1899: Difference between revisions
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'''"The year is eighteen-ninety-nine."'''
That sentence brings me back to my senior wood-chopping class when I was 14 and a half years old, where we would do nothing to chop wood all day to build summer homes for people. The year 1899 exists as a mustard stain on my shirt, as something I can try to wipe all day but It would never go away. 1899 was when I built my 100th house, my first time on a rowboat, and, unfortunately, the loss of my sanity completely.
That one memory that refuses to be wiped.
And it all started with a section in a library.
At the time, books were the latest fad to hit my class. In their spare time, whenever my classmates weren't chopping wood, they would take out their books and read until they had work to do again. encyclopaedias, biographies fiction books and historical fiction books, and, the most popular, books starring the famous explorer Utah McLaren. So of course, when I came home from school, I would go to my room and stay glued to books about him for about an hour, which was when supper (mainly consisting of deer and bread), was ready. The only problem was that you couldn't read that many Utah McLaren books in an hour, something I whined on and on about. My parents, and probably, the whole town, got tired of hearing me complain every day, which is probably why they built a library downtown.
The library was right in the middle of town, where the old general store used to be. Unfortunately, It was just a
'''May 1899
One day in May, I was roaming through the library, trying to see if there were any Utah McLaren books. I decided to ask a librarian if there were any Utah McLaren books in the library. "McLaren?" the librarian said. "We have some books on that. Follow me."
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"The Joy of Cooking", a cookbook
"Goulash and Fork", a story about a fork who chases a bowl of goulash around
'''July 1899'''
It's been a while since I went to the library, mainly because of that book I checked out. Anyway, I went to the library and saw they had built a new section in the library full of the fox book I checked out. The fox book was now part of a series of fox books. Reluctantly, I checked out another one of the fox books. I wanted to see if the stories had gotten tamer.
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Mister Fox's Shed #15 was a story I regret reading. If I had something that could erase one of my memories from my lifetime, that would be the one. It gave me nightmares and unpleasant memories that'll last me my entire lifetime.
The story goes that Mister Fox is sipping tea in his shed when suddenly, a loud knocking comes at the shed door. Mister Fox gets up from his seat and opens the door. Standing in the doorway is an adult. "What the hell did you do with my daughter?" he said to Mister Fox angrily. Mister Fox thought a minute and said, "She's in a better place, sir." "A better place?!" the adult exclaimed, angrier than ever. "What do you mean, 'A better place'?" "The one you're about to go to right NOW!" Mister Fox said, angrily, while jabbing a knife into the adult's back and letting it slice all the way up his back. This was all very disturbing, but the part that disturbed me the most was when Mister Fox, without warning, farted up into the sky.
I stopped reading the fox books then.
'''November 1899'''
I hadn't been to the library after that episode. Even though my books were way overdue and I would have to pay about $5.00 for it, I still wouldn't go to the library. One day, I got up my courage and decided to go to the library. When I got there, though, I saw that the section with the fox books had expanded. I couldn't believe it. How could a book series that gory be that popular? I was just about to leave until one of my friends from my wood-chopping class came up to me. "Hey there, Norman." he said. "Hi, Eli," I responded. "So," Eli started, "Did you read the latest Fox Book?" I almost had a heart attack when he said it. He liked them too? "No," I said, my voice cracking a bit, "Did you?" "I sure did!" Eli said, "I even wrote a letter to Mister Fox requesting that I be in his next book!" I couldn't believe it. Eli was going to be in a Mister Fox story. Then Eli said something that made me even more scared. He said, "Want to come with me?"
The next thing I said might have put me in an asylum.
"OK."
-Fr0gers▼
'''NOVEMBER 23, 1899'''
162 Pine Street, Irish Springs, MO, 63959.
The address of Marcüs Schevíng.
Also the home of the Big Mac.
Eli, my dad, and I all rode our carriage to this place. At first, we thought we got the address wrong, but after a few minutes, we decided, reluctantly, that this was the house the author lived in. Eli ran up to the shed and knocked lightly. Reluctantly, I followed him to the shed and also knocked lightly. The door slowly opened.
And then a skeleton popped out.
▲{{by-user|Fr0gers}}
[[Category:Trollpasta]]
[[Category:Blatant Ripoffs]]
[[Category:And then a skeleton popped out]]
[[Category:TOTALLY NOT UNFINISHED U GUIZE]]
[[Category:Pages with grammar that doesn't suck]]
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