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Messages - Skill Flea

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My husband Jeremy has never been an abusive man but he’s always had that temper. I know that he loves our girl with all his heart and he would never lay a finger on her nor myself. I guess you could say our family is the poster child for traditional values. I take care of the house while he works at the coal mines, we live a simple but happy lifestyle. Whenever that man started screaming though, I would silently go into the basement with my little Sarah to get away from the noise. You see, I have very sensitive hearing and my husband’s yelling can really ruin a peaceful night.

For whatever reason, Jeremy’s temper would always worsen as the weather turned colder. He’s always had that bad back he never wants to admit having. Perhaps the lower temperature had a negative effect on him physically but then again Jeremy has always hated the cold.  I guess for as long as I’ve known him, there’s been many things that cause that man to rant and rave. The media, diet sodas, cheerleaders in football games, liberals, Mike’s dog; and all that was just during one very memorable breakfast with our extended family.

Jeremy does most of the bellyaching around here but there has been something that’s been driving me mad lately. Bells. I’ve been hearing the sound of bells ever since Thanksgiving. Jeremy and Mike were passed out on the couch, Sarah was in bed, and I was trying to clean the table. That’s when I began hearing the ringing of bells, I wasn’t afraid of the sound per se but I had no idea where it was coming from. The ringing was only there for a few moments before it disappeared.

As the weeks after Thanksgiving came and went, I kept occasionally hearing the sound of bells once more. Sometimes they were louder and sometimes they lasted a little longer. I was going crazy trying to figure out where they were coming from. Jeremy couldn’t hear them himself but was kind enough to comb through the entire house. Of course he found nothing. 

It was the 21st of last December when the bells finally had a point of origin. I was preparing dinner when Sarah came running into the kitchen with this huge smile on her face.

‘Mommy, its Santa! Santa is here!’

She pulled me towards the front window and outside stood a man with broad shoulders dressed as Santa Claus. He was standing at the front of the house, facing away from the door. A small red pot was by his side with a little sign that I could barely read: ‘Please consider donating!’ Although he was still facing away from the house, as I was looking at him, he began ringing his bell. I made sure the house was locked before grabbing Sarah and running for the basement. I had no idea who this man was and wasn’t about to take any chances. 

But then the ringing stopped and I could hear two men begin screaming at each other. One of them was definitely my husband, he must have just come home. I held my daughter as the minutes of screaming went on, until there was a loud bang and the screaming ceased. I ran upstairs, leaving Sarah behind, only to see Santa coming inside. The jingle of my husband’s keys was the last thing I heard.
   
It is now spring. I’m resting at my mother’s house trying to get back on my feet. My husband is gone and my child is nowhere to be seen.     

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Your Stories / Re: He's Fast Asleep
« on: 12:49:52 PM 11/30/16 »
You really did a fantastic job.  :D

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Your Stories / Re: It's All About You
« on: 02:13:08 PM 11/28/16 »
Really, really fucking good story

Thanks mate!

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Your Stories / The Door to Door Ritual
« on: 02:03:02 PM 11/28/16 »
Like the taste of a fine wine, the best things in life are worth waiting for. It’s something very foreign to a lot of people, especially with modern technology barraging our feeble little monkey brains with a constant stream of information. If there’s anything I’ve learned about humans, it’s that they bruise very easily. Perhaps there’s the girl of your dreams that ended up marrying the other guy. Maybe your brother is a selfish prick and didn’t share the inheritance, or maybe there was that one bully that may have tortured you years ago; yet the scars still remain. We all have something in us that’s very unrefined and unhealthy. It should be only natural for a man to release some darkness inside himself so that his quality of life can be better. So I have a proposal. If you are suffering at the hands of another person, why sit in your own filth? Why not travel around a little? Why not try something new and exciting, with minimal danger and a clear path to success?   

“But why should I do this?” you may ask yourself. For starters, here’s a list of everything you need:

1.   Any type of paper
2.   A writing utensil
3.   A front porch with some sort of ‘welcome mat’ or anything that can be used to prevent a piece a paper from blowing away in the wind.

This is all you need to technically complete the first part of the ritual.  Why would there be more than that? The unknown is not interested in any physical sacrifices.  Why would the spiritual world have the need for anything like an earthly possession? Its inhabitants only have one possession anyway. Time. Paying for a service received by the unknown requires the payment to be another service itself. Makes sense right?

However, there is another list of items that you will probably need in order to complete the second half of this ritual. Don’t worry its nothing too crazy:

1.   A driver’s license
2.   A vehicle or mode of transportation
3.   A healthy supply of spending money

I know this second half of the list doesn’t sound very ‘spiritual’ but it will be important for completing your tasks in the event the unknown cooperates with you. Just let me show you how easy this really is.

Take your piece of paper and writing instrument, then jot down as much information about yourself as you can. Anything you can think of really. Your birthday, your address, or even your favorite type of animal. The trick here is to help the unknown track you down and figure out who you are. You can’t just write ‘Joe Smith’ and expect them to figure out which Joe Smith you are. These are not mystical creatures with powers beyond your wildest imagination after all. Also, the more you write about yourself the more likely it is for you to be noticed. One downside to this ritual is that it isn’t a one way street for you nor the unknown. If you attempt this, they need to pick you and they may not do so right away. Maybe not at all. So getting yourself noticed is a priority here. Help the unknown become interested in you. 

After you write your information down, turn the page over and begin writing more information. This time it needs to be about your intended target. The ‘girl of your dreams that ended up marrying the other guy, or the brother didn’t share the inheritance, or that one bully that tortured you years ago’. That person, the one person you hate and would love to see fall in the game of life. You should really describe this person in detail, similar to how you did for yourself, but also include reasons for why they are your intended target and why you are doing this at all. Perhaps include what you would like to see happen to him/her. Although, I will personally advise you to not ask for their demise. It goes without saying but it’s advisable for your intended victim to genuinely be a bad person. Help the unknown hate your target too. 

Once you are done, you simply stick your piece of paper somewhere on your front porch. It really helps if you take measures to insure that the paper stays on your porch, hence the welcome mat or whatever object you might have that can do the job. That’s pretty much it, afterwards you basically just sit around and wait for your call to be answered. The best things in life are worth waiting for and if you truly want to see your target suffer you will not mind the wait.

How long is the wait? It’s hard to say. The unknown needs to choose to answer you. Sure you could summon them but they could choose to not answer the call. The reality is that all the power in this spiritual ritual entirely depends on the unknown spirits. Crazy concept right? If they feel like you are wasting their only possession they have left, their time, then they may choose to ignore you and there’s really nothing you can do. Again, it’s advisable for your intended victim to genuinely be a bad person.
Now if you are answered here’s what you can expect.  Nothing is going to possess you nor hurt you. Instead your piece of paper will be gone and in its place will be a package of some sort. The size of the package, the type of box it is in, etc. can all vary. The only similar feature between every package that appears is the lack of a return address and one side being covered in cold, wet red tape. Nothing dangerous will occur if you take the box inside your home, in fact it’s the next step.

You need to focus on the side with the red tape and CAREFULLY remove it. The reasons for this will be made clear but I can’t stress enough about being careful when removing the tape. Underneath the red tape is an address that is written in blood, just kidding, it’s usually black sharpie. Sometimes it’s in blue sharpie but the point of this little joke is that the package is not fundamentally dangerous to handle. However, it is also very impolite to open other people’s mail so be a gentleman (or a courteous lady) and do not open the package. No one could ever know what’s in there since it could in the most literal sense be anything from a human skull to a piece of apple pie. The rules of this ritual are pretty lenient but please do not open that package. It’s for your own good.

In any case, once the tape is removed the address should be eligible enough to be read. Now here comes the ‘hard’ part and depending on what the address is, the most dangerous part of the ritual. You need to deliver this package to that address; by hand. In other words, you yourself need to go to wherever that address is and deliver the package like a door to door salesman. Please do not use the postage system or else this will not work out. Ruining someone’s life is a difficult job, a job that takes up time. Perhaps the best way to interpret this is to assume the unknown spirit that extended this olive branch to you wants to know how far you are willing to go yourself. It really depends on what’s inside the package and the person(s) your new unknown friend wants to give it to. This takes us to the second rule you cannot break, the last one of only two. You need to go to that location on the package no matter how far away it is from your house. There are no borders for the unknown.

Have no fear, for the rules are pretty lenient for actually handing your package off to the individual(s) at the address in question. Once you arrive, you do not have to awkwardly knock on the person’s door and then make up some story about who you are and why you are here. Although I guess you could do this without any consequence but as a precaution I wouldn’t be in the area when they open it. After all, the contents inside could be anything. In theory you could just leave the package at their stoop and play the age old game of ‘ding dong ditch’. You could even just leave the package there and take off, the only requirements for this to work is for the individual(s) at the given address to receive and open the package. You can’t exactly do much to influence the latter but the former is all on you.

If everything works out and we just assume you are able to return home safely, you can expect your target to face some consequences. If you wrote anything specific for your target to face, it is possible something different might occur. However, at this point, you can expect him/her to face the music one way or another. Overall, the ritual is very fair and will reward you if you can simply follow its few essential rules. It is impossible to be in any danger during the first phase and the only danger you will face in the second phase depends on the distance between you and the given address.

One final thing though. Some people to decide to look in the package or choose to not to deliver the package at all. Hell, I’ll even admit that sometimes the contents inside are priceless and more than a few people have chosen to simply take the goodies. A very small lucky proportion of them even get rich, become powerful public figures, and live really nice lives. It could be the ultimate lottery ticket if you are feeling incredibly lucky, brave, or just stupid. Should you pull any of these stunts, however, you might receive a bounty of packages on a regular basis. 
 
         

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Your Stories / Re: It's All About You
« on: 03:05:49 PM 11/23/16 »
This story was originally written for Midnight Marinara's 'Pokepasta Challenge'. This story placed third and I am very proud of that.


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Your Stories / It's All About You
« on: 03:03:37 PM 11/23/16 »
It began last winter, the one where you had to shovel the driveway for that annoying elderly couple down the street.

“A little kindness today is worth your weight in gold tomorrow!” you heard your mother shout as you begrudgingly made your way to the O’Neils’ driveway.

You were armed with a large stick with some plastic on the end of it. It may have once resembled a shovel. You remember cursing as it broke under a layer of compacted ice. Your parents didn’t exactly buy the greatest tools for the harsh conditions of the winter in suburban New York. Was it really the lack of money? No of course not.

You remember don’t you? Under the Christmas tree opening gifts. Your little stash of gifts was way smaller than Scotty’s pile of wrapped goodies. A jaw dropping mountain of gold appeared under the tree like clockwork. Almost as if it was an offering from your parents to the demi-god that is your little brother. 

Sure, you don’t usually ask for much. Cards are nice and no gift is better than cold hard cash. Still, even you are a bit jealous of a kid that certainly did not deserve any of his gifts. Unlike you he is lazy. Younger sure but a complete failure. He’s been held back a grade, gets by doing the bare minimum at every turn, and simply doesn’t do anything extra. Dead weight.

Yet you remember all of those presents he got that Christmas day. It was a pretty moderate amount to be honest. The actual ‘size’ of his gifts may have contributed to the pile’s overall scale. That was the year he really got into Pokemon. Your parents bought him toys, plushies, even a small pokeball gumball machine, and other toys like it.

Now you were partaking in the usual ritual of Christmas day, a very boring spectacle since it was now reduced to watching someone else unwrapping gifts. That’s when you received text from your friend Jacob.

“hey some of us r hangin near the lib u should come. laurens here man!”

As much as you wanted to, you knew it would be almost impossible to leave during family time and Scotty still had a treasure trove of gifts to open. You were going to say something but then mom and dad left the room to retrieve the “surprise gift” for little snotty. That’s when you made your move and bolted for the back door.

As you later discovered, it was not a great idea to go out without a coat. After all you didn’t come back home until well after 10 pm. Your parents were going to be furious with you. Still, you had a great night and ended up making out with Lauren. Realistically there was very little they could do to spoil your night on cloud nine and with a big grin you approached the front door.

“Are they asleep?” You thought to yourself as you made your way forward into the colonial kitchen. Past the kitchen, past the living room and down the hallway to your room you went. Home-free for the night, you quietly went to bed never hearing from your parents again.       

Over the next couple of days after the holiday, your parents went from being lazy to downright neglectful. They were spending way too much time with Scotty, which honestly never bothered you at first. Hell, they never even mentioned the fact that you had ditched the family on Christmas day. There was nothing to complain about. 

However, as days turned into weeks, it was very clear they were no longer interested in parenting Scotty. Instead, they would give him whatever he wanted, buy him whatever toy he wanted, fed him whatever junk he wanted, and let him stay up as long as he wanted. As their attention of your little brother seemed to increase, he turned into an unhealthy mess. He wasn’t going to school as much and instead was slowly becoming a very fat little snot. All Scotty cared about now was eating, sleeping, and playing with his new Christmas gifts. Watching him eat is never a pretty sight as he now claws for his food in one hand while holding his 3DS in the other.

You’ve tried to confront your mom about this but they will not listen to you. She never pays any attention to you and runs off the second Scotty calls for her. A similar case happens with your father, its completely useless trying to reason with them. They call your point of view pointless.

Then you decided to confront Scotty directly, the idea came to you after you watched Scotty waddle for the bathroom with a sense of urgency. He probably had another accident and would be out of commission for a while. You suddenly realize you had not gone into your brother’s room for quite some time, in fact it had been since Christmas.

You enter his room to a gruesome sight. Candy wrappers everywhere, fast food left on the floor with reckless abandon, and all sorts of toys scattered around the room. It was as if a twister was hired for a hit job and the target was this very room. You go to leave, the smell is overpowering but before you do you see his stupid 3ds. The toy he never has out of his hand. You decide to pull a fast one on him and take it with you to your room.

Locking the door, you flop on your bed and open the small hand-held system. It comes to life and you immediately recognize that this is a Pokemon game. It’s one of the newer ones that you never really got into. The screen showed six pokemon, some of which you recognize. A snorlax named Andy, an exeggutor named Mrs. Philips, a chansey named Mommy, and an aggron named after you. Two other Pokemon were also there, a frog-like sprite named Daddy and a sprite that appeared to resemble a T-rex named Corey.

The overworld looks amazing. As you move, your sprite on the screen begins roller-skating around a big city. This game looks incredible to you and you immediately go out to find someone to battle. As you move around, the bottom of the screen showed something peculiar. The sprite of the Chansey was now rolling around in some type of sphere as your in-game character moved. It looked odd and you tried to tap on the chansey with your finger and an option to ‘play’ appeared. You clicked on it and heard a loud bang from your door, followed by a shriek.

“Mommy! He’s playing with my game! Make him stop!!”

You roll your eyes as Scotty and now your mother began banging at the door yelling at you to come out. You head over to the door and look down at the game one last time. You see the Chansey standing in a strange grassy field looking at you. Without thinking, you tap Chansey’s face with your finger. Your mother stops yelling.

Its super effective.         
   

26
Your Stories / Re: Long Trips
« on: 12:10:13 AM 10/31/16 »
Oh shit, wrong tab

Did you mean to post this in the critique section? 

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