That’s what we called it. The idiot mile. We used to think it sounded cool, but the adults talked about it and hyped it up so much that we just got a bit sick of the idea, and started calling it that. I grew up in a small village, secluded […]
To begin with, my name is Samuel Terrence. I was a college dropout living a pretty sad life with my parents until a blackout that occurred in 2014.I recently posted a journal entry titled ‘Blackout – 8/15/14’ that detailed a handful of weeks that would be the beginning of a
I was four years old the first time I saw the God in the Gutter. The memory didn’t form until my mother mentioned that one summer I started shrieking while on a walk. When prompted I pointed to a storm drain and said I didn’t like the man peeking out.
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The Advertisement“Lookout wanted. For more information, call 1-800-200-2230” My eyes scanned the sentence thoroughly. The ad intrigued me, I never was one meant for city life. However, for the past four years that’s exactly what my life had been. Just another cog in the machine, wasting away at a desk
I woke up sweaty and in a daze. Most nights this is normal for me but not tonight. Something about my bedroom was odd, something wasn’t right. I felt around next to me and grabbed my phone and checked the time – it’s midnight. Seven more hours of sleep before
The Front Porch Light Read More »
Mike and his mother Sarah lived in a sharply white two-story house about eight miles from the city and half a mile away from a red diner which worked throughout the week and the weekend. The house was adjacent to naught else but the road and the forest. Mike was
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‘Must you have battle in your heart forever?The bloody toil of combat?Old contender, will you not yield to the immortal gods?This nightmare cannot die, being eternal evil itself.The horror, pain and chaos.There is no fighting it.No power can fight it.All that avails is flight.’ -The Odyssey. Dear James,I write to
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Rollercoasters. I hated them. I always did. When it came to school trips to the local theme parks, I always sat them out. I could enjoy the lazy rapids or the log flumes, the tilt-a-whirls or the space wheels; anything with a bit of height to feel the light breeze
It was night and gloomy and somber and serene. There was the wardrobe in front of me and on its higher corners dust had gathered and yet within the somberness the wooden fabric seemed to stretch out cosmically, darkly away. I was sitting and looking at my computer when I
A Million Tinges of Red – NGC 1569 Read More »
The first time I visited the Otherworld was when I was eleven. One moment I’d been having some peaceful dream I hardly remember, and the next, I was shooting up in bed with a gasp.I pulled my blanket tighter around myself as I looked around uneasily. Something was wrong. The
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My vision was hazy. I could feel warm liquid trickling down my forehead as I attempted to lift my head. The car’s blinker thundered inside of me like a heavy bass. I tasted the blood inside of my mouth, and the coolness of the night seeped into the cracks and
Robert never came to the beach when his friends and family invited him – for a swim, for a picnic, for a party – and so they stopped asking. He didn’t hate the sea. It was more complicated than that; he was a poor swimmer, true, and justly afraid of
Melody wakes up screaming. It’s midnight. Her body jolts up. Eyes shut tight; mouth open wide. Screams rip from her throat. They turn into sobs as Buster jumps onto the bed. He nestles his head in by her side, purring and watching her catch her breath. “You’re okay,” she says.
I was told I shouldn’t write this. My friends, those few that I have left, tell me it will be embarrassing, a public declaration of my mental illness. My father, dry as ever, reminded me that it would contradict my sworn testimony in court. And for my part, I know
Charlotte woke early in the morning on April 25th, 1678. She rose from bed, brushed her usual mess of blonde hair, and put on her favorite red dress and matching red shoes. She had always loved the beauty of the color red, the vivid hue of roses and red cardinal
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It was a stormy night on Welkes Street. The street sign creaked back and forth as the wind blew past it. Heavy rain water flowed into drains on every corner as debris from trees was picked up and whisked away. Toby Forest sat on his bed, watching the rain beat
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The mirror showed a reflection that wasn’t my own. It happened the first time a couple of days ago at the restaurant, and I’d hardly caught it during a brief glance while I quickly washed my hands. It was in the eyes, something about the eyes. Not the normal brown
Uncle Marsh had always been the black sheep of our family. A thorn in my father’s side and a constant reminder of how corrupt and decayed our ancestral roots truly were. Sebastian Fredrick Marsh was my mother’s elder brother. A genetic throw-back, a deviant, and if the rumours surrounding him
It was a minute past midnight on a humid August Saturday in Manhattan, and Adrian DeCaux sat alone in his office. From twelve stories below, he could hear the drunken yelling of the night. From what he could hear, the crowd on the sidewalk below was in good spirits. There
For as far back as I can remember, my family has always lived in and around Innsbrook. This peaceful little suburb outside of Richmond has a lot of history and charm. With a population of less than 10,000, this is a place where you are only a degree or two
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Have you ever had a dream where- hold on. Scratch that. That’s not what this is about… dreams. Dreams aren’t real. Memories are real. I used to think that dreams were just memories we hadn’t made yet. I don’t think that anymore. The reason is because the particular dream I’d
I Used to Have Two Bodies Read More »
Dreams are a wholly different experience depending on who you ask. Some claim to have bizarre and vivid experiences every night; others say they don’t dream at all. If you were to ask me, I’d say it’s not so black-and-white. That, I’m somewhere between the two extremes – though I
I’ve been dreaming things I shouldn’t Read More »
Nothing and no one lived in the house. Nothing except the creeping moss and the attic spiders. No sounds of mirth emanated from within, no did lights of joviality come forth from its large grey windows. For all intents and purposes, it was as silent and welcoming as the grave.
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“This is a matchmaking service?” asked the doctor, a concerned look on his face. “This is the Garden of Eden,” replied his host with a smile. The doctor looked around the room with a raised eyebrow and growing discomfort. The elaborate advertisement for the service promising to “find your perfect
