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Weekly Contest #330
Why isn't he dead? He's supposed to be dead. For five fucking years, he has been gone, buried under the ground. Which usually means not living. Non-breathing. No shit to that when you are dead. But he showed up on my doorstep, speaking and looking very alive. "Good morning, princess. We need to talk. If you will let me?" And I stood silent, staring. Because I was the man who threw him in prison all those years ago. And I was the one who got him killed. I promise, I'm not psychotic. I just needed him gone. He was an evil man taken off the str...
Weekly Contest #296
July 4, 2045Log Entry 1Dear Father,I wish I could be better. I wish I could fix everything that happened to you and my own broken mind. This used to be your favorite day, you know. The Fourth of July was one of the only days when we would pretend you weren't sick and you could drink all night until the only stars you could see were the ones in your own eyes. I should have done better and not let you go off that night about how Mother left us with nothing but an empty house that just gave terrible memories of me to you. I should have said, "I...
Weekly Contest #282
Walking down the long winding road, a lonely, sad girl saw the snow. It came in a flurry, covering the road, and made her freeze. She hadn't seen snow since he died. Her father. Not a man named He. Her breath caught in her throat, and a slight strangled noise escaped her lips. Not today. When the girl reached the front door, she paused for a second. Her mother was inside, probably staring out the window blankly. She couldn't let her mother see the snow. The girl walked inside and saw her mom on the ground. Strange. She usually sleeps in a be...
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