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A Demon Named Frank

My son, Richie, was almost 3 years old with beautifully thick and curly brown hair that seemed to hang in place flawlessly without any serious effort. He was a growing, healthy, and happy child, with a rapidly developing vocabulary, as any parent would hope for. That, however, was before Frank …

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I Followed Her Home

For months, I caught glimpses of Claira from the safety of my cubical. So beautiful, faultless. Through innocent eavesdropping and pattern recall, I unknowingly learned almost every detail of her life; when she had lunch, who her friends were, and where she would be at any given moment of the …

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My Mother’s Death Still Haunts Me

August 4th, 1983; my mother is killed in a head-on collision by a drunk driver. The intoxicated individual took a turn onto an off ramp and floored it down the wrong side of the highway. It was the dead of night, and at 1:37 a.m., this drunkard collided with my …

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