SsshhHhhssS         Riding through this world of an oyster, for the girl that loves a roller-coaster.!. To her I’ll say; “you glide”, even if she’s flown..! For her; I’ll stand aside, even if she roams..! The taste of her love, is my fatal attraction.!. I float in her love, like the words in a caption.!. Her presence is euphoric and arouses my smell..! I fall so deep in her love, I invoke a spell.!. I adore that she’s driven, beyond what words could tell.!. She’s the only star of my heaven and my love’s from a well..! I picture her in my mind all the time and behind every wall.!. I want her pictures as pictures of mine and on every wall..! She knows when I’m present and I’ve got her in sight.!. She vows she’s my present, now my love’s ignite.!. She needs my passion when she blushes, so I hold her tight.!. I give her all of my passion until she gushes, all through the night.!. I never grip her nor bind her, though she feels like she’s caught.!. I’ve once bit her to remind her, thought she never once fought.!. I sniff her body as I would a flower, then I exhale ever so slowly.!. She quivers and it excites me, as she holds her breath then me closely.!. I place my ear on her back, she’s still, yet I can hear her heart racing.!. I face the fear that she won’t look back, as she’s still unaware in the streets I’ve been chasing.!.

Tie the strings to my life , my lord ; then I am ready to Go! Just a look at the horses rapidly racing, that  alone will do.   Put me in on the firmest side, so I shall never fall. For we must all ride the judgement , and its partly down hill.   But never mind the bridges , and never mind the sea. Held fast in an everlasting grace, by my fate and thee.   Good bye to the life I use to live , and the world I used to know. Kiss my kids for me, then I am ready to go.   My mother, I truly loved you , this I want you to know.  My Friends & Families , especially my wife. Do not stand at my grave and weep; for I am not there , I do not sleep. Do not stand at my grave and cry ; I am not there, I did not die.   Hey! I know that you’re sad &  blue; I do understand the pain you feel inside. But, promise me you will  have the courage, to get through this too. This much I beleive in you. Today and forvermore; I will live on in the hearts’ of many, not few!  

Chapter 1    Today is my first day at Mystic Falls High. New people and I think I see two of my child-hood friends.  Jeremy and Elena Gilbert. I’m going to catch up. “Hey, Katherine.” ” Hey Jeremy.” “I’m going to let you and Jeremy catch up. Plus you guys have classes together.” ” Bye, Elena.”, I said as she walked away. “Let me see your schedule.” I handed Jeremy my schedule. “How many classes do we have together?”, I asked. ” We have every class together.” ” Sweet.” We walked to class together and Elena and her friends were walking. One pf them were talking about the 90’s dance. Jeremy asked me if I was going and I asked with who. He asked me to the dance and I said yes. During lunch he found me at my locker and we ate together. After school he walked me home and we hung out for a couple hours. After we went to his house where I met, Tyler Lockwood, Caroline Fobes, Bonnie Bennett, Damon Salvatore, Stefan Salvatore, and Matt Donovan. “Hey, Jeremy, who’s this?”, Damon asked. “My name is Katherine Petrova, I come from south Virginia.”, I said. “Wait Katherine Petrova?”, Asked Stefan. “Yes, you guys might know Katerina Petrova.”, I replied. “Yes, we know her Elena is her doppelganger.”, Damon said. ” I know. I’m her sister.” Everyone was shocked. ” Are you a vampire?”, asked Tyler. “No. I am not. My mother was a vampire.” “Cool, bet you’d be a hot vampire.”, Jeremy said. I blushed. “Thanks.  Why did you guys seem so shocked when I said Katerina is my sister?”, I asked. “She’s a vampire. She kills family.”, Elena replied. “Well, I didn’t know my sister kills, but I know Klaus and his family are in town.” ” They are?”, Caroline asked. “Yep. One of them goes to Mystic Falls High. She’s is in your guys’ grade.” “She’s a Junior?”, asked Matt. “Yes, her name is Rebecca Michaelson. She wants to have a normal life.” “Great,…

Life of 21 Century student in Toronto, Ontario is tough. Nobody helps a student from a moderate family in Toronto, Ontario. Family is here waiting for your help and support. Tuition fees are expensive. You have to study hard courses from University. Parents are old and waiting for your support. You must also create your own family. Time flies. Economy is poor in Toronto, Ontario. Everything is expensive. The cost of everything is going up. Income is not going up. The society is not like before: Lots of crimes, race and discrimination,…Life is not easy at all. God, please help us. To be continued.

Chapter 1—The Warning "I am inclined to think—" said I."I should do so," Sherlock Holmes remarked impatiently.I believe that I am one of the most long-suffering of mortals; but I'll admit that I was annoyed at the sardonic interruption. "Really, Holmes," said I severely, "you are a little trying at times."He was too much absorbed with his own thoughts to give any immediate answer to my remonstrance. He leaned upon his hand, with his untasted breakfast before him, and he stared at the slip of paper which he had just drawn from its envelope. Then he took the envelope itself, held it up to the light, and very carefully studied both the exterior and the flap."It is Porlock's writing," said he thoughtfully. "I can hardly doubt that it is Porlock's writing, though I have seen it only twice before. The Greek e with the peculiar top flourish is distinctive. But if it is Porlock, then it must be something of the very first importance."He was speaking to himself rather than to me; but my vexation disappeared in the interest which the words awakened."Who then is Porlock?" I asked."Porlock, Watson, is a nom-de-plume, a mere identification mark; but behind it lies a shifty and evasive personality. In a former letter he frankly informed me that the name was not his own, and defied me ever to trace him among the teeming millions of this great city. Porlock is important, not for himself, but for the great man with whom he is in touch. Picture to yourself the pilot fish with the shark, the jackal with the lion—anything that is insignificant in companionship with what is formidable: not only formidable, Watson, but sinister—in the highest degree sinister. That is where he comes within my purview. You have heard me speak of Professor Moriarty?"  

Adventure I. Silver Blaze "I am afraid, Watson, that I shall have to go," said Holmes, as we sat down together to our breakfast one morning."Go! Where to?""To Dartmoor; to King's Pyland."I was not surprised. Indeed, my only wonder was that he had not already been mixed up in this extraordinary case, which was the one topic of conversation through the length and breadth of England. For a whole day my companion had rambled about the room with his chin upon his chest and his brows knitted, charging and recharging his pipe with the strongest black tobacco, and absolutely deaf to any of my questions or remarks. Fresh editions of every paper had been sent up by our news agent, only to be glanced over and tossed down into a corner. Yet, silent as he was, I knew perfectly well what it was over which he was brooding. There was but one problem before the public which could challenge his powers of analysis, and that was the singular disappearance of the favorite for the Wessex Cup, and the tragic murder of its trainer. When, therefore, he suddenly announced his intention of setting out for the scene of the drama it was only what I had both expected and hoped for."I should be most happy to go down with you if I should not be in the way," said I."My dear Watson, you would confer a great favor upon me by coming. And I think that your time will not be misspent, for there are points about the case which promise to make it an absolutely unique one. We have, I think, just time to catch our train at Paddington, and I will go further into the matter upon our journey. You would oblige me by bringing with you your very excellent field-glass."And so it happened that an hour or so later I found myself in the corner of a first-class…

I.—The Adventure of the Empty House. IT was in the spring of the year 1894 that all London was interested, and the fashionable world dismayed, by the murder of the Honourable Ronald Adair under most unusual and inexplicable circumstances. The public has already learned those particulars of the crime which came out in the police investigation; but a good deal was suppressed upon that occasion, since the case for the prosecution was so overwhelmingly strong that it was not necessary to bring forward all the facts. Only now, at the end of nearly ten years, am I allowed to supply those missing links which make up the whole of that remarkable chain. The crime was of interest in itself, but that interest was as nothing to me compared to the inconceivable sequel, which afforded me the greatest shock and surprise of any event in my adventurous life. Even now, after this long interval, I find myself thrilling as I think of it, and feeling once more that sudden flood of joy, amazement, and incredulity which utterly submerged my mind. Let me say to that public which has shown some interest in those glimpses which I have occasionally given them of the thoughts and actions of a very remarkable man that they are not to blame me if I have not shared my knowledge with them, for I should have considered it my first duty to have done so had I not been barred by a positive prohibition from his own lips, which was only withdrawn upon the third of last month.It can be imagined that my close intimacy with Sherlock Holmes had interested me deeply in crime, and that after his disappearance I never failed to read with care the various problems which came before the public, and I even attempted more than once for my own private satisfaction to employ his methods in their solution, though with indifferent success.…

CHAPTER I. MR. SHERLOCK HOLMES. IN the year 1878 I took my degree of Doctor of Medicine of the University of London, and proceeded to Netley to go through the course prescribed for surgeons in the army. Having completed my studies there, I was duly attached to the Fifth Northumberland Fusiliers as Assistant Surgeon. The regiment was stationed in India at the time, and before I could join it, the second Afghan war had broken out. On landing at Bombay, I learned that my corps had advanced through the passes, and was already deep in the enemy's country. I followed, however, with many other officers who were in the same situation as myself, and succeeded in reaching Candahar in safety, where I found my regiment, and at once entered upon my new duties.The campaign brought honours and promotion to many, but for me it had nothing but misfortune and disaster. I was removed from my brigade and attached to the Berkshires, with whom I served at the fatal battle of Maiwand. There I was struck on the shoulder by a Jezail bullet, which shattered the bone and grazed the subclavian artery. I should have fallen into the hands of the murderous Ghazis had it not been for the devotion and courage shown by Murray, my orderly, who threw me across a pack-horse, and succeeded in bringing me safely to the British lines.Worn with pain, and weak from the prolonged hardships which I had undergone, I was removed, with a great train of wounded sufferers, to the base hospital at Peshawar. Here I rallied, and had already improved so far as to be able to walk about the wards, and even to bask a little upon the verandah, when I was struck down by enteric fever, that curse of our Indian possessions. For months my life was despaired of, and when at last I came to myself and became convalescent, I…

Chapter I   The Science of DeductionSherlock Holmes took his bottle from the corner of the mantel-piece and his hypodermic syringe from its neat morocco case. With his long, white, nervous fingers he adjusted the delicate needle, and rolled back his left shirt-cuff. For some little time his eyes rested thoughtfully upon the sinewy forearm and wrist all dotted and scarred with innumerable puncture-marks. Finally he thrust the sharp point home, pressed down the tiny piston, and sank back into the velvet-lined arm-chair with a long sigh of satisfaction.Three times a day for many months I had witnessed this performance, but custom had not reconciled my mind to it. On the contrary, from day to day I had become more irritable at the sight, and my conscience swelled nightly within me at the thought that I had lacked the courage to protest. Again and again I had registered a vow that I should deliver my soul upon the subject, but there was that in the cool, nonchalant air of my companion which made him the last man with whom one would care to take anything approaching to a liberty. His great powers, his masterly manner, and the experience which I had had of his many extraordinary qualities, all made me diffident and backward in crossing him.Yet upon that afternoon, whether it was the Beaune which I had taken with my lunch, or the additional exasperation produced by the extreme deliberation of his manner, I suddenly felt that I could hold out no longer."Which is it to-day?" I asked,—"morphine or cocaine?"He raised his eyes languidly from the old black-letter volume which he had opened. "It is cocaine," he said,—"a seven-per-cent. solution. Would you care to try it?""No, indeed," I answered, brusquely. "My constitution has not got over the Afghan campaign yet. I cannot afford to throw any extra strain upon it."He smiled at my vehemence. "Perhaps you are right, Watson," he said.…

Chapter 1. Mr. Sherlock Holmes Mr. Sherlock Holmes, who was usually very late in the mornings, save upon those not infrequent occasions when he was up all night, was seated at the breakfast table. I stood upon the hearth-rug and picked up the stick which our visitor had left behind him the night before. It was a fine, thick piece of wood, bulbous-headed, of the sort which is known as a "Penang lawyer." Just under the head was a broad silver band nearly an inch across. "To James Mortimer, M.R.C.S., from his friends of the C.C.H.," was engraved upon it, with the date "1884." It was just such a stick as the old-fashioned family practitioner used to carry—dignified, solid, and reassuring."Well, Watson, what do you make of it?"Holmes was sitting with his back to me, and I had given him no sign of my occupation."How did you know what I was doing? I believe you have eyes in the back of your head.""I have, at least, a well-polished, silver-plated coffee-pot in front of me," said he. "But, tell me, Watson, what do you make of our visitor's stick? Since we have been so unfortunate as to miss him and have no notion of his errand, this accidental souvenir becomes of importance. Let me hear you reconstruct the man by an examination of it.""I think," said I, following as far as I could the methods of my companion, "that Dr. Mortimer is a successful, elderly medical man, well-esteemed since those who know him give him this mark of their appreciation.""Good!" said Holmes. "Excellent!""I think also that the probability is in favour of his being a country practitioner who does a great deal of his visiting on foot.""Why so?""Because this stick, though originally a very handsome one has been so knocked about that I can hardly imagine a town practitioner carrying it. The thick-iron ferrule is worn down, so it is evident…