackās stop and he gets off. Heās wearing a suit and is carrying a briefcase. He walks inside and sits down at his computer. He leans back and puts his feet on the table.
Jack Taylor
Damn job, wish I could quit but I donāt know how Iād live without the money. He continues to relax when his boss comes over.
Boss
To Jack. Jack, what are you doing? Startled, Jack falls out of his chair. What are you doing? Get back to work! Youāre already behind by three columns!
Jack Taylor
Monotonic. Yes sir, sorry sir, wonāt happen again sir. He gets back up and starts typing on his computer.
Boss
Starts to walk away but a few seconds later he turns around. Oh yeah, and Jackā¦ Jack is back with his legs on the table and leaning back.
Jack Taylor
Sorry boss, Iāll get to work right away. He leans forward and begins typing on the computer.
Boss
You know what, Jack? Donāt bother, youāre fired. You can finish out the day and collect your paycheck at the end. He turns around and walks away.
Jack Taylor
Thanks boss; youāll have the column by this aftā¦ He whips around. Wait what? Fired? He jumps up and runs after his boss. But sir I need this job, I canāt live without it. My wife doesnāt work and I have to support her and I canāt do that without this job. Sir, please.
Boss
Turning around. Well you know what, Jack? Thatās not my problem. You shouldāve thought about that before you didnāt do your job. Iām sorry to have to do this Jack, you were a good worker but lately youāve been slacking off. Goodbye Jack. He turns around and goes into his office.
Jack
He goes back to his computer and puts his head down for the rest of the day. What the hell am I going to do?
Scene 2 āMuggedā
Itās 8:00 PM. The day is over and Jack walks out the front door of the place where he works. He doesnāt want to wait for the bus and decides to walk home. He walks past Maxās Drug Store, stops, and looks inside with a sad look. The people inside are closing the store. Jack continues walking and soon realizes that there are people, 3 of them, following him. He looks over his shoulder and they smile at him. They walk faster and manage to make Jack go into an alley to the left.
Guy #1
Hey, man. Got any money we could have? This guy here - points to another guy -needs an operation.
Guy #2
Yeah, Iām really sick. He coughs a couple times and they all start to laugh.
Jack Taylor
Noā¦ sorry I donāt have any moneyā¦ Starts to walk away
Guy #1
Hey, hey man, get back here. Weāre serious.
Jack Taylor
Continues walking but stops dead in his tracks when he hears the sound of a gun being cocked. He puts his hands up and turns around to a gun in his face. Okay, guys here. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his check. This is all I have.
As he hands the guy his check with the other hand he draws back and hits him in the face. The guy drops the gun and falls to the ground but the one of the other guys hits Jack in the face with brass knuckles and he falls to the ground on his hands and knees and drops his briefcase. The other guy kicks Jack in the ribs. They continue to beat him for another few minutes and then leave, taking Jackās briefcase. Jack lies on the ground, a bloody pulp, for 20 minutes and then gets up and continues home.
Scene 3 āNothing Leftā
Jack manages to stumble up his front steps. He reaches into his pocket and pulls the key to his front door out. A close-up of Jackās hand as he hesitates before putting the key in the door.
Jack Taylor
About his wife. What am I going to tell her? āHey, honey I just lost my job and was beaten up for the last paycheck I hadā. He laughs to himself about the idea.
Jack puts the key in the lock and enters his house. His wife comes to meet him at the door.
Wife
Welcome homā¦ Oh my God! Jack, what happened to you!? Come here, sit down. She ushers him into the kitchen and pulls a chair out.
Jack sits down and prepares to break the news to her. She sits down at the table with him, eagerly awaiting his story.
Jack Taylor
Wellā¦ I was mugged on the way home for work. His wife is shocked at this revelation. Yeah, they took my check and then beat me to a bloody pulp. His wife looks puzzled. What is it?
Wife
Well, why did you get your check today?
Jack Taylor
Iā¦ I was fired today. It was my last paycheck and they took it. His wife has a disgusted look on her face. Please donāt look at me like that.
Wife
How the hell could you get fired!? We need that money to live! I knew I should have listened to my mother. She warned me you were a piece of trash, but I didnāt listen. Jack, Iām leaving.
She packs up her things and leaves. She slams the door on her way out, leaving Jack alone wondering how heās going to keep on living with nothing left.
Scene 4 āSuicideā
A shot of the outside of Jackās house, all the lights are out except the living room light. Cut to the living room and Jack sitting on the couch, a cigarette, a lighter, a glass of whisky, a .32 revolver, and a bullet.
Jack
Well, this is it. This is how my life ends.
Jack reaches for the cigarette and the lighter. He lights the cigarette in a cupped hand and smokes it until thereās nothing left to smoke. He tosses the butt to the floor.
Jack
What the hell? Right?
He then picks up the glass of whisky and swallows it all in one gulp. He sets the glass neatly on the table, laughing at it since he just threw the cigarette butt on the ground. His hands, now shaking, reach for the gun and the single bullet. He opens up the revolver and puts the round inside. He shuts it and holds it with both hands. Slowly he raises the gun to his mouth and places it inside. His hands are shaking terribly.
Jack
Thinking. Itāll all be over in a second. The gunāll fire and thatāll be it.
Jack takes a deep breath, closes his eyes, and puts his hand on the trigger. Zoom in on the trigger. Jack slowly depresses the trigger and pulls it all the way. The gun clicks but thatās it.
Jack
Whispering. Noā¦ no, - Progressively getting louder ā No, No, No, No, NO, NO, NO! He throws the gun against the wall, putting a hole in it. WHAT THE HELL IS THE CHANCE OF THAT!? THE BULLET I PICK IS A GODDAMMED DUD!!?
Jack slumps forward and puts his hands on the sides of his head. A smile rises to his lips.
Jack
Laughing. Itās a miracle. It canāt be a coincidence, itās a miracle. Why? Why not just let me die? I donāt deserve a miracle, thereās plenty other people in the world that deserve a miracle more than I do, why me? He stands up. I need to go for a walk.
Jack walks out the front door of his house and walks down the street, unknowingly the way he went ever day to his work. A few minutes later he arrives at Maxās Drug Store. He looks up at the sign, dumbfounded at how he ended up here. He looks inside but no oneās inside. The person at the counter is reading a magazine.
Jack
I pass this store every day and have never been inside. Well, what other time but the present?
Scene 5 āIdea and Preparationā
Jack pushes the door to the drug store open and is startled by the bell on the door. He looks back and then turns back forward.
Person At Counter
In a monotone voice without looking up from his magazine. Welcome to Maxās Drug Store, sir.
Jack
Distractedly. Yeahā¦ you tooā¦
He wanders the aisles just looking, trying to take his mind off what has happened during the last day. A voice echoes in his head and it takes 3 tries before he hears it.
Person At Counter
Sir. If youāre not going to buy something then I need you to leave. Weāre closing in 5 minutes.
Jack
Yeahā¦ sorry, right away. He walks up to the counter and picks up a candy bar. Iāll take this. The person takes the candy bar and rings it up.
Person At Counter
Thatāll be $1.50, sir.
Jack reaches into his pocket and takes out two dollar bills. The person at the counter opens up the cash register revealing the money inside. Jack notices the hundreds of dollars inside and begins thinking of how nice it would be to have all that money. He gets lost in his own mind untilā¦
Person At Counter
Dreamily. Sir ā Beginning to get more normal. Sir, hereās your change. Sir.
Jack
Snapping out of it. Yeah, yeah. Thanks. He takes his change and, turns around, and begins walking out of the store.
Person At Counter
Please come again sir.
The camera focuses on Jackās face as he walks out of the store. A smile comes across his face as he starts to plan a way to get that money.
Jack
Donāt worry, I will.
Jack takes a left out of the store and returns to his house. He finds his .32 and a box of bullets and places them on the table in the living room. He then goes to his bedroom and gets a sweater with a hood and places it with the gun. Jack, the thoughts about tomorrow rushing through his head, walks to his bedroom and falls on the bed. He raises his hands to behind his head and a smile slowly rises on his face.
Jack
Tomorrowās gonna be a busy day.
Scene 6 āFollow Throughā
Jack wakes up at noon in anticipation of later in the day. He stalls himself in order to let more people through the store so that there will be more money in the cash register. At 6:00 PM he walks into the living room and picks up the revolver. He takes 6 rounds out of the ammo box and places them in the chamber of the weapon. He shuts and spins the chamber of the gun, laughing, as he places the remaining rounds, still in the box, in his pocket. He then picks up the sweater and puts it on. He puts the gun in the pocket of the sweater and walks through the front door towards the drug store.
Jack
No turning back now.
He arrives at the store and outside puts the hood over his head. He walks into the store and heads towards the back. He picks something out, doesnāt really matter, and goes up to the counter. He places the candy bar on the counter and when the cashier opens up the register he pulls the gun out.
Jack
Pointing the gun at the cashierās head. Donāt move or push the alarm or Iāll put a hole right between your eyes. He smiles and reaches for the money. He stuffs his pockets and then starts filling a grocery bag with money he couldnāt fit in his pockets. You got a safe?
Person At Counter
Ye- yeah, please man donāt hurt me I got a wife and 2 ki-
Jack
If you follow my instructions you wonāt get hurt. How much money is in the safe?
Person At Counter
Thr- Three-hundred dollars.
Jack
Good, open it and take the money out. The man turns around and uncovers a safe. He opens it and takes out the money. He turns around and hands it to Jack. Good, nowā¦
Sirens echo in the distance and a look of horror flashes on Jackās face. He turns to the person at the counter with a look of sadness on his face. The cashierās face turns into a nervous sneer.
Person At Counter
I- Iām sorry man, I pushed the alarm when you walked intoā¦
Jack
I TOLD YOU NOT TO TOUCH THE ALARM, DAMN YOU!
Jack raises the revolver, his hands shaking, and fires. The cashierās face freezes into a look of surprise and his lifeless body slumps back onto the wall behind him. Blood runs down his face and drips to the floor. Jack comes out of his rage and looks at the corpse of the cashier leaning on the wall behind the cash register. His face is of shock and sadness.
Jack
Iā¦ killed him. Iām a murderer. He stumbles backward and falls on the floor. He drags himself to the far wall and tries to go further but he canāt. He gags a couple of times and then vomits onto the floor next to him, not able to stand looking at the dead cashier. He- he didnāt do anything, he just did what he was trained to do. He had a wife and two kids for Godās sake. He drops the gun in front of him and grabs his head with his hands. He shakes his head back and forth slowly and his eye catches the shine of the gun. He picks it up and looks at it. This is the answer, I canāt keep on living now, thereās no way. The first time was a fluke, thatās it. No miracle, thereās no way God would save me just so I could kill this innocent kid. The camera focuses on the dead cashier. I donāt deserve to go to Heaven, so it doesnāt matter if I kill myself or not.
Jack slowly moves his hands over the gun, seeming to admire it. He then turns the gun around and places it into his mouth. His hands are not shaking this time, he is no longer afraid to die. There is no hesitation this time, he quickly pulls the trigger. The screen cuts to black and then the gunshot is heard and rings out for a few seconds.
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Here's a children's story I wrote for that class too.
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The Little Acorn
Author and Illustrator
Kairouseki
Once upon a time there was a little acorn hanging on the branch of a mighty oak tree. One day there was a strong wind storm and the acorn fell from his branch. He fell and fell for what seemed like forever, and then he suddenly stopped falling. He had hit the ground and it was his turn to grow.
A few years passed and the mighty oak that had been the acornās home was cut down and now the acorn has become a sprout. He was not alone though; there were many trees scattered around the small sprout that had grown with him.
They had grown much faster than the little spout and were now fully grown. The little sprout was sad that he was so small. One day the little sprout was admiring how tall the other trees were. He said to one of them, āWow, I wish I were as tall as you guys. I wonder if I ever will.ā This simple and complimentary statement was met with the reply, āYou, a short sprout, will never be as tall as us. You shouldnāt even think you have a chance.ā The little sprout was as sad as ever now and thought he would never grow tall. He stayed quiet and never tried to talk to the trees again.
Many, many years passed. Above, the sun and moon circled the sky, exchanging places, thousands of times and the clouds grew dark and rained over the world. Over the years the trees that surrounded the little sprout were cut down or died of natural causes.
The little sprout grew and grew and was now a mighty oak tree like the one the little acorn fell from long ago. He had outgrown the trees that were once taller then him and had lived longer then any of them too. He will continue to live for many more years. He was finally tall, in spite of what the other trees said, and was happy.
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Formating all this text is rediculous 
. I couldn't remember what color is the default. And just to let you guys know that I'm not planning on writing anymore anytime soon. I'll upload more once I right them, though :happy: .
