#timh078

Hey guys ! My previous deadline is changed, all your productions will be put in the video if you send them to me before October 8th ! If you want more informations on what's going on here's the link to my first post: x

Guys you only have 8 days left to send me all of your creations and little clips for Tim's birthday ! If you didn't see my previous post I leave a link here : x 

As you may (or not) know, October is the month of pumpkins, spooky ghosts and just before all of these it's TimH's birthday ! So I decided to make a video with all of you guys in it. You can send me a clip of you wishing Tim an happy birthday or if you don't want to show your face send me a text, a drawing, everything you want and I'll show it in my part of the video and show your username (Tumblr, Twitter or your name)

You have until October 10th to send me all of these ! For my mail address send me a message on Tumblr first c:  

As every other year, summer came with longer days and shorter nights. The sunlight tickled my aging skin as I stood there were I had been before. The field that never seemed to change. I've seen the blackberries pop up on the bushes. It was only a matter of time untill the childeren would come to pick them and sit down in our shadow to find protection from the heat.

Here summer didn't only come with heat and rain. It came with childeren, who would keep me up during the already shortend nights. They would run around, kicking footballs and singing naughty songs they had taught eachother.

Summer brought life to the otherwise lonely field in this forest. And this year was no difference. I could hear them coming. The cars that pulled up on the tenting camp, about 60 feet away from my toes. The slamming of car doors. Fathers arguing with their childeren about them having to carry they own bags. They were big kids now. They would be able to lift them themself. The childeren cheerfully greeting eachother, excited to tell about everything that had happened in the 358 days away from these woods. The parents saying goodbye to their childeren. A single mother chedding a small tear. The cars driving off. The Pals failing to get the childeren to calm down. And after lunch they would come. They would all run to the field and set up their batminton games or eat all the sweets they had brought, which weren't actually allowed.

It was the same as every year. Except this time there was only one girl. Her ebony hair sweeped from left to right as she ran straight into the field. She had it up in a ponytail. Once in the open air she looked around as if she was looking for something, which was unlikely because there was nothing here. All the blackberries had already been eated by the mockingjays that took their chance before this girl could.

She seemed allerted by the voice behind her, shouting numbers. She ran up to me. And then it happend. She jumped. And at first she missed but at the third try she got hold of one of my arms and pulled herself up. My finges shivered when she pushed them aside. She clam higher, pushing my hands aside to reach up. When she was about 10 feet up in the air she sat down to catch her breath. From here I could have a better look at her. She was wearing a blue striped tee and denim shorts that exposed her tanned legs to the scratches my fingers left on her skin. On her dangling feet she wore slippers with beads sewn onto them. She looked at me. I kind of expected her to thank me for holding her up, for welcoming her dispite her unanounched visit. But she didn't say anything. Just looked at me. In admiration I'd like to believe. As she trailed my wrinkles with her littles finger she must have thought of how old and wise I much be. She must have wished to once become as wise and strong as me. Her gaze was suddenly pulled away from me as a twig broke. What I saw, but she didn't, was that a boy had entered the field. A boy of her age, his hair as dark as hers. He looked around as if he was looking for something, which was like more now. Slowly he walked up the field. When he ended up standing next to me, the girl giggled and kicked her feet in pleasure. Which she shouldn't have done. One of her slippers flew of her feet and hit the back of the boys head. In a jolt the boy spun around and hastly looked around to find the person that hit him. This caused the girl to burst out in laughter and for the first time the boy decided to look up. He looked stunned as he saw us towering above him. I can't judge her for laughing. I probably would have too, if only I had a mouth.

"Hey!" the boy yelled. "What was that for?" The girl stopped laughing and said: "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hit you." "Well, you're not even allowed to hide in a tree." "Nobody said I couldn't." "Well, I've said it now." "Ow, since when do you make the rules, mister?" He boy opened his mouth, but then shut it again. "Ha, I win!" "No, you don't! I found you so I win! And you better get out now, before I get a Pal!" Over the years I've learned that the Pals are kind of the guardians of these summercamps. They are mostly students that act like they like little kids. Most of the time they like the money a lot better than the kids. Happily for these Pals, this was the 10-11 yrs group, which meant that there was a seemily smaller chance you would encounter a bedwetter.

"Unless you can't because you're scared." The boy said with a grin. "Scared? Please. I can come out any time I want." "Get down then." "Nope." She bendes forward a little bit. "Make me." She said, defiantly. "I'm not going to climb in there." "And why not? Is someone scared?" "No! We're not allowed." The girl sighed. "Fiiiine." And with a few simple movements she turned down my arms and solidly landed on the ground beneath me. She brushed the hair out of her face and looked up. The boy glanced over at her name tag.

fetus Jack w/ earring and braces and cute baby tim