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Digging Graves

I STILL DON'T KNOW. How Fast We Run. Thursday, June 6, 2013. In all of those television shows and books where they have zombie apocalypses they always make them seem like ignorant flies. But they were smarter than that—they were so much smarter than that. They were extremely sensitive, they could hear you breathe, they could smell that you’re alive, they could feel your heart beat. They knew you were alive or dead, and they knew how to kill you. He put his paw up on my leg, reaching up toward me. Weakly ...

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Digging Graves | mydeadlygrace.blogspot.com Reviews

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I STILL DON'T KNOW. How Fast We Run. Thursday, June 6, 2013. In all of those television shows and books where they have zombie apocalypses they always make them seem like ignorant flies. But they were smarter than that—they were so much smarter than that. They were extremely sensitive, they could hear you breathe, they could smell that you’re alive, they could feel your heart beat. They knew you were alive or dead, and they knew how to kill you. He put his paw up on my leg, reaching up toward me. Weakly ...

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Digging Graves | mydeadlygrace.blogspot.com Reviews

https://mydeadlygrace.blogspot.com

I STILL DON'T KNOW. How Fast We Run. Thursday, June 6, 2013. In all of those television shows and books where they have zombie apocalypses they always make them seem like ignorant flies. But they were smarter than that—they were so much smarter than that. They were extremely sensitive, they could hear you breathe, they could smell that you’re alive, they could feel your heart beat. They knew you were alive or dead, and they knew how to kill you. He put his paw up on my leg, reaching up toward me. Weakly ...

INTERNAL PAGES

mydeadlygrace.blogspot.com

1

Digging Graves: Infected

http://www.mydeadlygrace.blogspot.com/2013/06/infected.html

I STILL DON'T KNOW. How Fast We Run. Thursday, June 6, 2013. In all of those television shows and books where they have zombie apocalypses they always make them seem like ignorant flies. But they were smarter than that—they were so much smarter than that. They were extremely sensitive, they could hear you breathe, they could smell that you’re alive, they could feel your heart beat. They knew you were alive or dead, and they knew how to kill you. He put his paw up on my leg, reaching up toward me. 2 Angel...

2

Digging Graves: May 2013

http://www.mydeadlygrace.blogspot.com/2013_05_01_archive.html

I STILL DON'T KNOW. How Fast We Run. Tuesday, May 28, 2013. I STILL DON'T KNOW HOW TO FEEL ABOUT THIS. Weakly I stumbled, over the past two or three days I had lost way too much blood to his torture. But I decided that I needed water, even if that meant possible death. 8220;H- He- H- Help! 8221; Someone yelled. Slowly I turned into a room, a boy who looked barely scratched had his hands tied up. 8220;Oh my god,” he said as I staggered toward him. 8220;What’re you doing out of your room? 8221; He said.

3

Digging Graves: Reincarnated Pt. 1

http://www.mydeadlygrace.blogspot.com/2013/05/reincarnated-pt-1.html

I STILL DON'T KNOW. How Fast We Run. Wednesday, May 1, 2013. Reincarnated Pt. 1. Second part to "Virus" (make sure to read it first). 8220;Wh- What is this? 8221; Josh stuttered. We weren’t greeted by what we thought we’d be greeted by. Our feet were soaked in green grass, an indigo sky stared at us. Off in the distance fuzzy yellow lights were visible. 8220;Where do we go? 8221; I swallowed my fear and stood tall. 8220;Toward those lights I guess.” He squeezed my hand. 8220;Yeah, Phoebe? Now I was in no...

4

Digging Graves: Virus/Reincarnated

http://www.mydeadlygrace.blogspot.com/p/virus.html

I STILL DON'T KNOW. How Fast We Run. Ashi ran down the path our father had made in the forest. Her frizzy red hair sprung out from her head, standing out in the emerald greenery of the forest. 8220;Slow down, Ashi! 8221; I called out, running after her. 8221; She giggled, running faster. 8221; This wasn’t fun anymore. 8220;You have to catch me! 8221; She sprinted. 8220;Stop. Now.” I quit running, now I was mad. 8221; Ashi stopped about twenty feet in front of me. 8221; I stepped closer to her. 8220;I&#82...

5

Digging Graves: April 2013

http://www.mydeadlygrace.blogspot.com/2013_04_01_archive.html

I STILL DON'T KNOW. How Fast We Run. Tuesday, April 16, 2013. 8220;Are you okay? 8221; Someone called out. At this point I couldn’t respond, all I could do was sit. 8220;Are you okay? 8221; The voice was right next to me, everything was still blurry. 8220;I um.” I said as I carefully touched my head. 8220;How many fingers am I holding up? 8221; The voice asked. Slowly the words were belonging to a person, a blurry person. 8221; I guessed, flopping backward. 8220;You’ll be okay! 8220;What was that for?

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No Need To Cry Over Spilled Ink: Stuck

http://no-need-to-cry-over-spilled-ink.blogspot.com/2013/05/authors-note-this-short-poem-was.html

No Need To Cry Over Spilled Ink. A room without books is like a body without a soul" -Marcus Tullius Cicero. Thursday, May 2, 2013. Sometimes I feel like this tree. Just out on my own. Even though birds pass over. Or even land on the branches. They don’t stay for very long. To earn my trust. And then to throw it back in my face. As they fly away. And here I sit. Letting the cool waves. They are never powerful enough. To knock me over. To discourage me from moving. With a blindfold on. 1 of 48 (2%).

no-need-to-cry-over-spilled-ink.blogspot.com

No Need To Cry Over Spilled Ink: Changing The Stereotype

http://no-need-to-cry-over-spilled-ink.blogspot.com/2013/05/changing-stereotype.html

No Need To Cry Over Spilled Ink. A room without books is like a body without a soul" -Marcus Tullius Cicero. Tuesday, May 28, 2013. Author's Note: For my District Writing Assessment Piece, I went back and edited my most recent essay, which also happened to be my most complex and challenging piece. I went through and changed many things with the mechanics and grammar, but I also changed some sentences around so that they get my point across more. Whether it be in the workplace or just in everyday life, wh...

cassidysawesomespot.blogspot.com

When They Find You...: 13 Seconds

http://cassidysawesomespot.blogspot.com/p/13-seconds.html

When They Find You. Of Lies and Secrets. Authors Note:The second part of this story is up. It is under the 13 Days tab. Oh sorry. What was the question again? I was just wondering, what is so interesting outside that window? Nothing, I was just listening.". Well unless the voices in your head can teach you how to graph a parabola then I advise that you pay attention! I hope you are.". My classmates sit, closed off and hiding from the teacher's wrath. It isn't my fault that the lesson stopped! I delve bac...

cassidysawesomespot.blogspot.com

When They Find You...: Tales to Tells

http://cassidysawesomespot.blogspot.com/2013/05/tales-to-tells.html

When They Find You. Of Lies and Secrets. Author's Note: This is my piece on Ernest Hemingway, working on the skill of text analysis. Comments appreciated. Professional poker players make a living off of reading people. They learn that most players react when they get a good hand. This is called a tell. But authors can have tells too. Take Ernest Hemingway for example. A careful reader can easily tell when something is important in a Hemingway story by looking for his tells. A Gathering of Thought.

cassidysawesomespot.blogspot.com

When They Find You...: Maybe I'll Write This

http://cassidysawesomespot.blogspot.com/2013/05/they-give-you-aname.html

When They Find You. Of Lies and Secrets. Maybe I'll Write This. Author's Note: Let me know if this sounds interesting. They give you a name. They tell you that you are safe. Are you really safe? What do they want? I don't understand this word.". Sound it out for me.". Do you know what that means? You should never say that word Alice". Its one of the forbidden ones.". Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom). A Gathering of Thought. No Need To Cry Over Spilled Ink. Bursts Of Arbitrary Thought.

cassidysawesomespot.blogspot.com

When They Find You...: Hey Look!

http://cassidysawesomespot.blogspot.com/2013/06/hey-look.html

When They Find You. Of Lies and Secrets. I've started a choose-your-own-adventure story on this blog! Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom). A Gathering of Thought. No Need To Cry Over Spilled Ink. Bursts Of Arbitrary Thought. People are like apples on trees. The best ones are at the top of. Picture Window template. Template images by LonelySnailDesign.

cassidysawesomespot.blogspot.com

When They Find You...: Ode to the Dead Cat-Girl

http://cassidysawesomespot.blogspot.com/2013/05/ode-to-dead-cat-girl.html

When They Find You. Of Lies and Secrets. Ode to the Dead Cat-Girl. Author's Note: In class we had to write odes, but with a twist. They had to be in the character that we created or chose last class. Comment's appreciated. You were a big miracle. In a small box. What strength the messiahs granted! What skill in the hunt! Until the day that it would all float away. Your friend knew when he heard the first. That the safest place. For one so small. Was hidden and far away. You watched as he died.

cassidysawesomespot.blogspot.com

When They Find You...: 13 Years

http://cassidysawesomespot.blogspot.com/p/authors-note-this-is-third-part-in-my.html

When They Find You. Of Lies and Secrets. Author's Note: This is the third part in my series of 13 stories. First is 13 Seconds, then 13 Days. And now I give you 13 Years (part 1). More to come and comments appreciated! Can you hear me Moriah? Much has happened since that day. It’s been thirteen years. Of course a lot has happened. So how’s Mom and Dad? Well Mother kicked Father out soon after I came home. And Mother is rather ill. And I don’t think your friends really like me. I can’t do this!

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Digging Graves

I STILL DON'T KNOW. How Fast We Run. Thursday, June 6, 2013. In all of those television shows and books where they have zombie apocalypses they always make them seem like ignorant flies. But they were smarter than that—they were so much smarter than that. They were extremely sensitive, they could hear you breathe, they could smell that you’re alive, they could feel your heart beat. They knew you were alive or dead, and they knew how to kill you. He put his paw up on my leg, reaching up toward me. Weakly ...

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Dead Inside.

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