This story is part of the author’s Heavensville series of interrelated stories. If you enjoy it, the author invites you to click here to read the other tales in the series. Heavensville was stunning to look at, with tall and lush trees lining the sidewalks, beautiful forests and lakes surrounding almost […]
“No, I’m going to stay in. It’s been a long day and the most I intend to do tonight is hand out candy.” “Lame. Look, just for once, ignore your spinster instincts and come to Jackson’s. We’ll get sloppy drunk and play strip Twister.” “Sounds like a blast.” “I already
I noticed it almost immediately. The phenomenon began one day while I was still an undergrad in college. My alarm went off, and I grudgingly let it ring for few seconds before ending it, yanking the covers off my body, and pulling myself out of bed. I had only gotten
I found it three weeks ago, or rather, I found them. A knotted circle of fur, claws, and death. Six rats, tangled together by their tails, thrashed about my front lawn with little direction. Their shrieks pierced the air of what was normally a quiet street. I was going outside
I Met the Rat King Read More »
My friend and I have always known not to go into the woods around my house at night. I live in a really, really rural area. Like, the nearest house is about a mile away kind of rural. I love it; I grew up in suburban areas, so living somewhere so far
I just got this sweet little job over on the Northside. It’s too cool; I sit with this old lady from the evening to early morning. I don’t like to party and all that, so I don’t mind. I get there and feed her through the feeding tube and I
What do people usually fear when moving out to live on their own? What sort of problems does one normally encounter when finally venturing from the safety of their parents’ home, into a place of their own? Perhaps it’s paying their rent on time, or having to do all
Serial killers have always fascinated me. Ever since I was a kid, I’ve found myself both scared and intrigued by psychos like Ted Bundy or Clementine Barnabet. And as I grew older, my interest only increased. I was from Atlanta. Growing up in lower-class Latino neighborhoods, I’d seen crime all
The Sunnyside Murders Read More »
My weakness was always power. I don’t mean that in an inspirational way you might find in fairy tales or The Children’s Book of Virtues. I mean it literally: I will do anything for power. Anything. And I did. I suppose my attraction to power stems from my miserable start in life.
The First Night of Christmas is for Special People Read More »
I’m writing this while I still have control of my body. There needs to be a record of what’s happening to me, so if it happens to you, at least you’ll know—you’re not alone. I can’t explain what’s going on. I can’t offer any answers. But I can give you this warning—OBEY THE PATTERN. If it comes, whatever the pattern tells you—do it. Or you’ll end up like me.
My son, Samuel, was Superman. At least he thought so while I held his light eight-year-old body over my head as we ran through our home. Even though Samuel was born deaf I still made swoosh noises for my own entertainment. His unique laughs filled each room we “flew” through.
You know that feeling you get when you eat too much? That uncomfortable pressure that just makes your throat feel like a pipe ready to burst? I wish I could feel that. Stuffed, full. I’ve never said the words, “I can’t eat another bite.” I always could. Bite after bite
“In the morning, she goes to wake her friend, so she won’t be late for class. She doesn’t realize right away why her friend isn’t answering, why she’s not getting up. Then she pulls back the blanket. Her friend’s throat has been cut open so deeply that her head
The first time you meet your girlfriend’s family is extremely important. Maybe they will become your family too. You have to be funny and charming, but not too funny or to charming that it seems unnatural. You don’t want to be a faker or bootlicker. When I was about to
A Very Special Christmas Supper Read More »
Everyone has their fears, whether they are rational or irrational. Mine has always been dolls. Not all dolls, mainly just the ones that are a bit too human. I think it’s mainly the eyes that get to me. So I’m sure you can imagine I was ecstatic to find out
I’ve Always Hated Dolls Read More »
My son is 2 years old and does. Not. Sleep. So when I saw an ad online for Goodnight Precious: the only book GUARANTEED put your child to sleep, I clicked. I was skeptical — but there was a video demonstration on the website. “I’m going to show you how this works.
Goodnight Precious Read More »
Scratching an itch on my back, I found a hollow the size of a tack head. At my bathroom mirror I rolled my shoulder forward. Next to my shoulder blade, on my upper middle back, was a tiny hole. No plug, like a normal blackhead, but a deep hole. I watched my finger in the mirror, prodding it.
My parents own a Santa animatronic. I think it tried to kill us. Now, I know what you might be thinking. This story already sounds like a kid’s overactive imagination during a season that relies on the magic of imagination. I don’t mean to oversell it either, this wasn’t some
Better Watch Out, Better Not Cry Read More »
White. That was Jim’s world. The walls were white, the floor was white, the orderlies wore white. It was an upsetting, all-encompassing white which left him feeling a little dizzy. And there wasn’t much for him to do besides be absorbed in it. Occasionally, the sounds of crying or screaming
Madness and Mockingbirds Read More »
It’s quiet. There is no sound. No light. Nothing but the darkness. I am asleep… or at least… I think I am. I begin to hear a noise, a faint whistling sound. It grows louder and louder. I open my eyes and I’m on a beach, the waves crashing along
This is But a Memory Read More »
I missed the scorching wind of Andalusia. How it pours sunlight onto your face, toying with eyelashes, flattening dry sand against cheeks and milling around hair. I missed the smell of the valley and that ripening softness of Muscat fluff glistening in the afternoon breeze. From up here, I can
Have you ever been influenced by clothing? I don’t mean confidence by looks. Have you ever been given more control than ever by an item, or a truth, or just a favorite shirt? Have you ever been influenced in the worst way? By showing the truth? The following is taken
Hoodie (The Hooded Man) Read More »
This is not meant to scare anyone. Calling it a creepy story would be a bit of an insult, because it isn’t one. This is an expression of gratitude toward a friend, a friend who was always there for me. He watched over me as I was growing up and
The long road home seemed to go on and on. The road continued to stretch in front of the vehicle endlessly. The light that shone through the branches of the tall, green trees danced across the window in random patterns, and every once and a while, obnoxiously shining in your
