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Her Place – Short Story

I never had an imaginary friend when I was little but I did have a crazy imagination that created an imaginary world.  Whenever I am stressed or bored I wander into my world to escape reality and create more characters.

Enjoy the short story.

Her place

 

She walks into her house after a long, tiring day; dragging her feet up the stairs to flop onto the couch.  The couch welcomes her with open arms as she lies down.

She opens her bag to grab a notebook that was sitting neatly, side by side her generous collection of novels; feeling the crisp edge of the pages as she opens it.  Seeing the lines run across the page, as if the lines are competing to get to the edge.

Her mind wanders off into her world; as she begins to write.  Word by word you can smell the lead from the pencil as it scrolls across the page.  She creates three eyed monsters, with long fanged teeth, and rock and roll hairdos that walk around her world and have different purposes in her stories.  Having millions of monsters, with weird names, multiplying each and every day, she has created her own world.  She is safe here.

She glances around the room and spots an innocent plant.  As she stares at it, she begins to imagine the roots of the plant breaking out of their ceramic prison.  Dirt spills all over the floor, then begins to cluster together and snakes upward forming the head of a monster.  The green leaves turn purple, as the monster steps out of the broken pot.  Its head, too heavy for its neck, lurches to the side, crashing suddenly into the wall.  The remaining dirt drifts up off the ground to give rise to clawed fingers reaching out for her. The monster completes its expansion and stands in the middle of the room, undulating like a branch in a storm.

“Ding dong,” the doorbell chirps, signifying a return to the real world.  She watches as her creature disappears, as if a wind had wafted into the room and carried it away like dust.

My bloody conscience – Short Story

I thought I would continue my brave streak and post a short story up that I wrote two years ago.  My writing teacher really liked it so I hope whoever reads this post enjoys this story.

My bloody conscience

The sun was shining, the birds were singing and the grass was greener then it ever was.

I lay on the grass; I did not care about the world.

Hey excuse me, I opened my eyes but the sun’s ray shone right into it them.  Hey, the voice exclaimed again.

My eyes finally adjusted to see blood all over me.   I started screaming, “I didn’t mean to, it was an accident!”

I closed my eyes again, then opened them; the blood was gone, but the tool that I stabbed into him lay there.  “No, please, it wasn’t my fault, David made me do it, if I hadn’t, then I would be dead.”

I got up and started running away, as fast as I could.  I screamed as I saw the body in front of me, again, “Why?” As my knees melted to the ground, I begged, “Why?”

I started crying. I put my hands over my eyes and my head fell to the ground.

“Miss, are you ok? You’re scaring the children,” murmured an innocent bystander who was witnessing my panic.

Voices filled my head, kill him, he knows, he will call the cops.

“No!”  I said as I picked up the bloody tool from the ground, “I did nothing wrong.”

The man looked worried “Hey, where did that knife come from?”

“I did nothing wrong,” I screamed and stabbed him in the stomach.

I looked around to see what I had done, “No, no, I’m so sorry. Someone help please.”

No one is going to help you; I looked around to see him standing in front of me.

“Please, I didn’t mean too, David made me-”

David made me do it, he would have killed me, he started to mock me. He’s not real.  He didn’t make you do anything, it was you.  He started to laugh.

I grabbed the knife from the innocent man’s stomach and lunged forward with it, but my heckler was gone.