One eye peered out from behind a blanket of thick, greasy, black hair. The eye was red and bloodshot, yellow puss dripped from the inside corner and oozed down the side of its nose pooling in the crevice between the nose and cheek. The cheek flesh was webbed with spidery green veins against the pale yellow skin.
I awoke with a splitting headache, and no recollection of where it had come from. I lay staring up at the kitchen ceiling, puddles of milk pooling all around me on the ground. Reaching up, I found a large lump along the back of my head, and when my hand came away it was covered in a sticky thick substance. Blood. I lifted myself to a sitting position and noticed the pieces of glass laying around me. So, it had been a glass milk bottle that made this mess. Scanning the kitchen, there didn’t appear to be any sign of a struggle other than the broken bottle, and of course, my splitting headache. After taking two Tylenol for the headache, I made my way into the living room and began to look around. Surely there was something out here that could help jog my memory. The front door had been left ajar and right away I realized my wallet was missing from the table beside the door. Whoever had hit me with that bottle most likely also took my wallet. I knew I should have invested in that home camera system. Shutting the door, I noticed the small Bible sitting on the table from which my wallet was missing, and it all came back. I remembered the two boys then. They had been in their twenties, dressed in nice suits, and they had ridden up on bikes. I remembered noticing that one of them had an almost flat bicycle tyre. They have come to the door, and offered me The Bible, suggesting that I open my door to Jesus and that Jesus’s door was always open or something like that. I had declined the Bible, but offered them both something to drink. One young man asked for lemonade, the other, milk, which I thought was terribly odd. I had invited them in and gone to the kitchen to pour the glasses. I didn’t even hear them come up behind me. I don’t know which of them hit me, but I guess that doesn’t really matter. One thing’s for sure, that’s the last time I’m opening my door for Jesus.
Carly watched from the large waiting area window at gate 6B as the massive jet crashed down onto the jetway, bursting into flames. The people around her all gasped and pushed against her to get a view from the window behind where she sat. The ground crew ran quickly across the jetway, fire hoses in hand, to put out the fire. At that moment, the next plane nose dived onto the jetway atop the last, taking the ground crew with it. People began to panic. Many still crowded the window to view the destruction, others rushed the ticket counters to have their travel refunded. Carly shifted her gaze to two women who had begun to argue over who had been first in line at the ticket counter. One woman shoved the other, and the next moment all hell broke loose. The two women were pulling hair, scratching, and punching one another. Both toppled to the ground, and onlookers simply stepped back, or moved forward to reach the ticket counter. No one intervened. An announcement sounded over the intercom, “ladies and gentlemen, please remain calm. We are investigating these events and we are working to have flights shifted or canceled. Please do not panic.” Carly was frozen in fear, and decided not to leave from the safety of her seat against the window. There was a loud crunch and a boom from behind her, and Carly turned back to look out the window once again: another plane had fallen just 20 yards from the last two. This time she could see paramedics on the jetway lifting steaming slashed bodies onto stretchers. People were beginning to emerge from the initial wreckage. Charcoaled bodies came hobbling from the fire, but there weren’t nearly enough paramedics to help them all. Within the airport the conditions began to worsen. People were pushing, shoving, fighting. Airport security had arrived, but no one paid any attention. People shoved past security scrambling to get to ticket counters, or to exit the airport. One guard was shoved to the ground as two men broke into an altercation, the crowd trampling over him as they attempted to flee. The guard lay on the ground trying to shield himself from the stampede, but soon Carly couldn’t see him any longer. The crowd had swallowed him. There was a loud bang, and she shifted her gaze to the gate across from her, filtering in through gate 5B were armed soldiers, and one of them had fired a gun. Piercing screams filtered through the air as people began to run in all directions. Carly curled up into a ball and shrank into the safety of her seat. The window beside her revealed a large incoming object, and she caught sight of the approaching plane from the corner of her eye seconds before it came crashing into the airport.
These walls hold a secret.
They won’t tell you what they hold... but I will.
Life once breathed within these walls. The everyday cooking, cleaning and working took place here. The family, a small unit, was secure in this place. The mother, the father, and their little piglet.
When the winds came and the storm blew the ocean in, the three had nowhere to go.
Waves crashed against the walls, the windows, the roof, until there was no holding them back.
Little pig... little pig... the wind howled.
The sea raged... It huffed, and it puffed, until it blew their house in.
Dvone counted to ten against the tree, then shouted, “ready or not, here I come!” He spun around and surveyed the scene. Children played busily on the playground, mothers sat silently on benches, staring at their phones, but there was no sign of Jayden. He scanned the bushes and walked towards the bike path. A man stood against the fence, minding his own business, looking out at the playground. “Excuse me,” Dvone said to the man, “Have you seen a boy around here? Hiding maybe?” The stranger looked down at Dvone and smiled, “well, now that you ask, I sure have! He told me not to say anything though. I don’t think I should tell you where he is.” “Please tell me! I won’t tell him you told,” said Dvone. The man looked around, then bent down and whispered in Dvone’s ear, “ok, follow me.” Dvone followed the man to the parking lot looking for his friend.
Two hours later, Jayden sat on the park bench with his mother, still talking to the police.
“I just don’t know where he went,” said Jayden, head bowed and cheeks streaked with dry tears, “We were playing hide and seek. I was hiding behind a tree in the woods. When he didn’t come for me, I just came back to the playground and he was gone.”
Snow White. That’s what came to mind as I spotted the droplets of red dotting the bright, white snow. The contrast was striking. A deep apple red against the soft white glow of the powder. What had happened here? I followed the slick red streaks up to the wood line and contemplated whether or not to enter into this mystery. The footprints beside the blood were indistinguishable. The falling snow and the struggle of the victim had left them unclear. I decided to venture in and took a moment to scan the field behind me: one last glimpse of safety. Stepping into the tree coverage, I walked about ten feet before I found her. A small doe lay motionless in the blanket of powdered snow, her eyes frozen in an eternally frightened stare.
Junie grabbed his sister’s hand and pulled her towards the cliff edge. She walked shakily in his direction, but their eyes met and she nodded. She was ready. Turning their gaze to the bottom of the ravine, they both stepped off into the abyss. … Cassie and Junie had always known they were special. People usually wrote off their unique behavior as part of the much fabled twin connection. As many twins do, Junie and Cassie shared many of the same interests and abilities. They knew things about each other that normal people just didn’t know. But Cassie and Junie were different from other twins. They didn’t just share interests and abilities. Cassie and Junie shared something else that made them very unique. The twins do not recall their birth or childhood, but somewhere, in a large folder, inside of a confidential and locked file cabinet, an interested person would learn that Cassie and Junie were found, three days old, in a car parked in a hospital parking lot. The car happened to belong to a young woman who was visiting her mother in the hospital, and had carelessly left the door unlocked; young people usually do these things, but luckily for her, in this instance, nothing was stolen besides the peace and quiet within the vehicle. Upon returning to her car, the young woman found two screaming, but healthy, twins in the back seat. These little orphans began life in an orphanage, but were quickly adopted. The paperwork inside this large folder would also reveal that these two little ones didn’t remain in their adopted home for long. Soon after the adoption, the authorities found the two, then one year old, children in an alleyway behind the local Burger King. The adoptive parents were taken into custody, hysterical and bewildered. They swore they had routinely put the babies to bed safely in their cribs, but there was no evidence for or against their statement; the babies returned to the care of the orphanage. This pattern continued in three more adoptive homes, each time the children were found in odd locations, unsupervised. Today, Junie knew he was ready, and Cassie trusted him. They had failed before, but they would not fail now. Atop the cliff, they could see the whole city. A wretched city that had only brought them pain and misfortune. They had no family and no friends; they were alone. But after today, they wouldn’t be any longer. Junie grabbed his sister’s hand and pulled her towards the cliff edge. She walked shakily in his direction, but their eyes met and she nodded. She was ready. Turning their gaze to the bottom of the ravine, they both stepped off into the abyss. The wind hit their faces as they fell, open eyes stinging. They watched as the world grew thin, and they slipped into the thin veil of transmission. Then, darkness. ... Junie opened his eyes, a hazy fog covered his vision and adjusted in his wakefulness. The figure before him caused his heart to beat quickly, and he was filled with joy. He had done it! She was beautiful; everything he had ever dreamed of. Her skin was a soft blue, one large and translucent eye blinked glowingly from the center of her forehead. The two small openings on either side of her face spread thin as she smiled down at him. He was home, finally. Her babies had found their way back home.
Anthony squirmed in the bucket seat as he shoved the cell phone in his pocket, and reached for the headphones lying to his right on the passenger seat. He checked the time, 6:12pm, then surveyed the parking lot: still no Julia. The parking lot at the swamp trail entrance was empty, as usual. Not many people came down here during the week, which made it the perfect spot for a quiet run. He and Julia met in different locations to run each week, but this was his favorite. It was a secluded place, and he preferred the company of nature to the shouts of bratty children or sneers from fellow runners. People were inconsiderate, and he preferred to keep his distance from them. He took a deep breath and let it out in a whoosh. Where was she? His eyes scanned the parking lot once more. Julia was usually prompt, and rarely did she arrive late. He was certain they had said to meet at 6. They always met at 6. “Well, no point in just sitting here waiting.” Anthony slung the car door open and hopped out. He decided it would be a better idea to wait outside: the view was more enjoyable this way. His windshield hadn’t been washed in weeks, and it seemed rather hypocritical to enjoy nature through mounds of dried bug guts. Shoving the headphones in his pocket, Anthony walked in the direction of the trail, and noticed something glint in the sunlight to his right; what was that? Maybe a quarter? A lucky penny would be nice. Everyone needed a little luck now and then. Having nothing else to do but wait, Anthony walked towards the object shining in the sun. As he got closer, he saw it was much bigger than a coin. Maybe he had really found something valuable here! It looked like… Was that? He knelt down beside it, making sure he hadn’t been mistaken, and a feeling of dread swam over him. He sprung to a standing position and looked around quickly, surveying the parking lot, his surroundings, the woods: no one in sight. “Julia!” he shouted, cupping his hands around his mouth to create a megaphone effect. He waited a moment, the dread tightening in his stomach as he did. “Julia! Are you out here?” He looked back down at the ground, at the phone lying in the parking lot, at the photo inserted into the back of the clear casing. It was a photo of his best friend. A photo he and Julia had taken last year at their company Christmas party. She always kept that photo in her phone case. There was no mistaking the phone: it was hers. He wasn’t sure if he should pick it up, or leave it. Was it evidence? Had someone taken her? Or had she just dropped it? His stomach started to turn. He felt something rising in his throat and he forced it back down. He had to keep himself together. “Julia!” he shouted one last time, then scanned the perimeter: nothing. He pulled the phone from his pocket, unlocked the screen, then hesitated. ‘Should I call the police?’ he thought, ‘Is this an emergency?’ He didn’t know. He wasn't sure. He opened up his message history instead to scan through the texts she had sent him earlier in the day. What was he missing? How did this phone end up here? That’s when he saw it. The time. He had gotten the time wrong. In her message from earlier this morning, she had adjusted the meeting time, and he had missed it. How had he missed that? Julia had arrived at 5, not 6, and something had happened to her. Something awful. He dialed 911, then sank down onto the ground and curled into a ball; this was all his fault.