Part 4

Not exactly knowing what to do next, I felt as though I looked defeated. Hopeless. Angelica took great pleasure in this. I could see it in her eyes. The way they gleamed as she looked at the box I was slowly letting go of. But my friends always did say that I was an excellent actress. Just as I was about to give her the box, I held it to my chest with all of the force I could exsert, turned around, and broke into a run. James seem confused by this at first, but be soon caught on. I think. We were both running through the forrest, avoiding the ever present twigs and branches. I looked back to see that my sister, even though she was dead, was catching up to us. I knew what she wanted was in my hands. I tried to remember her. She had run away from the orphanage. Wait, no she died of Lupus. I remember her getting buried, right? God, I couldn't even remember my own sister. I stopped at a tree to catch my breath. From the look on James's face, I could tell he couldn't remember Angelica either. The memories with her seemed familiar, but at the same time, they seemed fake. Like watching a movie of someone else's life.
"Come on! We have to keep running!" James said while panting. Then the dots fit together.
"Who are you?"I asked Angelica slowly backing from the tree. James putting together the dots aswel, also backed away.
"Why it's me, dear sister,"Angelica said coming towards us.
"No your not. We don't even know who you are,"James said with disgust to the young creature.
"Good heavens! It took you two long enough."

Part 3

"What? Not used to seeing the assumed-dead yet?" The girl asked, her voice dripping with sarcastic apology.
"You're dead," I managed to stutter. "You died before Mom and Dad even did!"
"Wrong!" She snarled.
"You did die, I'm positive," James said, somwhat unsure. "We attended your funeral. Your body was in the coffin, Angelica." I shuddered at her name. I never had liked my bratty little sister, but seeing this...thing of her was even worse. It made me clutch the ancient shoebox even harder, until the cardboard started to cave in ymy hands.
"What's in the box?" Angelica asked, her blue eyes sparkling with raging curiousity. When neither of us answered, they grew darker. "Give me the box!"
I shook my head, in too much shock to even speak. The sister-thing stood from her rickity old rocking chair, and walked up to me, looking up into my eyes. She was a good four inches shorter than me. At least that much was normal- She was three years younger than me.
"Give. Me. The box." Her voice was quiet, like a whispy cloud. In a way, it held a strange beauty to it.
"Just give it to her," James urged from a few feet away. I bit my lip, worried. Should I give her what I had spent five years of my life protecting? Or was it worth dying for?

A/N- I wrote enough to give you a lead for part four. Your turn Libbie!

Updates and Apologies

So if you can't tell by the name of this post, this post is mostly about updates and apologies. This post will come to you in 4 parts.

Part 1:Updates
So, after some intense detective work (meaning about .01 seconds on google), we found out that there are about a bazillion blogs called Stories and Stuff sooo . . . we's gonna gets an new blog name! If you have any suggestions, please let us know in the comments.
Since I am one of the most self-centered person on the webbies (Libbie slang for Internet), I have notices that we have more people reading us in Russia than anywhere else. I think I'm going to name my favs Russian, Ruffled.
We realize that we haven't posted any bits for the story lately, that will soon be fixed by Jessica . . .
Yes, yes I do realize that it is 12:00 at night.

Part 2:Apologies
I am so very sorry for the unplanned hiatus, I swear we are not dead. Unless Jessica is a zombie. That would explain so much . . .
If you couldn't tell, I am an extremely sarcastic person and I say some sketchy stuff, but it is not meant to be offending to anyone.
I realize your jealousy, and am sorry that you can never reach the awesomeness of me. You know what they say, not my fault . . .

Part 3:Rules
So Jessica, I hope you are reading this because there are new rules being instated!
Rule 1)We, as a team, have to post at least 4 posts a week from Monday-Sunday.
Rule 2)Out of the (at least) 4 posts a week, 2 of them (one from me, one from you) must be towards the story.
Rule 3)If any rules are broken, you must have a punishment decided by someone.
The reason that I am posting this on the blog and not just sending this straight to you (Jessica) is so everyone knows what the new expectations are.

Part 4:Stuff
Sorry that this was kinda ramble-y and boring I promise that there will be a more interesting next time.
Jessica, the rules are enforced as of NOW.

...More 'Stuff' xD (I got tagged)

Rules

1. Post these rules.
2. Post a picture of yourself and 11 random things.
3. Answer the questions for you in the original post.

4. Create 11 new questions and tag people to answer them.

5. Go to their blog and tell them you've tagged them.

I think I've explained this question before.
1. What is the most annoying or worst slogan? 'Just do it.' Do WHAT?!
2. Are you a sociopath? No. Not quite.
3. What is your favorite color and why? Blue. Technically, we live in the big wide BLUE earth.
4. What is your favorite song with no words? Without words? Probably the Harry Potter theme song...
5. If you could meet any book/tv show/movie character, who would it be? Deryn Sharp. Most definately Deryn Sharp from Leviathan by Scott Westerfeld.
6. What are you doing right now? (other than answering these questions) If this is all you are doing, what did you do right before atempting these questions. Right now I'm watching TV.
7. What is your favorite word? Digress. Or austere.
8. What is your favorite city? (you don't have to have been there, and it can be fictional) Psh, easy. The Shire!
9. This might be a little early or you might have already had to anwer this question, but what would you name your kids? Evangeline and Aleksander.
10. Who is the hottest person who is dead? This question is NOT litteral. Dead person? Um....Hmm...Probably

<---That's Zane. He's dead now. Stupid nano pills.

11. What is your favorite book written before 1913? 'The Time Machine' by HG Wells.

And I'm gonna be a naughty lil girl and not tag anyone, ending this pshychotic rampage xD

I got tagged (Libbie edition)

Rules

1. Post these rules.
2. Post a picture of yourself and 11 random things.
3. Answer the questions for you in the original post.

4. Create 11 new questions and tag people to answer them.

5. Go to their blog and tell them you've tagged them.

Questions I Answered:

1. If there is one book/movie/TV show character that isn't the bad guy you could kill off, who would it be?
2. Who is the best singer you have ever heard live?
3. Fedora or party hat?
4. Do you believe that muffins are the inherit evil of dessert foods?
5. What's your favorite thing to do on a rainy day?
6. What is your favorite number, and why?
7. Who is the best villian/villianess character ever created?
8. What is the stupidest question you've ever been asked? (This question does not count.)
9. Do you believe there is such a thing as a dumb question (Maybe this one any number 8 should be switched...)
10. What's the most annoying grammatical error you hear when people speak?
11. What's your favorite accent?
Hey it's Libbie! Which one is she . . .

1.

I would not kill off any character, because that would change the whole story plot. Also, I am not a sociopath.

2.

Rascal Flatts

3.

Really? Could you make this any simpler?

4.

No! Cupcakes are just muffin's evil dopplegangers.

5.

Read, sleep, and do anything more dramaticly. Everything isbetter on a rainy day.

6.

Seven! Because it is 7

7.

Professor Moriarty

8.

Hey Libbie, what's your name?

9.

I donno. That question is way to deep.

10.

When people mix up was and were, and different tenses (past, prestent, future).

11.

Any accent from the British Isles or France. Sexy . . .

Questions You Should Answer:

1. What is the most annoying or worst slogan?
2. Are you a sociopath? (every 1 in 25 people are) See the picture below for help

3. What is your favorite color and why?
4. What is your favorite song with no words?
5. If you could meet any book/tv show/movie character, who would it be?
6. What are you doing right now? (other than answering these questions) If this is all you are doing, what did you do right before atempting these questions.
7. What is your favorite word?
8. What is your favorite city? (you don't have to have been there, and it can be fictional)
9. This might be a little early or you might have already had to anwer this question, but what would you name your kids?
10. Who is the hottest person who is dead? This question is NOT litteral.
11. What is your favorite book written before 1913?

Who Should Answer the Questions Next?
Jessica, my co-dictator
Jen, 'cause she sounds AWESOME
Abbey, just 'cause
and anyone else who is reading this
my fav Russian, yes you
anyone named Katharina

Just a quick update for you . . . um . . . people . . . We have been viewed by a Russian! Here is a letter to my favorite Russian:

Dear Russian,
I love you. You make me wanna sing to my blueberries. You stole my heart like you stole that diamond necklace in Paris. Cough, cough. (I swear that was NOT me. So yes. I will blame the Russian.) You make me wanna put on a top hat and dance. I love you almost as much as love purple blankets. And just in case you forgot, I love you.
I love you,
Libbie

Move right along now. If you cannot tell, this post falls under the category of  stuff as in Stories and Stuff. Quick question that has to do with the story Jess and I are working on. Do you think that the story should stay normal (meaning without magic, no paranormal activity-not the movie, elves, magic squirrels, etc., etc.) or go on the road to paranormal (with all of the stuff mention in the previous parenthesis)? Please leave a comment stating which way you personally think the story should go. I will take your comments into consideration, but remember this is a dictatorship, not a democracy.

You've been tagged!

Well, I couldn't just NOT....See my blog for details, Libbie. You know, since this is stories and 'stuff', I figured to include some stuff to sideline our stories. Cheerio!

Part 2 (We need to think of a title!)

The building was a small, simple thing, not unlike the fishing huts you might see in older textbooks on US History. Nonetheless, the sight of it made my stomach do back flips and my heart pound like a thunderstorm.
"Do you suppose that she'll be in there?" I whispered to my brother, almost scared to bring my voice above a whisper. The forest was a huge, foreboding place, and even the most idiotic and fearless man could be brought to his knees from the eeriness that reeked in this place.
"If she's not, then we were lied to," James pointed out, also keeping his words a soft trickle of a whisper. "And I'd prefer to think Mum and Dad never lied to us before they died." I nodded absently, recognizing his logic. Mum and Dad had never lied about anything- Not even when they lost their jobs and we were forced to hop from foster home to foster home. That was the last time we saw them, and the memory of their goodbye still brought tears to my eyes. They had slipped a letter in my suitcase right before the Social Services carted us off, and with a wave, they watched us ride away.
The next day we saw their faces on the news. 'Couple Brutally Murdered' the headline had yelled. Neither James nor I had been the same since.
"Hurry up, Sis," James snapped at me, breaking my focus from my past back to the present. I scurried to catch up with him, the shoebox tucked under my arm like a football.
When we reached the door, we stopped. Neither of us seemed to have it in us to open the door. We had spent the last five years of our lives hunting this down, and suddenly we realized we had no life to turn back to once this was done. We hadn't been in a civilized area in months, and even then, Mesquite, Minnesota barely counted as much more than a handful of old farts.
"Ready?" I asked lamely, glancing between my brother's face and the door knob.
"I suppose," he replied, taking the initiative and slowly pushing the door open. I stepped in, followed closely behind by James.
"Hello?" I called out softly, my gaze raking the room. It fell upon a young lady of maybe fourteen years. Her brunette hair was long and unkempt, and her eyes were glazed with malice. She smiled, and her teeth seemed sharp, like a wild beast.
"Hello, Brother. Hello, Sister. I've been expecting you." The girl spoke with a sickly sweet tone, and she stood from the chair she had been sitting upon.
  I held back the urge to gasp.
There was no way this could possibly be our runaway little sister.

Part 1

The forest was asleep. The midnight sky looked like black satin with its only relief being the moon, casting an erie light over the surrounding area. The only noise was coming from the breaking of sticks underfoot and the trees shivering in the wind. James and I were completely silent to each other. I couldn't tell if the silence was out of fear of the night or lack of things to say. The shoe box in my hands was starting to get heavy even though it only held paper and it seemed as though the forest held no edge when- "Scarlett," James said pointing to a small building in the middle of an upcoming clearing. That had to be it. Where else would it be? What I meant was that we were in the middle of a billion trees, how many buildings were scattered around? Part of me wanted to break into a run to finally reach what I thought was the final destination. That after all we had been through, James and I, we could be finally be safe with someone we were told to trust. I was so wrong.