Donna Kent, the careing mother.
Richard French, the audulterous father.
Joshua Kent, the oldest child.
Christopher Kent, yours truely.
Tristan Kent, the youngest son; he will be consumed soon.
       In recent sleepless nights (I get bad insomnia), I've had time to reflect on the history of this gate to hell.    The most evil seems to come from the house next door.   Now things seem calm, but it's normaly the quiet before the storm.
       At this time a very quiet family lives next door, but before them there were some college students who always heard strange sounds, typing on their computer and kids laughing.
       Before the college students, was a good family, untill the mother and daughter came home to find the husband/father had a massive heart attack and died.
       The first family I can remember was a strange group;   The parents had decided to get married on All Hollow's Eve, and both their daughters had been blind in the right eyes.
       So far the only thing I've seen that these families had in common is that they didn't stay long.
       Sometimes I think and sometimes the thinking becomes too much to handle.    When that happens I write.    I'm not a good writer, never was, but I do it a lot.    Most of what I write is the same useless crap that no one would ever read, the rest of it is always the same story started in different ways, always getting to a point (not even enough to name more than a few characters) and then stopping.
       The stories all begin with a man walking into a bar.    I always liked westerns and I love the acult, so my stories deal with both.
       I stopped writing for awhile; I had nothing to write about, and the things I did write I wrote online.        http://www.livejournal.com/users/b4tteryac1d/

- Chris Kent