(Happy) Halloween!

I know it is a day late, but.... Happy Halloween! For all you boils and ghouls out there, I had a great Halloween. There were a few downs, but we won't really focus on those. Sound good? Good.

Alright. My day started off with me completely forgetting it was Halloween. I know, right? I'm so smart. I went to seminary like usual, and walked in the door and didn't really notice that people were dressed up (they were very subtle costumes, I promise). So naturally, I didn't remember then. When I went downstairs to seminary class, I noticed our substitute teacher was wearing a rugby uniform, and when I asked Aileen why, she told me there was a rugby game on TV last night. My reaction? "AUUUGGGH! And I MISSED it???!??!?!" To which she laughed at me. Don't make fun of me, I like rugby, okay?

After that, I went to school. I wish I hadn't. The outfits some of these people wore... Makes me wish we would have a blizzard on Halloween from now on. It was horrible. I swear they wore lingerie to school, including the incredibly overweight people.

It was a half day at school on Halloween, so my last class of the day was ICT1, (as it usually is on White days), and you all-who-read-my-blog know what that means: another journal to freak my teacher out! Yay! No journal prompts she gives us are safe anymore, and I think she is giving up on trying to get me to stop. I keep freaking out my teacher, and now she thinks I'm some weird, messed up, crazy psychopath on my way to murder everyone on the planet.

To clarify, I'm not.

But, as promised, I do have my rather long journal entry for you guys to read. Are you ready for it? No? Well tough, because here it is:

October 31, 2012
There was no moon and the lightning was flashing on this Halloween night...

   It was my perfect opportunity, my chance to finish what I had started. I was hiding, deep in the forest close to where the haunted house was. One of the features of the haunted house that this small, secluded town was putting on, was a walk through the haunted forest. Everyone went to it, such was the way of a small town. I was hidden, standing by several tall trees that were difficult to be seen in the black night. I was dressed in black skinny jeans, with a black sweater hugging my body, black gloves over my pale hands, and a black hat to cover my hair. Only my face could be seen. I was a part of this, a part of the scariest bit of Halloween. I was desperate to make this my night to shine.
   I had a knife with me, as part of my costume. Usually they didn’t allow this, but this year was different. My knife was about a foot long, with rusty, serrated edges and fake, dried blood at the base and splattered along the edges. It was realistic, even to me, who loved horror even though it scared me to bits. I stood there, secluded in my grove of trees, somewhat close to the path. It was my job to pick the people of the group who I thought were going to be frightened the most, and to target them, giving them the fright of their lives. I heard a rustle behind me, far back in the woods, and thought nothing of it, for it was common for raccoons to be out and about this late at night.
I heard voices in the distance, saw a flicker of the flashlight that the guide used. It was never on all the way, and never on for long. They would just flash it on and off, flickering back and forth from one side of the path to the other. Lighting flashed. There was no rain, no real storm, just the bursts of bright light from the sky, intermingled with a low grumble of thunder from several occasions. To me, it just added to the theatricality. I had a bit of a dramatic appearance myself. My black clothing was splattered with fake blood as well, and it glistened as if it was moist, when the lightning shot across the sky again.
   The group of already frightened youth was walking down the path, getting closer and closer to me. I took a deep breath as I clambered up a couple of branches of my tree, silent as the grave. I took another deep breath as I sat on a branch overhanging the path. I let out a high, ear splitting, blood curdling scream, letting all my years of dramatic appearances and ideas out into one long, horrible screech. I heard yells from the people on the walk, and I sat silent once again. They spoke in low murmurs, and soon they were close enough that I could hear the terrified speech of the youth out for a fright night. As they drew closer, I braced my legs around the branch, ready to frighten them.
   They walked closer and closer. Suddenly, I swung down, hanging by just my legs from the tree, my pale face, dramatically enhanced with white face makeup, loomed out of the darkness. I had picked the most opportune time, holding my knife close up to my face so they could see it, just as the lighting cracked across the sky, and thunder boomed the loudest it had been all night. I stared straight into the face of a young girl, maybe aged 14 or so, and she took one deep breath. Her eyes started to bulge in her face, and her skin paled, and then became rather flushed. I pulled myself back up into the tree before she could scream, one minute I was hanging, the other I was up and then out of the tree, landing in the grove of trees on a blanket that was there for the express purpose of me landing quietly on the dead grass.
   I wandered around the tree, keeping myself so far into the shadows that you could not even seen my face, shining through the dark. The rustling was right behind me now, and as I turned to shoo the raccoon away, I saw a pair of red, glowing eyes staring out from behind a tree, about knee level to me. I stared at them, smirking because I believed it was just an animal. Then I felt cold, felt a chill wrap around me as the eyes slowly drew up the side of the tree, until they were up higher than I was. It stepped out from the tree, and towered over me. I stumbled a step backwards, ready to turn and run. I was, thankfully, a graceful runner on top of being marginally gymnastic. I looked up at it.
   I was staring right into a pair of beady, blood red eyes. The entire globe was red, no other color was present. I wondered only for a moment if it was blind because it had no pupil, but as it focused on me, I realized it was perfectly capable of seeing everything. I had only the rusty old knife with me, and I knew it would be almost completely useless against this... creature. It was easily over six feet tall, and had black hair covering its head in lank, shaggy tufts. Its flesh was flaking and falling off, similar to dandruff. You could smell the rank, rotting scent of flesh that was several years old and very much decayed. It had barely any skin on it’s rotting hands, more bone than anything. It grabbed for me, and I danced a step back. I saw red on it’s arms and legs, and wondered if it was bleeding, or if that was old as well. I slashed forward with my knife, hoping to distance myself a bit from this thing near me. It stuck in its chest, and I could actually see that it was wedged between it’s ribs. I fought back nausea, and then it hit me full in the chest with both bone hands. I felt something crack, and then heat pulsed through me and I fell down, everything fading into complete and utter darkness.

Alright, I know it was poorly written. I only had ten minutes to come up with all of this as it was, and I was in a rush to get out of school and away from all the horrible costumes for a while.

After school was out, I went and messed around on the internet for a while and talked to Laura and Logan and Dad and ate broccoli cheese soup, which is absolutely DELICIOUS just so you know. And then I went to work at 3. Yes, on Halloween, I know, I know. But they needed me, so I went to work. I ended up being put on counter, which was interesting in itself. We had a few fun middle-aged adults who dressed up and came in, as well as one older man who tried to make a joke about pepperoni pizzas and "young people's abbreviations on their little texter phone things". Quite entertaining, really. We had a lady come in who had ENORMOUS hair curlers in and was wearing an adorable purple polka-dot bathrobe over her pajamas. It was great.

Then this guy comes in, being all "funny" as he tried to be. He says "trick or treat, what do I get?" And me, being absolutely brilliant, I reply with "Free napkins!", slap some on the counter, and he took them and left, without buying anything. Maybe I'm mean, but I'm a poor minimum wage slave and that's all I could do.

After work I was able to go trick or treating with my two younger brothers and my mother and father, and I was lucky I decided to wear my Captain America shirt and therefore was given quite a bit of candy from adults who were laughing at me whilst handing out candy. There were a few people who thought it would be fun to act like they were just props, and then pop out from behind a tree and scare me, just while trick or treating. If that scared me, you can only imagine how going to the Haunting of Keystone went. Oh boy.

Alright, story behind this? I went to Fort Fear last year, and thought it was pretty good, not too scary, although that could have been just because I had my face buried in Madi's back the entire way through it. I am a pansy, I know. But I was scared, you can't blame me! Okay, if you want to, you can. Go for it. I'm used to it.

Anywho, it was a date (my treat) because I have this thing against people paying for me when we go out. It makes me feel guilty, and I don't like it. Logan, however, doesn't like NOT paying for people when he goes on dates with them, says it's a guy's job to treat the girl on the date. (You poop, I know you're reading this, so don't you dare gloat.) So I was brilliant and came up with an idea that I said would make me feel a little bit better about him paying for our dates, and that was me taking him on a date. So I did. I took us out to Haunting of Keystone, including me picking him up, driving him and I both up to Keystone, paying for us both to go through all three "attractions" and taking him back into town and dropping him off, including me walking him to the door. It was pretty cute, not gonna lie.

Haunting of Keystone. Easily one of the scariest things I have ever done in my life. Rollercoasters, Fort Fear, scary movies had nothing on this. It was horrible. There were three parts to it: The Mine, The Schoolhouse, and The Forest. Before we even walked through the door and signed up for it, though, I wanted to turn around and go home, because I heard chainsaws. I was terrified and we hadn't even started yet. So we get up there, sign up, wait for our turn, gibbeted with Sheridan, Bri, and some guy who's name I don't know who was with those two. Unfortunately, they weren't in our group. So they call group 20, and Logan and I go with our group into the pre-area for the Haunted Mine.

The Mine wasn't all that bad, considering. It was about as scary as Fort Fear was for me last year. We had to wear hard hats (I didn't really need mine, I was semi crouched into Logan with my head down because I was scared), and were given a single lantern for the group of us. There were about 6 of us, I think. Not once we got in there, that's for sure. We get walking down there, and the further we get into the mine, the smokier it got in there. Very minimal visibility, could not see, and there were people popping out from the sides of the mine shaft every so often. Not so bad, I had some warning and they were mostly on Logan's side. I'm surprised he still has fingers, I was gripping his so tightly I though mine were going to pop off, that's for sure. I had one hand in his, the other had a death grip on his sweater, and I was partially hiding behind him and off to the side a little. Eventually when we had made it to the back of the mine shaft, we were told by an incredibly creepy voice to turn around and go back out the way we came. As we were on our way back, one of the guys who had been on the side was on the ceiling, and reached down a hand, provoking a scream from me.

I've never screamed because of something scary before. Cried, yes. Whimpered, yes. Curled up in a fetal position and not moved, yes. But not screamed. So just imagine how scared I was. And we were only a third of the way through!

So we get back to the main area, hang up our hard hats, and are told to head on over to the Haunted Schoolhouse, which was across the road and up a hill. The rest of our group decided to ditch us to go do drugs at this point in time, so Logan and I ended up going by ourselves. Turns out that that was okay, seeing as we could only go in groups of two or three anyways. So we head into the schoolhouse area, and the lady who is getting everyone started and signed in slams the door behind us. Okay, I kind of knew that was going to happen, but I still jumped.

So we go into the first room of the Haunted Schoolhouse, and there is this creepy looking old witch ish lady sitting at a table in there, and she tells us, in a creepy and raspy voice, if we had "seen her children", to which I whimpered a bit, and Logan tells her "uh, no we haven't seen your children" to which she replies to him to "watch out for her children because they like to follow people around". Okay, that was creepy and slightly ominous. So we head into the next room, which is all gussied up as an actual school room. There was a motionless teacher and several fake "students" in desks, to which Logan remarks, "maybe this is what she means by her children". We walk past the "teacher" and she slams a yardstick against a desk, causing me to cringe a bit, and she tells us something that I can't seem to remember, and as we keep walking, she slams the yardstick again. I don't quite remember the order of the rooms next, but I shall assume it was the clown room.

I. Hate. Clowns. Those things are freaky scary. Seriously. So we go into this very dimly lit room with red tinted lights in it, and there are several tables with clowns sitting at them. Not the happy, round nosed, curled haired clowns, but the thin, oval shaped nosed lank yet curly-ish masked-faced clowns. So I gripped Logan's sweater even tighter in my hand, and we walked through it. By this time, Logan keeps looking behind us, because of what the lady said to us in the very first room, and eventually I peek behind us, which was a mistake, because there was a clown right behind us, very close behind us, holding a bloody knife. I whimpered and hid my face, and stopped looking. I was horribly scared. Absolutely terrified. And then a hand grazed my back, with what felt like rather bony fingers, and I started to repeatedly mumble into Logan's sleeve: "no no no no no no no (etc, you get the point)".

So he keeps on pulling me through the rooms, laughing occasionally at things, which made me feel like an idiot for being so terrified, of course. So we walk into a slightly smoky/foggy room, with desks and tables lined up on the walls, and we are walking past the desks, and something grabs my leg. I screamed a bit and might've run into Logan a bit. He asked me what happened, and when I told him something grabbed my leg, he said, "really?" and then dropped the subject when I nodded my head very vehemently. So we come upon a really really REALLY narrow staircase, and head downstairs. Being the comforting person he is, Logan tells me that "in horror movies, nothing bad ever happens in the basement", to which I might've scoffed inside my head. And potentially out loud.

So we go downstairs, and are walking through a narrow walkway with black hanging "walls" which were really what looked like black plastic sheets used as partitions. People kept on hitting the walls from the other side, causing me to jump and flinch repeatedly. And then we come across what looked like a mock chain link fence that was actually made up to be "electric" fencing, with a person behind it dressed in all black except for a while ghoul face. I can only assume he kept purposely brushing up against the fence next to Logan and I, making the electric sounding noise go off, and scaring the poop out of me. So we get out of there, and come across more black tarp things, and then another staircase.

As we are going up said staircase, which were made out of wood, there was a white plastic table on its side near the top, and something banged against it a couple times, causing me to squeal a bit like a dying dog or something. Like a squeal/whimper combination. And we both look down to the end of the staircase where we had just come, and there was somebody down there behind us, which scared me, and I started up my mantra of "no no no" again into Logan's sleeve. Then we come upon the last room.

In the last room, there were two people from what I can remember (which may not be as much as I had hoped, in all reality). There was a man and a woman. The woman spoke first, saying things like "oooh look at the pretty girl" (Logan goes, "look, she called you pretty!") and then she says "I love your pretty face.. I'm going to RIP it off and keep it for myself!" To which I panicked and started a slightly quicker attempt at walking towards the exit. The man then says he is going to eat Logan, so Logan says "see, he'll eat me first, feel better?" to which the creepy bloody faced man says "nope, girl first". I try to get out the door, but the creepy chick is playing with and pulling my hair and clothes trying to get me to go back to her. I bolted it. We left the creepy schoolhouse and I almost ran out the door, I swear.

We go outside and head down to the area where the Haunted Forest part was going on. On our walk back down the hill and across the road again, I had to stop a couple times and try to calm down my pulse and my breathing. I swear I have never been so terrified in all my life. Alright so we get down to the base of the hill where Marilyn Oaks is leaning against her car. She was the one who was sending off the groups up the hill. So we stand there and are talking to her, and the whole time, I am just thinking she doesn't recognize me or something, to which I later found out that she did, she just wasn't going to "embarrass me in front of my friends", which is funny, because I was talking to them about how I knew her. So that was funny to find out the next day. Heehee. She gives us the warning to stay away from artificial light because we need our night vision, and then sends us off.

We start heading up the hill, and me, being brilliant, said I didn't want to go last, so Logan and I ended up at the front of the group (by this time, Sheridan, Bri, and that other guy who's name I still don't know or remember had caught up with us, so we were a group of 5). I know, I'm so smart. I'm glad we went first though, I really am. So we are walking up a hill that had logs and piles of sticks off to the side of the path so that we would know we were on the path, and someone sits up off of the ground, and I screamed a bit. Scared me, obviously. So we keep going (I think I say "so" enough, yeesh) and come across a turn in the path that had a four wheeler up a little ways from it, off the path. Logan says "nice four wheeler" and I say, pessimistically, "yeah, real nice, it's probably going to run us over or something". So we walk past it, the lights flick on and an airhorn goes (nice one, Gideon). I jumped.

We keep going up the hill, and it isn't so bad so far. Everything that is happening is on Logan's side instead of mine for a change, so that was alright. We are reaching the top of the hill and off to the side, peeking out over the edge of the hill at us, is this creepy masked thing or whatever, and Logan goes "that's not real, that's just a decoy" to which Mr. Creepy-Chainsaw-Holding Guy comes out from Logan's side of the path but comes towards me, revving the chainsaw right next to me. I think I might have peed a little bit. So we get past that little bit of fun (ehoufhahouefh..) and as we finish cresting the hill/path thing, there is a really bright light shining up at us from the path down the hill. So we head towards it (classic horror movie, go straight towards something you know is gonna happen, that's real cool). There was a guy decked out in army camo and laying on his stomach with a gas mask on.

As we approached him, he lifted his head, and reached his arms towards us, one hand curled and clawing into the dirt there, and another army camo guy comes out of nowhere and shoots him in the back. He points down the path more and tells us to get in the truck. There was a pickup there, with the tailgate down so we could hop in. I look back towards the army guys, and four more came at us. I panicked, ran, and literally dove into the bed of the truck. Just ask Sheridan and Logan, I really did dive into the back of the truck. Once there, I put my back to the side of the hill/the edge of the truck, had my left side up against the window, was sitting on my butt, pulled my knees up, put my arms around my knees, and my face against my knees. I hyperventilated a bit, I'm sure. They keep telling me that it's over, that it's fine, and I can look, so I look up and over the edge of the truck just as a guy pops up and yells. I screamed and slammed my face back against my knees, yelling at Logan that I was never going to listen to him ever again.

Then we left, for it was over, and drove back into town where I dropped him off and headed home myself. By the end of all three of the sections of the Haunting of Keystone, I managed to jam several knuckles on my pointer and middle fingers on my right hand, and my middle and ring finger of my left hand, from gripping Logan's fingers so tightly within mine. Somehow his hands managed to escape all the pain. Lucky duck. It was a great, haunting, terrifying experience, so kudos to all the people who put all their time and effort into doing this for us.


Alright. It is actually the Friday after Halloween now... I know it's way after the fact, but let's face it, this is a really long post. It took a while to type it all, and I have very minimum time on my hands. I'm actually currently in ICT1 right now. My teacher got too scared by my last journal, and so has strayed away from writing prompts and has gone back to asking us questions about our lives and personalities. Which is so very very dull. Yawn. I aced another test today in Government, as well as the test I took yesterday in History. So I am very proud of myself.

That is really all I have for now.. If you have questions, or comments, I will gladly reply to them if you ask me to. Thanks for putting up with all my nonsense.

Loves! xo-Caite

School, Giant Pancakes, and Rants

  Well this has been an interesting few weeks, if I do say so myself. Hectic weeks, good weeks, I have no idea weeks....
    That's how it goes.

Just kidding. I am feeling very very lazy right now, and I do not know how I am supposed to even write anything right now. I keep missing the keys I want to push and nothing is going the way I want it to.

I am going to do a happy dance. You all know how I have been really stressing out about my Government class, and complaining quite frequently about how I fail at Government and how it is too hard and how I can't do it because I'm too stupid.... Well TAKE THAT, Government class! I have a B in your class and I not only aced the last test, but the two assignments before then, too! Yeah! Woo! Other than that, school is going pretty great. I did, however, get in trouble in ICT1, for being too "graphic and gruesome" with my journals right when I get to class. Let me explain.

Not all of the journals she complained about were graphic or gruesome, just weird. Still. What a whiner. Just because I am one of the few people in your class who can actually write with no problem about absolutely ANY journal prompt you give me.... Nope. Just kidding, go right ahead and complain after you tell us that creativity is what you're looking for. Apparently she is scared to look at my journals now, which means that i could always just get an automatic 100% on her journals. Win!

I am planning on giving you guys the last few journals that I did, so that you can read them. So here they are:

October 4, 2012
My dog jumped up and started barking, then...
I turned around quickly, trying to find the source of the barking. There was a horrible tap against the door. It happened repeatedly, becoming slowly louder and stronger. There was someone, or something out there. I walked slowly towards the door, and the big windows beside it. Heavily curtained, I couldn’t make out any shapes behind it. The tapping became hitting, this quick, frantic noise. Shapes began to move outside the window. I peeked through the curtains; panic rose in me as I saw many deformed shapes in the street outside. They moved at a quick, horrific pace. Their bodies were obviously human at some point in time, but now only barely resembled the human form. Flesh was stripped from bone, but they didn’t bleed. They just kept going, partially running, partially walking around. I looked towards the door.

One of my friends was pressed up against my locked door, beating against it, looking in panic towards the street. Finally, one of the... shapes or whatever they actually were looked towards my house. Upon seeing my friend, it started to lope towards her. She saw it, beat against the door a few more times, turned, screamed at the top of her lungs. It was a terrible, high pitched, blood curdling, goosebump giving scream. She took off, which was the obvious mistake. The shape ran after her, and caught her arm, pulling her down to the ground. It sat on her stomach as she kicked her legs and flung her arms about frantically, trying to get rid of it. It swatted at her hands a few times, and as I watched through the window, it hit her, fingers pointed, right at her chest. It’s hand sunk right through her as though she was made of jello. She became still, blood pouring from her chest. Her legs twitched once. The shape leaned towards the trail of blood, and slowly started to suck it up into itself. Once it had dried her up, it stood up and took her by the arm, bringing her up with it. Both of them standing now, she turned her head back and forth, moving her arms and legs slowly. Then, they both looked towards where I was standing, horrified, in front of the window, the curtains thrown aside.

October 9, 2012
It was quiet, too quiet. That could only mean that...
     Something was completely and utterly wrong. Or right, whichever. It honestly depended on how you wanted to see it. If it is completely silent, it could mean that something bad could be close to happening, or it could also mean that something utterly horrible was about to happen. Either way, something was or wasn’t going to happen. But at the same time, what does that mean? What if the complete silence was something good, but was horrible to someone who is so used to noise? Would that make sense at all?
      Or was it so far beyond sense that making sense didn’t make sense? Maybe making sense wasn’t sensible, but was far beyond that? What if making sense was the one thing that didn’t make sense? Then, in that case, would making sense not making sense make sense? Or would that simply be a problem that nobody could resolve? I guess my question is, is there any sense to making sense in the case of making sense? Because if we all try to make sense of everything, I do believe that there would be chaos everywhere.



October 11, 2012
He was afraid, but he called upon all his courage as...
He aimed, focusing his every thought upon the arrow he had strung on the bow in his hands. He was determined to make the shot, to take down his one last remaining enemy in this woodland. His enemy was standing down at the base of a tree, poised and ready to move. His enemy had dark brown, shaggy hair. As his enemy looked around, he saw the glint of the dim light reflecting off of the deep sunken black eyes. 
        He tensed up and watched as his enemy stretched itself upright, showing the shadow of the man it used to be. Now a horrible looking and acting beast, it had hair all over it’s head, down it’s neck, chest, and arms, and it’s feet were hairy too. It snorted and shook it’s head before holding still, throwing it’s head back and letting out a high pitched whine, before holding still again and listening. He didn’t dare move. Finally, he caught the eyes of the creature, and upon seeing the pain in it’s eyes, he loosed the arrow.

October 15, 2012
I was counting my candy when...
        I decided to eat a piece. It was just a small bit of chocolate. I ate the one, then moved on to another. I ate and ate, piece after piece, chocolate after chocolate. I couldn’t stop myself, I just kept on eating. I loved the taste of the decadent, creamy, smooth and rich flavors of the different kinds of chocolate. Smooth caramel melted on my tongue, rich peanut butter mixed with bitterly sweet dark chocolate. I could not stop.
        And as I ate, I grew. My stomach expanded, my legs became thick. I grew bigger and bigger, taller, wider, longer. I burst out of my clothes, continuing to expand until I was as big as the house. Then I became buoyant, floating a bit off the ground, which seemed impossible due to my enormous size. I floated, out the wall of the house, and up into the air. I felt my face become hot, and I felt hollow inside. My knees came up to my chest, me unwilling them to. They stuck together, and I felt a sticky substance gluing my legs together and to my chest. I became lighter, less dense, but a rock was in my stomach. I had become a hot air balloon.


October 17, 2012
They claimed the house was haunted, but it looked okay to me, so....
        I walked right inside, unhindered by my friends who were previously outside with me. Not a single one wanted to go inside. They were easily frightened, which made no sense. I knew the rumors, I knew the stories. I didn’t believe any of them fully, but I did believe them partially. I guess I just didn’t know what to believe properly. As I was inside, I noticed a staircase. I walked towards it, intending on going up the stairs. I took a step. It was silent, but as I slowly started to make my way up the stairs, they began to groan with my every step. I was a light, small person, but the stairs were old.
      Suddenly, a creak came from behind me on the stairs. I turned slowly, keeping my head down, not wanting to look. There was nothing behind me, save for a trail of graying flesh and what looked like a mixture of mucus and blood. I followed it, to where it led back up the stairs. I saw a foot, a gruesome, horrid foot. I could see the bone through the ghastly gray skin, and it was coated in the same mucus-and-blood mixture I had seen on the staircase. I looked up, only to see a face that looked as terrible as the foot had, staring me right in my eyes, unblinking with it’s one good eye. A blood-curdling shriek erupted into the air, and I realized that it was me who had produced the sound.    

    The front door at the base of the staircase burst open, and one of my friends ran into the house, and with a yell, I knew it was my best guy friend named Samson. He charged up the staircase, the stairs groaning in protest, and the next thing I knew, the zombie-like thing in front of me was in pieces.
It was then that I was puzzled. Samson hadn’t been with my other friends outside of the house.           Where had he come from, and what was he doing here? When I asked him, he just gave me a look that clearly said he was a bit mad at me for being here. But he did explain that he knew about the zombie-like creatures. He had seen me from down the street, walk into this haunted place, that wasn’t really haunted at all because there were no ghosts here, just the zombie-things. He had heard my scream, and had come running. As I looked at him now, I realized that he held a set of machetes, one in each hand. When he saw me looking at them, he slid them into a strap on his back. He looked at me, with a relieved look on his face, and then spoke again.
     “When I heard you yell, I thought something horrible had already happened to you. I’m really glad that...” That is when I screamed again. The stair broke underneath me, and one of my legs was now stuck between the slats in the staircase. I felt a cold, clammy, bonelike hand grab my leg, and sharp pain ran through it in small areas, repeatedly. It was then that I realized that I was being bitten. I yelled again, panicked now because of the stories that we didn’t know were true or not, of being turned into one of these gruesome beings by being bitten. Samson looked at me in horror, and then jumped past me and down the stairs, crashing into something at the bottom. He yelled like a madman, and I heard splatters everywhere, something wet and sticky hit my lower leg where it was stuck. Finally it went quiet, for only a moment. I saw Samson again, in front of me. He put his arms underneath mine, and helped me out of the stair.

October 19, 2012
It was so windy. It...
        Blew the sticks and small rocks from the kicked up gravel right back into my face. My face was freezing; it felt stiff when I moved it. I did not have so much time left to stay outside. I could see the impending storm, could hear the wind slowly picking up, even harder than it already was blowing. A huge gust blew through the small valley. And as I felt the cold air hit my whole body, I felt tiny delicately frozen snowflakes hit my skin where it showed through on my neck, face, and hands. Something hit my face with a sharp smack. I put one hand up to my cheek, to cover the mark, and looked down. There was a decently medium sized rock on the ground by my foot. I had to get inside. 
        I turned, pulling my hand from my face, and only seeing a faint tint of crimson on my pale skin before I ran towards the house from whence I came. I dashed towards the house, disregarding the path that was a ways to my left. I jumped over the small, natural obstacles in my way, leaping agiley over the small boulders and the browned and fallen trees. I could feel the storm at my back as I reached the front door. I wrenched on the handle, throwing myself inside the dark interior of the front room. The wind blew through the door, bringing a growing mass of snowflakes with it. I stood upright from my crouched position on the floor from where I landed after jumping inside, and shoved the door with my whole weight, forcing it to shut despite the wind. I locked it swiftly, and then ran to all the other doors and windows, making sure they were all locked as well.
         I could see the snow piling up outside the windows and doors, a full out blizzard taking place outside. I sunk into a couch near the window, and sitting back, I looked around at my solitary abode. It was then that I noticed the red spots scattered on the carpet. Feeling something warm and sticky on my neck and arm. Holding my arm up, I realized that my face must have finally thawed enough for the blood from the cut to flow freely. I ambled my way up the stairs, and walking into the bathroom, I turned on the water, letting the warmth rinse the blood from my skin. The door shifted, ever so slightly, and I looked up, into the mirror. I first saw the flash of red from my face, and then the eyes. The black and white, horrific eyes of the one thing I feared the most, standing directly behind me from behind the door.

 

And the most recent one that got me a weird look from her... (I don't have problems, I swear it)

  

October 23, 2012
The mysterious object started floating in the air and...
I flicked the lights on so that I could see what was there. A scream choked itself in my throat. There was a knife with nothing holding it, floating in the air. A long, thin, crude, bloody knife. It floated there, rotating so I could see every macabre angle of the weapon. I made no noise, holding my breath so I wouldn’t be tempted to scream. I looked around, trying to find a source, almost hoping to see someone else in the room, controlling the knife. There was nobody else there. It was just me, the seemingly possessed knife, and the pool of blood that was slowly forming underneath its floating rotations.
Suddenly it stopped rotating. I flicked my eyes up to focus on it solely, still holding my breath, but breathing out ever so slowly through my nose as to not make any noise. I was not quite sure why I needed to keep quiet, only that I knew it was a good idea. Suddenly my cat came through the door behind me, coming full speed into the room. It ran right to the puddle of blood on the floor, laid down in it, and became utterly still. I watched as her breathing stopped entirely, and it was then that I realized she was dead. I heard fingernails against the wall by my side, and I turned, to see another puddle of blood on the ground, with my youngest sibling, my little sister scratching her way across the wall to it. With one hand still on the wall, she slid down it into the puddle on the floor, and also became still. Slowly the rest of my family and friends appeared in the room, each one having their own horrible deep crimson colored puddle on the ground or furniture that they would sink into.
I was left alone, just me and the knife. Suddenly it was in my hand, and I felt pure hatred pouring out from me. I screamed.

 

 

 

 

Alright, I admit it, they are pretty messed up sometimes. I just.. get bored. Her class is really really easy for me to do. Lame sauce. But yes, that is how school goes for me nowadays.

 

Work. I suppose you noticed that part of the title of this post is "giant pancakes", which, in all reality, was a very humorous story for me. I was closing last week with Lesley, and if the dough gets really room temperaturey and doughey and stickey and bad grammarey, we put it through the oven, no toppings, just dough, and throw it out (after closing). Well, I made a comment about how it looks like a giant pancake in the pan once it goes through the oven, and long story really condensed and short, I believe that we agreed that it would be fun to make enormous pancakes in the oven at work, using the pizza pans. HILARIOUS, I think. 

 

With the rest of work, I'm really mad at the two newest girls that Lesley decided to hire. Again, long story short...

 

WHY WOULD YOU TAKE THE JOB OFFER IF YOU ARE NOT WILLING TO DO ANYTHING TO WORK OR LISTEN TO PEOPLE WHEN THEY ASK YOU TO HELP OR DO THINGS?!?!?!??!

 

Makes me mad. Love you guys! -Caitehttp://www.facebook.com/

    So I can understand that I've been neglecting posting something lately. I just want to say that I am sorry, and that it is not because nothing has been going on, but that I have just either been too busy or forgetful.
    But first of all, school. This is actually becoming more and more difficult, the more time goes by. I know it's only the beginning of the fourth week of school and all, but I mean... There is just so much actually stressing me out at this point in time. It's ridiculous. So far, all of my classes are going pretty decent. EXCEPT for U.S. Government. Let's just say that Mr. Templeton is my new least-favorite teacher EVER. Urghlblurhgl. I didn't do too hot on his first test that he gave us. Missed 16 points out of 66, which gave me a "D" on the test. It would help me a lot if he would actually teach the class instead of just giving us page after page of notes and making us read out of the book. I don't learn anything that way, that's for sure. And who on earth gives a test based on the upcoming election? We have no idea what's going to happen in this election, give us a break!
    Now, the rest of school is going alright. Weights is killing me, personally. Pushing myself to lift and move weights that often times weigh more than I do, myself, is really difficult sometimes. And as a result of being stubborn and determined, I often put more weights on than I know I can handle, and suffer for it greatly afterwards. Honestly, I didn't know my pectoral muscles could actually hurt this bad. It's ridiculous! All the muscles that you didn't know could hurt so bad, do. And even then, your teacher isn't satisfied with you. It gets to be pretty... well... aggravating. I'm pretty sure I'm donig my best, so if you aren't satisfied, back off. Holy cow.
    And then there is Myth and Symbol. Oh boy. Mr. Gibson is my favorite person ever. Except not really. He didn't even teach J-Writ last year, so I was, and still am, rather reluctant to be taking him this year, because I feel like I am not going to be learning anything in his class. Anyways, in Myth and Symbol we are watching The Matix, and I keep giggling all the way though it because I still find it so cheesy and hilarious. It's pretty bad.
    And band, on the other hand... well let's just say that I need to learn how to keep my mouth shut sometimes. Everytime Jordan (our drum major) goes "one, two, three, four!" to start the song, my brain always responds with "Woohoo", just like the song Black Horse and the Cherry Tree (or whatever it's called, you know what I'm talking about). And we constantly have to stand up or sit down during class, just trying to see who actually knows the music. One of my fellow band members did not like standing up, (she sits right next to me, by the way), and therefore said "I am not a sheep!" in referring to the fact that she doesn't like being a follower. We then proceeded to argue about whether or not it would be appropriate to yell "I am not a sheep!" "Let my people go!" in the middle of class. We came to the conclusion, eventually, that it would not be appropriate, but instead be mildly blasphemous to the church and religion. So we refrained there.
    Work on the other hand... not going to lie to you, Angie terrifies me. If you worked with her, you would be able to understand, hopefully. She's just this tiny, angry, hormone packed person. She gets mad at everything and anything. And she likes to yell and get mad at you for no reason whatsoever, and it scares me! She's what, five feet... maybe 3 inches tall? And she scares me. I do find it kind of funny as to how someone as small as her scares me, when I work with all these guys who are over six feet tall. But they're my friends, so no fright there. Ha.
    Other than Angie, work is going wonderfully. Lesley cut down my hours to just a few a week now, because she thought it would be best to reduce my hours and let me relax a bit instead of being so stressed out and overrun due to the fact that I have seminary, school, and work, as well as homework and chores to do. How thoughtful of her. Work is so much fun though! We get everything done (okay, most of the time with a lot of complaints), and make challenges out of the smallest things, like sheetouts or boxes or landing. It's great. I really do enjoy doing landing and counter, though. They're my two favorite jobs.
    The one thing that confuses me like none other about my life right now is my friends. I do not understand why someone, who means so much to you, and who was pretty much your first real friend, would just up and start ignoring you and ditching you for other people. I mean, I know that people move on, but a little more warning would have been wonderful, instead of just quitting the friendship cold turkey. But I do, fortunately, have several other marvelous people in my life, who are willing to stay my friend. Admittedly, all but three of them are male. What can I say? Men are so much easier to get along with then women. Women are silly, stupid people and I cannot stand to be around them for very long. Don't get me wrong, I do have a lot of fun with my female friends, but the philosophy on fighting is all wrong. When guys get mad at each other, they beat each other up and are friends again. When girls get mad at each other, they fight about it, ignore each other for two months, pretend they're friends again, but then hold a grudge for two, three, four years. I think that that is really ridiculously stupid.
    Working on the Neon with Dad on Saturday was really fun, and it reminded me as to why I really wanted to go to WDT in the first place. I really enjoy working on cars, and I think it would be a good idea for me to pursue that. I had wanted to go down to USU, but then I realized that if I stay here, I have a solid plan, and could easily get a job, I think. But if I go down to USU or anyplace else, I have no idea what I would do when I get there! I'd just be lazing around, doing nothing because I have no better purpose in my life! I have no clue what is in it for me if I do go down there. No clue at all.
    I think that we all should just take a step back and take a look at our lives. I know I need to do that. But I'm just saying that if we actually look at what is going on in our lives and what is happening constantly for all of us, we would be able to find all the problems that we need to change. I know that it is certainly helping me. I have had a lot of eye openers lately, and I realize that I need to change my attitude and my actions towards a lot of people and things, including myself. I just need to figure out a solid plan for fixing everything that is going on in my life, and I believe that after that happens, that I will be able to destress and relax a little more, simply because I am more at peace with myself. Yes, I sound like a hippie, but maybe they've got something right. Haha.
     In all reality, I really enjoy being around people. Like... a lot. I feel happy and overjoyed when I can make someone else's day just by being around and happy and smiling all the time. However, on days like this, when you have no idea why everything seems to be dumping on you all at once, and you are really tired despite getting a full night's sleep, you begin to question "why". In my defence, I have no clue why, I was just stating a fact.
    I do miss my wonderful seesters, who live so very, very far away from me. It is really quite sad sometimes, how I cannot just turn to them, or make cookies with them, or things like that. I know I complain all the time about women, but you just can't do things like shopping or baking with a house full of boys. They're more intent on eating the food rather than helping you make it. Don't look at me, I usually have an appetite to compete with an elephant, so I'm really not any better than they are.
    It is starting to get colder out. I am sitting in my classes, wearing a hoodie (it's actually the Winnie-The-Pooh hoodie that Emily gave me), and I am still freezing. Yeesh. I feel like it may actually be a cold winter this year, which I am perfectly okay with because I really love my sweaters and fuzzy blankets. Slippers all the way!
    This is it for now... Sorry for taking up so much of your time with my ramblings... Wait.. Nope. I'm not sorry, because you could have stopped reading at any time. Haha! I love you all, and can't wait to talk to you. Smile, it's good for you. Love, Me.

Some People...

     May I just say, that some people make me want to repeatedly bash my head into a wall. Namely the sophomores in my World History class. Let me explain. I am the only senior in a class full of sophomores. That would be because it is a sophomore social studies class. I didn't fail it the first time, I just never took it the first time. But that is irrelevant. However, these sophomores, who should really be more intelligent than they are, are unfortunately, not. Today one of the students raised her hand, and when Mr.Noyes called on her, she asked if Nevada was a state. I think I died a little, and lost over half of my braincells, that I later collected from off of the floor. How do you NOT know that Nevada is a state???? That is just utterly ridiculous! I wanted to cry, I really did. If you do not know all 50 of the states, go back to elementary school, and relearn the states song. Go. Leave. You are hereby banished from high school until you become knowledgeable in the things you should have learned back in elementary and middle school. Bye now!
      Alright so that's that. As for my other classes so far in this school year... I don't know. Digital Video, I have decided, is my absolute least favorite class. Sorry, Mr.Blomme, but I don't think there should be a whole semester learning about something that no-one is going to follow anyways. What ever happened to just taking the video and hoping it turned out alright? But nooooooo, there are 23 different types of shots you have to do before you can even do anything. It really sucks, not going to lie. And it is during second block. I always feel like sleeping during that class, because it is so boring, not because I am tired. Red days definitely aren't my favorite. I love band, and my open mini afterwards, but I have no-one to talk to during Digital Video, and no-one to talk to during World History. That is two classes right in a row. And then I have lunch with Aileen, so that's definitely good! We laugh, talk, and gossip about EVERYONE, so watch out! Don't do anything you don't want us talking about! Okay, I'm just kidding.... Maybe... And then there is fourth block, which is weights. Weights isn't a bad class... I just really dislike being in a group full of jock showoffs who think they're really cool when they aren't. Plus they pass gas, pretty much ALL THE TIME. The weight room isn't that big... The smell spreads really fast, and it fills the whole room, and makes everyone die. It is really, really gross.
       As for work... I still love my job! It can get pretty boring during the school year, because people actually have better things to do than eat pizza all the time. So there is a lot of standing around and goofing off, and fighting over who gets to do what, just for something to do. Either way, everything still gets done on time, and everything goes alright. Plus, it's really funny when you and half of your coworkers are really ticklish, because it gets to be pretty loud in there, which is ideal for sneaking up on and then tickling people. Quite funny, really. Especially when they're doing something that can be pretty messy. Like saucing pizzas on makeline, or cutting pizzas on landing. It is really fun.
       And as for Ashley's question as to what I am doing, college wise, my answer is... Good question. Next!

*starts singing*

   ...To catch them is my real test, to train them is my cauuuuuuse, POKEMON! Gotta catch 'em all!


...And so begins a new school year, and a new attempt at blogging. (Yes, I started a new blog. Get over it.) This is the second day of the school year, and this year is my very last year at Central High School. Senior year. The big whoodly-whompus. The last time I will ever be subjected to Norma's rath. Seriously. Yesterday was the first day of the school year, and she was already acting like someone peed in her Cheerios that morning. If you really hate kids that much, why on earth do you work in a high school? Bleecch. At least it's the last year... or rather... semester of me pretending to be nice to her. I mean, sure, I could actually be nice to her, but it's really hard to be nice to someone who is crabbing all up in your face.

Let me back up here for a minute. This summer was kind of eventful. Except not really. I worked at Roy's for a while, helping the guys there fix up and clean the cars, and, admittedly, refilling the front bathroom's soap dispenser because Roy didn't want to walk back to the bathroom at the back of the shop to refill it himself. I'm just kidding, Roy, if you ever see this. After being there for a month, month and a half or so, (in all reality I have no idea as to how long I was there), I called in on a Thursday morning and said I wouldn't be back in until Monday, I was told that was fine, blah de dah, and I wrecked the Yukon that afternoon. Yay, right? Right. Just kidding, yet again. See, what happened was I was driving the Yukon down Highway 36, on my way into town, and I turned a corner and saw a truck there. Then I have no idea what happened. I guess it didn't register that it was there, or who knows what. Plus, who just stops their truck in the middle of the road, with no brake lights, turn signal, or flashers? Come on. Anywho, I hit the truck, my airbag went off, and both my little brothers were sitting in the backseat, so they were okay. The hood crumpled up into the windshield, I got a nice shower of glass that I had to pull out of my hair and out of my bag and clothes. We all were wearing our seatbelts, relax a little. Right after it happened, though, Wesley and Eddie were panicking, so I told them to get out, and they got out and were halfway down the road by the time I got out. My door was jammed almost completely shut, and it's a good thing I'm skinny. Everyone was okay, la-de-da and all that. My left arm hurt wayyy too bad to be ignoring, so Mom drove me in to the hospital later that night. The only thing we managed to get there, were flat butts from sitting in the hard plastic chairs while we waited for a doctor, and the knowledge that my left arm was NOT broken, but had a severe contusion, a jammed shoulder, elbow, and wrist, and that I would hurt for a while. It took them well over a couple hours just to tell me that. I swear they want me to break their arms, making me wait that long. Good thing I have a high pain tolerance. Then I went job hunting. And I found a job, actually. At the Little Caesar's on West Main by Baken Park. There's a fun story to tell.

Little Caesar's on West Main. First of all, I never thought I would EVER work in a fast food place. I told myself I'd rather work retail until my toes fell off and my eyes bled purple, but I ended up at Little Caesar's anyways. At first I was really quiet and kind of timid and shy around the people. You can't blame me for that one. I was one of three females at the time, and there were six males, four of which were at least half a foot taller than me or more, the other two around my height. It can be a liiittle intimidating when you first work with a group of people who are all bigger than you. But after the first day and a half or so, I bet they all wish I was still shy and quiet, because now I hardly ever shut up. It really is a great job, though. We all have fun, we all goof around, but we can all be serious too. (Well, somewhat serious...) We do dumb little things like throw a piece or two of sausage at each other, or dough shavings, or pinches of cheese or pepperoni. Or, if you're Chance, you throw whole sheetouts at unsuspecting me, because you're mean. I mean.... great... er.... person! In case you didn't know, a sheetout is the flattened, somewhat circular piece of dough that we put in a pan and put sauce and cheese and toppings on. It's basically the pizza. Admittedly, I did move the pan closer to me because I hadn't anticipated him throwing the pizza dough, so it was partially my fault. If there is one thing I am learning, it is that I can be and sometimes will be the instigator. Well... more than sometimes, sometimes. We do have a lot of fun there, though. I'm so glad I got the job. It's working well for me. I'll most likely tell a whole bunch of stories about work on here sometimes, but not right now. Sorry. I'm here to talk about school. Well, complain actually.

And complain I shall! For all of you unfortunate blogger followers out there who decide to read this. Okay, okay. Admittedly it's not as bad as it could be... yet. It's only the second day of school though. Yech. It's going to be a long semester. Just to give you a quick rundown, I am an idiot, who thought I was pretty smart. Let me explain: I saved all my slacker classes for senior year so I could work after school without a problem. The problem with that? I. Am. So. Bored. And I have multiple classes that are similar AND dull. What a great combination. On red days, I am unfortunate enough to, after band, go to one of my computer classes. The one on red days, second block, is Digital Video, with a seemingly nice teacher named Mr. Blomme, who's last name you actually pronounce as "bloom". The very first day of school, and the darned administration messed up my school login name and password, when I have two computer classes, so I cannot currently log onto the school computers. Fantastic, right? So I have homework now, because of it. Blech. Anywho, after Digital Video, I have World History. World History is, admittedly, a sophomore social studies class. No, I did not fail it the first time, I just neglected to take it the first time. I'm not a huge fan of social studies, see. My teacher for that class is Mr. Noyes, though. He seems like a happy, helpful person. I think his class will go well. Fourth block is then Weights, and my teacher is this really scary looking, incredibly buff lady named Mrs. Larson. That's a run down of red days. White days, after band, which is again, first block, I have Myth and Symbol second block, with my absolute least favorite teacher EVER, named Mr. Gibson, who's JWrit class is the only class in recorded Caitlyn History that I have ever failed, ever. It made me so mad. After Myth, I have my other social studies class, which is U.S. Goverment with Mr. Templeton, who I was told by a fellow classmate, and a student who has been in his classes before, that he does not like to give out homework, and that his class is fairly easy. I guess we'll see. And fourth block, the last block of the day, on white days, I have my other incredibly boring computer class, which is Information and Communication Technology 1 (ICT1), with a teacher that talks in a tone of voice that is about as exciting as class actually is. Which, if you couldn't tell, really not exciting at all. I may or may not have dozed off a bit at the beginning of her class. Whoops! I didn't get in trouble though, which is more than I can say for the beginning of band class yesterday, which was the first day of school. Yes, I got in trouble. During the first 15 minutes of class. Wow, am I good. Evidently, saying you know someone because they're Mormon is a good way to distract the teacher, who then loses his train of thought and therefore gets mad at you. Whoopsies. But that's all the fun I have for now, about school.

Man, I miss Michaela. Life sucks without her in half of your high school classes, goofing around with you. She's with the RM's now, bless her. Heehee.

Well, I'm out. This nerdy Pokemon freak is goooone for the night. Yes, Pokemon. I love Pokemon. No judging, you judgers! D:

Nighty-night and toodly-oo!