[x]

Noticed in CommittingI started committing suicides. They were small at first, but more grandiose as the months passed.
At first, I came up with basics: wrist slashing, hanging, overdose, jumping off a building, and stepping off in front of bus. They were all very mundane, really, and if not done properly you just end up living very, very painfully. It was after those routine ways to snuff oneself that I began to get creative.
There was going into a biker bar nude and starting fights with drunk bikers. And when I say "fights", I mean with a knife in my hand. That was a fun night. Everyone was freaked out and angry at the same time. They all wanted to kill me, but they didn't want to touch me either. Eventually, though, they did.
Oh, another good one was sneaking into one of those giant dump trucks at a quarry and letting them dump tons of excavated rocks on me. The driver of the loader always sees you just as it's too late and tries to stop the load.

This Common BloodI am young when I first hear the word 'adoption'. I am so very young, perhaps three, maybe four. I accept it easily when my mother sits me down and explains that I did not grow beneath her heart, but rather in it. I nod my head, smile big, and ask when I'm getting a little sister. My mother kisses me on the forehead and puts her hand on my head as she stands up. "If you wish on a star, Sarah, maybe she will be here very soon." I practice my wishing until night's companions wink merrily in the sky.

Dear Anna,
I turned seventeen just recently. I thought of you when I woke up, and I wondered if you were thinking of me. I like to think that you

don't get tired of elephants yetI've had my crippling moments.
They'd either start in my stomach
with an ache like broken glass
or stab me right in the catharsis,
somewhere near my heart or breath
or maybe my left foot.

I wouldn't know how it feels
to hurt to walk, but I imagine
with a destination like farther,
it's no pilgrimage.
So take the burden off your back.
Life is not a sandstorm
and your lungs are only a mirage
if you expect to see your breath
every time you breathe.
So take a breath

back, just one step

and listen with your smoke signals.
Help is on the way.
I just can't promise
it knows much about this lifetime.
It's the same way I could never promise
elephan

Night Chaser02:37am 22nd July - depart from London by commercial jet, business class.
00:53am 22nd July - arrive in New York an acceptable 7 minutes behind schedule.

Slaying an archangel is hard work. It takes a great deal of study, picking your mark, separating fact from legend, learning your target's tells and vulnerabilities. Even if you succeed, and when I tore Gabriel's crystal heart from his open chest I became one of the precious few who have, there is still the matter of retribution. Angels never forget the death of one of their own, and a legion of these creatures now wait to descend and deliver their vengeance. My only sanctuary is the night.

The IdolI once saw a man on the television who was so afraid of fruits that when presented with a bowl of them, he fled the stage, knocking over the host and several other guests. Though I openly pitied the man for his obvious malady of the mind, inside, the small bit of sadism buried within all humans laughed at his bizarre affliction. How can one not find cruel amusement in the cowering of a grown man who has been confronted by nothing more than a bowl of peaches? But now I understand fear like no other. I now no longer find amusement in the terror of others, no matter how illogical.

Now, let me tell you the story of why the sound of wind whis

if only, if only.i.
we drove nowhere
and we spoke a language
that nobody understood
underneath a foreign sky
blanketed in the scent of pine.

ii.
you told me
my eyes were like envelopes—
because they were always
opening
closing
fluttering to the sound
of breaking seals
and ink stained fingertips.

iii.
i told you
we should run away
to a new land
with new faces
because
i was enamored
with people i had never encountered
and places i had never gone.

iv.
you laughed at me
and said that
if i didn't spend
so much time with my head
buried in world maps
i would realize
that i was living on one.

v.
i remember
it rained that day
and the tea went cold
but the

Wonderland Syndrome Ch.1Chapter 1

----

"Cheshire-Puss," she began, rather timidly, as she did not at all know whether it would like the name: however, it only grinned a little wider.

"Would you tell me, please, which way I ought to go from here?"

"That depends a good deal on where you want to get to," said the Cat.

----

Rain was getting through the window of the motor car. Auntie didn't bother to do it up. She just kept urging the cabby man on.

Her daughter was possessed by the Devil himself if ever she saw it. Oh her poor sister Jessamine. If only she could have seen the way that girl cried and begged them not to take her baby sister away. Bless the girl.

B

happy hollowLook:
I found him in Happy Hollow, the woods that's on the outskirts of the city. He was a little ways off the path me and my sister, Nahla, take to school, 'cept Nahla was sick that day so it was just me by myself. It's not the fastest way to get to school, but we can't go through Northampton or else the bullies that live there will throw dirt clods at us. After I found him I took him to this old shed out there. It's got a hole in the roof but I figured the little guy'd be safe there on account of it's a good ways away from the Northampton houses; plus you can't hardly see it through all the leaves and branches and stuff. His fur was real

The Doppelganger 2The book still sings to me, and that's when I pull it from under my bed and stroke the cover. But I never open it, because I know what happens if I do it wrong. It's still blank; but only of ink. I know the secret, you see. It's how I understand the songs, and know the melodies it echoes up to me, through time. There are impressions hidden in the pages- spilled mead and raucous laughter, summer sunshine and frost on dead leaves. The last time I tried feeling them from start to finish, I passed out from the sheer weight of knowledge, and it left my brain scrambled for ages.

I found out things about my past and my family's past. I have Irish o

Talking to YourselfWind drove snow over the trees with such force they seemed to step into the distance. The whiteness in the air covered everything until it was as faded as an old scent trail after a rainstorm. The snow was already deep enough to suck in a man's leg past the knee if he wasn't wearing snowshoes, but the figure trudging through it was no longer a man.

Wendigo had given up on snowshoes long ago in favor of simpler footwear. The straps challenged the clumsy fingers of his stolen human body, and he could never figure out how to move in them without tripping. He lurched onward with the tenacity of a wolverine gnawing through an inch of deer skull t

Rebirth of the Seer - Ch. 1Chapter One

"Don't do this, Richard!" she yelled. Her voice reverberated from the walls of the meeting hall, seemingly preventing the elders from issuing a response. I sensed frustration overwhelming her and frowned. Now was not the time for Monica to become indignant.

"Get the devil out of there, woman," I muttered from where I stood, outside the abandoned church whose sanctuary was being used as a place of reckoning. The perfect guise for a covert organization, if I had to be honest. The grounds were surrounded by an ivy-choked wrought iron fence, the area poorly lit to discourage passersby from trespassing. I felt an undercurrent running

Apologies to LaoEach day is its own microstep--
since I woke from my mother's womb,
I longed to mimic new words, trammel
the sound until it blossomed

like a newborn, and oh how I birthed
stories--told them how I wanted
the author's sacrosanct title
once I've grown. But growing meant

learning the practice of citizens
and their due contribution: beast-slaying
nature of please, thank you,
an apology: sincere

or not. Then there is time--the first
breath of nine, exhalation
of five, the suffocating mandate
of overtime. You grow used to it:

the cyclical disappearance of parents,
pervasive need of sleep, a home-
cooked meal's gradual transmogrific

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More from *TOMCAVANAUGH

I meant to turn left...The dream is always the same...
Been getting it since the 4th Grade.
There's this girl and we're kissing.

Holding each other tight...
no, tighter...
no, tighter...
I can feel her body up against mine.
Her lips on my lips.
Soft skin.

We kiss more and more...
in my sleep I can feel it all...
then she pulls away...
and
She has no face.

She's never had a face.
Sometimes her hair changes...
Use to be blonde, then red
and now
black.

A wise person once told me
"When your life is perfect
there will always be one part
that
is
lacking."

I stepped out of the restaruant in Beverly Hills
and
walked across the courtyard.
I was t

THE DISAPPEARING DUNG BEETLE 5The Disappearing Dung Beetle (Cont. Part 5)

Still nothing.

JEREMY
Been a week and half now, why don't we...?

CHELSEA
Does this have an exciting conclusion or are you going to keep distracting me from my book?

JEREMY
Come out to dinner with me.

CHELSEA
I can't.

JEREMY
I'm buying.

CHELSEA
You don't have money.

JEREMY
Take it out of my first paycheck.

CHELSEA
That's not the issue.

JEREMY
Might help if you at least tried to get outside.

CHELSEA
I don't want to try.

JEREMY
Yeah, but think about the possibilities if both of us went out into the field and...

CHELSEA
I just don't want to go outside.

Silence

JEREMY
Ever?

At The Corner...At the corner…

I wonder if they see themselves as I see them.

The cars pull up to the red light and I watch them from these huge windows on the world.

The guy in the white, Honda, dents on the passenger side doors, dancing to Madonna while sitting behind the wheel.

Lady in the green, Beemer brushing on makeup with the speed and accuracy of a
NASCAR pit crew before the light changes. The brush is bigger then her facer and when the light turns green, she slams it back in her purse and hits the gas.

Mexican men in an old red, pick up truck with landscaping crap in the back, three grown men sitting in the cab on top of each

THE DISAPPEARING DUNG BEETLE 4THE DISAPPEARING DUNG BEETLE (Prt 4 Cont.)

Act 1; Scene 1 (Cont.)

JEREMY
Which half?

CHELSEA
That, you'll have to figure out.

Jeremy looks around.

JEREMY
We should make the bed. Where do you keep the clean sheets?

CHELSEA
Staying?

JEREMY
I got nothing better to do.

CHELSEA
Hall closet.

JEREMY
Huh?

CHELSEA
Clean sheets.

JEREMY
I got the job?

CHELSEA
Looks that way.

Jeremy extends his hand. Chelsea stares at it.

CHELSEA
I can't.

JEREMY
Put up your hand.

CHELSEA
What?

JEREMY
Go ahead.

Chelsea raises her hand.

JEREMY
Gesture only.

They motion as if they are shaking hands, but never touch.

BLACK OUT

ACT ONE,

I Fell in Love Online

I fell in love online…
With a girl I never met…
In a place called Cyberspace…
With a girl in very little clothes…
While listening to music from a dot com…
While sitting in a chat room reading other people's misery…

I fell in love online…
With a girl whose status is "In a Relationship"
While mine is "Severely Single"
With a girl whose political views is "None"
While mine says "Extremely to the Left"

I fell in love online…
With a girl who cries in her pictures…
And wears blue neon fuzzy boots…
And has pictures of needles and DJs in her albums…
With a girl who hates her mothe

THE DISAPPEARING DUNG BEETLE 3THE DISAPPEARING DUNG BEETLE (Prt 3 Cont.)

Act 1; Scene 1 (Cont.)

KOURTNEY
Did you tell him everything?

CHELSEA
Yes.

KOURTNEY
You think a "man" in your life is going to make it all better?

CHELSEA
It might!

KOURTNEY
Oh really?  What about Shakespeare?

CHELSEA
That won't be a problem.

KOURTNEY
One "out damn spot" and he's out the door.

CHELSEA
I can handle it.

JEREMY
What's Shakespeare?

KOURTNEY
He doesn't even know who Shakespeare is!

JEREMY
I know who Shakespeare is!  I mean...

KOURTNEY
I know what you meant!  I have a hundred and thirty point I.Q.  I was a Mensa Student and I

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One of Ours (Complete Script)by *TOMCAVANAUGH

Literature / Scripts & Screenplays / Screenplays & Teleplays / Drama

I wrote this loosely based on a time in my life when I was working for what the investigative news show 60 MINUTES called "THE MOST CORRUPT SMALL TOWN POLICE DEPARTMENT IN THE UNITED STATES"

I won't say the real name of the police department and all the names have been changed any similarities is accidental. I know some of the incidents in this story seem "far fetched", but no... most aren't! They actually happened.

Thank you for reading and any comments will be appreciated it!

Segments of this script have been developed in workshop in THE ACTORS GYM in Hollywood, CA, under the guidance of Bobby Moressco (Oscar Winner of CRASH), Gilles Chaisson (Producing Director of The Reprise Theater Co in Los Angeles) and the Membership.

Thank you for reading!!!!

Daily Deviation

Given 2012-11-05

One of Ours (Complete Script) by *TOMCAVANAUGH A wonderful strong script ( Featured by ^Beccalicious )

Critique by =VitaMorior Nov 5, 2012, 8:39:45 PM

--I personally loved this screen play. I think it's really cool that it's all based off of a real corrupt Police Department. Thought it's obviously a new story it felt like it was in the 50's which I just adore!

--A screen play is something I've never seen on Deviant Art and it really shows how our website works and what were trying to provoke: To alter art from other art, to change art in a positive way while also having a contrast between pieces, and to depart from the most direct way.

--The screen play itself was very touching at some parts. It did have some slightly uninteresting parts but I think those are necessary to keep other parts interesting. At the end I was so surprised to how things turned out between "Father" and Son. When I started reading it I had the impression it was a short present story where as Tom took it to the next level. And yet to relate it all back to the fact that this was all real.

--I gave it a 4 on Vision because I did feel like there were parts in the text where either the point wasn't exactly made and the reader was kind of left hanging, or my personal vision was skewed of the activities of the characters (Which I do understand they did happen and they are not far fetched (As said in description). On the Originality I just had to give it a 5 because as previously stated it really proves deviousness. Technique was given a 5 for the same reason as Originality, and Originality was based off of the Technique. Impact I gave a 3, but that is due to my belief on controlling my life 100%.

--Now this is my first critique so please do tell me, on my page, how I did as i wish to do more. And don't be afraid to get critical, I would love to improve!

What do you think?

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*TOMCAVANAUGH Nov 30, 2012 Professional Writer

If you liked ONE OF OURS, please try the first chapter of my first book, THE TOLTEC now on DA... [link]

~RisingWolve Nov 8, 2012 Hobbyist General Artist

This took my breath away, and was more and more suspenseful the closer to the end it got. Since it was a screenplay, I had a hard time understanding at parts for lack of detail but this... this really strikes a chord for me. Wow.