This was not a poetry assignment but it was constrained by design principles. There couldn't be just gore and horror. It had to be genuine shivers up the spine. While some people tripped into violence, the overall effect has some exciting moments.
Scary Story
I believe to be average, average income and averages looks. There’s nothing special about me, so when this beautiful successful women became attracted to me, I was shocked. I had many second thoughts about beginning a relationship with her, but a little voice in me said, “You will never have an opportunity like this again, go for it”. I listened to that little voice and eventually asked her out. When we would walked down the streets people would stare at us, I mean her, her long blonde hair, her slender body, her large blue eyes, she was perfect. I decided very early in our relationship that I wouldn’t let her go, she would be mine forever.
After a few months of dating she began to act weird, not calling, not coming over. As I was walking toward my car after work I felt a sharp pain in my head as if I had been struck in the head with a crowbar, as I looked around I saw her. My girlfriend was in the arms of another man. My fist started to shake my eyes started to see red, I became furious. I quickly entered my car and went home, she would pay for doing that to me, how could she betray me like that? On my way home I derived a plan, in which I would need a shovel, a sharp knife and many cleaning supplies. When I arrived home I got everything I needed and waited until she arrived home, which was normally around 9 o’clock. When the time had come I got in my car and drove to her house on the way I went over my plan, as I arrived I saw her kitchen light was on, I sneaked through the back. The smell of her famous pasta combined with her apple cinnamon air freshener surrounded the house. I sneaked behind her and quickly but quietly I stabbed her in the back. As the knife entered her body and bright red blood poured out, she shrieked, a sound I knew I would never forget. I repeatedly stabbed her until her lifeless body fell to her white and gold floor.
I dragged her body into my car as carefully and neatly as I could, considering the fact that she was bleeding tremendously. I went back to the house and cleaned all the blood with as much cleaning supplies as I had brought. I then drove to the farthest place I could think of, the desert. By the time I got there my whole car smelled of dried blood, yet I didn’t seem to mind it. I then began to dig a hole as deep as I could. I threw her and as a started to cover her with the dirt I thought, “She deserved it”. When I was finished I climbed into my car, turned the radio station to soft rock and began to drive home. When I arrived home I got into bed and fell into a heavy sleep. When I awoke the next morning I showered put on my suite and went to work, my usual routine.
A few days later her mom called the police because she hadn’t seen her or talked to her in a long time. After some time I began to see missing posters with her face on them all over town. How long would they take to find her I thought? The police came to question me one afternoon, I told them the truth I didn’t know where she was because I really didn’t remember where I had buried her. The days passed and no one suspected anything, I had gotten away with murder.
My dark suite covered all my impurities. In my face you saw sadness because my girlfriend had disappeared, but if you read my mind you would see happiness and glee. She cheated on me and I got payback. I had killed for jealousy because if I couldn’t have her no one would.
On a dark gloomy day as I was walking towards my car I heard a sharp noise, sounded like loud thunder. I started walking towards the noise and as I turned the corner I saw an old blue car approaching me fast. It stopped just inches away from my feet, I looked in the car, there she was, but it couldn’t be she was feet underground. Her face was pale with bright red eyes, the color of fresh strawberries. Her hair once beautiful and bright as the sun now looked more like the bottom of a broom. Her clothes looked as if she would have taken them out of a trash can behind the Salvation Army. All that ran through my mind was no, no it couldn’t be. She smiled this joker smile as if she was playing with me. She reversed quickly stopping and then accelerating even more than before, I quickly jumped out of the way, just in time before I got ran over. Terror hit me and I became paralyzed in the ground as if I had gotten run over. The car continued increasing its speed with every mile. I quickly jumped off the ground and ran to my car turning it on and began to drive home trying to forget what just happened, trying to pretend that was a dream.
As I drove into the driveway I noticed the garage door was halfway open. I stepped out of my car without turning it off in case I needed a quick getaway. I walked toward the garage slowly opening the door. Right in the middle of the floor was a plate of pasta and the walls were covered with bright red blood. I run out and quickly went to the front door, oddly it was still locked. That’s when I remembered, she had a key. I slowly opened the door, looking around, noticing that my brand new house was now trashed. Everything was broken; including my brand new plasma T.V which was now shattered into pieces, my brand new couch ripped in half. What was I to do call the police, what would I say; a dead woman I killed did this. I began to shiver as the house got cold, the stereo turned on, our song was playing. I remember the day we meet, danced all night laughing and enjoying ourselves; there was only happiness, no lies and no death. I walked around the house, towards the master bedroom; the bed was covered with red rose petals. My nose caught the smell of her perfume, the smell of wild flowers combined with paradise. Things could have been different I thought, we could have gotten married, her murder was her fault. At the corner of my eye I saw her refection in the mirror; I slowly turned around knowing this was the end. There she stood, her eyes no longer seemed sweet and compassionate, now they had hate and blankness.
She walks towards me, all I hoped is she did it quick. I began to float as if she was controlling me with her mind, I looked around and saw a rope properly tied, I had forgotten she was a girl scout. She placed my head inside the rope, as I hanged in the closet my life slowly slipping away. I realized my life was in the hands of the women I once loved. I now realized how much I regret killing her, was it because she was now killing me or because I truly did love her. I closed my eyes not wanting to look at her any longer. As my lungs no longer received oxygen I drifted away hoping I would receive forgiveness. When I reopened my eyes I thought I had died because all I saw was white walls and a bright light
Beep Beep Beep, are you awake sir? I open my eyes I see a nurse, what happened? The nurse said, you were run over after work, it was a hit and run, you’ve been in a coma for five months. I stare at the ceiling thinking, was it all a dream, I hear a shriek of happiness. I look at the door, her smile her fragrance her beautiful smile, thank goodness it was all a dream. Her golden blonde hair once again was bright like the sun. She was alive, I was alive, and we could live happily ever after.
...Patricia Gonzales
I heard a piercing scream. A scream so loud my ears could have bled. A
woman’s scream as if she was being dragged by heavy arms or beaten
with a baseball bat. I woke up instantly, sitting up full of anxiety,
shaking with terror. I looked around me frantically. Perhaps I had
accidently hurt my little cousin next to me while sleeping. Perhaps I
accidently went on top of her suffocating her. But I looked at her
next to me. She was fast asleep. How? What then? I heard the piercing
scream yanking at my ear drums, feeling as if they might explode. Who?
Could it be that someone broke in the house and my grandma or perhaps
mom tried to fight them off? Oh gods please help me. Please let them
be ok. I jumped off the bed as fast as my body would let me and I
rushed to my room door. As I hurriedly turned the gold doorknob, the
screaming ceased. I rushed to my moms’ bedroom. I yanked the door open
and turned on the light praying that she was ok. She woke up,
startled. “What the? Is everything ok?” she said as she rapidly sat
up, alert. I had no time to answer her. I ran to my grandmas’ room.
After what seemed eternity, running down the long hallway to her room
I burst the door open and turned the light on. Both my grandparents
suddenly jumped from their deep sleep, confused and frightened. “What
the hell is the matter with you?” cried my grandpa, furious. My mother
was now behind me, confused and scared. “Didn’t you hear the scream?”
I asked all of them. They all stared at me, confused. “We didn’t hear
anything. It must be a damn nightmare.” My grandpa said in an angry
voice. I looked at my grandma then at my mom. Both shook their heads.
“Go to sleep damn it. It’s almost midnight.”
Days passed, weeks passed, a couple months passed and I had forgotten
about the incident. I heard it again. This time it was louder. The
pain. The scream was piercing my ears. I felt as if a knife was
slicing them off the side of my face. The pain. I suddenly opened my
eyes. I heard the screams. This time it was more than one. It kept
multiplying each time getting louder and louder. I closed my eyes and
opened them again to make sure I was awake. I was. I tried to get up
but all of a sudden I became paralyzed. I felt something heavy pushing
me against the bead. Something was on top of me pushing at my chest. I
tried to get up again but I was stuck. I could not get up. I tried to
move my head to the left and right. What if someone was there? but I
couldn’t. It was as if someone was grabbing on to my head tightly in
place so that I wasn’t able to move. I looked ahead of me. I saw
nothing but my room just as I had left it. It wasn’t a dream. I saw
nothing ahead of me but I felt something on top of me. How? God help
me. I moved my eyes left and right to see if I saw anything. Nothing.
I then started to feel someone or something tugging at my leg. In the
background I still heard the screams. Loud, scratching. I thought to
myself damn it angelica do something, get up. Move. What if someone is
in the room trying to rape you. Reach for the glass bottle that’s next
to your bed. Smash the glass on his head. Damn it! Do something! I
started crying hysterically but even then I couldn’t move my face to
give any facial expressions. Tears were rushing through the corner of
my eyes soaking my pillow. The scream was hurting my ears. I couldn’t
think. I couldn’t move. Damn it Angelica. Damn it! Whatever was
tugging at my feet kept moving its fingers up and up just above my
knee. I looked at the ceiling. I heard the screaming. I felt pressure
and suddenly the ceiling began to move except it wasn’t moving. I was
moving. Whatever was on top of me was also dragging me across my bed.
My feet were now hanging off the bed now. Do something! I was gasping
for breath. Sharp pains in my chest, ears and my head were consuming
me.
All of a sudden I gasped for one last breath of air as I whirled my
body and sat up terrified! I ran to the light switch and flicked it. I
looked around hysterically, panting for breath searching the small
space of my room for anyone. No one.
That morning at school I told my friends what had happened to me. I
was at the part where I opened my eyes and Susie interrupted me,
rolling her eyes said “let me guess. You felt something on top of you
and you couldn’t breathe and you couldn’t move?” Amazed I cried “How
did you know?!” “Happened to my boyfriend’s mom. No one believed her.
She died a couple days later.” I sat there, wide eyed as chills ran
down my spine. “That is not true!” I screamed. “How did I know what
happened to you then?” she argued. I froze. After school I decided to
look it up. Whatever was happening to me was called sleep paralysis,
except pictures showed a demon on top of the person, on the persons
chest, glaring at them with the most vicious smile I have ever seen.
It was black, its body was blurry and it looked like death.
That night, before going to sleep I whispered to the silence in my
room “you won’t get me. I am not afraid of you.” I turned off the
light and lay down, afraid. All of a sudden I hear those screams
again. Panic consumed me as I searched the room frantically in the
night. I ran to the door and bust it open there. Standing there, in
the dark was that vicious smile.
...Angelica Flores
Perpendicular Parallels
It was June 7 and one of the most humid summer nights the Las Vegas strip would experience that year. Amy was a twenty-four year old professional blackjack player with auburn hair, always smelling of cinnamon, the perfect contrast to her forest green eyes and milky white complexion.
Amy was visiting Vegas, as she did every summer, with her boyfriend of the moment, an extremely capable card counter named Dale. The two had met about a month before their trip in Cash Creek casino in San Bruno, California.
On May 5 Amy was seated at a blackjack table, playing several hands before Dale joined. Decked out in her usual vintage black sequin dress, Amy also wore her favorite black Yves Saint Laurent patent leather heels, black Chanel sunglasses, with legs crossed as she casually sipped on her piña colada. Several hands later Dale joined the table, adorned in sky blue Levi’s, a red Ed Hardy shirt, black leather jacket, brown faux-leather cowboy boots, and brown suede cowboy style hat, his attention immediately shifted to Amy. He had no sunglasses, so his inviting brown eyes could not hide his obvious fascination with the fair-skinned siren. He stared at Amy for at least a minute before finally opting into the game. Each time her red lips touched the straw of her piña colada, Dale had to make an obvious shift in his seat. Finally directing his attention back on his hand, Dale matched the $20 minimum and tied his shoulder-length, semi-greasy wavy brown hair into a ponytail. He lost the hand but took notice of each card played in the game, eliminating it in his mind from any other hands that would be played until the cards were shuffled.
Amy, even under the protection of her sunglasses, had stolen a glance at Dale as he sat down, as well. He looked like a bad boy, motorcycle-driving pro that ravished women and stayed in motels between blackjack tournaments. When his attention was sufficiently shifted to his hand, Amy was able to take more notice of Dale’s abundant goatee and found herself dreaming of taking him home to play more after their hand that night.
After several games and winning a respectable 5k, Amy slowly got up and strategically left her red lipstick on the table as cashed in her chips. Following her to return the lipstick, Dale asked Amy how often she frequented the casino. After sharing more about herself, Amy invited Dale to share a cab with her where they both made it back to her apartment and Dale disclosed his real profession during pillow talk the next morning.
Now in Vegas, the two were juiced. The pair had created a mutual series of hand gestures to exchange for when Amy should raise and when she should fold. Dale would be playing the slots this time, five feet away, and watching each card as it entered into the game. After winning a collective $10,000 that night, both went back to their hotel room and Amy stepped out to make a phone call as Dale was refreshing himself with the hotel pay-per-view channels in anticipation for their upcoming nightly “exercise”.
“Genevieve Morrison, please remind me why you have fallen out of my life these past few months,” Amy playfully scolded her best friend.
“Ames, you know that I love you but I’ve been collecting the most insane amount of research about sea anemone regeneration for my dissertation. I could probably be able to completely dissect and reconfigure an anemone if I had to,” Gen laughed. “But yeah, Berkeley is no joke. I’m really trying to get into this fellowship at Stanford, so you know the drill,” Gen lamented. “Anyways, how has Vegas been going? Have any fresh meat with you?” Gen laughed.
“The same as every summer, wish you were here. The new guy’s name is Dale and he’s a great team player but he still calls to check in on his mom everyday,” Amy rolled her eyes. “I’d give him another month,” she laughed. “When are you going to get more serious with John already, haven’t you two been together for five years this December?” Amy asked.
“Well, we just don’t want to rush things, Ames, you know” Gen reasoned. “What if we don’t get into the same PhD program? I don’t know, I want to be more preoccupied with school than worry about a wedding yet. It’ll all fall into place eventually,” Gen reasoned.
Amy and Gen had been best friends since high school, both going to St. Andrew’s all-girl school in Boston and then going to Brown together. Amy, of course, was always the rebel who chose to use her engineering degree to aid her card-playing abilities. Gen, on the other hand, had always been outgoing and book-smart. She’d had a consistent 4.0 GPA since freshman year in high school and ultimately wanted to become a leading cancer biologist after getting her PhD and attending both Berkeley and Brown. Amy’s unsavory decision to make gambling her career sometimes worried Gen but in the end Gen knew that Amy knew what was best herself.
Gen’s hourly watch chime sounded as she told Amy about John’s studies and tied her shoelaces to go out for her nightly jog on the beach.
“But you know, Ames, we’re doing fine,” Gen smiled, “if he pops the question, you’ll be first to know,” she laughed. “So I’m going to go for a run before John gets home, keep me posted on how the trip with Dale is going, okay?” Gen sighed, not wanting to get off of the phone with her best friend.
“Alright, Gen, just don’t burn yourself out. Tell me if you get the fellowship, I’ll call you after the plane ride back next week,” Amy sighed, “Bye.”
Back at the hotel Dale was reassuring his gay nephew, Sam, that it was okay to be sexually active in high school.
“Sam, you love Adam and you’ve both been dating for over a year now. It’s going to be fine,” Dale reassured, “I always see you two making out whenever you’re over at my house anyway so just get it over with already,” Dale laughed, “just don’t forget: always use protection.”
Sam was a shy, 5’6, blonde-haired blue-eyed, honor roll student at his high school with Christian parents. Although his parents accepted his orientation, he only felt truly comfortable asking relationship advice from his Uncle Dale.
“But what if we’re not ready?” Sam worried. “I know that I love him, but is it too soon?” Sam sadly shook his head.
“Sam, it’s fine. You love each other and you both know that you’re in a serious, monogamous relationship,” Dale repeated, “he loves you, you love him, you’re ready. Just take your time and everything will be fine.”
“Okay Uncle Dale, you’re right,” Sam anxiously agreed, “I just want everything to be perfect, I’ll text you later tonight, okay? Bye.”
Sam hung up and descended the stairs to his car. He inserted the key in the ignition and drove over to Adam’s house. After honking for Adam to come out and kissing briefly as Adam entered the car, the two made idle conversation as Sam drove over to the famous “lookout point” on Glendale Boulevard.
“I missed you babe, how was dinner?” Adam, Sam’s 5’10 slender Jewish boyfriend, asked.
“Fine, just had mom’s chicken alfredo casserole,” Sam sighed. His heart felt like it was beating over 1000 miles per hour as his car finally stopped at their destination. He shifted the gear to park and switched off the car lights. “Are you nervous, honey?” Sam asked.
“No,” Adam smiled, “I love you and this honestly couldn’t be more perfect. The sky is perfectly clear, we can see the stars outside, and the full moon looks gorgeous on the water.”
Sam smiled. “Okay, well, here we go,” he hesitated as he leaned over to kiss Adam. The two effortlessly grabbed for each other and started kissing.
The car windows began to fog as the kissing became more intense, with the warm light of the moon providing the perfect romantic glow for the occasion. As the two started frenching, Adam kept his lips intertwined with Sam’s as he carefully slipped into the back seat and tugged the neckline of Sam’s shirt a little to motion for Sam to follow suit. With the kissing already getting pretty hot and heavy, Sam undid his seatbelt and crouched on the seat as Adam roughly pulled him onto his lap. The two lightly started grinding together while kissing.
While moving to the back, however, Sam’s foot had accidentally shifted the car into “drive” and although the two normally would have noticed the movement, the fogged windows, intense kissing, and unified motion of their hips in the car hid the movement until it was too late. The blue Subaru smashed through the guardrail and descended off the cliff to the sandy beach below.
Five minutes before, Gen was finally hitting her stride on her run as she began to sprint full out towards the end of the beach. Circling around at the end of the beach to run back to her apartment, and almost at the end of her run, Gen paused her iPod and shaded her eyes to look, too late, at a dark figure gradually getting nearer to her spot on the beach.
Just looking up, the weight of Sam’s blue Subaru smashed Gen’s body into the sand and Sam and Adam, still holding each other in the back seat realized too late what would happen to them. After falling about 10 feet they both stopped kissing and just held each other, panic racing across each other’s faces, as they crashed into the sand.
Gen, obviously, never got her fellowship, and Amy would end her first serious relationship ever, with Dale, by committing suicide they attended Gen’s funeral together. Little did Gen know, John was also coming home with roses and wine to finally ask for her hand in marriage that night. It’s funny, sometimes, how fate works. Just remember, to never venture outside during a full moon.
...Alyssa Capilli
The mind works in mysterious ways. Sometimes, it tells you you are dreaming when you are actually awake but sometimes your dreams intertwine with reality in such a way that you believe it and you can never wake up. This is what happened to Jimmy Andersen.
His world was filled with sadness, he had lost both his parents in a car crash and he was now living with an aunt. Her profession was a psychic. Her house always had that evergreen incense smell mixed with citrus herbs and something else you couldn’t quite place. It was a smell that made you feel like you had entered the supernatural where flying dragons, gnomes and other fairy creatures existed. There always seemed to be magic at work whenever you were in her presence and the creepiest thing was the inside of the house. It was a jungle in there. The stereotypical bead curtains where placed at room entrances, the lavender carpet was covered with all sorts of animalistic rugs, the orange drapes hanging loose on the windows seemed like goo dripping out from the mouth of an ogre, the stack of tarot cards lay on the ancient mahogany desk in the center of the living room and the walls were covered with either potions or unnatural paintings of significant disaster events that had occurred in the past. Of course, there were candles here and there and nearly all the furniture seemed to be from the 1500’s. So Jimmy really did not feel at home in this place. In fact, this aunt, aunt Jasmine, wasn’t even his aunt. She was the wife of his uncle, the brother of his Dad and they had divorced because aunt Jasmine became really obsessed with her job. Sometimes she works at home, people visit her so she can tell them about their future but there’s the occasional fair she goes to where she can also be herself and scare little kids from time to time.
Jimmy had talked to aunt Jasmine only about five times in the seventeen years that he’s been alive. She went to two family Christmas parties and when he first met her at one of them she seemed really nice. She was more or less normal, always smiling, her straight bark brown hair at shoulder length and her blue eyes always happy, but something happened. She got lost in the woods for three days and Jimmy remembered hearing about that when he was fourteen. Ever since then, she changed. There’s an eeriness about her and her psychic abilities definitely seem to be a part of it. Therefore, Jimmy lived in sadness and discomfort for the first few months with his aunt.
After a few more months, he became accustomed to aunt Jasmine’s practices and although she still did not fulfill the motherly role that he needed this last year of his high school career, he learned to be more independent and took care of himself on his own. He would go out occasionally with friends and always be careful not to do anything stupid and every time he came home, he would find aunt Jasmine with her fuchsia colored turban on top of her head, her crazy black eyeliner coming out of her eyelids, one of her many exotic dresses draped over her body decorated with fake jewels and her red nails hovering over the foggy crystal ball sitting on the rug in front of her. Every night at nine thirty when Jimmy would come home, aunt Jasmine would be there and as he’d learned over the days, he could not disturb her. He had asked her what she was doing and all she ever said was, “I’m looking into the future, please do not disturb my concentration”. But tonight his aunt wasn’t there.
There were noises coming out of the basement and he knew that he wasn’t allowed to go down there but breaking the usual routine for aunt Jasmine was something that never happened, he had to know what was going on. As he was walking down the stairs to the basement, he came across a smell of fire and smoke. He immediately became alarmed and started running downstairs to where he was hearing his aunt’s voice. It was a bad idea because first of all, he didn’t think about the fact that his aunt was talking, and not just chanting like she usually does, but actually talking to someone. His aunt would never invite anyone into the basement so it was certainly weird that there would be anyone else down there. Second of all, he tripped and fell because it was nearly dark in there except for the little flame he saw in the middle of the empty space. Apparently his aunt and whoever she was talking to didn’t hear him so he gathered himself and stood underneath the stairs behind an old armoire. What he saw and heard was paralyzing.
“Please don’t take him away. I know it’s him, I saw it. He’s not even my son, those weren’t the terms on the agreement.” Aunt Jasmine was begging to the other figure.
“Oh but you misunderstood. I didn’t mean that I would take the first child that you give birth to but the first child you become a mother to. You became a mother to this child and you certainly feel love for him as if he was your own son. Did you really think that I would not notice, Jasmine?” said a silky voice that was coming from a man dressed in an Armani suit. What Jimmy was bewildered about was the red tail coming out of his behind. Before he could register it in his head, aunt Jasmine spoke again,
“But I didn’t ask for these powers, you know that!”
“It doesn’t matter what I know. The rules are the rules, a human being cannot have psychic powers and if they cannot be taken away then something else must be taken away and that is the child that lives under this roof. Your begging most definitely won’t change my mind. I’m the Devil, I am not merciful.”
Jimmy couldn’t believe what he was hearing and seeing. They were talking about him and about being taken away by the Devil but this guy couldn’t be the Devil because Jimmy didn’t believe in him. He didn’t believe in this crazy supernatural stuff so it clearly couldn’t be true. And what was the guy talking about? A human not being able to have psychic powers? Since when is that a rule? Aunt Jasmine doesn’t really have psychic powers, it’s just a show and she actually cares for him? Jimmy’s head was spinning with all these questions and thoughts but they were interrupted by aunt Jasmine’s cry,
“No, you will not take him away. I won’t allow it. I’ve wanted a son for fifteen years. You can’t take him away now. I do care for him”
“Actually, he’s right behind that armoire so I’m going to bring him out so you can say your goodbyes. I am very certain that you have much to talk about,” the Devil said sarcastically and grinned as Jimmy felt something pull at his chest and he was suddenly by the Devil’s side. He reeked of smoke. Jimmy’s first instinct was to run away, away from this man, this thing but he couldn’t. It was as if he had a big weight tied to his foot impeding him from moving. Aunt Jasmine started speaking again, she was crying,
“Jimmy, I told you not to come in the basement. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for this to happen. You have to know that I’ve been trying to protect you this whole time by being distant because I couldn’t let the Devil take you away from me.”
“Aw how sweet. She was trying to protect you Jimmy. Well too bad because you’re coming with me to Hell.”
In that instant Jimmy felt like he was being pulled by the feet toward the ground. She heard aunt Jasmine scream and then immediately start chanting. The Devil was holding his arm tightly but he started to loosen his grip and he couldn’t understand why. Aunt Jasmine’s chanting was apparently doing something to help free Jimmy but a mirror suddenly appeared behind the Devil and he pushed Jimmy into it. Two flaps opened in as if it was a plastic curtain and then blackness.
The next thing Jimmy sees are green hills and long ladders reaching into the clouds on one side and on the other side there are gaping cliffs looking over a sea of black oil and flames. He sees the Devil far away in the distance standing on a cliff and Jimmy becomes afraid. He runs towards the ladders. As he starts climbing one, he notices the Devil is chasing him and he’s already on the same ladder below him. Jimmy climbs as fast as his strength allows him to until he reaches a cloud and everything changes. He now finds himself in a misty forest and that’s where he meets me.
You see, I’m a fairy with beautiful purple wings and I’m Jimmy’s sister. You may not believe it but it’s true. Jimmy has powers as well. I’ve actually been waiting for him to get to this world because that’s what aunt Jasmine knew was going to happen. She wanted to send Jimmy through the mirror so she tricked the Devil. She changed the door to hell and exchanged it with the mirror which is the door to this mystical world. All Jimmy had to do was climb the ladder. When he saw me he understood. He saw my features that looked much like our mother’s and he knew that I was his sister. He looked into my understanding clear eyes and all the answers were revealed. He said with a tender voice,
“I’ve been waiting to meet you, sister. I saw you in my dreams many times and now I know.”
He was right, except that those weren’t dreams. That was reality, THIS is reality. The other one was the dream but I’m sure he understands that because I can see it in his comprehending gaze.
...Liz Licea
Twilight
Bella’s first day at her new school was completely typical. No body noticed her as she walked down the halls but nobody ever would. Every school had been the same. This army brat had been through thirteen schools before her seventeenth year and the newest one in Phoenix was just the same.
It was not that she was particularly unattractive but neither was she considered good-looking by any means. Bella was best defined as plain, as plain as the barren deserts of Arizona.
Of course a lack of self-confidence did not help her win the hearts of any she loved. She knew that she wasn’t very attractive and to any adolescent girl, a lack of beauty like that of Heidi Klum was absolute death. This lack of confidence had kept her single and lonely, but this day was different; this school had one boy who found her attractive, her shyness endearing, and lack of self-esteem as something he could work with. This boys name was Edward.
Edward was considered quite handsome. He had dated many girls at this Phoenix school but none had ever lasted very long, the common cause of break up was Edward’s boredom with the relationship. Apparently he wanted more than the average girl would give and he hoped that this new girl would do just that; give him everything.
Once Bella realized that one of her fellow classmates, an attractive one no less, had taken an interest in her; she was head over heels, well as much in love as a teenage girl really could be. They began to date and nothing out of the ordinary happened. They’d go to dinner and then a movie, usually Edward’s choice, while Bella practically melted just watching him breath.
“How in the world could a beauty like this actually want me?” she would always think to herself. But she did not dare to ask Edward, or to do anything that might cause tension in their perfect relationship.
It was after only a few weeks of dating that Bella began to see why Edward’s other girlfriends had not lasted. Bella just so happened to have been making friends at her new school. Friends had not really been an issue per say in Bella’s life, but she never had many. So when she became close to a girl named Angela and a boy named Mike her world was seemingly ideal.
Edward did not have as fond of feelings for her new friends. Angela he could muster because she had a strict family and therefore was not given a lot of free time to hang out with Bella. Mike was another problem completely. Though he was one of many openly gay boys at their school, Edward found the fact that he had male genitalia to be far more offensive than it should have been, considering the circumstances. Mike also had very easy-going parents who allowed him plenty of time to socialize with friends after school and on weekends and Bella was his new favorite friend.
Bella and Mike’s friendship blossomed because they were both used to being outcasts before that year, a common struggle that they bonded over quickly. Soon they were spending most of their Saturdays together, a fact that Edward complained about during their Saturday night dates, Sunday hangouts, and after school make-out sessions. If he could not have her all the time, then no one could.
Because it was her first boyfriend, the first boy to take any interest in her at all, she succumbed to his ridiculous demands and only saw her friends between classes at school, when Edward was on the other side of campus. But Bella could live with a lack of friends again, she had done it before and this time she had him; nothing could have gone wrong.
Right before they were about to celebrate a their two month anniversary, Edward told Bella that he did not like all the food she ate, so she went on a diet. Then he told her to stop watching Glee because he did not like the way she looked at the male characters. It was this comment that, after obeying him completely, she realized was bizarre. She never watched that show with him and she only watched it alone in her room at night, after he had left. This confused her slightly but when she asked him, all he said was “I like to watch you sleep.”
Bella began to panic. Edward, her first boyfriend, was now stalking her, even when she was asleep. She had thought that she loved him but realized that that probably was not the case. The things he was telling her were frightening and all together creepy. She asked him to stop, unwilling to quit the relationship just yet. Edward refused and began to hit her anytime she defied him. Soon thereafter, he began to think that her parents were keeping her to themselves and he could not have that.
In the middle of one of Bella’s sleepless nights, they were all like that after she realized that Edward was stalking her, he came through the window and stole her away from her house. She tried to fight, but he was ultimately stronger than her and her screams could not be heard through the gag. Once he had her in his car, he drove her to an old warehouse, where no one would be able to find her and tied her up in such a way that even if he left her side for a minute, she would not be able to escape.
Now he had what he always wanted. None of the other girls liked it when he took them from their friends, or made them diet, or stalked them. They had all ended because no girl would give herself that wholly to him. But Bella was different and that’s why he took interest in her to begin with. She had low confidence, something he knew how to manipulate resulting in his ultimate power over her.
But once he had her hidden away, she did nothing but cry and scream for help and try to attack him whenever he got near. She was not going to let herself be taken over by this insane man anymore. No one who really loved her would ever make her do all these things.
Edward saw this and became enraged. Every other girl who had reached that point had done so much quicker than Bella and so he would just dump her. He found that they were of no use to him if they did not submit to his every whim, but Bella was different, special even. She had given him everything he asked and so when she resisted, it was too late. He could never let her go that easily.
On the third day of her kidnapping, Bella was murdered. A simple suffocation was all it took. Edward had grown weary of her crying and could not let his beloved plaything be that sad, so he covered her face to make her stop. When she ceased breathing all was right in his world. Bella would never leave him now. They could be together forever.
...Laura O’Hagan
They say when someone tries to stay awake longer than their body can hold out, they will eventually hallucinate and subsequently die. In other words, sleep is an unavoidable destination whether eternal or not…
The screen before me began to hurt my eyes. Flickering at whatever hertz the factory default was, creating the illusion that it’s a still picture, the monitor irritated my eyes. I rubbed my eyes, pinching at the bridge of my nose before I began another staring contest with the article on sleep deprivation. I switched on the desk lamp close by. It helped.
A while back, a friend of mine once stayed up four days straight, working on a major modeling project for his class. He said it was one of the best and worse times of his life he had thus far. How is this contradiction possible? Well, on the fourth day, he began hallucinating. No injections, shrooms, or paint thinner of any sorts. It was all him. All in his head. All by his brain. He boasted that it was like tripping out without the horrible “coming back to earth” feeling. After that he slept for a day and a half. He missed the deadline completely, even after finishing somehow on that very forth night, but the euphoric feeling embedded into his body compensated for whatever negative impact missing the project deadline would have given him.
Leaning back in my chair, I’m proud of my accomplishment. Honestly it’s not anything to be proud of, but the feeling of surpassing my friend’s record gave me a sense of accomplishment nonetheless. I’m going on my fifth day. The third and fourth days of sleep deprivation was difficult as expected. I kept myself up through coffee and energy drinks, along with the little exercise I got from running back and forth to the restroom. As for actual nourishment, I would walk to the gas station on the corner and get an assortment of the gasoline station’s freshly prepared gourmet treats. I didn’t trust myself to drive, much less one the finger-tip hungry knives sheathed in the wood block atop my kitchen counter. Stairs aren’t a problem either, since I live on the first floor of my apartment complex.
The fifth day is going amazing smooth however. It was almost as if I never stayed up four nights prior. I spent the day watching videos online to keep myself occupied. There was nothing much else for me to do since school is taking its annual spring break. Although I felt great, I was still unsure of what felt like newfound supernatural abilities, and decide it was best to continue my no car, no knives, and no long distances trend.
As the sun settled into the horizon, it was almost as if the red sky awoken something from deep within me. I fell out of my chair and onto the carpet. The carpet felt like concrete, and my head stayed glued to it. I had no strength. I just laid there on my side, facing the last of the evening sun through my balcony window. The last clear thought I had from this attack was, “I guess this is good enough.” I began closing my eyes. My body seemed to still had been on “stay awake” mode and thus there was some eye-lid resistance and some pain as well. The kind of pain you get when you stretch after staying in an uncomfortable position for too long. But that would be worth the surge of pleasure that proceeds afterward. The last of the light streamed through what little of my eyes were still open. Goodbye reality.
Wait. I didn’t even hallucinate yet. Well, I guess everyone’s body works in a different way. No sooner did the reasoning passed through my head, I became conscious of the light still coming through. Not the glow of light through my eyelids but the very same light that was seeping through when I was still in the process of closing my eyes. My eyes were still open of what felt like halfway. Does that count as a hallucination? If that doesn’t, then how about the sight of twelve hours passing by in ten seconds right before my painfully open eyes?
It was funny at first. I didn’t know I could keep such logical thinking while in such a state. It was an amazing experience, but now I had never craved for sleep more than ever before. I decided that it was time to put the toys away and really tuck my brain into bed. I closed my eyes. It felt like I closed my eyes, but I still see everything. Becoming aware of the strength returning to my body, I proceeded to the mirror in the bathroom. I closed my eyes in front of the mirror. Not working. I was staring wide eye back at myself. The feeling of my eyes closed and my reflection before me was like a suspenseful climax of a horror movie. My eyes were void of any sense of energy. It’s hard to believe that these logical thoughts are passing through this spiritless body. Did my body forget how to close its eyes? Another pulse of pain rushed down my spine, emanating from my eyes. I couldn’t get my mind off sleep. I splashed some water in my face and stepped into my room. I fell forward onto the bed, my face burying into the pillow. It was dark. It felt nice. Sleep. I couldn’t tell if I was sleeping. My thoughts kept surfacing, all logical. I figured that if I remained in this state for a while, my body would get the hint. The most uncomfortable feeling I had at this point was the lack of how much time was passing. How long do I stay like this? I took a quick look at the clock. It was close to 11 am. And again I stuffed my face full of pillow.
The next time I took a peek at the clock it was six in the evening. I’ve only slept for seven hours? Or maybe it’s already been a day. My body still felt wary but before falling into darkness again, I had to answer the call of nature. Walking towards the bathroom, I had to use the walls for leverage. In the doorway I leaned against the frame and switched on the light. I immediately became aware of something in the mirror. It was myself, the same lifeless me standing there seven hours ago, still standing before the sink. Tears streaming out of the pools I once called eyes.
...Jason Tse
He opened the gate, and I followed Him. Not knowing what our destination was, I followed without a second thought. His back was lean and beautiful. Maybe that’s why I trusted Him. We walked through the noiseless woods, the only sounds were our footsteps crushing twigs and dried leaves. The stars peeked its way through a quilt of branches. I could see the moon’s silhouette behind the smoke of clouds. Shadows lurked behind me and on both sides. You know that feeling when you feel like someone is watching you? well I had that exact feeling. His pace was fast, but constant. It was hard trying to keep up with Him. He legs were moving as if they were mechanical, plus He was almost a foot taller than me. It was cold and I was wearing a-shirt and jeans. I wanted to go back to grab a jacket but I was afraid to make any movements. His god-like hand was locked onto mine; well defined, flawless.
How to explain our relationship? normal, like every other couple. We have our ups and downs. Times we can’t stand one another. We make up and then we get over it. But He started to change. Or maybe He became comfortable enough to reveal His true identity. Whatever it was, I became more attached. He did things I didn’t quite understand. He talked to himself sometimes, He told me it was a way He processed His thoughts. He had to hear them in order to understand them. But it seems like He was always talking to someone else. He would pause every time he asked a question, as if someone somewhere would give Him an answer He was waiting for. I never heard an answer. He would nod in agreement, then stare off into an unknown place. I left Him alone when He had to “concentrate”.
Before we left He told me He loved me and that there was something He wanted to show me, and that I shouldn’t panic and remain calm. When someone tells you not to panic, it’s likely that you will. But understand that panic was far from my mind. I stared into His lovely brown eyes, into His soul, and what I was misery. I loved Him and this was all I knew. He held out His hand and led me into the mess of trees behind His house. His father was inside watching jeopardy drinking his Corona, like usual. A plate of wings from Charley’s besides Him. This was what He did, everyday.
The first time I met His father, first impression truly said it all. We went to his house after a long day of school and I saw a dish fly across my face, nearly hitting me in the nose. He put his hand in front of me, forcing me back when he saw it.
where the fuck have you been? I told yo dumbass to get my wings yesturday and there aint no damn wings in the damn fridge!
I kept quiet and tried to look at his shoes rather than his father’s face.
I bought them yesturday like you said. And you finished eating them.
His eyes told the truth.
Don’t fuckin lie to me you goddamn son of a devil. You can never do anything right you dumb fuck. get the fuck out of my house!
His father continued to yell, I stopped listening. I began to get angry and just wanted to throw a fist in his mouth. He guided me upstairs towards his room, He closed the door behind him and locked two latches, then he locked the knob. There wasn’t anything worth mentioning in his room, except one thing that caught my eye. An ax laid on it’s side beside his bed. I pretended like I didn’t notice and sat down on the edge of his bed. The springs lost its bounce. I sunk into the bed and lost my balance and fell onto the floor. He helped me up but didn’t smile.
Be careful, you’re clumsy sometimes. (pause) I’m sorry, I should have never brought you here. I didn’t know he was going to be home. He’s normally at the bar at this time. This was a bad idea. I should take you home.
Don’t worry about it, everyone has a bad day.
We talked about nonsense then it was time for me to go home. His father was asleep when we walked downstairs. Jeopardy was on, the corona, the wings. We walked outside, he opened his car door and I climbed inside. He had an old-school Buick. The paint that was once bright red looked like someone poured a bucket of acid all over it. It’s now a dirty burgundy. We drove off into the night. And that was how it always was and remained to be.
It got colder. I branch scratched my arm and I started to bleed. The blood oozed from my arm like a punctured plum. I had lost track of time, and where I was. He stopped. I bumped into him. In front of him was nothing. I looked at him, our eyes did not meet.
whats wrong?
It seemed like he didn’t hear me. Slowly he lowered his head and watched the ground.
I can hear them
Hear who? Who do you hear?
I can hear them
Who can you hear? Tell me
Them. I buried them here.
Bury? What did he bury? A dead cat? His dogs? What is he talking about? My silence irritated him. He raised His head and looked at me.
I can hear them! Are you listening to me? I can’t stand it anymore.
He squeezed my arm harder. It started to hurt.
Did you kill someone? Who did you kill?
I was curious. Not yet alarmed.
He’s going to kill you too. He doesn’t want me to be with any one. He thinks i killed her. My mother. He thinks I killed her. I was born with the devil written on my forehead. I did kill her. I killed my mother.
How?
My hand he held still. He brushed some leaves away from an object beneath us, he picked up the same ax I saw by his bed a little while ago.
It was an accident. I didn’t mean to! Lord knows I didn’t mean to! He killed my love.. then my next love.. now he will kill you too. I let him before because it might have made him feel better.
My god.. did you ever call the police? Maybe we should. Are their bodies still here?
I pulled my hand away from his and examined the floor. He was now behind me.
But... he never killed them so I killed them and I showed him. To share his pain. I wanted him to know that I was going through the same thing. But he didn’t feel better. He made me kill them! So really it was him who killed them. Do you understand? Maybe he’ll feel better after you! I’m sorry. Be careful on your way down there, you know you’re clumsy sometimes.
This is the end of my story.
...Julia Le
Short Story
Her eyes struggled to adjust to the moonlight. Although, what was there to adjust to? Around her was pure darkness. Her jeans were covered in mud and fallen leaves. Her ripped shirt attracted broken branches that pierced her skin. All was a blur, all was dark, all was empty. The last memory she had was lying motionless on her bed, falling into an endless dream. “But how am I here?” she questioned. She had just eaten dinner with her family, “I am sure they would have heard me if someone had dragged me out of the house, right?” Her heart started beating, anxiety shot through her veins, nothing made sense anymore.
Sara managed to lift her aching body off the hard ground. Bruises covered her right leg and left arm. On her rib was a massive bite mark, “This cannot be human,” she said to herself. The thought of what may have attacked her made her stomach cringe. Only half of the moon was shining tonight while it tried to reveal itself behind the clouds and the trees. Every step she took was aimless as the ground became nothing but matter and black. “This is going to be a long night,” Sara said to herself as she slowly dragged her body to the nearest telephone.
It seemed as if she had been walking for ours, she started to see things that she recognized. It was becoming an endless circle. But somehow, she knew she wasn’t alone in this predicament. As she sat on a tree stump, something behind her made the leaves shake and the branches move. A treacherous yell made her heart stop. “What animal could have possible made that noise? Not a lion…no…something prehistoric…perhaps something non-existent.” Tears rolled down her face as she tried to regain consciousness of what had just happened. Her pain was converted to adrenaline as she sprinted up an open hill.
Every time she stopped to take a break, Sara could feel something or someone breathing down her neck, saying her name, reaching for her. It seemed as if she was never going to get to the top of the hill. As she stopped to look at her progress, her ears heard heavy footsteps. A large shadow was portrayed onto the floor, his body hunched, his nails curled, his jaw protruding outwards. “This cannot be human, no…” All remained silent, the owls stopped hooting, the leaves stopped rustling. Suddenly, the trees began to move violently, leaves were scattered everywhere, and in the midst of the chaos, Sara saw two flashing red eyes, a devilish smile, and the body of what seemed a monster from Hades.
She tried to convince herself that this could not be real. This “thing” could not be two feet away from her. She took a step back but the leather-skinned hand dragged her leg closer to him. She fell on her stomach only to see that her house was behind her the whole time. “Good, I’m sure my parents are bound to hear me,” she said to herself. The demon had a painful hold of her leg. Tears covered her face, screams of help could be heard everywhere to the point that they could give your skin goose bumps. Sara tried her hardest to not see the demons deformed face; thankfully the heavy wind prohibited her from seeing clearly. With one final kick she was able to run back to her fence, into her porch, in her living room, and into her parent’s room. But everything was vacant, everything was silent.
She ran into the kitchen, grabbed the largest knife she could find, and ran into her room--too late, she could feel his presence. The open window let in a heavy wind that moved her curtain in a ghost-like manner, her lamp fell off her desk, and she went flying. Everywhere. Her body hit the surrounding walls, the glass frames, the closet door. After what seemed to be the end of her torcher, she fell onto the ground and crawled into the closet. The door was closed, the knife was held close to her shaking chest, she could see through the bottom cracks footsteps lurking in front of her. She could feel his warm breath penetrating through the walls around her, the wart-filled hand slowly turned the door knob and she woke up lying on the bed.
Everything around her was a mess, broken glass covered her floor, blood seeped in the carpet, the window remained open. Only to her most dreadful surprise, the thing was standing at the foot of her bed, watching her with an intense passion, ready to take her. His disturbingly twisted body wrapped his hands around her ankles and jerked her onto the ground. Every scream she made seemed to be muted. Sara quickly gripped her knife and pierced his non-existent heart. He gave her a demented crooked smile and let go of her body. As he stood up, he raised his index finger to his lips and a violent gust of made his leaving unexplainable. Darkness was all she saw.
The morning sun pierced through her open window, everything was intact just as it was before she went to bed. Her mom opened the door suddenly, “Sara, it is late and we’re having breakfast, are you going to join us?” Yet Sara remained in her bed unable to move. Her impatient mom went to the bed and lifted the covers only to make a gruesome discovery. Her daughters clothes were bathed in red blood, bruises covered her body, an infected bite mark was left on her stomach, and in her right hand was a bloody knife. Sara’s eyes were gleaming red, her skin made her look deathly. Her mom fainted at the sight of her monster-like daughter, failing to see the hunched shadow outside her open window.
Her parents tried to get Sara to be her normal self again; they tried to forget what had happened. They tried to act as if nothing happened. But every night, Sara would escape the comfort of her home to sleep in the forest. Her whereabouts were unexplainable and she never spoke. Although it broke her family’s heart, they were eager to send her off to a place when she could be treated. Now, all Sara sees are white, sponge-like walls, and white linens bounding her tight. Yet she manages to escape to the forest every now and then through her dreams.
...Christina Zuniga
A Road Paved with Good Intentions
I always did what she told me to. I was her obedient, submissive slave. She was everything I wasn’t but wanted to be; she was: sexy, sassy, and confident. Not that annoying confidence that is unwarranted, but that confidence that was a tad shy of cockiness, and for good reason. Her build was every male and, for those who saw her, females dream. She had the ability to make men go crazy and women question their sexuality. I followed her like a puppy dog, envying those lustful and not at all subtle stares by anyone and anything. She didn’t just get what she wanted by her looks, she got them with her cool, quick wit and sharp as a nail brain within that lustrous and bold head of fiery red hair. It seemed entirely unfair that someone with her siren like aura also had the intelligence of that that rivaled those at the most prestigious of schools. Well rounded, interesting, and sexy as hell.
I was elated that we were a team, her and I. That someone of her caliber would even look at me. I was her complete opposite. No one noticed me. I was mousy and meek. I was plain and average, the next girl over. With all her skills and innate abilities it was impossible to think that I had any input in what we did. But I did. Despite her mastery at everything she did, she was entirely too reckless. She was impulsive. I was precise and certain; always thinking before speaking, before taking that cautious and well planned step forward. I was also a scholarly loner. No one even knew that we had ever, or could ever, cross paths. While she may leave a trace that would lead to us, I was the one who picked up after, the one who cleaned up the blood and guts...literally.
Although “murder” may be the technical term, it was our hobby, our joy run, our source of adrenaline, our drug. But over anything else, it was our job. Even though she didn’t mind doing what we did to anyone who didn’t let her get away with one of her drastic actions, I was the one who chose our victims. And in my eyes, they deserved it.
Our next job is planned for today, Thursday. Our victim is the local pervert, or in the eyes of the community: the elderly cross walk attendant- adored by all and deemed the town’s “Grandpa”. He got away with accidently being found in the little girl’s room all too often, blaming it on “his old age.” I would meet Olivia later this afternoon when she will, no doubt, give me another one of her pep talks that she had to do for every job. Although I enjoyed what we did, I could never do it without Olivia. She made everything seemed so logical and obvious. Even beneficial and morally right! I needed that inside voice to push me over the edge and do what I was so good at doing. Then I would wait. Wait for Olivia to lure the Grandpa back to our special place by use of her powerful and irresistible charm. Then it was my turn.
Something went terribly wrong. Olivia’s taking too long! She did it by herself. I knew I should have gone with her this time. She seemed different about this job. She was too excited, too involved. She treated it passionately, almost personally. No doubt her impulses were to do it herself. She gave in. I should have gone with her!
“Do you recognize this man?” He asked- his voice as cold as the barren, concrete walls that surrounded us. A table and two chairs; mirrored windows. How did I get here? Back to the photo: it was the Grandpa. “No,” I lied. “Do you know who this is?” It was Olivia, her red hair especially flaming in the picture. “No,” I lied yet again. They can’t trace me to this. Impossible. I wasn’t even there. “Do you have anything to say about this photo?” He almost hesitated before revealing its contents.
Impossible! I stared at it, trying to remember. Did I go? Did I do the job? Where was Olivia? She framed me!
“This is you Ms. Abrams. And that is your grandfather you are hunched over. Do you remember now?”
“I didn’t do it. Olivia did.”
“Olivia. What is her last name?”
“Olivia Marie...I don’t know her last name. She did it! I took no part in this and I’m even ashamed of knowing her first name!”
“Ms. Abrams.....Olivia Marie’s last name is....Abrams. She was your sister who went missing twelve years ago from your grandfather’s house. Do you remember now?” He asked softly, almost kindly.
Olivia Marie Abrams: my sister. I looked back at the- our Grandpa. He deserved it.
...Gabby Arroyo
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