Cool! I don't have time to do it, but this is a pretty awesome idea. I love starting stories with sentences like these.

Please top now. 

l sign up! Here's my story.

"Be nice," my father said. "After all he is your brother.”

“Not a blood relative.” l snap. “l’m not related to him.” My father glares at me, feet planted firmly on the worn wood floor of the kitchen, polished a amber by many passing feet. l return the look, leaning sullenly against the doorway. It’s warm in the kitchen, warmer than any of the other rooms in the house, because of the fire crackling underneath the iron stove, cooking that evening’s dinner. The kitchen itself is a long and narrow room, with  long counter lining one side, than a water pump. On the other side there is a stove, a large sink, and a pantry, stocked with the winter’s food. “He’s still your brother, Hawk. Respect him, for goodness sakes.”

l growl something in the back of my throat, spin around, open the old oak door, embossed with copper swirls, and stamp out, slamming it behind me.

A small snow storm is blowing on outside. l pull my leather jacket on around me, and put on my mechanic's goggles over my dark shaggy hair,  so l can see in this blizzard.

He isn’t my brother. Not really. James was adopted. He was the son of a rich cattle dealer, who died under mysterious circumstances. So my family, offered to take him in. And suddenly it was, “Hawk, be a good boy and go fetch this for James. Hawk, get out of the way for James. Hawk, show James how to do this, Hawk would you mind sharing a room with James?” The house suddenly seemed too small for me. With everyone-my father and mother, Izobel, Joseph-my real siblings, and Uncle Sebastian,  all hovering over the sickly James, sitting beside him, talking to him, telling stories, l felt ignored. Everyone was so busy and l had nothing to do. Now that James was getting better, he had taken to exploring the old and tiny house. l liked it better when he stuck in bed. And like this time, l lose my temper at James, but my father always steps in and defends James. l can't stand it. l find myself spending more time away from my family.

l look back on the house, sandwiched between two other houses, four stories, but very narrow. The windows are lighted with a yellowish glow. l can see someone looking down from the top floor window. l turn my back on them, worn boot shuffling through the snow. l do have another sibling. Old enough to move out on his own. His name is Nickolaus. He works at a old warehouse, and sometimes, when no one’s around, he’ll play the old piano that has been sitting there for years.  And l will listen to the sweet notes drifting up into the crystal sky. Nickolaus is only six years older than me, l’m sixteen. Way l figure it, it’s high time that l pack up and leave to see a living for myself. l wouldn’t miss them, they wouldn’t miss me.

Carefully opening the small door of the warehouse, l poke my head inside, then slip inside. l remove my goggles and shake the snow from my hair. “Nickolaus?”

It’s empty. Just an old piano sitting in a corner. No boxes or crates, no people. l make my way over the the piano. It’s ivory keys are a off white and smooth to the touch. The cover is splintered, part of it broken off so that you can see the strings inside. Balanced on the keys is a piece of paper, covered in small, sharp handwriting. Nickolaus’s.

Hawk,

l have been given a chance to move on, to reach higher things. Something that l have never dreamed of. l have left, when l am coming back and where l am going l do not know. l may not come back at all.

l belive in you, little brother. Follow what you want to do. Don’t let them chain you to boring old everyday life.

l am going to the unknown, the unexplored. l am going to discover.

Your Truly,

Nickolaus

l can’t weep for him. It’s too dangerous in the cold upper north. Tear will freeze your eyes. Nickolaus didn’t just use the unexplored as a metaphor, he is quite actually going to the one of the last places on earth that have not been explored and discovered. It’s always been his dream, even though he knows that very few people return from it. l reread the note, my eyes uselessly scanning on sentence over another.  

The wind batters at the thin metal walls of the warehouse. Follow what you want to do. That’s what he said. And so l shall, starting now.

l sit down on the piano bench, the cold, almost frozen wood threaten to crack. l place my fingers on the keys, ivory cold under my bare finger tips. And then l began to play.

I'll join! I love to write stories, and I'd love to know how to be a better writer!

I will join!

I have one brown eye and one green eye. The brown eye sees the truth, but the green eye sees much more. My mother has the same problem, trying to see both images at the same time, merging both present and future. A cloud of fog each time I open my eyes, present, future, or past. 

This time when I open my eyes a tree towers over me. Green clouds dot the white sky and all is silent. The leaves rustle without noise, a silent warning of the time. Future no matter what is always silent. The past is full of already made noise, the present is full of noise in the making, the future though is unsure. 

A quick blink and the image is gone. In its place is a sudden barrage of noise. Fog reigns and all I see is a carousel with horses going around and around. I look away suddenly dizzy. A person walks straight through me leaving me startled and once again in a different image.

My teacher walks to my desk and places a piece of paper flipped over. I peek at it and sigh. Another bright red note.

Marilyn,

Meet me after school. Notify your parents, I'm sorry I have to do this but, if you don't start paying attention, well you will be spending some time at a               specially designed school for people like you.  Mrs. Martin

I really doubt that those people will be like me. Mrs. Martin doesn't know anything. And then just like that I'm gone.  

YAAAY This will be really fun!! BTW, Hello, are you new here?? Sorry if you've been here a while, I can be a little clueless at times.

I am joining!!!!

Will post later. 

The ghost was eating a peanut butter and jelly sandwhich. Usually I wouldn't have cared who was eating my sandwhich, I didn't like them anyways, but that's a much different story then when it is a ghost. 

It all started when I walked into the kitchen. More like fell, because it was rather dark, but that's besides the point. It was late at night, which explained the irregular darkness, probably irregular because my parents usually left at least one light on. I was thirsty, so I had dragged myself out of bed, through the hall, tumbled down the stairs and crashed into the kitchen. Except, instead of an empty kitchen, I find a ghost. Eating a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, of course.

Now, it wasn't your average ghost, far from it, in fact. Instead of a spooky transparent ghost with melting features and scars from some terrible death, this one was pink. I've never seen a ghost, and wasn't quite sure what to expect, but I never could have imagined a pink ghost. Yes, this one was pink and had hair. Beautiful, purple curls cascading down its sides and over it's single horn. The sight was almost enough to make me laugh, and the only reason I assumed it was a ghost was because it was hovering some inches about the ground.

I brought my elbow up to my mouth and cleared my throat, startling the ghost and causing it to drop the sandwich, resulting in a series of quick movements which ended with the sandwich in his foot, which was more of a curly tail with a pom-pom at the end.

It transferred the sandwhich to its hand, and looked up at me with bloodshot eyes, a pitiful sight, if you ask me. Slowly, steadily, it straightened itself, then spoke. "And whoo, might yooo be?" it asked, in a deep, soothing voice that could only be taken for a man's.

"Uh..." I paused, taken by surprise by the pink ghost who talked. "I'm....I guess I'm Katy."

"You guess? Do you not know your own name? Or do I startle you?" His voice had a tone of concern, causing me to smile.

"Well, you did quite startle me. I wasn't expecting to find a ghost eating my sandwich," I said, deciding to keep my thoughts on his appearance to myself to be nice.

"Your sandwich? Oh, I do apologize. I was rather hungry and my sense fled from me, I'm afraid."

I nodded and turned to open the cuboard, grabbing a yellow cup and offering it to him. "Are you thirsty, sir?"

The ghost shook his head, "No thank you. I just ate your sandwich and do not intend to take anymore from you."

"Okay then." I tapped the faucet, causing it to turn on with a whirr because of the touch-technology. I stayed up for a few more minutes while I finished my water, then bid the ghost farewell. "I do apologize, but I must get my sleep."

The ghost nodded. "Of course, it was a pleasure talking with you. Thank you for you kindness."

I waved a hand in dissmisal. "No problem. Goodnight."

"Goodnight!" the ghost called as I set the cup in the sink and left the kitchen.

As I crawled into my bed I smiled, and decided I might need to start drinking more water. 

Hello everybody. Thanks for coming. Rose bud, I will try and find something for poetry and Joss, I am not new here but just under another name. I couldn't think of anything else. I will change it later.  I will post my story now.  

O.K. for  Rose Bud and anybody else who wants to do poetry I found this.

First Poem: you must write a poem about a color. It can be any color. You must write about what it makes you think about first. What it means to you. What emotions it makes you feel. I am not going to participate in the poem because I am not a poem writer. 

Anyway,

If somebody didn't do somthing soon there was going to be a catastrophe. Cassandra Dolphine leaned over the rail of the ship and stared at the dark black storm clouds behind them. Cass had been born on this ship and had neaver been onshore for more then a day. A wind ruffled Cassandra's hair but even that didn't help her worries. They were surposed to be in Charmont right now, but they had had to go a diffrent route because of piret robberies. Also there was the storm. Cas had lived on the sea for twelve years but she had never seen such dark clouds. There was a thump next to her and Matthew landed next to her. He was the cabin boy of the ship and also Casses best friend. He whistled. "Those clouds look bad."

Cassandra nodded. "I hope that we get to port before the weather does." Just then Peter called down from the crows nest "Land ho!"

Cas and Matthew shaded their eyes and sure enough on the edge of the sea there was a small cloud. "Cassandra," her father shouted over the wind that had risen to a gale that was whipping the tops of the waves into froth, "Cassandra get back here now." 

She ran with Matthew at her side through the tilting ship to the captain's cabin. When they got there  he was yelling orders to his crew. "Good you're here. I want you to go below decks until the storm is over."

"Yes, Father," Casandra said,  "but can I help get the ship ready for the storm?" 

"Yes you may. Go help Matthew and Thomas with the sails. They scampered up the rigging and started tying up the sails. Then the storm struck. Cassandra almost fell of the rigging the wind was so hard. Then the rain started. It was like icicles were being dropped on her. " We have to get down!" she yelled.

Thomas had already started to climb down. She went next. She had just reached the bottom when there was a bright white flash of light. It hit the mast and cracked it at the bottom. "Matthew!" Cassandra shouted. Another lightling flash lit up the sky and in a second she saw somthing floundering in the sea. "Matthew!" she shouted again. Just then a huge wave lifted the ship and  Cassandra was thrown back agenst the rail.  She bounced against somthing and looked down. By her feet there was a life preserver. She knew that it wouldn't do much but maybe she could save Matthew's life. She grabbed a rope and tied it to the life preserver, then she dove over the side. The water was so cold it felt that she couldn't move couldn't breath. Another strike lit up the sky and Cas saw that somthing was moving very faintly about ten feet to her left. She struck out towards the movment. It was lucky that she had learned to swim before she coud walk. Another wave came at her and filled her mouth with salt water. Cas bobbed under and when she came up she was right next to Matthew. He was coughing up salt water and dropping lower and lower in the water. Cassandra threw the life preserver over his head and started swiming slowly back towards the ship. Her battle to get to Matthew had taken most of her strength. Cas was starting to get lower into water. Finally she was about to give up and drown, but just then somthing pushed her up and carried her towards the ship. Cas looked down and saw the sleek form of a dolphin. Her namesake. All around her the water erupted into a whole pod of dolphins, all of them pushing her towards the boat. Finally they got there and friendly hands pulled her up onto deck. She and Matthew were handed towels and hot drinks and were taken into the captain's cabin to dry off. The storm was wearing off and Cas drifted off into en exhausted sleep.

So what do you think?