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trauma

Close your eyes cover your ears

Close Your Eyes, Cover Your Ears.

Scientists theorize that if the brain experiences something extremely traumatizing, it is biologically hardwired to forget it. I can prove, through my own experiences, the invalidity of this claim. On September 22, 1998, my parents threw me my eighth birthday party. That was 16 years ago, but I can still […]

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The White Wolf of Woodberry

The White Wolf of Woodberry

Jack’s heavy footsteps crash across the muddy ground of the forest. His breath is heavy and ragged, having been running for what felt like hours. He was properly lost, having been totally turned around in the ambush. His father had warned him not to stray into the forest at night.

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leaving town

Leaving Town

My body floated through space. I was weightless, drifting towards the moon. As I got closer, I began to feel. First normal sensations. Then deep, extreme pain. With a loud crack, my eyes opened. A screaming metal grinding noise twisted my ear drums. The brightness of a glaring full moon

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prisonic fermata

Prisonic Fermata

On June 22nd, I returned to my hometown in the southern area of Alaska. My childhood home was falling apart, again. I bought it for fairly cheap. Despite ten years having passed since I last saw the neighborhood, it was still the worst part of town. I remember, when I

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dont go to wilhelm bridge there are wolves out here

Don’t go to Wilhelm Bridge. There are wolves out here.

It was around lunchtime when Noah and I arrived at the base of the hiking trail. He practically ejected himself from the car the moment we were no longer in motion. His enthusiasm was infectious. I retrieved our backpacks from the seat behind me and stepped outside as well. Noah

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notes in the dark

Notes In The Dark

Monday 28 December 18:00 I’m not sure how long humans are supposed to stay sane without human interaction but I’ve been doing alright so far I think. The silence is much worse anyway. The initial shock of it all was extremely unnerving though. After the panic attack and near mental

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Where Bad Kids Go

I must have been six or seven when I lived in Lebanon. The country was ravaged by war at the time, and murders were common and frequent. I remember during a particularly vicious era, when the bombings rarely stopped, I would stay at home sitting in front of my television

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