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 »
I am from a small northern town in England. A place with a non-relenting gloom that surrounds the insignificance of the poor souls that live here. It always rains. The sodden clothes we wear only serve to weigh us down into an inescapable darkness, anchor us all into a depression
Dusk will find me in fits. A pinching feeling of dread washes over me as my eyes sweep across this room. Soft, low lights etch out details of a crew of sweet stuffed animals entrusted with the task of keeping watch over me as I sleep. The purity and nostalgia
As a child, I had always thought I knew what true fear was. The fear of something hiding under your bed, or in your closet. Hell, I thought clowns were the scariest shit there was. Of course, I hadn’t known the feeling of real fear; hadn’t experienced it, until I
Names. Words assigned to other human beings to identify them to their fellow human beings. We walk around every day, calling out to one another, using words of a specific language to address a chosen person. Even without knowing a person’s name, we still use them to direct our thoughts,
6:52 AM Another nightmare. I wake up in a pool of my own sweat. My heart is pounding and my brain feels like its going to break through my skull. Through the window the sun has just begun to rise, banishing the demons and the darkness of night back to
My fingers are still trembling. I have no idea what I should do now. How long has it been, maybe an hour and a half? All I know is, I can’t set foot in that apartment again. I’m typing this from the library. I have nowhere else from which to
One Isolated Incident Read More »
It is not with a high frequency that I am subject to nightmares. That being said there are times where, like any other person, I experience the rather disturbing scenarios that arise from the depths of my own mind. This particular sequence of events chilled me to the bone however.
When I was 5, I had a best friend. Lucas was his name. He and I were practically inseparable. We’d sit next to each other in class, we’d hang out at recess and lunch in the school yard, he’d always come over and visit after school and on the weekend,
This is me. I’m here. I’m shifting the words that you’re reading, altering them from whatever this person wrote. I’ve been here for awhile. For as long as you can remember, anyway. Sometimes I say your name as you’re falling asleep, or whisper urgently in your ear. Do you remember
This Isn’t A Story Read More »
Have you ever had one of those dreams, where you dream you’re doing something, only to wake up and realize you’re almost acting out your dream in real time? The most common instance of this is the ‘it’s completely normal’ wet dream, though there are many other common instances, especially
This is an entry in the ongoing Mark of Canus pasta series. Two concepts exist in our world, the natural, and the supernatural. Humanity actively sees and understands the natural, as we progress in science and mathematics, but most of us refuse to observe the existence of the supernatural, as
Chronicles of the Mark #1: The Crazy Place Read More »
There are some things that are not part of the world of the living; questions that should never be answered, places that should never be discovered. But there will always be fools who will try to. And those who do, suffer a fate worse than death. Worse than any torture
I used to think nightmares were fun, so I asked for more. They were the only source of excitement in my endless rut of a life. I never used to get nightmares, and for that, I should have been grateful. I wasn’t. I wished for more, I craved the adrenaline
I’m not sure why I’m writing this right now. I’m not even sure if I am writing this now or, if I am, whether the words I’m seeing in my mind’s eye are the same as the words my hands are typing. I suppose the only way to find out
I awoke to the sound of thunder rumbling in the distance. I smiled to myself, relishing the quasi-rational excuse to sleep in. I could see light through my closed eyelids, and hear the seagulls squawking nearby. If it wasn’t about to rain, I would probably encourage myself to get up
Just Your Average Night By Julie Oliver “Ok, time for bed” … is what I said to the empty living-room. It was getting late, and the internet no longer amused me. I picked up my cell phone, rooted through the couch cushions until I located the remote, and turned off
Just Your Average Night Read More »
As I entered the facility, I could all but bite down the aggravating anxiety that arose from my gut as I approached the main desk. The receptionist who resided behind it glanced up with a half-hearted smile. “Hello,” I began rather foolishly, “I’m here for the dream weaver experiment; I
The first to go was my sight. When thinking of the experiment in my mind, I was hoping that my sight would be one of the last senses to switch off. I wasn’t sure if the drug shut them off in an order, or if it was more of a
“Oh! that my young life were a lasting dream! My spirit not awakening, till the beam Of an Eternity should bring the morrow.” -Edgar Allan Poe In a dream Joseph saw himself sleeping. His twelve year old body tucked in a thick comforter, on top of his old hand me
I awoke that night to Echo, my dog, barking up a storm. He was perched on the edge of my bed, facing the door and yapping away like crazy. I scratched him behind the ear to get him to calm down and guided him to his usual spot on my
Logical Explanations Read More »
At the incessant crash and rumble of the storm outside, you jolt awake, shaking off the tendrils of confusing, light dozes. Your bed is positioned by the windows that you forgot to close; slashes of lighting illuminate your untidy room, spatters of rain fly in. You go to close it
Don’t Turn Your Back Read More »
The notion that our existence was crafted so eloquently without the guiding hand of a supreme being is equally as indigestible as that of an omnipotent, omnipresent God. I have always believed this uncomfortable paradox was the catalyst for my pursuit into the study of the human mind. What secrets
ORANGE THREE _________________ PART ONE The red fabric seats held nothing but dust. That made him uneasy. He didn’t know what to expect, but he did expect someone. The letter told him the exam would be held the following day, at the old theater, and that he should take a
