Short stories & poems

The room was still.

The dusty mirror in the corner showed no life, the discarded toys sat, frozen in an eternal tea party, glassy eyes staring with a fixed glare.

The stillness is broken by a scream, a child’s scream, and the shouts of ‘Help! Help me!”. The shrill sound forewarns the arrival of it, the small child running as fast as she can, cake smearing her face as her pursuerer runs with outstretched hands, just waiting for the chance to tickle her life away.

“There’s been 15 family slaughters in the past two months here.”

“I said we’ll take it! Not often you get to go camping for a price like that!” Ned said to the booking agent on the phone.

So soon, Ned, his partner Dave, and their daughter Amy went camping. “Is anyone creeped out that we’re the only ones here? And it’s completely silent, no birds or anything?” Amy asked her dads as they set up tents.

“No, not really. I mean there is a guy in the trees holding a big knife, maybe he scared the birds away?” Dave said, busying himself with the grill. “Who wants hot dogs?”

Noon turned to evening, and by morning the family woke up to a surprise. All their food was gone, and the grass had been burned into a message - LEAVE NOW.

“Hmm.” Ned mused. “Probably kids.”

“Kids? Kids took all our food and burned a evil message in the ground?” Amy asked, disbelieving. “We should go.”

“It’s only been one night.”

So they stayed. The second morning bought skulls around their tents, the third a huge dead deer torn to shreds which Dave cooked up. The fourth night it rained blood. Still they stayed. Until…

The fifth night bought candles and robed figures that accompanied them. They circled the tattered tents, and hummed until the family woke.

“All right! Let’s do this!” Ned announced, emerging. “You have violated the ‘sceptres and ghosts’ code by over killing. I am inspector Ned, this is a violation warning. Next time we will be bringing you in.”

The figures scuttle away, and the morning brings birds and a fresh supply of food back in their tents.

“What did you do, dad?” Amy asks. “I was so scared!”

Ned stirs his coffee in his camping mug. “I bluffed, hon.” And takes a long sip.

“Edgar Bergen. Charlie McCarthy. Mortimer Snerd! I haven’t seen you boys in forever. How long has it been?”

“How long has it been since you opened this old trunk, you big dummy?” Charlie quipped.

“Since he left the circus, no doubt,” Edgar added.

“Hyuck, hyuck. When he was a clown,” Mortimer noted.

“Well, he was a better clown than he was a ventriliquist,” Charlie said.

“That goes without saying,” Edgar agreed.

“Well, nobody was as good as you Edgar,” Mortimer fawned.

“Well, thank you Mortimer.”

“As long as you didn’t care if his mouth moved,” chided Charlie.

“Hey! I resemble that remark.”

“Oh Edgar. You always did have thin skin.”

“Thin skin? Him? You were always the one with thin skin, you big dummy. Those kids laughed at you when you rode your unicycle and juggled. And you cried. But they were supposed to laugh at you. You were a clown, for Pete’s sake. And when you brought us into your act, everybody thought we were the dummies, but it was always you.” Charlie was as blunt as ever.

“I suppose.”

“Hyuck. You shoulda juggled the three of us instead of trying to throw your voice.”

“Yeah. Wouldn’t that have been a treat. We coulda upchucked on you while you were doing it. Of course, it woulda been sawdust and wood chips.”

Edgar jumped in. “Hey now. Don’t be so tough on the kid. He was our meal ticket you know.”

“Meal ticket! Hah! He barely made enough to eat his own food. And he stuffed us with the leftover straw and sawdust from the ground. Who knows what it had in it.”

“Hyuck hyuck. That’s why I smell so bad. Elephant…”

“No. You smell so bad because that big dummy stuck us in that trunk so long,” Charlie said.

“Well, boys. It’s been fun. Although, I’m not sure I’ve heard Charlie in such fine form as today.”

Footsteps echoed in the attic.

“Hey, Dad. Whatcha doin’?”

The clown turned to face his boy. “Hi son.” He turned back to his old trunk where his son was gazing. “Just taking a trip down memory lane.”

The boy stepped forward and looked into the old trunk. “Whoa! You were a ventriliquist? That is so cool.”

“Not so cool when you watched his mouth move,” Charlie said.

“Wow! They move without you doing anything.”

The clown opened his hand, and showed his son the mechanism he had pulled out when he first opened the trunk. It had three sets of controls. “See, I can move their mouths with these buttons, their heads with these, their eyes with these, and so on and so on.”

The boy’s eyes went wide. “Can I try?”

The clown handed the mechanism to his son. “Be careful. You never know what they’re gonna say.”

The boy pressed the mouth button for Charlie.

“You can say that again.”

For Mortimer.

“You can say that again. Hyuck. Hyuck.”

For Edgar.

“Sigh. I was the puppet master way back when.”

“This is so cool.”

“Well, you’ve got your kid fooled, you big dummy”, Charlie said.

“He’s definitely not like your normal audience,” Edgar agreed.

“Hyuck. Hyuck. You got me fooled too. I always thought you were great. Hyuck.”

“Thank you Mortimer. You were always so kind.”

“Suck up is more like it.”

The clown sighed. “I think it’s time to say goodbye now fellas.”

“Hyuck. Goodbye now fellas.”

“Nooooo!”

“Sorry Charlie. Goodbye Edgar. Goodbye Mortimer.”

“I hope that it won’t be another decade or more before we see you again.”

“We’ll see, Edgar. We’ll see.”

The clown took the batteries out of the mechanism, put the mechanism into the trunk with the dummies, then closed the lid. He and his son walked toward the attic ladder. His son looked back.

“Do you hear that?”

The clown sighed. “Yeah. They always kick and scream when I put them away.”

My eyes slowly opening to catch the daylight My soul slowly closing, hiding in shadows My Heart slowly crumbling like dry leaves

Every day just the same Good Morning Good Night

But when am I supposed to live? School Work Duties Expectations

From the moment I open my eyes in the morning Awaking from my sweet little dreams Snatched from my peace Forced to awake in the reality A life I’ve never chosen

I have to perform I have to wear a mask But still it’s never enough Always good never the best Always helping never helped Always loving never loved Always admiring but never admired

Like I would live in the dark In deep spooky shadows Where no light finds a friend Untouched from warmth and stillness Far away from any peace and hope Snatched from life

I have to meet everyone’s expectations Even if that means I have to act like someone else Someone I don’t want to be But someone society expects

But still I have to be happy to live and be myself Even if that „me“ doesn’t exist anymore There’s just that made up version Just a little sketch Chaos Drawn and designed by everyone but me

I have to go to sleep with hope in my chest Even if, in reality, I never want to wake up again Just sink into my own invented world Far away from all the pain and hate Created by the people who truly fear it

“It was just for fun,” we all say in different interrogation rooms. We have all planned the same conversation so that the police wouldn’t arrest us, but I’m waiting in an interrogation room for the police officer to ask me questions. I have my head placed on the table where I rest my hands beside it, covering up the mistake I am next about to make. My friends don’t know what I have in store, but it is my duty to protect them so I’m going to lie. The walls are not caving in as I am able to keep myself strong.

Then I move my head up as I hear the door opening to reveal a young police officer. He looks around my age, 20 something but there a few strands of grey in his hair. “Freddie,” he says. “Can you tell me what you and your friends were doing in the warehouse?” I remain silent till he sits in front of me before I fake confess.

“I dragged my friends to the warehouse to find her dead body because I killed her. There is no evidence tying me to it because I got rid of what would be needed, and I didn’t think this moment would have come. I made them tell the same lie to you, that we went to the warehouse for fun since it’s Halloween. But really, I killed her. Take my word for it. Arrest me. Torture me,” I say making direct eye contact with the police officer who smirks to himself.

“Thank you,” he says chuckling, “you’ve made my job easier. Freddie Smith you’re under arrest for the murder of Asha Nolan.”

"We have to act on it soon before it's too late!" Achilles shouted, "I'm tired of waiting!" "But you must think! The prophecy-" "Damn the prophecy Patroclus! We have to act now or else we will all be dead!" "Achilles. I can't lose you too." His voice trembled as he spoke. "I need you" Achilles slipped over his tunic and sighed, looking away for a moment. "I have a meeting. We can discuss this after. I'll see you later, okay?" He said before kissing Patroclus' forehead and leaving the tent. He just sat there as he watched the boy leave. He clenched his fists and wiped his eyes. Achilles had always been too stubborn for his own good and rarely changed his mind once it was set. It made Patroclus mad but, at the same time, it was one of the things he loved most about him.

It was a rather warm day out, nicer than the past few. Patroclus made his way down to the creek in the woods and found a nice patch of shade underneath a tree, resting for a moment. "Hey," A familiar voice said. He turned around to see Briseis and nodded at her. "May I?" She asked, gesturing to the spot next to him. "Of course," And with that she sat down with him, facing the creek. "What happened?" She asked in a knowing tone. "What makes you think something has happened?" "I know you Patroclus. I know you only come down here when you need space to think." He chuckled at that, picking up a stone and throwing it. "I guess I do that a lot huh." He offered her a stone to throw. She gladly took it and chucked it into the creek. A few moments of silence passed between the two. It was comfortable nonetheless, the soft rustle of the trees and the water from the creek creating a comfortable atmosphere. "It's Achilles. He's seriously just thinking about barging in." "And you don't think this is a smart choice?" She asked. "It could risk us all death! I mean we could all die. He could die. I can't lose someone like him. I love him Briseis," She looked at him, her eyes soft and tender with understanding. She walked closer to him and kneeled, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Patroclus you and I both know Achilles would put you before anyone, even himself. It would probably be the same if you were in his shoes. He will only want whatever is best for you." "What if he dies? What if I die?" "He will give you death, and you will still love him for it," Patroclus stopped. He knew she was right. "Talk to him," She said. "He may not listen to others but I know he will always listen to you." He nodded and looked at her. "Thank you." She smiled back, squeezing his shoulder slightly. "Now go. Lover boy's waiting for you," He smiled and hugged her before running out of the forest.

My friends warned me, why didn’t I listen. They told me not to come but I did. Its creepy and old, this house is broken and destroyed. Tiles creek and lift as I walk up the stairs. Carpets on the floor gone and destroyed, noises are heard coming from the attic. I look around the upstairs and walk into the kids bedroom, tired it is, there’s the bunk bed for twins with worn out stuffed animals on the beds. I turn and look into the mirror, my eyes burned as I felt my reflection shift in a way I didn’t. I ignore it and turn around to leave. Just then I heard a noise from the mirror. I turn around and nothing happened so I ignore it and go to leave. When in that moment something jumps at me from behind, a version of me. I barely got to see him for a second as I blacked out, and that was the last place I was ever seen, at least the real me. As I’m still trapped in this mirror for eternity.

Night goes dark Light loses the lark When birdsong goes Its eerily quiet.

A clear night Winter cold Summer warm Stars shine bright.

At night Spiders fright At a loud snore Run to pour out a web of silk.

Moving silently Through the carpet In the bath By a window Or room corner, The spiders spin Silk of web Web of silk.

The loud snore A human sleeps Fitfully Warmly No cheese A good dream With cheese Oh nooooooo A nightmare.

Sweats and shivers Wide awake A quick trip To the bathroom. Breathe slowly. Breathe normally. Return to the duvet.

Back to sleep In the dark, dark night These, modern times Theres a little light As a message appears bright On that blasted phone.

Nooooooo...... Woken Sigh.....not again By the ding The annoying ding Of the mobile phone.

What now? A dumb message Its two a.m. Sighs........ As a car screeches Noise!

Then all is quiet Eerily so Drifting off Under the duvet Blue and dark Return to sleep As the spiders Start their creep All over the home.

Deeply breathe Deeply snore Deeply sleep. No wake till morn And the annoying horn Of the alarm... ...honking. Night has gone Dark has left And light has come.

Set on foot identifiying on the darkened path. The wisps that are haunting will escape. She will save them, she's their hero. Its her dream to walk back and from. She had to go... Drifting into seeing or hearing of her again. Well lit path and her only life brings them back to life. They lose hope further inside the mysterious woods. What's there are lives have been seen a spirit lasting impressions. They kept talk with her they seen her and know her. She will be back this time she was seen and slaughtered to death. Her very own sight will give them their life back in a frame set by herself. They all needed to know what she of all seen its her new home; she went home. Her happy place is her own world, something that can only understand her and only her. They never met inside taking her life and making this world her way to understand, it was not her being imposed or invited. Of all that needed to rest set aside her own path and tired paws; nothing to rest a shoulder. Lifeless to her encounter. Of all can see the hearing of the winded forest of death and sports and know it like she does. the memory of her last visions ended giving her own life to plead to know what was always there going on in unknown communications. Unknown and unfamiliar awareness to what was strange making struggle to not be able to identify with the only one can be needed. Reached at out of the woods caught into a fragile state. The last spirit realm deserted without her died and screamed without her there keeping them safe. She vaguely remembers victims by name and scratched by ill fated gore. One by one put to their own death. Nothing ever rested, Nothing ever escaped. She seen the most explanation of death to their pure life and things to lose. All life treasured and used and lived growth was a path into her world. Leave it all- it was all a trap to keep them from the start. Making them wail and lose their senses in darkness. The darkened path set a frost that burned to the touch. All pry to set themself free what attempt made them slip into their life burning visible to her screaming and wailing vanish into a mist. Now they all are wandering mists. Any life they were to her was not clarifying near her own fatal captive death. The unfriendly approach made by what grabbed her betrayed her (a cat)...

It wasn’t everyday that the F.L.I.N.C.H (Finding Likeable Incredibly Nasty Cats Hiding) Organization had a party, but when they did, it was memorable.

“Their party is toast,” Mister Kitteh hissed, when he got the info from their mole on the inside.

“Heh heh yes indeed!” The mole whined.

“Get this mole outta here,” Mister Kitteh swiped a paw at the wretched creature before the Kitteh Minions kicked him out.

“Tonight we CRASH this party!”

“Do you think the party will go without a hitch?” Agent 001 asked her partner, Agent 001.a.

“I think not,” 001.a said. “And that’s the point.”

“Heh heh yes indeed!” The mole giggled.

The salmon mousse had just been set out when a crashing noise came from the ceiling.

“Ha!” Mister Kitteh cried as he leapt onto the dance floor. “You’re finished, FLINCH!”

Everyone clapped. Kitteh looked confused.

“Happy Birthday, Mister Kitteh!” The entire floor of FLINCH agents applauded and balloons and confetti fell.

“You … remembered!” The likable yet nasty cat clapped his paws together in delight.

“Of course!” The mole squeeked. “I’m a double agent, you see.”