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Krystal Renee

Author on Reedsy Prompts since May, 2025

Stories (14)

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17 Followers

7 Following

14 Stories

330 karma pts

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The Boy Who Chose Me First

Submitted to Contest #330

Jared was my first boyfriend, though he didn’t arrive with butterflies, giggles, or secrets. He came quieter than that, like an undercurrent beneath the ribs, something steady humming beneath all the noise of being fourteen. He was the first boy who let me try on a version of myself I hadn’t lived in yet, someone normal, someone unbroken, someone not defined by disease. We used one another as shields, two kids pretending we knew how to be the people everyone else expected us to be. He needed the safety of saying he had a girlfriend; I nee...

13 likes

Between Memory and Oblivion

Submitted to Contest #328

People are destroying my home today. They’ve brought heavy machinery, handheld tools, nails, saws, and hammers. The floors will crumble to dust, and the machines will screech through the halls. As I go room to room, making sure nothing is left on the floor, a box pokes out from the closet in my office. I should have tossed it. I crouch, rifle through it, and find a journal buried at the bottom. My stomach twists. I push the journal away as if it’s poison, and then, despite myself, I open it. Ink floods the pages from a time I tried to bury....

8 likes

Porcelain and Steel

Submitted to Contest #318

I am the puppet master. I tinker, rebuild, polish. Most shine beneath my hand. But this one, this girl is stubborn, damaged, unworthy of the stage. I acquired her through an accident. The other masters turned away, unwilling to waste their craft on her fractured frame. Her performance embarrassed them; her limbs betrayed her. But me? I have always liked a challenge. I can fix her. I can get her to perform again. The show must go on. Her limbs collapse, dangling like wet spaghetti. I pull harder, the wires slicing into my own flesh, but there...

12 likes

The Art of Withstanding

Submitted to Contest #314

It was the hottest day of the year. As I turned my back to the sun’s rays, blisters danced along my shoulders, and each breath filled my lungs with fury and hot air. Smoke drifted into my nostrils, and I grinned, knowing it wasn’t me who was on fire. I pressed my hands to the crimson-red wood of the deck, and as water dripped from my fingertips, the planks sizzled like a hot pan. My hands were cool but puckered from being submerged in water. I stood on tiptoes to reach the deck, the crinkled floor beneath me flooded and etched lines into my ...

5 likes

She Calls Me Monster

Submitted to Contest #313

“Are you there, God? It’s me, The Monster. Or so that is what she calls me.” I am bewildered by her hatred of me. I had spent nearly a decade in preparation, studying, outlining, and training for when the time was right to strike. I lay low for years in my study and all for her. She never saw my sacrifices or effort; she simply went on living her life without acknowledging me at all. I want to scream, “How dare you?!” each time she curses my name or cries in agony. She is unaware of my power, my abilities, and, most of all, that I am saving...

12 likes

Where the Dark Leaked Out

Submitted to Contest #310

Sparkle, wonder, magic, and fantasy worlds exploding with vibrant colors were the eclipse to her sorrow. Pretending she was good at it, you’d never see anyone put on such a well-executed facade, and the imagination that ignited when she closed her eyes made her money. She could fill the darkness with color as if scribbling over black with a rainbow could ever mask the night. She was an author of magic, and wrote all the things into books that she was not equipped with, and she was good at it. Published author well known for igniting child...

19 likes

The Shadow That Didn't Follow

Submitted to Contest #309

Standing in a dark room, I look around and find emptiness, nothing. Where am I? I turn and see a bit of reflection, a window, but there is no light coming from the window, just more darkness. I would have never seen it had I not begun tracing the walls with my fingertips to find where the walls joined, to find where they became corners. I wasn’t panicked, I wasn’t even agitated, but curiosity filled my insides. What was this place? I approach the glass and place a single finger against it, cold. The glass is cold. Is this how I get out? I tr...

13 likes

A Shoreline Without Footprints

Submitted to Contest #308

The intensity of waves crashing against boulders sent vibrations from my toes to my legs. I could feel the crashing force and beauty by simply standing right here at the edge, and I could see the beauty and rhythm of the ocean by looking down. The sun was causing my shoulders to blush gently with its warmth. I could allow my feet to be planted here forever; they’d eventually sprout roots, and I could become one with the very cliff I now stand upon. I didn’t want to leave the cliff’s ledge, razor-thin difference between up here and becoming p...

9 likes

Fracture Lines: Craniotomy Notes, Day One

Submitted to Contest #306

June 23rd, 2021AMAnother day, another dollar. I am doing my best to remember these daily entries to keep myself focused and composed. Composed? How cute that I think I could ever be composed. I am feverish to write and yet never quite know where to start or end. Irrelevant, these cheap little writing exercises I give myself upon waking feel tiring. I am writing, though. Every day I am writing, it is a habit, a ritual, and a promise I keep to myself. I am a bit anxious today about some meetings at work, maintenance is coming to the house duri...

15 likes

I Was Never Going Nowhere

Submitted to Contest #305

Feeling the thump of bass in my bones from the blaring music, I felt alive. My ears rang from the songs playing far too loudly, but I didn’t care. I had no care in the world. My foot on the gas didn’t feel heavy or tired; it felt only effortless. My foot was as committed to getting where I was going, and to who I was chasing, as my heart. I was chasing freedom. I had changed my entire life and direction in just a few months. I was no longer held hostage by the restraints of my inabilities or insecurity. I was about to become brand new. I san...

10 likes

Too Tired to Shine

Submitted to Contest #305

At some point, the mask always slips and the disguise comes off. The one she’s carefully crafted over decades. Flawless on the surface, tailored to every social cue, and cracks just enough to let the truth bleed through. She has been performing for so long, she could hardly notice the effort anymore. She knows when to smile, when to frown, and when to stay silent while the room erupts around her. She has worn the mask so well that she forgets it’s there. But today is different. Today, she’s slipping. Today, she wanted to quit, just for today...

22 likes

What the Night Knows

Submitted to Contest #304

Daylight in childhood is like air, unquestioned, constant. The sun rises faithfully, drawing patterns across the day that teach us rhythm, trust, and time. In sunlight, the world is awake, alive, functioning. Daylight means movement and possibility; it brings hope as it casts out the darkness of the moon. Summer memories blur, not from lack of meaning, but from the sheer speed of joy: chlorinated air, aloe-slicked skin, the sting of ice cream on young teeth. Daylight pulses like a second heartbeat, each moment moving fast and bright, burning...

10 likes

Held Together by Wire

Submitted to Contest #302

Held Together by WireKrystal Renee My eyes clenched shut in fear of the artificial suns above me as I continued to scream, “You have to help me,” over and over. “Please help me.” The room was filled with sterile, composed, but bustling people, like a busy sidewalk. Each person had a job, a role, and a responsibility. None of them looked directly at me. I kept screaming, “Please help me,” as if I were begging along that very sidewalk. I was there for them, after all. Finally, as I began to tire, a man in a white coat appeared above me. He was...

12 likes

The Breaking of Resilience

Submitted to Contest #301

The Breaking of Resilience Krystal Renee Resiliency is a worn, tattered jacket I keep tucked away in the depths of a closet. I did not need the jacket until catastrophe struck. Though frayed, old, and out of style, it’s comfortable—my go-to when nothing else works. The jacket collects dust most days, but it’s still my favorite tool. I store it in the darkest corner of the closet in hopes it will bring me peace. Resiliency is for life. Even on days when I’m flying through the water in the pool or walking through the gardening store to buy pla...

3 likes