The YWC Library

Drunken boy

James stumbled out of the pub grinning stupidly, he skipped along the pathway heading for home,
the moon had flown into the sky and lit the streets brightly, he twirled and pirouetted, laughing and
giggling down the streets. He fell over his feet, he swayed trying to regain balance, he tumbled into a
large young man.
�What�d ye, think yer doin�?� The large man said turning to face James.
The drunken seventeen-year-old looked blankly at him, �Err�� He held his gut and bit his bottom lip,
�I�m gonna puke!� He said, first he belched then vomited on the ground. He wiped his mouth and grinned
dumbly at the large man.The man ushered one of his friends to assist him, he looked down at the young lad
coated in vomit. �Teach dis boy a lesson.� The large man said bluntly. His friend raised a hand, he
punched James in the jaw, James stumbled backwards and fell to the ground. He coughed up blood, the
friend kicked across his temple, his heel dug into James�s eye, he cried out in pain. He spread out his hand
and felt around on the ground, he found something, a bottle. It felt full of drink, but it would do.
He weakly pulled himself off the ground holding the bottle above his head, yelling at the top of his voice
. He launched the bottle at the friend of the large man and he tumbled to the ground. James gasped and ran for
home. He could hear the others yelling insults at him and telling him it wasn�t over.Now James could only hear his
feet trailing along the pavement, he leaned against a brick wall and felt the places were he was punched, kicked
and hit. He could taste blood and he smelt vomit, he looked at his clothes and let out a moan. He was covered in it!
He realised that he could have been badly hurt, even killed! He now knew how hard it is to escape death.

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Based on a true story!
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The Strange One�

Standing on the wet grass in bare feet, vomit and blood greeted and mingled with each other as she swayed, her
eyelids were getting heavy. The sun began to rise, slowly beams of light crept through the darkness. Her body was covered
in a cold sweat, she felt clammy and
sick. There was a putrid smell of urine it moistened the air.
One pale hand reached inside her pocket and fumbled around inside, her hand emerged from her pocket holding a small,
slender knife. It smiled at her and she smiled back. The blade wanted to be stroked; she ran the tips of her fingers
along the blade.
She looked at her fingers, glittering red liquid slowly crawled out of the wound, she liked the red water. She
looked at her clothes; they smelled and were stained terribly. The sun was sauntering into the sky now, occasi-
onally peeping through the frowning grey clouds.
She took a step forward, followed by another. Soon she was stumbling into the small town that lay ahead. Her hand
grasped the knife firmly as her arm swung; she looked drunk by the way she was falling over her steps. She ran her
tongue along her yellow coloured teeth leaving a thin trail of saliva.
She looked at her nails, blackening dirt hid underneath them. She didn�t like the dirt; she stared in horror at her nails,
�Please�� She begged, �Please, go away�� She said, nothing happened. She was angry at the dirt now. �Go away!� She shrieked,
still nothing, she held up her knife,
and looked at the tip of the blade, �You will help, yes you will because you are my friend.� She said smiling warmly
at her friend.
She slid the tip underneath the nail, she gasped as it scraped the soft flesh at the end of the nail. She began to tug the blade down, her nail was now shifting slightly, she was determent to get rid of that mean nail once and for all, and without it there�ll be no dirt. With one painful gasp she pulled the blade down, it flicked off.
She glanced at the nail on the ground for a moment, now ignoring it she looked at her blade; blood was slipping down the side of the blade. Her eyes widened, how could this be? She thought, her friend, her friend was dirty. She didn�t like that. She wagged a finger at the knife and set it down slowly on the wet grass. �I shan�t play with you again until you�ve had a wash.� She said angrily.
She stumbled into town; no people were out except for the occasional drunk or policeman. She smiled at the few people she saw, but no one would return her smile. It wasn�t so much warm. The smile she held on her lips was a menacing smile, a mad smile.
She waved at objects and birds. Then she saw it, a small butcher shop, on a board on the counter lays a large butcher�s knife. She stared at it stumbling towards the window without a second thought. Now the sun had crawled into the sky with a final lazy groan. Clouds seemed to darken as she stared in the window of the butcher�s shop.
The knife wanted to be picked up, it was lonely, it wanted a friend. She pressed her face to the cold glass and stared at the knife. It winked at her she winked back. She took one large step to the door of the shop and tried to open it. It wouldn�t open. She was angry at the door.
She threw herself at the door and shouted at it, telling it what a mean door it was and it should let it in and it was being very bold. She finally gave up and leaned against the door, tears sprang to her eyes and fell down the sides of her cheeks. She cried hard.
A ruff looking man saw a girl leaning against the butcher�s door; he strode over to her, �What�s wrong love?� He questioned, �I need to go inside! There is someone waiting for me in there!� She answered. The man raised a brow and cocked his head, �What might be your name lass?� He asked her, she didn�t know, she couldn�t remember.
�I can�t say. Please� just let me in!� She cried, the man stroked his chin thoughtfully and stared at her, �Alright, alright, you can go in for a moment. I own this shop and I s�pose it�ll do no harm.� He said pushing her aside. He fumbled around inside his pocket; he took out a small key and fitted it into the lock.
He turned the key, stepping inside he said, �Come on, I haven�t got all day.� He disappeared through another door leaving her with her friend. She walked over to the knife; her fingers were trembling as she picked it up. The knife was happy now, but bored. She frowned in concentration. Her thoughts were broken by the butcher banging inside now wearing an apron; he looked at her now holding the knife. �What ye be doing holdin� me knife eh?� He questioned her, she didn�t answer, all she did was stare at the man, �You stopped me thinking!� She shouted at him, he merely shrugged it off and picked up a different knife and began at his work. She was angry now, she stumbled up to the man, he ignored her and went ahead with his work.
She raised the knife; it dug into the back of his right arm. He let out a yell; she didn�t care about his pain,
the blood poured out that was her music. She could keep her show on for as long as she wished, he whined and cried,
but she didn�t care, she didn�t want her friend to be bored anymore.
She thrust the knife into his back, the butcher screamed out in pain, �You� *******� ********* He wheezed, she ignored the insult and chopped away at him, she could keep him alive for as long as she wished with the right cunning and she would�.

Mooncry Part One

A young man stood crouched, body poised like a snake, ready to strike. Then she was attacked from behind, his throat ripped open. The crowd cheered on the fearsome Predator in the arena, telling it the frenzy was not over. I circled the remaining duel competitors, who were fiercely defending themselves, and attacking when able. The Predator, part bird and part tiger, pounced and grabbed another competitor, ripping out their heart. The duel became feirce, shaping the way it would end. The competitors were in panic, rushed only by adrenaline. That would mean their minds were unfocused, and Predator would feast. A contestant hesitated to move for moments, and Predator struck twice, sending the contestant in pain. The grueling process was horrifying. The Predator struck once, twice, playing with him. He kept moving, adrenaline rushing and pain halting his movements. The blood stained his white robes, gory detail available to all. Yet the crowd kept cheer ing, some booing the contestants. Then the horrifying moment came when Predator gripped his neck,at the mans last gurgle came out, signifying his death. The last three competitors breath came heavy, their hearts beating at immense rates. The steady drum of death kept beating, showing them their world, their life, their end.

Mooncry Part 2

The drum beat wildly, a death call for the last competitors. Their lives were at stake, driving them to extreme measures. Predator spotted a woman, and shot at her, as she grabbed on to it's belly. It ran in small circles, unable to get her by sticking it's head underneath itself. Finally it stuck it's back paw under, impaling a poisoned claw into her foot. She fell off, gasping slightly as the monstrous Predator stuck it's huge muzzle into her belly, feeding off her living flesh, not waiting for her to die. She was choked with pain, feebly trying to kick it. It calmly bit off her leg, swallowing it straight down it's throat, then tramped off, letting her bleed. It stared the remaining contestants down, a heavily built man and a small, quick woman. Suddenly, the man leaped atop the Predator, hitting it hard and slowing it down, while the woman jumped and darted, evading all it's attacks. But the Predator soon got tired of chase, turned it's head arou nd, and snapped off the mans head, so quick that it seemed the head in Predators mouth had just appeared. The woman stood, staring at the dead bodies in the arena, her knees like jelly, but a determination of stone.

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