Mud slapped against the girls little green boots as she hopped down the driveway, Auburn locks dancing in wind with each leap. Cheeks tinted rose, she tipped up her nose to the brisk air taking in the scent of soft light rain and cold branches. This was the smell of home, the smell of simplicity. It brought her back to where only knee scrapes and broken crayons were the worry of the day. Droplets rested upon her lashes, blurring the sky above. Thoughts began to circulate in her little mind. Now, She was the droplet racing towards the bottom of the window, taking the lead against the cold glass. She ran and she ran, and then she slammed into the rim claiming her victory. Or so she dreamed. These days, she would be the last droplet to the finish line, the one no body bet success on. The smell of rain and salt dripped down her cheek as she turned her attention to the clouds, the ones who comforted her as a child. Funny shapes would take form bringing the young girl to a different world. A princess she could be, ruling a kingdom of her making, or maybe a fierce warrior that could tame the most vile dragon. Rain dripped against her brow, bringing her back to reality, the one where she was only a young lady walking in the rain. The reality where she no longer wore green boots or acted like a child, but where she was content to remember.

Watercolor danced in the night sky. Shades of blue, green, purple and red waltzing between the stars. It was beautiful, but her eyes were brighter than any constellation in the sky. Wonder and joy swirled around in them, a magnificent shade of navy and emerald with gold flecks scattered like stars. It was the kind of picture that overtook my every thought. Instead of looking at the moon, I just stared at her in awe. That’s when she turned her head to me. A soft smile spread across her face as her eyes softened. Soft fingers curled around mine and squeezed. My heart jumped at the sight, heat warming my cheeks. Time passed. Beautiful, silent, time. The sky faded to different hues of coral. The Quiet rustling of grass took the place of words, Crickets and critters humming a melody from heaven. Her eyes fluttered to sleep, the rest of her face relaxing. It was here that I knew. I could live a lifetime of pure silence with her hand in mine.

When I was young, people always told me I would be a heartbreaker. I don’t think this is what they meant though. My head burned, and my eyes watered. Wiping away sweat, I look down at my hands. They’re covered in a sticky deep crimson goo. Blood dripped to the dirt, and clots formed making the process slower. Beside the puddle was the boy, with a rusty knife beside him. I glanced at his face. The weight of the blood pulled a strand of brown hair towards his brow and dripped. His blue eyes were glossed over, and his skin was pale and cold. Yep, I was sure he was dead. Beside him was a heart. It was unharmed, unlike the rest of the boy, as if it were carefully carved out. Thinking, I picked it up, and left the boy for home. I would come back later to give him a proper burial. My cabin was far off down the road, in an empty clearing with no neighbors for miles. It really was a beautiful place. The grass was healthy and tall, tall enough to hide any secrets I kept within my home. The wood was light and rusty, giving the place a warm inviting feeling that I could use to help welcome others in. Finally Arriving home, I open the door and walked to the kitchen. I plopped the heart on the counter and grabbed a small hunting knife I found from the murder site, and then carefully sliced into it. It was quite interesting seeing the most important part of a person. It felt strangely powerful. It was always my favorite part of the process, ripping out the hearts of what others would call heartbreakers, and then keeping them for myself. My second favorite would probably be the chase, and luring the men into where they would take their last heartbeat. Smiling at the thought, I pop the heart into a jar and carefully place with the rest of the collection.

Tick Tock Tick Tock The clock chimes as the hand reaches 10:00 The seat is the same pale yellow as the nights before, and the walls were the same dusty egg shell color. The hardwood floor was a dark smooth brown and the room was dimly lit, leaving an eerie feeling in my stomach. Something felt very wrong. Tick Tock Tick Tock My eyes dart around as the hand reaches towards 10:30. There are no doors, and no windows. Any minute now, I thought as my fingernails dug into the sides of the chair. Tick Tock Tick Tock The clock then hits 11:00 The ticking stops. My heart rate spikes and breathing hitches as I realize it’s time. Staring with wide eyes, the room begins to rumble as the floor starts to stain with a crimson red. The once yellow chair turns a bloody orange as the thick liquid rises and climbs the walls. Desperate to escape, I claw at the wallpaper hoping to break the barrier between me and freedom. Reaching for the ceiling, the chair slips from under me and I’m plummeted into the dark, sticky sea of blood Screaming for air, my mouth and lungs are flooded with the flavor of burnt metal. My sight is now blurry, and my head aches from the lack of oxygen. The Clock is now red, as the hand touches 12:00

Tick Tock Tick Tock, I jump up from the chair in a cold sweat and see that the blood is gone, and the room is now normal. Looking up, I see that the clock is back to 10:00

Everyday seems the same while the sky stays either blue or gray, I go to work, and get back home To an empty room that’s grey as stone, I read a book then head to bed, Then wake up feeling heavy as led. I had no one, no friend or foe, I had no one to call a home Until I opened a book, with a leather front with teary eyes I take a look, I read it’s words and felt the love Of a glorious God who stays above.

My eyes blink open as the moonlight drapes over my face. I glance to my clock, it’s 3:13 a.m. It’s happening again. In expectation, I look up and see it. A short scrawny figure looming in the corner of the room. It’s body is pale, and looks emaciated. Sunken black orbs stare back as it lifts its lanky arms up and points in my direction. A moment of silent passes. Then the creatures jaw dislocates as it lets out its eerie voice. “The bed” It whispers once “Under the bed” It wheezes “Don’t look” The remainder of the dream feels like eternity as the creature and I stare at each other, both frozen in fear.

It was the middle of October when she decided she would go through with it. She wrote her goodbyes and left them on the coffee table for her mother to find, and left enough food for the cat to make it until then. Outside, The sky was dark and the air grew bitter, and she didn’t know where she was going, all she knew at the time was that it had to be “away”.

It was the Middle of October he had decided to run away, and to escape from what others would call a home. 
He left no letters, and had no pets, just a little brother who slept in the room down the hall. 
The sky was peaceful to him, and he didn’t mind the cold. He never knew where he was going, and where he wanted to be, all he wanted was to “get away”

And no, it was never her intention for it to end this way, at the bottom of the Olion bridge only 5 miles from home. And it was never his intention to find her there, 7 miles from his. But then he did.

There she laid, lifeless, distorted and cold to the touch, and there he sat with her, tears streaming from empty eyes.
They had never new each-other before, but the boy had felt a connection, not one where he felt as if he had known her for years, but one where he knew what she had felt for years. 
And he wondered what could have been, if they could have helped with each-others suffering if she had stayed alive. Then, he began to wonder what would happen if he didn’t.
The truth of this story is, they did not live a happily ever after, not by a mile.

“Don’t go to the lake!”, mother called. “I won’t!”. I run up to mom and give her a kiss on the cheek, knowing I’m going to disobey her wishes. I put on my coat and walk out the door. The air was beginning to grow crisp, and leaves fell softly from the trees. The trail was overgrown and curved through the woods until it finally arrived at the lake. The water runs quietly, and the dock looked especially haunting today. At first, I never understood why mom was so cautious of the place, it just looked like somewhere people would hold barbecues and birthday parties. Or at least that’s what I had thought. The dock creaked as I walked up and sat by the murky water. Peering over the edge down into the deep I see a reflection, a reflection that wasn’t mine. As the face floated closer I could make out features, the creatures face was that of a woman, with eyes that were sunken in and dull, and she had a grin that held many sharp teeth. No wonder mother never wanted me back here.

Earthquakes no longer feel so foreign to my body, The destruction and chaos in my head, The shaking in my bones, The thoughts that keep me out of bed and the paranoia that turns me to stone, The screaming in my brain so loud that it crumples me to the ground, But the chaos will never change, Nor the shaking in my bones, Or the thoughts who keep me out of bed or paranoia that turns me to stone. And the screaming in my brain so loud that it crumples me into the ground will never leave. earthquakes no longer feel so foreign to my body.

A thick fog covers the crumbling atmosphere, making it harder to see the path, and even more dangerous to walk it. It’s been a few months since our world has fallen into an apocalypse. It was just a normal day when it all began. The sun shined and the world turned as usual, the only thing unusual was the epidemic that went on in other countries. It was a virus of some type, a virus that made people act as if they had rabies. It even turned the dead into walking corpses. It was a thing we thought would never penetrate our strong nation, but it did, and everything crumbled in an instant. So now, months later, I’m walking this misty path, the only path that reaches the Union that isn’t infested with these violent creatures. Don’t get me wrong, I’d much rather be sleeping in my cabin, but there’s people out there who need food and medicine, and unfortunately the only one able to transport those goods is me. Halfway to my destination, the fog grows thicker making it nearly impossible to see my own hand in front of my face. I slow to a stop and begin to look for the flashlight in my bag, and then I hear a growl. I couldn’t see it until it was on top of me. As I struggle to escape without getting bit I see it’s face. It’s face was in a deep stage of decay, it’s eyes were sunken orbs of gray, and bloody mucus dripped down its bony nose. The inhuman creature gapes at me while clawing at my arms. Am I even surprised, of course I’m going to end up dying on this stupid trail. After a few minutes of struggle, I decide to give up to the creature. A sharp pain stabs into my arm as the thing bites me, and warm blood spills on the path. I wonder if anybody will find me, or if I’ll turn to be one of these things. As I think about the outcomes, I fade off into an endless sleep.