Story 1 + 2

I'm trying to write a book, I wanna know if it's good or not. Actually I'm writing 2, but I will let you see them both because I love you now.

Prologue:
“One more push, Mrs. Thomas!!! Push!”
Marilyn Monroe Thomas Lee pushed as hard as she could and listened to the angelic noise that was her newborn baby’s cry.
“It’s a girl!! Congratulations! What are you gonna name her?”
Right then, the new father of this gorgeous baby girl blurted out, “It has to be something beautiful… It’s Marilyn-just like her beautiful mother.”
“Oh, we can’t, I don’t like my name.”
“How do we know she won’t? She might like it.”
“Fine, but when she gets to be the age of eight, we are gonna ask her if she likes it.”
“That’s fine with me.”
　
　
　
Marilyn and Luke Thomas left the hospital overjoyed that they had a child more beautiful than they even imagined.
When they got home, they put their baby girl in her brand new, lavender colored crib. It matched the curtains and rug. They closed the door and went downstairs to eat.
That night, up in the quiet little bedroom Marilyn had set up especially for little girl, something terrible happened.
Marilyn Mia Thomas opened her eyes for the first time, only to take the first and last look at the world around her. Her breathing pattern slowed and her heart skipped a beat every few seconds. Baby Marilyn died at 10:44 pm.
Through the rest of the night, thunder boomed. The mother got worried, it was loud and scary and her baby wasn’t screaming and crying. She went upstairs to check on her daughter.
She screamed. Luke ran into the room.
“What’s wro-…. Oh, my GOD!!”
Luke ran to the side of his daughter’s crib. He lifted her up and touched her cheek.
Then, a man in a black trench coat with shoulder length, wavy black hair appeared in the corner of baby Marilyn’s room.
“I can see this may be a bad time for you, but I think I can help.”
“Who the fuck are you?!?!?!” Marilyn Lee screamed.
“That’s not important. Do you want your child to live?”
“Yes! Please, help us! What can you do? Are you a doctor?”
“No. But I can help. I just need you to promise me that I will be able to see your daughter when she is an adult.”
“Fine, you will be able to see her. Just help us, and bring her back.”
Now, story number 2:


Prologue:
Hmmm… What to write about? Well, let’s start with a greeting. My name is Missy Lusek. Weird last name, right? I know, that’s why I love it. I made it up. My real name reminds me of painful memories. Lucky for me and unlucky for you, those certain memories are locked and are not going to be in this story. There will be heartbreak, sex, drugs and-as embarrassing as it is to say it-bloody tampons. Those of you with a weak stomach should stop reading. That’s right, just stop right here.
I’m waiting….
You haven’t stopped…
I know you have a weak stomach and you think this will be easy but, sorry STOP READING!!!!
Oh my, GOD. You really don’t understand, do you? (GOD is capitalized because I just so happen to believe in him and he deserves respect)
Devil worshipers should definitely stop.
In fact, why don’t we just go down the list of people who should stop, eh?
If you were beaten and abused or raped growing up, abort your eyes from this monstrosity.
If you cry over everything, go get some tissues and dry up those tears.. Wait, are you crying already?! Just because I found out you’re a wimp? Okay, moving on…
Recently cured drug-addicts.
Mental people of all ages.
Black people (I’m not racist but some of these people are and I don’t want you to get mad and shoot someone or randomly pimp-slap a bitch!)
Claustrophobics.
Anorexics.
Depressed and sad, lonely people.
Little children.
Tweens 12 and under should go ask for help from a parent or legal guardian.
Those of you 15 through 17, don’t get any ideas! I don’t wanna get sued by your moms and dads.
Orphans.
Foster-care people.
Aliens.
ILLEGAL
Midgets.
If you’re still here that means you didn’t listen to me and you wanna be tough ‘cuz you do not believe me. I bet you’re either a 9 year old or 34 with heart problems.
Those of you who are neither, probably are bored and are pretty interested by now. Just waiting for the fun parts.
Well, I would hate to keep my few remaining fans waiting. Here we go. aliens.Chapter One:“Oh, my Lord! He just cut off his dick! Oh, my… oh, wow. Oh, there go his balls. Why would people do this shit?!”
Me and Clyde are watching BME Pain Olympics. These people are chopping off their penises and testicles!! That’s messed up chiz! They were literally taking knives and scraping the skin. And hatchets! They tied a string around it to cut off the circulation so they wouldn’t bleed to death. And then just slammed the hatchet down and cut it off and chopped it up into little tiny pieces. Chop, chop, CHOP!!
“I know, right? It’s disgusting! Oh, I’m gonna throw up!”
“Wow, this is just wrong, I don’t understand at all. Hey, what time is it?”
“2:34, why?”
“Shit, I gotta go. Mariah’s concert is at 3:45.”
“Well, see ya later, then.”
I grabbed my black and pink Playboy bag and walked out the door. In my head, I was thanking GOD for a good excuse to leave that disgusting, gag-worthy video.



Just tell me what you think and if I should keep writing..