We first set foot into this forest yesterday evening after spending just over an hour and a half making our journey. It was one of those evenings where the many Jet-Trails amongst the twilight sky had blended into light orange and pink among the distant orange and black horizon that […]
The Well in the Forest Read More »
It was about a year ago, in June of 1928, that I entered the New England convalescent’s home where I sit writing this missive. I do not wish to record its exact location, for if this manuscript somehow reaches the outside world I do not want unsavory and foolish callers
The Missive of Jeriah Dowd Read More »
A few months ago I was busy preparing to move to a new house when I came across something from my past. I was going through my belongings, trying to figure out what to keep and what to discard, when I found an old shoebox stuffed down the back of
Metroid 2: Secret Worlds Read More »
Okay, so I’m not going to start with one of those disclaimers where the writer assures you that what you’re reading is true. It really doesn’t matter if you believe this. No one does. I just want to write it down before I convince myself that it wasn’t real, in
Darkness surrounds me. And cold. And emptiness. I lay in this void not knowing how long I have lain here, and in the initial grogginess of my awakening I know not why I am here. I turn my gaze from side to side, but can see nothing in the enveloping
The stiff autumn wind bullied brittle leaves across the sidewalk and into the empty street on Angela’s way home from the daycare center. She wrapped her too-thin cardigan tightly around her as the leaves were marched swiftly to the opposite curb. Their colors had drained from bright fingerpaint yellows, oranges,
Danza de los Muertos Read More »
Part 1 Transferring to a new school in the middle of the semester really sucks. First off, it’s a logistical nightmare jumping into the thick of seven new classes and getting caught up with all the material that may or may not have been covered in your old school. More
You lie on your bed, huddled under the covers with a fresh book from the library. Your eyes feel somewhat droopy but you are reluctant to put it down, the story too enticing to pause so you can sleep. It’s nearing the end anyway, you reason silently; not even thirty
I’m a sleepwalker. I’ve woken up on the floor, in the hedges outside, and half-hanging out of the refrigerator with orange juice spilled down the front of my shirt – just to name a few. Most of the time it would end in uncontrollable laughter for my two roommates, and
What’s in the Woods Read More »
I’m writing this down on my psychiatrist’s advice. She wants me to write as if I’m telling my story to a friend. Perhaps she’s right—maybe I do just need to let it all out. And what better way to do it than on a computer, away from prying eyes? After
August 1st marks the tenth anniversary of the day the hunters came, though none of my family celebrates this anniversary. I’m only telling this story because I owe it to those men who saved us that day. I’ll be honest. It was my fault. It was all my fault. Ten
My basement has never exactly been a welcoming place. It’s unfurnished; there’s no carpet and the walls consist of boring, exposed bricks. There’s a set of old wooden stairs on one end that creaks whenever anyone uses them. Behind the stairs is a storage area that begins about four or
Nightmares. I never really understood them because I never had them. This is why when I did, I was surprised. It was like all of the horrors of reality seeped into my brain with no way of getting out. At first, I didn’t even know they were nightmares. I would
He was an exceedingly average man. He had sometimes done good deeds and had sometimes done bad deeds. He had built up bad habits and good habits, neither outweighing the other. He was just average. If anyone had asked him he couldn’t have said why he decided to go through
“Yesterday upon the stair, I met a man who wasn’t there,” the man at the bar said to me, nursing a fresh two-fingers’ worth of Ketel vodka in a tumbler he cradled between his thick, calloused fingers. “‘He wasn’t there again today. Oh how I wish he’d go away,’” I
The Periphery People Read More »
I haven’t got much time left, but I’m going to try and write as much of this down as possible. right now I can hear it looking outside. It must have gotten Anthony too, making me the only one left. The story and events I am going to tell you
My sister has been gone for 25 years now, I think it’s finally time to tell her story. It was summer, my sister, Ella and I had barely lived on the farm 6 months. Our father was off in the military, having been gone about 2 years by this time,
What Happened to Ella Read More »
Everybody at one point has been scared by a younger/older sibling. I can pinpoint multiple times my younger brother has gave me a good jump. Yet the best scares I have ever received had to come from my older sister. Before we moved away from our childhood home in New
The Blanket Monster Read More »
When I was seven years old my ten year old brother Jamie was kidnapped, or so they say. The police claimed whoever had taken him were ‘professional’ in doing so. That I had been incredibly lucky to have not been taken as well. They described the kidnapper in this way
On the walls hung portraits of her family members who watched and made sure Evita didn’t cause any trouble when she was home alone. The same smile took over their faces in each one—the forced, wide, teeth-showing, nothing-can-ever-be-better smile—not exaggerated but fabricated. The three friends were sitting on the floor,
My hands shake as I write this. I’ve long given up any hope of anyone ever believing me, or offering me any form of meaningful help. All I can do is stay here and hope I never see it again. I don’t know why, but for some reason I’ve come
The Painting in the Mirror Read More »
“Mr Leaves was here” – those were the first words out of my daughter’s mouth that morning. I dismissed the chatter as normal for a seven year old girl. It didn’t seem strange to me that she would develop a new imaginary friend, especially under the circumstances; change can do
Many a sailor, no matter how brave and fearless, knows well how unpredictable and deadly the sea can be. Before every setting of the sails, a prayer goes throughout the crew, praying to God for the safety of their voyage. A wise man knows that prayers are not always answered
A Sailor Without Two Coins Read More »
Early one autumn morning, when the chill of the bitter New England air bit my lungs and skin through all the layers my mother forced me to wear, the girl next door and I made the long walk through our densely forested neighborhood to the bus stop. She, blonde, one
