Short Stories and POEM

Bryan gripped the old wooden handle of the pickaxe harder as he readied himself for another swing. A stinging bead of sweat dripped into his eye, causing him to pause and wipe his brow. For a moment, he allowed himself to gaze into the shimmering amber crystal embedded deep into the rock. It was beautiful –the way it caught the torchlight and cast dappled golden light on the rough mine walls. Focus, Bryan chided himself. There was work to be done.
Over the next hour, Bryan methodically filled his basket with a pile of crystal fragments. He had spent years in that mine, and worked faster than any other miner in Fenswyck. Sometimes, he worked long after the others had finished and started their long trek back into the village. Those days, like today, Bryan lost himself in his solitude, filling the mine with the tink tink tink of his pickaxe.
Bryan looped his pick through the basket’s handles and used it to hoist the fruits of his labor onto his shoulder. Despite the basket’s size and overflowing capacity, it was very light. He trudged towards the pitch-black hole that was meant to be the entrance. How late did I stay this time? He snatched the torch from its soot-stained sconce and held it aloft, lighting the path ahead.
The sky outside was a deep black, but the nearly full moon painted the woods silver. Bryan was grateful for the light; it meant he didn’t have to lug the torch around. He put it out and leaned it by the mine entrance. With both hands free, he gripped the basket tighter. The journey back was silent, save for Bryan’s footsteps and the occasional owl call. Nothing was out at this time of night –nothing holy anyway. He wasn’t afraid. For all twenty of Bryans’ years in Fenwick, the Grand Mage had kept them shielded with powerful magic. The beasts that lurked in the shadows never came close to their woods.
Bryan had seen paintings of the creatures in the mines. Old paintings depicting horrors with too many eyes and too few limbs, huddling in the dark like some noxious tar clinging to the wall. Bryan wasn’t afraid. They had the crystals, after all. Every full moon, the Grand Mage carried out his casting of the spells and charms that protected Fenswyck using the amber crystals. Bryan, for all his devotion to the mines, didn’t know what power the gems truly held. He didn’t want to. His job was to mine them, and bring them back to the village. He just hoped he wouldn’t oversleep the ritual the next day.
Bryan had made his way out of the pine woods and into the meadow that bordered Fenswyck when he felt a sharp pain in his heel. He cursed and juggled the basket of crystal fragments as he kicked around the pebble that had appeared in his boot. He set the basket down and yanked his boot off, letting the pebble fly out. It landed on the dirt path with a noise that was unnaturally loud. Matthias froze. His ears twitched. There was no other noise –no more owls, no insects, not even the whistling in the trees. He hadn’t noticed the silence before, but now it was deafening.
Still crouched down, Bryan looked around, scanning the meadow and the trees. The moonlight seemed to be fading, light to dark, silver to gray. Without knowing why, his heart began to beat faster. There. There was something, across the meadow. Impossibly framed against the dark sky –a black shape. Bryan stared, watching the figure move across the meadow. As it neared, he could see that it was a man in a robe walking alongside a wooden cart. Alongside? Bryan thought in disbelief. The cart was moving itself gently along through the grass. They were getting closer and closer. Bryan wanted to run, but it was too late now. He’d be seen. He remained there, crouched on the dirt road. The man and the cart stopped. Bryan stared. A glint of gold flashed from the cart. Crystals, Bryan thought, a thief! He prepared to dash from cover and rouse the town.
He stopped as the man lit a torch with sudden flash of green fire and removed his hood, revealing the Grand Mage’s tangled gray mane. It was unmistakable from any distance. The fear should have left Bryan’ heart, but something wasn’t right. He watched as the Mage gestured his hands up to the sky, splaying his fingers wildly. Bryan watched wide-eyed as shards of the amber crystals began dancing up into the air around the old man. They swirled in a cloud, catching the unnatural green firelight. The Grand Mage began to chant. They were harsh words, booming into the night. Something caught Bryan’ eye from the trees up the path, a flash of movement came, then another. Bryan’ breath caught. Things were breaking free of the woods and streaming towards the Grand Mage in the meadow. Bryan wasn’t close enough to see, and for that he was grateful. The masses moved oddly in the dark, with inhuman motions that swept them through the trees and grass clumsily.
They crowded around the green torchlight. Bryan could see them now: with their too-many eyes and too-few limbs. They thronged under the crystals, dancing and swaying in utter silence. The Grand Mage let out a final booming word. The crystals fell from the air into the mass of limbs and shadows. The torch went out. The Grand Mage and his cart made their way back across the meadow slowly, leaving behind darkness, and the sounds of crystals cracking and crunching between hungry black teeth.

All my life I’ve wanted to teach. To give the next generation knowledge of the past so that they can use it to make a difference in the future.
I’ve gone from School to School teaching all sorts of children. The smart type who brim with great potential, the type to mess around and cause trouble, and the shy ho just need a little push to get there on their feet. There aren’t any children that I haven’t seen or been unable to teach.
I can proudly say that I am the best at the doing what I love, and though I could teach every child at any School, I only select those who are considered the worst type of trouble. Not paying attention, throwing paper airplanes, giving off attitude. I look for those and I change them, correct them. It’s what I do best.
That’s why, when I received a letter requesting my aid at St. Cain’s Private School known for harboring very specially troubled kids, I knew that this was a challenge I could not reject.
My heels clap against the grey pavement as I approach the tall black gate that is the entrance to St. Cain’s Private School .The School itself is made up of red brick, some sort of clear white cement holding it together. The School seems stands strong, radiating a strong sense of authority.
A small silver panel is attached to the gate with three plastic buttons with text. I press the plastic button titled, ‘reception’ and a buzzing sound rings on contact. There’s a long silence that makes me feel like the School is closed, a silence so long that I even start to turn around to leave when with a small beep, a voice finally comes through and responds.
“Hello?” The dull female voice calls from the intercom.
“Yes hello, this is Megan Lennon. I’m a new teacher that’s supposed to be-.” There’s a wiring sound from the other end which only lasts a moment before the line cuts to silence… Again, I’m left waiting in another long silence that just takes up the air around me. I stand there awkwardly, slightly annoyed even, but then nearly taken by shock when the gate scratches against the surface of the ground as it opens outward from me. I clear my throat as I quite too eagerly proceed into the School grounds.
The front yard is full of nature, flowers, well-kept bushes and a couple of fountains. But as a whole I find it unusually silent, unusually still… I walk up the few steps that lead up to a large brown double door and push against it, but only mid-way through the motion I find that the door gets lighter and that it’s being pulled away from me faster than I can push, and in turn, my body succumbing to the force of gravity.
I brace myself for the impact, my arms flying out before me to take it all, but I don’t hit the ground. I open my eyes, the ground inches away from me and I slowly turn myself around to see a tall man dressed in a fitted suit holding me. He pulls me up and I clear my throat, trying to settling my heart from the sudden shock of the fall.
“Th-Thank you.”
“No, that was my fault; I didn’t realize somebody was coming in.” He says in a monotone voice. “You’re our new teacher, correct?”
“Yes, I am. And not to sound rude or anything, but who are you?”
“Oh right, I am the principle of St. Cain’s.” He reaches out a hand and I shake it. His grip is strong.
“It is nice to meet you.” I respond.
He simply nods his head and turning and says, “This way.” As he starts guiding me down a long corridor, the walls made of glass, but the ceiling and floor that same red brick. The view is stunning with roses and dandelion pushes lining the exterior.
“I’m sure you read the email, but just to make sure, you do know these children are Dangerous, to say the least.”
“I am well aware, though I think calling them dangerous is in poor taste. That’s how you get the idea and those mannerisms into them; it’s how they turn out the way they do…” I argue, but he just laughs, which takes me back.
“I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to be so rude. It’s just… Well, you’ll see soon enough.”
We continue on till we eventually come to the third yellow door out of a series of five. The corridor is loud and being close to the doors now, I can hear the kids raging and making a mess.
“Sounds terrible in there…” I comment.
“They’re honestly not that bad, that’s just them when there isn’t a teacher in.” The Principle is just about to open the door when he stops in his tracks, “Oh right, before I forget. He hands me a protective vest, the sort you’d see police officers wear when going out into action. I laugh out loud,
“Are you serious?” The amused expression on my face drops when I see how stone cold serious he is.
“If you’d prefer to go in there without one, you’re free to do so. But I’d strongly advise against that. Strongly,” He says holding it in the air. After a moment of battling my own internal dilemma, I reluctantly put it on. Then, he opens the door…
As soon as we walk in the room instantly falls silent. The four rows of tables filled with students sitting still, backs straight and smiling innocently.
“Good morning Class 2-B, I see you’ve settled down.” He says walking up to the front of the classroom, just before the old school chalk whiteboard. “You have a new teacher today.” He points at me and I respond by waving and smiling as warmly as I can. First impressions are important; I want the children to know that I am on their side and that I’m nothing to fear.
“Treat her well.” The teacher smiles and the kids start to snicker. “I’ll leave you to it then.” The principle says nodding at me, a prompt informing me to take over. I smile and he leaves the room.
“Hello class, my name is Miss Lennon. I’ll be your teacher for some duration of time. “I say placing my bag down besides my new desk.
“Miss Lennon?” One of the students at the front calls out. I quick placing the stuff I need onto the table and get back up before addressing him.
“Yes?”
“Can you catch a knife?” He smirks.
“Um… “ I laugh nervously, “That’s a strange question-” My voice is cut off by a high pitch, yet quick whistling sound, followed by a sudden impact upon my chest that throws me back against the blackboard. I scream out in surprise and as I look down at my chest, my breathing increases to a rapid rate.
“D-Did you just… Throw a knife at me!?” I shout out in disbelief. The class roars into laughter.
I scramble to pick myself up and gently place both my hands onto the knife stuck onto my chest, I slowly pick it out allowing the object to drop out of my hand as soon as it was out. The knife clatters on the ground.
“Miss, you’re looking a little pale,” said a small girl also sitting at the front row of the classroom.
“I… I…” I fumble with my words, struggling to form any kind of sentence. I’m beyond grateful for the principle for the vest he had given, but then it sinks in… He knew. I pull myself, anger starting to brew within me, but the fear I now feel towards the children is still evident.
I clear my throat, “Who… Where did you get that knife from?”
“I got one when I came here Miss.” He smiles innocently, “But it’s nothing like my daddies, his one is a lot sharper he has a whole collection!”
“Oh shut it Brad, nobody wants to hear that story over and over again.” The tired voice comes from the top left corner of the classroom; on the last row is a male student with long shaggy hair, his head resting upon the desk.
I’ll cut off the mop on your head and rip out your heart.” Brad threatens, taking out another knife from under his desk. The two boys stand from their seats and slowly march up to one another. I instinctively run in between them my mind briefly forgetting that these students are armed and dangerous.
“L-Look you two, I don’t know how or where you got these weapons from, but you can’t use them. They’re not toys, put them down go to your seats, right now.”
The two points stop in their checks and look from myself, to each other and then back to me. Brad laughs.
“Miss, do you know where you are?”
“Y-Yes, St. Cain’s Private School…” I answer; feeling a bit puzzled at the sudden question.
“Exactly, a School that takes in troubled kids and trains them to become killers.” The boy with the shaggy hair continues.
“… What?” I look at them both, dumbfounded. I take a couple of step back from the two boys, my eyes begin to wonder around the room and I look upon all the faces of the children around me. I start to see crazed eyes upon some of their faces, I see scars and bruises evident on the fragile yet hardened skins of many of them.
Before I know it, I’ve backed myself up against the door of the classroom, my back pressing upon its rough wooden surface. Brad and the shaggy haired boy slowly approach me.
“Oh well isn’t this interesting Marcus!” Brad shouted.
“Oh… She didn’t know.” Marcus too concludes. “I think she might be our target for today.”
At the mention of the word everybody in the classroom seems to gain a simultaneous buzz of excitement. They start shuffling in their seats and whispering to each other, giggling and glancing over at me with mischievous smiles.
“I call dibs!” Brad shouts out, flexing the knife in his hand.
“You can’t call dibs, we have to wait for-” But before Marcus can finish what he’s saying, brad bolts from the spot and rushes towards me, his knife piercing through the air, its target: Me. My eyes wide open, heart pulsing fast and hard, all that I can think of is
“I’m going to die.”
Just before Brad reaches me I hear the knob of the door rattle and I jump away as it swings open. A the blurry motion of figure zooms past my vision and when I look back to the classroom, I see Brad on the floor, his head pressed against the ground and his hand twisted to his back. The knife lies on the ground besides him.
“So sorry about that Miss Lennon” The principle says keeping Brad in the hold.
“What… What…” Is all I can say as my legs fall week and my body droops to the ground? Everyone in the classroom, who isn’t sat, rushes to their seats, and those already sitting adjust their postures and take on the personas of well-behaved kids. I can’t seem to believe my eyes.
“I see you’ve warmed up to the kids a little bit, that’s good.” He looks me directly in the eyes and smiles.
“He… He tried to kill me!” I shout, my mind going from refusing to believe any of it, to acknowledging the truth of the situation. These kids are dangerous.
“Yes about that… I’m so very glad that you answered our request for a teacher here so quickly. But I’m afraid I may not have told you the full story and missed telling you what you’d be doing here exactly.” The principle lets go of Brad who jumps to his feet, rubbing at his wrist. He stares at me with an expression of hatred before turning around and returning to his seat.
“We sent you in without prior knowledge to see how you’d react, and to also give the children a taste of how their victim would act. It’s their first time you.”
“First time… What?” I ask him cautiously, not exactly wanting to hear the answer myself, but the question was out and the answer came just as quickly.
“This is first time attempting to kill someone.” He laughs, as if it were something obvious. “Well now that you know what we’re really doing here, I’ll tell you what you’ll be doing for us exactly. The door to the classroom is open. The campus is empty. You are to get as far as you can without these little ones killing you.
How long do you think you can survive?” He asks his smile still present on his face. Suddenly the school’s bell chimes, the principle looks at his watch and then back at him.
“Looks like it’s time. Run.” And with those words I turn on my heels and sprint out of the room.
This is too much, this can’t be happening, is this all really?? Are the questions flooding my mind as I run down the corridor I had gone up when I arrived? I find that I’m so focused on the thoughts within my mind and the sudden fright of the situation   that I forget to slow down and I slam right into the door. The force of the impact doesn’t throw me to the floor, but I quickly realize that the door is locked, even as I grasp the hands with a strong grip and desperately pull on them as hard as I can.
I turn to run in the opposite the direction, hoping that there’s another way to the entrance, but I soon as my body rotates, I’m met with the image of Brad standing by the classroom door,  knives in hand and smiling at me sweetly.
“Y-You don’t have to do this Brad, I’m sure you’re a sweet kid. If these adults are forcing you to do this, you don’t have to!” I plead to him, trying my best to get through to some tender and kind side of him. But when his expression drops, when I see the lack of life in his eyes and the words that follow, I know there’s no saving him from whatever darkness he was thrown into.
“Oh but Miss… I want to do this.” And with that he starts to slowly walk up to me, his arm stretched out besides him, allowing the knife to scrape against the surface of the wall, emitting a loud and irritating noise.
All I can do is shake my head in denial, allow the hot tears of despair to spill from my eyes, and my vision to be obscured by the towering structure of Brad as I collapse to the ground.

It’s 11:40pm; the moon’s glow is dimmed due to the dark clouds that rest in the night sky. A reflection of the tired and grumpy mood that I’m currently
I’ve had a long day at the office, the boss had been breathing down my neck all day, and the only thing that had gotten me through it all, aside from cup after cup of coffee, was the thought of eventually going home. My God I hate that guy, and he hates me too. But he has the power to make it worse for me and I just have to take it all. Fun fact though, there’s recently been some news about a bunch of masked killers going around, which I don’t know all the details as I don’t care for the news because my days are miserable enough. But the thought that there’s a chance my Boss could be killed by them any night now, puts a smile on my face.
The last 20 minutes feel worse than the previous 9 hours that I’d spent sitting at my office desk, but thankfully it’s finally time to go home.
Leaving the company building I amble my way into the car park, my legs feeling heavy with exhaustion with every single step that I take.
“Bloody office chairs.” I grumble as I take out my keys and unlock the car with the press of a button. I enter and relish in the feeling of my ass sinking into the soft rich material of the leather. It feels so good that I just take a moment and close my eyes and take it all in. Finally being able to sit down somewhere comfortable seemingly relieves all the aching pain my legs had built up throughout the day, and it’s truly bliss… But home is where I’ll feel even greater, and I’ll surely fall asleep if I don’t leave now. So I reluctantly open my eyes and wrap my fingers around the keys of the car before attempting to start the engine and… Nothing.
I rotate the key again and again and again, but it just doesn’t start. I curse as I try to put more force into it but the damn thing just doesn’t want to work. I strike the car with an angry fist, instantly regretting the action as my knuckles pules with a hot pain. I sigh and allow my head to flop back. My eyes linger on the rear view mirror, they go in and out of focus for a split second and as my vision becomes clearer, it takes me a moment to really process it, but standing behind a few cars behind me seems to be… A person?
I was the last one to leave the building and this is private property, so nobody else should be here. I continue intensely staring at the person as I attempt figure out who the hell it could be, and it’s then that the figure seems to clock its head and wave at me before then outright bursting out into a sprint out of view. My eyes widen, my mind not knowing what to think of the action. It’s when my heart starts pumping and my palms begin to get sweaty that I feel the need to get the hell out.
I jump out of the car and slam the door behind me. I do a quick three sixty spin, allowing my eyes to scan the area around me but nothing. I chuckle at my sleep deprived mind and shrug. Now being out of the car I see it fit to check the car’s engine. I pop upon the hood of the car with more effort than I thought I needed to (I really need to sleep) and my chest sinks. My yes falls upon… Nothing. No engine, no battery, no radiator, just absolutely nothing!
“Who the hell does this!?” I furiously shout aloud as I slam down the hood in anger. The combined feeling of rage and the split second feeling of fear results in my heart twisting in a strained pain. Standing a few meters away from my car is that same figure… Head still clocked to one side, they just stand there, staring… Now that they’re closer however, I can make out mostly every detail.
The figure is dressed in a slim fitted black suit with a dark crimson tie and black shining shoes. But what’s the strangest thing of all is the overly large bunny mask placed upon their head. The white fur almost shines under the lamps that stand scattered around the car park. However, paying closer attention, I realize the bunny has black spots sprinkled upon the bunny face, and as if trying to blatantly shout out, “It was me!” the person has a wrench clench in one hand, which is endlessly dripping some sort of liquid.
“You fucker! Where the hell is my engine!?” I shout at the weirdly dressed person. Which in hindsight, probably not the best thing to have done. The bunny man points to himself, and then slowly raises a hand, his index finger extended and pointed directly at me. And in one final quick and terrifying motion-
SLAM
The wrench embeds itself into the hood of the car that’s sat beside him. I start to slowly back away from my car and the figure, gradually picking up speed before turning around and bolting it down the car park. With every hard step that I take, my legs feel like they’re going to break, but I fight against the pain knowing that if I stop, it could be the end of me. A thought I really, really don’t want to have floating within my mind.
It feels like forever, but I finally make it to the entrance of the car park. But just ahead of me, before I’m even past the last few cars before the entrance, the bunny man casually walks out of what could only be the shadows and pure utter darkness of the night. It waves at me once again as it slowly approaches me, their wrench in hand gliding through the air, soon to be striking against my head or ringing out my teeth- No! I can’t think like that, I will escape, I have to escape.
I have to…
I turn around to head back in the opposite direction, my thought process being that I go through the other cars, using them as places to hide and eventually sneaking past the bunny and escaping. But as soon as I turn around, as soon as my eyes fall upon the same figure once again, my heart drops deeper into despair. And the realization hits me just as hard as the wrench as it caves upon my head from behind.
There’s a pulsing pain at the back of my head as I come to. I slowly raise my body and find myself sat on a chair, looks like they just left me sleeping on this metal table. I quickly realize that I’m not wearing my work clothes but instead a black suit with a red tie. Even my shoes have been changed. I jump out of the chair and search my surroundings; the space is not very wide by long in length.
“I’m on the back of truck.” I say aloud to myself. Aside from the chair and table, there’s a small TV, one of those old fashioned box one’s. It turns on.
For a moment there’s just static, but the screen eventually distorts and an image flashes on the screen – One of the bunny masked men. I slowly take a seat and watch the screen.
“What the hell is going on?” I ask the person. There’s no response… “Speak to me!”
The air is still, silent. It pisses me off.
BEEP
They move.
“I’m sure you have a lot of questions.” The voice is deep and metallic, a voice changer I conclude, but also quite formal, weirdly enough. I expected something more… Thuggish. They continue, “However, I’m afraid to inform you that I won’t be able to answer those questions, this is a recording after all.” He says crossing his legs and linking his fingers together as he rests them on his knee.
“You have a choice my friend. I’m sure you’ve already realized it, but we’ve change your clothes. And if you’re smart, you’ll realize it’s the same attire your attackers wore. The same one I’m wearing now.”
“What the hell…” Is all I manage to say?
“Under the table were our iconic bunny mask and a piece of paper with instructions.” He says. I push backwards, the chair scratching against the steel floor and bend down to pick up the furry and soft mask. I hold it in my arms, the red beady eyes peering into me. I place it on the table and a piece of paper floats to the ground. I pick that up too and before I’m able to read it, my captor continues to speak.
“Put on the mask and complete the task, or die.” His tone of voices is unchanged, just as formal and cold as before.
The last statement makes stammer, my heart sinking in my chest. “What?”
“It’s your choice.” And with that, the screen flashes white and then cuts to black as it powers down.
I look over to folded piece of paper placed next to the mask. I pick it up, open it and read.
“Kill your boss the next time you go into work and you live.
Failure to complete the task will result in your death.”
I just sit there… My shaking hands gripping the paper so hard it crunches into itself. The torturous silence all around me doesn’t seem to help and it doesn’t take long for all of this to get to me as I burst out of the seat, march over to the end of the table and pick up and throw the TV. It crashes onto the floor sending glass and parts everywhere.
My body trembles and I feel the anger build up within me, “Fuck!”
A tear goes trail down my cheek.
I hate the guy but to kill him? That’s too much. I-I… I can’t kill him or anyone else!
… But I don’t want to die either…
Some time passes. In that time I’ve searched all over and found that all my things have been taken so there’s no calling for help on my phone. I tried opening the truck door but of course that was locked too. But eventually there’s a loud clang and the door screeches open.
Daylight spills into the room and I squint as the rays attack my eyes. Two shadowy figures stand before me, who are hard to make out for a moment but my eyes quickly adjust to the light, and in turn they become clearer and take the image of two identical bunny masked people.
“Have you chosen yet dude?” One of them asks me. I stand there in silence, an action I quickly come to regret as the one who had spoken shrugs and the person next to him takes out a gun, clocks it and then points it directly at me.
“W-Wait!” I shout out desperately.
“Changed your mind then?” He asks in a mocking tone.
I grit my teeth and hold back my anger before responding, “… Yes.”
The gun is lowered. They hand me the gun, tell me good luck and throw me out of the truck before driving off. I find myself not too far from my apartment and in entering; I decide to spend the rest of the day in bed, trying to sleep, unsuccessfully of course.
Eventually night comes around. Too quickly in my opinion, but there isn’t much I can do about that. I get out of bed and enter my bathroom, looking over myself, the attire they had put on me still on as I was too tired to take it all off. I pick up the mask and slowly place it on my head. The image on the mirror of a bunny man staring back at me sends chills… It’s time.
Driving to work, I usually feel pretty shitty, which is to be expected. Office jobs are not fun. But I’ve never felt this bad, know that I’m going to do… This is the worst.
I pull up as close to the company building as I can and in leaving my car, I run up to it as quickly as I can, in an attempt to avoid people. My boss usually comes in pretty late, staying only for a few hours to check up on things and crap on everyone’s parade, so now it’s just a matter of waiting. And that’s what I do, I find a bush just outside the building automatic doors and I sit and hide.
Time seems to stretch on. The occasional car passing by, or barking of the guard dogs not too far off, all put me on edge even more. I find myself closing my eyes gripping the gun as I try to keep myself calm. But as if the universe does not want me to settle, the automatic doors slide open. I look up to see the slender figure walk past the bush that I’m hiding in All I could see was his grey suit slightly glowing in the dark. I hoped the smug look that’s always present on his face, even now, would make this easier. I sigh in despair as I stand up feeling hopeless and slowly approach his back.
He senses my presence and turns around. The shock and confusion on his face makes me recall the events of yesterday. I wonder if the two that attacked me also had to make a choice… My thoughts are cut short however as my boss sees the gun and makes his own choice to run.
“I’m sorry…” I say even though he can’t hear me. And with sadden eyes that he’ll never see, I raise the gun and pull the trigger.
BANG!v

Stay happy.Keep smiling.Stay positive.
These instructions… These hypnotizing statements are what you need to remember if you want to survive. Ever since that night they’re phrases I chant to myself over and over and over again. They’re all I have to fight back, to stay safe and in control. Acting as some sort spell to protect me from… Well, let me not get ahead of myself.
I’ll start from the beginning…
The house door slams shut behind me as I amble my way through the main corridor of the house and tread up the stairs. The hard wooden floor boards creak with every heavy step I take, their high pitch creaking only seems to contribute to my already dismal mood. I respond with a series of swears and slurs which lazily fall out of my mouth, sounding more like muffled mumbling than audible words.
“Language!” I hear my Father bellow at me. The fact he even managed to hear me from the damn living area baffles me. But I’m too tired, too pissed off to continue thinking or even caring about it. Still, wanting to avoid being shouted at again, as I know I will be – I groggy respond with a bitter, “Sorry.”
There’s no response but I can see his stupid smug face right now grinning at his supposed authority. I hate him. I hate this house and most of all, I hate that damn School. Before I can make it onto the second floor I’m called out.
“Get back down here, John.” My Mother commands in a calm yet authoritative tone. I grit my teeth and force myself back down the stairs and into the kitchen.
“Hi Mom…” I say diverting my eyes away from her gaze.
“How was School?” She doesn’t even stop to face me but instead continues preparing tonight’s dinner.
“It was… Okay.” I attempt to keep my answers short and get out of this situation as soon as possible before-
“So why did I receive a call from School saying that you got into a fight?”
Too late. “It’s complicated, Mom.”
“Yes, it does seem like that. I thought Kenneth was your best friend? Yu don’t go around beating up best friend’s John!”
“Oh give it a rest!”
“Don’t you dare talk back to me” She responds slamming the wooden spoon in her hand against the kitchen counter.
“What the hell is going on in there!?” Dad shouts from the other room.
“I’m not doing this, not today.” And with that I rush up the stairs, the shouting of both of my parents fall back behind me.
Entering my room I throw my bag onto the floor and kick off my trainers. Now finally comfortable I sit at my desk and flip open my sketch book.
Everything in this world is crap. And it’s not like I want it to be… But it just is. It’s like everything is out to make things as hard for you as possible. Exams, teachers, parents and even friends. Those you thought you could trust the most just lag behind and stab you in the back.
My hand frantically moves across the once pale sheet of paper now tainted with the lead of my pencil. With aggression and force I scribble and scratch at its surface, using the pencil and the innocents of the paper as a means expressing all my frustration.
With every stroke, with every curse and flashing thought of those that wronged me, I generate image after image, sketch after sketch, all the while doing so, a large grin rests on face, the demonic thoughts pleasing me more and more.
Maybe I’m enjoying it too much though as I feel the sweat sliding down the surface of my face and neck, generated from the movement, While the surface of my hand around the pen too feeling moist, the grip nearly nonexistent. I drop the pen as a wave of exhaustion overcomes me. I start to feel… Lightheaded but with a quick shake of my head and a few eye rubs, I eventually relax.
All of a sudden I look down at the sheet of paper, my eyes falling upon my drawings and my eyes widen in shock. I feel my skin crawl and a gasp escape me. Mangled bodies, distort expressions of horror and the most gruesome, cruel depictions of those that I know lay displayed on my table.
“I-I… I didn’t draw this” I announce to nobody in particular. Why is my mind struggling to comprehend how this has even occurred? I put my head into my hands and try to settle my rapid breathing.
“It’s been a long day… I just need to-” I stop speaking. I didn’t realize it before as I was sketching away, the sounds of the pencil scratching against the paper was quite loud now that I think about it, but now that everything is silent.
Well, everything should be silent. I notice the sound of… frantic breathing, much like my own, has continued. Even though I’ve settled down, even with my breath now held it just goes on. And as though sensing that I feel something is amiss the sound too ceases… Every fiber of my body begins to crawl and shiver slightly, and though I do not want it, my mind begins to think.
What was that? Where is it coming from? Should I turn around? I shouldn’t, should I? What was that??
“Oh …” I silently cry out to myself as I feel my curiosity getting the better of me. Giving in, my body begins to rotate at a painfully slow pace. Even my head jitters as it reluctantly attempts to face the wide open space behind me. My chest tightens as my eyes draw closer the area in which the sound, that breathing, came from. The corner of my desk disappears from my view, my room door quickly passes my vision and before I know it my eyes are resting open a view that’s all too similar.
My bed sits untouched and as messy as ever, my wardrobe standing beside it in the corner of the room and my of course nothing else but air. I look around confused, but I quickly come to feel some relief. I burst into laughter at the mind games I must have played on myself all this time.
“Ha… Ha… Ha…”
The croaky broken laughter rings in my right ear.
My heart stops. I freeze.
Within that instance my expression drops from one of joy to a shaky look of terror.
“Why…. So… Scared… John?”
I jump out of my seat and fall to the ground. Towering over me is a shadowy figure of a person, blurred and unfocused, its body spazzes and shifts, as if every inch of its being is battling to go one way or the other, acting indecisively. The only other feature I can make out, and a very evident one at that, is the pulsing white discs that are its eyes. No pupils, just wide pure white eyes. I rapidly crawl backwards until my back presses hard against the wall of my room.
“Wh-What the hell…?” I mumble under my breath.
“H… He… Hell… Hell…” It mimics as it claws at the air in my direction. The constant twitch of its head and its inky black claws all make up the image of pure terror. My eyes quickly dart towards my room’s closed door and then back to the creature. I don’t know what it wants, but I’m sure as hell not sticking around to find out.
Inhaling and then exhaling I ready myself. Slowly rising up, my back still pressing hard against the wall of my room, I get myself onto my legs. Knees bent and legs trembling. I take one final breath… Then I’m off. Using the wall to propel me, I burst of into a sprint, my goal: The bedroom door.
But before I even make it halfway across the room, my eyes pick up a shift in movement from the corner of my vision and before I know it, the creature is crawling after me on all fours at such an abnormal speed, the shock makes me trip up. The creature quickly registers my mistake and acts on the opening by pouncing on me. The both of us come crashing into the ground.
It digs its large sharp claws into me and the pain courses through my arms. Its head shakes violently and I notice a series of white dot appearing on the abyss that is its face. The white specs form into jagged lines which grow and grow until eventually what seems to be a mouth, is formed.
Its jaw now wide open, an open space of white – the creature screeches in my face. The white discs of its eyes slowly beginning to expand and seemingly consume all of my vision, and the world around me starts to glow torturously bright. I feel my throat burn as I let out an inaudible scream.
It’s not long before everything goes white.
Moments later, my vision blurry, starts to go into focus. The white environment takes shape and warps into a familiar scene. I find myself in my classroom, my best friend below me and my fists, clenched and bloody. At first I feel fear and confusion but then I hear the creature speak.
It tells me to do it; it tells me its okay to feel this way, to give in. I can’t seem to fight the urge, the temptation. I feel anger raging within me and I proceed to bring down my fists upon his face again and again whilst shouting a slur of swears and curses. The sudden sound of manic laughing throws me out of my fit of rage.
“No! No stop, continue!” The creature shouts at me angrily.
“What… What?” I look down at the mess around me, of what used to be my friend.
“No!” I cry out as I jump away from the corpse which simultaneously disappears with the classroom too.
“I need more… More!” It hisses. I look at the creature in terror. It’s… Feeding off me… Off of my anger?
I try to make sense of this crazy, paranormal mess but the creature gives me no time to rest. It appears besides me and continues whispering in my ear and once against the temptation, the anger rises and the more I try to fight back, the stronger it gets. But fight is what I do.
With every negative thought that comes to mind, I conjure a positive thought and count it. The creature gets angrier and I get even more frightened, but I have to stay strong… Suddenly I feel a surge of force hit me and I’m sent flying across this open space. The impact seems to knock me back into reality and when I come to, I find myself in my living room. I’m drenched in sweat, breathing heavily and Blood all over myself. I hear soft sobbing coming from besides me and I look up…
“Mom?” I slowly pick myself up and walk towards her, but she backs away. “Mum what’s-”
“Why John? Why!?” She shouts at me running past me and collapsing to the ground. I slowly turn around and look to the ground.
Lay below me is a body. My Dad’s body.
It didn’t take me long to realize what I’d done. I fall to my knees, my mind spinning in a daze of confusion and disbelief.
“What the hell…” Is all I can say?
“Hell… Hell… Hell!” The word echoes in my ear, followed by a horrific cackle. My head slowly turns to the corner of the room and I see the creature, crouched and smiling with its white, gaping mouth.
“It did this… Not me. It did.” Is all I can tell myself? Tears start to flow from my eyes and I can feel the creatures stare all over me. I can tell it’s not enough and that it wants more… I look over to Mom. She’s lying next to him, just crying. I have to think of her…
I face the creature in the face and I force my mouth to stretch into a smile.
“Everything is okay. Stay happy. Keep smiling. Stay positive.”

Don’t swear.
Think of your happy place.
Stay positive.
These instructions… These hypnotizing statements are what you need to remember if you want to survive. Ever since that night they’re phrases I chant to myself over and over and over again. They’re all I have to fight back, to stay safe and in control. Acting as some sort spell to protect me from… Well, let me not get ahead of myself.
I’ll start from the beginning…
The house door slams shut behind me as I amble my way through the main corridor of the house and tread up the stairs. The hard wooden floor boards creak with every heavy step I take, their high pitch creaking only seems to contribute to my already dismal mood. I respond with a series of swears and slurs which lazily fall out of my mouth, sounding more like muffled mumbling than audible words.
“Language!” I hear my Father bellow at me. The fact he even managed to hear me from the damn living area baffles me. But I’m too tired, too pissed off to continue thinking or even caring about it. Still, wanting to avoid being shouted at again, as I know I will be – I groggily respond with a bitter, “Sorry.”
There’s no response but I can see his stupid smug face right now grinning at his supposed authority. I hate him. I hate this house and most of all, I hate that damn School. Before I can make it onto the second floor I’m called out.
“Get back down here, John.” My Mother commands in a calm yet authoritative tone. I grit my teeth and force myself back down the stairs and into the kitchen.
“Hi Mom…” I say diverting my eyes away from her gaze.
“How was School?” She doesn’t even stop to face me but instead continues preparing tonight’s dinner.
“It was… Okay.” I attempt to keep my answers short and get out of this situation as soon as possible before-
“So why did I receive a call from School saying that you got into a fight?”
It’s too late. “It’s complicated, Mom.”
“Yes, it does seem like that. I thought Kenneth was your best friend? You don’t go around beating up best friend’s John!”
“Oh give it a rest!”
“Don’t you dare talk back to me” She responds slamming the wooden spoon in her hand against the kitchen counter.
“What the hell is going on in there!?” Dad shouts from the other room.
“I’m not doing this, not today.” And with that I rush up the stairs, the shouting of both of my parents fall back behind me.
Entering my room I throw my bag onto the floor and kick off my trainers. Now finally comfortable I sit at my desk and flip open my sketch book.
Everything in this world is shit. And it’s not like I want it to be… But it just is. It’s like everything is out to make things as hard for you as possible. Exams, teachers, parents and even friends. Those you thought you could trust the most just lag behind and stab you in the back. My hand frantically moves across the once pale sheet of paper now tainted with the lead of my pencil. With aggression and force I scribble and scratch at its surface, using the pencil and the innocents of the paper as a means expressing all my frustration.
With every stroke, with every curse and flashing thought of those that wronged me, I generate image after image, sketch after sketch, all the while doing so, a large grin rests on face, the demonic thoughts pleasing me more and more. Maybe I’m enjoying it too much though as I feel sweats sliding down the surface of my face and neck, generated from all the movement. The surface of my hand around the pen too feeling moist, the grip nearly nonexistent. I drop the pen as a wave of exhaustion overcomes me. I start to feel… Lightheaded but with a quick shake of my head and a few eye rubs, I eventually relax.
When I look down at the sheet of paper, my eyes falling upon my drawings. My eyes widen in shock. I feel my skin crawl and a gasp escape me. Mangled bodies, distort expressions of horror and the most gruesome, cruel depictions of those that I know lay displayed on my table.
“I-I… I didn’t draw this” I announce to nobody in particular. My mind struggling to comprehend how this has even occurred. I put my head into my hands and try to settle my rapid breathing.
“It’s been a long day… I just need to-” I stop speaking. I didn’t realize it before as I was sketching away, the sounds of the pencil scratching against the paper was quite loud now that I think about it, but now that everything is silent. Well, everything should be silent. I notice the sound of… frantic breathing, much like my own, has continued. Even though I’ve settled down, even with my breath now held it just goes on. And as though sensing that I feel something is amiss the sound too ceases… Every fiber of my body begins to crawl and shiver slightly, and though I do not want it, my mind begins to think.
What was that? Where is it coming from? Behind me? Should I turn around? I shouldn’t, should I? What was that??
“Oh fuck…” I silently cry out to myself as I feel my curiosity getting the better of me. Giving in, my body begins to rotate at a painfully slow pace. Even my head jitters as it reluctantly attempts to face the wide open space behind me. My chest tightens as my eyes draw closer the area in which the sound, that breathing, came from. The corner of my desk disappears from my view, my room door quickly passes my vision and before I know it my eyes are resting open a view that’s all too similar.
My bed sits untouched and as messy as ever, my wardrobe standing beside it in the corner of the room and my of course nothing else but air. I look around confused, but I quickly come to feel some relief. I burst into laughter at the mind games I must have played on myself all this time.
“Ha… Ha… Ha…”
The croaky broken laughter rings in my right ear.
My heart stops. I freeze.
Within that instance my expression drops from one of joy to a shaky look of terror.
“Why…. So… Scared… John?”
I jump out of my seat and fall to the ground. Towering over me is a shadowy figure of a person, blurred and unfocused, its body spazzes and shifts, as if every inch of its being is battling to go one way or the other, acting indecisively. The only other feature I can make out, and a very evident one at that, is the pulsing white discs that are its eyes. No pupils, just wide pure white eyes. I rapidly crawl backwards until my back presses hard against the wall of my room.
“Wh-What the hell…?” I mumble under my breath.
“H… He… Hell… Hell…” It mimics as it claws at the air in my direction. The constant twitch of its head and the inky black claws all make up the image of pure terror. My eyes quickly dart towards my room’s closed door and then back to the creature. I don’t know what it wants, but I’m sure as hell not sticking around to find out. Inhaling and then exhaling I ready myself. Slowly rising up, my back still pressing hard against the wall of my room, I get myself onto my legs. Knees bent and legs trembling. I take one final breath… Then I’m off. Using the wall to propel me, I burst of into a sprint, my goal: The bedroom door.
But before I even make it halfway across the room, my eyes pick up a shift in movement from the corner of my vision and before I know it, the creature is crawling after me on all fours at such an abnormal speed, the shock makes me trip up. The creature quickly registers my mistake and acts on the opening by pouncing on me. The both of us come crashing into the ground. It digs its large sharp claws into me and the pain courses through my arms. Its head shakes violently and I notice a series of white dot appearing on the abyss that is its face. The white specs form into jagged lines which grow and grow until eventually what seems to be a mouth, is formed. Its jaw now wide open, an open space of white – the creature screeches in my face. The white discs of its eyes slowly beginning to expand and seemingly consume all of my vision, and the world around me starts to glow torturously bright. I feel my throat burn as I let out an inaudible scream.
It’s not long before everything goes white.
Moments later, my vision blurry, starts to go into focus. The white environment takes shape and warps into a familiar scene. I find myself in my classroom, my best friend below me and my fists, clenched and bloody. At first I feel fear and confusion but then I hear the creature speak. It tells me to do it; something tells me its okay to feel this way, to give in. I can’t seem to fight the urge, the temptation. I feel anger raging within me and I proceed to bring down my fists upon his face again and again whilst shouting a slur of swears and curses. The sudden sound of manic laughing throws me out of my fit of rage.
“No! No stop, continue!” The creature shouts at me angrily.
“What… What?” I look down at the mess around me, of what used to be my friend. Of what I did?
“No!” I cry out as I jump away from the corpse which simultaneously disappears with the classroom too.
“I need more… More!” It hisses. I look at the creature in terror. It’s… Feeding off me… Off anger?
I try to make sense of this crazy, paranormal mess but the creature gives me no time to rest. It appears besides me and continues whispering in my ear and once against the temptation, the anger rises and the more I try to fight back, the stronger it gets. But fight is what I do.
With every negative thought that comes to mind, I conjure a positive thought and count it. The creature gets angrier and I get even more frightened, but I have to stay strong… Suddenly I feel a surge of force hit me and I’m sent flying across this open space. The impact seems to knock me back into reality and when I come to, I find myself in my living room. I’m drenched in sweat, breathing heavily and… I hear soft sobbing coming from besides me and I look up…
“Mom?” I slowly pick myself up and walk towards her, but she backs away. “Mom what’s-”
“John what have you done?” She shouts at me running past me and collapsing to the ground. I slowly turn around and look to the ground.
Lying below me is a body. It’s my Dad’s body.
It doesn’t take me long to realize what I’d done. I fall to my knees, my mind spinning in a daze of confusion and disbelief.
“What the hell…” Is all I can say?
“Hell… Hell… Hell!” The word echoes in my ear, followed by a horrific cackle. My head slowly turns to the corner of the room and I see the creature, crouched and smiling with its white, gaping mouth.
“It did this… Not me. It did.” Is all I can tell myself? Tears start to flow from my eyes and I can feel the creatures stare all over me. I can tell it’s not enough and that it wants more… I look over to Mom. She’s lying next to him, just crying. I have to think of her…I also have to feed the creature……..