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Paranormal

HARLAN by David Whitman

By David Whitman

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The word fuck has to be used in every sentence. I think you can go to jail if you don't use it. '" By this time, even Vlad was laughing. Julian loved an audience so he just kept going. " I asked, joining in. "You know, like intercourse? " "Of course you do," Julian said, pulling into to the crowded parking lot. " The restaurant was called Danko's and it looked exactly like the kind of place that we would never leave alive. Neon lights were flashing the town's favorite beer at us, the light reflecting off the windshield of the Mustang.

My brother here stole my car and his little makeup-wearing friend there attacked me. So, if you'll just leave us be we'll be on our way, okay, Mr. " Blood splattered my glasses, shooting from Ross's nose after the leather-clad man pumped his fist into Ross's face. It was instantaneous, almost like lightning. He hit Ross and Ross fell to the floor. That was it. Mr. Faggot apparently knew how to throw a punch. Bart and Biff immediately turned and headed for the door, their confidence deserting them about the same time Ross hit the floor.

As I looked at Mr. Peterson, his fat sweaty lips almost dripping as he spoke, I could feel the Screamer clawing to get out. Tick Tick Tick. Just explode out of me and pounce on him, ripping him into bloody pieces. Tick Tick Tick. I felt like I was going to detonate. I felt like a bomb. And then I said it, the thing that got me a week's detention, "Mr. " Mr. Peterson smiled, his smug face thinking that he finally got through to this bright young man. " I shrieked. As I let go, the whole school seemed to come to a standstill.

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