The Black Book This is a novel idea that has been bugging me for quite some time. The basic plot of the story is told from the point of view of a man who travels around searching the depths of each city to find someone with a past. Whether be a good past or a guilt ridden past he will hear your story. And everything he hears he writes down in his never-ending black book. Will you be one of those who have released their burden to the book. Or will you let the past peck at you everyday until you crumble under the beak of guilt or torture. I personally am really looking forward to start writing this... But i need something from you,only if you allow me to take it- your past!!!. Please post an opuss talking about your past and tag me to tell me you've wrote it. I would love to hear the many different tales of your past. So PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE do contribute whether you want me to use your story or not. Also if you could comment on a title idea I'm stuck!!!! Copyright *2012

Blood Written ( Countinued) “When the clock strikes twelve you will see” Was what was written all over the decaying rotten walls of the new house .Jenna was curious about what it meant, but when she asked her parents what it meant they told her they were busy fixing up the new home. But when they weren’t busy, they couldn’t see it, Jenna had walked over to where the phrase was scratched into the wall and pointed at it irritably “look” she claimed “there, right there” Her father would say “look honey just sit down and eat up your dinner, if its really bugging you we'll paint over it okay” She nodded feebly,when they did paint over it made no difference she could see the blood written phrase in big scrawly handwriting it looked exactly the same. The next day Jenna walked in she closed her eyes then opened them again , nope still there , Blood Written. She looked again and could have swore it looked brighter and clearer than before. The more she read the clearer it became. The phrase was not what scared her but it was the way it was read in her mind,in a voice that wasn’t hers. The voice sounded desperate. Desperate for what, Jenna didn't know, she tried to explain to her narrow minded parents the concept of this strange voice and its despair. Of course her parents didn't understand but the worried look on her fathers face told her crystal clear not to talk about the mysteries of this once abandoned , ivy covered mansion. Jenna really didn't see the point of buying it after all there was only three of them what were the other odd twenty rooms for. Jenna had obviously chosen the second biggest, the first one obviously her parents. When they had come to view Jenna had exmined every room head to toe checking for any faults, anything that could prevent them from buying this ancient mansion and moving from their old comfortable home in the city.Jenna tried to make bad things happen to the house but the one thing she didn't try but it cane finding her anyway were creeping her parents out with the rumours about the centuries old mansion they werr in the process of attempting to make it her their home. Jenna heard many twisted, refined,edited versions of one rumoured to be true tale of the house.She had only heard off the old baker as she waited for her order, he didn't tell her the whole tail he claimed it wasn't for the fragile hearted but still promised to tell her the rest the next time she came for an order. She didn't know the baker well but she knew he was , truly kind hearted and wasn't doing it to only promote business. The main plot of each version of the long lost tales were similar , but it was the details that had been refined ,edited or changed. The little details like how many children they had been or which b room they stayed in. Jenna saw these tales like the pieces of a puzzle ,the final picture being the bigger puzzle. She made it her goal to find out what the bigger puzzle was.Jenna would visit the the old battered bakery almost everyday she felt more comfortable and relaxed there than she did at the big mansion full of mysteries.