on ratings:
5= I would rush out and buy this book immediately
4= I'd like to see more
3= I'd read it if there was nothing else
2= I'd read it if there was a graded test on it
1= I wouldn't read another word of this story

IMO, anyway

thanks, guys!

Cool I'm gonna work on my entry

Also on a professional note. It would make a mockery of testing someones work if all you did was give a five. Sometimes it makes you think things over if people are honest, and also polite.....

Oh! Well. We all make mistakes, just don't do it again!!!!
Peace people peace....

Dear Webook staff,

If this many people are making the same mistake with every contest, it's time to clarify the rules. I don't remember reading any directions telling people to start a new chapter. Please add these for the next go around.

I made the same mistake with the Palooza. Too bad too. I had a great story that no one read.

Please revise directions.

Thanks!

By the way*!!

By the for the folks who had made the same mistake as me and posted their story here, or for those who are about to post here, I believe you are not supposed to.

You click on start a new chapter button up top, and paste your submission there and then submit it.

Hope that helps!

Papers flying all over the place, depicting the sorry Mr. Black's ignominious life.  Death is a prelude they say.  But to what?  An empty room with no walls!

I guess, I can say anything I want.  Afterall, it is my mind who is speaking and my body that has been runned over by that crap-replaced-by-shit SUV.

I wonder who the driver was.  Maybe an old friend with a grudge for taking a ride with his girl down the La La land.  Or worse!  A CIA black ops hit with the framework of an accident.

Random thoughts, what the hell is happening to me.  I am still talking to myself and my body lay on the naked road as if it committed suicide on its own.

I guess there is no use waiting for the white light to engulf your soul to the heights of heaven or to the depths of hell.

I guess this was just another random accident where people say "Oh!  That was Mr. Black.  That poor soul!"

Mark is a Construction worker and an all around do it yourself type of Guy, when it came to using tools he was the greatest, then it happened as he was taking out a window of an old abandoned house, his friend who was on the roof took off a sheet of plywood, without saying anything dropped it from the roof. As  Mark was taking out the window his head was on the other side as he looked up the Sheet hit him in the Four head
Blood was spurting from the Gash he received, Mark started Yelling at what transpired his friend said Mark what is wrong?
Mark took his hand away from his head and the blood gushed out like a Waterfall. Jim immediately took Mark to the Doctors office, moral is no matter who you are never think the close is clear always yell first give warnings

It happened, my dear, because like many others here, you are sloppy and don't pay attention.

If wishes were fishes ....

oops sorry about the earlier post!!  I don't really know how that happened. Wish I could delete it :P

<p>Never had the grizzled champion felt such pity and contempt before a fight, as he felt for the wretched old cripple he now faced.</p>
<p>“Hey, old man!” he managed in a friendly tone. “I can provide food and shelter. There’s no need…” His words ended as a disgusting wad of spittle landed on his foot from the wretched man’s mouth.</p>
<p>”O well!” he sighed.</p>
<p>“I will try to end it as painlessly as possible” he promised as he aimed his lightest punch to his opponent’s forehead. All he felt as his fist connected into air was the light touch of the cripple’s amputated knee on his, as his sickeningly ripped out from his flesh. Before he could scream, the cripple’s gnarled finger plunged into his surprised eye.</p>
<p>The warrior's final moment was filled with terror, disbelief and pain, and above all a vivid feeling of a finger caressingly prodding through his brain.</p>

   Most guards in a male  juvenile facility are robust men who are eligible as bouncers in any drinking establishment. In one location in Maryland the guards are women who are beautiful cinnamon-colored African Americans who wear tight blue jeans,  colorful long nails and braided hair. 
  On a hot  summer day  two gangs confronted one another where Brenda happened to stand in the middle of boys fighting for their turf with iron fists and steel torsos. Her legs buckled under her as one of the boys kicked her to the ground. He grabbed her perfect hair and began banging her head against the concrete floor littered with dust and blood splatter. Brenda wrestled with him. Another boy's heel went into her head. She lept from the group. Oblivious to the blood gushing from her eyebrow she threw one boy into his cell and walked away smacking her gum and laughing.

                                    How I Rate Work

Although we all have our own ways of placing those coveted stars above an author's piece, I have my own system that I would like to share with the group. I do not work for Webook, nor do I have any special clout. These are just my personal feelings.

First, I do not rate freshly posted work unless it's an obvious five. I believe we all improve with advice, and it is only fair to give folks a chance to fully develop stories before they get zapped with stars... or a lack of.

5 Stars - This is and should be rare. A piece earns five stars from me when it shines in every aspect, be it writing style, story, or uniqueness of the piece.

4 Stars - This means a piece is well written and tells a good story, but something subtle keeps me from placing a five. It could be voice or the story itself.

3 Stars - This is average work. It's not bad at all but lacks something to make it really stand out. This could mean that the author's voice is average, the writing has some errors, or the story doesn't quite fit the prompt.

I usually stop after the three stars. If a piece is worthy of one or two stars, that means it is weak. Is my placing a low rating going to help the writer to improve? Probably not. If anything, it will get them discouraged. Instead, I will offer my suggestions in hopes that the piece will improve. Please note, just because I write in depth hints on your work, does not mean I see it as a one or two star piece.

2 Stars - The work is weak. I have given my in depth suggestions and so have other people, but the author chooses to do nothing to fix the problems.

1 Star - I've only given this rating once. It is reserved for a piece that is morally offensive, against my values or a group of people in society, or shows poor sportsmanship. If someone does not work toward the good spirit of Webook, they deserve a one star rating, and that is the only reason why I will do this.

She opens her eyes,and suddenly feels a searing pain from go through her body. She turns her head to look at what is left of the collapsed building. A heavy slab of  ceiling is lying on her waist down, making her feel like she is being crushed alive, which she very well could be. She tries to reach for the cell phone in her pocket, but even that small movement sends a shock up her arm as if someone just ran a knife through her arm. Then she realizes the blood pouring from a gash on her head, staining her long blond hair. The blood loss from her head and most likely her legs too is making her extremely light headed. The pain is getting worse and she fears she won't be saved. Then she sees him and immediately knows that her one true love is gone. Everything goes black.

Still reading and reviewing, will return any critique given.

General:
Tittle: Save Me
(Unknown Chapter. You'll have to read the whole story to find out.)

"I only leave for a whole day and you ran away from the house, huh?!!" She yelled shoving me onto the ground, making me sob.

She pulled her belt off, as soon as she pushed me against my bed. She had dragged me up to my room by my hair. She locked the door and walked over to me. She ripped my shirt off again, but this time she pulled my jeans off too along with my panties. She smirked and began wiping me with her leather belt. I screamed out loud, the loudest I've ever screamed.

"This is for running away!! Something could have happened to you!!" She wiped me again. I was covering my face with my arms, crying my eyes out.

"Don't you think theirs a REASON why we don't let you kids go outside!!??" She wiped me again, even harder. I screamed. She wiped me again. "YEAH! BECAUSE YO WANT TO KILL US YOU MONSTER!!" As soon as those words escaped my mouth I regretted it. She glared at me and wiped me on my face, leaving a huge and long bloody mark against my cheek. I fell on the floor, crying harder. "You inconsiderate child!!" She wiped me again, before throwing a blanket at me. "Get up!!" She ordered and I quickly but painfully, stood up. I covered my bloody body with the white blanket which immediately got stained with blood.

Mom grabbed my hair and dragged me out of my room. Just as she was dragging me out, the others came out of Lily's room to only get wide eyed at what was happening to me. I cried louder as she pulled me into the forbidden room, locking me inside.

She shoved me against the wall and walked away to a corner, where their was a metal table.

I carefully looked around the unknown room, scared to death. The only thing that was heard was my loud sobs coming out of my trembling lips.

She suddenly turned around and started walking towards me and grabbed me by my bloody elbow. She pulled me over to a bed and laid me down.  She pulled something out of a small box and I realized that it was a big needle.

I gulped as she took the plastic off and she put some liquid inside of it. She turned to me again and grabbed my arm. I started crying louder as soon as she stuck the needle in my forearm.

My sobs soon started to calm down and I fell asleep.


Plot:
Tittle: Save Me

This is a story about a 15 year old girl who was adopted by a couple. She was adopted along with some other kids. But what you dont know is that, that couple abuse of them. This story will make you want to read more and it will make you want more. This is a horror story and if you dont or cant read this type of things, then take my advice, dont.

Character Development:
Grace is and adopted 15 years old girl, who faces family problems. She's abused a long with her other adopted brothers and sisters. She falls in love with a 16 years old boy who helps her through everything.

Interesting! I've posted mine, 'Hunted'. Hope I get some feedback for it at least!

I let out a shriek as my finger was sliced open by my book when I was trying to turn the page. I put my poor thumb on the bottom of my shirt which was sadly white and sniffled.
 " Are you okay?'
My mom inqured from the back of the laundry room. I grunted and she continued washing the clothes. I felt pretty guilty about leaving her alone to do the laundry of the six of us that lived in this spacious home. Well, I reasoned none of my three brothers or dad did so why should I?

I have left a few comments, but have had no return on mine. If someone would read it and comment, I will do the same. Thank you.

Ahhh...oops. wrong place to leave comments...

Amanda - Thank you, that's very kind of you to say.
Penbuddy - Very interesting observations, I never would have guessed vampire, but I can definitely see your points. Alas, Troy was more or less just a troubled individual who really, actually, just didn't care to go on living.
Shana- Great feedback and very in depth, thank you. I agree about using the word 'plumes' twice, something else would probably work better. I'll have to have a think on that one.

please comment mine. It'scalled Office Job: Pens, Ties, And Guns?

I am stil reviewing and commentng on everyone who comments on mine! Thanks to everyone who has given feedback. I really appreciate it.

Hi, please comment on The Paper Crane. Every feedback will be returned. Thanks :)

Read burned and confused. :D

Whoo! first time with one of these things. Check out "Keep It In The Family"...

Please read and rate my submission "Not just a headache..."
I will gladly return the favor =)

Thank you to everyone who commented on my story, "Injured Among the Chipmunks." If I haven't posted on your story, please message me. As always, I will comment on your story if you comment on mine.

Thanks again.

The boy stood alone in the empty city. The city where his mother once fought Saar, the man who murdered her true love.
She always spoke about him: when they first met, the missions they went on together, when he first said 'I love you'.
His mother and that man had saved the planet on more than one occasion and were considered as heros.
That man would have been the boy's father if he had survived.
That day, when he died, was when the boy's mother lost her soul. She set out for revenge and got it, but she still took her own life.
She left her own son with nothing.
"They all believe you're a hero," he said, looking up at the setting sun. "But you're not, you're just a coward."
The boy cringed in pain and looked down to see a longsword impaled right through him.
"Found you!"

Smeared Mascara

and it was in that moment that I realized that he was my one truthful love. And he slowly placed his hand on the back of my head and slowly kissed me and then suddenly out of no where a shot was fired and his body was thrust on to me. "Seth!?" there wasn't a reply. His body went limp and then we slowly slid to the ground. There was blood everywhere. His blonde hair was stained red his beautiful blue eyes were in shock and he was twitching all around in small motions. He had been shot in the back. Seth was dead before the parametics could even get to him, and I never even got to tell him what he meant to me.

The young girl driving the red Mustang convertible was perhaps the picture of well-bred beauty.  Her dimpled face was smiling  as she chatted with her best friend and listened to music they both enjoyed.   Valedictorian of her graduating class, prom queen, and head cheerleader but also known to have deep religious convictions as well.  Her daddy's little  sweetheart.  The boy in the pickup truck behind her had noticed the two girls and was a little more than interested in what he saw; therefore he was watching when the young girl began to text on her cell phone.  He saw the car swerve over the yellow line directly in the path of the oncoming vehicle.  At the moment of impact, the oncoming car veered right into a  guard rail, skidded and came to a stop.  The young girl slammed on brakes, turned around and pulled up beside the wrecked vehicle.  Jumping out , she ran to the stopped car and saw an old woman at the wheel.  Smelling gas, the young girl and her friend with the assistance of the young boy in the truck behind her, the three teenagers pulled the woman to safety.  Crying the young driver of the Mustang, cradled the old woman in her arms as she was slowly dying in her arms.  "Grandmother, I am so sorry...Please don't die!".

As she laid her head upon her dear husband’s chest and held his hand tightly. She listened to the continuous beat of his heart. The air filled with fragrances of incense lingering in the low-lit room, everything had been tidied just for Lon during his attempt to recover from his stabbed wound. “Mei” His every breath was an effort for his wound stung so sharply that he could not move. “Mei ... I love you”. “I love you too”. She felt Lons hand loosen his grip as he closed his eyes and slept. The terrible ache in her heart broke her as she gripped her husband’s body into her arms as if she will never let go. The crickets chirped silently in the night as she tried hard to stay awake but drifted off to sleep with the sound of the seawater dancing in the cold, dark moonlight, He was gone.

does it have to be physically or can it be emotionally?

I'm with you William_Stone. In fact, if it's late at night and I'm tired, I won't even read those projects written in tiny font! Plus, there have been a lot of pieces of longer work on Webook that I've totally skip once I see the small font. If I can't see it, I can't comment on it.

Plot:
Sarah was surprised at how much I was screaming, but she had no idea the pain I felt. It was like my organs were on fire, and ready to explode. I lay on the ground curled up, in a tight ball tears trickling down my face. I looked at Sarah hoping she would do something but she was far too panicked. My stomach had been hurting for days, but the pain had suddenly the pain had become unbearable. At first I managed to bite my tongue so as not to let Sarah know something was wrong. All her life she has had to deal with bad things, and I had always made it appoint to avoid doing anything that might upset her for that reason. Now though it was simply unavoidable. I couldn't move and sarah sat in shock. As her only family began to die of appendicitis.

Posted a submission (title is "DIY (Danger In Yards)") , please check it out, feedback appreciated and will be returned! Thanks :)

Bobby remained on the floor. Staring directly upwards, he knew he could almost definitely use the stool in the upper left sector of his peripheral vision as support to stand, but in the meantime, he just remained. He thought about many things. About who might check on him, and when they might possibly show up. About how he would not have worn his awkwardly short   Coca Cola t-shirt if he knew that he'd be discovered lying petrified on the basement floor... belly out, and sweaty back hair stuck to the gray, deteriorating floor. He thought about companionship and loneliness. Wondering if this situation would have arose if he would have just married one of the beautiful women that he experienced in a past that seemed to be becoming more distant by the second. If he would have just stayed with one of them, this whole situation, this whole reality wouldn't exist. Reality would be a better place. Bobby pondered on and on. Contemplating... if this was a sign that he should settle down, find a wife, have a child. A sign from above that it was finally time to grow up... Most of all, he wondered why he tried to move a full sectional sofa down two flights of stairs by himself. He awoke the next morning, after magical, mangled dreams, only to be forgotten seconds after snapping into consciousness, got up without a second thought, poured an enormous bowl of Fruit Loops, and life continued.

Angel  Mastronardi stood transfixed on the cracked sidewalk in front of the vacant lot that once was privy to the dilapidated, rundown apartment building where she spent the first seven years of her life.  It had stood between what was once Roscoe’s Shoes that was now closed for business and up for sale as a commercial building and a closed deli she remembered once as Harry’s Snack Shack.

     The sound of a blaring horn threw her out of Angel trance and caused her to spin on her feet to catch sight of the chain link fence across the street that surrounded the park that she had once sought as refuge.  She fondly recalled spending many of her summer days there, and it brought a smile to her face.

   Then she remembered.  She shuddered.

    The screams of the children, the screeching of the sirens, and the crying of the spectators ran through her mind  as if it had just occurred. 

     A park attendant was brutally stabbed.  It was her favorite park attendant.  The one who had fed her, kept her safe all summer long, and provided the parentage that her mother had seemed to have forgotten.

    The smile instantly disappeared as she recalled herself trying to barrel against the crowd to get to who she thought was her savior.  When she finally broke through the crowd, she was snatched up by the park superintendant who knew of the special relationship between them.

     “She’s gone,” she told her.  “I’m so sorry honey, but the knife cut her too deep.”

     The injury that had taken away the only love that she had seen as a child left her not only injured herself but utterly broken.

During August, about this time last summer, my pack and I had traveled to a different part of town. It was shady and felt more abandoned than our ussual battle grounds. there was another group of guys waiting for us, walking up and down old, rusted railroad tracks. the obvious leader strolled slowly towards us and things grew quiet as we waited for what came next.
He stopped in front of me and curled his fists. This would be my fight. I waited for him to make the first move. When he did, I dodged him swiftly. Full of energy, he bounced back after each blow I sent him. He was weaker than me, but faster. The brawl dragged on, With hits and misses; Fits only catching air as they whiffed past our heads.
Suddenly the agressor tried a dfferent approach. Vile insults were thrown my way, and I was cursed at again and again. Letting the anger take over me, I charged towards him and began to rip him apart. I could smell the blood, and smiled at a job well-done. I swung his face downwards, my hands gripping his skull. Wrenching his head agaisnt the metal tracks, he cried out.

One of his pack members rushed to his aid, but interfering was against the rules, I flung a punch his way. Arguments arose between both groups, and I felt more arms pushing me back. I was overwhelmed and didn't know what to do next. I lashed out at anyone and everyone who came in my way. I was uncontrollable; and animal defending it's kill.

Before I had time to think, their was an order demanded by someone behind me. Before I could turn around, I was thrust roughly onto my knees and an echoing noise filled the air for a split second. At first the pain was too much I couldn't breath. I lost all thought. My shoulder had been forcefully luuched to the dirt ground, and the rest of my body floated down after it. I felt disonnected from the world.

Please delete below, I posted it in the correct way now. Sorry.

Waking up with a bang as he kicked the wall with such force he may have broken his toe. Not making a sound, he sat up on the edge of his bed looking down, not allowing the pain to exsist yet, he just stares down for a moment. The moment seems to last a lifetime but it was one without any real thought, just a deep sense of peace which was broken only by the inevitable pain catching up with him and at that moment he could feel everything. The sweat from his nightmare to his beating heart which was now not nearly as big as the throbbing fof his toe. Getting dressed as normal he started to wonder how bad his life was to feel such pain as a way to forget the rest of his life as he was living it.

Mine's up. It's called "An Old Friend At Your Door." Check it out. Thanks guys.

I've got mine up as well and will read and comment on yours if you do the same for me!

Once again, if you'll post a comment on mine, I'll do the same for you. Mine's titled "Injured Among the Chipmunks"... for right now, anyway. If I don't get to yours after a critique, please message me.

The world is so chaotic and dangerous. In the best way we should stay at home and read fiction :X






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It was at three-fifteen a.m. when the house clock stopped ticking. The room that echoed its melodic chime was no longer there. The report submitted to the State Coroner's Office by the investigating officers stated that my brother Claude fell asleep with a laptop on his bed. He had  left it turned on and plugged in and, with little or no ventilation due to the heavy bed quilt, the faulty lithium-ion battery burst in flames. It was a habit that ultimately cost both our parent's lives.

Three brave firefighters had managed to take out the unconscious body of my brother from our burning house just as his flesh was beginning to melt along with his flannelette pyjamas.The wailing sound of the ambulance siren broke the early morning silence as it rushed to the Wollongong Hospital. While inside, two paramedics calmly stabilized Claude and methodically cut away his burnt clothing.