Forgotten Nickelodeon Shows Novels & Stories

too much. Yet there was a niggling in my mind each time it felt like I had come to. A niggling that would not go away. Like something had sparked within my mind... and something seemed so odd. Had I fallen in my room? Perhaps when I was dancing? Could that be it? I sure did like to dance around my room when my music was playing… forever being told by my parents to turn the music down… maybe I had slipped? My room was forever cluttered. Hit my head even? Would that leave me here feeling like this?

“I won’t use the word bad, but it might leave you with more questions than the ones you already have.” Nick folded his arms. “You made me come all the way here to watch old tapes, so it better give me the answers I need.” Dalia rolled her eyes. “These aren’t just tapes. It’s archived footage stored on an outdated format. Show some respect.” She pressed another button on her keyboard. “And it took me half the night to find a functioning player.” “Whatever you say, nerd.” Nick leaned forward slightly as the screen flickered to life. Grainy footage filled the monitor. The date stamp in the corner read: Twelve years ago.

She’s as honest as she is sweet and generous, and it made the nickname stick with Ryan as well as me. The fact that she hasn’t been opposed to it, says enough in itself. What other front page beauty like her would ever accept being called a middle-aged man? My brain is short wiring. The channels and gears flipping and flopping all over the surface as well as beneath it. Days like these. Moments like these. I feel very much like the experimental bat from Ferngully. Obsessed as Nicky and I were with Scooby-Doo, we still had a mountain of other old VHS tapes. Most of them animated. The only time I know he’s guaranteed not to meddle is when we are having a movie marathon over the phone.

I smirked and placed the phone back in my bag. “Who was that?” Celestine inquired as soon as I placed back on my seat. I shook my head. “It was just Blake,” took the remote control from the center table. “Asking if I am pregnant,” then operated a random movie from Netflix. They became speechless for a moment before a loud guffaw echoed around the corner of the room.

James began. And he really should have learned his lesson about being vague about certain details, since he's assuming most of the reason for the problem they're in right now is because of how vague he was with Elizabeth when they'd been together before. But he couldn't exactly tell Elizabeth that she herself was having memory problems, now could he? James cleared his throat, deciding. "I have a friend," he repeated. "And I think he's having some memory problems. I can't explain it, he seems to remember events and things happening, but it's twisted a little. Like, certain details about the thing is wrong, or left out."

Chapter 6: A New Beginning The sun rose slowly over Silver Creek, casting its warm golden light upon the sleepy town. As the first rays of sunlight streamed through the curtains, Lisa Micheal awoke to the sound of her alarm clock.Today was the day she had been dreaming of and working towards for as long as she could remember. It was a day she had been anxiously awaiting for weeks - her first day at her new school. The summer had flown by in a blur of excitement and anticipation, and now the moment was finally here. Lisa took a deep breath and whispered to herself, "This is it. A new beginning." Lisa's family had moved to the picturesque town of silver creek over the summer, leaving behind th

The smell of cellar mold brought the memories flooding back. When I was younger, I think I hated Vivian even more. The Family hired the best 24/7 medical team. It was for Vivian. The one family heirloom necklace. It went to Vivian. New cars arrived. Vivian always got the first ride. I was shoved in the back of the guards' sedan. Bedtime stories were for Vivian, too. Papa Marcello's voice would turn surprisingly gentle. He'd tell stories of the Sicilian Family's rise. Stories of honor and blood.

Dawn. The basement of _Blackthorn Mansion_ was dark. Only one torch was burning. _Kael_ stood at the head of the table. In front of him, 3 old men chained. _Elder Varis, Elder Morn, Elder Sera._ 5 years ago these 3 told him: "Reject her or the pack dies." Today they would spit the truth. Or die. Torin stood at the door. Weapon in hand. Kael's voice was ice. "Last chance. Tell the truth."

The grandfather clock in the grand hallway of the Silvercrest packhouse struck midnight, its heavy, rhythmic ticks echoing like a countdown through the silent room. Evelyn Vance sat perfectly still on the edge of the leather armchair, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. The silver band on her left ring finger felt exceptionally heavy tonight, cold against her skin. Three years. For exactly one thousand and ninety-five days, she had worn that ring, and for those exact same days, she had been a ghost in her own home.

“You have an interesting case, Mr. Anderson. I will say. Your subconscious knows everything you went through for those six months, but it refuses to give up an iota of information.” I laced my fingers together. “I did get snippets of memories. One that was large enough to land me in the hospital. And even a few small moments came back.” “Anything lately?” “No, sir. I also haven’t been in any familiar places, though. I removed a lot of stresses in my life for a month or so, as well.”