Mick Philpott (This guy who set his house on fire to kill his 7 kids- maybe 6)
Looks the same as Kenny from the Walking dead (the game, by Telltale Games)
The camera I think, cause they interviewed him and his wife- also his face is red because he's pretending to be sad about the death of his children- to give the image that he didn't do it
Is this what growing up is like? Losing those times when being with your family was the best thing ever? And you start to drift away searching for a deeper meaning to yourself?
EW!
Im eating mah dinner and I feel this hard.. lump? in my mouth, so I spit it out (gross ik) and it looks like a bit of my tooth?!
Its quite hard, so it probably is part of my tooth, but.. yea ._. Im still trying to figure it out for sure >o<
Christmas is a holiday that is far too happy for my liking! That's why I wrote this lovely, jolly story to get everyone in the festive mood.
It was a beautiful night on Christmas Eve, the streets lay silent, and the snow fell gracefully. Alfie and Thomas were playing in the garden, taking turns to slide down the frosty slide, which made their butt go cold when they slid down it. Alfie got bored of playing down the slide, and said to Thomas: “Hey, Tom. I dare you to climb onto that roof, and fly off the edge.”
“I'll be dead though..” Thomas said.
“You'll only be dead if you jump off at any time except 12:00. So, have we got a deal?” Alfie held out his hand until Thomas eventually shook it. “Okay” he said, “but if I die, your gonna be in big trouble.”
The grandfather clock in the hallway chimed- 12:00.
Thomas and Alfie made their way to the garden, and onto the rooftop of their neighbours garden. “Best hurry, the magic only lasts a minute.” Alfie said, biting his fingernail.
Thomas was a fast runner, he wouldn't take long- he'd be in the air and on the ground before he knew it.
He ran backward, then made the leap of faith.
He was flying! He was really flying! Or was he? He looked down. There was no down, he was already on the floor. He looked beside him, blood oozed out of his mouth and onto the cold, stone pavement. He tried to let out a scream- a cry for help, but nothing came out apart from a tiny “squeak”. Trying to stand up, Thomas tried again to let out another cry for help, but to no avail. His feet and legs couldn't hold him anymore, and he fell to the floor...
Thomas awoke in what seemed like a hospital, a very dark hospital. Most of the pain was gone, but there was a new pain now, Thomas had always been afraid of the dark, and now wasn't any different.
This is it. this is what it's like to be dead, Thomas thought,and with that, he let 'sleep' take him over.
On Friday, me and my friend Isabelle were on the school playground, and she notices a white piece of paper in my coat pocket, pulls it out and begins to read it.(I didn't know what it was until she read it aloud)
It read:
**** reverse
then ***********
give name, then wait
or ring 999
and say your lost. (the *'s are numbers for a phone,)
I then thought crap. She's found the piece of paper that my over-protective mother gave to me for my trip to London in June/July.
