Short stories & poems

The sunlight streams through the windows, illuminating the things in its path. Where the long forgotten are found. Where the room will fill with heat. Where the walls are highlighted with soft, pale brush strokes. Where a naturally golden blond glitters over the remains of our past selves. Where the shadows will waver overcome by the brightness, Because evan in the light there is darkness.

But I’m exhausted inside My head . Can’t think . straight Drowning out. The voices And the demons in my mind Can’t stop overthinking

Bout what should of been What could of been us But I had to mess it all up

Got an angels spark But a devils heart

Wicked and wise Yet heartless at times I cry. Behind these blinds. In thses times of silence To block out the noises In my head and my heart You where the one Not because of your charm But because of your heart I know loves stupid sum Times sinking ship In the ocean of tears I would weep in my sleep

Checked, Check, Mate.

I’d been played, The one who caved, In on your unpaid plans, Still yet to be made.

To think you could be saved, By the split personalities You’ve so carefully made.

My womb wasn’t enough For the babies I bore— You didn’t change, Though I tried to restore, Only to find myself drained.

Checked, Check, Mate.

With a mused mind, Barren behind the eyes, Typed in curved, Shouting in slurred words— Palms full of rage.

In mummy’s grasp, You became her missing rib, Building an emotional hardship.

And as the law will glower upon me, My debts, now paid, Will always become yours.

In the Lord’s law, Positioned below, You’ll be treated no better, Singing your tales of woe.

Checkmate.

The smell of fresh and new cleaning products swam into my nostrils as I walked forward, into the museum. The inside was bright, yet ever so dusty as I continued walking. For some odd reason, there was nothing really on the old green walls. It seemed almost like the wall itself was the art piece, yet I knew that was far from the untold truth. And the very reason I knew, was because there was a single panting on the wall.

The painting had streaks of paint slashed accord with different abstract shapes covering the page. It felt right hanging on the wall, the green blending with the blue in the strangest of ways as it hung there on the nail.

I looked for anyone, anyone I could ask to see where the rest of the paintings had gone.

But I was alone, standing in a large room, glancing at a large wall. And I only hoped someone could help me.

The painting looked like a painting made by a famous painter only in there first or second year of painting. It looked less of a masterpiece and more like a clue of some sorts the longer I stared at it.

Then I understood. I understand all of it, the reason the museum was empty, the reason I left to come here rather then the park. I understand it all.

I walked forward to the panting and carful not to touch the paint, I turned it upside down. With a click, then a ding, it opened like a safe door.

And unfortunately, the only thing on the other side was a paper, and a body.

The thick black velvet caresses my body as it falls to the floor, covering every inch of my body yet exposing everything.

“You look beautiful.” My sister, Claire, says from behind me.

“I don’t think beautiful is the goal here. This is a funeral, after all.” I look back at the full length mirror. The black clashes with my light skin and makes my lifeless blonde hair look even more colorless than normal.

“It’s what Mom would’ve wanted. You know that.” Claire opens the jewelry box on the dresser and pulls out a string of our mother’s favorite pearls. The paint that once made them almost pass as real is chipping, but they are lovely nonetheless. She places them around my neck. Despite the cold of the little beads, they’re a surprising comfort against my skin.

“I can’t believe it’s just us now.” I play with the small beads between my fingers in attempt to stop the welling tears from cascading over my haphazardly applied makeup.

You’d think that the years she fought cancer would prepare us for this day, but there was nothing that could have prevented the devastation I’ve felt over the past few days. Stopped the tears from flowing freely. Or unknotted the anguish that gathered in the pit of my stomach.

Claire hugs me from behind, her tight, dark curls rubbing against my face. The smell of her coconut shampoo fills my nose, something familiar in this new life I have to figure out how to live. Her embraces are all that’s getting me through.

“I promise I’ll never leave you if I can help it.” She says as she pulls away. “We’re in this together. Forever.”

I nod. “We’ll always have each other. No matter what.”

Violet’s pulse raced and she felt her throat constrict the moment her fingers ran through the fabric of the dress.

“You are mine”

She heard the voice as if it whispered directlty into her ear. She jumped and spun around, but of course no one was there. Subconciously her fingers reaced up to the spot on her neck. She could feel the pin pricks of pian. She almost expected her fingers to come away with blood on the. But there was nothing.

Her mind took her back to that night.

It was cold and there was a light mist in the air. The moon was full. She was on her way home from the party. A party she never wanted to go to. Her friend, Megan (or so she had thought at the time) urged Violet go with her. Megan told her she didn’t want to go alone, she insisted that Violet needed to go out have some fun, be more carefree and open to expeirence. Finally Violet agreed. She wore a black crushed velvet dress.

A dress like the one she ran her fingers through. the dress which appered on her bed, though she did not put it there.

Of course once they got to the party Megan abandonded her. Violet could not find Megan anywhere. Finally Violet gave up and deided to leave. Because the night was cold and damp, but bright from the light of the moon Violet decided to take a short cut through the park.

As Violet walked she suddenly became aware of how eeriely silent the park became. She could not even here the sound of the wind whispering through the trees or the distant city sounds. She stopped a moment and looked around her, The mist suddenly seemed thicker but the moon was still bright and clear above.

Then suddenly her eyes fell upon the pale figure. She was certain she was alone before. Where did her come from? She felt strangely tansfixed. Oddly she did not feel fear, but she also did not feel as if she could move.

After that she does not remeber what happened. She woke up in the hospital, though there were no signs of injury, they told her she was found passed out in the park.

Once she got home she through away the dress, the dress that was now on her bed. Her eyes glanced up to the window and she realized it was another full moon night.

The fabric between Isabel’s fingers is smooth, slightly rough from being stored in a box over the years. She had almost forgotten that night all together, this one dress holding her in the past. She remebered the dancing, the smell of cigarettes, and cheap cologne. She could almost remember the feeling of his hands on hers. They were dancing for hours, soaking up the presence of eachother. She hadnt worn the dress since then, not sure if it would even fit her anymore. She tucked it back into the box, back into the corner of her closet along with the memories.

I don’t know what happened. I was walking along the musty aisles of a Goodwill I decided to visit and my arm brushed along a velvet red dress hanging on the racks. The moment I touched the dress, I was taken to somewhere else. A place from a time long ago where people used to go for a good time. To get away from their troubles in the world. The club was dark. An easy dark where you could feel comfortable with yourself. Loud frantic music playing…Jazz I think it was. The chaotic sounds of Charlie Parker were striking out over the air coupled with the smoky haze of lucky strike cigarettes. I could smell her perfume mingled with sweat. We had been dancing to the rhythm of Parkers’ saxophone. The memory is getting clearer now. Her velvet red dress becoming brighter in the hazy darkness. The cherry red was the only thing clear in the room. It was intoxicating. This mystery woman whom I had been dancing with looked up at me. I can barely make out her eyes, but what I do know is there was love in them. Love for me, whoever I was. As quick as it came, it was over. I was standing there right next to this red velvet dress. Tears welled up in my eyes as I looked at the dress. I wouldn’t say I am a hopelessly romantic man, but for the first time in a long time, I felt the warmth of love from that dress. I never found out who that woman was but my thoughts will drift to her from time to time. A blurry vision of loveliness that will haunt my heart for the rest of my days.

I was having the best 10th birthday party ever. Were were eating dinner when one of my friends suggested we finish up our dinner quickly so that we could play hide and seek. We all shoveled as much food as we could into our mouths. We all ran out into the street and decided on rules. You can’t go indoors, you can’t go on other people’s properties, and you can’t go out of the neighborhood. We played a good 4 rounds until an boy came out of his house, as we were deciding the seeker. “Hello, there. I’m Johnathan. Can I play?” The boy says. “Of course!” My friend responds, a little too quickly. “I’ll seek.” He says flatly. We all agre and disperse to find hiding places. He counts to 20, then comes to find us. I hear a scream, and someone yelllng help. This was a strategy us girls used to help the seeker when we got found to make the other hiders come out. “Very authentic,” I thought. Then, I hear a door slam. Then another scream. This time, it was someone else. Then another door slam. Then, one last scream. Now, I was starting to get worried. Another door slams. I get up to see where everyone went. That was everybody who came to the party, so I must have won. “Okay, I won. Where is everyone?” All of the sudden, Johnathan grabs my arm and pulls me toward a van. I scream. He slides open the van door and pushes me in there. Inside is a man with a knife, in front of my friends, shushing everyone who tries to scream, and threatens them with the knife. None of us ever went to a party again. Or had a party. Or any birthday at all.

Dear Celeste,

I have a secret. I have hid it for so long now, and if I don’t reveal it, it may cost me my life. I have a hunter who is tracking me, and now knows everything I know. If I don’t tell someone, the tracker will tell everyone, and people may want to hurt me. I’ll just have to say it, then. My hunter may be watching, so I must go now. Meet me at Greenwood park at 12:00 am on Saturday. I must go now. See you Saturday. Love, June.

I quickly scribble this on a piece of note paper and put in through Celeste’s mail box. It’s Friday night at 7:32, and I have to meet her at midnight. I hope she checks her mail often. I have a secret. A big secret that endangers my life at times, and I need Celeste’s help.

At midnight, I wait at the park, on a bench, with a black cloak on my shoulders and my hood over my head. When Celeste walks by, not noticing me due to my camouflage, I pull her toward me, and she screams. I cover her mouth and pull off my hood to show her it is me. “It’s just me. June.” I say. “Oh, good.” She says, catching her breath. “Anyways, what was it you had to tell me?” She asks. “You’d better sit down.” I warn. We both take a seat and I look all around myself to check if there is anyone watching. “I have superpowers and there is people who want me for it.” Her jaw drops. She is speechless. All of the sudden, people dressed in black cloaks like mine appear out of the brush surrounding the park. They circle Celeste and I as we stand up and turn back to back. One of the people, supposedly the leader steps forward and says, “We’ve got you now, ‘Superhero.’”