Storybook Central

Short stories, on-going tales, little tidbit nonsense humor, creepy horror wannabe novels. I will write them... or at least I will try. Gonna post something everyday!

[justcatposts]

game time (via: @brittanynlau)

[lifeinlowkey]

You coward, you ended the video early because you didn’t want to admit defeat.

[theitalianscrub]

A crushing victory

[storybook-central]

Hands

Hello.

You can’t see it. But I’m reaching out to you. I’m asking you to help me, but I can’t say it. I’m not good with talking. I’m better with writing. Ask me to write you something and I can do it. I can tell you an entire story with my hands, but my mouth doesn’t say all the words that are in my mind. I just want you to hold my hand, but I know that you have better things to do than stay by my side all the time.

I don’t mind. I’m sure I have better things to do with my time than just waiting for you to reach out to me. I could go to work and do my job. I do it everyday anyway. I might as well do it for the rest of my life. I get money, I get experience, I get everything I’m suppose to have, but for some reason, I always feel like something is missing. I don’t know what it could be. I just want to understand why I feel this way. 

Will you reach out to me and lead the way? Lead me away from these feelings. Will you take my hand and help me feel the happiness that I so want? Or are you just going to leave me alone like everyone else has done? I am quiet. I am reserved. I don’t talk a lot because I’m never heard. I stay quiet so that I don’t feel disappointed about not being heard. 

All I want is someone to hold my hand and help me feel happiness. I want to feel love. Hold my hand. Pet my hair. Hold me close. Show me the happiness I want without making me uncomfortable. But if you can’t, that’s okay too. I’ll just wait here for someone else to come along. You aren’t the first one to reject me and I know you won’t be the last. It’s useless for me to keep hoping for someone to reach out to me when no one else can see me, but I know someday I’ll find someone who is reaching out for someone just like I do everyday. 

Until that day, I’ll just be here. As always. Reaching out for someone to hold my hand. Knowing that no one else will take it and lead me away from this feeling that I have. But that’s okay. Everyone else has their own lives to lead and I should get along with my life too. I hope you have a wonderful life filled with happiness and contentment. 

Good bye. 

[storybook-central]

My Little Friend (Part Two)

I am exhausted right now. I really just want to go to bed, but if I’m actually going to be seriously doing this I really want to get into the habit of posting something once a day. So I’m going to start on another part for My Little Friend. Hopefully I can get to the part that actually happened in my dream. It was a really creepy dream, but it is really awesome. So here is the next part. Hopefully it all makes sense... I’m everywhere today.

*------------*

In Grace’s room, there were some toys sitting in a circle. There was a small brown haired crocheted doll, a little handheld wooden rocking horse, and a few knitted clothes and other accessories for the doll. Around the small doll’s neck was a child’s bracelet braided together with three strings and held together with a small pendant. Grace picked up the doll and inspected it closely. She gently took the bracelet off of the doll and marveled at the red, black and brown strings that held it all together. She smiled, sliding it over her wrist. 

Suddenly, a burning sensation erupted from Grace’s wrist where the bracelet hit. Grace gasped in pain and began trying to take the string off. It reminded her of the one and only time she accidentally touched the stove top when it was on and burnt her hand. Grace’s wrist had begun turning red and was beginning to be littered with several blisters when a voice hit her ears. 

“Those are my toys.” Grace looked around her, trying to find where the voice had been coming from, but could not see anything. A burning smell began to fill the room as she continued trying to remove the bracelet. Over the sound of her own blood pumping past her ears, she could faintly hear the sound of sizzling coming from her wrist and fingers. 

Tears began to fall from her face as the bracelet continued to burn through her skin and started trailing up her arm. Grace began screaming in pain. “Stop!” She screeched. From the other room, Grace could faintly hear Sarah calling out to her, asking her what was happening. Grace stood up, shakily trying to make her way to the door. She could see Sarah quickly stalking up the hall with a panicked look. 

Sarah saw the redness on her arm and swiftly, the stalk-like walk turned into a a sprint. As Grace held her arms out to Sarah to have her help in whatever way she could, her door slammed shut with an inhuman amount of force. Grace screamed, both in fear and in continued pain. She slammed her small burnt hands against the door, sobbing for help from Sarah. Grace could feel Sarah banging against the door, trying to break in. She could hear the handle rattling, but no matter how she tried, the door wouldn’t budge. 

Grace’s entire arms was almost completely red and blistered by the time the voice spoke again. “You shouldn’t have played with my toys.” Grace sluggishly turned around, tears and snot running down her face. Before her stood a little girl, maybe around the same age as Grace. She had brown hair, pale cracking skin and a cream and maroon colored dress on. Grace let out another particularly loud sob. 

“I-I’m sorry!” She cried out to the mysterious little girl. “I-I wanted to p-play with them.” She held out her hands to the girl in front of her, specifically the one with the burning bracelet. “Take it back. I’m sorry.” It was barely a whisper that came out of her mouth before she felt herself fall forward towards the little girl. 

The last thing Grace thought before she fell into a suffocating darkness was that she wished she could have had her mother with her and that she could have had all of her toys from her old house.

*---------*

I wrote this pretty fast. Sorry if it seriously has like a lack of feeling. I am a literal zombie on my feet right now. I seriously need some sleep or something. Did a bunch of running around today with my mom and hauled a bunch of potatoes around. Also managed to get myself sick again. My throat is killing me, my nose is killing me, my neck is stiff, my head hurts, and I just want sleep right now. So I promise I’ll try and do better tomorrow sometime after I get a good amount of good sleep. 

So anyway, please like it if you want me to keep going or message me an idea for some story you would like to see maybe happen. I’m not good on requests or deadlines. So what you see is basically what you get. Thanks again.

G’Night everyone!

[storybook-central]

My Little Friend (Part One)

Alright. So this story was actually a dream I had last night. (This part of the story wasn’t actually what my dream was. I’ll say what it was when we get to the part) Made me wake up at 5 in the morning because of it. Its a horror story about a little girl. I didn’t like this idea this morning, but its actually a pretty neat idea. So here it is.

*-----------*

Grace was a normal eight-year-old girl. Her family, however, wasn’t the most normal. Her mom and dad got into a lot of fights and Grace didn’t like it. Dad always came home smelling weird, he would get really loud and liked throwing and breaking things. Mom would always be trying to make him stop, to quiet down, but that always just made him louder. Grace hated the yelling, she hated the sound of the furniture breaking, she just wanted to run and leave so she didn’t have to hear any of it.

One day, her mom apparently thought the same thing. She got tired of her husband. She took Grace, took a suitcase, packed a few clothes for both of them and left with the car, leaving everything else behind them. They went to a small town a few hours away and Grace’s mom talk with a friend of hers to try and find a house or someplace that they could live in. Mom’s friend, a lady named Sarah, told them about a house that was really cheap on rent and was really old. Not a lot of people actually wanted to stay in the house because creepy and scary things always started happening. 

After what happened with dad and mom’s fights, Grace didn’t think a scary house could be any worse than that. The first day there, Grace’s mom asked Sarah to watch Grace while she went out to find a job. Grace was happy to be in their new house. It looked really nice. The floors were all hardwood, the walls were smooth and had cool paintings placed on them, and the kitchen was really great. It was a lot better than her old house. But every once in a while, during the time that Sarah was watching her, she would hear something coming from the other room, from her room. Grace asked Sarah if she heard the noises, but she said she didn’t. She was watching something on her phone and wasn’t paying that much attention.

So, being the curious little child she was, Grace went to her room and looked inside for anything that could be making the noise, but all there was in the room was her bed, her clothes on the ground and a few toys placed in a circle in the middle of her floor. It was almost like someone had placed them there after playing with them. However, the only flaw in this idea was... Grace didn’t have any toys. When she and her mom left their old house, Grace didn’t grab any toys at all. She figured maybe Sarah or her mom had brought over some. So she was happy to play with the toys. Especially because while she was playing with them, she made a new friend.

*----------*

Welp... I guess this is just going to be the first part of the story. i’ll make another part of it tomorrow. I totally need some sleep right now. I started writing this when I was in church this morning. So I have no idea where I was going with this when I stopped writing. So I’ll figure it out tomorrow. Accidentally posted this first under the wrong tumblr, but I got it right this time. 

Basically, this was all just setting up for the rest of the story. I have an idea that could totally lead into another cool idea that I’ve had for a while but we will see what happens. 

Stay tuned for the next part!

[storybook-central]

Alone in the Dark

Rain is falling. It makes little noise as it hits the ground​ around me. I am lying on the cement in a puddle of freezing rain water. I don't understand why I am there, but its cold and numbing, just like the night sky that seems endless above me.

A drop of rain hits my eye and I close them. When I open them back up, the rain has stopped. My eyes focus. There is a person standing above me, dressed in a black hoodie pulled up covering their face, along with dark jeans and skater shoes. They are holding a large black umbrella that looks very torn up, but still gives me shelter from this storm that I'm caught in. I can barely see anything and I don't understand why they are there, but I feel safe under this person's umbrella.

I open my mouth to speak to the person, but I begin coughing instead. The cold is really getting to me. I can't feel my toes. I can't feel my fingers. All I want is to be warm. I want the cold to go away. Why won't it go?

The person slowly kneels down beside me and puts their hand on mine. Their hand is almost as cold as mine, but even so, the slight bit of warmth that comes from them is comforting. I want to move my hand to squeeze theirs, but I can't move at all.

With every second that goes by, I realize its getting harder and harder to breathe. Why is it so hard to breathe? Why am I so cold? Why can't all of this just stop? The prickling pain of the rain surrounding me is torturous. I just want it to all go away. I look at the person with pleading eyes as if they could do something about what was happened, but the person lets go of my hand.

They stand up and begin walking away. I swallow quickly and call out to them.

"W-wait..." It is a hoarse whisper that even I could barely hear, but the person stops. "Please." It is another whisper. I don't know exactly what I'm pleading for, but even if I did, the pain within my throat is unbearable. It is trapping my voice in this whisper. Even though I have so much I want to ask this stranger.

Please, stop this. Please, end my torturing. Please, help me. Please, give me some warmth. Please, keep your sheltering umbrella over me for a while longer, but...

The person turns to look at me. "Not yet." The person starts walking away as I struggle to move after them.

"Please," I whisper again. "H-help." I swallow again before I gasp, shutting my eyes in pain. A wave of helplessness surrounds me as I lay on the rough ground. Tears tore out from under my eyelids and slid down my face, temporarily warming my cheeks before the wind that whipped around froze them in their places.

Then, I hear footsteps. They are slow and sound far away. Perhaps it is the stranger coming back to take me away. I open my mouth to call out to the stranger, but only a sob made its way out of my throat. Suddenly, the footsteps get quicker, they get closer, until I realize it isn't the stranger with the umbrella, but a group of people.

From behind my tear-blurred eyes, i see four people dressed in bright clothes, quickly making their way to me. They each kneel beside me, each of them press a warm, gentle hand on me. One on my hand, on my wrist, on my neck and on my forehead, brushing my hair out of my face. I blink the tears out of my eyes only to immediately feel them filling up again. I feel overwhelming pain from the agonizing cold around me, but if I could have this warmth from these people, even if only for a moment, I know it would make me feel better. Why can't I have this warmth with me all the time? I feel like it's all I've ever wanted.

Will you lend me your warmth? Will you share your warmth? I am cold. I am in pain. Can you help me?

*----------------------*

I don't really know what inspired this... Other than the fact that I am sitting, on the stairs, at work, alone.... Yeah... But interpret it however you want. I feel like it is kiiiiiiinda like a suicide awareness kinda deal... Or it could totally not be. I have no idea. You guys think of it however you want. I'm just the writer.

Anyway, got to get to bed. Hopefully, i post something everyday. Even if its a short little thing or something that actually is suppose to make sense.

So until tomorrow, good night, everyone~

[storybook-central]

Greetings, Tumblr Readers!

I honestly have no idea what I'm doing, but I just figure I should try this out. So basically what I hope for this blog is to get out all of my random story ideas. Since I'm pretty sure none of them will ever amount to anything. So I might as well tell Tumblr my ideas and my followers too... If that ever happens.

Welp, here goes nothing. I do a lot of fiction stories. Lots of different genres; horror, comedy, mystery, adventure, and honestly just little short stories that would look better as a comic, but I am not skilled enough for that. Anyway, I'd love CONSTRUCTIVE criticism (how I can make things better, more interesting, more life like and accurate, you know, actual novel level stuff because that's my ultimate goal.)

Anyway, would love it if you all could totally boost this page or you know, make me feel loved and that my ideas aren't stupid. I also love suggestions so if you think something would make a great story and would like to see it come to life, I would be happy to trying to spin that idea into a short story of some kind.

Alright. I think that's about it. Feel free to ask me questions about my stories or... anything really. I'm friendly and love chatting with people when I have the time. So thank you all, whoever is actually there and reading this, and have fun reading.

Peace~