"Brad, wake up..." an older woman said. She was in her mid forties, with curly red hair and a full body. The woman slowly rubbed a lump of blankets and sheets.
"Go away mom... Seven Mehr minutes... At least." the lump muttered.
"Bradley! Du gotta wake up. Today is the big day. First Tag back to school!" The mother piped. She grabbed a handful of baseball print blankets and ripped them to the ground. This revealed a thin looking boy dressed in only a pair of plaid fleece pants. Brad growled and jumped off the bed. He shoved his mom forcefully out of his bedroom, muttering obscenities under his breath. Brad slammed his door behind her, listening to the clanking sound of various Medaillen against wood. It was Musik to his ears, the sound of many victories. Brad was a very athletic boy, swim team, track team, and even the quarter back on his football team. And now, he was starting his softmore Jahr in high school. Bradley poked through a wire dresser in his closet quickly, grabbing a hemd, shirt and some jeans. He never paid much attention to what he wore, it didn't mean anything to him. A loud ringing sound burst through the room. Brad yawned loudly before reaching over to his nightstand. The Quelle of the ringing was a small, gray, cell phone.
"Hello?" the boy muttered, flipping the phone open.
"Yo Brad, the boys and I are skipping school today. Du in?" the man on the other line asked.
"Sorry man, I have a game later tonight. It's the big scrimmage and coach will kick my arsch if I'm not there." Brad calmly denied. He used his free hand to push open his bedroom door and hurried downstairs. Bradley Reginald Coop came from a very wealthy family of inventors and C.E.O's. This was the reason his house was a gargantuan mansion. If the Coop's and their extended family combined all their wealth, they could buy the entire world. The mansion had a complete gym with everything from a lap pool to an exotic ninjitsu master all the way from Japan. They had three sun rooms, an observatory, five guest rooms, and one master bedroom with a bathtub made of solid gold. Bradley and his family did not sit in the lap of luxury, they were the lap of luxury. Every Jahr his mother donated two million dollars to four different charities as a way of giving back. His father held a fundraiser, in which he drugged the schlagen, punsch with a homemade drug which made people Mehr generous, and donated all the proceeds to animal shelters and endangered species such as manatees and condors. Brad snatched a bagel off the brazilian rosewood counter and plucked his backpack off the floor. All the carpets were made from lama and alpaca pelz which had been gifted to them Von a group of Peruvian farmers. He pushed open his front door and stumbled down another flight of stairs. These lead to a beautifully decorated courtyard with a rose garden and fisch pond. Coolly, Brad hurried down some winding paths and out to the driveway.
"Jeeves! I need a lift to school, can Du manage?" he said, waving to a boy his age. Jeeves was carefully waxing a beautiful car and looked behind his shoulder.
"Of course, young master. Which car?" the servant replied. He had been a lowly orphan which Brad's family had adopted as their butler. Surprisingly enough, he was only fifteen. No one ever sagte anything about him though, they were too afraid to anger the family.
"Um..." Bradley put a finger to his lips in thought. "Cobra I guess."
"Black stripe oder red?" Jeeves inquired.
"Black." Brad yawned again. Jeeves quickly marched into a giant garage. He daintily picked up a set of keys and inserted them into the ignition. Jeeves Hummed to himself happily as he pulled the car into the driveway. Bradley hopped in the car lethargically, dreading the start of another school year. Just another 365 days of sitting around for six hours. On the other hand, Jeeves had always wanted to go to a school. He'd been found Von Brad's family when they vacationed in Britain. They'd smuggled him back and taught him to be their servant. At the age of ten he was making crem bru le and braised Rosemary lamm shanks. Jeeves wasn't just a servant however, he was Brad's best friend. While his mother was off being a C.E.O and his father was locked in his office, Jeeves was always there for Brad. However, the boy didn't understand much about the world, often questioning it. Perhaps it was his overwhelming logical mind which led him to oppose the faults in things. Silently, he drove Bradley to school.
"Good morning students let's get right to work." a very robust and sweaty man mumbled. He shoved the remains of a powdered doughnut into his mouth. "I'm Mr. Warrantel and I'll be your first period history teacher... Today, I'd like to start off with a little intel on the folklore of death. Du know, the grim reaper and such."
"Like shinigami?!" a tan skinned girl piped. Mr. Warrantel turned to face her and growled lowly. It was a terrible sound that was scarier than the roar of a lion.
"Yes, Miss Scotlyn, like shinigami." he sneered. Brad scoffed at his anger, finding it stupid and childish. He wasn't one to get mad over nothing. Brad was a firm believer in the saying 'if Du sweat the small stuff you'll drown'. Warrantel waddled up to the front of the room. He pulled down a projector screen, having to jump to reach the cord due to his stoutness. The disgruntled teacher then switched his computer on and put up a slideshow. It seemed to only be pictures of a skeletal being in a black cloak, gripping a scythe. However it soon changed to pictures of wild looking demon's and even to a picture of what death would look like as a human. "Death is sagte to be many things, mainly we think of it as just passing to the other side. However, many people think that the grim reaper is death and-"
"Knocky, Knocky Mr. Warrantel! Guess who has a new student?" a very peppy secretary said. She was standing in the doorway right Weiter to a very small girl. Her hair was the color of a raven's feathers, rich and black. It was slightly curled at the ends, giving her a Mehr ghastly appearance. The child's skin was pale and she had huge, dark, bags under her eyes. Brad slowly moved his gaze back to the slideshow. At first, he thought it was just a joke. A harmless prank pulled Von the new girl. But as the Sekunden passed, Brad realized something. The picture currently displayed was that of the new girl.
"Hopefully not me..." Mr. Warrantel snarled. A few saliva particles flew off his lips as he spoke. The girl drew back at the sight of him, nearly cowering.
"It's Du silly billy! This here is Golgotha Mournsing! Everyone say hello!" the secretary cheered. Golgotha was utterly disgusted with her cheekiness. She wondered if the woman ever stopped being so peppy. If Golgotha could have, she would have killed her instantly.
"I um... I told Du to call me death." she protested.
"Hi Golgotha..." a few of the students muttered. Without any warning a young boy stood in his seat. He had straight dark hair that covered his eyes and wore a giant black trench coat. The boy pointed a gloved finger at Golgotha, breathing heavily. Bradley perked up and watched intently as the scene unfolded.
"I-I know y-" he began but was cut short as he fell to the floor. There was a loud thud as his body impacted with the cold hard linoleum floor. Scarlet blood trickled out in a small pool. The pool began to dissipate and in an act that seemed straight from a horror movie, it slowly drained toward Golgotha. Screams filled the room with shrill panic. Children ran from the classroom, pushing and shoving Golgotha out of their way. Even Mr. Warrantel and the perky secretary fled the scene. Only Bradley stayed behind to gape. Watching as the small stream of blood wet the soles of Golgotha's black, knee-length, boots.
CHAPTER TWO
"I am so, so sorry Du had to see that. And especially on your first day. Would Du like to go home, Golgotha? Du can if Du need to. What about Du Brad? Are Du alright?" a different, much less joyous secretary asked. Golgotha could actually stand to be near this one, relieved that the other had gone Home in a pool of runny mascara and washed out eyeshadow. She feared that if she stayed around for too long, people might get suspicious.
"Is he okay?! Is he in the hospital?! What happened?!" Bradley cried. He was utterly lost. First he saw the matching Foto of death and Golgotha and now a kid had cracked his skull open. It all seemed to sinister, like a bad dream. What if Golgotha was death? What if he was next? The probability that something was about to go wrong for him was immense. And what would his family do if Golgotha killed him? He was the only air to the Coop throne. Bradley had a bad feeling brewing deep inside his soul, a feeling that bubbled with intensity and fear.
"Cooper is just fine. He's in surgery right now and the doctors are fixing his skull." the normal secretary said. She spoke with the calmness of someone who had seen death before and understood it. In fact, Miss Perumal was a retired medical examiner and an extremely pragmatic individual. She'd Lost her own son in a car crash and her husband had been mugged and shot. Needless to say, death seemed to eagerly follow Miss Perumal through her life.
"O-okay... I'll stay here. I have to go to a scrimmage game tonight anyway." Bradley sighed, leaning back in the cushy office chair. Perumal nodded darkly and turned to Golgotha. She was staring, in a very confused manor, at a phone.
"I'm fine as well. My parents are nurses and work all Tag and night. They almost never come home, not even on holidays. I support my younger sister and I live at 1187 Chortle Avenue. My best Friends are my sister, Helena April Mournsing, and my significant other, Gunter Missin Ross." Golgotha sagte in an emotionless and nearly robotic fashion. Bradley shifted uneasily in his seat. Giant, metal, Schmetterlinge were attacking his stomach at this point.
"Go away mom... Seven Mehr minutes... At least." the lump muttered.
"Bradley! Du gotta wake up. Today is the big day. First Tag back to school!" The mother piped. She grabbed a handful of baseball print blankets and ripped them to the ground. This revealed a thin looking boy dressed in only a pair of plaid fleece pants. Brad growled and jumped off the bed. He shoved his mom forcefully out of his bedroom, muttering obscenities under his breath. Brad slammed his door behind her, listening to the clanking sound of various Medaillen against wood. It was Musik to his ears, the sound of many victories. Brad was a very athletic boy, swim team, track team, and even the quarter back on his football team. And now, he was starting his softmore Jahr in high school. Bradley poked through a wire dresser in his closet quickly, grabbing a hemd, shirt and some jeans. He never paid much attention to what he wore, it didn't mean anything to him. A loud ringing sound burst through the room. Brad yawned loudly before reaching over to his nightstand. The Quelle of the ringing was a small, gray, cell phone.
"Hello?" the boy muttered, flipping the phone open.
"Yo Brad, the boys and I are skipping school today. Du in?" the man on the other line asked.
"Sorry man, I have a game later tonight. It's the big scrimmage and coach will kick my arsch if I'm not there." Brad calmly denied. He used his free hand to push open his bedroom door and hurried downstairs. Bradley Reginald Coop came from a very wealthy family of inventors and C.E.O's. This was the reason his house was a gargantuan mansion. If the Coop's and their extended family combined all their wealth, they could buy the entire world. The mansion had a complete gym with everything from a lap pool to an exotic ninjitsu master all the way from Japan. They had three sun rooms, an observatory, five guest rooms, and one master bedroom with a bathtub made of solid gold. Bradley and his family did not sit in the lap of luxury, they were the lap of luxury. Every Jahr his mother donated two million dollars to four different charities as a way of giving back. His father held a fundraiser, in which he drugged the schlagen, punsch with a homemade drug which made people Mehr generous, and donated all the proceeds to animal shelters and endangered species such as manatees and condors. Brad snatched a bagel off the brazilian rosewood counter and plucked his backpack off the floor. All the carpets were made from lama and alpaca pelz which had been gifted to them Von a group of Peruvian farmers. He pushed open his front door and stumbled down another flight of stairs. These lead to a beautifully decorated courtyard with a rose garden and fisch pond. Coolly, Brad hurried down some winding paths and out to the driveway.
"Jeeves! I need a lift to school, can Du manage?" he said, waving to a boy his age. Jeeves was carefully waxing a beautiful car and looked behind his shoulder.
"Of course, young master. Which car?" the servant replied. He had been a lowly orphan which Brad's family had adopted as their butler. Surprisingly enough, he was only fifteen. No one ever sagte anything about him though, they were too afraid to anger the family.
"Um..." Bradley put a finger to his lips in thought. "Cobra I guess."
"Black stripe oder red?" Jeeves inquired.
"Black." Brad yawned again. Jeeves quickly marched into a giant garage. He daintily picked up a set of keys and inserted them into the ignition. Jeeves Hummed to himself happily as he pulled the car into the driveway. Bradley hopped in the car lethargically, dreading the start of another school year. Just another 365 days of sitting around for six hours. On the other hand, Jeeves had always wanted to go to a school. He'd been found Von Brad's family when they vacationed in Britain. They'd smuggled him back and taught him to be their servant. At the age of ten he was making crem bru le and braised Rosemary lamm shanks. Jeeves wasn't just a servant however, he was Brad's best friend. While his mother was off being a C.E.O and his father was locked in his office, Jeeves was always there for Brad. However, the boy didn't understand much about the world, often questioning it. Perhaps it was his overwhelming logical mind which led him to oppose the faults in things. Silently, he drove Bradley to school.
"Good morning students let's get right to work." a very robust and sweaty man mumbled. He shoved the remains of a powdered doughnut into his mouth. "I'm Mr. Warrantel and I'll be your first period history teacher... Today, I'd like to start off with a little intel on the folklore of death. Du know, the grim reaper and such."
"Like shinigami?!" a tan skinned girl piped. Mr. Warrantel turned to face her and growled lowly. It was a terrible sound that was scarier than the roar of a lion.
"Yes, Miss Scotlyn, like shinigami." he sneered. Brad scoffed at his anger, finding it stupid and childish. He wasn't one to get mad over nothing. Brad was a firm believer in the saying 'if Du sweat the small stuff you'll drown'. Warrantel waddled up to the front of the room. He pulled down a projector screen, having to jump to reach the cord due to his stoutness. The disgruntled teacher then switched his computer on and put up a slideshow. It seemed to only be pictures of a skeletal being in a black cloak, gripping a scythe. However it soon changed to pictures of wild looking demon's and even to a picture of what death would look like as a human. "Death is sagte to be many things, mainly we think of it as just passing to the other side. However, many people think that the grim reaper is death and-"
"Knocky, Knocky Mr. Warrantel! Guess who has a new student?" a very peppy secretary said. She was standing in the doorway right Weiter to a very small girl. Her hair was the color of a raven's feathers, rich and black. It was slightly curled at the ends, giving her a Mehr ghastly appearance. The child's skin was pale and she had huge, dark, bags under her eyes. Brad slowly moved his gaze back to the slideshow. At first, he thought it was just a joke. A harmless prank pulled Von the new girl. But as the Sekunden passed, Brad realized something. The picture currently displayed was that of the new girl.
"Hopefully not me..." Mr. Warrantel snarled. A few saliva particles flew off his lips as he spoke. The girl drew back at the sight of him, nearly cowering.
"It's Du silly billy! This here is Golgotha Mournsing! Everyone say hello!" the secretary cheered. Golgotha was utterly disgusted with her cheekiness. She wondered if the woman ever stopped being so peppy. If Golgotha could have, she would have killed her instantly.
"I um... I told Du to call me death." she protested.
"Hi Golgotha..." a few of the students muttered. Without any warning a young boy stood in his seat. He had straight dark hair that covered his eyes and wore a giant black trench coat. The boy pointed a gloved finger at Golgotha, breathing heavily. Bradley perked up and watched intently as the scene unfolded.
"I-I know y-" he began but was cut short as he fell to the floor. There was a loud thud as his body impacted with the cold hard linoleum floor. Scarlet blood trickled out in a small pool. The pool began to dissipate and in an act that seemed straight from a horror movie, it slowly drained toward Golgotha. Screams filled the room with shrill panic. Children ran from the classroom, pushing and shoving Golgotha out of their way. Even Mr. Warrantel and the perky secretary fled the scene. Only Bradley stayed behind to gape. Watching as the small stream of blood wet the soles of Golgotha's black, knee-length, boots.
CHAPTER TWO
"I am so, so sorry Du had to see that. And especially on your first day. Would Du like to go home, Golgotha? Du can if Du need to. What about Du Brad? Are Du alright?" a different, much less joyous secretary asked. Golgotha could actually stand to be near this one, relieved that the other had gone Home in a pool of runny mascara and washed out eyeshadow. She feared that if she stayed around for too long, people might get suspicious.
"Is he okay?! Is he in the hospital?! What happened?!" Bradley cried. He was utterly lost. First he saw the matching Foto of death and Golgotha and now a kid had cracked his skull open. It all seemed to sinister, like a bad dream. What if Golgotha was death? What if he was next? The probability that something was about to go wrong for him was immense. And what would his family do if Golgotha killed him? He was the only air to the Coop throne. Bradley had a bad feeling brewing deep inside his soul, a feeling that bubbled with intensity and fear.
"Cooper is just fine. He's in surgery right now and the doctors are fixing his skull." the normal secretary said. She spoke with the calmness of someone who had seen death before and understood it. In fact, Miss Perumal was a retired medical examiner and an extremely pragmatic individual. She'd Lost her own son in a car crash and her husband had been mugged and shot. Needless to say, death seemed to eagerly follow Miss Perumal through her life.
"O-okay... I'll stay here. I have to go to a scrimmage game tonight anyway." Bradley sighed, leaning back in the cushy office chair. Perumal nodded darkly and turned to Golgotha. She was staring, in a very confused manor, at a phone.
"I'm fine as well. My parents are nurses and work all Tag and night. They almost never come home, not even on holidays. I support my younger sister and I live at 1187 Chortle Avenue. My best Friends are my sister, Helena April Mournsing, and my significant other, Gunter Missin Ross." Golgotha sagte in an emotionless and nearly robotic fashion. Bradley shifted uneasily in his seat. Giant, metal, Schmetterlinge were attacking his stomach at this point.
My message: okay, the picture Du gepostet came straight from my DA account. Its my photography. Why did Du steal it? I took the picture myself and Du just gepostet it here. Then your accepting compliments from people when it's not even your art! I'm very upset Von this! Why did Du steal MY photography?!
Her reply: WHAT ARE Du TALKING ABOUT BITCH?! I DIDNT STEAL NO ONES ART! FUCKING ASSHOLE FOR ACCUSING ME OF THIS!! I BLOCKED Du AND ANY OTHER PUSSY Friends Du HAVE! Du KEEP ACCUSING ME OF STEALING ART WHEN REALLY, Du stahl, stola MINE FUCKER!!! I FUCKING HATE Du LITTLE MOTHER FUCKER! FUCK OFF Du BITCH! GO WORK A CORNER AND RUB YOUR MOLDY PUSSY ON SOMEONES HEAD! FUCKING BITCH!
I would like Du guys to write her each a response letter. Im so pissed right now, I'm actually Schauspielen civilized.
Her reply: WHAT ARE Du TALKING ABOUT BITCH?! I DIDNT STEAL NO ONES ART! FUCKING ASSHOLE FOR ACCUSING ME OF THIS!! I BLOCKED Du AND ANY OTHER PUSSY Friends Du HAVE! Du KEEP ACCUSING ME OF STEALING ART WHEN REALLY, Du stahl, stola MINE FUCKER!!! I FUCKING HATE Du LITTLE MOTHER FUCKER! FUCK OFF Du BITCH! GO WORK A CORNER AND RUB YOUR MOLDY PUSSY ON SOMEONES HEAD! FUCKING BITCH!
I would like Du guys to write her each a response letter. Im so pissed right now, I'm actually Schauspielen civilized.
This is my first story so sorry if it isnt that good well i really hope Du enjoy and ash is a wolf and everyone elese are humans right now:). invaderimemo: *sees ash* dont be scared its ok come here ash:(is a wolf) shivers invaderzimemo:there there... good wolf ash:sniffs emos finger invaderzimemo:i wont hurt you, thats is (ash is puring) (invaderzimemo loves ash as a wolf) keeps petting ash ash:is comfortable *comes closer to Emo invaderzimemo:GOTCHA ash:eeek invaderzimemo:*hugs ash super tight* dont run away again theres nothing to be afraid of sweet little wolf ash:start scraching emos face (still in her arms) invaderzimemo:ill never let Du go again ash:hiiiissss invaderzimemo:owowowoowowowowowowoowowowowowo it hurts stop scraching ash:*gets away runs up in a tree* invaderzimemo:your a dog not a cat come back grrrr! COME BACK *starts to rain gos home* THE END.
Fanpop when I heard this word life seemed great. I was so happy others shared my passion. But saber and jet have left and others will soon do the same. Fanpop is dying over what? Yep that's right a comment. Not a fight not hate mail one comment. So iask Du two... Why? Jet cares he misunderstood and didn't mean it that way saber he loves you. Saber over reaction? A bit much to leave forever over a comment. I know Du guys were together but just because Du kinda broke up your leaving? I guess I won't be on much either... I got other things to worry about taking self defense classes, boxing, grades, Australia. So much Mehr I just don't know skool is starting up again. My besties are gone. Fates just spitting in my face isn't it?
I know everyone hates me alot sooo i wanted to say im sorry and i promise to quit being mean sometimes everyone can be a jerk and i was a huge one everyone plz can we all start over im sorry irkeninvadermay and invaderjet and well the rest i know the biggest thing i did was that Kommentar i did and i guess i was jealouse that i was not in it sooooo im sorry im Mehr sorry then ever i cant be mean to people that Liebe something i Liebe and that is INVADER ZIM and i came here to make Friends that Liebe invader zim that didnt go to well did it so can we all start over i promise that i will be a better person.