English class sucks!

This poem is about my grade ten English class, enjoy!

English Hell

Walking in late to my grade ten English class

Is like being in a medieval prison torture scene.

You get the evil eye like you are the scum of the earth

It’s almost as if you had been caught in the middle of some horrible crime.

There is no understanding

No excuses, just persecution.

The stare from my teacher

Feels like a shot in the solar-plexus.

It almost burns through you

The stare, turns your legs to rubber

You feel like sitting down, or running away.

English class is like hell!

Kandraken Chapter Three Teaser

Here is the teaser for chapter three of my novel Kandraken. {To read, highlight the text in between the two red parentheses}

{Peter woke from his restless sleep, being plagued with dreams all night was a pain in the ass. His eyes still stung from the tears he shed. Nevertheless Peter needed to get to the Chow Manor ASAP. He stood up off the bedroll, and he caught an image of himself out of the corner of his eye in the jagged, dirty mirror he had propped up opposite the bedroll. His long, strait, bright silver hair had fallen in front of his eyes, He pulled it back into a pony tail and secured it with magic. He looked at his body that, after years of training, had become lean, strong and muscular. He was also taller than most teenagers his age, at about six feet, seven inches tall he towered over everyone!}

Josh Kennedy

Waring!

This story contains explicit content, anyone who might be squeemish DO NOT READ THIS. If you enjoy a little gore and saddness then read on.

YOU WERE WARNED!
Because of this I have made the story in white text, if you want to read it, highlight in between the brakkets!

{Josh Kennedy had heard the screams of his neighbor’s daughter for the stress filled week that he had moved there. He didn’t understand why everyone was so scared to go to the social services, or maybe it was the fact that nobody cared. Her dad was the ugly pimple on the on the face of the neighborhood. He was an abusive alcoholic jerk. Who ran his wife out of their home, when his wife left he turned to his daughter to beat on. Many people in the neighborhood partially blame the wife for abandoning her daughter with that horrible man. Josh being a man of 30 years knew about the horrible sins that were committed in the world daily. He was planning on going to the government about this case of abuse after his move was finalized. However he did not get that chance.
Josh was out in his garage unpacking when he heard a scream from his neighbors house. The scream he could tell was laced with pure terror and immense pain. Josh had had enough he was going to go over to his neighbors house, he was going to take that jackass down for beating his daughter. However, he never got the chance, because as soon as he made the decision the girl, the jackass’ daughter came out of the side door, half crawling her way down the steps. Josh went and hopped the four foot fence that separated the two yards. She looked very light, thin and petite. He could guess that her dad hadn’t been letting her eat. Her eyes were closed as if she was sleeping, but she was knocked out. Only then did he notice the big gash down her left calf. He picked her up and she couldn’t of been more than 60 pounds.
He carried her into his living room and set her down on the hardwood. He ran to his hall closet to get his first aid kit, thought for a second, and took the plastic sheet that he kept on the bottom shelf. He put the sheet down on the floor and gently rolled the girl onto the sheet. He took a piece of gauze and placed it on the crepuscular wound. I swelled with blood almost instantly. I can’t do this on my own, he thought to himself. He hastily wrapped pieces of gauze around the wound, and sealed it off with tape. By now the blood was everywere, and it was flowing out of the wound at a steady rate. He grabbed the phone and dialed 911. A tinny voice came over the phone as he made a connection.
“911 what is you emergency.”
“There is a girl in my house, she is loosing a lot of blood,” Josh nearly screamed into the phone.
“What is you address.”
“978 Manning Avenue, please hurry.”
“An ambulance is on it’s way, about five minutes.” And the line went dead.
Josh heard stomping up his steps, he looked out the window and saw the girls father lumbering up his front steps. He picked up the girl and brought her to the kitchen which was in the back of the house. he heard banging on the door, and the yelling of a drunk man.
“Give me back my daughter,” Josh’s neighbor slurred through the door. “I’ll kill you.”
Josh ran from the back room and opened the front door, he opened the door slowly. However he wasn’t ready for the already bloody knife that would follow him opening the door. It slashed at him, but slowly, Josh’s twenty years of Taekwondo had paid off. He sidestepped the knife slash and grabbed the drunk mans arm, he held it in a firm grip. He punched the man hard in the gut, and then chopped the mans throat with the back of his hand. The man choaked and bent at the waist. A final chop to the back of the neck put the man on the ground for good, this was a good thing because Josh heard sirens approaching.
He ran to get the girl he had put on the kitchen table. He picked her up gingerly, careful of her wounds, and brought her outside to the ambulance that was on the road. The paramedics were unloading the crash cart, and they saw him, their brows’ furrowed and they scrutinized him. They saw the man slumped on his doorstep, and then they looked at the girl with concern in his eyes. They decided that she was more important, they swarmed over her like bees trying to save her life. However Josh saw one man, one paramedic, hang back from the group and pull out his radio. He muttered some words that Josh could not hear, he put his radio away and started walking toward Josh.
“What happened here,” sputtered the man. Josh responded tentatively.
“Uhmm, I found this girl on her doorstep and she was bleeding, so I took her into my house and called the ambulance.”
“That’s it, nothing else,” the EMT questioned. “What about the man on your doorstep, he looks knocked out!”
“I think that’s the father of the girl. He is the one who did this to the girl.” It was then that the police arrived. The police officer nearly leaped out f his car and took hold of the scene immediately. People were starting to come out of their houses to see what was going on, the police reacted accordingly. They sent some people to the man on Josh’s doorstep, ad one of the people came to talk to Josh. Of the EMT’s started talking in a fury.
“You need to detain the man over there, he was the one who did this to that girl.” The police officer moved to make an order to the people looking at the man. They put handcuffs on the man and dragged him to the back of the police car, he would be waking up in a prison cell.}

Kandraken Chapter TWO!!

Peter landed on an island just off the coast of San Francisco. A rock really. This was the place that he did his thinking. After every mission he came to this location, to the cave that he had filled with his possessions that even master Chow couldn’t see. They were things from his early life, from his family. The picture of his mother and younger brother (only by two years) sat on the magic carved shelf that was on the inner most wall.

They had lived near the poverty line in a tiny one bedroom north-side apartment in the City of Edmonton. He had lived with his mother, his brother and his abusive alcoholic father. Their life was horrible. They barely had enough to eat some days, and others, noting at all. His father had squandered the family budget on his gambling addiction, and buying beer, and Bourbon. He vividly remembered his father beating his mother. One night he beat her nearly to death before he finally passed out. Peter found it weird that he never touched John or him. But he knew that as soon as something happened to their mother his focus was going to switch to one of them. For as long as he could remember Peter had had a boiling hot hate for his father. He wised that he had the power to kill the bastard, but he didn’t. That was, until his powers had “come to maturity” Master Chow had called it.

He remembered that night more vividly, like it had happened yesterday. The night that he had gained his powers was a horrible night. There was a snow storm boiling outside, and his father had been drinking, almost to the point of him passing out, but no, Peters mother would not have that kind of mercy. The beating that night had come with a higher intensity that on other nights. Peters father rained blows down on his mothers face, and chest. She was bleeding from her broken nose and the many cuts that were on her face. Peter, who was eight, was sitting in the closet. His six year old brother cuddled up next to his, they were both crying in the fettle position. This was their usual place to be when their father was going nuts.

Then from the middle of nowhere he heard ... a voice. It did not sound like one he had heard before. It was INSIDE his head! It said.

“Peter, let the power flow through you. This power that I grant you to save yourself!” Peter felt a rush of power through his body. He saw the world almost differently now, almost black and white. He knew what to do to make the power work. He extended his had to the door, and felt a wave of power blast out from his hand. The recoil sent him backwards into his bed, his brother was cowering behind it, afraid of his brother. Peter walked, no, floated out into the hall and into the room where his mother was getting beaten. He went up to his father, who was standing white with his face flushed red and angry. His mother ran to cower behind the couch.

In his fathers drunken rage he staggered to Peter with the look of hell in his eyes. Peter extended his hand and three sparkling blue spikes shot out from his fingertips. They just skimmed his fathers skin and pinned him to the wall with his T-shirt. Peter’s father yelped, and struggled to get off the wall, but his struggle was in vain. Peter took a step forward, and reached back his right hand in a fist, and plowed it forward. It hit his father square in the nose and slammed his face into the wall, creating a dent in the drywall. He rained blows exactly like that one, alternating his right and left fists until his Peter’s father was begging for mercy. Peter would let no mercy fall though. When he was done venting his rage, he held his right hand palm up. A dagger was created in his hand, and this he jammed into his fathers forehead.

Peter slumped to the ground, and expelled the remaining energy. His head tilted back and his chest rose up. There was a blinding flash of light and a blast that took out the outside wall of the apartment building. Now, Peter’s brother had wandered into the room, and his mother was already there. They were both shot out of the building’s outer wall and they smashed into the street four stories bellow. Peter had time to witness his Mother and Brother fall to the earth, and land in a spatter of blood, just before he saw the for of Master Chow hovering above the street outside the busted window. The world went black, and he fell into unconsciousness.

It had been a long seven years of training since then, he took the sharp rock from the shelf, and scratched another point into the rock, the seventh point. Peter walked to the bedroll that was the same as he had left it, he crawled under the rough wool blanket. He cried himself to sleep.