I was waiting for class to start all day long, but I never thought that our teacher would

call a student out

of the classroom to participate in an experiment. I looked around and there was nobody else in the
classroom. I wondered why she did that. I thought maybe she was up to something more.

I then heard a gush of wind, a rustle of leaves, and a snap of twigs. I knew it was the younger of the
monkeys coming to my table in the classroom. I knew for a fact that the younger monkey was guilty of
eating the morsel of apple left by the older monkey. He was there to help himself. But then all thoughts
of the young greedy monkey disappeared as I saw something else… a creature that also looked like a
monkey. I was confused as to what this was. I was seeing things. I squinted my eyes to make sure that I
wasn't seeing things. I looked again. It was not a monkey. It was a demon from the lower plane. The
demon looked over at the younger monkey and said something to him.

"Monkey," said the demon.

The younger monkey then spoke in a timid tone. "Yes?"

"Gladius, you can come with me."

"Come with you?" the younger monkey asked. I was in shock. I wanted to scream but I couldn’t. I did not
want to be expelled so I needed to listen closely to what was happening and mark all of the information
down for my codex.

"You're coming with me," the demon said.

"Come with you to where?" the younger monkey asked.

"You'll find out soon," the demon said as they got up and walked out of the classroom.

I was too panicked by what just happened and could not process anything. I looked around the room and
realized that nobody else had witnessed what just happened. I was the only one that had. I was the only
one that believed that the demon was a monkey. I wondered why. This must be my imagination. I had
seen things that were not there before. It must be some sort of hallucinations. I looked down at the
table that I was sitting at and noticed a scissor that my teacher had left behind. When I looked closer to
the scissor, I realized that the scissor had a stripe of paint on it. I quickly grabbed the scissor and ran to
the next table.

I walked behind the table, hoping nobody would notice what I was doing. In the corner of the room was
a foam board surrounded by glitter on school glue. I looked at the foam board and touched it. Alarmed, I
realized that the paint on the board was the same paint on the scissor. The paint was on the scissor that
the younger monkey used to cut the apple. I ran out of the classroom and I ran as fast as I could. I ran
out into the playground where I saw the older monkey stick his hand of the older monkey's apple that
was inside the cage. The younger monkey then got up and ran away with the apple. At first it was just my
finger of the younger monkey but then it grew to a huge hand. I looked closer to the playground and
there was a man covered in stripes of paint. The paint looked like the same paint that was on the scissor
that I had. The colors were almost the same. It was the paint on the scissor that I saw in the classroom.

There was a crowd of people still watching and the crowd was cheering. That is when I realized that
there was more people with stripes of paint. In the distance I saw what looked like the gates of the
school. I kept getting closer to them and was getting closer and closer to the gates of the school.
Wherever I was it looked like it was near the school. I looked at the stripes of paint. Then I realized it. It
must be a spell that the school was casting on us. I tried to run to the gates, but then I realized that I
could not run at all. I tried to pull myself up and walk. I fell to pieces. I looked back at the gates and saw
that I had gotten far closer to them. I was in front of the gates and they opened at that moment. I then
realized that the demon must have come back for the younger monkey. I was running at that moment,
but not fast enough. I was getting closer to the gates of the school and the demon would have gotten me
in a few moments. I looked back and saw the demon dig up a hole under a sign and actually pull a cage
out. It got heavier and heavier. It was very visible that something was in the cage. I just ran out of there. I
ran away from the school, looking back at every little thing. Nobody was looking for me. Nobody saw
what really happened. I ran around the block until I finally found a place to stop. I realized that I was lost.
I only saw stripes of paint in the distance. I saw a place that had a large amount of stripes of paint. As I
got closer to the place, I realized that it was a person. I was confused. I ran over to the person. I was
running. I then finally stopped as I realized that it was someone that looked exactly like me. His and her
clothes looked exactly like mine. It was another me. Her hair was longer and her face was a little bit
more thin. As I looked at the other me, I saw three monkeys. There was a demon with a younger
monkey, the demon that was in the classroom and the other demon that was also there. I kept walking
backwards not wishing to watch what was happening. They were not saying anything. After the younger
monkey had went in the cage, he turned to me, as did the other two monkeys.

It must be time to look into the future.

Write an essay about a trembling beggar.

This is the end.

Copyright © 2012 by blackhorsecode

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any
form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods,
without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in
critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

The characters and events portrayed in this work are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or
dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

This story is written under Creative Commons License.

Email: blackhorsecode@gmail.com

Website: http://blackhorsecode.com

Twitter: @blackhorsecode

More stories by blackhorsecode

The Unseen World

(Y/A Novel)

Smoke and Mirrors

(Short Stories)

Magic and Mirrors

(Short Stories)
2013

This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any
unauthorized reprint or use of this book is prohibited.

The author holds exclusive rights to this material. Unauthorized distribution, transmission, or public
exhibition of this material is prohibited.
License Notes

This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be sold or re-sold.

Recipients are hereby granted the right to make copies for their own use.

You may not reproduce or distribute this material

(i) in any medium without the permission of the author, OR

(ii) for any commercial purpose without the expressed written permission of the publisher.

This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places, and terms mentioned within this book are
created to be over-all accessible. Similarities to actual events or places are coincidental.
Mixed, merged, and slopping over

Copyright 2012 blackhorsecode

All rights reserved.

The author holds exclusive rights to this material. Unauthorized distribution, transmission, or

publication of this material is prohibited.

Medical Terms:

The words "defect" and "defective" are used in this book because it is what the government likes to use
but it is not the way this book is meant to be read. It is considered an insult to someone with any type of
mental disability to use those two words in a story. This is a work of fiction and is meant for
entertainment.

Medical Terms Used in this Story

COCHLEAR IMPLANT. A medical device that is implanted in the head to improve hearing, by helping
people with severe to profound hearing loss.

DEAF. This word is used to describe a person who is not able to hear.

DEAFBLIND. A person that has both hearing and vision loss.

DEAF-BLIND EDUCATION. This is an educational program that includes special teaching methods
designed for blind and deaf people. This style of teaching is mainly used in the USA.
DISABLED. The word "disabled" is used in this story to describe someone who has a physical or mental
limitation, which usually prevents them from functioning in the same way as a normally abled person.
However, this is not medically accurate! A disabled person does not necessarily have a limitation, only a
disability.

DISABLED VEHICLE. A vehicle that is too damaged to be driven in everyday life.

CARDIOVASCULAR DISEASE. A disease or condition that affects the heart or blood vessels.

MIXED GENETIC DISORDER. A disorder of genetics that contains two or more unusual combinations of
inherited characteristics that affect the characteristic from one or both parents.

MULTIPLE SCLEROSIS. This disease is caused by several different types of cells that attack and destroy the
membranes that cover the nerves. These nerves control all of the body's movements.

HOPE OF LIFE. The word "lifespan" is used in this story because it is a way for the writer to imply that
people still have a life after they have died so it can be compared to the fact that some people have gone
on to live even though they died in this story.

SEROPHRENIC DISEASE. A disease of the testicles and prostate gland, which affect the secretion of male
hormones.

Micheala T. Black (born October 1, 1992), Ohio, USA, is the author of The Unseen World, a novel. She
also has the short stories, Smoke and Mirrors, as well as, Magic and Mirrors. She is currently working on
other novels and short stories, and is working full time at home.

You can follow her on Twitter @blackhorsecode.

You can also visit her website at http://blackhorsecode.com

Her blog is http://www.blackhorsecoded.blogspot.com

She also has a facebook page: MichealaBlackAuthor

You can add her on Facebook to follow her stories. Her id is Micheala.Black.Author

To all my readers, I thank you for supporting me and reading my stories that otherwise I would of said
would never be published.

To the person that gives me ideas for stories, just know that I love you for this wonderful gift.

Sarah Nally
"I don't think the FDA is saying you can or can't eat it."
"I don't think so. Not in a million years. There will be push-back. It's America. There will always be push-
back. It's the way we've functioned in this country for decades. That's not going to change."
Author's Note for Readers

This story is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

This book may offend certain people because it contains offensive language and concepts.

The author takes no responsibility for any shame, guilt, or regret that a reader may experience
while reading this book.

This book may be unsuitable for readers under 18 years of age.

February 5th, 2006

Thursday, Day 01 (Headlines)

Detention Center Information, Riverside, California

Summary: The California Department of Corrections (CDC) and Prisoner Control Division (DPCD) and
California State Police (CSP) automatically conduct an investigation on a prisoner that is listed as
deceased. A staff member from the CDC and DPCD will visit the facility. The police will also visit the
facility to assist in the investigation.

On 01/25/06, Hilary Harris was declared deceased by the CDC. The CDC and DPCD decided that they
would investigate Harris being deceased as they occurred. The CDC and DPCD decided to not visit all
prisoners deemed deceased until they were one hundred degrees.

Possible Causes of Death:

1) Heart failure. No autopsy

2) Heart assault. No autopsy

3) Respiratory failure. No autopsy

4) Carotid artery dissection. No autopsy

5) Digestive tract sickness. No autopsy

6) Unknown. No autopsy

February 8th, 2006

Monday, 1:58 p.m.

I should be writing a professional announcement for the town's chamber or for the planning commission
or for anything impossible. But it's not a real job. I should have started this months ago and that would
have made this one. This is not a real person, but it wants to be. It is my first 'official' story. I hope you
liked it. I hope you like it even more in a few days when it is changed. Let me know what you think of it.
Tell me what you think of my writing new media.
Dear Journal,

Wow.

Wow, wow, wow. Why is she saying she should be writing this? I hope she's finally overwhelmed by the
world's reactions to her new media.

I got up at the right time. I made what every writer, new media, article writer, or anyone who has a life,
would make for losing a day: I made a cup of coffee and stirred it. What a mistake. All I could smell was
the dead rats in the bottom of the plastic suitcase. I heard the family cat crying in the yard. I took off my
pants and turned my room upside down. I looked everywhere but there wasn't a rat; they just moved in
for the kill and got away. I just hope that no one finds out, but I can see it. I don't know what to do. The
journalist is creepy and is just trying to fit in. I should have kept to my room. I couldn't get up again later
because another family emergency came up last minute and I had to be there.

And she's saying that she is an author? What do I know about that? I've never heard of anyone who can
write that beats with the words "Wow, wow, wow!" What is she writing? I bet it's the same book, "The
Unseen World" or whatever that is.
I can't stop thinking of the dead rats. Sigh.

Need to write this and get it over with. So easy to write so difficult to write. I don't like how it's going.
This is really going to be hard. I want to tell it like I did Skip's. This is very different. She is doing it
perfectly and I want to do this perfectly just to keep it perfect for my best-friend Skip and her husband
Robby. We're all going to do it. And if we don't it will be awful and I'll never write.

Sunday, 2:50 p.m.

Went to the Christmas party at Skip's today. It's at the Washington Arms, which is not a good idea if I
want to be the only optimist in my own party. I want to be optimistic. Sitting in a lounge watching a
bunch of new media girls, it's hard to be optimistic. The girls here look, perfect. I'm not Skip; I don't look
perfect. I have no idea how I got here. I really don't. I should be home with my family opening presents. I
am. I opened the perfect present for my sister's pregnancy. We had to order it online. I got my mom a
beautiful pair of coffee urns, but that's it. I mean I want to know what everyone else is getting, but not as
Christmas. I am so tired of Christmas. No one wants to celebrate Christmas. Three friends and I were
shopping until 1:30 a.m. for the perfect Christmas gifts for our mothers. It took all night.

I want to be home. I want to write. I have tried to write for the last hour with nothing coming. Nothing. I
wonder where this story is going and then I feel sick and tired and angry. I want to write. I want to know
what she is writing. I want to know what to write in my story.

And my train of thoughts. Thinking of breakfast. How many people out there would like to break their
fast in a train on an empty track by themselves? How many people are here? Then why doesn't this
know I'm here? They don't talk to me. I don't talk to them either. Why do I like this? This thing still
doesn't know I'm here. This journal, this pen, this diary, showcase it all for the world. Just. What? They
show me. I am alone. The crowd of people reads what they want to read. They are fascinated by
whatever it is. I don't care anymore.

I want to go to Holiday Express. H.E. is still a favorite of mine. Why not on the Upper East Side? Why not?
Have you even been? It's amazing. There is ten million candies there. It is funny. It is beyond funny. Last
time we went we started making different kinds of candy. I feel good. I feel like myself. I never felt that
way. I don't feel good. I feel really bad. The crowd in my head is in the front. The crowd in my head. I
don't belong here. I can hear everyone. I am behind them. I will hear about this. I don't want to hear
about this. I want it ending. I am afraid. I am GAR-ing. I am just going to start moving forward. I want to
go home. I want to write. I am terrified. I want to start over. I want ended. I feel empty. I feel disgusting.

I feel so guilty. I feel really guilty. So guilty. It is going to lead to so many things getting hurt.

I hate my life. I hate my life right now.

I live in New York, but I live in New York for the town inside the city. I live in the Upper East Side in
Manhattan. The location is not the point. Everyone thinks that New York doesn't sleep but that is a lie. It
never sleeps. Life is about New York. There is no where without New York. New York is a world of its
own. You cannot drop the New York and forget about it. New York is not a medium, New York is a whole
world that you can never escape from when you're there.
I'm lost in New York. I live in New York, but I live alone. I don't have any friends here, but I don't have any
friends in New York.

I can't believe that this is happening. I can't believe that this is happening to me. This is happening. It
absolutely is. There isn't going to be anything else, but this. This is what life is. This is what everything is.
Everything is this and this is how everything is.

I hate this world. I hate this world because this world is in my head. It is in my head. I can't escape this
world in my head. I need to get away. I need to move. I can't keep on living like this.

Today we were having a Christmas party at my house but it was canceled. My mom called in the morning
and My mom couldn't be here. I need to write this to someone, but my boyfriend Skip is busy. I'm alone.
I sit here. I'm in New York all by myself.

Ben grew up in New York City, but he has made other friends. He teaches himself the spanish language.
He is a member of an international online community. He lives in the countryside, but he can visit New
York any time he is in the city. In his spare time, he enjoys reading good books reported from various
countries around the world.

Ben is an avid remixer of works originating from books, short stories, movies, and other types of texts.
He also edits the works of other junky writers who follow the theme of self-invention. His own work has
been nominated for several awards, but has never won.

Subscribe to the newsletter for updates on his latest stories, and don't forget to share.
The story of the week will be sent to you by email in a week. I have contacted a lot of authors and asked
them to send us their stories about Aweless Lunch.

Submit your story today!

Disclaimer: These stories are fiction. All characters are legal age.

©Copyright:

YoungBoy Never Fails

All rights reserved.

WE DO NOT SELL ANY CONTENT TO ANY COMPANY. ALL CONTENT IS CREATED BY US. PLEASE DO NOT
TAKE OUR CONTENT WITHOUT OUR PERMISSION. WE WILL REPORT YOU IF YOU DO.
Receive a future post

Below is an example of a past post sent to us. At the bottom of this article is a link to get a new post
every week. Each post will be sent to you directly.

This week's letter

The University of Useless Lunch has posted another letter.

Hi,

A lot has happened since you last wrote me. I've made a lot of new friends and decided to break up with
Gami.

I'm living in Spring Hill Apartments right now. I've been in my apartment over a week. I've been working
at a restaurant and I love it. Callum is there and he doesn't like me very much. Guess I don't fit in his
world. I guess I shouldn't have been so blunt to him. He's already in love with someone but he'll come
around and I'll beat everyone at love. I've got a lot of people here to start my life with. You know, this
university must've changed my life.

Takecare

Previous letter

HI YOU.

Callum is still into my life. I decided to change my roommates. I moved out. I brought my boyfriend with
me. He's a big boy. He is so big, I'm surprised about this body. I'm still a virgin, I feel like nobody will
notice me.

I feel like I stand out so much. I'm confused a lot. Feeling down. I'm feeling very, very down. What
happened to you? I thought you could help me like before. You always said to stay hopeful. I like thinking
about that. It's not too difficult for me. I remember how you were in your other life. Does that mean that
you're also changing along with me? Are you still that person I couldn't forget and still want to meet
again?

Sometimes it bothers me that you were in my life. I wouldn't know you now if you weren't in my life. I
wouldn't have met Callum if you hadn't existed. How nice that you're not in my life. I think of you all the
time. I never forget about you. It's funny because you saved me, and I'm creating a new life for myself. I
am really glad about that. I don't feel pressured anymore. Sorry if I didn't write to you this week. I think
that's because you're not here and I miss you all the time. I still think of you when I'm in my bed. I
remember our times in the hospital. I remember our kiss. I still have something on my lips that reminds
me of you. I'll do my best to take care of you. I will find you. I will defeat that enemy. I have a lot more to
do than you now.

Take care of yourself.

Receive a future post

Below is an example of a past post sent to us. At the bottom of this article is a link to get a new post
every week. Each post will be sent to you directly.
This week's letter

The University of Useless Lunch has posted another letter.

Hi,

Callum is still into my life. I decided to change my roommates. I moved out. I brought my boyfriend with
me. He's a big boy. He is so big, I'm surprised about this body. I'm still a virgin, I feel like nobody will
notice me.

I feel like I stand out so much. I'm confused a lot. Feeling down. I'm feeling very, very down. What
happened to you? I thought you could help me like before. You always said to stay hopeful. I like thinking
about that. It's not too difficult for me. I remember how you were in your other life. Does that mean that
you're also changing along with me? Are you still that person I couldn't forget and still want to meet
again?

Sometimes it bothers me that you were in my life.