An Untitled Story of An Untitled Person's Untitled Life

SOMEONE, PLEASE GO TO SHORT STORY BLOG!!! You don't have to read Part 1, I put so much info on the new post.

I am attempting a horror story!!! With stolen ideas from this creepy story I once read! Yay!!!!

Once upon an untitled time, there was an untitled girl that was named Untitled. She lived an untitled story and lived an untitled life. One untitled day, she met a boy named Titled. They fell in love with a hint of both untitled-ness and title-ness, and had a baby named Utitle. He had no face, for some untitled reason. And so, this titled boy who's face was tragically missing an untitled, died, for he could not eat. The end.

Nonono!! That has got to be the worst story ever written! (smacks self)

I'm gonna try writing something serious for once with excess detail and little dialogue, but still rich in story, plot, and character! =D Yay!

Since little people have bothered to go to Short Story Blog, I will write a Short Story here, in hopes of attracting readers to go to it. I will make it serious, although most of my stories are humorous, and possibly comical.

I dedicate this story to Nixx! For no reason at all, just because I am randomly kind at this moment and feel like dedicating something to somebody!!! Yay Nixx!

Lettuce begin!!! (random moods like this are the best times to write a SERIOUS story)

AHEM!!!

I pushed a red strand of my hair away from my face, looking at the ground nervously, scuffing my ankle-high leather boots and leaving a slight scratch to the otherwise perfect teal marble floor with my stilettos.
I had not yet known what in the world I had done, but I anticipated greatly the moment in which I would find out. I rested my elbows on my mid thigh, and laid my chin on my hands pensively.
I looked at him intensely, and his face barely hinted a smile at all. His eyes were passively intriguing, the type you would adore gazing into, the type you wouldn't mind drowning in. He glanced at my lazily, and I gripped the carefully carved wooden chair so hard my knuckles turned white.
He turned away and my grip loosened slightly, and I sat up and rubbed my hand upon my elbow, yet all the while fidgeting with my right hand with my pleated skirt.
I stood up noiselessly, and I gave him what looked like an almost benignly smile. He did the same, but with a lot more of a genuine smile. He lifted his hand gently and wiggled his fingers, and I locked my arm around his and rested my head upon his shoulder gently.
I closed my eyes and smiled slightly, and sighed contently. It was then that he let go of me, turning away and standing next to the mahogany table, missing my miffed, if not offended, look. He came back seconds later, with a palpable smile hidden in what he appeared to be shown as a non-interested frown. He held two packets of paper, both possessed the big and bold words in a Times New Roman font, GRACELING. (tm, not my title, real book, read it it's very good)
"Nimeton?" He said breezily, handing me a copy of the plays' script.
I blinked at him before nodding and taking it, my voice hoarse and rusty from speaking too much. I opened my mouth to read the first words from my assigned character.
"A quarter hour, no more."
He lifted his eyebrows, looking unimpressed. I tried again with an English tinge,
"A quarter hour, no more." I looked up again, and seeing that he was looking back down at the script I continued.
"I can do it in the time allotted." His eyebrows raised again, and I sighed, scuffing my boots once again.

THE END. LOL. This is why I don't do series stories. XP There was absolutely NO point at all in that story. =P I can stuck in details and forget everything. This was my worst work, I swear!!!

Now go to Short Story Blog for even better stories!!!

XD