Tag Archives: House (TV series)

Guest Blog from James Buysen

Hey psycho people! Here we have another awesome writer in the making, I would like to introduce to you James Buysen. All of us here at young adult fiction welcomes you to the halls of insane, James!! READ MORE OF JAMES WORK HERE   thepaperbackadventure.com


“I turn 21 tomorrow, the day I can officially consider myself an adult. My awkward teen years are behind me, I’m going to make something of myself… oh, who am I kidding? Look at me. I’m pathetic. I’ve got no friends, my parents are ashamed of me, I’m flunking all my classes at Uni. In ten years time I’m still going to be living the same dead end life I am now.”

Story of my life really; Scott Grafter the outcast and failure, no friends and nothing to live for. What I wouldn’t give… just to do something with my life.


As Scott slept that night he was unaware of the cost that wish could bring him, some deals just aren’t worth the price. But the haze of youth can cloud the judgment of the desperate. Whilst Scott slept he was unaware of the choice he was about to be given.

“Mr. Grafter?” only a few seconds ago he had laid his head down onto his pillow. “Over here Mr. Grafter.” He could feel the rough surface of an asphalt road beneath his feet. His spun around to see where the voice had come from; he stood at the centre of the crossroad outside his house. Opposite him stood the silhouette of a man hidden in the shade cast by a street light on an old oak tree. “Do you know where we are Mr. Grafter?”

Scott looked around; he was clearly no longer in the bed in which he had fallen asleep. He was not even in his room for that matter. “We are on the street outside my house.”

“That is correct Mr. Grafter.” Scott eyed the silhouette warily. “It’s your birthday tomorrow isn’t it?” The man looked down at his wrist, “twenty three minutes to be exact…”

Scott didn’t speak; this was possibly the strangest dream he had ever had. “Sorry, how rude of me, I completely forgot to introduce myself. My name is Alistair.”He stepped from the shadows to reveal himself, an average height man dressed in a cheap dinner suit. Cleanly shaven and short cut hair; he had the air of a door to door salesman who sold useless ‘necessities’.

“This is a dream isn’t it?” Scott pinched himself with no effect.

“On the contrary, this is very real Mr. Grafter. I mean, this is all in your head but you can be assured this is far from a dream.” Alistair offered a hand to Scott.

Scott looked at him for a moment and then at his hand, he did not move. “Very smart Mr. Grafter, you do not know me, how could you trust me. Perhaps we need to find some common ground?” still Scott remained quiet. “Do you love your parents Mt. Grafter?”

Suddenly he had taken Scott’s interest, where was he leading with this? For a moment he thought the man’s eyes had flashed a bright pearlescent white, almost demonic.

“Of course you do what a stupid question. What if I told you, you could save them?”

“What is that meant to mean?” Scott had started to fidget now.

“Earlier tonight your mother forgot to turn off the oven… it’s still on right now; a very easy mistake to make.” Scott eyed the house, he made to move but found his body frozen stiff. “Hold on Mr. Grafter, your forgetting something. We are still in your head.”

“Let me go.”

“I can’t do that.” His tone changed, he had suddenly become very stern. “Even as we speak it is too late, too late for you, too late for them. I can give you a choice though.”

Scott tried with all his might to move, to get free of the grip on him. “Why should I believe you?”

“You smell that?” It was the smell of smoke, Scott could smell it strongly but he still didn’t trust it. “You can wake up now and deal with the consequences of your choice…” The windows in his house as it stood there behind Alistair lit up in a blaze of fire. “Or you can make another choice. You can save them, and in return you will work for me. Your life will have a purpose.”

Was that it? What did he have to lose?


If only it had been so simple, he had shook Alistair’s hand that night and his life had changed forever. He had awoken in a burning house and dragged his parent’s unconscious bodies from the flames. He was made a hero. His face was all over the TV for weeks. Never had he felt so loved by his parents and the people around him.

At the end of the second week though, Alistair came to him again. It was time for him to hold up his end of the bargain. He would become a Grimm; a soldier of the Covenant. For eternity his soul would be held until his dept was deemed repaid.

For months he wore the price of his parents lives; until he learned not all had gone so well for them. Whilst he hunted souls that had run from their deals; his parents had died in a fiery car crash. He had sacrificed his soul for them, only to have them taken from him months later. And then he learned the worst part… a soul saved through the selfishness of another would be condemned to an eternity in the pits of hell.

He had not asked any questions; he had been promised a purpose in life, a chance to be more then what he saw in himself. Without thinking about the cost he had taken the reward, and it was only temporary. It was snatched from his grasp like it had never been his at all.


“You realize that if you do this, you will be hunted as a traitor and a rogue? It is forbidden for a Grimm to peak through the veil.” Scott had managed to track down a highly reputable Psychic who was reported to have a direct line to the souls of the damned.

“They are there because I put them there. If there is even a chance I can save them from the fate I have committed them to, then I owe it to them to do just that.” She closed her eyes and took a hold of his hands as they sat across the table from each other.


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Tall Tale Fiction Writing For Teens & Adults – The Tale of Black Cats and Broken Windows – Written By Alexander Kennedy.

Here is a Young Adult Fiction Tale and also a lesson to be taught to all of us, from children to adults; respect the people who have live longer than you. And by the time you have read this story you will know why. Please, like, comment, share and subscribe.

The Tale of Black Cats and Broken Windows

The teenage lad picks up and hurtles another rock at the eerie house, it clonks off the wooden skin of the home, the dead ivy clings to the side of the almost dilapidated home like a person living in the past, unable to let go.  Upstairs windows have already been broken with antisocial behaviour but have been that way for a while as the curtains to each of the room’s hangout like hung prisoners.

“I’m throwing rocks, aren’t you gonna’ do anything?” The young lad Fran performs.

Fran stands at the front gate that has been ripped from one hinge and hangs on for dear life. The garden of the property had become a tropical forest of weeds and bush, everything colourful has been drained and sucked dry, it seems like a mystical mystery as every other garden on the street was pristinely cut and watered on occasion. Fran stands with his arm pulled back with a rock gripped and throws another.  The rumoured witches’ liar lives under a giant black cloud that only seems to blanket this house on the street.

The old lady who lives in the rundown home scrapes her dead-leg across the floorboards; she limps over to the screen-door, opening it very cautiously. A cat in tow within her arm, she rests an eye on the young hooligan who is outside of her gate.

“Young man, what do you think you are doing?” She responds to the stone thrower in her rustled voice.

“I’m throwing stones; what are you going to do about it, old lady?” Fran charges out; picking up another rock.

The old lady shuffles out a little more to the top step of her doorstep. Birds in the sky who circle, break from nature and fly away; the clouds of mosquitoes disburse and vanish into the brush of the garden jungle.

“You shouldn’t be throwing stones at all; it is not a nice behaviour. Why are you doing this?” She replies.

“Because I can and it is within my nature to destroy; even when it is the home of a rixatrix.” Fran picks up another rock and lobs it through another window. He stands tough with pride, believing he is more superior to the old lady.

“Go find prey, Paws.” The black cat looks up into the woman’s eyes; she lets the cat fall to her feet, it scampers away. “Young man, you have broken the rules for your entertainment, you must pay for all you have damaged, I will ask you to go home to where you feel safe with one small idea; I am an old lady, yes, I have lived along long time, so in ending I have been through more fire than you can imagine, I have done worse acts than you are doing now but repaid them all with all the happiness I lusted for. You believe I am only a haggard woman; I am so much more than that. Soon I will be throwing my own rocks at you.” So contempt the lady declares.

Fran’s eyes open to fear, he backs on his feet to the uttered words of promise from the witch. Turning and running away in cower. The old ladies wrathful laugh echoes all the way down the street, following Fran home.

That night as Fran settles snug in his bed, a storm concocts and evil idea within the night sky, spitting bad words against the world against Fran’s bedroom window.  He rests his head upon his pillow and begins to close his eyes and fall into a deep sleep.

“Goodnight, Fran Munroe; do not wrestle and do not speak within your slumber.” A rustic voice spells out from the shadows of his bedroom.

Fran’s eye open with a phobia he could not nightmare about. He tries to wriggle from comfort and shout-out to his parents but no movement and words come to be.  The only thing Fran can do is watch and listen, finally.

“I told you to heed yourself, Fran, as it is within your nature to throw stones for fun at an old woman’s home.” The witch reveals herself from the shadows and comes into dim light from the hallway and lightning strikes. “It is within my nature to deliver revenge upon souls who hurt me. Young people nowadays a forgetful, they forget that we old people have been around, seen and done everything; where you have pride and energy, we have fought and have memory. You should respect your elders, Fran. My cat, Paws, followed you home tonight and as you came to my home for disruption, I have come to yours for destruction.” She comes to his bedside and smiles darkly in his face.

The doubled windows of Fran’s bedroom open with the intruder of wind, ever so grimly. The rain chucks harder and thunder and lightning bang drums and sound symbols to the theme song of murder.

The sinister old lady takes flight within Fran’s room, hovering over his bed; she lets out a devilishly spine-chilling shriek. Fran can still only watch as the old decrepit woman is sucked out from his window into the war that has broke-out within the sky; her overalls and skirt flicker and snap at the wind as she holds herself in front of the moons light.

“You broke my home, now I shall take yours!” She screams.

With that, she extends her arms, pointing her blackened fingernails at the house and begins to hum to herself; she rolls her eyes again and again.

Fran’s whole house begins to shudder with fear, shivering with the real reality that is happening. Photo frames and ornaments firstly begin to fall from shelves, windows begin to shatter; walls begin to peel like skin from the bone. The whole house topples on top of the adolescent, and all Fran can do is witness the wrath of an old lady from down the street.

“The moral of this story, you ask? Respect your elders; they know even more sadistic and evil shit than any of us.” – Alex Kennedy.

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