Find Out About Home Security Systems And Home Alarm Products
i have a party to go to tonight but my parents have a dumb alarm system which they never turn on but i have a door sensor that lets them know wen the door opens i would like to know how to bypass that
i have a party to go to tonight but my parents have a dumb alarm system which they never turn on but i have a door sensor that lets them know wen the door opens i would like to know how to bypass that
I am having a party while my parents are away (or trying to), but they have put a camera in my kitchen which is kind of hard to avoid… How can i cheat the camera or make up a good excuse for why it "accidently got unplugged"? PLEASE HELP!
I feel like I’m dead. I’m 17 and I just have had such catastrophe in my life I gave up. I know, every 17 year old feels like its all about them. I’m just saying, I used to be on the right track, did drama club, have friends; then once i lost my v card to someone my life just totally changed. I went through my emotional damage of being used and then just everything about me changed. Instead of being the nice theater geek i once was; I became this dark, sarcastic asshole who hates everyone and everything. Only characteristic that really has stayed with me all this time is me being shy.
I feel like inside is hardened ball of stone. I have only cried one time within the past year and that was briefly at my grandfathers funeral. Besides that, I don’t really get emotional. I just get paranoid and pissed off. I go to therapy but even therapy is bl eh. I go because I’ve relied on it for so long I don’t know how to live without it. But I have a hard time opening up in therapy because I don’t want to be sent to a home for sounding like I’m going to hurt myself.
I don’t know where to go with my life anymore. I constantly put a shield up and hate people. I guess I weigh out my priorities and I choose to stay comfortable and hate the world and be shy than to try and make friends. But I honestly dont like kids at my school. There are people my age on like twitter I’ve met that I get along with. But for the most part I get along with people in their 20s. I have always gotten along with people older then me….anyways…getting off track
How do I just get used to going it alone if that’s what I prefer and stop being so paranoid and pissed off at everyone? My parents are against me taking any type of medication even though my therapist and doctor recommend it.
I took it apart ( dumbass me ) &’ it started beeping .. Why did it do this ? I opened my window and it didn’t go off , I’m scared that when I go out my window .. It will be a sensor and go off . No my parents don’t set the alarm at night (:
OK so I have been writing this story just for fun. Some of my friends have read it and they tell me it is really good, but I don’t know if that’s just because they don’t want to hurt my feelings or if they mean it. It is a story about this 16 yr old girl (Rebecca) living in NY, and she realizes that she is missing (she was abducted by her parents at a young age, too young for her to remember this). The whole story is about her trying to find her family. Tell me what you think about what I have written so far! (Note that I am only 13, and this is some of my best writing ever.)
Prologue
My head was pounding. This isn’t even possible. Not logical. I mean really, how much sense does that make? I go to the grocery store, and apparently I’m missing? Lost? Yeah, sure. Society expects me to believe that…that my "parents" aren’t really my rightful guardians?
My conscience tried to give a reasonable, common-sense-in-mind solution. Maybe its not you. So she looks kinda similar. This is not something you should be worked up about. Just find a way to calm down and relax. This girl doesn’t even look like you did when you were her age. Which is what, 3, maybe? It doesn’t matter.
I tried to listen and refrain from screaming. I probably already looked like an idiot, standing at the Missing Children center of the local grocery store, gawking at a picture of someone who I thought was myself. But how could any part of my being be saying that? Oh, it doesn’t matter! So what if she looks a LOT like you, and shares your name? The picture that is supposed to show you what you look like when you’re older even kinda looks like me! How can I still think that everything I’ve ever been told isn’t a lie? Am I also one of twenty kids? Am I some special "chosen one" in another universe? I can’t even bear to think about what my God-given name is.
Now, those of you reading this probably think I am delusional, or insane, or am some crazy psychopath. And I wouldn’t blame you if you thought that. But you must believe me. This is only the beginning of the nightmare I realized I couldn’t wake up from. Pinching would get me nowhere.
"Rebecca? Can we go now? We promised Mommy we would make breakfast! We have to leave now!" my brother Cody said, pulling on my shirt.
Cody had to drag me to our car and put the keys in the ignition so we could return home. If he hadn’t, not only would I have looked stupid, but we wouldn’t have made it home.
Chapter One
And here my story begins.
Or does it start here? That I still can’t figure out. I’m still a bit discombobulated from the shell shock of not knowing my family that really is of blood relation to me.
Maybe if I can crawl out of my hysterics I can tell you my story. The weird, well, weirdest I guess, part of this is that I hadn’t figured this out. They had pulled off their delicate, intricate plan in such a way that I would never have the slightest clue. Sure, I guess I kind of went along with it a bit too well, never asking to see my birth certificate, verify my Social Security number. It’s not like that wouldn’t have made them suspicious from the get-go. I had been told so many times that I had shared such a close resemblance to my "mother", or so she wanted me to think. Friends of mine had told me that they could never decipher the voices on the other end of the phone line when they called.
You don’t have any proof. Maybe it’s a nightmare. Clearly the irony of the situation could only be portrayed in a dream, the voice said. You’ll wake up Sunday morning, realize it’s the 30th of November, and that this is all…I tuned my conscience out. I couldn’t bear to speak of it, especially when I was racking my brain trying to figure out who I really must be, if I have even a faint memory of my parents’ smile, their persona, charm… what am I saying? This is crazy! I would have remembered the changes I went through, the life I left behind for what I have now, the one that I am trying to remember is the only one I’ve ever had.
I woke up to the sound of my cell phone’s alarm blaring, my eyelids barely maintaining the ability to remain open. I swatted blindly at my empty desk where I assumed my cell phone would be to find it dangling by its charger cord. Once I was too bored to continue sitting with nothing to occupy the time I often waste, I put my feet on the ground and walked out of my room toward the kitchen. I grabbed my usual piece of almost-burnt toast and walked into the 17° air of Glens Falls, the city I loved more than anywhere in the world. Not for any stupid meaningful reason, just because I had never heard of a place greater than this.
I ran out to the mailbox, insanely enough, to realize that mail didn’t come this early in the morning, and hurried inside to sit by the fire, my feet numb with the frigid atmosphere. I stopped myself b
I called them for my parents twice in the past three years.I found their conditions poor-dirty clothes left on them three days, over flowing trash, filthy,no sheets on bed, no fresh water, financial exploitation,no good medical care and on and on. Would you be as angry as I am?
There is some people going around saying their from Honeywell and they’re selling alarm systems. I’ve heard that some people have been burgalarized almost right after this phony sales person comes to their homes. One of my dads friends was burgalarized last night. He had the phony sales person come up to his door yesterday, and he was burgalarized last night.
I’d watch for a beat up late model van with a trailer.
People wearing light blue polo shirts.
They don’t have business cards, or any identification. I’d watch for these people.
Lock your back doors and windows becasue that’s how they get in. Of course lock your entire house.
If you live near the airport and you just had new windows installed by the FAA look out. These phonys are looking specifically into these homes.
That’s how my parents house was almost hit. When he came up to the door he said "since you have new windows, you should consider new alarm systems"
Watch out.
Prologue
At a young age, both of Drico’s parents abandoned him and left him at an orphan shelter. One day, his grandfather finally found him, taking him away. His grandfather Toshiro was a very wise man who taught Drico many things, including the art of combat. Then one night, his grandfather was murdered by another clan. The reason was unknown. Toshiro had known that they would come and moments before they arrived, he hid Drico.
“Listen, Drico, no matter what happens, you will stay hidden in here. Understood?” said Toshiro
“Yes, grandfather.” replied Drico. Twenty minutes passed, but Toshiro didn’t return. Drico opened the closet and walked downstairs.
“Grandfather!” yelled Drico but nobody answered. Drico kept walking down the stairs until he suddenly froze. With his eyes wide open he saw his grandfather laid on the ground covered in blood.
“Drico…” whispered Toshiro.
“Grandfather!” cried Drico. “Ta…take this” replied Toshiro. He handed him a crystal.
“Grandfather, who did this?” said Drico, angrily.
But it was no use. Toshiro had died. Ever since that day, Drico sought revenge against the person who killed his grandfather.
Chapter 1
7 years had passed since that tragic night. Drico is now 15 years old. It’s around 7am and Drico is walking to school. He walks inside his classroom and sits down.
“You’re here early today” said Ms. Yuri.
“Yeah” murmured Drico as he starts to listen to his iPod.
10 minutes have passed and the classroom is full of students. Drico removes his earphones and takes out a notebook.
“Hey man, can you lend me a pencil?” said a male voice. Drico turned to see a blond-haired guy with dark green eyes.
“You’re still as lazy as you were last year, Hitaro.” said another girl. Her name was Mitsuki. She had shiny dark blue hair and midnight black eyes. Drico handed Hitaro a pencil.
“Yea whatever” replied Hitaro. “Drico, you should join us for lunch.”
“Alright, I will” replied Drico.
A few hours later, school was over. As Drico walked back home he noticed a short kid with glasses get jumped by 3 guys. Drico took off his backpack and rushed to the kid’s aid. Drico knocks them all out with little effort, thanks to his combat skills. Drico picked up the boy’s glasses.
“Here. I believe these are yours.” said Drico, handing the glasses to the boy.
“Thanks a lot. By the way, I’m Inaku.” He said, smiling.
“Well, I’ve got to go. See you around, Inaku.” said Drico. He picked up his backpack and walked away.
The next day at lunch, Drico sat down with Hitaro and Mitsuki. He looks at another table to see a senior messing around with a freshman.
“Someone should do something” said Drico, angry at the bully.
“No, Drico.” replied Hitaro. “It’s best if you don’t meet his eyes.”
“Drico, you should really stop staring at him like that.” said Mitsuki, worriedly.
“He’s walking over here now!” shrieked Hitaro.
“What the **** are you punks staring at me for?” snarled the senior. His name was Goru, and he was a big, muscular senior who was on the varsity football team. “Who’s that little ***** over there?” he asked, leering at Mitsuki. She squeaked, nervously.
“Just leave us alone.” replied Hitaro. Goru smirked and walked away.
“Apologise!” yelled Drico. Goru turned around and walk back to Drico. “Apologize to Mitsuki!” Drico stood up.
“Drico… No…” mumbled Mitsuki. Goru took 2 steps and gave Drico an icy stare
“You better sit your *** down before I knock you out.” Goru faked a punch but Drico didn’t flinch. “This little punk thinks he’s hard!” roared Goru as he threw a punch at Drico’s face. Drico blocked the first punch, grabbed Goru’s hand and flipped him on the table. The table broke in half and before Goru could get back up they were both surrounded by security guards.
Drico finally arrived back at home.
“You’re home early” said his guardian, Matsume, as Drico opened the door.
“I got suspended for the day.” replied Drico.
“School just started and you’re already getting into trouble!” said Matsume.
“Whatever.” murmured Drico as he walked past, grabbed the remote, and turned on the television. “Have you been contacted by any strange people lately?” said Matsume.
“No, why?” said Drico.
“Never mind.” replied Matsume as he walked up the stairs.
Later that night Drico gets a phone call.
“Who’s this?”
“Don’t worry about it, but we’ve got one of your friends.” replied the unknown caller.
“This is Mitsuki’s phone number!” exclaimed Drico “Where is she?!”
“Don’t even think about calling the cops.” replied the unknown caller. “If you want your friend then meet us on the alley near 32nd street in 10 minutes.” Said the mystery caller. The line went dead. Drico stared at the phone in disbelief.
Prologue
At a young age, both of Drico’s parents abandoned him and left him at an orphan shelter. One day, his grandfather finally found him, taking him away. His grandfather Toshiro was a very wise man who taught Drico many things, including the art of combat. Then one night, his grandfather was murdered by another clan. The reason was unknown. Toshiro had known that they would come and moments before they arrived, he hid Drico.
“Listen, Drico, no matter what happens, you will stay hidden in here. Understood?” said Toshiro
“Yes, grandfather.” replied Drico. Twenty minutes passed, but Toshiro didn’t return. Drico opened the closet and walked downstairs.
“Grandfather!” yelled Drico but nobody answered. Drico kept walking down the stairs until he suddenly froze. With his eyes wide open he saw his grandfather laid on the ground covered in blood.
“Drico…” whispered Toshiro.
“Grandfather!” cried Drico. “Ta…take this” replied Toshiro. He handed him a crystal.
“Grandfather, who did this?” said Drico, angrily.
But it was no use. Toshiro had died. Ever since that day, Drico sought revenge against the person who killed his grandfather.
Chapter 1
7 years had passed since that tragic night. Drico is now 15 years old. It’s around 7am and Drico is walking to school. He walks inside his classroom and sits down.
“You’re here early today” said Ms. Yuri.
“Yeah” murmured Drico as he starts to listen to his iPod.
10 minutes have passed and the classroom is full of students. Drico removes his earphones and takes out a notebook.
“Hey man, can you lend me a pencil?” said a male voice. Drico turned to see a blond-haired guy with dark green eyes.
“You’re still as lazy as you were last year, Hitaro.” said another girl. Her name was Mitsuki. She had shiny dark blue hair and midnight black eyes. Drico handed Hitaro a pencil.
“Yea whatever” replied Hitaro. “Drico, you should join us for lunch.”
“Alright, I will” replied Drico.
A few hours later, school was over. As Drico walked back home he noticed a short kid with glasses get jumped by 3 guys. Drico took off his backpack and rushed to the kid’s aid. Drico knocks them all out with little effort, thanks to his combat skills. Drico picked up the boy’s glasses.
“Here. I believe these are yours.” said Drico, handing the glasses to the boy.
“Thanks a lot. By the way, I’m Inaku.” He said, smiling.
“Well, I’ve got to go. See you around, Inaku.” said Drico. He picked up his backpack and walked away.
The next day at lunch, Drico sat down with Hitaro and Mitsuki. He looks at another table to see a senior messing around with a freshman.
“Someone should do something” said Drico, angry at the bully.
“No, Drico.” replied Hitaro. “It’s best if you don’t meet his eyes.”
“Drico, you should really stop staring at him like that.” said Mitsuki, worriedly.
“He’s walking over here now!” shrieked Hitaro.
“What the **** are you punks staring at me for?” snarled the senior. His name was Goru, and he was a big, muscular senior who was on the varsity football team. “Who’s that little ***** over there?” he asked, leering at Mitsuki. She squeaked, nervously.
“Just leave us alone.” replied Hitaro. Goru smirked and walked away.
“Apologise!” yelled Drico. Goru turned around and walk back to Drico. “Apologize to Mitsuki!” Drico stood up.
“Drico… No…” mumbled Mitsuki. Goru took 2 steps and gave Drico an icy stare
“You better sit your *** down before I knock you out.” Goru faked a punch but Drico didn’t flinch. “This little punk thinks he’s hard!” roared Goru as he threw a punch at Drico’s face. Drico blocked the first punch, grabbed Goru’s hand and flipped him on the table. The table broke in half and before Goru could get back up they were both surrounded by security guards.
Drico finally arrived back at home.
“You’re home early” said his guardian, Matsume, as Drico opened the door.
“I got suspended for the day.” replied Drico.
“School just started and you’re already getting into trouble!” said Matsume.
“Whatever.” murmured Drico as he walked past, grabbed the remote, and turned on the television. “Have you been contacted by any strange people lately?” said Matsume.
“No, why?” said Drico.
“Never mind.” replied Matsume as he walked up the stairs.
Later that night Drico gets a phone call.
“Who’s this?”
“Don’t worry about it, but we’ve got one of your friends.” replied the unknown caller.
“This is Mitsuki’s phone number!” exclaimed Drico “Where is she?!”
“Don’t even think about calling the cops.” replied the unknown caller. “If you want your friend then meet us on the alley near 32nd street in 10 minutes.” Said the mystery caller. The line went dead. Drico stared at the phone in disbelief.
Yes, it’s very realistic for an 8 year old to desire revenge. I’ve seen many stories with plots in resemblance to that.
Yes, it’s very realistic for an 8 year old to desire revenge. I’ve seen many stories with plots in resemblance to that.
Art of combat could be mastered within a couple of months. By anyways, thank you. I appreciate your constructive critism.
Art of combat could be mastered within a couple of months. By anyways, thank you. I appreciate your constructive critism.