If You are Reading This, You Survived

If you are reading this, you are reading my story, which is very awesome of you.

Chapter 1

The One and Only Chapter

I went through every single friend I have on quibblo. I looked at their profiles, read a couple of their stories. If you received an invitation to read this story, it means that I looked at your profile and decided specifically not to delete you for one or more or all of these reasons:

-You write incredible stories
-We're good friends and you're still active on quibblo
-You don't create spammy 'stories' a lot
-You are simply a fantabulous person that I want to get to know

So, if you are reading this, thank you for being a considerate user and not spamming my inbox all of the time. I will try to read every single message in my inbox from now on, and comment on every single story I read. After complaining about the amount of spam in my inbox, I finally realized that the problem wasn't annoying people. The problem was that I had too many quibblo friends.

I started out with: 315 friends.
I ended up with: 70 friends.

I deleted 245 of my friends, and you're not one of the ones I deleted. Keep writing awesome stories, and thank you for being a good quibblo user!

Now, true to my word, I will now write a proper story so that this technically isn't spam. Also, while I'm thinking about it, who else is doing NaNoWriMo? I finished my novel! No, you can't read it. It's my birthday tomorrow.

I am planning on continuing several of my old stories, including the quibblonian Hunger Games! :D

Keep commenting!

Announcements over!

To the story!


Megan Pence smelled like cherry juice and dry nail polish and some kind of shampoo that no one could recognize. I looked at her from across the room. "I'm not doing it first."

She shrugged, chewing grape gum with the flavor still in it. "Someone will."

That little girl looked at the ceiling with her turquoise eyes. She knew I was impatient. She began whistling 'Let it Go'.

"Shut. Up." I gritted my teeth. I had to have a headache. If not, one was coming soon. It was so, so hot inside this room. Detention at Hogwarts was the worst for muggle borns. At least, it was when you were put in Slytherin, for some inexplicable reason. We were our only friends, although under any other circumstances I couldn't stand her.

"It's your fault we're in here," I argued. She shrugged again. After a pause, she tied her purple hair back with a rubber band. "I'll wait forever," she retorted. There weren't any chairs.

I'll go ahead and say it: We had to clean the potions classroom. Back wall, underneath the tables, everything. There was quite a lot of already-been-chewed gum pressed underneath a couple of those tables. Some of them had cheap potion ingredients tacked to them, like powdered flobberworm. It smelled awful when you got it on your hands. No magic, no gloves.

The wall had carvings in it. T + S. H + G. D + R. A million hearts, some tally marks like the walls of a prison. I sat down on a table. My ornery-ness had been known to get me nowhere in life as of yet, but I was determined to keep on using it. The infuriating girl took her gum out of her mouth and tacked it underneath a desk. I wrinkled my nose.


-HET signing out


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