My random Life and stories By: Kelsi jones Huntsville middle School 8th grade Anthology May 10, 2013 Biographical Sketch: PART 1: This part of my anthology is just about vampires, werewolves, and romantic relationships that have tragic endings to them. These stories were inspired by my friend Jennifer. When I went to school with her, she’d joke around and mess with me about how she was a vampire. Sometimes she’d try to scare me when I’d stay the night at her house or she’d stay at mine. The stories she’d tell me about vampires and werewolves would help me sleep and gave me an imagination. PART 2: In the spare time I had at school I would write letters to myself and my crushes and even people across the world that I haven’t met before. And I’d keep them. The ones to my crushes usually started with Dear You,… and the others are Dear Whoever is Reading This,… and Dear Me,… I planned on keeping them until I was able to send them off one day and have someone read about my life and how tough it is. Nothing really inspired me to do this. I guess I just felt like I could share something to someone and they’d get me or they wouldn’t th ink I was a freak for writing letters to random people.
My Train Ride I didn’t know exactly where the train was going. After paying my fare, I simply stood on the platform waiting for it to whisk me away to somewhere, anywhere but here. And that’s when it happened. The train started ahead slowly. I heard a heavy loud scr eam from the train and started to get sick, I blacked out. By the time I wake back up, the train had stopped and groups of chattering people were slowly stepping off. That’s when I got off too. When I stepped off I noticed that my bags were a little heavier than they were when I left. I stop to check them…nothing unusual. I just thought that my arms were still asleep from my rest on the train. When I looked up I glanced through a small group of folks that seemed to have no idea that I was there. What I saw was a dark shadowy figure hidden beneath a plank that had a ticket box on it. Right then wonder filled my mind. I didn’t know exactly what it was, what it was doing there, or why it was hiding. I decided I’d sleep at the station that night. I had only had a few hours of sleep when I was awaken by a sound that reminded me of an old stray dog that didn’t seem to like me that well. It was growling. After that I felt a sudden shove to the ground, strange though I vaguely remember standing up. I hit m y head on the concrete ground hard enough to get a concussion from it. Later I recollect waking up with a strange pain, a pain I’d