YES! OMG!

Happens all the time

Scythe by Neal Shusterman

"Terror"

Terror

Drip

The sound is maddening. All night she has been listening to this stupid drippy faucet.

Drip

“I know he told me not to leave this room after midnight, but I cannot take this anymore. This is driving me insane.” She whispers to herself, slowly turning the warm covers back off her. The night air chilly but stale.

Drip

She shivers, “this room is like an icebox, why do they have the temperature turned down so far?”. She makes her way to the door and turns the knob.

Drip

Glancing at the clock on the dresser it flashes 1:01 AM. She twists the brass door handle and walks out into the dark hall way.

Drip

“Where IS that coming from…” She whispers to herself softly following the sound past room after room.

Drip

“Here.” She stops in front of a door just as plain as the rest. The only difference is the number plate is missing. Deep scratch marks mar the surface where the number should be.

Drip

Her hand falters just before she turns the knob remembering the old house keeper’s warning. “Whatever you do, whatever you hear do not leave this room after midnight.” She could almost hear his raspy voice even now.

Drip

Shaking her head “This is ridiculous, I’m just going to turn the faucet off and go back.” She turns the knob and walks into a room identical to her room only all of the furniture is in the opposite place. Quickly she walks to the bathroom, her fingers and toes almost numb.

Drip

She opens the door and goes to the faucet and turns the handles.

Drip

“Why isn’t it stopping.” She whispers angrily to herself, she grips the handles and twists harder.

Drip Drip

She twists harder.

Drip

Angrily she lets go and looks up into the mirror. Her face reflected back identical except for her eyes, normally a dark green are pitch black. Startled she steps back tripping slightly unable to look away, slowly blood leaks from her reflections eyes.

Drip

She looks down at the faucet realizing the liquid dripping wasn’t water. It was pitch black and thick.

Drip

Looking back up at the mirror the reflection was no longer her face. The face was ghostly white, lines of blood running from the dark eyes and it’s jaw missing completely.

Drip

Frantically she reaches for the door knob breaking it off in her hands.

Suddenly she hears a familiar raspy voice “I told you not to leave.”

“I..” she turns around. The monster from the mirror before her. It’s limbs unnaturally thin and iridescent.

“Too late” the familiar voice distorted now coming from the creature before her. She screams as lightening quick it grabs her and the room goes pitch.

Drip

Drip

Drip

Written by Teen Librarian Tiffany



Which are you?

Scary Story #2

Tears

“Ring around the rosey”

She hears children giggling from the next room.

“A pocket full of posey”

Her breathing erratic and her hands shake as she slowly turns the ancient doorknob of the hospital room.

“ashes, ashes”

The door creaks, her eyes watering heart pounding.

“They all fall…”

The door swings open. The room is empty aside from turned over beds, the wall paper seemily torn from the walls lay scattered all over the floor. In the middle of the room sat a small doll in a pink pettifore. Then her breath catches.

“down.”

The word unmistakably came from right behind her. In tears now she slowly turns around, what stood before her was no child. It’s legs twisted out at odd impossible angles, it’s torso stretched thin, a gaping black whole where it’s mouth should be. Then everything went black.

Written by Teen Librarian Tiffany



Appreciating the Little Things 

by America Malacara

I, myself, am known for being somewhat of a pessimist. I can't outright lie about it – there are too many people that know how negative and close-minded I am to try to fool them all with mere words.
The truth is that, collectively, people tend to be more pessimistic when they notice all the things wrong with their lives instead of noticing the small good things that happen. I've more than once fallen into a vicious cycle where I can't seem to outweigh the negatives with the positives in my brain. It's like I can't wrap my brain around how lucky I am to be living the life I have now.
Something I fail to remember every day is how not every kid my age is fortunate enough to be living with any of the privileges or even rights that I have. Things I take for granted, like freedom of speech and freedom of religion and a right to an education, are all things that even some people in the world today still have not experienced. In some places of the world, girls my age aren't allowed to go to school and learn how to read – leading eventually to their entrapment into a life of poverty and homogeneity. Within even the lower portion of the American continent – for example, in Mexico – the students who want to succeed and escape the life they were unfortunately born into don't have that ability. Some schools don't have an adequate supply of educators, much less walls or air conditioning.
And I take this for granted.
I take for granted how the United States government, though flawed, is much less corrupt than its global counterparts. Referring again to Mexico, since it's the country I know best, corruption within the government has led to a disgraceful loss of resources for the people and a deteriorating quality of life. Essentially, the wealthy upper class has all the power to make the
decisions, while the lower class is left standing in the dust. Countless revolts and plans for uprisings show how unstable the country currently is, and the market for drugs has only worsened the condition of what used to be a beautiful Mexico.
I don’t live in these conditions, and I take this for granted.
The point of this entire rant is that I don't believe we appreciate how fortunate we are. We live in a downright okay country, and yet we still find ourselves complaining about our grades, or our social lives, or how there's no air conditioning, or the Wi-Fi went out, or this, or that, while there are hundreds of people who have it way worse than we do.
I'm sure you're thinking, "Okay, America. So, our generation is becoming less appreciative. Why does this matter and why should I care?" The thing is, people are less likely to get involved with issues outside of them if they don't even realize the disparity experienced by many. Why would you help a homeless man if you thought you had it worse than he did? So, here's what I'm suggesting, take it or leave it: find opportunities to reach out to those around you. There are COUNTLESS resources through which we can find ways to help those who are less fortunate. Just Serve and Volunteer Match are both great websites through which you can find a way to help. Helen Hall Library also has brochures with information on how to volunteer in your community today. Find a way you can make a difference, and you'll learn to not only appreciate what you have, but know what to do with that knowledge.