A few of our talented writers should have a creepypasta write off.

totally B A

Now, this is a story all about how
My life got flipped-turned upside down
And I liked to take a minute
Just sit right there
I'll tell you how I became the prince of a town called Bel Air

In west Philadelphia born and raised
On the playground was where I spent most of my days
Chillin' out maxin' relaxin' all cool
And all shootin some b-ball outside of the school
When a couple of guys
Who were up to no good
Startin making trouble in my neighborhood
I got in one little fight and my mom got scared
She said 'You're movin' with your auntie and uncle in Bel Air'

I begged and pleaded with her day after day
But she packed my suite case and send me on my way
She gave me a kiss and then she gave me my ticket.
I put my walkman on and said, 'I might as well kick it'.

First class, yo this is bad
Drinking orange juice out of a champagne glass.
Is this what the people of Bel-Air Living like?
Hmmmmm this might be alright.

But wait I hear there're prissy, wine all that
Is Bel-Air the type of place they send this cool cat?
I don't think sow
I'll see when I get there
I hope they're prepared for the prince of Bel-Air

Well, the plane landed and when I came out
There was a dude who looked like a cop standing there with my name out
I ain't trying to get arrested
I just got here
I sprang with the quickness like lightening, disappeared

I whistled for a cab and when it came near
The license plate said fresh and it had dice in the mirror
If anything I can say this cab is rare
But I thought 'Now forget it' - 'Yo homes to Bel Air'

I pulled up to the house about 7 or 8
And I yelled to the cabbie 'Yo homes smell ya later'
I looked at my kingdom
I was finally there
To sit on my throne as the Prince of Bel Air

I must say I do like the intro to "The Fresh Prince". It is super catchy!

Only I'm allowed to do that, Godot.

You know, I do still have that 'Soon' Creepypasta saved somewhere... I never finalized it because I wanted pictures to go along with that and I never got all the shots I wanted.

Sounds interesting... I would gladly enter the competition. We need more people though.

I do enjoy writing. I enjoy many art styles. Sadly I dont have enough patience to write something astonishing. Most of my stories are just me making up random fantasy storylines and not finishing any.
half are forgotten, half dont even deserve a second chance.
/shrug

Finished the introduction to the story, if you'd like to read it here:

The glistening flames waver as I walk through them. The fire repels out of my way. I look across the desolate dark field looking for any source of life. Nothing moves... The regret sinks into this post apocalyptic world as I fall to my knees. Not a trace of my family is left, nothing to bury, nothing to hold – gone... Looking out at the rising sun, raging, resentful, and riled, I curse under my breath. My heart fills with revenge. My eyes start to water. I just want to yell, but I know it won't bring back the departed. I slowly get up, fist clenched, insanity sinking in. I start running in a random direction, hoping to get away from here. Stumbling over my own legs and tears I run – till I can't run anymore. I finally fall, my mind starts going blank. My parched throat seems to be filled with sand. It hurts to swallow. My eyes fading, I see the shadow of a figure standing over me with a frown of disapproval. I black out...

I wake up to the sound of running water and the sweet warm touch of a women's hands. However, I do not wonder where I am or who she is – I am too busy lost in my own memories. Still stricken by loss I can't help but regret everything. I hear her humming a happy tune, yet it doesn't change the mood of a solemn man. As I slowly and painfully lay up the humming stops. My still parched throat allows the smallest groan. She turns to face me with a smile so rare for these times I thought it was a dream. All that was interrupted by an older looking woman with a constant frown. I sat there quietly waiting for a chance to speak. I looked to the left and on a small oak table a cup of water stood paired with a bowl of soup and bread. Quickly taking up the water I drank it, making sure not a drop touched the ground. Again, the humming resumed as I ate the warm chunky soup and took small bites of my toasted bread. I finally let out a word of thanks, the older woman gave a simple nod while the young lady gave a full curtsy. Strolling outside, I took a deep breath. The area was grey and mundane, but there was a small exception. A bushel of white flowers lay directly in front of the house. I looked at them with curiosity for it was the second time I had seen these white flowers. Walking back into the house I felt calm. No more anguish resonated in my eyes or came to mind. I felt free of my grievances. I decided to tell the young girl my story... the story of how I was saved by a smile and a flower.

Wrote Something New:

Title:

The coup d'état had ended in failure – there was no back up plan, no instructions, no way to have been prepared for its catastrophic failure. Everyone was in panic. No one could believe the plan of three years yielded no results. The German government still stood proudly while the French laid in there own pitiful ashes... as they had been for the last four years. No help would come from from Russia nor the United States, we were alone – alone in our failures, alone in our victories, and alone in death. "Sieg für die Heimat!" (Victory for Germany!) I heard the crowds chant over and over again. The newsman also letting out a small joking roar in support. I couldn't stand the cheering for our loss, it made my face to turn red, my teeth grind, and my hatred for the country grow. Immediately I reached for the remote to shut off the TV. Leaning back I lit a cigarette. Feeling hopeless and lost I got up and paced back and forth. An answer was not coming to mind. I was one of the few Germans who still disowned this second world war. My associates and I still paced hoping for someone who thought about a back up plan. The Gestapo would be here any minute to take away our lives. All hope was given up on.

Yeah, usually i enjoy writing stories, all i think that depends it the topic im thinking of, if i don't like the topic it wont be a good story.

I love writing about things that interest me. My journal assignments for my writing class are almost always Zelda related.

I used to do that all the time! My school work would be related to things I liked every time I had the chance. Games like Zelda, Final Fantasy, Kingdom Hearts (Amazing Game), etc.

I got bored and started to write a Walking Dead fanfiction thing during English once (I'm a good boy and finished my assessment two weeks or so early, as well as the extension work I was given). I don't know where it went though, I think I threw out last year's school books.

I was tempted to share a short story I did write for school where we were given a scenario (landed on an alien planet), but I can't find my books so I can't, sadly. I won a short story competition with it (but that doesn't really say much, as I'm in my first year of High School [Australian schooling system]).

I get straight C's for writing