Arts + Entertainment
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H'ween Horrorthon: 'The Sixth Sense' (1999)
"I see dead people." "In your dreams? While you're awake? [beat] "Dead people like, in graves? In coffins?" "Walking around like regular people. They don't see each other. They only see what they want to see. They don't know they're dead."
By Carlos Gonzalez8 years ago in Horror
Why I'm Hype as F*** for Super Mario Odyssey
I never got to play Super Mario 64. It was a bit before my time. Apparently, it was one of the most mind-blowing games of the time, along with Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time. I didn't have a Nintendo 64. Video games were seen at the time as still a "boys" thing to do. I did have a Gameboy Color, though, which I was able to convince my parents to get me because it was so cheap in comparison. Pokemon Yellow was my first Nintendo game, and I never looked back.
By Katie A. Marchbank8 years ago in Gamers
The Mandrakes
Chapter One: The Disappearing Bin Bag Rachael Digby woke to her alarm buzzing tirelessly, it could have been going off for ages for all she knew. She cracked her eyes open and looked at the time flashing on her digital clock. 8:15! She was in the shit! School was starting in half an hour and being the first day back after the 6 week holiday she really didn't want to be the last one in. She didn't want to have to walk into the classroom late again and be the center of attention so early in the year. She just wanted to blend in and not be noticed. Rachael didn't have any friends in her class, or in school for that matter–she was what everyone called a loner. She wasn't a complete loner though, she had a best friend out of school who lived on her road called Charlotte Mandrake, but Charlotte attended a fancy boarding school far away, so Rachael would only see her best friend during the holidays. But, this being the last year in school, that would all change soon. Charlotte was a bit weird, she was very secretive, as were her mum and dad. They had kooky things in their house that Rachael couldn't even explain, but Rachael loved Charlotte's family. They were much nicer than her own family. Rachael didn't much enjoy her own family, she would much rather be at Charlotte's than at home. Rachael's mum and dad were always away on "business" although she was sure her mum and dad were just doing what they could to get away from their hermit of a daughter. Mr. and Mrs. Digby were social butterflies in every sense. They would forever be attending social events and were big in their world of jacuzzi sales–nearly 80% of their neighbourhood owned a Digby Jacuzzi. The Mandrake family certainly didn't own a Digby Jacuzzi. In fact, they didn't mix well at all with the community, which suited Rachael down to the ground. She couldn't really stand the people her own parents mixed with. Talking about Jacuzzis and tennis and blah blah blah. Rachael remembers that Charlotte's father, Dimitri, didn't even know what a Jacuzzi was. When Rachael explained what it was he exclaimed, "Ohh like a giant cauldron for people"! Rachael thought Mr and Mrs Mandrake were funny people. They didn't even own a car or a television set. And she loved their eccentricities. Their home was dark and old fashioned, like they hadn't changed their furniture since the house was built in the Victorian times. They had beautiful gas lights and candles, old leather bound books and stuffed animals. She loved it there. Her own home was a pristine, modern day, state of the art home. They had a maid and everything was up to date. But it didn't feel the slightest bit homey, especially so since her parents were away so much of the time. Rachael got her uniform on and rushed out the front door to the black Mercedes waiting on the grey slate driveway. "Hello Fredrick," Rachael said sunnily to her chauffeur in the front seat. "Good day, Miss Digby, we are rather behind this morning, but no worries, Miss Digby, I will do my best".
By Roxie Mitchell8 years ago in Geeks
Clutter
It's happening again. The constant mutter in my mind, the dancing tremble down my spine. The replication and dismantilation of my life, from another point of view. Is it happening again? Did it stop? Or did I stop noticing until now? My mind is shot. My mind is sharp. My mind darts, around a room, around a space I can't seem to place. Maybe it's a memory, a dream, real life? What is real anymore? Am I real? It sounds crazy maybe far-fetched but I question it sometimes. Am I alive? Is this life? Is this the last 10 seconds of my life where I see everything flash by quickly but slow at the same time? Am I a dream? When reality is a thin line you jump rope with, it all bends together into a fucked up sculpture. When a touch in the dark alone feels the same as a touch of the one you call home do you tremble? When the touch in the dark makes you remember the touch within your parts, do you cry? Does it make you die every time the breath lingers on your neck? Can you smell your past? Like a recipe you can't remember do you taste the innocence? Does the rush of first blood salivate at your lips? Can you pull out, like the thread that tames you? Will you remember which side of the line you were on when you get there?
By Sara Dudley8 years ago in Poets
Why 'Rainbow Six Siege' Is Broken
Something that grinds my gears about Rainbow Six, even though it's been out for nearly two years, is that it's not even close to being a great game when it should be already. So below I'll just name a few things that desperately need to be fixed/worked on.
By Lyvia Jack8 years ago in Gamers
