“I don’t want to talk. Really. I just want to go to bed,” she said, taking out her earrings. She hustled by him without making eye contact, tossed the mail on the dresser, and lightly brushed him away. He reflexively glanced at the scattered envelopes. Bills. What’s that one from
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I was 12 years old when I met my mother. We just moved into a new neighborhood. Autumn leaves began to dribble as my dad started to unpack our things. My brother, who was 4 at the time, was playing with his “Imaginary Friend” who he supposedly just met when
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Iron. Pure metal. Warm. Wet. Blood. A sharp, intense pain surged through my face as my brain slammed against the unforgiving strength of my skull. As the metallic taste of my own body fluid filled my mouth, I attempted to reopen my vigorously locked eyes. What? Eyelids finally reopening, they
Call me Bramwell Alden. I can’t give you my real name because my prick of a family is too well known. My ancestor William Alden came over on the Mayflower, and my grand aunt has been bragging about it since the day the boat landed on Plymouth goddamn Rock –
Thomas sat in the courtroom, wringing his hands anxiously. His eyes darted from the judge, to the jury, to his father. He hated his father. He needed to be thrown in prison. It’s where he belongs. Where he’s always belonged. They called Thomas up to his place as a witness.
I can still hear them. In the stillness of the night as I wait for the grasp of sleep to take me, the sighs start flooding in from all directions. At first, they’re so low that I think I must be imagining them, but gradually, they get louder. Eventually, the
“The Scornful” By Brandon Gulling Latvia SSR, 6 January, 1942 Johannes Wulf, M.D. My stomach aches and churns from hunger. I feel the acid slowly eating away at the lining, like lava carving a canyon through a mountain. Even the rats feel the pain of hunger, violently picking at
It all began the night the man in the black coat came to Graybark Drive. Looking back, Harrison Naylor might have found that odd, because it was also the night that the Collins’ house burned to the ground. But no, when he peeked through his blinds that night, all he
Day 0 As much as I despise having to type this, I’ve since come to terms with my wife’s suggestion. When I first told her of my assignment in the Arctic, she refused to let me leave. With time, she came to accept it, under one condition of course. She
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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
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The glare of the computer screen was the only light shining throughout the dimly lit room. Besides the sounds of quick, mechanical, keyboard clicking and an occasional finger tapping on a hardwood desk, the room was silent. A boy sat alone in the center of the room, running his hand
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In the wake of the 2016 American election, several changes occurred in the country. One of the more highly publicized and celebrated of these developments was California’s legalization of marijuana for recreational use. While the objective impact has thus far been quite subtle, a small number of people who live
Have you ever wondered, “what would it be like to be dead?” I’ll tell you. It’s not fun. My name is Seraphina Kightin, and this is the story of my death. Two years ago, I was murdered on November 21, 2015. To me it felt like the best day of
“Name?” the man sitting across from my asked. I coughed. My mind had been wandering again. The man looked at me patiently. “Name?” he repeated again. “Edwin,” I replied. “Edwin Stroud.” The man pursed his lips slightly as he checked the papers in front of him. “Occupation?” He asked. “Musician,”
She gave him the key as soon as he had walked in the door. It had been in a small box, wrapped up with a bow. He tried not to show his concern as he was acutely aware she was waiting expectantly for him to say something. “Well, what do
A little girl sat in her room. Her messy brown hair was put into little pigtails, as her hazel eyes stared at the door. She hugged her stuffed giraffe close to her little body and listened closely to the loud yells of her father and mother. “I never should have
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Janie awoke with a start, jerking out of her nightmare back into reality. She looked about her room reassuring herself with its familiarity. The feel of the cotton sheets that she had washed till they were as soft as silk, the scratchy blanket her grandmother had given her for her
Last year I spent six months participating in what I was told was a psychological experiment. I found an ad in my local paper looking for imaginative people looking to make good money, and since it was the only ad that week that I was remotely qualified for, I gave
I’m a first year resident at the local hospital, so I often work long hours and I’m always sleep-deprived. I do make decent money, if not nearly as much as a licensed doctor, but on account of student loans I live in a crappy apartment. The bedroom of this apartment
Jeff the Killer Origins and History You wake at 3AM. Disturbed by some subtle shifting sound within the room, just on the edge of hearing. Propping up on one arm you survey the room looking for some source for the noise, hoping beyond hope that you won’t find one. At
3/23/01 Due to the overwhelming number of requests I have received to tell about my discoveries and bizarre experiences in a cave not far from my home, I have created this web page. I will outline the events that happened to me during the past few months. Beginning with my journey
Let me start by saying that Peter Terry was addicted to heroin. We were friends in college and continued to be after I graduated. Notice that I said “I”. He dropped out after two years of barely cutting it. After I moved out of the dorms and into a small apartment, I didn’t see Peter as much. We would talk online every now and then (AIM was king in pre-Facebook years). There was a period where he wasn’t online for about five weeks straight. I wasn’t worried. He was a pretty notorious flake and drug addict, so I assumed he just stopped caring. Then one night I saw him log on. Before I could initiate a conversation, he sent me a message.
Lavender Town as seen in Red and Green The Lavender Town Syndrome (also known as “Lavender Town Tone” or “Lavender Town Suicides”) was a peak in suicides and illness of children between the ages of 7-12 shortly after the release of Pokémon Red and Green in Japan, back in February 27th,
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Sunday I’m not sure why I’m writing this down on paper and not on my computer. I guess I’ve just noticed some odd things. It’s not that I don’t trust the computer… I just… need to organize my thoughts. I need to get down all the details somewhere objective, somewhere
