Syndicate content

Bad

Bad

Submitted by admin on Tue, 01/31/2017 - 12:35

Write from the perspective of an antagonist. How did he or she become the "bad guy" (bully, thief, villain)? What's the backstory?

 

Darkness

Submitted by Writer on Fri, 02/10/2017 - 21:07

       The wind whistled through the crack of my window as it poured outside. I curled up in my bed pulling the blanket over my shoulders to stay warm. A loud bang like the sound of a gun stuck me upright in my bed. As I shook with fear and chilling winds, I got up from my bed and opened the creaking, squeaking door leading to the steep steps of the second floor. Another loud bang from outside felt so intense. It felt like it almost made the ground shake. I ran frantically down the stairs and put on my gray uggs and my jacket then went outside. I looked up at the dark gray, cloudy sky. The cold rain fell softly on my face. I walked down the street and saw a dark figure behind a tree in the woods. I wanted to take a closer look, so I walk towards the tree, then bang! It was completely dark and I was all alone, with no one to help. I felt lost. I felt trapped. 

She, The Mistress of Puppets

Submitted by Writer on Fri, 02/10/2017 - 17:45

    Everyone has good qualities and bad qualities, some with more bad, and some with more good. Marionette of Islia was taught that just the same as the rest of us, that she had good as well as bad. However, it seems her parents were not very convincing in telling her that she was good, or perhaps she simply didn’t listen.

    Marionette was born in grandiose Tuaville, an opulent town bordered by the gentle Sique mountains. Her mother was a seamstress, and her father crafted beautiful works of wood. She was the third child her parents had had, but the only one to survive. As such, her parents fawned over her, spoiling her with everything good and beautiful that the world has to offer. There was never a moment that she was not under their supervisory gaze, not near enough for their interference and safety should any dangers arise.

    It would seem such a loved and well treated child could only grow up to be an incredibly kind-hearted person, or at the very worst, spoiled and immature. However, this was not the case with Marionette. From near infancy, she adored catching any small creature she could and making it “dance,” which included setting it afire or throwing rocks at it. Her soft-hearted parents were shocked and discouraged her actions, but when they were both busy or looking in the wrong direction, she would find a way to do it.

    At four years old, Marionette’s mother, Sebastia, began teaching Marionette sewing in an effort to deter her from her unusually cruel play habits. However, teaching Marionette what “sharp” was turned out to be a bigger mistake than leaving her throwing rocks and playing with matches. She learned quickly, developing speed and accuracy in her stitching at an impressive rate. At the same time, there was an increase in the number of downed crows about town. Many were found with their wings mysteriously stuck to their bodies by what seemed to be black string.

    Years later, after Marionette had turned ten, the townspeople banded together and set her parents’ mansion aflame. Over those years, pets had gone missing, only to turn up dead on their doorstep with patches over their eyes, and strings on their limbs. Children out for a walk at dusk had been set upon by wolves, who had been tackled and strangled to death by nearby parents before any real harm could be done to the youths. The wolves had the same patches and strings. It seemed witchcraft, and the odd, dark child of the Evandalis house seemed the likely suspect, for all her quick movements, cruel smiles, and her ability to seemingly vanish before your eyes.

    For her suspected crimes, her parents burned in their bed, and her mansion burned to the ground, as she watched from the street with her young eyes. All while the arsonists went about their business, never turning back to see the girl standing there, she watched. Women and children frightened in their homes reported having seen a smile grow on Marionette’s face as the fire grew, and that when her attackers turned to find her behind them, that smile bewitched them to walk backwards into the roaring flames, even as their flesh crackled and burned.

    

After the murder of her parents and most of the men in her village, Marionette vanished from Tuaville. Nearby towns reported disturbing, mystical events occurring soon afterwards, then ceasing as soon as they had been realized. Young women and men began disappearing in the night, seen later in crazed, manic states. And as the years progressed, Marionette’s army grew to what it is today- A force more erratically and wildly violent than any before seen in Arveth. And despite Marionette, we still lie to our children about the good in everyone.

#select

Scraps the Monkey

Submitted by Writer on Fri, 02/10/2017 - 15:20

When I was younger my family and I had always gone on road trips. One particular summer, something weird had happend. We went to a gas station to get snacks and gas. I had gotten some cereal, Cinnamon Toast Crunch to be exact. Whilest I was going through the lanes of food and alcohol, I had noticed something, weird like something that was out of place. It had been a stuffed money with a torn arm and big red glass eyes and looked as if the legs had been too small for its body. I had picked it up and had a weird aura, a bad or evil kind of aura, but since I was just a kid I hadn't had a second thought about it. I had asked my Dad if I could buy the thing, he agreed and we had taken it to the cashier and she had said "This isn't an item we sell. It was probally left behind by some baby or child. I'll let you have it for free though, so take good care of it". And so I even gave it a name. Scraps, Scraps the monkey and I took great care of him for did for 9 years, until I was 14 I had taken very well care of it. When your that age though you usualy get rid of the stuffed animals and little toys you had when your younger. I did sell Scraps at a yard sale to a little girl who had fallen in love with it. But once I did I had a dark and depressing feeling and couldn't sleep at night. It was like some kind of curse. Now I'm no religious person or a believer in the superstitious but this really felt like a haunting or a curse.

I had gone with this for a few years and just went with this bad feeling, but now at 20 I'm feeling as if I'm being watched. I'm not sure what but by someone or something. When I had been coming back from my run down job, I had seen Scraps on my doorstep to my house. He was in a basket with a note in it, it had read "It's been a while Lucy". I was very weirded out and scared and confused, I had no idea how he got here and how he knew where I lived. I had picked up Scraps and investigated him a bit. Then I threw him in the street and a semi-truck had ran into him and stuck onto the truck. He was gone. The next day I still felt like being watched and so I was more careful then usual. Looking around more. While I walked to my job I hadn't seen Scraps. I thought he was gone for good. When I had gotten home, I did the usual, ate some noodles and showered and went to bed. But when I had gotten up it was about 2 am. I couldn't move, it felt like someone had been sitting ontop of me. It was suffacating me, I tried to yell but nothing came out of my mouth. Then I heard the most gross and earpiercing screech I had heard in my life and then I could finally move. I jolted up and then I had been in awe, I felt like my whole stomach had dropped. I had seen a decapitated head on the top of my dresser. Her blood dripping down my dresser onto my wood flood. Drip...drip...drip. At this point I had vomited and wet myself and ran into the bathroom. I locked the door and looked in the tub. I pulled back the curtains and to my suprise, I saw him. It was Scraps, in my bathtub, half-way filled with blood sat Scraps. My childhood monkey had become a demon possesed stuffed animal. I ran into the kitchen and grabbed my knife and lighter. I stabbed Scraps 12 times then set the blood in the tub on fire. The whole bathroom went a flame. My right hand got 3rd degree burns and had to patch it up. Now I had to deal with the head. I didn't know how it was but she was a beutiful lady. Silky black hair and a face of a goddess. I had to remove it. I put it in a trash bag and tried to put it in the dumpster out back. 

I admit, I had looked suspicious with a trash bag with only a thing that looked like a watermelon in it. I still had my knife on me if I had seen Scraps again. There had been a man near the dumpster and he had seen me. I didn't want him to report me for suspious behavior so I had stabbed him eight times in the neck and put his body in the dumpster too. I had to get out of there, and fast. I had such a rush of adrenaline and I loved it! My heart beating at the speed of sound and I could feel my muscles pulsing, I noticed that I liked this. I liked this discusting act of killing. I heard myself say this and was shocked. I didn't want to be proud of killing but it was great. I might be going insane but I love it. It's great! I have now killed 47 people and haven't been caught. The police think im dead, I get my money off the bodies so I can buy things and live.

I have to thank you Scraps. It's been great meeting you and I love my fate. Now I must go. See you all.

The "bad guy"

Submitted by Writer on Fri, 02/10/2017 - 15:09

I look up at the gloomy sky, and back at the welcome mat. "Well" I say to myself, "This is the house" I studder slightly in my words. "Rethinking coming here is to late" I say reaching in my pocket, I pulled out a lock pick, "It's the best house on the block". I reach for the doorknob, and stick the lock pick in like a key. I hear the slight *tinkle tinkle* of the doorknob as I wriggle the pick. It opened. I instantly feel the warmth of the house make me feel cozy in the house, but I remind myself I can't stay for long. I pull my black sock mask over my head, turn on the dim lights, and went on to creep down the hallway, each step made a small creak on the polished wooden floor. I walk into an extremely dark living room only lit by the red light of the T.V. screen. "Bingo!" I say very quietly. I unplug the TV and hoisted the flat screen up and held it tight with by hands. But I felt my heart sink as I took a step and felt something different than the living room rug. Something. . . was BREATHING. My heart seemed to pound out of my chest and I heard it. The GROWLING, I could feel its eyes open and teeth show, I involuntarily throw the T.V. across the room into the darkness and run for my life as the dog barks and chases after. Behind my I hear over the dogs nails clicking behind me as I run around in random rooms, the T.V. crashing against the wall and breaking glass and and someone gasping upstairs. I quickly remember, THE FRONT DOOR is OPEN. I try and retrace my steps until. . . the dog, it lurched towards me in an aggressive manner and it clung onto my arm with all its might. I feel every coursing bit of pain in my shoulder I could ever have. "AaAAaaAAaAAhHhHHh" I scream in agony and try and hit the dog in the nose with my other hand. It whimpered and let go. I run to the kitchen closet and slammed the door behind me to hide while holding my arm and clenching my teeth together while I tried to let out soft quiet breaths of pain at I begin to calm down a little bit. I hear the dog sit and start growling again. I think of making a run for it until. . . *weeeeeeeeeeeoooooooooooo weeeeeeeeeeoooooooooo* "the, no. . . it, it IT CANT BE, NO!" I almost scream, it was. BAM BAM BAM I hear on the door "It's the police open up" I hear the door knob turn and my skin began to crawl. I hear a womans voice answer all of the polices questions as they walk in the home. IM DONE FOR. The police open the closest door to the begining of the hall, they are getting closer, I franticly reach for the door handle while still  holding my right sholder with my left hand, the pain didn't matter now, I NEED TO GO HOME I quickly open the door to see what still haunts me 'till this day the angerly steamed face of the officer outside the door, his bald head, his goatee, his chilling size, tall, yet round, and he face he made looked like I had killed his dog, until the day I die, I will never forget that spine tingling expresion of that officer.

How Could This Happen to Me?

Submitted by Writer on Fri, 02/10/2017 - 14:50

Everthing was wonderful the trees, the clouds, the grass.  Just on a stroll around the park. I notiest that there was a  boom noise outside and I did not know what it was.  I went over a noticed that my house had been bomed by a nuclear wepon.  My mother and father were both dead.  I was wondering who did this.  The millatery mabye?  Then i thought what it would be like to be a bad guy.  So I decided be bad.  I atacked the millatary base because I though that it bomed my house. I was on my way to my friends house when the police were chasing me.  I hope i know who bomed my house.  Where would I live now?

 

 

 

 

 

This story was fictional.

Teenage Bad Guy (or girl)

Submitted by Writer on Fri, 02/10/2017 - 14:49

Unloved... unwanted. I was nothing more than a nuisance to my parents. Something they wanted to give away, abandon. It makes no sense to me why people a created a being couldn't love it, but I guess I can't be one to judge. I'm nearly as bad, but it wasn't always like that. 

It was a rainy monday morning, the bus was early, and my mom refused to drive my to the academy. The academy (Glinda's School for the Good) was a 9  ile walk from my dog house. Yes, I sleep in a dog house (my parents don't like me inside). My omom drive by when I was half way done with my walk, my dad drove by, laughing as he sprayed me with water. That was when I realised. My arents didn't love me and they nevr had. I used all the will power I could, and ran screaming after my dad. 

"YOU ARE A HORRIBLE PARENT! I HATE YOU SO SO SO MUCH RIGHT NOW DAD!" I screamed.

"Jeez Lilly, it was just a joke. You're teenage phaze is evil!" he replied.

And that was how I became evil. I also found out that I cannot tae a joke. Ever. Like, seriously, don't joke with me, I will hurt you!

'Bad Man'

Submitted by Writer on Fri, 02/10/2017 - 14:40

They all see me as bad man. A creature that was immediately stamped with a horrific label right when I came into this world because of my history. Apparently, I am a man to keep away from your children and families even though my record is clean. I am terrible without you knowing the who, the what, the where, or the why. I am a 'bad man'.

Who am I, a monster? A monster that keeps my parent's graves clean and decorated with a single flower out of gratitude. A monster that babysits my sister's four children when she manages to snag a night out with friends. A monster that surprises my wife with her favorite magazine bought from the man selling them around the block. A monster that brings my own children to baseball games and aquariums and reads them bedtime stories and kisses them goodnight.

What am I, a bad man? A bad man raised in a brick suburban home with three siblings and two loving parents. A bad man who grew up mowing the neighbor's lawn or walking dogs as an allowance to pay for comics that I would flaunt to my elementary friends later the next day. A bad man who was a friend to everyone during my education and was known as The Friendly Giant. A man who went to college and graduated as valedictorian. A bad man who had a career, wife, and family by twenty six.

Where am I, surrounded by darkness? Darkness that is two blocks away from a cafe that I daily visit for coffee and give the barista a more-than-average tip. Darkness that is neighbors with two families who regularly invite my family over for dinner. Darkness that my wife instantly adored because of the big backyard able to host barbeques and birthday parties. Darkness that is said to be one of the safest neighborhoods in town and currently is.

Why am I a bad man, because I believed in corrupting this earth and everyone in it? Because terrorizing my family, my home, my life, is a simple demand that you couldn't deny. Because, somehow, my life is less than yours because of how different I am from you. Because I was raised in a place that has tragedy in its history, much like every place else.

You see me as a bad man. My differences make you my enemy, even if we are much alike. I am terrible even though you now know the who, the what, the where, and the why. I am a 'bad man'.

Run

Submitted by Writer on Fri, 02/10/2017 - 14:35

Running, sweating, then running more. All my mind can think of is run, run as far and as fast as the strength of my legs could carry me. The street lights and full moon guid me through the empty trashfilled city. Keeping my eyes forward not daring to look back I start losing my breath with every step. I can hear the sirans piercing within my ears, I tried covering them at one point but the result was futile. Trees laid straight ahead and I took a bolting turn into the forest. My weak and tired body became heavier than I remember, I could hear the thump thump of my heartbeat through my ears.

Once or twice I tripped over small logs but was able to surprisingly continue to run. I never knew my body was capable of such movement for a long period of time. But I had my limits. Slowly, slowly, I start losing my energy. I can still hear the rustling steps of people behind me. With every slowing step I begin to lose hope. Hope in running away from my problems, running from the mistakes and regrets I've made. Step, pant, step, pant, step, step, pant pant. I stop. Tackled to the ground I taste the dirtfilled leaves and grass that get stuck in between my teeth. At this moment everything goes in slow motion even though in reality it went by shockingly fast. It's over. The running, the burning sensation in my legs, my tired eyes that squink with drousiness. It's over. The heartbeat that pounds my eyes, the sweat dripping down my back. It's over. But my mistakes and regrets will always linger, will always haunt me, they will never be over. 

Injustice

Submitted by Writer on Fri, 02/10/2017 - 14:35

I watched him walk down the street,

All insecure and scared. 

I started to follow behind him, 

He looked back and saw my glare. 

He started to walk faster and faster.

Trying to escape my future feat, 

He turned into an ally running, 

Unknowing,

Where he was going. 

Cornering himself, 

He tried to run but before he slipped,

I caught his gut with my knife, 

I so gracfully,

I so quickly, 

Pulled from my holster. 

It dripped with bright red blood onto the ground,

Creating a bland brown color, 

As it mixed with dirt and rain. 

The pungent odor of week old garbage filled my nose, 

As I threw the body in the dumpster. 

I turned the corner I saw a friend.

"Hello officer" he says to me,

And I continued to walk as I tipped the brim of my cap to the ground,

With a smile of kindnes and saftey.

Bad luck

Submitted by Writer on Fri, 02/10/2017 - 14:30

     That's how it all ended. What ended you may ask? My career. My friendship. The world as we know it. I had it all fame, money, and the best friend in the whole wide world. Well like I said I had it, now it's just me.                                                                                                                  Let me take you back to the simpler times, when I first started out. I was a 13 year old girl with a big dream and a rich family. So I had an advantage. I was discovered at a young age to be a singer. By the time I was 16 I had it all, the tours and the screaming fans. Life was good. My best friend came with me on almost every tour and show. She was not famous and she was okay with that. Her name was Malia, she was perfect. She was supportive and kept me in line. My life was amazing and perfect, well almost.                                                                                            I had been in the industry for about three years now and I was having a bit of trouble with the management I was with. They were paying me less than I should be making and they won't let me collab yet. I feel that as an artist I should be able to collab and be creative. They didn't see that. So I talked to my mom who was in charge of everything I do and say about what I could do. She totally disagreed with me and she said I was being ridiculous. I knew that I wasn't and I was going to do something about it, so I did. I asked Malia if she was on board but she thought it was to risky. I again didn't agree and got upset. I said things that I didn't mean and did some regretful things that night.                                          First thing stop on the regret train, management's office. I took an Uber to the office, originally to tell them my thoughts. That didn't go as planned. I got there and there was a big meeting talking about cuts and things they had to do to produce more money. At the time I didn't know what the meeting was about. So I barged and demanded for a raise in pay and to have more creative rights. That did not go well not only was I escourted out of the building I was kicked out of the management. That meeting was to help me and I blew it. They were going to make cuts so they could pay me more and to fund collabs. There I was ruining it, and my career.                                                                                                  Word got out fast and soon no one would take me for their labels. My fans died down and Malia was mad at me. Next stop my fight with Malia that night when i told her what I did. Again things did not go well. Last stop the fight I had with my Mom. I can't even talk about the way my Mom looked at me. Soon I became a has been, not a will be. I was forgotten, people move on. The only good thing about this is that it is completely made up and untrue.

Bad luck

Submitted by Writer on Fri, 02/10/2017 - 14:28

     That's how it all ended. What ended you may ask? My career. My friendship. The world as we know it. I had it all fame, money, and the best friend in the whole wide world. Well like I said I had it, now it's just me.                                                                                                                  Let me take you back to the simpler times, when I first started out. I was a 13 year old girl with a big dream and a rich family. So I had an advantage. I was discovered at a young age to be a singer. By the time I was 16 I had it all, the tours and the screaming fans. Life was good. My best friend came with me on almost every tour and show. She was not famous and she was okay with that. Her name was Malia, she was perfect. She was supportive and kept me in line. My life was amazing and perfect, well almost.                                                                                            I had been in the industry for about three years now and I was having a bit of trouble with the management I was with. They were paying me less than I should be making and they won't let me collab yet. I feel that as an artist I should be able to collab and be creative. They didn't see that. So I talked to my mom who was in charge of everything I do and say about what I could do. She totally disagreed with me and she said I was being ridiculous. I knew that I wasn't and I was going to do something about it, so I did. I asked Malia if she was on board but she thought it was to risky. I again didn't agree and got upset. I said things that I didn't mean and did some regretful things that night.                                          First thing stop on the regret train, management's office. I took an Uber to the office, originally to tell them my thoughts. That didn't go as planned. I got there and there was a big meeting talking about cuts and things they had to do to produce more money. At the time I didn't know what the meeting was about. So I barged and demanded for a raise in pay and to have more creative rights. That did not go well not only was I escourted out of the building I was kicked out of the management. That meeting was to help me and I blew it. They were going to make cuts so they could pay me more and to fund collabs. There I was ruining it, and my career.                                                                                                  Word got out fast and soon no one would take me for their labels. My fans died down and Malia was mad at me. Next stop my fight with Malia that night when i told her what I did. Again things did not go well. Last stop the fight I had with my Mom. I can't even talk about the way my Mom looked at me. Soon I became a has been, not a will be. I was forgotten, people move on. The only good thing about this is that it is completely made up and untrue.

Draco Malfoy, the boy who had no choice

Submitted by Writer on Fri, 02/10/2017 - 14:28

If you know me, you have probably heard people say that I am "The Boy who Made All the Wrong Choices." The truth is that I am "The Boy Who Had No Choice." Here is my story.

I was born in a wizarding world, in London, England. My parents are Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy. We live in our home/mansion called Malfoy Manor. My parents have been connected to The Dark Lord, ever since I was born so I have been raised to respect the ways that he believes. My parents raised me to hate people with different blood status that my family, so Half Blooded witches and wizards, or muggle borns/mudbloods as I call them. 

When I turned 11, I got my Hogwarts letter. I knew I would get it because my parents were both powerful wizards when they went. I was a little scared at first, but my parents told me that two of my friends were also going. Ever since my family has joined the supporters of the Dark Lord, we have had oher supporters come over to our Manor. Two of those happened to have sons who were the same age as me, and also would be attending Hogwarts. Those people were Crabbe and Goyle.

When it was my first year of Hogwarts, I got sorted into Slytherin. It was not that much of a suprise, because my family has had decades of people who had gotton Slytherin too. My friends also got into that house too which was also not a suprise. Over that year, I made a few more friends named Theodore Nott and Blaise Zabini. I also had made an enemy. Harry Potter. He had not accepted my handshake the day I asked him to be my friend. I got really shocked, but after a while, I was glad he said no. He had gotton very arrogant towards me and the other Slytherins.

The next few years passed, and not that much stuff happened until the end of the fifth year. Over the summer, my parents gave me what they called "Good news." They told me that the Dark Lord had a task for me to perform for my sixth year at Hogwarts. The task was to mend the vanishing cabinet and kill Dumbledore, the headmaster at Hogwarts. 

Over the sixth year, I heard that Blaise and Theodore had also been chosen like me to join the Dark Lord. They had secretly been helping me over our time at school during some classes that we skipped, and times like during meals, and during periods we had off. Some Slytherins were worried about us, because of how much we have been skipping. We finally fixed the cabinet once we came back from Christmas break. Harry was pretty suspicious even after the duel we had. 

After Snape had killed Dumbledore but then got killed by the Dark Lord, the battle of Hogwarts had started. I did not attend my last year of Hogwarts that year because of all the chaos. During the battle, I had finally decided that I do not have to follow in the footsteps that my father put for me. I decided to do my life my own way. I joined the other side to fight on, but my parents just told me to come over to their side. 

I really didn't want to, but had to. I went over to their side and left the war before any of us could get hurt. In the end, after I got married, I did not force the same beliefs that my father did on my towards my son, Scorpius. He ended up becomeing friends with a Potter actually. This was my life, as Draco Malfoy.

Not my fault...

Submitted by Writer on Fri, 02/10/2017 - 14:27

It wasn't my fault. Wasn't my fault I'm the bad guy. Not my fault I killed all those people. Made my family's life a living nightmare. Made my city hate me. Made everyone hate me. I used too be a good, average citizen. Used to go to the bakery and grab myself a bagle, like an ordinary person. However, once you try something bad.... you're  reputation turns around. One second you're an average citizen... next second, you're the villian of everyone's life. All I did was get in a fight, but the fight turned aweful. It was 11 pm. I was getting home to my family from a rough day at work. I wasn't in a great mood. 

"I'm home" I said, groggily.

No one answered. I sighed and plopped myself down on the couch. To my surprise my parents came in and glared at me. 

"What is this Daniel?" my mother said.

She dropped a gun on the coffee table in front of me. I sat up and groaned.

"It's for protection mother" I said rubbing my eyes, why can't they just stop butting into my life.

Dad lost.

Submitted by Writer on Fri, 02/10/2017 - 14:27

In storys there also a bad guy a bully, thief, villain, well in my story thats me. I'm not a bully I'm actually highly liked, I'm popular, jock, perfect girlfriend, perfect family, tons of money, well, life is not perfect when you had a family that did not want you. I was at the age of 6 and my dad dropped me of at the high way and left. That can change someone, it sure did change me. Everyone thinks Ethan Wills has it good but I dont, know one will ever know how I feel, no one will ever feel like a black hole inside your stomach because your dad did not want you and he dropped you off on the highway saying "Be right back Kidd-o, gotta make a quick stop." but they never come back and you stay there for days and when you see the car that you thought was your dads car but it was not.  

The "Bad" Girl

Submitted by Writer on Fri, 02/10/2017 - 14:27

I wish people knew that I'm not a terrible person. I wish that one thing I did didn't define me. Now I'm labeled as the bad girl. I'm not saying what I did was the best thing to do but if you were in my shoes what would you have done. Lets get into it. My family is extremely poor. My dad left when I was little which left my mother devistated and eventually grew to her becoming really sick. I also had three younger siblings. Triplets. They were only three at the time so they didn't have a clue of what's going on. So essentially I was the backbone of this family. I had to get a job to pay the bills, put food on the table, and get my mom medical help for her illness. On top of all that I was a junior in high school and was determined to finish school and become successful, but at this point I wasn't so sure about that anymore. One night I was really stressed about everything and that particular night we hadn't had much for dinner and we were hungry. I had no more money from my job at all. So I grabbed my jacket and left. I wasn't quite sure where I was going but eventually I ended up at a little convienient store on a corner that had a small deli. 

being bad

Submitted by Writer on Fri, 02/10/2017 - 14:26

I wasn't alway this bad. I used to be a good kid who got decent grade who stayed out of trouble. Until I figured out that being good sometimes doesn't do you any good. But when you are bad you don't have to listen to other people. It like being an outlaw who does what he or she want when they want. 

Bad Story

Submitted by Writer on Fri, 02/10/2017 - 14:19

   Bryan, a 19 year old from Fair Haven, Vermont was at his house. He was getting ready to see his dad at his workplace in a chemical producing factory. He hadn’t seen his dad in 2 years since his parents got divorced and he never talked to his son. He only found out today that he was in New York.

 

    Bryan drove to Manhattan, New York. He made it to the factory his dad worked at. Bryan was bullied at school so he bullied others in game and in real life. He was depressed. His dad greeted him and hugged him and asked normal things like how he’s been and how old he was since he hadn’t seen him in 2 years after he moved out of the house. His dad showed him around the workplace. There were a lot toxins in giant pool-like containers. As his father showed him his office, Bryan walked off to look around more saying he’d be back. Harmful toxins used to create bleach were in one the containers. He fell into it after slipping on paper left on the ground by an employe. He fell into the toxins and started drowning. His skin melted. His parents never taught him how to swim. He was always scared of the water. The pools of toxins was large. It was enough to create 1,000 bottles of bleach. His dad called out and looked for him.

    His father found him floating in the toxins and called the hospital. They came and said there was no way to save him. He was poisoned. He was dead. He took to much. The next week. He was in a coffin. He was buried. Skin burned off. Dried blood. The next day, he woke up. He was burned. He was still alive. He was underground. He tried to pry open the coffin. He made it out and was covered in dirt. He pushed his way through. He was 4 feet under the ground and made it out. He was like a zombie. They thought he was dead. He had no pulse. He still had no pulse. And now that he was dead. He couldn’t die again. The toxins got to his head. Made him mad than he was. He went off and destroyed multiple landmarks around the country. He was never seen again after he went to an island owned by the british. He may have died. But.. probably not.

Monsters of the Mind

Submitted by Writer on Fri, 02/10/2017 - 14:17

No one cares to ask where she comes from, even though she knows that they wonder. She turns and faces the empty wall and looks down at the tattered bed. This hotel sucks but it is better than the police station. Flashes of her childhood come into her head as she scans the small bedroom. Thoughts raced through her head again and this time they overwhelm her and she slowly sinks down to the ground. Tears cover her face and make her eager to take of her mask. Taking the mask into her tear stained hands, she discovered why she wears it. She remembers the dusty closet, and the key. The key was the worst part but she discards these thoughts, returning from her mindful journey. She sat down on the bed and leaning against the backboard, she closed her eyes. Once she did, though, her bad thoughts came back to her and she endured the pain of the memories, the dark, torturous memories. Is this why I chose this line of work? she thought. Do these memories really shape who I am today? Thoughts like these kept running through her mind as she submitted to the chains that pulled her down and down.

The Evil and Cruel Teachers

Submitted by Writer on Fri, 02/10/2017 - 14:16

In the book “Big Nate: IN A CLASS BY HIMSELF” the bad girl is is mrs.godfrey. How did she become the bad girl/guy. It is because she is a complete sociopath and really mean. What I mean by that is she will call you off on anything that is not right in her book. Literally she will automatically give you the worst possible punishment she can. Granted the main character in the book is pretty misbehaved but still, she is overly though. She also only picks on certain kids of her choice. That is pretty bad. The book does not say how she became mean.

 

 

The Unfortunate Day

Submitted by Writer on Fri, 02/10/2017 - 14:16

     It all started on a bright, sunny day. That was ironic, because it was the darkest day of my life. There wasn't wind that day, but my thoughts swirled around in my head as though they were in a force 5 hurricane. I had watched that strange man in a long, dark overcoat, with a slight bulge in his right pocket walk surreptitiously right up to our apartment's front door, through the long dark hallway. As a curious little guy, I tiptoed out our old, tattered, moldy door, and walked slowly around the corner leading to an apartment. The man I had saw had his ear to the door. A floorboard creaked. The man spun around…

chair bear

Submitted by Writer on Fri, 02/10/2017 - 14:16

 

 

What's your motivation?

Submitted by Writer on Fri, 02/10/2017 - 14:15

Everyone assumes that the bad guys grow up to be bad. People don't know that what motivated many criminals in this world is not from their own life, but rather from other's. It's 2020 and the world has many problems that they don't face head on. What if the bad people are actually doing good. Although it's not morally right to kill, attack, assualt someone. It depends on the person who is killed. There are many bad people in the world that get by without getting in trouble. Before you arrest or discriminate against someone, consider what there motivations were. Although many people might not realize it, most of the population is in debt, or extremely poor. Someone may steal form a bank, though that is not okay. They might have different motives. 

I'm the bad guy

Submitted by Writer on Fri, 02/10/2017 - 14:15

I'm the bad guy, or the bully, or whatever you want to call me, I'm mean, I'm bad, I'm the kid who everyone's afraid of, and that's what I like to be, I see people and I punch ‘em, but is that really my fault? I mean he is the one who got in the way of the punch. 

I wasn't always like this

Submitted by Writer on Fri, 02/10/2017 - 14:12

I wasn't always the “bad guy”. 
This is the thought that goes through my head as I look through the scope on my rifle. My target is in the sights. I was once a good guy, or the opposite of what I do know.
I fought to protect people from the organization I work for. Then I realized while protecting a client that this person deserved to die. These people I was protecting  were the people who walk around with thousands of dollars in their wallet. The people who could careless about the poor, the homeless, the refugees. I get were the “good guys” were coming from, no one deserves to die, right. 
     Well I disagree.

Expectations

Submitted by Writer on Fri, 02/10/2017 - 14:11

You do one thing my it just goes downhill from there. You say one word and your world comes collapsing down around you. You never wanted to be bad. Never wanted to be shunned, disrespected, and hated. You never wanted to be feared. It just happened.

You started changing how you acted. When everyone expects you to be a jerk, there's no point trying to be nice anymore. Frowns and glares have ten times the impact of a hesitant smile. When you're expected to be bad, you become bad, because the way everyone sees you becomes the way you see yourself. And the way you see the world becomes cold, and harsh, and you become cold and harsh too.

Sometimes you miss being loved, and hate being feared, but you can't go back. Nobody expects a bad guy to change, a bully to stop, or a villain to give up. What you think you are becomes clouded with who others think you are.  Cruelty is an illusion, but if you stare at an illusion long enough, it becomes a reality.

 

#select

Bad

Submitted by Writer on Fri, 02/10/2017 - 14:06

Have you ever wondered about how Count Olaf from
The Series Of unfortunate events turned evil? Well I
have and I am going to tell you the backstory. One day
as a little boy Olaf thought he could be an actor so he
started to join school plays. But their was just one thing
in his way, his father. His father wanted Olaf to be a
doctor or mechanic not an actor. But olaf did not listen
to his father and he joined a play and on show night his
father came. Now Olaf did not want his father to come
because he knew that his father would not approve.
After the show his father told him that he could no
longer live in his house if he were not going do as he
said. So Olaf went home and packed he looked his
father strait in the eye and said “ I knew you would not
support me.” and left ever since that day Olaf has tried
to prove his father wrong and he became and actor (a
horrible actor.) But made no money, so he went after
the baudelaire fortune. And that is how Count Olaf
became evil. All because his father did not believe in
him.

Last Year

Submitted by Writer on Fri, 02/10/2017 - 14:04

   I wasnt always a liar. But last year got to me. It was me and my best friend Ollie. Ollie and I where real close as best friends are but what he did was unforgetable.  We where at high school. My carrer of  becoming a famous writer was a dream and Ollie knew. What we both did was write about our lives and our selfves. One day I wrote a story of us and our crushes. Oliie was reading it and then a popular boy came. He took my notebook and the story in it. Ollie made a lie of me writing it and he got all the credit. I became a loser and the one bullied and Ollie became popular and kept sharing my stories. When I got all sick of bullied I did the badest thing anyone could do. I knew Ollie liked his hair so I removed it with hair remover.

Run Away

Submitted by Writer on Fri, 02/10/2017 - 14:04

   Racing through laws and jumping over fences with my heart pumping. Josh was running  away, hearing sirens behind him. He grabed the brown wooden fence and lifted him self over it. A  few more miles Josh, a few more miles. He heared barking getting closer and closer. SRINT faster Josh!!!! In the distance he saw the woods. Running with the last energy he got, he ran into the woods. It was dark and was hard to see where he was. Studenly and felt a tug on his shirt, the force pulled him back into a bush. "'What are you doing josh!!!" "Sorry ty, I stole from the store and few miles down the road." Breathing heavely, Josh looked at ty with worry in his eyes. :What are you think dumby." Josh could feel the angry from ty

They now call me Evil.

Submitted by Writer on Fri, 02/10/2017 - 14:03

On one gloomy, stormy winter day, I opened my eyes when the clock struck 5 am. I looked at my alarm, to its evil red letters that had always bothered me and threw it against the wall. My parents came up to my room, and I threw them out the window. My dog went down to the basement in fear, once looking at me with a wagging tail, now with a look of repugnace. I slammed all the doors with a grin, feeling an intense heat behind my eyes, in my head, through my body. I looked in the mirror. I was a red eyed, horned beast, with a smile so cringy I laughed. The mirror shattered. there was a note on my desk. "You have been gifted with powers the devil longs for. Welcome, because now you are one of us. You are the Evil." I gave a maniac smirk and agreed. For once, I was powerful, gifted, hairless, and beautiful.

This was 5 years ago. They now call me Evil.

#select