My new story: Date with a Vampire

hi guys i decided i wanted to write a book and as i keep posting new chapters every day or about every day lol (laugh out loud) i would like u to comment my story to see if u like what iv done or give me a few ideas on what the next chapter should have in it.

title of book: date with a vampire

Charter1: little monster

it first happened when i was five. i had just finished coloring in my kindergarten book. it was filed with Picasso-like drawings of my mom and dad, an Elmer's-glued, tissuse papered collage, and the answers to questions (favorite color, pets, best friend, etc.) writtien down by our hundred year old teacher, Mrs. Peevish.

my classmates and i were sitting in a semi-circle on the floor in the reading area. "Bradley, what do u want to be when u grow up?" Mrs. pevish ask after all the other questionshad been answered.
"a fire fighter!" he shouted.
Cindi?"
"uh... a nurse," Cindi Warren whispered meekly.
Mrs. Peevish went through the rest of the class. Police officers, Astronauts, Football players. Finally it was my turn.
"Raven, what do u want to be when u grow up?" Mrs. Peevish asked, her green eyes staring through me.
i said nothing
"an actress?"
i shook my head.
"a doctor?"
Nuh, uh" i said
"a flight attendant?"
"yuck!" i replied
"then what?" she asked annoyed.
i thought for a moment. " i want to be..."
"yes?"
"i want to be... a vampire!" i shouted, to the shock and amazement of Mrs. Peevish and my classmates. For a moment i thought she started to laugh; maybe she really did. the children sitting next me inched away.
i spent most of my childhood life watching others inch away.

I was concieved on my dad's water bed-or on the rooftop of my mom's collede dorm under twinkling stars- depending on which one of my parents is telling the story. they were soul mates that couldnt part with the seventies; true love mixed with drugs, some rasberry incense, and the music of te greatful dead. a beaded footed girl, intertwined with a long-haired, leather-vested, bell-bottomed-and-sandaled guy. i think they're lucky i wasnt more eccentric. i could have want to be a beaded-haired hippie werewolf! but somehow i became obsessed with vampires.
Sarah and paul madison became more responible after my enterance into this world-or ill rephase it and say my parents were "less glassy eyed." hey sild the volkswagen flower power van that they were living in and actually started renting property. our hippie apartment was decorated with 3-D glow-in-the-dark flower powers and orange tubes with a play-doh substance tha tmoved on its own-lava lamps- that you could star at forever. it was the best time ever. the three of us laughed and played chutes and ladders and squeezed twinkies betwwen our teeth. we stayed up late, watching dracula movies, and batman on a black-an-white TV we'd received when we opened a bank account. i felt secure under the blankets of midnight, rubbing mom's growing belly, which made noises like the orange lava lamps. i figured she was going to give birth to more moving play-doh.
everything changed when she gave birth to play-doh. only it wasnt play-doh. she gave birth to nerd boy! How could she? how cound she destroy all the twikie nights? how she went to bed early, and that creation that my parents called "Billy" cried and fussed all night, u was suddenly alone. it was dracula - the dracula on tv-that kept me company while mom slept, nerd boy wailed, and dad changed smelly diapers in th edarkness.
and if that wasnt bad enough, suddenly sent me to a place that wsnt my apartment that didnt have 3-d flower posters on the walls. who decorates around here? i woundered. it ws overcrowed with sears catalog girls in frilly dresses adn perfectly combed hair. mom and dad called it "kindergaren"
"they'll be your friends," my mom reassued me, as i clung to her side for dear life. she waved good-bye and blew me kisses as i stood alonebeside th ematronly Mrs. Peevish, which was as alone as one can get. i watched my mom walkaway with nerd boy on her hip.
I was glad to see nerb boy when mom finally came to pick me up. that night i stayed up late with my lips pressed against the tv screen, trying to kiss Christooher lee in horror of dracula.
"Raven! waht r u doing up so late? you have school tomorrow!" mom yelled.
"What?" i said. the hostess cherry pie that i had been eating fell to the floor, and my heart fell with it.
"But i thought that was just a one thing? i said, panicked.
"Sweet raven. u have to go every day!"
everyday? the words echoed inside my head. it was a life time sentence!

we were on the playground, standing by the basketball hoop, when i pinched the skin of trevor mitchell's punny little arm si hard u thought blood would squirt out. his face turned beet red. i stood motionless and waited. Tevor's body trembled with anger and his eyes sweeled with veneance as i mischievously smiled back. then he left his dental impression in my expectant hand. Mrs. Peevish was forced to sit him agianst the wall, and i happily danced around waiting to transform into a vamire bat.
"that raven is an odd one," i overhear mrs. peevishsaying to another teacher as i skipped past the crying trevor.







that was the beginning of the story im writing hope u enjoyed it and the 2nd chapter will be written tomorrow. feel free to leave comments and ideas for or about the story

That's very cute. There are a few spelling errors here and there, but the story itself is really good.

ya i was typing fast and some mistakes i didnt realize ill try my best to not make any mistakes on the next chaper

Very nice little story. I look forward to reading more.

Chapter 2: Dullsville


The official welcome sign to my town should read, "welcome to Dullsville- bigger than a cave, but small enoght to feel claustrophobic!"
A population of 8000 look-alikes, a weather forcast that's perfectly miserable all year round-sunny-fenced in cookie-cutter houses, and sprawling farmland- that's Dullsville. The 8:10 frieght train that runs through town separates the wrong side of the traks from the right side, the cornfields from the golf course, the tractors form the golf carts. I think the town has it backward. How can land that grows corn and wheat be worth less than land filled with sand traps?
The hundred-year-old courthouse sits on the town square. I haven't gotten into enough trouble to be gragged there-yet. Boutiques, a travle agent, a computer store, a florist, and a second-run movie theather all sits happily around the square.
I wish our house could lie on the railroad tracks, on wheels, and carry us out of town, but we're on the right side near the country club. Dullsville. The only exiting place is an abandoned mansion and exiled baroness built on top of Benson Hill, where she died in isolation.
I have only one friend in Dullsville- a farm girl, Becky Miller, who is more unpopular than i am. I was in third grade when I officially met her. Sitting on the school steps waiting fo rmy mom to pic me up (late as usual) now that she was trying to be a Corporate Cathy, I noticed an impish girl cowering at the bottom of the steps, crying like a baby. she was one of the few farm girls in our school and sat two rows behind me in class.
"What's Wrong?" I asked, feeling sorry for her.
"My mom forgot me!" she hollered, her hands covering her pathetic, wet face.
"No, she didnt," i consoled.
"She never is late!" she cried.
"Maybe she's stuck in traffic."
"You think so?"
"Sure! Or maybe she got a call from one of those nosey sales people that always asks 'Is your mother home?'
"Really?"
"Happens all the time."
And sure enough, a blue pickup drove up with one apologetic mother and a friendly sheepdog.
"My mom says you can come over Saturday if it's okay with your parents," Becky said, running back to me.
No one had ever invited me to their housebefore. I wasn't shy like Becky bu ti was just as unpopular.
Becky had a backyard as big as Tranylvania-a great place to hide and play monsters and eat all the fresh apples a growling third-grade stomach could hold. I was the only kid in our class who didn't beat her up, exclud her, or call her names, and i even tried to kick anyone who tried. I was her best friend and her bodyguard. And still am.

When i wasn't playing with Becky, i spent my time applying black lipstick and nail polis, scuffing my already worn combat boots, and burying my head behind Anne Rice novels.





Chapter three Monter Mash will be posted tomorrow. hope you enjoyed the senond chaper. please coment my story. thank you

im sorry but i wont be posting anymore till i learn not to text talk. once i learn ill write the other chapters that i have already written. i just dont want to get banned from this channel

it doesn't look like text talk just spelling mistakes just take your time when your writing. p.s i'm looking forward to the rest of your story

Andrew
There is text talk within her post.

ya in the first one but not the secong one

Chapter 3


My sweet sixteenth birthday. Shouldn't all birthdays be sweet? why should sixteen be any sweeter?it seems like a lot of hype to me!
in Dullsville, they celebrate today, my sixteenth birthday, as any other day.
it all started with nerd boy's shouting at me. "get up, raven. you dont want to be late. its time for school."
how could two kids come from the same parents and be so diffrent? maybe there is something to that theory about mailman. but in nerb boy's case my mother must have had an affair with the librarian.
i dragged myself out of bed and put on a black, cotton sleeveless dress and black hiking boots, and outlined my full lips with black lipstick.
two white-flowered cakes, one in the shape of a 1 and the other in the shape of a 6, awaited me on the kitchen table.
i grazed the 6 cake with my index finger and licked the icing off.
"happy birthday!" my mom said, kissing me. "that's for tonight, but youu can have this now," she said handing me a package.
"happy birthday rave," my dad said, also giving me a kiss as i held the package.
"i bet you have no idea what you're giving me,"i teased.
"no but i bet it cost a lot."
i shook the light package in my hand and heard a rattle. i stared at the happy birthday wrapping. it could be the keys to a car-my very own batmobile! after all, it was my sixteenth birthday.
i ripped the package open excitedly and lifted the jewelry box lid. a string of shiny white pearls stared back at me.
just then the doorbell rang and becky came in.
"guess what! i saw a moving van last night outside the mansion!" she whispered.
"no way someone finally moved in?"
"guess so. but all i saw were the movers carrying in oak desks, grandfather clocks, and huge crates marked "soil." and they have a teenage son."
just then we walked to becky's truck and drove to school.
becky and i giggled as we went to the bleachers where the class was waiting.
trevor mitchell, my kindergarden nemises and his shuffling sidekick, matt wells, followed us. they were perfectly combed, conservative, rich soccer snobs. they knew they were great looking, and it made me sick that they were so cocky.
"sweet sixteen!" trevor said, obviously having overheard my chat with mr. harris. "how lovely! just ripe for love, don't you think, matt?" they were close on our heels.
"yeah, dude," matt agreed.
"but maybe there's a reason she doesn't wear white- white is for virgins,right,raven?"
he was gorgeous, no doubt about it. his blue eyes were beautiful, and his hair looked as perfect as a model's. he had a girl for every day of the week. he was a bad boy but he was a rich bad boy, which made him very boring.
"so how are you spending your birthday?" trevor shouted, sitting with the rest of the class, loud enough for everyone to hear. "you and farmer becky sitting home on a frieday night, watching friday the thirteenth? maybe placing some personal ads? 'sixteen-year-old single white monter girl seeks mate to bond with for eternity.'"
the whole class laughed.
"no we were planning to crash matt's party tonight. otherwise there wont be anyone interesting there."
the while class was shocked and waited for trevor's reaction.
"sure you and Igor can come... but remember we drink beer not blood!" the whole class laughed again and trevor high-fived matt.
"we cant go to matt's party," becky said."who knows what they'll do to us?"
"we'll see what they do. or what we'll do. it's my sweet sixteenth, remember? a birthday to never forget!"






thanks the next chapter will be called truth or scare. hope that you enjoy

oh ya i forgot the title of chapter 3 is monster mash

NightVamp
You must be reading Vampire Kisses.

I haven't read the entire thing, but after reading the first few sentences I realized you have been copying from Vampire kisses. I have read almost the entire series and I would reconize the story anywhere. Copying something from someone else's work is playgorism, not to mention you are claiming it as your own work, that's illegal. I wouldn't recomend doing it anymore.

I shall look into this claim of plaigarism.

~moved~