EVERYONE GO LISTEN TO ME AND THE DEVIL RIGHT NOW! IT IS SUCH A GOOD AND UNDERRATED SONG LIKE IM SURE PEOPLE WOULD LOVE IT IF THEY JUST KNEW WHAT IT WAS BECAUSE ITS SO GOOD JUST AS EVERYTHING ELSE THIS BAND DOES IS
They're a Scottish rock band and they're so fucking good I cannot stress enough how amazing and underrated they are. LISTEN TO THEM. AND THEYRE SINGER IS A REALLY GENUINELY GOOD SINGER.
I don't know if this would be considered a controversial opinion but we should really start teaching kids about consent and the dangers of sexual assault from a young age, because they don't know better.
Children get sexually assaulted and don't realize that what is happening to them is wrong because majority of the time it's from someone who is older than them so they assume they know better. Sometimes it'll be someone they trusted like a family friend or relative. They think there's nothing wrong with it because if the adults doing it then it's okay. And if they don't like, they might not think they can say anything because what do they know that adults don't?
We teach kids about not getting into vans with strangers because they could get kidnapped and we sometimes even teach them about murders, because unfortunately that is a thing that could happen to them. But we don't teach them about the rules of consent and that an adult doing that to them is not okay because anything sexual is seen as "too mature" for kids to hear about. But they should hear about it because it can and does happen to them. I'm sure some parents are teaching their kids these dangers but it should be a much more common thing, because I know I wasn't taught it, and wasn't properly taught the rules of consent until a few years ago. Like, I knew and could figure out the basics, but I didnt have a proper talk about until health class in college/high school.
And getting a little personal here, but I know I would have been much better off if I knew about consent and sexual assault/harassment when I was a kid. Not getting into too many details, but I thought things were okay and didn't realize how fucked up it was because he was older and knew better, but if I knew it wasn't okay, I would have stopped it as soon as it started.
Start teaching kids about consent. Start teaching them it's never okay for an adult, no matter how trusted or how much they know them, to do things to them. Start teaching them that if it ever happens, to tell someone. You don't have to go into too much detail, just enough for them to be aware, but start teaching them to keep them safe.
Okay so real quick random not really a theory but a thing I was thinking about if that makes sense:
What if the reason Gooseworx said whoever abstracts is the least expected is because it has nothing to do with their mental state and abstracting on their own, but because the other abstracted circus members come out from the cellar and sort of "infects" one of them and causes them to abstract, just like they almost did to Ragatha (she may have just been glitching, but for all we know if she got hurt more she could have also abstracted) which would mean literally any of them could.
Okay so I don't know if this is a good idea or not, but I put a poll up and most of the 41 people who voted said yes, so I'm gonna do it anyway. This is chapter 1 of the novel I am writing, Alma's Grave (name will probably change).
I'm posting this purely to show you guys a little of it, and to get feedback and whether y'all think it is a good first chapter, and ways I can improve it or things I can/should change later on during editing to make it more interesting.
Please give honest constructive criticism if you have any, but don't be overly mean because you will hurt my feelings and I will cry (joking. Kinda)
Anyway, here it is (under the cut). It is 2269 words long.
WELCOME TO BLEAKLEYâS CEMETERY
A PLACE OF REST.
Open 24 hours to the public.
Alma stood in front of the black plaque on the cemeteryâs stone walls. There were tall black metal gates that reached about two metres high, but the âopen 24 hoursâ part of the sign implied they were rarely, if ever, closed. Alma let her gaze drift along the rest of the wall. Smaller plaques with names and dates of lost loved ones lined the stonework.Â
Alma didnât know there was a cemetery here - and in walking distance of her house too. She would have to stop by and check it out at some point, she decided. Hopefully she could remember what way it was. This wasnât her normal walking route to school, but she was grateful they had gone down this way, or else she wouldnât have discovered the cemetery.
âAlma! Hurry up and stop gawking! We got to go!â Jonathan, her foster dad, called out to her from further up the road. Alma turned and ran to catch up with him, holding onto her brown cap so it wouldnât fly off in the wind.Â
âThought you had gone paralysed for a sec there,â Jonathan was saying as she came level with him. âYou were staring at that bloody sign for like two minutes.â
She hadnât been, but Alma didnât say anything. Talking to Jonathan felt weird to her. She had been living with him and his girlfriend, Courtney, for almost a full year now but it was still rare for him to start up a conversation with her. He would be out doing whatever it was he did during the day, and kept to himself at home most of the time. Though, Alma didnât mind too much. She also liked to keep to herself.
Alma and Jonathan ended up splitting up, as Jonathan took one road to wherever he went during the day, and Alma took the other to school. Outside the school gates there were the usual friend groups waiting outside for some more of their members to show up, a duo of annoying boys snickering to themselves and showing each other what was probably school-inappropriate photos on their phones, and a few senior students standing at the entrance greeting people as they walked past. They didnât greet Alma. One of their friends had just shown up and they were too busy hugging each other like they hadnât just seen each other the day before.Â
The different route her and Jonathan had walked took longer than usual, so Alma didnât have any time to sit around before classes started as she would usually do. Her first class was art, with Ms Blake. Good.
When Alma arrived at the classroom Ms Blake was sitting at her desk typing on her computer, nodding her head up and down to the music she had playing quietly on her speakers. Slowly walking down the hall, faster than a cannonball, Oasis sang.Â
Ms Blake was probably the kindest teacher in the school. She was pretty laid back and would let the students get away with things other teachers wouldnât. Most of these things involved violations of the stupid school rules: No rain jackets in class, no excessive jewellery, no swearing, no phones whatsoever. She was less lenient on the last two, but she didnât mind if a student was simply using their phone to quickly search something up or text something important to someone, or taking photos. And in terms of swearing as long as you weren't being rude or slurring, she had no problem with it. âJust keep it within our class room,â she would always say. âItâs our little secret.â
In addition to not being overly strict, she also was a great teacher. She would explain things in a way that was easy to understand and was patient when students didnât quite get things the first few times. She would give helpful advice on how to make each student's art piece better without being mean, she cared deeply about each and every one of them and showed it, and - Alma loved this about her- when she said âbe creativeâ she actually meant it. She didnât mean it in the way some other art teachers meant it, which was usually: âBe creative, but in the exact way I tell you to do it.â
Over all, Ms Blake was the best teacher Alma had.
âGood morning, Alma,â she greeted as Alma walked in the door.Â
âMorning. I like your dress.â Ms Blake was wearing a black dress that even though she was sitting, Alma could see it reached down to her ankles. It had a thin gold band around the waist and small white specks flickered all over it. It reminded Alma of the stars and she thought it suited her teacher well. Ms Blake had long wavy black hair, that occasionally she would style back into her natural curls. Her skin was dark along with her eyes, which were a warm and friendly brown. She had a slight but still noticeable Scottish accent, evidence of her years spent growing up in the country.Â
âWhy, thank you,â Ms Blake replied, smiling brightly. âI bought it on the weekend. Iâm glad to see you like it too. Weâre just carrying on with the same work as before. The usual.â
For the past week the class had been working on three pieces of art. Each one was done on an A4 piece of paper and each piece represented a different thing. Something you wanted in the past, something you want in the present, and something you want in the future. Each piece had to be created with a different medium, but other than that, it was full creative choice. Alma was on her second paper now: the present. For her first one, she had drawn in pastels a pencil scribbling on a piece of paper. It was supposed to represent her childhood dream job of being an illustrator. Now, she had moved onto drawing with plain colouring pencils, and couldnât decide what to do.Â
What did she want now? She could think of a few things, but they all seemed too personal to put onto something that would go onto the classroom walls. Alma sat at her seat for almost a full ten minutes, staring at her empty paper trying to come up with some idea.
âStill thinking?âÂ
Alma jumped slightly as Ms Blakeâs voice startled her from behind. Ms Blake just laughed.
âSorry, didnât mean to frighten ya.â She paused for a second. âI mean, I did. But not too bad, ya know?â
âYeah.â She couldnât think of anything else to say.
âDo you need some help coming up with something? This is all about you and what you want, but I could give you pointers if you need it.â
âOkay.âÂ
Ms Blake pulled a stool over and sat next to Alma. She grabbed the first piece Alma had done and laid it out in front of her.Â
âRight, so you told me this was what you used to want to be, right?âÂ
Alma nodded.Â
âSo do you know what you want to be now, and you do that.âÂ
Alma shrugged.Â
âHavenât got that figured out yet, have ya?â
Alma shook her head.
âThatâs alright. Youâve got time. For now we can focus on the small things. Remember, this doesn't have to be something deep and meaningful, or even too personal. It can be literally anything you want right now. It could be anything from a trip to Japan to your favourite chocolate bar. So, what do you want right now?â
Alma thought hard. She knew so many things that she wanted in her life, but they all escaped her mind as she tried to focus on one thing. Maybe she was overthinking it. Think simple. She had it.
âGhostbusters merch.â Instantly she felt stupid for saying that. Ms Blake did say she could pick anything, but surely she could do better than that. But her teacher just grinned at her.
'If thatâs what you really want then do that,â she said. âOr you can try and think of something else. Whatever you want. And if youâre worried about other people judging you, donât be. More people than you think express their interests in the same way you do, and less people than you think actually care. So donât focus on whatever other people think and just focus on you.â
Ms Blake always seemed to know what Alma was thinking. She had been worried about others judging her. And every time, Ms Blake would give her some helpful words of wisdom.Â
âMiss! Can you help me!â Some kid was calling out across the class. Miss Blake raised her hand in acknowledgement.Â
âIâll be right there,â she called back and then lowered her voice back to Alma. âYou good? You think you can get this sorted?â Alma nodded, though she wasnât entirely sure. âCool.â Ms Blake hopped off of the stool and made her way over to the student in need of help, leaving Alma alone.
She spent the whole rest of the lesson circling ideas around in her head. Some were deep and personal, some were what she considered to be more silly. Good grades, John Legend concert tickets, a friend to talk to, a pet canary, mum and dad.
She settled on the canary.
â â â
The rest of Almaâs day went by without much thought. Boring classes with boring topics taught by boring teachers in a room full of probably boring people. Her usual routine was to focus on her work and get things done until she got tired of writing, and then doodle in the margins of the pages until a teacher came round, where she would then go back to doing work. Her pages were now full of rough sketches of birds, some trees and plants here and there, Egon Spengler, and some ghosts, ghouls and cryptids.Â
Like most students, interval and lunch were the only parts of the school day she looked forward to. But even then, the peace she had built for herself while sitting under the stairs was constantly being shattered by loud friend groups walking by, teachers walking up to her and asking if she was alright and Josh and Cameron.Â
Alma had no idea what about her offended Josh and Cameron so much that they felt the need to pick on her. They were jerks to other classmates, sure, but they were the worst with her. Maybe it was because she stayed quiet and kept to herself. She found that popular kids always hated that for some reason. Maybe it was because she had no friends to sit with, and they saw as an easier target without a squad to back her up and defend her. Or maybe they had just watched one too many American high school set movies and decided the bully characters were their idols. They sure acted like it.Â
Alma had noticed that it was usually Josh that made all the decisions. He was a smaller boy and wasnât that smart. Maybe he was just projecting his insecurities onto her. Cameron was bigger, stronger, and was very smart. He kind of looked like one of those snobby children Alma had seen in cartoons with his clean blonde hair. He had some of the highest grades in the class, and Alma secretly thought that he would go far in life if he stopped hanging around with losers like Josh.Â
Their taunts and insults were always the same. They came up to her, would make fun of her for either being a âlonerâ, call her weird for being so interested in âdumbâ things, and judged her for wearing the same outfit everyday: Blue jeans, plain shirt (sometimes sheâd switch it up to a graphic one), a brown leather jacket given to her by her uncle, and her brown cap she found on the ground one day and deemed clean enough to keep.Â
She was never offended by anything they said. They didnât know her well enough to really hurt her. And she found it impossible to feel bad when they made fun of her clothes, when they were objectively worse. Josh dressed in a long sleeved striped shirt that made him look even more like a 12 year old boy then he already did, and Cameron willingly chose to wear a blue polo shirt to a school with no uniform, which just solidified Almaâs view of him being a rich kid cartoon. They were still annoying though.
On her way home from school, she went the same way her and Jonathan had used to walk there and passed by the cemetery again. It looked so pretty. The grass looked so cleanly cut, with daisies and dandelions sprouting from the ground. The graves were all in perfect rows, ranging from different sizes and shapes - from rectangular ones to classic looking gravestones, and she even saw one that was in a heart shape. All in all, it was a very beautiful and peaceful looking cemetery. She wanted to go and look around, but right before school had ended she got a text from her foster mum, Courtney.Â
Can you come right home after school? I need some help cleaning around the house.Â
Another day, Alma decided. She would come by and just walk around, taking in the scenery and calmness of this resting place. Maybe take a seat somewhere in the soft looking grass and sketch the flowers or trees at the back of the cemetery grounds.Â
Just not today.Â
Please tell me honestly what you think of it, and what you think could use improvement. Again, I am open to, and encouraging and wanting, honest constructive criticism and feedback, because this is more than just writing silly stories for Tumblr.
This is the only piece of the book I will post most likely, apart from small little snippets to make jokes.
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