Ariel Brown, Paranormal Investigator (Intro) Hello, my name is Abigale Wright, I know, not that interesting of a name. I'm a rather shy girl, age 18. I have short, black hair and soft tanned skin. I'm about 5' 4" in height, and I'm only slightly chubby. I have rather small breasts, much to my annoyance, and a well rounded bubble butt.Ariel Brown, Paranormal Investigator (Intro)4 hours ago in Introductions & Chapters
You may be wondering why I'm telling you, a complete stranger, all these things. Well, a lot of it you wont believe and I'm also to shy to tell my family these things. So, who better to tell than the forever judging eyes of the Internet?
Anyway, I'm getting off track. This, my reader, is the story about how I, Abigale Wright, met Ariel Brown, Paranormal Investigator.
It was a cold, rainy day when the bus dropped me off at the entrance to Fairfield College. A prestigious, historical college that had been around for a century, or some where close to that age. My dad had been able to pay for my tuition with a family connection or a favor from a friend. As I carried by two du
Beanstalk GTS RP (Lois Griffin)Beanstalk GTS RP (Lois Griffin)Beanstalk GTS RP (Lois Griffin)4 hours ago in Introductions & Chapters
No toilet stuff
Deep BlueDeep BlueDeep Blue11 hours ago in Introductions & Chapters
My thumb and index finger join in a circle; the other three digits splay comb-like from my hand and remain erect while the rest of me slouches over the gunwale of the boat and out of smiling Mark’s sight. The last entry in my log reads “dive #76” but I cannot suppress a pang of anxiety as the familiar sensation of frothing salt water cocoons my fetal posture.
The bubbles clear and I slowly turn to a languid kick of my left flipper. Clear the perimeter around the boat, five meters. I ascend a foot’s worth and float my bust above the undulating grey. Joseph is waiting to run quickly over the benchmarks of the dive a final time. We agree I should lead the way. I keep my eyes open to measure the waterline as it fills the goggles’ vision with a translucent screen. I feel buoyant and rotund despite the deflated and emaciated jacket dragging against my shoulders. The belt no longer feels tighter: the weights cease to cut into my hips.
The reef is protec
Missing: Part One Where was it? This was the question that had consumed most of my morning as I feverishly ransacked my own home. I had long since forgotten exactly what I was looking for but still searched as it was in my head that I had indeed lost something and this thing was of such great importance that it simply had to be found immediately. I stopped myself for the twentieth or so time to reevaluate the order of my search. The state of my apartment was deplorable to say the least. There was no end to the mountain of rubbish and the only clear space on the floor was a narrow path that lead from the door to the coffee maker, wound to the kitchen, straight shot to the couch, and then ended in the bedroom. This path was well worn and seemed to warn against any idea of leaving it as you would be lost forever in the chaos that would put a dedicated hoarder to shame. The search. I hurried over to the couch and looked under it. A ten dollar bMissing: Part One8 hours ago in Introductions & Chapters