1. My brain is so busted that I don't really know if I have fifteen different things to say.
2. Apparently, according to the FNI, there's one.
3. The FNI's apple is fat.
4. Just thought I would let the world know.
5. Can't kick the habit...I've got to have it...'cause I'm a love addict, love addict
6. That's a fun song.
7. So is...SHAKIN' LIkE AN EARTHQUAKE (It's family force six. Typo intentional)
8. erg
9. I love SHANE AND ETHAN. They're bromance is adorable. It's great stuff.
10. I never have continuing characters...maybe I should do that sometime.
12. "POOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOP" and "FINGER SLAYER! MAHAHAHA!" quotes from Sarah, the FNI
13. For those of you who don't know, Finger Slayer is a game on an iPhone where you have to move your finger before the guillotine/saw falls onto it.
14. It looks all happy and stuff, but it's really violent. It's also kind of scary listening to the music. And when your finger gets cut off it screams.
15. Well, the FNI just decided she doesn't like that game and wants to play Veggie Samurai instead. And I've just run out of bullet points.
~P. Megz OUT!!!
August 12, 2011
OH GOODNESS!! IT'S FRIDAY!!!!
So this one time I actually posted on time.
YEAH! It actually happened. Crazy, right?
It's kinda ironic 'cause I was on time on a REALLY late challenge post.
I picked the student/teacher one. I'm not sure that this is quite what P Meggy the Marvelous was looking for, but I couldn't resist. I just love Ethan and Shane too much. They're like the two extremes of guys I like. Shane, the ubernerd/soccer player/musician. And then there's Ethan, helplessly clueless/sporty/adorable/athlete.
I think I got a little bromantic in this one, but I didn't reach the level of like Frodo and Sam. (Yes, Meg. That LOTR reference was for you. :D)
In my mind, I've labeled their world my "HCO-verse." It's all my stories about Ethan Caple and his nerdy counterpart Shane Branson. Other stories from it are, "Within Five Minutes" and "It Makes Way for Spring".
I think they're okay stories, but maybe it's because I wrote them....
CHALLENGECHALLENGECHALLENGECHALLENGECHALLENGECHALLENGECHALLENGECHALLENGECHALLENGECHALLENGECHALLENGECHALLENGECHALLENGECHALLENGECHALLENGECHALLENGECHALLENGECHALLENGECHALLENGECHALLENGECHALLENGECHALLENGECHALLENGECHALLENGECHALLENGECHALLENGECHALLENGECHALLENGECHALLENGECHALLENGECHALLENGECHALLENGECHALLENGECHALLENGE
Woah CHALLENGE BAR!! What's with the interupting?? Oh, it's about the challenge for P Meggy?? The one due this coming Friday?? Oohh, okay. Say that before you fly across my blog next time, okay?? Chill bud!!
P Meggy, your challenge is to write a story from two POV's. One from someone who's moving and one from someone who wishes they would stay.
A Jocund Goodbye from CatCooper<3
YEAH! It actually happened. Crazy, right?
It's kinda ironic 'cause I was on time on a REALLY late challenge post.
I picked the student/teacher one. I'm not sure that this is quite what P Meggy the Marvelous was looking for, but I couldn't resist. I just love Ethan and Shane too much. They're like the two extremes of guys I like. Shane, the ubernerd/soccer player/musician. And then there's Ethan, helplessly clueless/sporty/adorable/athlete.
I think I got a little bromantic in this one, but I didn't reach the level of like Frodo and Sam. (Yes, Meg. That LOTR reference was for you. :D)
In my mind, I've labeled their world my "HCO-verse." It's all my stories about Ethan Caple and his nerdy counterpart Shane Branson. Other stories from it are, "Within Five Minutes" and "It Makes Way for Spring".
I think they're okay stories, but maybe it's because I wrote them....
CHALLENGECHALLENGECHALLENGECHALLENGECHALLENGECHALLENGECHALLENGECHALLENGECHALLENGECHALLENGECHALLENGECHALLENGECHALLENGECHALLENGECHALLENGECHALLENGECHALLENGECHALLENGECHALLENGECHALLENGECHALLENGECHALLENGECHALLENGECHALLENGECHALLENGECHALLENGECHALLENGECHALLENGECHALLENGECHALLENGECHALLENGECHALLENGECHALLENGECHALLENGE
Woah CHALLENGE BAR!! What's with the interupting?? Oh, it's about the challenge for P Meggy?? The one due this coming Friday?? Oohh, okay. Say that before you fly across my blog next time, okay?? Chill bud!!
P Meggy, your challenge is to write a story from two POV's. One from someone who's moving and one from someone who wishes they would stay.
A Jocund Goodbye from CatCooper<3
Lessons Learned
Lessons Learned
Shane Branson shook his head at the sleeping body of his second-to-least favorite coworker at Hollister, his place of work, Ethan Caple. As usual, Shane was working while Ethan lay out across the counter behind them, using a wadded up tshirt as a pillow.
Ordinarily, Shane would not have been bothered by his coworker’s slumber, but today was no ordinary day. Shane needed help, and that help would only come from Ethan.
Shane, with a burst of mischievous inspiration, grabbed a water bottle and abandoned his post. Once out of the store, he yelled, “Hey kid!!!” Several twelve-year-old boys turned to face him. Shane waved them over quickly.
One spoke quickly and squeakily, “My mom says to stay away from strangers.”
Shane smothered a snicker. “Yeah, when was the last time you did what your mom said?”
The boy frowned and his friends started to walk away.
“Wait!” Shane called. “I’ll pay you ten bucks to pour this on the guy sleeping in there,” he said, gesturing to the water bottle.
“Really?” Squeaky clarified.
“Really. And I’ll pay you five more to not tell him it was me.”
“Deal.” Squeaky grinned evilly.
I really hope I haven’t encouraged some budding psychopath, Shane mused as he handed Squeaky the water bottle and his pay.
Shane quickly turned to a display and started to neaten it. He spun around at the sound of Ethan’s disgruntled, “ARG!!!!!!”
“Get out of here!” Shane yelled, hiding his amusement. He winked as Squeaky, clutching his fifteen dollars tightly, ran past him. Shane walked quickly to the counter Ethan had lain on and picked up the near-empty bottle. “Kids these days…”
“Yeah, what was that?” Ethan asked in an indignant voice that made Shane feel almost guilty. Then Ethan pulled his shirt off and grabbed one off the display Shane had just fixed. He ripped off the tag quickly, somehow messing up the once-neat table even more.
“You know that is called stealing, right?” Shane frowned as Ethan put on the shirt.
“Meh. I’ll pay for it eventually.” Ethan shrugged. “Oh, wait this is a V-neck.” Ethan took it off and threw it to Shane. “You want this one?”
Shane’s frowned deepened as Ethan snagged a crew-neck off a neighboring table, wrecking yet another table. “Ethan, you’re two sizes larger than me.”
“Yeah, but you like those v-necks, right? Gabby says it’s ‘cause you’re like the world’s biggest hipster,” Ethan said, mentioning his girlfriend. Both Ethan and Gabby were in the I-can’t-stop-talking-about-them-for-five-minutes-phase, which was bugging the crap out of Shane. Although, he supposed, he and Ivy, the girl of his dreams, would enter that phase soon as well, at which point they would bother their friends to no end.
Shane mumbled, “I’m not a hipster.”
“See, Gabby says that if you deny being a hipster, you are a hipster.” No further explanation needed. “Sooooo… If you don’t need me anymore, I’m gonna go back to sleep.”
That was his moment. “Wait!” Shane exclaimed.
“Woah, freak out a little there, huh kiddo?” Another thing about Ethan that bothered his Calculus-loving counterpart to no end. He insisted on calling Shane “kiddo” far too often. Actually, ever using that moniker was “far too often.”
“Yeah, sorry.” He rubbed the back off his neck sheepishly. “It’s just, I need your help.”
“Hmm… As long as it’s nothing, like, with school, sure I can help.” Ethan shrugged. Something about Ethan that Shane liked. No “like” is too strong of a word. But, anyways, he always seemed to be willing to assist someone. Well, excluding helping Shane with work.
“I uh…” Shane’s face began to turn an interesting shade of pink.
“You’re blushing!” Ethan laughed. “Come on, it can’t be that bad! Just ask!”
Shane gathered every speck of courage in his thin frame. “I’m, uh, meeting Ivy’s parents tonight.”
“So you need help like, with first impressions? Gabby’s parents love me! Sure, I can help.” He grinned.
“Well, it’s not exactly the first impression I’m worried about. Just one aspect of it.”
“Oh, wear blue. Gabby says she thinks it says that you’re, like, a warm and caring person.”
“No, it’s not that!” Shane said frustratedly.
“What, then?” Ethan asked.
“Well, Ivy’s dad was a big football player in college. He played at UCLA and everything. Real manly guy.”
“Don’t worry. I’m sure you’ll be fine. What position did he play?”
Shane rubbed the back of his neck again. “Um…”
“Quarterback, halfback, lineman, kicker?”
“I don’t know… I know basically nothing about football.”
“Are you serious?!?” Ethan stared incredulously. “Nothing?”
“Think about how much you know about Star Trek.”
He nodded with understanding. “Ah, so abso-fruitly nothing.”
“Nothing,” Shane affirmed.
“So, you like never watched games with your dad or anything?”
Ethan’s question, as harmless as it was intended to be, hit Shane like a punch to the stomach. Oblivious, the former continued.
“That was like my whole childhood. Me and Dad had matching jerseys, still do, even. Me, Dad, and Vikings games was every Sunday in football season. You never watched any games?”
“No,” Shane answered sharply. Yet another annoying part of Ethan. His seemingly perfect family with loving parents, a doting sister, and dog that went on three-mile runs with him. All Shane got was a single mother and twelve cats. He loved his mom, sure, but she had some serious issues. Like the twelve felines that were constantly getting fur on everything in their house. Shane was just thankful that Ivy was a cat person.
“Oh, was your dad like a basketball kinda guy? Baseball? I mean, I guess golf is okay if that’s his thing.”
“Look,” Shane snapped, “maybe we would’ve watched the Vikings or Horses or whoever if my father hadn’t left when I was two months old, but he did. So I’m sorry I can’t quite comprehend this thing or all the rest of sports crap, but I didn’t have anyone around to force it on me.”
“Oh.” Thankfully, his tirade had made Ethan realize he’d struck a nerve. “Well, it’s never too late to learn, right?” he said with something like cheerfulness. “I mean, look at me, one girlfriend, not three. And I finished Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban,” Ethan stated proudly. “It only took three months, even!”
“Uh, maybe you can teach an old dog new tricks.” Shane smiled weakly.
“So what tricks does this dog need to learn?” Ethan asked with a large grin.
“Just how to throw a football, I guess.”
“Alright, no problemo, kiddo!” Ethan pulled a football out from under the counter.
“Do you bring one of those everywhere you go?” Shane queried with some amount of disbelief.
“Do you bring a book everywhere you go?” Ethan shot back merrily.
“Point taken. So how do I do this?”
He walked over to Shane, tossing the ball between his two hands. “Alright, first thing is grip. Not too firm, not too loose. Just right is just right.”
“Okay, grip like Goldilocks.”
“Pa-new-monic device?” Ethan looked rather satisfied with his word usage.
“Yeah, uh, pneumonic. Helps me remember stuff.”
“Cool. Alright, now your gonna hold it so you make an ‘L’ shape with your thumb and first finger.” He demonstrated before handing the ball to Shane, who took hold of it uneasily.
“Turn so your shoulders are, like, parallel to wherever you wanna throw.” Shane moved accordingly, growing slightly more comfortable. “This part’s kinda weird to explain. When I taught Gabby how to throw, she said it has, like, sin-tri-pedal force or something.”
“Oh, centripetal effort! Okay.” Shane grinned, at least slightly in his element.
“Remember to move your weight to your front foot when you throw. You wanna try?” Before letting Shane answer, Ethan ran across the store, cluttering yet another table along the way. He waited, ready to catch whatever Shane threw.
Shane’s first attempt went about ten feet to left of Ethan, and the second, third, fourth, sixth, ninth, and fourteenth were even worse. But, on his fifteenth try, the ball soared gloriously into Ethan’s open arms.
“Yeah!” Shane yelled.
“NOW THAT’S WHAT I’M TALKIN’ ABOUT!” Ethan roared, scaring a few people outside the store. “I knew you could do it, kiddo!”
They continued to throw the football for another hour or so, chatting easily about school, life, TV, girlfriends, music, and everything else. Ethan encouraged Shane and gave him tips on improving his throwing technique, and Shane explained some of the symbolism in Fahrenheit 451, which Ethan had a test in the next day.
Shane glanced nervously at his watch after throwing to Ethan.
“You can leave early, you know. I can manage this place until Brad comes in at five,” Ethan said.
Shane grimaced. “You’re working with Brad tonight? I’m sorry. Really sorry.”
“Yeah, the guy’s such a meathead. Even I have more of a brain than him. But I can hold down the fort. Get outta here kiddo.”
“Thanks,” he said, truly grateful. He grabbed his coat and began to head out the door, before Ethan stopped him.
“Wait!” Ethan called. “You gotta slap the doorway when you leave.” He ran over to the entrance and jumped, hitting the doorjamb. “Like that.”
“Why?” Shane asked, fairly puzzled.
“It’s what us football players do. You gotta do it too, know that you’re one of us.” Ethan smiled.
Shane nodded. He sprinted, slapping the top of the door as he jumped through the entrance.
“Go get ‘em tiger!!!” Shane heard Ethan yell.
As Shane drove to Ivy’s house, he wasn’t thinking about how nervous he was or how afraid he was that he father would be turned off by his lack of ubermanliness. Of course, those worries sat at the back of his mind, but, for the most part, he was mulling over his shift with Ethan. As he thought about Ethan teaching him and understanding his lack of knowledge in terms of football, Shane came to the conclusion that Ethan wasn’t his second-to-least favorite coworker. Not his favorite, but maybe close to it.
August 8, 2011
Down to Business, Up in the Atmosphere
If I ever end up acquiring any amount of skill as a vocalist, this will be the title of my first album.
Jus sayin.
Wow.
It's totally been since June that I posted.
This is awkward.
I do have an excuse. I think it's a rather good one in all honesty.
SUMMER WORK!!
Yeah, I had (for art) ten sketchbook pages, 20 photographs, and a final piece; (for english) two books, read and annotated; and (for Spanish) a book read, ten pages of questions pertaining to that book answered, 19 pages of grammar, ten quizzes, and three articles summarized.
It took from the middle of June to last night to complete. I haven't been procrastinating. Too much. I've just been busy.
BUT NOW I'M BACK!!
I've had a little plot bunny named Fred as my best friend for a while, and it tears my heart into little tiny pieces that I haven't been able to put him down on paper.
BUT NOW I CAN!!
Except that I have lots of homework, but he and I will work soon.
I'm pretty excited about finishing up one of my old challenges, but I thought I would give you an early present.
ANGSTY POETRY WITH CAT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Here it is. I wrote it in the middle of the night two weeks ago. Enjoy. Or not.
"Thanks, I Guess"
I had hat hair after wearing your Hawk cap
I didn't care 'cause you liked me back
You were shorter than me and not the most moral
Why did that matter? You called me beautiful
I think about our time and it makes me wanna cry
I'm afraid to admit to me, but I know why
I'm sick of being desired only for what lies on my skin
At the time, I believed that you actually looked within
So you sat, with a box on your head
Later, we'd talk and you'd tell me to not to fret
You said you'd wait until the time was right
I wonder if you knew you were lying that night
And two years later I sit in the same imposition
Still needing to talk, still waiting for you to listen
I expect you're still where you were
Tricking and teasing, just a different girl
I wonder, do you ever feel when she cries
I bet you sit, a sociopath, and look her in the eyes
You tell her it was great, overall, a lot of fun
But you're over her now; it might as well be done
I used to wonder how you came to be so sadistic
Now I know you're just flat-out pathetic
But I know that if you hadn't used me and lied to me first
Other jerks would've done the same and it could've been worse
So thanks, I guess, in a kinda weird way
Thanks for the hurt, ache, hardship, and pain
Before you, I was doe-eyed, naive, innocent
It makes much more sense for me to be a cynic
A Jovial Goodbye from CatCooper<3
P.S. I was listening to "Dog Days Are Over" by Florence + the Machine while I typed this. I heart that song.
P.P.S. Next time....more music that doesn't suck!!
P.P.P.S. And some of it is legit hipster music....
P.P.P.P.S. And a certain legal show that has stricken my fancy....
P.P.P.P.P.S. Yes, be excited. Very excited.
Jus sayin.
Wow.
It's totally been since June that I posted.
This is awkward.
I do have an excuse. I think it's a rather good one in all honesty.
SUMMER WORK!!
Yeah, I had (for art) ten sketchbook pages, 20 photographs, and a final piece; (for english) two books, read and annotated; and (for Spanish) a book read, ten pages of questions pertaining to that book answered, 19 pages of grammar, ten quizzes, and three articles summarized.
It took from the middle of June to last night to complete. I haven't been procrastinating. Too much. I've just been busy.
BUT NOW I'M BACK!!
I've had a little plot bunny named Fred as my best friend for a while, and it tears my heart into little tiny pieces that I haven't been able to put him down on paper.
BUT NOW I CAN!!
Except that I have lots of homework, but he and I will work soon.
I'm pretty excited about finishing up one of my old challenges, but I thought I would give you an early present.
ANGSTY POETRY WITH CAT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Here it is. I wrote it in the middle of the night two weeks ago. Enjoy. Or not.
"Thanks, I Guess"
I had hat hair after wearing your Hawk cap
I didn't care 'cause you liked me back
You were shorter than me and not the most moral
Why did that matter? You called me beautiful
I think about our time and it makes me wanna cry
I'm afraid to admit to me, but I know why
I'm sick of being desired only for what lies on my skin
At the time, I believed that you actually looked within
So you sat, with a box on your head
Later, we'd talk and you'd tell me to not to fret
You said you'd wait until the time was right
I wonder if you knew you were lying that night
And two years later I sit in the same imposition
Still needing to talk, still waiting for you to listen
I expect you're still where you were
Tricking and teasing, just a different girl
I wonder, do you ever feel when she cries
I bet you sit, a sociopath, and look her in the eyes
You tell her it was great, overall, a lot of fun
But you're over her now; it might as well be done
I used to wonder how you came to be so sadistic
Now I know you're just flat-out pathetic
But I know that if you hadn't used me and lied to me first
Other jerks would've done the same and it could've been worse
So thanks, I guess, in a kinda weird way
Thanks for the hurt, ache, hardship, and pain
Before you, I was doe-eyed, naive, innocent
It makes much more sense for me to be a cynic
A Jovial Goodbye from CatCooper<3
P.S. I was listening to "Dog Days Are Over" by Florence + the Machine while I typed this. I heart that song.
P.P.S. Next time....more music that doesn't suck!!
P.P.P.S. And some of it is legit hipster music....
P.P.P.P.S. And a certain legal show that has stricken my fancy....
P.P.P.P.P.S. Yes, be excited. Very excited.
August 7, 2011
CREATIVE BURSTS OF CREATIVITY
It's what happens to me.
CREATIVE BURSTS OF CREATIVITY always come in groups. I get creative in something (ex. writing/short stories/challenges) and then it's like I can be creative in any aspect of thing. (ex. art/blogging/sometimes even poetry) Then the burst of creativity will decide it doesn't want me anymore, or I've simply done nothing with my thoughts and ideas, or I'm so stressed out I can't even begin to think about being creative, (this is definitely a run on sentence, by the way.) and then the creative burst will leave.
Why does this happen?
Because I don't keep doing things that cause me to need to be creative.
Oh yeah, that's right, that's why this blog is here. To give me and Cat distraction from other things. From other projects. To entertain the internets with stuff that doesn't suck. To be creative. To CHALLENGE us.
Ah, speaking of which, I just remembered I have a challenge for CAT!!!
But back on the original topic, (and I will deny I ever said this if and when it happens again) when Cat gives me a challenge I don't like, or don't want to do, it's really silly of me to not do it.
It's the whole point.
All I can think is..
DUH.
It's the word we use.
CHALLENGE.
We say that for a reason.
DUH.
Then it all goes full circle and the thought process repeats. That's what I've realized as I go back (with a creative burst of creativity, of course) and do challenges I either forgot about, skipped, or just got too busy to do.
Of course, I have no excuse for being too busy. Often I just won't ever feel like spending my few precious moments of free time writing.
It's sad, I know, and I am ashamed to actually say it on the blog. But it's the honest truth...
On a happier (and much more random) note,
Remember Melissa? One of the guest writers?
Yeah, she's a whovian, now. That was entirely my doing. :) (well, there was some help from the FNI, but you get what I mean)
Here I was thinking that if I couldn't get CAT to watch Doctor Who, I would never be able to get anyone to watch it with me.
Well, I was wrong.
And Cat's just not cool enough to watch a show the fun way. Out of order. :P Hahahaha...
But she's too busy with BONES and junk.
Well, maybe she can find sometime in her busy schedule of watching Bones instead of Doctor Who, to do this challenge.
What challenge, you ask?
I CHALLENGE YOU, CAT COOPER, to do what I have done. To go back, and do at least one challenge you have skipped.
Deja vu, you say? Yes, I have asked this of Cat before. Has it ever been accomplished? Not yet.
Maybe this time it will.
~P. Megz OUT!!!
CREATIVE BURSTS OF CREATIVITY always come in groups. I get creative in something (ex. writing/short stories/challenges) and then it's like I can be creative in any aspect of thing. (ex. art/blogging/sometimes even poetry) Then the burst of creativity will decide it doesn't want me anymore, or I've simply done nothing with my thoughts and ideas, or I'm so stressed out I can't even begin to think about being creative, (this is definitely a run on sentence, by the way.) and then the creative burst will leave.
Why does this happen?
Because I don't keep doing things that cause me to need to be creative.
Oh yeah, that's right, that's why this blog is here. To give me and Cat distraction from other things. From other projects. To entertain the internets with stuff that doesn't suck. To be creative. To CHALLENGE us.
Ah, speaking of which, I just remembered I have a challenge for CAT!!!
But back on the original topic, (and I will deny I ever said this if and when it happens again) when Cat gives me a challenge I don't like, or don't want to do, it's really silly of me to not do it.
It's the whole point.
All I can think is..
DUH.
It's the word we use.
CHALLENGE.
We say that for a reason.
DUH.
Then it all goes full circle and the thought process repeats. That's what I've realized as I go back (with a creative burst of creativity, of course) and do challenges I either forgot about, skipped, or just got too busy to do.
Of course, I have no excuse for being too busy. Often I just won't ever feel like spending my few precious moments of free time writing.
It's sad, I know, and I am ashamed to actually say it on the blog. But it's the honest truth...
On a happier (and much more random) note,
Remember Melissa? One of the guest writers?
Yeah, she's a whovian, now. That was entirely my doing. :) (well, there was some help from the FNI, but you get what I mean)
Here I was thinking that if I couldn't get CAT to watch Doctor Who, I would never be able to get anyone to watch it with me.
Well, I was wrong.
And Cat's just not cool enough to watch a show the fun way. Out of order. :P Hahahaha...
But she's too busy with BONES and junk.
Well, maybe she can find sometime in her busy schedule of watching Bones instead of Doctor Who, to do this challenge.
What challenge, you ask?
I CHALLENGE YOU, CAT COOPER, to do what I have done. To go back, and do at least one challenge you have skipped.
Deja vu, you say? Yes, I have asked this of Cat before. Has it ever been accomplished? Not yet.
Maybe this time it will.
~P. Megz OUT!!!
August 6, 2011
Storytime with P. Meggy "The Witch's Heart"
Firstly, I would like to point out that I do not, in fact, turn into a dragon. That would be ridiculously gross.
I know what you’re thinking, “but aren’t dragons just so cool? They breathe fire! Why would anyone not want to be a dragon?”
Oh, yes, they breathe fire, but just how many dragons have you met, exactly? Not many, I suspect. If you had met a dragon, you would know that they smell absolutely horrid, and they’re always talking in cryptic riddles. It’s extremely annoying trying to decide if “the waters will return to the empty riverbeds” means “there’s going to be drought” or “I’m thirsty.”
Secondly, I’m not evil. Witches are always made to look bad and evil.
I have a heart, at least. I’m just as human as any of you, if you don’t count magic powers. So, I’m not that evil, anyway.
No, no, I take that back, I have been extremely evil sometimes. But there was that one time, with Snow-whatever-her-name-was; it wasn’t my fault that time. I told her not to drink all the apple cider. I warned her that I saw someone spike it. But, no, she wouldn’t listen, and then she went and told her seven midgets that it was all my fault.
But that’s beside the point.
I know you’ve heard the story, the one about the little baby who is cursed by an evil witch, so on her sixteenth birthday she would prick her finger, blah, blah, blah.
This time, oh yes, I was evil. But I was also in love. Love makes me just as human as any of you. Love was my undoing.
Originally, she was supposed to die when she pricked her finger. It was all because of my stupid sister that changed it where she would only fall asleep. And yes, I admit it, cursing someone to die just because they poked their finger was probably a little bit rash, but my dearest sister doesn’t have to ruin all my plans.
Sorry. Anyway, my sister couldn’t completely reverse my curse; nope, I’m too good for that. But she made it where the girl wouldn’t die, but would be taking an eternally long beauty nap.
Only to be saved by true love’s kiss.
A ridiculous alternative to death, in my opinion. You might as well die if you're planning to sleep forever. They call death 'sleep' sometimes for a reason.
My solution was simple; I could not let her true love find her. When she fell asleep, I tricked the prince into my castle. I would keep him there forever.
I suppose it wasn’t the most foolproof plan.
I honestly thought that the prince would fall in love with me. I should have known no one loves the witches. No one even likes the witches! They like fairies and princesses and happy endings where the the witch is evil and she never gets what she wants. But, oh, I tried. I had loved him from afar all my life, why shouldn’t he love me instead of her? I cared for him, gave him anything in the world he wanted. Where was she? Oh yes, that's right, she was sleeping.
With magic, you would suspect I would be able to do anything. I tried everything to make him love me. I changed my appearance, my voice, and I even tried to change my personality. Only a little bit. Nothing mattered, the stupid boy just kept on and on about the girl he met in the woods. Even if I had changed myself into a completely different person, I'd end up being a silly girl with a flower and a broken heart.
Of course I realized that he didn’t know who the princess was. He couldn’t ever find her, I thought, even if I let him go. But I wouldn’t even take that chance. He simply had to love me.
Why wouldn’t he?
I thought about letting him go. There’s that silly old saying about if you really love something, you have to let it go. And if it loves you, it’ll come back. I couldn’t do it, though. I was terrified that if I let him leave, there would be no chance that he would return.
I thought I loved him.
Eventually, it came to the point where it pained me just to look at him. Do you know what it’s like to look at someone, to love them, and know that they love someone else?
I doubt you do. You wouldn’t understand. You still think I’m the evil pimply green witch who turns into a dragon.
At first, I kept him in my castle because of love. Then it was out of spite. Finally, it was just nothing. No feelings, just emptiness. Hate would be the next step.
I hated the prince, the princess, my sisters, and the world. Dragons? Hate them. Cauldrons? Hate them. Rainbows and daisies? I hate them, too.
If I hated him so much, I wondered, why did I still cry at night when I knew he loved her?
Eventually, I had to let him go. It all hurt too much. He was nothing to me anymore. It was becoming unhealthy. But as for finding the sleeping princess, I made it as difficult for him as possible.
To love her rather than me, he would have to work for it. He would pay dearly for making that mistake.
Even if it means I need to turn into a stinking purple dragon.
I know what you’re thinking, “but aren’t dragons just so cool? They breathe fire! Why would anyone not want to be a dragon?”
Oh, yes, they breathe fire, but just how many dragons have you met, exactly? Not many, I suspect. If you had met a dragon, you would know that they smell absolutely horrid, and they’re always talking in cryptic riddles. It’s extremely annoying trying to decide if “the waters will return to the empty riverbeds” means “there’s going to be drought” or “I’m thirsty.”
Secondly, I’m not evil. Witches are always made to look bad and evil.
I have a heart, at least. I’m just as human as any of you, if you don’t count magic powers. So, I’m not that evil, anyway.
No, no, I take that back, I have been extremely evil sometimes. But there was that one time, with Snow-whatever-her-name-was; it wasn’t my fault that time. I told her not to drink all the apple cider. I warned her that I saw someone spike it. But, no, she wouldn’t listen, and then she went and told her seven midgets that it was all my fault.
But that’s beside the point.
I know you’ve heard the story, the one about the little baby who is cursed by an evil witch, so on her sixteenth birthday she would prick her finger, blah, blah, blah.
This time, oh yes, I was evil. But I was also in love. Love makes me just as human as any of you. Love was my undoing.
Originally, she was supposed to die when she pricked her finger. It was all because of my stupid sister that changed it where she would only fall asleep. And yes, I admit it, cursing someone to die just because they poked their finger was probably a little bit rash, but my dearest sister doesn’t have to ruin all my plans.
Sorry. Anyway, my sister couldn’t completely reverse my curse; nope, I’m too good for that. But she made it where the girl wouldn’t die, but would be taking an eternally long beauty nap.
Only to be saved by true love’s kiss.
A ridiculous alternative to death, in my opinion. You might as well die if you're planning to sleep forever. They call death 'sleep' sometimes for a reason.
My solution was simple; I could not let her true love find her. When she fell asleep, I tricked the prince into my castle. I would keep him there forever.
I suppose it wasn’t the most foolproof plan.
I honestly thought that the prince would fall in love with me. I should have known no one loves the witches. No one even likes the witches! They like fairies and princesses and happy endings where the the witch is evil and she never gets what she wants. But, oh, I tried. I had loved him from afar all my life, why shouldn’t he love me instead of her? I cared for him, gave him anything in the world he wanted. Where was she? Oh yes, that's right, she was sleeping.
With magic, you would suspect I would be able to do anything. I tried everything to make him love me. I changed my appearance, my voice, and I even tried to change my personality. Only a little bit. Nothing mattered, the stupid boy just kept on and on about the girl he met in the woods. Even if I had changed myself into a completely different person, I'd end up being a silly girl with a flower and a broken heart.
Of course I realized that he didn’t know who the princess was. He couldn’t ever find her, I thought, even if I let him go. But I wouldn’t even take that chance. He simply had to love me.
Why wouldn’t he?
I thought about letting him go. There’s that silly old saying about if you really love something, you have to let it go. And if it loves you, it’ll come back. I couldn’t do it, though. I was terrified that if I let him leave, there would be no chance that he would return.
I thought I loved him.
Eventually, it came to the point where it pained me just to look at him. Do you know what it’s like to look at someone, to love them, and know that they love someone else?
I doubt you do. You wouldn’t understand. You still think I’m the evil pimply green witch who turns into a dragon.
At first, I kept him in my castle because of love. Then it was out of spite. Finally, it was just nothing. No feelings, just emptiness. Hate would be the next step.
I hated the prince, the princess, my sisters, and the world. Dragons? Hate them. Cauldrons? Hate them. Rainbows and daisies? I hate them, too.
If I hated him so much, I wondered, why did I still cry at night when I knew he loved her?
Eventually, I had to let him go. It all hurt too much. He was nothing to me anymore. It was becoming unhealthy. But as for finding the sleeping princess, I made it as difficult for him as possible.
To love her rather than me, he would have to work for it. He would pay dearly for making that mistake.
Even if it means I need to turn into a stinking purple dragon.
Storytime with P. Meggy "I'm Not That Girl"
Abby Childress is my best friend.
She’s amazing at everything, soccer especially. It feels like she’s always got one letter grade higher than me. Plus, I’m an A or B student, it’s not like I get terrible grades. We’re in all the same classes, and most of the time we work together. She’s absolutely gorgeous, and I love her to pieces for not being one of those girls.
You know what I mean. One of those girls.
She likes to be different, not in the “I’m acting out and trying to get attention” kind of way. For her, it’s more like “I don’t really care what other people think, so I’m going to do whatever the heck I want to.”
Let me tell you, Abby can rock it. She played on the boys’ soccer team last year, because there weren’t any rules against it and because she could. She could beat any guy on the team in a foot race, and no one can match her in skills. It’s great to watch. She bleached her hair so blonde once it was nearly white, just to have an unnatural color that wasn’t against school rules. She does stuff like that.
People just adore Abby. She doesn’t try to be popular. She doesn’t even try to be fashionable, but whatever she wears looks awesome on her. She just wears whatever she thought felt right that day, and most importantly, it would be comfortable. Get one thing straight, though. Abby isn’t major anorexic skinny. It’s not like she’s fat or anything, either. She’s actually perfectly on the average for her age and height. She doesn’t have that amazing tan either, she just doesn’t tan. People don’t seem to notice that.
It’s hard to feel pretty standing next to Abby.
Hey, don’t get me wrong. I’m not some girl who stands in the mirror wishing they were somebody else. No, people tell me I’m pretty, and I don’t have a problem with how I look. Most of the time. Sometimes, I just feel like awkward when I’m with Abby. Like I’m made out of twigs or something. You go somewhere with Abby and then tell me how self-confident you feel.
It probably also doesn’t help that she was dating the guy I’ve had a crush on since seventh grade.
Connor Montgomery. He’s the most amazing guy I’ve ever met. He’s an artsy kind of guy, kind of musical, but not the “I’m going to join a band” kind or the “I’m going to write sappy romantic love songs” kind. He just likes to hear how notes go together, how F sharp makes the key of G sound so different. Stuff like that. He’s not super smart, but not stupid. He’s nice. He’s average. Maybe that’s why I like him, it’s like he could be the stereotypical romantic interest in any young adult novel. Well, besides the ones about vampires or werewolves and stuff, but you know what I meant.
He’s also amazing at soccer. He and Abby played together when she played for the boys’ team. They worked well together on the field. I mean, I don’t quite understand the details, I do track, and I’m not very good. The thing is, even I could tell they had...well, chemistry.
Of course, Abby doesn’t know I had a crush on him. At least, I never told her. But she wouldn’t date him if she knew. Well, I like to think she wouldn’t. I don’t think she would...
They were like the super teen girl’s dream power couple. People say they’re adorable together. People said they would never break up.
Everything about Abby and Connor was perfect.
That is, until they actually did break up.
It was a Saturday, and I was still in the clothes I had slept in, reading a book I had bought the day before. I was on the last chapter when Abby called me.
“Yes?”
“Hey. Are you home?” was the first thing she said to me. I could hear that she was angry. It wasn’t just any kind of angry, it was an “I’m about to punch someone’s lights out” angry. Or an “I’m going to beat someone with a palm tree and then take their heart out and show it to them before they die” kind of angry. Furious might be the better word, actually.
“Yeah, what’s up? Are you okay?” I heard her radio blaring in the background, playing some scream-o song with a really awful guitar part, but I wasn’t planning to point that out.
“No, I’m about to kill someone and I hope it’s doesn’t end up being you. Is it alright if I come over?”
“Depends on if you’re actually going to try and murder me.” I said, trying to get a laugh from her.
No response.
I sighed. “Yeah, it’s fine.”
“Good, because I’m pulling onto your street.” She said, and hung up.
I ran downstairs, still in my PJs, and threw open the front door just in time to see Abby rocket down my driveway. When she got out and slammed the door, I worried for a moment just how serious she was about murdering someone. It all melted away when she got to me.
“Sid, I broke up with him.” She said as the tears began to fall. “He was dating another girl. He was cheating on me, Sidney!”
I hugged her for a long time, there on my front porch. Eventually, we went inside, and I tried to distract her with anything. We talked about my book, TV, music, anything but the fact that Connor was a cheater. Everything that didn’t have to do with relationships.
It was hours before she left to go back home.
The next person at my door was Connor Montgomery.
“What do you want?” I asked, crossing my arms. I couldn’t help but be mad at him, I mean, he had broken my best friend’s heart earlier today.
“I was looking for Abby; I was told she was here.” He said, looking all sorts of distressed and somehow still attractive. No, not attractive, liars aren’t attractive.
“She left. Thirty minutes ago.”
The corner of his mouth lifted into a little grin. “I thought you would say that.”
Hundreds of thoughts were rushing through my head. Primarily, “What does he mean ‘I thought you would say that?’” and “Oh my gosh, I’m standing on my front porch with a guy wearing pajama pants and an oversized T-shirt.”
Thankfully, I only voiced the former.
“Breaking up with Abby...well, it made me realize why I went out with her in the first place.”
“What?”
“How do I put this without seeming like a jerk?” Connor said, running his fingers through his hair. It wasn’t fair how he could do that and still look cute afterwards. If I did that, I’d end up looking like I had some nasty bed head.
“A jerk?” I forced a laugh. “Connor, you were cheating on my best friend.”
He shook his head and sighed. “I wasn’t cheating on her. I wouldn’t do that. Abby wouldn’t listen to the whole story. You know how she is...”
“Whatever. Sorry, Connor, if I choose to believe Abby before I believe you.”
“I didn’t cheat on her, Sidney! You know I wouldn’t!” He was pacing, now, back and forth in front of my front door. “I wouldn’t cheat on her, because I only dated her to get to know you! I only wanted to get close to you!”
He stopped pacing, now, and turned to face me. The expression of surprise he wore, mirrored mine. We stared at each other for a moment, not quite knowing what to say.
“I finally said it.” Connor said.
“That is an awful thing to do, Connor. Do you think I’d want to know you, now? Now that I know everything you and Abby had was a lie? She adored you, Connor!”
“It wasn’t, no...That’s not what I meant, Sidney. Just hear me out. The whole thing, and not just what Abby told you.”
“I’m listening.”
He started pacing again. “The girl Abby saw me with was my cousin. My cousin, Sid! I tried to explain it to her, but she wouldn’t listen to me. She started shouting at me, and finally she broke it off, and left.”
“Well, if you never really wanted to date her, I guess that wasn’t a big problem, was it?”
I was shaking. I didn’t know who to believe at this point. What if Connor was telling me the truth? Abby really was prone to get mad and not listen to the whole story. It sounded like something she would do. But she was my best friend; I would believe her any day over some dumb boy. Best friends. I’d never lie to her.
But she had lied to me. It was never anything this important, and it wasn’t ever a really big deal. She had ditched me before, for cooler friends. She may be my best friend, but to her, I was expendable.
What if I chose to believe Connor? I could be wrong, and he could really be a two-timer. In the end, everything would fall apart the same way it did for Abby. But unlike Abby, I wouldn’t have a best friend to go to when it really did.
What if I was right? Abby would hate me forever, but her life would be in pieces. I mean, I have had a crush on Connor since seventh grade. If he was telling the truth, he was with his cousin, and he likes me. He wanted to get to know me. Abby may not be happy, but I could find someone else to be friends with. I’d be happy.
But I’m not one of those girls.
Am I?
She’s amazing at everything, soccer especially. It feels like she’s always got one letter grade higher than me. Plus, I’m an A or B student, it’s not like I get terrible grades. We’re in all the same classes, and most of the time we work together. She’s absolutely gorgeous, and I love her to pieces for not being one of those girls.
You know what I mean. One of those girls.
She likes to be different, not in the “I’m acting out and trying to get attention” kind of way. For her, it’s more like “I don’t really care what other people think, so I’m going to do whatever the heck I want to.”
Let me tell you, Abby can rock it. She played on the boys’ soccer team last year, because there weren’t any rules against it and because she could. She could beat any guy on the team in a foot race, and no one can match her in skills. It’s great to watch. She bleached her hair so blonde once it was nearly white, just to have an unnatural color that wasn’t against school rules. She does stuff like that.
People just adore Abby. She doesn’t try to be popular. She doesn’t even try to be fashionable, but whatever she wears looks awesome on her. She just wears whatever she thought felt right that day, and most importantly, it would be comfortable. Get one thing straight, though. Abby isn’t major anorexic skinny. It’s not like she’s fat or anything, either. She’s actually perfectly on the average for her age and height. She doesn’t have that amazing tan either, she just doesn’t tan. People don’t seem to notice that.
It’s hard to feel pretty standing next to Abby.
Hey, don’t get me wrong. I’m not some girl who stands in the mirror wishing they were somebody else. No, people tell me I’m pretty, and I don’t have a problem with how I look. Most of the time. Sometimes, I just feel like awkward when I’m with Abby. Like I’m made out of twigs or something. You go somewhere with Abby and then tell me how self-confident you feel.
It probably also doesn’t help that she was dating the guy I’ve had a crush on since seventh grade.
Connor Montgomery. He’s the most amazing guy I’ve ever met. He’s an artsy kind of guy, kind of musical, but not the “I’m going to join a band” kind or the “I’m going to write sappy romantic love songs” kind. He just likes to hear how notes go together, how F sharp makes the key of G sound so different. Stuff like that. He’s not super smart, but not stupid. He’s nice. He’s average. Maybe that’s why I like him, it’s like he could be the stereotypical romantic interest in any young adult novel. Well, besides the ones about vampires or werewolves and stuff, but you know what I meant.
He’s also amazing at soccer. He and Abby played together when she played for the boys’ team. They worked well together on the field. I mean, I don’t quite understand the details, I do track, and I’m not very good. The thing is, even I could tell they had...well, chemistry.
Of course, Abby doesn’t know I had a crush on him. At least, I never told her. But she wouldn’t date him if she knew. Well, I like to think she wouldn’t. I don’t think she would...
They were like the super teen girl’s dream power couple. People say they’re adorable together. People said they would never break up.
Everything about Abby and Connor was perfect.
That is, until they actually did break up.
It was a Saturday, and I was still in the clothes I had slept in, reading a book I had bought the day before. I was on the last chapter when Abby called me.
“Yes?”
“Hey. Are you home?” was the first thing she said to me. I could hear that she was angry. It wasn’t just any kind of angry, it was an “I’m about to punch someone’s lights out” angry. Or an “I’m going to beat someone with a palm tree and then take their heart out and show it to them before they die” kind of angry. Furious might be the better word, actually.
“Yeah, what’s up? Are you okay?” I heard her radio blaring in the background, playing some scream-o song with a really awful guitar part, but I wasn’t planning to point that out.
“No, I’m about to kill someone and I hope it’s doesn’t end up being you. Is it alright if I come over?”
“Depends on if you’re actually going to try and murder me.” I said, trying to get a laugh from her.
No response.
I sighed. “Yeah, it’s fine.”
“Good, because I’m pulling onto your street.” She said, and hung up.
I ran downstairs, still in my PJs, and threw open the front door just in time to see Abby rocket down my driveway. When she got out and slammed the door, I worried for a moment just how serious she was about murdering someone. It all melted away when she got to me.
“Sid, I broke up with him.” She said as the tears began to fall. “He was dating another girl. He was cheating on me, Sidney!”
I hugged her for a long time, there on my front porch. Eventually, we went inside, and I tried to distract her with anything. We talked about my book, TV, music, anything but the fact that Connor was a cheater. Everything that didn’t have to do with relationships.
It was hours before she left to go back home.
The next person at my door was Connor Montgomery.
“What do you want?” I asked, crossing my arms. I couldn’t help but be mad at him, I mean, he had broken my best friend’s heart earlier today.
“I was looking for Abby; I was told she was here.” He said, looking all sorts of distressed and somehow still attractive. No, not attractive, liars aren’t attractive.
“She left. Thirty minutes ago.”
The corner of his mouth lifted into a little grin. “I thought you would say that.”
Hundreds of thoughts were rushing through my head. Primarily, “What does he mean ‘I thought you would say that?’” and “Oh my gosh, I’m standing on my front porch with a guy wearing pajama pants and an oversized T-shirt.”
Thankfully, I only voiced the former.
“Breaking up with Abby...well, it made me realize why I went out with her in the first place.”
“What?”
“How do I put this without seeming like a jerk?” Connor said, running his fingers through his hair. It wasn’t fair how he could do that and still look cute afterwards. If I did that, I’d end up looking like I had some nasty bed head.
“A jerk?” I forced a laugh. “Connor, you were cheating on my best friend.”
He shook his head and sighed. “I wasn’t cheating on her. I wouldn’t do that. Abby wouldn’t listen to the whole story. You know how she is...”
“Whatever. Sorry, Connor, if I choose to believe Abby before I believe you.”
“I didn’t cheat on her, Sidney! You know I wouldn’t!” He was pacing, now, back and forth in front of my front door. “I wouldn’t cheat on her, because I only dated her to get to know you! I only wanted to get close to you!”
He stopped pacing, now, and turned to face me. The expression of surprise he wore, mirrored mine. We stared at each other for a moment, not quite knowing what to say.
“I finally said it.” Connor said.
“That is an awful thing to do, Connor. Do you think I’d want to know you, now? Now that I know everything you and Abby had was a lie? She adored you, Connor!”
“It wasn’t, no...That’s not what I meant, Sidney. Just hear me out. The whole thing, and not just what Abby told you.”
“I’m listening.”
He started pacing again. “The girl Abby saw me with was my cousin. My cousin, Sid! I tried to explain it to her, but she wouldn’t listen to me. She started shouting at me, and finally she broke it off, and left.”
“Well, if you never really wanted to date her, I guess that wasn’t a big problem, was it?”
I was shaking. I didn’t know who to believe at this point. What if Connor was telling me the truth? Abby really was prone to get mad and not listen to the whole story. It sounded like something she would do. But she was my best friend; I would believe her any day over some dumb boy. Best friends. I’d never lie to her.
But she had lied to me. It was never anything this important, and it wasn’t ever a really big deal. She had ditched me before, for cooler friends. She may be my best friend, but to her, I was expendable.
What if I chose to believe Connor? I could be wrong, and he could really be a two-timer. In the end, everything would fall apart the same way it did for Abby. But unlike Abby, I wouldn’t have a best friend to go to when it really did.
What if I was right? Abby would hate me forever, but her life would be in pieces. I mean, I have had a crush on Connor since seventh grade. If he was telling the truth, he was with his cousin, and he likes me. He wanted to get to know me. Abby may not be happy, but I could find someone else to be friends with. I’d be happy.
But I’m not one of those girls.
Am I?
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, PLOT BUNNIES!!!
(I can't believe it. I fell asleep. While blogging. On the plotbunnies birthday. That's really awful...)
1. It's the plot bunnies' birthday! HOORAH!!!
2. DON'T. give. them. CAKE.
3. So, there's not going to be a great big celebration, because Cat is not going to be any fun and is not blogging.
4. I KNOW! SAD, RIGHT?!?
5. I love doing challenges I missed! It makes me feel better about missing them!
6. So, for me to celebrate the plot bunnies' birthday, the rest of this list is dedicated to fun memories and blog posts. (My favorites)
7. THE FIRST EVER BLOG POST (and Cat's first rant!)
8. THE FIRST EVER FRIDAY FIFTEEN
9. my first challenge! and Cat's first challenge!
10. Ethan and Shane's first appearance
11. Guest writers, guest writers, guest writers, and GUEST WRITERS!
12. Cat's BIRTHDAY and my BIRTHDAY
13. Some of my favorite stories we've posted
14. RANDOM
15. the infamous SQUEE for ten followers
~P. Megz OUT!!!
1. It's the plot bunnies' birthday! HOORAH!!!
2. DON'T. give. them. CAKE.
3. So, there's not going to be a great big celebration, because Cat is not going to be any fun and is not blogging.
4. I KNOW! SAD, RIGHT?!?
5. I love doing challenges I missed! It makes me feel better about missing them!
6. So, for me to celebrate the plot bunnies' birthday, the rest of this list is dedicated to fun memories and blog posts. (My favorites)
7. THE FIRST EVER BLOG POST (and Cat's first rant!)
8. THE FIRST EVER FRIDAY FIFTEEN
9. my first challenge! and Cat's first challenge!
10. Ethan and Shane's first appearance
11. Guest writers, guest writers, guest writers, and GUEST WRITERS!
12. Cat's BIRTHDAY and my BIRTHDAY
13. Some of my favorite stories we've posted
14. RANDOM
15. the infamous SQUEE for ten followers
~P. Megz OUT!!!
August 4, 2011
Poetry from P. Meggy...oh my...
"Le Faucon Noir"
Let me tell you a tale,
a story no one knows,
of two loves who died together,
both hanging from the gallows.
She was a young English beauty,
with hair colored gold,
and a dazzling smile.
She would never grow old.
He was a pirate, The Black Falcon,
a known liar, theif and outlaw,
but the Falcon was clever,
he always eluded the law.
He met her at night,
under the cover of darkness.
He promised her riches, stars and moon,
but could love him no less.
They danced together,
under light of the moon,
cherishing those moments,
his ship would sail soon.
He raided royal ships,
earned a price on his head,
the Navy would capture him,
be it living or dead.
The Falcon laughed in their faces,
and slipped through their fingers.
His head they couldn't have,
but they could take hers.
They gave him a choise,
of her or the sea,
she could live on without him,
or he could stay free.
So he gave himself up,
and sailed his ship in,
to save his lover's life,
he went to the king's men.
"Remember me," he told her,
as he was led to the rope,
tears came to her eyes,
for him there was no hope.
But she tried, anyway,
to save her dying sailor,
with a stolen sword,
she murdered the jailer.
Despite all her efforts,
the soldiers were fast.
They imprisoned her also,
now this day was her last.
When the moon is bright,
and the stars are out,
they say you can see,
ghosts dancing about.
It is the pirate,
and his gold-haired girl,
they still dance together,
at night they still twirl.
So if ever you wonder,
what happened to the pair,
go and visit the gallows,
you will find them there.
Let me tell you a tale,
a story no one knows,
of two loves who died together,
both hanging from the gallows.
She was a young English beauty,
with hair colored gold,
and a dazzling smile.
She would never grow old.
He was a pirate, The Black Falcon,
a known liar, theif and outlaw,
but the Falcon was clever,
he always eluded the law.
He met her at night,
under the cover of darkness.
He promised her riches, stars and moon,
but could love him no less.
They danced together,
under light of the moon,
cherishing those moments,
his ship would sail soon.
He raided royal ships,
earned a price on his head,
the Navy would capture him,
be it living or dead.
The Falcon laughed in their faces,
and slipped through their fingers.
His head they couldn't have,
but they could take hers.
They gave him a choise,
of her or the sea,
she could live on without him,
or he could stay free.
So he gave himself up,
and sailed his ship in,
to save his lover's life,
he went to the king's men.
"Remember me," he told her,
as he was led to the rope,
tears came to her eyes,
for him there was no hope.
But she tried, anyway,
to save her dying sailor,
with a stolen sword,
she murdered the jailer.
Despite all her efforts,
the soldiers were fast.
They imprisoned her also,
now this day was her last.
When the moon is bright,
and the stars are out,
they say you can see,
ghosts dancing about.
It is the pirate,
and his gold-haired girl,
they still dance together,
at night they still twirl.
So if ever you wonder,
what happened to the pair,
go and visit the gallows,
you will find them there.
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