PoeTheWriter’s Comments (group member since Sep 24, 2022)

PoeTheWriter’s comments from the PoeTheWriter's random book store group.

HEHE ELLIEEE!

And just did a full-on tick check

I got it off and crushed it under my boot dw <3

I go to the bathroom and I see one just crawling around on the top of my head...

Note to self! Tics do not give a crap about me wearing bug spray

I GOT THE 2ND HIGHEST SCORE IN DIVISION 2

Good news!

We hit over 9000 words as of today for Circus Killers #1: The Arsonist's Circus!

“I’m sure,” I insisted.
He sighed and looked away again, he couldn’t seem to hold a gaze for very long, and I can’t really blame him for that. He was fidgeting with the hem of his jacket, which was a dull pink color. I watched him for a moment before directing my gaze towards the newspaper on the edge of the table.
I reached for the paper and flipped it open, reading the front page. It was a report about a missing child. I read the details, my eyes narrowing.
“A young boy named Samuel Loxenbourg, age 10, has gone missing as of March 17, 2023. If anybody has seen a child with the following descriptors, please contact this number: — - — - —-.
“A height of 4’9”, with deep brown hair that goes down to the nape of his neck, blue eyes, last seen wearing a black hoodie and bluejeans, with black converse hightops.”
My heart skipped a beat, I knew this boy, he had often times been seen sneaking into the circus, and we had to drag him out multiple times. He been dubbed the circus’s little troublemaker.
He had seemed to be emotionally to the very actor that was currently missing from the bodies. Zach. Zach had always been extremely nice around him, where-as with other people, he had been snarky and rude.
It was almost as if they had been best friends since birth, the small boy next to an almost literal giant.
Eddie was staring at me, I just now realized that. I had frozen in place, staring at the newspaper. I had zoned out again… but when Eddie cleared his throat, I jumped back into reality. My eyes snapped up to meet his, and I felt bad, I had promised to dedicate this time to get to know him. Not to stare at a newspaper and get angry.
I glanced away and put the newspaper down slowly.
“Sorry…” I mumbled under my breath.
He shrugged before smiling slightly, and glanced at the wall, there were old faded pictures of people who had visited the cafe when it first had started on the wall. And that was when I realized, one of them looked a lot like Eddie, a young ginger boy with the date under it, April 3, 1996.
I looked at him again before glancing at the picture again, before pointing at the picture in a silent question. Was this him?
He nodded slowly, frowning slightly, he finally stopped messing with his jacket to look at me directly.
“That was when I was 16,” he smiled now, but it seemed forced, “Before my brother Sebastian died…”
My heart almost dropped, remembering now that Eddie was 42. He looked younger than his age, if I hadn’t known that, I would’ve guessed he was around 25.
“I’m sorry about your loss, Eddie..” I muttered quietly, my voice almost cracking with emotion.
He shrugged again, as if it didn’t matter. He didn’t seem to show any emotions, and the ones he did show seemed very much fake.
I started to worry, I wasn’t totally sure if he was okay. But it was none of my business, I shouldn’t be nosing around in his personal life. And yet, I couldn’t stop myself from wondering. I felt bad, I knew better than to be doing this..
I opened my mouth to speak when the waitress returned with the coffee Eddie had ordered. I glanced over quickly, my mind on high alert at the moment. I gave her a warning glance, but it quickly faded when I realized who she was.
I glanced at the door quickly when I heard the bell ring, but… that was weird… nobody was there. Was I going crazy? Or was I paranoid.
But Eddie had heard it too apparently, because his gaze drifted from the waitress’s smiling face towards the door, he was facing it so he could see it easier. I watched, my heart pounding against my ribcage like a trapped bird as his eye narrowed. I seemed to be waiting for something, but nothing seemed to come.
I wanted to ask if he saw something, but the words died in my throat as I started hearing footsteps, my eyes darted towards the door again, still nothing. I had never believed in ghosts before but this was pushing the limits of my psyche… I was starting to panic, this wasn’t right at all. If there wasn’t anything there, there shouldn’t be footsteps.
But what if something was there… what if I was just blind to something approaching us. I had heard stories when I was young that if you didn’t believe in something, you couldn’t see it. I had never believed that, of course. My family was Christian, even if I wasn’t really in the faith currently.
More footsteps, but they were quieter now. I looked again. Still. Nothing. I felt as if my head were spinning, and I looked towards Eddie, as if searching for reassurance. But… he was gone…?
I looked around, almost having a full on panic attack, there wasn’t anybody in the cafe. It was as if something had made everybody disappear out of the universe. But I could hear them…
I could hear the footsteps of somebody entering and leaving, I could hear Eddie’s voice. But I couldn’t hear what he was saying, the words were drowned out by a loud buzzing in my ears. It was as if I had put in sound cancelling earbuds and had turned on radio static.
I tentatively stood up from the booth, it felt like I was falling, but I wasn’t. My whole body was shaking, I glanced around again. The lights had gone red…
I had watched enough horror movies to know this wasn’t a good thing. I looked at the exit again, it was now blocked off. I started to wonder if I had passed out again, and if I was lucid dreaming. I had a tendency to either way.
I walked unsteadily towards the door, finding my footing slowly. I was breathing hard, my breath coming in sharp exhales and short inhales.
I tried the door. Locked. I looked around for another exit. There were no windows… but I could’ve sworn the place had had windows just a moment ago. Was I causing it to turn out this way, or was something else controlling my dreams?

I found some of Zach’s old medical files, sifting through the slightly crumpled pages to find more information. Zach had a strange genetic mutation, which had caused him to grow to a staggering height most humans can’t, which had caused a lot of people to question if he even was human.
I found one with a list of medicines Zach was supposed to be taking on a daily basis, a simple ADHD medication, some anti-depressants and anti-anxiety pills, and… schizophrenia medications..?
I paused in my search, the mention of the mental illness in his medical records striking my fancy. Nobody had ever mentioned anything about Zach seeing things, or hearing things, he didn’t act like a normal person with schizophrenia. But perhaps he had managed to cope with it in other ways. Maybe he had found… friends… in the apparitions that he saw.
I checked the list again, three times even, it always said the same thing. I suppose Zach actually did have schizophrenia… I feel kind of bad now, if it were true, he had probably not been getting the help he needed for it. If the ringleader wasn’t already dead, I’d have sued them.
I checked my clock to see the time, 3:25 P.M., Wednesday March 24, 2023.
Wednesday…
I was late to the meeting with Edward.
I stood up abruptly, my chair almost tipping over with the momentum of my form surging up to a standing position. I looked at my phone and quickly strode towards the door.
Nobody tried to stop me, probably because they knew better than to interfere when I was in a bad mood. I was still going to need to walk all the way to the meeting, as my car was still totalled.


Chapter 3 – Bluejay
I shouldered the door of the cafe open, the small bell over the door ringing at the intrusion. I scanned the area of the cafe, and my eyes landed on the familiar figure of Edward Trevor sitting in a booth on the far side of the cafe.
I slowly went towards the booth, making sure to not startle Eddie, knowing his sensitivity to sudden movements or sounds. I gently tapped his shoulder, which caused him to jump a bit.
He looked up towards me, and let out a small sigh, almost in relief. He shifted his position so I could sit next to him, but I took the booth across from him.
I looked him in the eyes. Well… his one eye. I still felt bad about his missing eye, but I knew it was from a practice incident, the same one that had caused Zachary to go half blind. They had been simply practicing their knife throwing skills. Of course, Eddie took the brunt of the accident, losing his eye, and the flesh around it.
I inhaling deeply before opening my mouth to speak.
“So… Eddie..” I said, tentatively.
“Hm..?” Eddie hummed gently, looking directly at me, before glancing back down at the menu in his hands.
His hands were shaking a bit, the poor man was either low on nutrients, or I had scared him that badly. I was praying it was the first option, which could easily be fixed.
I looked at the menu at my own spot, glancing at the options: A carmel macchiato, simple mochas, the “Daily delight”...
None of them sounded appealing at the moment, so I didn’t order when the waitress came to take our order. The waitress seemed to know Eddie, as they seemed to chat like old friends. I didn’t listen to their conversation, I was too distracted by what had happened in the office.
I snapped out of the trance-like state I was in when Eddie asked me a question. I stared at him blankly, silently asking him to repeat his question.
“Are you okay, officer..?” Eddie asked again.
The question gave me a pause, a strange fuzzy feeling spreading in my chest at the fact that Eddie was actually caring about my safety or wellbeing.
I didn’t reply for a good about three minutes, before sighing a touch and speaking slowly.
“I am alright, thank you for asking though,” I knew it sounded forced, but it was all I could muster at this point.
I didn’t want him to worry too much about me, he had his own reasons to care, and I wasn’t going to push him into the whole situation. He was here to help, and then get out. Not stick around and play games.
I glanced at the waitress and shook my head, signalling I wouldn’t be getting anything.
“Are you sure you don’t want to eat, Jacob..?” Eddie asked, hesitating before looking at me directly again.

My heart was pounding against my ribs, like a bird trying to escape a cage. I could feel beads of sweat starting to form at the nape of my neck.
I was glad I didn’t actually get anything to eat, I felt if I had, it would’ve simply rushed back up and made a mess. I started pacing back and forth across the office room, rubbing my temples.
The sheriff reached out to grab my shoulder to stop me, but he fell short, seeming to hesitate before letting his hand fall back to his side. He knew I was stressed, I made it very obvious in my body language.
“Jacob…” he finally spoke, giving me a pause by using my first name, “I know this is… bad. But you can’t let it get a hold of you, or your going to mess something up, and more people will die.”
I rounded on him, inhaling sharply.
“You talk of people dying!” I snapped, “You haven’t seen the carnage this murderer has wrought first-hand, you don’t know the things I’ve had to go through to try to find Edward Trevor, to get him to talk to me!”
“Bridgeham…” he said, with a warning tone in his voice, “Calm down.”
I gripped my head, my nails digging into my scalp harshly as I bent over a bit to calm down, having to avert my gaze from the sheriff.
I finally managed to compose my emotions to a presentable level, and looked back at the sheriff again.
“I apologize, sir,” I muttered under my breath, loud enough for him to hear it, “I let my emotions get the best of me, it won’t occur again.”
The sheriff gaze me a thoughtful look before nodding curtly, turning away to leave. He stepped through the door and closed it behind him, giving me some semblance of privacy, though it was short-lived.
I immediately started pacing again, my mind was running at a thousand miles an hour. I had to figure out who this stalker was, and fast. If he knew where I lived, and where I worked, this was not a good situation.
The thought that the two instances could’ve been caused by different people never occurred to me, I was too consumed on finding the person who was planning to kill Lilith, and bringing them to justice before they could actually do it.
I sat down at the desk, opening the laptop on the horizontal surface, punching in my password before opening the government directory.
I should’ve asked the sheriff for more details on the person who had entered my office that morning, simply “a guy with crimson hair,” wasn’t enough for me to figure this out. There could have been around a hundred people with that hair color.
The height would’ve been more helpful, but in my panicked state, I wasn’t even thinking about physical details.
I started sifting through a batch of files next to me, each one was a basic overview of each known actor in that circus. The ones on the top were the ones for Edward and Zachary.
I grabbed Zachary’s, cracking it open and flipping through it, finding a copy of his drivers license. He had been born in 1980, it was 2023 now, he was around 43 years old, if he survived. The picture wasn’t very helpful, having been taken 5 years ago, it held the visage of a middle-aged man with a sad smile, heterochromia, with one blue eye and the other being a bright emerald green, and blonde hair that was just long enough to scrape the lobes of his ears.
It had been said that by the time of the accident, Zach had gone blind in his left eye, and his hair had grown to the length he could easily been mistaken for a female if he hadn’t had such a masculine build.
The last time I saw one of his performances, he didn’t seem like he would kill somebody, but there was still a possibility. He was the only actor that hadn’t been accounted for in the state government, because he wasn’t a citizen of massachusetts.
Zach was originally from Lincoln, Nebraska, having moved to Massachusetts under the circus’ directory, but it had been under a different name. He had moved after, according to the newspapers, his brother had died.
Nobody knew the cause of Ezekiel’s death, Zach’s brother had died in the woods, nobody had witnessed his death, but it had harmed Zach’s psychology severely.

The Circus Killers franchise: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/72y...

!!ANNOUNCEMENT ON THE ARSONIST'S CIRCUS!!

We have officially hit 15 letter sized pages and 6346 words! (please note this is a lot for me because I usually give up sooner)

I unlocked the door to the garage, going inside to get into my car, only to find it trashed. It was utterly destroyed, the tires had been slashed, and the glass was shattered. The hood had been forced open and the engine was wrecked, pistons missing and leaking oil.
Whoever did this must really want me to not get in their way… I thought to myself.
Pulling out my cell-phone, I dialed the number for the towing company, inhaling deeply as I steeled myself to explain the situation. I was going to be late for work, this wasn’t good.
My reputation at the station was already at stake, and one late day may shatter all the carefully placed accomplishments I’ve done to get to the place I currently am. Sure, I’m still living in a dingy old house with barely any heating system, but pay was low now-a-days. I was doing my best, and because Lilith never paid for anything, my wallet was a bit too light.
The company never picked up so I left a message with the briefing of the issue and my address, then I grabbed my jacket and started on the walk towards work. I didn’t really realize how wary I seemed to the other people on the street.
I tried to keep myself an image of calm collectedness, but I was apparently failing, my eyes were narrowed into practically slits. I tried to tell myself that it was because of the sun glaring off the parked cars, but I felt a pit of dread in my stomach.
The killer knew where I lived… Knew who I was no less, and apparently knew which case I was doing. He seemed to have the knowledge of a higher-up in the station, but how could he have known all that? Did he have an intel in our midst? A little spy playing innocent and hiding their true nature?
But why would somebody agree to help that beast? Who would have no moral sense of right and wrong, enough so that a killer could persuade them?
I shook my head, trying to clear the fog from my mind, I was in front of the station now, and I stared up at the sign for a moment before pushing open the door with my shoulder.
The sheriff was waiting for me at the door, and he didn’t look happy.
The sheriff was a fairly short man, around 5’3”, but he was broad-shouldered. He had a short mop of chocolate brown hair, though it was hidden under the police cap, and piercing green eyes that held no room for any argument.
“You’re late, Bridgeham,” he said harshly, “got an explanation for that?”
I knew this was coming, had known that I’d have to pay for my apparent laziness. I swallowed back some saliva that was starting to fill my mouth before speaking.
“My car broke down, sir,” I said, secretly hoping he’d believe me, “I called the towing company and they didn’t answer, so I had to walk here, sir.”
The sheriff paused, seeming to consider my words, his arms folding across his chest as he looked me up and down. He knew how I acted when I lied, he had learned everybody’s signals.
After a long moment of silence he simply nodded curtly, and let me pass. I strode forwards slowly, feeling the wait of his judgemental gaze on the nape of my neck, but I tried to ignore the sensation.
“There’s somethin’ for ya’ in your office,” the sheriff suddenly said, startling me.
“S-something..?” I asked, turning slowly to look the sheriff in the eye, “What kind of something?”
I was playing with fire, asking my employer such a question, but I had to know.
“Some red-head left it for ya, he was wearing an eyepatch,” he shrugged, “Said he was a friend of yours, so I let ‘em pass.”
I let out a small sigh of relief, it had been Eddie, probably with more information about the circus. I had a feeling his confidence about opening up was starting to grow, and I was feeling proud of the progress I had made with the anxious actor.
“So… Mr. Trevor came in..” I muttered under my breath, smiling a bit, “Alright, thank you for letting me know, sir.”
I bowed slightly to the sheriff, as was my habit by now, and walked towards my office, unlocking the door with a special key on my belt.
Just as the sheriff had said, a small package lay on my desk, a dark brown parcel with only my name and the address of the station, no return address. I guess Edward wasn’t quite ready to reveal where he lived yet, but him sending me something was a major improvement.
I set my jacket on the coat rack and sat down at the desk, reaching for the parcel to open it and see what was inside. I hesitated, my fingers twitching as if to close around the package. I felt something was off, the air seemed heavier, more oppressive.
I suddenly stood up, and went to find the sheriff again.
“Sheriff?” I called out, poking my head out of my office.
The sheriff glanced over from the civilian he was speaking with at the time, and gave me a silent question.
I jerked my thumb at my desk, motioning for him to come in after the conversation, before retreating into the room again. I stared at the package, specifically at the small piece of paper that was laying crumpled under it.
The sheriff entered quietly, looking at me before looking towards the package.
“What’s up, Bridgeham?” he asked, sounding slightly annoyed by my sudden intrusion of the conversation.
I pointed at the package before looking at the sheriff with a dead-serious look in my eyes.
“Are you sure the person who brought it in was a ginger..?” I asked, dread creeping up in my voice.
“I didn’t say he was a ginger,” the sheriff shrugged, “I said he was a red-head, he had almost crimson hair.”
My heart stopped, and I could feel my stomach dropping. Inhaling sharply I snagged the package and shoved it into the trash, before looking at the sheriff in a panic.
“I don’t know a person with crimson hair, sir,” I said quickly, my voice shaking slightly.
He paused, his jaw working, as if trying to form words, but no sound came out, he stared at me with almost horror in his eyes.
I then stormed back to the desk and grabbed the paper, smoothing it out like I had for the one under my couch. On it a giant gruesome smiley face was drawn with the wording under it saying: “Run little birdie.”
I looked at the sheriff with a look of pure panic in my eyes.

You can see for yourself, I have the next big bit for The Arsonist's Circus coming up tmrw

Alive and well is good

:'>

Anywhoo

Hry??

✨ tazannah ✨ wrote: "Oh ok 😕 praying all is well <3

French fry?"

Yeah, they call me Tatertot so i call them Frenchfry :']

Just meh.

I miss me frenchfry T^T


I can't see 'em until tmrw

Meh, BUT HIII

GET ON MORE OFTEN I MISS U EVERYTIME YOU LEAVEEE