catherine be quiet

So there’s a youtube family that I watch called bratayley, they vlog their lives every single day and I’ve been watching them for like 3-4 years. Seeing the kids Caleb, Annie and Hayley grow up. They’re wonderful kids, and they seem like such a great family.

They have now announced that 13 year old Caleb HAS DIED. I am beyond shock. He just passed away in his sleep or something. I cannot believe that beautiful, funny, sweetheart of a boy no longer exists. And I keep thinking of his sisters, how are they coping with this they are 10 and 7 years old! The most wonderful girls, to put this kind of grief into their small lives is horrible. And his dad who he shared a baseball interest with. Now he’s gone. I keep thinking about them trying to wake him up, finding him dead and I just cannot. This wonderful family, and their wonderful son who would have grown up so great. Jesus Christ how is this real.

I needed to vent about this. I am sick to my stomach that Caleb is gone. It is truly unbelievable.

“Think of the children, please.”

She had told them so many times.

“The children. I beg you, all of you. Think of the children.”

They had ignored her, and now James kind of wished they hadn’t.

Their torches light up the cave’s walls, barely pushing back the darkness, just enough for Catherine to read and half-whispering translate the ancient symbols scrawled all over them. James is by her side, one arm around the woman’s neck, and goddamn it, the old hag is still whimpering about children and won’t anyone think of them, please. 

“Shut your mouth,” James growls at her, squeezes a bit. The old woman croaks. She goes still then. Her eyes are fixed on a point over James’ head, going wide and huge and he’s got enough of that. “What is it now, huh? You already insane with fear?”

The rest of the group laughs. Their silver daggers catch the torches’ light, reflect it into the dark.

“James,” Catherine says. “James, be quiet.”

“You know, this is why I’m a hunter.” He pulls the old woman close, frowning when her jaw falls open in silent horror. “Hey, listen when you’re talked to. Unbelievable. But seriously, you people are pathetic. Can’t even take care of a few bloodsuckers by yourself. Aren’t you angry? Huh? They took your children, forchrissake.”

“James.” A gloved hand touches his arm. Catherine’s face is pale like death in the torchlight. “We have to go.”

Something shuffles behind him. James throws a look over his shoulder, the others shifting their torches into his field of vision, but nothing’s there. The old woman lets out a pathetic wail. He shakes her off.

“Crazy old hag. You’re all cowards, your entire damn village. If it had been my kids, I would’ve marched here on my own, killed them all at once - hey!”

The woman is at his feet, digging her clawy hands into his legs where she grips them. “Now you’ve done it,” she whispers. “The children. I told you to think of the children.”

“James,” Catherine says, and then a white hands reaches around her neck and pulls her into the dark. 

“What the fuck - Cat!” 

A torch drops. James whirls around just in time to watch the fire sizzle out on the wet cave floor. For a second, the light illuminates the ground in brilliant, terrifying red.

“Oh God.” He can’t breathe. The torches go out, one by one, each falling when another hand claws into a neck and another man or woman is pulled into the dark.

Then, the old woman is in front of him. Blood pours from her thin lips. James stares, a scream stuck in his throat, as a claw wounds its way through her neck. The last torch blows out.

But the cave doesn’t plunge into darkness.

“The children,” a choir of hundred voices hums. Two hundred eyelids slip open with a wet, sucking squelch. Two hundred small, round circles awaken on the walls of the cave that has never been one but a nest instead, and the scratch of hundreds upon hundreds of stinking nails over rotting stone sway the choir’s soft song into a rhythm: 

“The children, the children, how could you forget the children?”

Sugar on the Asphalt: Thirty-Seven
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Here’s chapter thirty-seven! I hope everyone enjoys and I’d love to hear what you think! <33

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can’t fight the peanut butter & jelly sandwiches; august 22, 2013

I stopped at the corner of Ferncroft and Heath, my hands on my hips as I hunched over to catch my breath. Every part of my body was on fire, adrenaline zipping through me as my heart returned to a normal rate. It was a nice day, warm but not overbearingly so. I decided to walk Jane to her morning activities at Cross Keys, running all the way back because it seemed to be the only way I could keep my head straight these past few days.

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Northanger Abbey: Catherine Morland [ISFP]

Fi: Catherine is rather quiet and self-contained. She is sweet but doesn’t easily share her emotions with others – her ideas, yes, but not her innermost feelings except under stress. Catherine makes decisions according to how she feels in a matter; she changes her mind about riding out because she thinks she may have been slighted; she’s very concerned that others think well of her and hurries to apologize for her mistakes; she explores Mrs. Tilney’s rooms because she wants to see them, in spite of them being forbidden.

Se: She is excited by such things as cricket and horseback riding. Catherine likes exciting things – she gets a rush from reading romantic gothic fiction. She is rarely bored, since she can make up thrilling things to think about in the present moment. But she is also practical and observant – she quickly sees Captain Tilney’s interest in her friend.

Ni: Her imagination conjures up elaborate, dramatic visions of peril in which she is the primary heroine. Catherine is a dreamer; she comes up with grand ideas and lives them all out in her head. She often knows what will happen later, without conscious current awareness of it (she knew her friend and Captain Tilney would become lovers and jilt her brother). When presented with a mysterious current situation, Catherine works backward to what happened to Mrs. Tilney – she’s wrong, but she still reasoned back to the source.

Te: Not asking questions gets Catherine into trouble. She struggles to be wholly rational, but when left on the crossroads in the middle of the night, she successfully manages her own journey home. She soberly realizes how silly she has been, and seeks to amend her mistakes. Catherine is a woman of action, who decides what she wants and sets out to see it.

My 15 year old cousin just texted me asking if she can borrow my Harry Potter books cause she’s started reading them! PROUD MAMA FEELS

Then she reveals she has also read Divergent and she wants to borrow Insurgent and Allegiant and I’m like TAKE MY BOOKS, READ THEM AND THEN COME TALK TO ME

I just got home from the color run, and I’m proud to say that I ran the whole 5km without ever stopping or walking 😃 even when they threw green powder straight into my face and I was blind for a couple of seconds. The whole run took about 20 minutes haha. I have now showered and I’m pretty sure my hair has not been colored at all. I’m pretty disappointed about that actually lol. But it was fun :).

jesus fucking christ jennifer is nominated for an oscar again! she sure knows how to pick her movies doesn’t she. her career is just unbelievable, she gets nominated for everything and always wins, it’s going so fast. i’m like is she really that good in american hustle? it’s silver lining all over again. it’s just so crazy.