rose_williamson

Why I hate Rodney Square in particular and Bus stops in General



By Rose A. Williamson


I take the bus when ever I go to campus because I do not have a driver’s license. This is partly because I used to get dizzy a lot and partly because of other things. But the why is not important. The fact is unless I can walk some where or bum a ride, I take the bus.

Now I’ve been enrolled in College since January and until May was going to a Campus that is closer to my house. How ever the only branch of this College that give Math005 is in Wilmington, which is over an hour via bus ride.

The distance means that to get to a class at 9:00 I have to get up at 6:30. I have time to find breakfast and get ready, before I walk over the mile to the bus stop with my heavy bags. I then inevitably wait ten minuets to half an hour because the bus is late. (Aside from that one time I showed up a minute late and the bus came early.)


So I bring a book and thermos of iced coffee. At the first bus stop of the day which is in front of a police station I don’t usually get harassed, because most people don’t; screw with strangers in front of the Police department.

So I get on the bus and inevitably by the time I get to Wilmington am squished between some fat bastard and the wall, next a stinky person, some one mentally unstable or generally shifty looking, or something trying to look down my shirt. (Seriously have you never seen fucking boobs? I’m not even wearing sexy shirts.)

So eventually I manage to get off in front of Campus unless the Bus driver is being a complete asshole and won’t stop (I’m looking at you balding, 400 pound short, black man who drives the 33 and always hides his name tag. Seriously you deserve a whole post about how much of an asshole who are. )

Now see wile the busses will stop in front of Campus when you ring to get off, if you try to flag them down the driver ignores you. And the times for the bus stop in front of the Campus aren’t posted nor are they remotely accurate to what is on the website or bus schedule. So I walk like ten blocks to Rodney square.

Now Rodney square is not mere bus stop. It’s fucking square of bus stops with statues benches and it’s very own hobos. Rodney square always has a ten degrees difference from the surrounding area. In Summer it’s hotter in winter it’s colder. The summer makes sense with the cars and the buses and the people but the Winter shouldn’t even be possibly.

Now at any given time there are fifty to a hundred people in this place. There is always some one smoking pot. I think the cops don’t even bother. There are always obnoxious fights and epithets of some kind being hurled. I mange to stay uninvolved.

But that’s not the worst part. The worst part even worse than waiting for an hour because your bus is late when the terminal is five minuets away, worse then the smell of sweaty un-bathed hobos are the creepers. You know what I mean if you’re female. Those guys that troll the bus stop trying to get a girlfriend or a one night stand or on some occasions try to pay you for sex.


You’ll be sitting there reading a book with your I-pod in and your sunglasses on, the universal signal for, dude don’t fucking talk to me. Some guy , generally ten to fifteen years older then you will be sizing you up from the other side of the bus stop. If he is with friends there will be whispering and some one chanting “Go for it”, or what ever the slang equivalent of their peer group is.

So they guy walks over and sits down then asks if he can sit down. You shrug, or say I don ;t care, or generally try to show lack of interest. The guy will ask you what you’re reading and generally interrupt your shit trying to start a conversation, hinting that he’s single looking for a girl, and has money or a car.

You’ll try to act really interested in your book so the random stranger who may or may not have given you his name is this point gets you want to read your book and have random people on the street attempting to hit you up/

Eventually it gets to the point where the guy asks you if you’ve got a husband (If you have rings as jewelry like I do) Or if you have a boyfriend or if you’re just looking for a good time.

When you inevitably say no, or don’t answer they go on a long tangent about how a pretty girl like you should have a man to take care of her, and keep her company. Because apparently none of us like being single. Or are gay, or aren’t interested in random bus stop guys.

So when you eventually try to say politely that you aren’t interested one of these things happens :

The guys gets even more disparate, listing of reasons he should be desirable. This is pathetic.

He accuses you of being a bitch or arrogant because your think you’re too good for random bus stops.

The guy asks if it’s “Because he’s black”. Now see this really pisses me off. The fact that you’re black doesn’t have anything to do with this. The fact that you’re some random guy who can’t wear clothes in the proper size, care a conversation with a woman with out coming off like you want to fuck her, that you’re staring at my chest, sitting uncomfortable close to me, and generally being an annoying creepy fuck, is why. it’s not because you’re back IT’S BECAUSE YOU’RE STUPID! And then what, you try to bring race into it for what reason? To guilt me into reciprocating. To boast your ego and assure it must be a problem with me being shallow and petty and not some legitimate reason I don’t want to go home with you.


Almost as annoying as the above and infinitely more creepy is the guy who acts like you didn’t just say no who keeps flirting with you and follows you to your bus, on the rare occasion getting on and trying to sit next to you. Personally I find a good solution is to talk about you’re girlfriend or boyfriend sic kingly sweetly to no end, combined with subtly showing a can of mace, and going on about how jealous and stuff they get. Warning if you mention a girlfriend and you don’t have shaved head and hairy legs they might doubt you’re gay and try to tell you you’re just confused.


The guy accepts that you are not interested and makes some excuse to leave, going back to where ever he was.

He sits awkwardly next to you staring and your chest butt or what ever part of you is conventionally attractive.



And finally here are a list of annoying things that are often said to me.

“Hey are you Irish?” That is a dumb and unnecessary question if you live in this country and can’t guess by looking at me you need an intelligence test. I have red hair a stocky build, pale skin, freckles and I’m short. That’s like if I walked up to a man with olive skin black hair dark eyes speaking Italian and asked him if he was Italian. This is not a fucking conversation starter. This makes you look retarded.

“Are you naturally that pale?” What the fuck? No I was dropped into a vile of bleach as child and never recovered.

“You’re sexy I like your boobs” Go die in a fire right now. Seriously go, weed your self out of the gene pool.

“Have you found Jesus” Why is he lost?

“Have you been saved?” Yes I found a saved game crystal when I left class and have not made significant enough progress to need to save again but thank you.


“Are you a vampire?” Yes.

AH! Pentacle You must be Satanist” …You have no concept of religion out side your own your you would realize “The devil” Is only a figure in the Abramic Religion though Zoroastrianism has similar figure. Wicca how ever, does not. The Satanist symbol is an inverted pentacle, and probably aren’t what you think they are. Good job you have betrayed the depth of your stupidity and lack of social skills. Have a nice day, Dick.



Please use decent manners and common sense wile riding public transportation, thank you.

Erotic literature an ever expanding review

Before we get started yes I know I am pervert depraved and lustful. So are you, probably, assuming your youth. So if sexual things offend you, if you dislike the erotic kinky aspect of literature, go read some one else’s entry and skip this. This is not for the faint of heart or libido. That said, lets do it <See a double euntandra. Now by erotic literature I do not mean that which you find in the grocery store section under “Romance”. That is literary Shire pure and simple. I’m talking rich sexual and sensual the literary equivalent of eating choc let covered straw berries with your partner butt-naked in a room only lit by candles and perfumes by the smell of flowers and perfume. Now I’m going to divide these into subcategories based on sexual preference and fetishes or for those puritans out there “perversions” First I shall focus on lesbian erotic literature, because I’ve read the most of it and it’s hard to find good reviews on it. First off you have Carmella which technique not erotic literature toes the line in a French h sort of way, honesty I can’t remember if it was originally written in French or German. The story a short one chronicles the subtle seductions of the protagonist Laura , by a vamperess named Carmella who is staying with her. It’s very well written and compelling. How ever it is devoid of out right sex, or even necking. If you like things with lesbian undertones or if you just likes vampires you’ll probably enjoy it. I will provide you with a link as the copy right has expired and renders me not liable to live journals anal retentiveness regarding piracy. Oh wait yes it's french. Here is the link http://www.english.upenn.edu/~nauerbac/crml.html Moving on, still in the category of Lesbian erotica you have Ann Bannon’s books which don’t exactly go for the explicit sex, though you get lot of purple proze, also know as flowery disciription. I have not read all of her books though most of them are sitting on a shelf in the bed room. Her books the Bebo Brinker chronicles. They would probably make more sense in order but one can read each individual novel as a story unto it’s self. I have not read the first one, which is called “The Odd girl Out” I have not read this one but from my understanding it chronicles Laura a young college girl with an abusive father, and her first lesbian experience, it ends badly and I’m not sure if there is sex in it. Once again it’s sitting on my book shelf next to my math text book. The next in her series is called “I am a woman” Again it has the same main character, but in this novel she runs away to New York city. Mind you this is in the sixties so things are ever so slightly different. She befriends a gay man named Jack and feigns dating him after moving in with a straight friend of his, Marcie. Marcie toys with her not knowing the existent of her feelings. In this novel we are introduced to handsome boyish trouser wearing sapphist named Bebo who’s aim is to seduce Laura, Eventually it works. It’s very well written has very erotic and well done sex scenes. I’ve not read the next two books in the series “Women in the shadows” Or “Journey To a Woman Yet” I did how ever read the final book with a is prequel called Bebo Brinker. This takes place maybe teen years before the events of “I am a woman” and describes Bebo leaving her small town and moving to New York. She befriends the same Jack and becomes involved in a very interesting love triangle, pulled between a wile femme named “Mona: who serves more and an antagonist and foil, a kind young woman named “Paula” who was formerly involved with Mona, and a celebrity in the closet referred to as Venus who she moves to California under the pretence she is an assistant for her son. There is a lot of character development and cliff hanging. The sexual content is explicit. These books are some what hard to come by in person but, various used book websites sell them. Try Albries, Borders Market or Amazon to start. Spring fire is written by Vin packer , who is actually a woman using a pseudonym, because most erotic novels at the time were written for and by men. In this book Susan Mitchell ("Mitch") is involved with a sorority girl Ledya Taylor, the relationship is secret and not completely explicit because of the censors of the day (It was written in the fifties during the McCarthy era, so yeah) It is as the censors required broken off with Ledya being revealed as mentally ill and Mitch not actually being gay but just confused. Aside from the ending, which was obviously forced it’s rather compelling and a bit sad. Now perhaps the crown jewel of this type of erotic was written by Susan Waters and was called “Tipping The Velvet” This book is a historical novel set in Victorian England, told from view point of Nancy (Nan) who falls in love with male impersonator, Kitty Butler. She leaves her family that owns an oyster restaurant in Whitstable, Kent to become Kitty’s dresser. The two have a secret love affair which goes on for over a year, during which time Nan also becomes a male impersonator after the suggestion of Kitty’s friend and manager, Walter. Upon telling her sister of her lesbian relationship she visit’s the family not quite fitting in any more with her London ways. Returning early from her vacation she finds Walter in bed with Kitty. After being told they were getting married she fled taking her male costumes with her. Eventually she becomes a rent “Boy” Dressing up in costume and doing anything but Buggery. This goes on until she meets a woman named Diana who more or less keeps her as a pet using all sorts of sex toys and costumes for the amusement of the social elite woman who feel the need to be naughty. This goes on for a year, perhaps two until she uses Diana’s strap on to have sex with Zena the serving girl. She is then hen ious beaten and turned out penniless. She eventually finds a girl she knew once who invited her to a rally named Florence. After initially being unable to get along due to Florence’s politics activism the two becomes torrid lovers. Kitty eventually shows up at the rally and Nan turns her down wanting to be with some one willing to love her openly. The story is beautiful written and the characters develop like people. The erotisimim is at some points blatant, though it creeps in subtly through out the whole story. *Note tipping the Velvet refers to females preforming oral sex on eachother, it has nothing to do with sewing. Another book of the same Genre by the same author is “Finger smith” It is told from the perspective of two girls, a orphaned thief Sue Trinder and an aristocrat Maud. It involves a plot to steal the later woman’s inheritance via a marriage with some one know as “The Gentle Man” who sues Sue to pose as a maid and friend. I can not explain any further with out ruining it. There is a deep sensual madding romance between the two women a few decent sex scenes and more twists than soap opera, All and all it is well written and fits together eerily. Now that we are done Lesbian fiction lets us move on to Sado-masochistic erotica , which I should admit I don’t know much about. One of the best so I hear books about this is called Venus in Furs which is the story of a young mascostic man who agrees to literally be the slave of a woman he desires who he wants to dominate him. The deal is that he will obey her every whim and she in turn will always dress with fur as per his fetish. There is little to no subtly and the purple prose at times gets awful but it is an interesting look into the consequences of the Sado-masochistic fetish going beyond sex and foreplay into the actually relationship rendering it abusive. The copy write has also expired on the English translation of the German copy. You sahould be able to find it in Gutenburg project. Google it. It;s nto ilelgal to torrent because the copy right has expseride. And sadly that is all I have in that sub-genre. If any one could link me to some decent books on that I;d be more than happy to read and review. The next section is general erotic or fairly normal stuff. The first and perhaps most well known is Don Juan Tenorio Which is a Spanish play. The English translation is not hard to find. This play delves into the sexual conquests of the titular character who has made a bet to seduce his friends Fiancée and a novice nun in the same night, Despite being a complete bastard, which is kind of the point, he is an interesting and compelling character. For those of you more familiar with Byron’s epic poem Don Juan, the character interpretation is very different and more like Mozart and Ponte’s Don Giovanni. The end is more or less a mind screw due to ghost statues avenging him and the wrath of God Ect. How ever it is still rather entertaining. An honorable mentions goes to “The Count of Monte Cristo” (The more recent unabridged translation you can get from penguin classes). By Alexander Dumas. Wile not being straight up erotic there are many erotic scenes involving a man possibly having sex with a statue will high on hashish, and impactions of lesbianism. It is how ever the greatest revenge novel ever written. These are most of the memorable erotic novel I have read, and I am currently working on “The Memoirs of Casanova, and will soon read “{Arabian Nights” I hope you’ve enjoyed this entry on erotic literature.

I dear viewers if any of you exist, have been gone for some time. I apologize but real life was calling. Now that the summer is here I Rose A Williamson shall be here to entertain you once more. Topics I intend to cover soon., include, reviews of decent erotic literature, or semi will written literary pornography, as some call it. My scientific experiment which is being conducted to see if I can get a tan. Also my attempt to lose weight will be chronicled. I hope I as an internet blogger can keep you entertained. That is the main purpose of my public entries.

I would also like to make a disclaimer that I am not responsible for your actions even if they follow from my advice, You are responsible for my actions. If you take something done on The Internet seriously and get hurt it’s your own fecking fault not mine. That said, happy memorial day and please enjoy.

According to the American psychiatric association homosexuality does not qualify as a mental illness, It is not in the DSM IV-TR (Diagnostic and statistical Manual of Mental Disorders), what Doctors and a Scientists use to identify and diagnose illnesses of the mind. According to Numerous Anthropologic studies, it has popped up in Ancient Egypt, Sumerian, Mongolia, Aboriginal Australia, Inca, Maya, and Inuit cultures, in addition to Celtic, Hebrew and Latinate cultures. A great number of these cultures never has social interaction, ever, and most that did lived independently for centuries, the theory that homosexuality is some how contagious, or a hereditary illness passed through blood is highly unscientific.

Studies involving brain scans during arousal of both heterosexual woman and homosexual men, show that the same part of their brain is triggered when they are aroused sexuality or romantically, namely the part of the brain that is connected with memory, and the part of the brain which is connected to instinct.


Also, throwing the final nail in the coffin of the argument that homosexuality is unnatural, is the fact that is practiced, by both sexes, in creatures such as, apes, swans, Dolphins and penguins, with the same social interactions in mating roles as between a heterosexual couple of the same species.

So we have proved Scientifically that it is not unnatural, now for the choice aspect;

The theory, and I use that term loosely, has been posited that homosexuality is a choice. Logic and common sense dictate that this is a faulty theory, colloquially know as “Bullshit.”

Let us look at historical consequences of being openly homosexual, you have death by immolations(Being burnt alive, Hanging, and numerous means of death, Exile, being disowned, loss of employment and property, loss of friends, and other things the author has likely forgotten.

So, the theory is that we homosexuals, chose to be what we are, to accept blackmail, beatings, and go against every instinct of self preservation known to man for what? To anger conservatives, to be cool? What sense does that make?


I tried to be straight. I tried for years. I went to church every Sunday, confession at least every other Saturday, prayed for hours on my own, beginning God to make heterosexual. And you know what, I can’t be attracted to a man. Even if I try. Friends yes, but I can’t love him romantically.


So this is not caused by mental or psychical illness, choice, nor must one be indoctrinated into it. What else does that leave but a natural phenomenon?

I dream of Hades

Last night I entered into a deep meditation, and Tarak came to me. He warned me what I was about to do was dangerous and perhaps foolish. I took no heed, and climbed upon his back. We road across the Atlantic, traveled through the deserts of Africa and through the fields of Greece.

It was some what hot when we came to the entrance of the dark cave. He walked with me into it and informed me that once I ventured in I could call him only once, for this was an abode meant for mortals, and not spirit guides.

I walked for a wile and came to dark valley in the cave. There were many mute shades who wandered two and fro. Two of them stood out. One was the poet Virgil, and the other was a woman I could not place, though she was a Greek tall in stature and quite beautiful.

I approached Virgil and asked him, “Are you to be my guide?”

He laughed, thoroughly amused by my simple question.
“No, you are not Dante, your guide is another poet, one who’s words are closer to your heart, she will guide you.”

I looked over at the other woman, and recognized her from a statue of her bust. She was Sappho of Lesbos. She walked towards me and spoke.

“Oh red headed maiden, child of the Celts, and worshiper of the gods of old, I shall be your guide through Hades, and shall take you as far as I am permitted to go. I who scorned the Illyrian Fields so that I may gaze upon my beloved Persephone for all ages, shall guide you as far as I am permitted, to the throne room of the dark lady and her consort.”

I nodded my head, hiding my surprise. Well, her poetry was closer to my heart than Virgil’s, I thought to my self.

We walked further, and she stopped me , stretching out her arm, which was, though dark than mine, fair. “To pass through the elements, mean to keep mortals from venturing where they are forbidden to go, there must be an offering of blood.

“…Is there any way I can leaves an I.O.U?”

“No. It must be blood, and a good deal.”

I looked down and there was a large bowl, I cut my leg over it and a little bit of blood flowed, though not much. “Tarak!”

He came. “Clever, they never said the blood most be of a human, I am at your service, my friend.”

“Forgive me the pain I am about to cause you.”

He smiled a toothy grin, and I cut him on the shoulder. He did not cry out, nor did he even flinch.

The blood soon filled the bowl.

“I will see you after you return.”

I smiled and thanked him.


I lifted the bowl of blood with some difficulty.

Sappho spoke. “Pour it into the ground, and you will be able to pass.”

I tipped the bowl so that the blood spilled into the ground, my heart racing as I did so.

The ground absorbed it and it vanished, as if it was never there.


We walked into the dark cave and took some turns. I could suddenly smell smoke and feel a great heat. I stopped.

“You must go on for the answers you seek.”

We walked, and came to a bit of the cave which was consumed in fire, thought nothing burned. I passed through, feeling a greater intensity of heat than I had ever in my life felt. It burned with great intensity, though there was no damage to my skin, only worlds of pain. After what seemed a century, we had passed through the fire, no worse for the wear.



I could feel a great gust of wind, and I shivered from it’s chill. I pressed forward, the great poetess of Lesbos guiding me. It seemed these tests did nothing to her, perhaps because she was already dead.

I was not left much time to muse on the nature of my guide, as the wind picked me up and carried me to a bit of the cave where the ceiling was hundred of feet high. I could hear the flapping of wings as I was carried into the air.

Three hideous woman, barely clothed, with leather wings flew about, pushing me to and fro, shrieking like banshees. It was some time before I could make out their words.

“Sinner..” Said one.

“Violator of codes and oaths.” said the middle one.

“We know your sins!” Said the last.

They pushed me about slapping and clawing at me, telling me all of my misdeeds, failures and weaknesses.


“Madness is the price of inequity”, they all chanted and once.

“Madness and regret are our gifts”, chanted the chorus.


I paused for a moment, wondering if this was the end of my story.

“Oh kindly ones, there is one more guilty of betrayal than I. I believe you know of him, he is called Neaves.”


The Furies all shriek in hideous laughter and flew off. The wind stopped, and I plummeted to the ground. It hurt.



“Oh lovely fiery maiden, you have passed through earth, fire and air, there is only one more element.”

We walked for a wile and we came to a river, what I can only presume was the river Styx .

There was an old decrepit man pushing alone a boat big enough for two. His eyes were like gaping holes, though I knew he could see me. He used some odd form of long paddled which seemed to push from the bottom.



I knew what I must do. I dove into the river, and the poet followed. The water burned my nose and eyes is something sucked me down to the bottom. I flailed for a minuet at least, only able to get feet from the surface. I was sure I would drown, and never return to the land of men.

As my head grew foggy and my lungs burned, I could see Chiron , the Ferrier of the dead, rowing over me. It seemed he had been passing back and forth between the shores.

His oar nearly struck me in the head. I grabbed it and was pulled up into it. He was enraged, but seemed unable to stop rowing to the other side of the shore where many shades shuffled back and forth. I dropped a few coins in , a few dollars worth. He seemed appeased for the moment.

I got off on the next sure, where Sappho waited for me.

“Well done, my lovely Celt.”

She took my hand and guided me through the shades who were all muttering things to them selves. They were often words and phrases which seemed to make no sense by them selves.

“These are shades of the dead, not good enough to pass into the Isles of the Blessed, but not vile enough for Tartarus it’s self. They must wander here until; their dues are paid.”

I was mildly disturbed, but I walked on. As we entered the next cave the drew a torch from the wall to guide us through the darkness. A few of the shades pulled at my clothing, but they had little strength, I brushed by them.

Wile we walked, we could see a man pushing a bolder up a hill. As he got to the top, it rolled down and crushed him, the cycle beginning all over again.

There were various people chained upside down to walls, or caught in whirl winds. Most of them looked Greek or roman, though there were a few Africans and Celts.

We walked and it became darker. There was a drum beat, and shadows illuminated by the torch dances on the wall. Sappho grabbed me and pulled me into wild dance to the beat of the drum. I could see two others, who I came to recognize as Queen Dido , and Medea.

We were in a frenzied dance, unlike one I had ever been in before. They grabbed my hands as the leapt around and twirled. I soon grew dizzy and fell to the ground, the cave spinning. The woman ripped of their clothes and leapt upon me. Their intent clear.

“I can not. Though you are all lovely maidens, and I am honored, I am married and will not break my vow.”

The dressed and offered me wine. I refused, as to eat or drink in Hades is to be trapped there.


All the Shades but Sappho disappeared, and we walked on. I could see the creature that had tormented me for many months, chained to a wall, some manner of beast eating him then spitting him out again.

His skin was still as pale as corpse, and a snaked slithered in and out of his eye sockets.

I approached and chest the beast a way, it was like a lion, but different some how, though different. It seemed to fear my dagger.

My enemy gasped for breathing, panting like a dog. I came to him.

“Why did you torment me, who sent you.”

He laughed, a sound which seemed to rise up from the souls of all the wicked dead in Tartarus.
“Whore, I will tell you nothing.”

A jabbed my dagger into it’s side, and it writhed in pain, the skin where I jabbed burning.

“I will tell you nothing, wretch!”

I twisted it and blood fell out.


“I tormented you, because I was sent to. You meddle in things that are not your affairs, tipping the scales of battles you were not meant to enter. Your interference is not appreciated by the lord of the desert.”

“Who sent you?”

“He who is the Lord of Chaos, Plagues, Storms and the wild of the desert, he sent me to test your skill and resolve, and of course for your own amusement.”

“That Jackal-headed fuck.”

“He will be most displeased when I tell him of your journey here, fool.”

I cut his tongue out and buried it so it could not reform with his body. I left and the beast approached again.

Sappho was a bit away, having watched. “Ares may be proud of you yet, my fiery haired Muse.”

I smiled a bit sadly, rinsing my hands of blood in a small pool of water.



We walked through many twists and turns, the now narrow cavern maze like. I knew not where I was going, but sweet voiced Sappho lead me.

We soon came to a dark but beautiful throne room.

Upon the throne was the Queen Persephone, Radiant in her darkness, the beauty of Hades.”

Upon another throne, tall and imposing was the lord of the dead him self, Hades.


Hades looked annoyed.

Persephone made some motion with her hand. And the dread king held his tongue.

Persephone laughed. “And the little Celt made it through all the safe guards, into the abode of the dead, alive and well. How amusing.” She smiled warmly.

“Sappho, leave us.”

I bid Good bye to my guide as she backed away at the Goddess’s command, a bit teary eyed. I bowed, silently thanking her for her help.

“You have come to ask a question of she who knows the secret of the dead.”

“I wish to speak with my Mother’s Father, my Grandfather.”

She smiled a little sadly. “You may not.”

“But I madeit here through all the puzzles and oddities.”


“That is true, but he is not here to speak to, he was a Christian, and resides in another place, if he has not already moved on. You will not find him here, he is not Greek, nor does he belong to the Olympians.”

I cried a bit, her voice was gentle, but my hope had been squashed, I would not know if I had made him proud, or hear his voice.

Hades spoke up, his tone some what venomous. “If you can make it out, past those who guard the exist, you may leave unmolested.”

The doorway I had come through was now gone, having been replaced by a wall.

There was how ever , a new exit, through a narrow hall way. I picked up a torch from the wall.

“I bid you well, and thank you for your help, oh Immortal Olympians.”

I walked into the narrow hall way, always of the stench of mold, and something worse.

As I moved forward, I could see a large web coming from the ceiling. It made a canopy, like that of the forest of the Amazon. It was huge.

Once more my heart beat violently in my chest. I could hair something scuttling.

As I pressed forward I had to pass through a wall of web.

Once I was on the other side, I was faced with monstrous spider, nearly the size of an Elephant.

A small whimpering sound escaped from my mouth.

It was black, and it’s jaws the size of my arms, snapping open and shut threateningly.
I ran underneath it, hoping to avoid it’s teeth and the poison I assumed it had.

It chased me through the hall and corned me at a wall in the far end.

I screamed.

As it moved it’s jaw down, I moved towards it’s belly, tossing the torch up. The torch his the creature, causing it to set fire.
The monstrous spider let out a shriek, unlike any sound heard on earth. I caught the torch and moved quickly, the beast falling. I could see as the flames consumed it, a large red hour glass on it’s back.


As it burnt and ceased to move for the better part of ten minuets, I stepped over it, gagging from the smell.

There was, a small crawl space which led to another dark chamber. I began to climb through.
I could hear a low growling, and sadly, I could guess what beast made the sound.

When I climbed out, there was a rather large dog with three heads’ each snarling.

“Cerberus…”

It growled and charged at me, pinning me against the wall it’s jaws snapping.

I shoved the torch in it’s mouth and stabbed wildly.
It howled.


I ran through the next hall way in the dark, stumbling until I came to an area where light started to shine through. Eventually I made it back tot the shore of the river Styx .

Chiron was rowing towards my side of the shore, but did not stop. I ran and leapt into his boat, angering him again. I dropped two more dollars worth of coins, and waited for him to get to the other side. I leapt out, and the tiger was waiting for me.


I climbed on to his back and he walked out through a different cave exit, leading me to a field. I dismounted, hugged him and bid him fair well.


I awoke in my bed at three A.M.

I foudn an interesting poem I'm like to share.

Witch

She sees faeries

And talks to her herb garden.
And everyone laughs.

She feels colors,
And says there is magic in the moon.
And everyone laughs.

She never hurts anyone
And loves her oak tree like a child.
And everyone laughs.

She always helps a stranger
And the neighborhood strays adore her
And everyone laughs.

She sits and cries
And mumbles to the shadows,
And no one cares.

Once her hair was long and bright,
Now it is a matted mess
And no one cares.

She used to dance among the trees,
Now she can't find them
And no one cares.

Dreams of magic fill her days;
Magic she can almost touch.
And no one cares.

The day she died her herbs did, too.
And her oak tree bowed its limbs.
A single candle burned in her window
With naught there but the cats.
And no one understands...

- Morgan Stardancer

Rose's‘s tropes:

http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/RidingIntoTheSunset - When I dropped out fo high school.
http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/ChaoticGood
http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/RebelliousSpirit
http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/RuleOfFunny So much
http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/SlidingScaleOfAntiHeroes Between type two and four.
http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/Nakama -The A team, former
http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/InspectorJavert - Nick and Neaves did this to me.

http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/ptitleeym5vv2h (Screw the rules,I’m doing what’s right) -
http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/DeadpanSnarker
Badass Bookworm
Jerk With A Heart Of Gold
http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/AChatWithSatan - Lilith sort of
Deal With The Devil -Lilith again
http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/Claustrophobia -Subverted high and wide places make me insecure
http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/CoolLoser -Always
Dark And Troubled Past - No shit
http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/DoesNotLikeSpam- I fucking hate fruit flavored soda


http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/DrinkOrder - Mojito!

http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/SeriousBusiness My coffee and drinks
Driven To Suicide Almost

Everybody Smokes Mwhahhaa,fuck you lungs!
Why Did It Have To Be Snakes : GOD DAMN SPIDERS
Fiery Redhead
Flaw Exploitation : I do that all the time
Good Flaws Bad Flaws Some fo both

Must Have Caffeine.
http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/ProperlyParanoid

Ill Girl

Lipstick Lesbian
The Lady's Favour
Lesbian Jock
Little Miss Snarker
She Cleans Up Nicely
Tomboy
Shorttank
Schoolgirl Lesbians So many times
Schoolgirl Rival Stephanie!
Romantic Two Girl Friendship
Tomboy And Girly Girl Rose and Emily

Victoria's Secret Compartment
Onee Sama To Kirstan
I Have Boobs You Must Obey
Genki Girl
Gamer Chick
Cosplay Otaku Girl
Black Bra And Panties
Gag Boobs
Boobs Of Steel
Nipple And Dimed
http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/ThanksForTheMammary Too often
My Eyes Are Up Here
Cultured Badass
Hero With An F In Good sometimes

The Klutz

The Unfavourite
Coincidence Magnets
a Weirdness Magnet.
Closet Key
Both the giving and receiving end

Crazy Homeless People
I always run into them
Fortune Teller
High School Rejects
Interrupted Suicide Myst did it to me
Vigilante Man Via curses
Gay Best Friend To Kasek

Magical Arsehole Witchcraft for good grades, and for settling disputes.

Screw The Money, I Have Rules!

Sarcastic Devotee It’s complicated.
Secret Keeper Jp


Pungeon Master

Brown Eyes boArdering on black
Long Distance Relationship Myst




Love Confession Multipul times
Moment Killer
Psycho Ex Girlfriend More like a Psycho Ex-fling but still.
Secret Relationship for a few months
Unlucky Childhood Friend To Nick

Lasek
http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/HaveIMentionedIAmHeterosexualToday
http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/TransparentCloset
http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/TheNotSecret Note above

   http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/NonActionGuy
http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/AnnoyingLaugh -Sorry, but sometimes
http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/BackstoryStory -I know yours
http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/BewareTheHonestOnes

Cool Loser How the fuck did he not have friends in High school, he’s hilarious
Friendship Moment Telling Rose how it’s a free country and people need to mind their own biensess about her religion .


Game Of Nerds He rps.


Mathematician's Answer God dam nit matt stop doing this. It hurt my brain

More Than Meets The Eye You may think he’s just a good natured autistic guy but he has terrifying character insights.


Odd Friendship Rose was a psychopathic hero with hidden gayness who left Christianity for witch craft and dated his exgirlfriend, wile being a dead pan snarker. He is a Christian (supposedly) straight man from a more traditional background who is a rule follower yet they are like best friends.


Odd Couple him and Myst, need I say more

Pacifist : Refuses to throw a punch. Even when some one had it coming

Smarter Than You Look Oh so much.

Trademark Favorite Food Chicken


Undying Loyalty Only reason Rose is still alive. Seriously.

The Big Guy Gentle giant version


If You Ever Do Anything To Hurt Her Said to Rose Regarding Msyt


Those Two Guys Rose and Kasek.


I'm a Man! I Can't Help It! About Lesbians



A Man Is Not A Virgin Inverted

\Mistaken For Gay Supposedly
Chaste Hero
Good Ol Boy subverted


The Chick A male example./

Wouldnt Hit A Girl If they if ever move in together Rose may be the exception

Butt Monkey


Obfuscating Stupidity possibly.

Gentle Giant
High School Rejects
Lovable Nerd
Gay Best Friend Msyt and Rose
Picky Eater
Better As Friends Kasek and /Myst

Want My Beloved To Be Happy for Myst
The Matchmaker
Crowning moment of Awesome: Threatening to Kick Rose;s ass if she ever hurt Myst, despite the former never having fought and the later knowing Karate, Fencing and Bare knuckle boxing.

Crowning moment of funny: Too many to count

Crowning moment of heart warming: A few. Setting Myst and Rose up when he still loved the former, Sending seventy five dollars for their vacation, his speech about wanting Sarah to be happy, and probably more I forget.

Here come the Christian knights
Dressed in red and white
To bring the Holy Word and set the world alight
Here comes a plague of idiots blinded by their faith
Here comes the Inquisition to burn you at the stake
Here comes the Church of Madness
Bearing gifts of death and torture
Here comes the Church of Madness
Of Jesus Christ their Lord
The fire and the fury
To be our judge to be our jury
Here comes the Church of Madness
Of Jesus Christ their Lord
A new dark age descending, it's Torquemada's dream
Liberty lies raped, crushed, broken
Neath the Christian war machine
Nation after nation falling
In the shadow of the Christian sword
With death they bring the lore of love
Here comes the Church of Madness
Bearing gifts of death and torture
Here comes the Church of Madness
Of Jesus Christ their Lord
The fire and the fury
To be our judge to be our jury
Here comes the Church of Madness
Of Jesus Christ their Lord
(aaaaaaah)
What do they tell the people of their old crusades?
Of the women and the children
Impaled on Christian blades
Rejoice they say for we are saved
And we must sing the fight
Sing it till your lungs burst or they'll set you alight!
Here comes the Church of Madness
Bearing gifts of death and torture
Here comes the Church of Madness
Of Jesus Christ their Lord
The fire and the fury
To be our judge to be our jury
Here comes the Church of Madness
Of Jesus Christ their Lord

One of the worst things in the world is a fake friend. Some one ho hangs out when the times are good, jokes around, and maybe helps you out a few times, but when the shit hit’s the fan, bails.
Some one who is willing to be your friend when it looks like a good move socially, but once they’d get some flack for it, they won’t even chat with you.

What’s even worse is when you didn’t know they were fake friends, but you had love for them, when you would have died for them if need be, when you sacrificed so much for the friendship and for them to be happy. When they were like a brother to you, a friend a confidant. You have almost perfect trust for them.

Then, when you’re at your weakest, when you were an inch from death and about to surrender, they leave you, they want nothing to do with you because you upset the status quo, defended your self when some one attacked you instead of folding like you used to.

It’s like having your heart ripped out through your throat, thrown upon the ground and rubbed out on the cement under their boot like a cigarette butt, though they’d give more mind to that.

It’s like your heart is dying, and it is like a living hell, when you realize a friend is fake.