Writing about web page http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/HomePage
These are some stories based on tropes most of which I found on tvtropes.org but for the love of god don't look at that site or you'll be on it for hours. You have been warned.
First she killed them-
Then she saved them-
She got tired of them-
Threw them aside-
Began to talk to them-
Tried to understand-
She was evil in veins-
She never had a choice-
Drank the blood and spat at remorse-
She saw what she’d become-
Lay down arms-
Turned round to fight for them-
She’ll burn in hell-
She’s in the stars-
But, but the pages were all over the floor torn to pieces and the pictures drenched none of it made sense we didn’t know how to put it all back together we couldn’t it didn’t make any sense
He was insane. Completely unhinged. He’d – I couldn’t sleep at night knowing, I just knew he was out there. I could smell him there in the – not smell him, obviously I couldn’t smell him, but I knew he was there; he was there and he was watching my daughter and – do you know what that’s like? Do you have the slightest idea? You can’t understand it, can you, you – you people with your suits and your cameras – no, I’m not sorry. Why would I be sorry? No, I don’t know how old he – I can sleep at night now, my daughter’s safe now, I don’t have to have the locks replaced and keep the curtains drawn and mend the windows every day now – how on earth could I be sorry he’s gone?
Please don’t tell my mother I showed you this. She won’t see it, she doesn’t watch TV. This – this is the book of pictures he sent me. That – he said we could live on that island. And – sometimes he drew me. I wasn’t asleep, I just wanted to know what I looked like with my eyes closed. Sometimes I’d find flowers on my bed. Sometimes it was grass, I don’t think he really understood the whole – did you know how old he was? Yeah, that’s – it was going to be his birthday in June. I got him a present, see – well, I’ll be fine. No, you should – you should leave now.
No I Don’t Hug Trees
You know that thing you sometimes see in films or tv or whatever where someone’s trying to work but it’s just not happening? They get all frustrated and do the angry sigh and screw up whichever piece of paper they’re working on – it has to be a piece of paper, really wouldn’t work with a computer or whatever – and throw it sometimes over their desk but normally to the side into a bin? Yeah, you know that. Well – my name’s Billy Madison and I know I’m not famous but if there’s one thing – nobody’s going to beat me when it comes to throwing that paper. I do this with care.
I’ll admit: it all started as pure procrastination. I used to be terrible, you know, the paper went everywhere and I couldn’t get anything done with a messy floor so I’d walk around picking it all up, putting it in the bin. I got so sick of having to do that, I decided to work on my hand-eye co-ordination in my spare time. Long story short – I got better. I started to move the bin round my study to make it a challenge but – and I don’t want to brag – it was too easy. Really. So – I got the idea of really, you know, making it hard; I put the bin on rails. It started small, I’d just push it and it’d go in a little circle for a while then stop but during that time – yeah, that was a challenge. I couldn’t exactly keep getting up to prod it, though, so I decided to motorise it. Sort of like scalextrix but – and then, well, just going in that one pattern was too predictable. So I expanded the railing. It’s not like I had much else to do, I really wasn’t getting anywhere with the book.
You should see it now. It’s my pride and joy. Yeah, it cost a bit, I had to sell my car and my desk but it’s worth it. The rails go all over my study and I’ve connected a basic switchboard to my computer and written a program that randomises the track shifts so – really – that bin can go anywhere. Hey, but do you know what’s cooler? I – and I’m not boasting, honestly – I never miss. Go through paper like a hurricane but, believe me, it’s worth it.
I Won’t Sleep
I spent seven centuries watching ambush predators to really get how surprise works. His face, when he sees me-
I followed four generations of killers first teaching then learning what can be done with the human body. Some days I shuffle the methods but I already know which I’m going to use.
I’ve sifted particles from supernovas and sphere by sphere made the knife; now I’m just waiting to use it.
I’m a genocide in the wings lurking just for him.
I know exactly how long his bones would last thrown into any one of the suns on which I perch. The figures are in measures which won’t appear on any reasonable scale.
You know every day (and when it comes I could just) I see her choosing him, her hands on him, her eyes on him, and I know nothing I can do will ever change it not ever because that’s what’s written in all the numbers/but/I can make him regret it/oh you know I’m going to make him regret it/and I wonder if he knew how long he’s got if he’d even bother being born
I stared at hyenas evolving, studied their bite slowly becoming perfect. When he sees my mouth he’ll-