Tag: shortstory

The Unwanted Battle

This story was written as a prompt for my university writing class. There was a common theme of all of the stories and what feedback we received: no names, no senses, and every one dies. So, I decided to write a short story that was kind of a play on our class. It was funny for me while writing it and became an inside joke with some of my other classmates. I hope you all enjoy a story created in light mockery of my writing class. Enjoy and let me know in the comments what you think!

– Turan

Hunching over on my hands and knees, I clench my stomach with a sharp hiss. Several blurry blotches of blood sprinkle the gravel below my face. It’s hard to focus with the stinging pangs from where the knife connected. Shakily, I pull my hand away to look through my tear-swollen eyes. Drenched fingers glinting red is enough to tell me it’s terrible. How did it come to this? 

Lifting my head weakly, I look at the man responsible with pleading eyes. I don’t want to fight him; I never wanted to fight in the first place. Had I known a week ago that this was our fate when I first met him, I would have let him die instead. 

I was walking home from my night shift when sickening thuds of flesh against flesh echoed against the tall apartment buildings. Peeking from around the corner, I spotted the man on the ground, his assailant pulling at his shirt collar and repeatedly pounding his fist into him—every fiber of my being tingled with a warning that I should stay far from the danger. I didn’t listen. 

At the time, all I could think about was saving an innocent life. Without thought, I reacted. Releasing the dark tendrils of power stirring within, I focused the surprise bolt right at the attacker’s chest. It was a clean hit. The body jerked violently, falling back to the ground.

I dashed to the man on the ground, his face bruised and bloodied. It took little effort to grab his arm and drag him away. I pulled him to his feet, lent him my shoulder, and rushed him back to my place. I didn’t stop, didn’t look back. For the first time in my life, I killed someone. No, not just someone. I killed my kind. However, I didn’t know then. 

When I got the man home, I cared for him. Cleaned his wounds, patched him up, and then left him resting on the couch. He wasn’t coherent enough to know where he was. It must have been from the several blows to the head. I sat in the chair across from him, nervously watching until he fell into a deep sleep. 

I stood up and began to pace. How stupid was I? Using my power after hiding it for so long and bringing a stranger to my shitty apartment. What if someone saw it? Never mind that. What will happen when they find the body? Would it be traced back to me? It wasn’t uncommon for our kind to attack and kill for fun. It was said to be in our very nature. Though, I wouldn’t know since I was abandoned at an orphanage and left to fend for myself. I only learned the truth when I turned 18 and accidentally released a bolt at my only friend, Cass. It was a small wound, but the damage was irreversible. 

Shortly after, magical enforcers stormed the orphanage dedicated to removing all dark magic from the world. I escaped through the compassion of the orphanage mother, who showed me a hidden tunnel. She was known for protecting many creatures and helping them to survive. I found out years later that she was dragged out into the streets and slaughtered publicly as a warning. 

I did well to hide my power, only using it when necessary. Stopping in my kitchen to look back at the man on my couch, I chewed my fingernails. It would all be ok, right? I thought it was honestly going to be. Instead, I’m faced with the truth. No matter how kind I was to him, feeding him and helping him get back on his feet, I thought I could trust him enough to tell the truth. 

Crunching steps bring me back to the present. I blink a few times to clear my vision. Get up, Fight! But I can’t. I drop my head hopelessly instead and close my eyes.

“Get up, Filth.“

I stay unmoving.

“GET UP!” A swift kick knocks the wind out of me in a wail, “Fight me!”

I crumple to the ground, shaking. There’s nothing left of my sad, pathetic life. Hiding, living in constant fear, never feeling safe; it was all a waste.

“What’s the point? Just do it already.”

I stare at his boots, empty, waiting for sweet solace to come. A metal click of a gun cocking prepares me, but nothing follows. Suddenly, I lurch off the ground and am inches from his face. His fists are full of my shirt and the gun presses against my cheek. 

“Why?” He shakes me with each word, furious and unsure of how to release his rage. “Why are you making this so difficult? Why can’t you fight me and give me a reason to hate you? You’re supposed to be evil! How are you like this?”

His eyes grow desperate while his questions are left unanswered. I feel his pain, and yet all I can do is smile. Not with mockery or malice. I reach my hand out and lightly brush his cheek. 

“You don’t think I’m evil.”

I understand his struggle, the fluctuation of his moral compass questioning what is right and just. His eyes flick across my face, bouncing from one eye to another as if the answers would appear from its depths like a fortune-telling toy ball. Removing my hand from his face, I tenderly hold his fist. 

“You have two choices: Complete your duty, return to your organization and be praised for killing two demons. Or stay with me.”

His eyes widen, blinking at the thought. Is this a possibility? I’m not even sure of what I was saying. It’s crazy, unbelievable! However, it is possible. 

“I wasn’t living my life before I met you. I spent all my time confused and alone. We could learn from each other; teach each other. So please, stay.”

I hold my breath for a while, and just when my lungs scream for release, he says yes.

A Farmers Business

This short story was written during my writing class at University. It was inspired by a postcard and was supposed to be about 500 words. I didn’t edit it much since my class because it was a good landmark for my skill at the beginning. I was pretty proud of it for being my first story to be criticized. I hope you enjoy it just as much as my classmates did.
-Turan

A familiar red pickup truck bounced up the rocky driveway while Doug struck the match. The fizzling flash of light settled into a steady flame before he lit the tobacco pressed loosely in the pipe. 

The truck door flew open, and a tall, lanky farm boy hopped out, adjusting his hat and belt before grabbing a case of beers out of the back. Doug watched unfazed, pulling deep on the pipe. Chimney puffs rose while he began to rock his wooden chair.

“Tough weather, eh?”

“Mmmhmm.” 

His gritty voice hummed low to high casually, followed by silence. The farm boy slandered up to the porch step, pausing at the railing to lean against it. 

“Been inta town lately?”

Doug scratched his grizzled face with the mouthpiece of his pipe. This young buck commonly came over to cluck like a hen about the town gossip. At least he brought decent beer. 

“Not as of late.”

The farm boy broke a beer from the plastic with a chuckle and tossed it lightly. Doug rocked forward in time to catch the perfect throw. 

“Did ya hear ’bout the farm a few clicks down? Few girls runnin’ a horse ranch. Tucker saw ’em pickin’ up a few bales at Ken’s.”

With one hand, Doug cracked his beer open and took a swig. The flavor of bitter-cold beer and tobacco swirled in his mouth a moment before he swallowed hard. The eager buck continued.

“They’ve been goin’ ’round town of’en together too. They seem awfully close for bein’ friends.”

Doug shot a stern side glance at the kid, puffing hard on his pipe. The buck was unaware, cracking a beer to wet his tongue. Smacking his lips, he looked towards the cows grazing in the field. 

“From what Tucker’s sayin’, they might be one of those people. Ya know? There’s been talk that people in town are weary of ’em. Sid’s thinkin’ bout denyin’ ’em service, too.”

With a halt, Doug hardened. “Seems a bit stupid to turn good money away at the door.”

The farm boy dropped his jaw, face white as a ghost. “Arencha worried? ‘Bout ’em bein’… Ya know, Freaks-“

A crashing thud broke through his words before he could finish. Standing tall with fury in his eyes, Doug growled. 

“Leave ’em be, Todd. Those girls ain’t nothing to be spooked of. Bringin’ cash flow to a dead town will do us folks some good. Mind your manners if ya know what’s good for ya. Farm hands like you might finally be able to get some decen’ work.”

Without delay, Doug stormed into his house and slammed the door. Tossing his beer and pipe on the counter carelessly, he paced the room. A truck engine rumbled through the walls, slowly revving off in the distance.

Stopping in the middle of the room, Doug placed his hands on his hips. Time felt eternal as pained eyes held the picture of him and his daughter in the pasture on the wall.

The “Would’ve Been” Fall Guy

A writing prompt from Reddit: After hardship, they find the truth about what happened -and it’s much more positive than they’d imagine.

Joffrey stood angrily in the opened doorway. Words laced with venom, he growled while his hands shook with rage.

“You…”

Out of all the people he didn’t ever want to see again, there they stood in front of him. On his doorsteps, no less.

Amelia gave a weak smile. She knew just how much he resented her.

“Joffrey, don’t slam the door. Please.”

“You have 10 seconds before I do.”

“I figured you would say that,” Reaching into her satchel bag, Amelia pulled out a manilla folder. “I have something that belongs to you.”

“I don’t want it.”

He began to close the door when Amelia reached forward.

“Wait, please give me a moment of your time! I will explain everything. After that, you can choose to despise me if you want.”

Joffrey’s glare was lethal, but he hesitated. Looking at Amelia’s soft, pained eyes, he had a change of heart. Opening the door wide, he turned to walk into the living room. Amelia sighed with heavy relief, following him in quickly. Leaning over to remove her shoes, he barked at her.

“Keep them on. You’re not staying long.”

Amelia paused, looking up at him for a moment. The pained look in her eyes returned full force as she turned towards the couches. Joffrey had no remorse in his anger toward her. After what she did to him, there was no way he could ever forgive her.

Two years ago he worked in the same company as her. Joffrey had poured his life into his work, and was fired just before his big break. Amelia was his right hand in the project and took his place. The project took off and became a multimillion-marketed product.

To make things worse, she took 100% credit for the work, then patented it before the company could get its greedy hands into the pot. It was unspeakable to swipe it all out from beneath everybody and take all the fortune for herself.

Joffrey sat and watched the war over his creation on the news for two years. It was a scandal that everyone talked about relentlessly. They never mentioned his name during the entire legal battle or when they finally settled it. Amelia got to keep all the rights. Why now did she come to see him after the dust settled? For what? To boast about her thievery? With a sharp tsk, he ground his teeth. He just wanted this over with.

“Make this quick, Amelia.”

Sitting down quietly, Amelia stared at the coffee table vacantly.

“Believe what you want, Joffrey. I never wanted any of this.”

Opening the file, she placed several pieces of documents down before her. Without any further words, she grabbed a pen, clicked it, and held it out in front of her towards Joffrey.

“What’s all this?”

“The rights to the project.”

Her words caught Joffrey off guard. Was she just giving it to him?

“This must be some kind of joke.”

“I’ve never been more serious about anything.”

They paused in their stand-off, neither of them moving. Finally, Joffrey took a few steps toward the coffee table. There it was, the actual paperwork to transfer him full ownership. Sitting softly on the couch, he scrunched his face.

“What’s the meaning of all this?”

Amelia placed the pen down on the table before folding her hands on her lap. She sat back and took a deep breath in.

“I never wanted this. I did it because I wanted to save you.”

Joffrey scoffed in disbelief, but before he could retort, Amelia continued.

“They were going to use you, Joffrey. You were their fall guy. The company was about to collapse, and the only way they could save face was to use you as the scapegoat.

“Years ago, I overheard them talking about it. They made some bad investments and decided to say it was for your project. Although, they weren’t expecting it to work out. Once they heard about the successes you had, they got greedy.

“I knew this was happening. So instead of saying anything, I involved my lawyers in secret. We devised a plan to save your reputation from downfall and kept the project for ourselves. The only way we could do that was to get you fired so that they removed your name. Once I took over the project, they nearly destroyed it. I only released a small portion and kept the rest hidden.

“Although, you were brilliant. All the work you put into it was superb, and now that you will have full entitlement to it, you can continue your work unhindered. Along with it, you will have your company and team. I did this all for you.”

Joffrey sat with his jaw open. Looking down at the paperwork, he realized she wasn’t bluffing. On top of that, he was inheriting all the wealth that came along with the company.

“What about you?”

Amelia smiled softly, shaking her head. “This project was never mine. In my hands, it would collapse. You were always the mastermind behind it all. I was just the assistant.”

With that, Amelia stood up and walked towards the door. Joffrey sat dumbfoundedly, watching her head to the door and open it. It was then that he finally noticed. Her clothes looked old, torn, and dirty. Her hair was dark and greasy, like she hadn’t showered in days. Even her shoes were falling apart. He called out to her, standing as he did.

“Amelia…”

She paused, turning to face him with a curious look. It finally sank into Joffrey what was off about her. Her face was sunken in, and her hands were small and bone. She looked malnourished. Had she done everything she could to avoid spending the money she made from his project?

“When was the last time you ate?”

With wide eyes, she scanned the floor to look for an answer. “Oh… well, Uh… I just ate before…”

Joffrey held up his hands to ward off her excuse. He offered a soft smile and a hand towards the kitchen. “Would you mind staying for dinner? The paperwork can wait a while longer.”

Smiling at each other, Amelia closed the door.

Return of the Turnip

Hello, Ragarootlings!

I was at university last year, and I’ve returned! It was a grueling year; lots happened, and I was unable to keep up with was at university for the past year editing and writing. But now, with the summer, I’ve been working hard, creating new ideas and changing old ones. I took a writing class, and it was incredible. I learned much about my writing and got amazing feedback from my peers and teacher. Looking at my writing now, I realize I have grown a lot and decided this can’t do!

I’m unsure when I can return to regular biweekly postings, but I have a new goal. With feedback from my classes and comments on WordPress, I’m rewriting my ongoing stories. I’ll be releasing them as new, and one of the biggest changes I’ve stuck to is not limiting my word count. I initially aimed for 1500-2000 words per chapter, but I was cutting corners in my story to meet these goals. This sacrificed a lot of details and left out a lot of opportunities.

I don’t want to do that anymore! I will still do specific writing challenges to improve my writing and encourage me to create a fantastic story for everyone to read. Like the “Don’t say the word” challenge or doing word prompts. These won’t be perfect, and I do my best to self-edit because these stories aren’t for profit. These are my creative outlet and my passion for writing.

Another thing I’m working on is a way to create a community of people who also want to read stories and improve their own writing. In my writing class, I had an amazing time reading my peer’s work and giving feedback on their writing. Seeing my mistakes while editing other people’s works was incredible, and I learned a lot from it. So if anyone is looking for feedback or useful criticism to help improve your stories, please get in touch with me!

I’m not a professional by any means, and I’m not asking for payments. This is just purely to offer opinions and give examples that could be beneficial. I won’t be editing every page of your books, or every chapter. If there are reoccurring issues, there isn’t a point to continue to every page and keep pointing it out. I also won’t help edit for publication purposes. This is just for peer support and to get valid input, which is something I always wished for when posting my stories. You can get more details when you reach out to me.

Thank you, everyone for the support and patience throughout this journey of mine. I appreciate those who have read my works and continue into the future. I can only hope one day that I can publish something officially and make my Turnip Patch a real dream come true!

Look out for the new release chapters of Whispering Death!

Turan Turnip

Unmasking True Hate.

That’s it. I can’t stop it this time. I growled as the pain took over my body. The rage fogged my head, shooting my soul out into a ghost-like figure. The string of my existence tethered to the monster that now shredded off layers of clothes and flesh, exposing only tethered skin and bone. The anger seethed over my entire being and gnarly teeth protruded from my mouth. 

There was nothing I could do to stop it. I opened my mouth in silent horror as I watched the monster I become. I toss the kitchen table aside as if it was a feather, breaking me free from the trapped corner in between my family. I tried to yell a warning I watched the beast leap from the seat, jaw snapping open to unhinged it in a demented way. 

Stop, I screamed. The sound was unheard in the vacuum-sealed void that suffocated me.

Even the screams of terror from my family were voiceless. I watched my beast-like form claw at them, my nails cracked from the base to the tip of its elongated bone growth. I was hideous. 

At first, it attacked my grandma, the one who spurred me with her snake-like venom. I was unarmed, unaware that the teeth sunk deep into my skin. The cold-like poison bubbled in my veins and burned the blood away like evaporated water. 

Once the pain set in, I tried to hide it; tried to harness the pain to strengthen me for next time. I wanted to build thicker skin, to create a shield that would stop the lashes from boring deeply into my core. 

However, that wasn’t what unleashed my horrendous creature within. When the snake turned its head to my sister, I couldn’t control it any longer. 

My father pounded his chest like the gorilla he was, proud and unaware of the battle that took place. My swan-like mother froze with practiced grace, aware of the venom’s strike. One she had felt her whole life. My younger brother and sister, who did not know the scars of war as we did, were frozen like a baby doe caught in the headlights of a car. I did not worry for them because they were still young and had a chance to escape. They had avoided the horrors because of my mother’s grace. Although their elder sisters were unable to seek the same refuge, there was no hope to find peace. 

The moment the fangs threatened my sister, the one I shielded for years against the snake’s venom, I knew there was no stopping myself. I could only watch while I tore her apart, limb from limb. The blood and carnage that would change me forever. I could no longer contain the rage, the pain, the suffering. 

I could not stand in the toxicity for one more minute longer. Whatever animal I was before was long gone. The beauty and freedom I beheld were lost in a dark past. There was no humanity, nor was there comprehension. Only hate. 

When the beast finally calmed, allowing my spirit back into its place, I felt regret strike at my heart. 

The snake was clever and fast. It had shed its skin, leaving a fake mold in its place. I was a fool to play into their ploy once more. The shame of my uncontrolled temper from years of anguish was turned against me; my family shunned me away. “How could you think of striking your grandma like that!” 

Was it not only moments ago that she lunged at me first? Was it not her that turned to my sister when she was not satiated? There I am stuck in the perpetual wheel to allow this nightmare to replay over and over again, with no resolve. A groundhog effect to keep me in this revolving hell. 

I stormed away from my shame, growing back my fragile skin and clothes. Again to my naked turtle state where I had to rebuild my shell once more. One day, I promised myself, I won’t break.

Drowning without Water

An original idea crafted into a short story. Nothing super crazy, just trying to express feeling and emotion through my words.

-Turan

The air hurts to breathe in. I struggle to focus on anything around me while walking home from work. My boss yelled at me again; saying something on the lines of “having a terrible work ethic.” Unbelievable. 

I have been slaving away each day, picking up his and everyone else’s slack. Each grueling day, I come in early and leave late, all so that I can get a little bit of extra cash. For what? To be suspended for a week with no pay? What did I even do wrong? I have done everything in my power to make sure numbers match with inventory, the cash drops are accurate, and everything is signed on the dotting lines. 

I even chase after others who haven’t filled out the correct forms, even though it’s not my job! I bend backward for this company! I just wanted a little recognization for the hard work I do. Maybe even a small raise or bonus. 

It doesn’t matter anymore. I can’t change the outcome. I try to keep myself from crying on my way to the apartment building complex. It’s old, run-down, and barely holding itself together with plaster patchwork. I make my way up the mildewy stairs, covering my mouth to pass the same mold-covered wall. 

I keep to myself, making my way down the hall, spotting my neighbor’s flat door wide open; it was ransacked again. Who knows when the next time will be mine?

 I sigh and begin to unlock the several keyed deadbolts, the sounds of chains clattering and metal grinding as I open the door. I even give it a hefty shove to close it snugly before shutting the locks tightly behind me. For what little protection it offers me, I feel just a little safer.

Dragging my feet behind me, I strip off my shoes, coat, and uniform. I grab my blanket off my couch and bundle myself up tightly and plunk down on the cushions to stare at the water-stained walls. The room is dark and smells. The neighbor must be smoking drugs again. The holes from the pipes always seeped through no matter how much I stuff it full of cloth. 

My lungs hurt, not from the smoke or the mildew. I can’t breathe. Sitting up I walk to my counter full of pink papers and red stamped envelopes. Holding my blanket tightly as if it will shield me from the world I head to the kitchen instead. 

I open the empty fridge, hoping the food fairy would bless me with a treat, only to be disappointed in the spacious void. What am I going to do? The pressure on my chest sunk in hard. I fell to my knees, clutching at my chest. 

I can barely stay afloat in the swirling debt that floods my home. There is no escaping the suffocating amount; no matter how much I lock my doors or plug in the faulty installation. I am ever bathing in the financial burden that never releases its tight grip around my throat. I’m drowning in it. For once, I wish I could swim.

Unobtainable Hope

This one shot was inspired by a dream. It was beautiful and macabre with meaning. I just loved it. When dreams like this happen, I can’t wait to share them and write out the despair for everyone else to feel. It’s not a suspenseful thriller like I usually have, or a mild horror for once. However, to me, it feels like it’s the out-of-reach happiness and uncomfortable. My kind of story.

-Turan

It was dark and cool while the wind blew gently across the enclosed town. Felix sat on the hillside to watch the kites lull about the sky. The dance between wind currents was entrancing. How the string-less kites frolicked about, weaving up, down, around, and through each other. How such free-spirited creatures played whimsically above the bland and boring town was perplexing to her.

Yet, here they were day in and day out. Some came and went, never to return while the others stayed above the town for years in the clouds above. It was a kind of magic Felix admired. Although, it was not a typically shared feeling for the rest of the residents in town.

The town was a cold and sheltered place filled with narrow-minded elders. Their mindset was battered into their minds as young children until they became just as narrow. Felix fought the pressure, wishing for something different. If only she could be as free as the kites.

Despite her wish, she also knew the dangers of being a kite. Glancing down across the town’s roof-tops, Felix spotted the few captured kites. Sadly they pulled at the strings attached to their backs, unable to escape. The wind was less joyful to them, almost painfully so. The captured kites bobbed pitifully with their restraints, lowering close to the ground ever so slowly.

Felix despised the folks for this barbaric practice. Each time a kite was caught and bound to a rope, it would slow them down to a dull float. All the life was sucked out of them and eventually they would collapse to the ground. It was sad to witness.

Standing up with a heavy sigh, Felix brushed at the back of her pants. The night had deepened into a dark gloomy haze, blocking the sight of the playful kites in the sky. Without the sweet visions of freedom, sitting on a cold, mundane hillside no longer had a point.

Making the trek back towards her home, she took one lingering look at the horizon past the fence line. What kind of life lived beyond the barricade?

The sound of a cloth tearing sharply caught her attention nearby. Felix gasped, startled by the sound. Over at the nearby fence line was a faltering kite. Its wing had caught the sharp edge of the fence as it plummeted to the base of the hill.

Without hesitation, Felix ran towards it. It took all her leg power to keep from tumbling down the hill from the slightest stumble. She needed to get to the kite post haste. If someone had seen the kite descend, it would be captured with no remorse. Felix mustn’t allow it to happen.

Breaking past a small line of bushes, Felix scanned the ground for the poor creature. It had landed somewhere in the small park, but with the gloomy haze rolling in, it was hard to see the earthy-toned kite.  Taking a few steps forward, a small voice called out to her.

“Looking for the kite?”

Felix yelped, grabbing at her chest with a shake. Standing not far from her was a girl her age. She wore a small, dark dress with white puffs on the shoulder. Her pale hair was held back with a plain black band, framing her pale face with dark circled eyes. The girl wore a hollow expression, one Felix knew very well. All the townspeople shared the same expression. Felix knew this girl just like she knew every person in town.

She appeared out of nowhere one day much like several others in town. With no way in or out of the fence, it was always a mystery. Felix licked her dried lips, catching her breath and settling her fast-beating heart.

“W-what kite? I didn’t see any. You must be mistaken.”

Felix stammered, turning back to the park to look around desperately. She needed to protect the kite now that Kindrei showed up.  Others would be short to follow. A small flutter of cloth caught Felix’s eye as she started speed walking.

“I know you saw it. You watch the clouds each night on that hillside. The moment it fell, you bolted down here.”

Felix looked over her shoulder nervously with no pause. “You were watching me?”

Kindrei fluttered her eyes with surprise. “W-well, not really. I was walking home when I spotted you.”

Felix chuckled wearily, picking up her pace towards the kite. “So watching me.”

The kite flittered on the ground, trying to take flight. This time it was in clear view to both her and Kindrei. Felix bolted, racing against unknown predators.

“Are you going to string it?!” Kindrei cried out after Felix. Something in her voice made her stop. Panting, she watched the poor creature on the ground attempt to launch off with no success. Determination filled her heart. Someone needs to protect it.

Felix turned, facing Kindrei with a bold puffed chest. “No. I’m going to save it.”

The small glint of emotion behind Kindrei’s eyes was replaced by shock. She stood unmoving, almost frozen from the surprise. Felix took advantage of the moment, finishing the gap between them and the kite. Kneeling beside the creature, Felix hovered her hands over the top of the kite’s body. This was the first time she had seen it up close like this.

The kite’s body was smooth with microfiber scales. From a distance it looked rough like cotton, giving a shirt-like appeal. Upon closer inspection, the shape of the kite mimicked a long koi fish. The fins were long and flowing leaving a trail of long slender strands of cloth. To Felix’s surprise, it had a glossy shine to it. The body was hollow and see-through to allow air to pass easily within. Lowering her hands gingerly towards the kite’s body, she offered a soft hush to the creature

“Shhh, little one. It’s ok. I want to help you.”

Despite her attempt to relax the wounded kite, it panicked worse than before.  It flailed wildly below her hands, trying to escape. With fast reflexes, Felix snatched at its body. Although it was a hallow creature, the structure of the kite was a strong shell. It would not bend no matter how much pressure she applied. Was it made from some kind of magical bone or thin wood paper? It rattled in her hands, unable to fight its way out of Felix’s grasp.

Standing up slowly with her arms at full distance, Felix waited for the creature to settle down. Its fins and tail flicked a few times more before settling into a peaceful flow with the wind. It was incredible how beautiful this creation was. Felix now understood the reason people strove to catch and string the creatures. Holding it close to her body, Felix offered it a small comforting hug.

“It’s ok little fella. You’ll be back into the sky in no time.”

Timid footsteps behind her pulled her attention back to the girl nearby. Felix turned defensively towards Kindrei. With Narrow eyes, she waited apprehensively for an attack. It never came. Instead, she stood still and stared back at her with unreadable eyes.

“Are you going to fight me for it?”

“No.”

Felix relaxed, still keeping her guard. She didn’t trust Kindrei. Yet. Looking down at the koi kite, Kindrei pointed at the body.

“It has a cut in the fabric.”

Felix leaned over the kite to look. The gash was long and jagged. No blood was present since there were no insides. How was she going to fix it? Felix shot her eyes up at Kindrei.

“You wouldn’t happen to know how to fix it would you?”

With equal suspicion, Kindrei tilted her head. “Are you actually going to release it back to the sky?”

“Yes. I think it’s cruel otherwise to keep such a free creature. Why would I want to trap it here?”

“Why would you care so much for it? No one else does.”

Felix got quite mad at her words. “Just because everyone in this town is heartless, doesn’t mean I want to be.”

Stomping past Kindrei, Felix headed home. The small doll-like girl gapped at her a moment before falling in behind her to follow. Felix glanced at her, keeping a steady pace. Just because she held the kite, didn’t mean someone wouldn’t fight her for it. Felix wanted to make it home quickly to hide the poor thing.

“When are you going to release it?”

Felix bit at her lip. She had not thought that far ahead. “In a few days is the wind festival, I’ll release it then. Most people usually show off their stringed kites so no one will question me if I try to throw it to the sky from the hill.”

Kindrei light up. It was strange to see her smile since she had never done so in the past. No one ever did.

“Can I join you too?”

Felix smirked. “Only if you aren’t going to stop me.”

“I can bring a kite, too.”

The more they spoke on their way home, the better Felix felt about the estranged girl. Maybe they could become closer friends. It would be nice to share a secret with someone whom she could trust. Felix could hardly wait for the festival.

The day arrived, blowing fierce winds throughout the town. Dressed and ready, Felix held the repaired kite tightly against her chest. It was a challenge to allow the poor thing to fly about freely in her room without having to bind it down. There was a hook on its back that Felix could have done so, but fear that the string would never come off again dissuaded her.

The hillside came into view alongside Kindrei. She stood in her dress with the white puffy arms. Her hair was in pig-tails this time with a black beret sitting in the middle. Felix frowned. She looked even more like a doll than before.

Running up to her side, they smiled at each other before heading up the hill together. Felix noticed a small kite under Kindrei’s arm. It had several misshapen cube blocks stacked on top of each other in different sizes. Felix had never seen something like it before. Though, there were always strange wild kites of different kinds. You would rarely ever see the same style twice.

At the top of the hill, the wind blew consistently. It was a perfect day to release the koi kite. With one last look at the fish, Felix kissed its cheek.

“Farewell. Fly strong and don’t get caught again.”

The kite only flicked its tail anxiously in response. It wanted to fly free, not stay for goodbyes. Chuckling, Felix gripped its belly tight. With a small run and powerful throw, Felix flung the kite hard into the gust of wind. It took off in a frenzy, swishing hard into the air like water. Without looking back, it floated off into the distance.

Felix shed a small tear, feeling silly at the parting. Turning to Kindrei, she looked at the small kite.

“Your turn. Did you save this one too?”

Kindrei didn’t respond. With a  solemn stare, Kindrei pulled forward the kite. Her distance eyes almost seemed to stare past the kite’s presence. With a weak grip, she tossed the lifeless shell into the wind. It fluttered in the wind a moment before hurtling to the ground off the hillside. Felix gasped.

“Don’t worry, let me help!”

Taking off before Kindrei could reply, she chased the kite to pick it up. It felt strange holding the empty shell. Felix could tell immediately something was off. Refusing to acknowledge it, Felix tried with all her might to throw the kite into the wind. It fell back to the ground with a heavy thud a few feet away.

Felix cried out in frustration. She wasn’t going to give up. Kindrei called out, her voice carrying in the wind after her.

“Stop. It’s not going to fly.”

Felix grabbed the kite once more, this time running hard down the hill.

“Felix! Stop! It’s a flightless kite!”

“Never! I’ll help you get it to fly! It can be free!”

Felix jumped, holding the kite high up in the air above her. It refused to take off, hardly leaving her hand like a rock. Kindrei chased after her, this time yelling angrily.

“It’s not going to work! It’s flightless now!”

Not accepting the truth, Felix ran the full length of the hill down. With one last final leap, Felix cried out with a hard throw. Her tears streamed down her face as she watched the kite land with a thud on the ground before tumbling. Flipping and rolling over herself, Felix fought to flatten herself out on the flat part of the hill.

Cut and bruised, Felix hissed in pain. Kindrei held her skirt up while she ran, stopping short close by. With fists full of her dress, she threw it down in front of her with a huff.

“I told you! It’s Flightless! Once a kite is bound, it will never fly again! Why didn’t you listen to me!”

Felix pushed herself up, wiping the tears from her eyes. Why was Kindrei so angry?

“I thought I could give its freedom back…”

“Stupid! Once someone takes their freedom, they can never return to the sky! They are bound to the ground like humans are!”

Felix stood up, stepping closer to Kindrei. “Listen, I just-“

“No! You are just as blind as the rest of them! You saved one, but you can’t save them all.”

With a turn Kindrei began to stomp off, leaving Felix behind at the hill. With a sudden realization, Felix grabbed at Kindrei’s arm. With a hard tug, she pulled her back.

“W-what are you-” Kindrei’s voice was filled with fear at the sharp tug.

Felix forced Kindrei to turn around and reached out to the middle of her back. Before Kindrei could escape her touch, Felix felt a hard round hoop. Kindrei froze. It all made sense now.

“You… are a flightless kite…”

The howling wind was all that spoke for a long time. Felix dropped her arm to her side and waited patiently. She did not think anything differently of Kindrei. Instead, she adored her more. Finally, Kindrei spoke the silence.

“Stringed kites don’t die when they are bound. They lose their freedom here instead.”

Felix finally understood. They were forever trapped because they could never leave. No one ever could.

Painful loss

Recently, I experienced a loss of a brother, a good friend, and someone who I cherished deeply. The only way I know how to deal with emotions is through writing. I generally don’t share a lot of my own experiences, pain, or feelings, but this one I decided should not go into the depths of my archives. I wanted to share this loss with everyone so that if it touches even just one person’s heart, they will know they are not alone. 

If you need help, don’t be afraid to reach out or look for local groups and programs in your area. Don’t suffer alone because you are not. Every life matters and that includes you. We all bleed and we all feel the same pain. 

– The Turnip Patch.

___________

Stan stood by the plot of recently dug-up dirt. The headstone was shiny and new, each letter engraved sharp, crisp, and bright. It didn’t suit the gloomy graveyard at all. Standing out like a sore thumb against the cloudy dim day. Clenching his fist, he wished it didn’t look so cheerful. 

All Stan wanted deeply in his heart was to kick the dirt upon it, smudge the filth all over, and dampen the beautiful polished stone. A lump grew in his throat, his chest tightened up, and his eyes clouded over with tears that threatened to spill. He hated every detail of the block that held the name of his beloved. 

Anger and rage boiled up under his breath, the fire stroked by every small perfect detail of the grave marker. It was wrong. All wrong. Yet in all his pain and anguish, there was nothing he could do to change the stone’s meaning. 

It was the only proof that it was true. An honest pillar that could not be manipulated or warped. Stan grit his teeth, holding back his outburst. Why wasn’t he allowed to see the funeral? Why couldn’t he visit them while they were still alive in the hospital? Why did their family have to be so cold? 

They knew very well how much Stan meant to their child and still, they blocked every chance to see each other one last time. Stan knew the reason. He always knew. 

Not once did Marcus’ family ever approve of their relationship. Not once did they ever allow acceptance that their child was gay. It tore at Stan’s heart knowing that the family’s narrow-mindedness was the reason Marcus died alone. Had it not been for Marcus’ sister, Stan would have never heard the news at all. 

Even in all her power, there was nothing she could do to override the territorial parents and brooding grandma to allow Stan one last kiss goodbye.

A small touch on his shoulder brought him out of the painful memories. Tracy offered a tissue, her expression soft and understanding. Stan had her to thank for even showing him where Marcus’ grave was located. If only it could have been sooner. The words ‘If only’ seemed to be Stan’s constant regret.

“Thank you for bringing me here.” Stan’s voice was void of any emotion. It was cold and empty. Tracy nodded in understanding.

“I am so sorry I wasn’t strong enough to stand up for him. I am equally a coward.”

Stan turned numbly, letting a tear roll down his cheek. Quickly he pulled her in for an embrace, shaking while he held back his rage. It took a moment for him to compose himself. Tracy lifted her arms tenderly to hug him back.

“There would have been nothing you could have done to change their mind. Marcus knew what he was getting into. We both knew.”

They stood a moment in silence before Stan pulled back from her. He held onto her arms, his tears freely flowing. Tracy sighed heavily, using the sleeve of her hoodie to wipe his tears away. 

“Tracy… promise me.”

Tracy paused her hand, looking Stan head-on as he continued, “Take Val and get out of this fucking town. Leave. Go as far as you can. Marcus and I may have covered you from getting caught with her, but now that he is gone… it won’t be long before they notice.” 

Tracy’s jaw dropped. Before she could reply, Stan shoved his hand into his pocket. He pulled out a heavy bag and forced it into her hands. “This was all the money he saved up. We were planning to travel with it before…”

The pain hurt too much to finish his sentence. Tracy’s bottom lip quivered. With a nod she understood.

“We’ll leave in a few days. I know they will be watching me closely. Even today it was hard to slip out to find you. I knew… once he got sick… it would be a matter of time.”

A small tear slipped down her cheek before she pulled Stan in for a greater hug. They cried together before she pulled away, taking a few steps backward. “What are you going to do now?”

Stan took a breath. It was a slow painful breath. He wasn’t even sure now. “I don’t know. But now that I am alone without him, there isn’t much for me here either. I have nowhere else to go.”

Tracy looked at the cash in her hand, then up at him. “Come with us. I am sure this will be enough for-“

“No. Don’t worry about me. I’ll deal with the bigoted town. You guys have a chance to find happiness.”

With a sad nod, Tracy pocketed the money. “You know, he loved you until the very end.”

“I know.”

“Goodbye, Stan. I love you.”

With a chuckle, Stan offered a sincere smile. “I love you, too. Now go. Tell Val and get home before your parents are suspicious.”

Tracy offered one last smile, then turned and ran out of the graveyard. Several moments passed while Stan watched her frame disappear in the distance. Turning back to the grave, Stan sobbed. Collapsing to the ground, he fumbled to pull out the handheld gun from the small of his back. 

Coarsely, he spoke to the gravestone. “I’ll see you soon, my love.”

With a loud crack in the distance, Tracy stopped in her tracks. The trickle of adrenaline flowed down her spine and her face paled. Without turning around, she knew what had occurred. Her heart sank while she closed her eyes tightly. 

“God I hate this fucking town.”

Without any more time wasted, she sprinted down the street faster than she ever could.

Strike for Power

Writing prompt from the book 5000 writing prompts:  Any person who kills her will inherit her power.

This originally was a writing prompt that turned into a longer story. I have no regrats.

– Turan

________________

Running through the woods, Alex tripped over a stump and rolled across the leaf-covered ground. Dirt and rocks cut and bruised her skin as she tumbled. With a hard groan, Alex pushed herself up. She couldn’t waste a single moment. They were hunting her. 

Wiping the tears off her face, Alex stifled her pain. There was no room for error in her escape. Who knows what power they possessed in return. She pushed herself to her feet, not even bothering to brush herself off. Picking up the pace, Alex forced into a light jog. Her body ached and screamed at her. How long had she been running? Internally she cursed. If only she never killed that stupid boy, she could be free.

It was two weeks ago when she took the shortcut home. It was a small path through the forest beside a small flowing stream. Alex had taken this path every day since starting school, taking it to and from home. It was a beautiful, forgotten, beaten path: overgrown from years of neglect. She had stumbled upon it one day when she was running from her dad. 

He was drunk, yelling at her for something her mother did or didn’t do. Alex couldn’t remember the reason anymore from how often it happened. Since then, she’d explored each pathway and where they led. It was a convenient secret, leading her across town to just about any place she needed to go. It wasn’t long until Alex had each path and section of the forest memorized. 

Even more surprising was how no one ever knew about the connected ways, nor did she bother to tell them. Her biggest fear was that more people would find them, ruining her only solace away from the forsaken town.

Only today, it was the first time she had ever come across something on the path. Alex froze, feeling the adrenaline kick in, chilling her to the core. Should she run back to the school and wait? She never needed a backup plan for this type of situation. 

She shuffled awkwardly. Looking forward and then back down the path to the school, she debated her options. A small yowl caught her off guard. She jumped at the sound. Was it a wounded animal? 

Alex waited a moment longer before clenching her fist tightly with determination. Taking a small breath in, she decided to step forward. Timidly approaching the body, Alex spotted reddish fur, glowing from the flashing sunlight that broke through the tree coverage. It was a fox, a large one to boot.

With more confidence, she rushed to the beast’s side, checking to see if it was still breathing. The fox whimpered at her touch, shivering in fear weakly. It broke Alex’s heart. 

The fox must have been afraid she was a predator. With a soft voice, she stroked its fur gently. “Shh. Don’t be afraid. I won’t hurt you.”

The creature pulled itself up weakly and tried to run away. Right then, Alex spotted the blood-soaked fur on its leg and shoulder. She gasped with concern. Who could have done this to the poor animal? 

Tenderly, Alex slid her arm under the fox’s body and lifted it. The poor creature yipped, struggling against her hold.

“Please, be still. Your hurt, little one. I just want to help you.”

Placing it down again, she touched her fingers to the frightened fox’s cheek, stroking it softly to ease them. The fox’s eyes widened, almost human-like. It panted heavily and stared back at her, scanning her eyes for a moment. Alex continued to rub her finger along the fox’s jaw line. Again Alex reassured the poor mammal. 

“It’s ok. You’ll be safe in my care.”

Her words were enough for the beast to relax. Letting go of its resistance, the fox slumped into her arms. Alex waited a moment before slowly moving her hands towards the fox’s paws. She checked to make sure no bones were protruding or any missing chunks. The fur was matted and dirty, some of it with dried blood. 

Poor thing, Alex thought. Without hesitation, she swooped the fox into her arms tightly and ran. If she could get to her tree house quick enough, she could get provisions for the little one before getting caught. 

Alex prayed that her dad was still out so she could sneak about without being questioned. Time was of the essence. Weaving through and down the path, Alex made quick haste. 

Before she knew it, the view of her backyard was in sight. She slowed down, kneeling behind a bush to quickly scan the house windows. The lights were all off, and there was no movement that she could see. Perfect, she thought with a smirk.

Alex bolted out of the forest to the base of the tree house. There was a small ladder that led to the top. It took a bit of manoeuvring to keep the fox tightly to her chest and ascend the shaking ladder. 

Thankfully the little creature was light that it posed no real difficulty. Reaching the top, however, was the real struggle. Balancing as much as possible, Alex grabbed the latch above to open the trap door. It was a little tricky, but after years of sneaking full arms of food, clothing, and toys from her room, Alex had become a bit of a pro. 

Once she flipped the trap door, she climbed the last few rungs enough to pull herself up, sliding to her bottom first, then brought her feet in before closing the latch. It was a small room; with a small bed in the corner, a battery-operated lamp, a travel-sized oven attracted to a solar panel battery, and a table with books, papers, and pens. From the roof hung a hammock full of clothes, bags of snacks and a few other blankets in case of cold nights. 

Alex placed the poor animal beside her bed and reached for a towel. Grabbing an old shirt, she ripped it into shreds for bandages.

There wasn’t much she had to offer the fox, and there was no fresh water to clean the wounds. Alex reached for a small cushion and placed it under its head. It was all she could offer for comfort until she returned from inside the house. Petting the foxes face, she reassured it. 

“I have to leave you for a moment. You’ll be safe in here. I will come back in a moment with fresh water and supplies to take care of your wounds.”

She knew the animal couldn’t understand her, but it gave her comfort. If she could help it feel at home, it was worthwhile. Grabbing her backpack from a hook on the wall, she swung it on her back and kicked open the trap door. 

With a small jump, Alex skipped a few ladder rungs and descended quickly. Running towards the house on high alert, Alex opened the door silently. 

Without turning on a light, she crouched low and tipped-toe to her bedroom. First, she needed a small blanket and towel. She rolled them up quickly and shoved them into her bag.

Next, she reached the bathroom, pulling out her cellphone to turn on the light. Quickly opening the drawer, she grabbed band-aids, gauze, and soap. There also was a white trash bag roll inside that she ripped off a few bags. It was just for precaution and to throw away what may have been too soiled by the fox’s blood.

Lastly, she headed back to the kitchen. Spotting the clock, she watched the hand strike 7 o’clock. The chime rang as a flash of light crossed the wall. Ducking further, Alex sped to the kitchen pantry. A diesel truck pulled into the driveway, music blaring. It clunked hard, the gears grinding into park to stop. She was running out of time. 

Grabbing several water bottles, Alex shoved them into her bag until full to the brim. With a tight pull on her bag strings, she lifted the bag and booked it to the back door. 

The front door opened when she closed the back, hiding the noise. Ducking behind the door, she could hear the staggering steps of her father. 

Just by the uneven pattern, she could tell he had been drinking. Figures. Alex waited a moment longer as the steps took down the hall towards the bedrooms. She pushed off and ran back to the ladder, climbing it gracefully. Lifting the trapdoor carefully, Alex slid inside the house and closed the door silently. She waited before sitting up with a heavy sigh.

Turning her attention back to the fox, it had drifted into a deep sleep. Hopefully, she was not too late to help the little creature. Setting up the supplies she gathered, she began to work. Pouring water on the small towels, Alex cleaned the blood and dirt away. 

It took time to clear all the wounds and the discolour from the blood. Taking the gauze, Alex pressed them into the open wounds, then wrapped the shreds of t-shirt around the fox’s body to hold them in place. She covered the rest of the injuries on the fox’s legs and neck. 

It looked like whatever was trying to attack the poor animal intended to kill it. What would have happened if Alex decided to pass it by and do nothing? She shuttered at the thought. It was better not to think about it.

Finish dressing the wounds, Alex slumped back, stretching out her legs. She watched the fox sleep peacefully in a deep slumber. She discovered his gender while cleaning his legs and thought now about what to name the little guy. Would it be ok to keep him until he recovered enough to leave on his own? 

Tapping the bottom of her chin, Alex thought for a moment. The fox slept peacefully, curling up into the blanket she wrapped around him after she finished washing his fur. Despite the bandages, he didn’t look to be suffering much. It made her happy. 

Alex had never owned a pet before, and the thought of keeping a secret pet fox from her dad made her giggle mischievously. She would be like the character in a comic she read once, where a girl found a magic rabbit. They got into all sorts of trouble on their adventures. It was one of Alex’s favourite books.

“I know,” Alex rolled to her stomach, crawling in closer to lay beside the sleeping fox, “I will call you Flax. It’s the name of the rabbit in the stories I used to read.”

Giving the small fox a head scratch, Alex smiled. Flax stretched sleepily, flicking his bandaged paw before lazily leaning his head into her hand. Alex giggled. Her head close to his, she whispered in a low voice. 

“I wish I had magic powers, you know? At least then, I could leave here and take care of myself. Leave this terrible house. Leave this awful town. I hate it here.”

Her smile faded. If only she could leave. With a small sigh, Alex closed her eyes. “Will you be my magical sidekick, Flax?”

With that, she drifted off to sleep.

In the morning, she woke up with Flax still sleeping in her hand. He was awake, staring at her, waiting for her to wake up. Never did he complain or cry. Thankfully, Alex had some snacks stored away to feed them both breakfast. She sat on the floor, breaking off small chunks of her granola bar to feed Flax. 

He was feeling much chipper, gleefully taking the small bites to chop down.  After eating, Alex unwrapped the bandages to clean the wounds with fresh gauze. Only, when she pulled them away, there was no sight of any cuts. 

In a bit of confusion, Alex chuckled. “Well, I don’t know if I made the whole thing up or if foxes just heal fast, but you’re all better now.”

Petting the fox behind the ears, she frowned. “Does… this mean I need to let you go free?”

Flax sneezed in response. He looked upset and almost disagreed with her. Alex put her hands on her hip. “What, does that mean you want to stay?”

With a yip, Flax replied. He sat straight, flicking his bushy tail.

“Alright, if you insist. Welcome to Castle El’forte. It’s my home away from home. Cause the real one sucks.”

The alarm on Alex’s phone began to ring, pulling her attention away. “Oh, shoot! I need to get ready for school! Come, let me take you in. Dad’s gone early in the day for work and always comes home late. If I time it right, I never have to see him. He doesn’t bother to seek me out either.”

With that, she offered her shoulder, and Flax hopped on. It was a start of a beautiful relationship. 

Each day Flax would follow her to school, wait on the path until she returned and then they would play until it was time to sneak back up into the tree house. Alex finally found hope, living her days happy alongside Flax. But with everything in Alex’s life, it never lasted.  Two weeks had gone by, and this time when she came out of school towards the path, Flax wasn’t there. Odd, Alex thought, calling out for him a few times.

“Flax? Flax! Where are you hiding?”

Maybe it was a game? Alex scanned about more before taking a few steps into the forest. Could it be a new game he was playing with her? Smiling weakly, she decided to play along. 

“Alright, I guess I am just going to keep heading home! Don’t try to sneak up on me!”

Alex continued, walking for a while, waiting. Nothing came after several minutes, which caused her to worry. Where did he go? 

She stopped to look back towards the school with a frown. Did Flax maybe stay at home today? Facing homeward bound, Alex broke into a hurried jog. There was only one way to find out. 

The forest was a blur when the tree house popped into view. Not wasting time looking for her dad, she dropped her bag to the ground and called out for Flax. Her voice laced with concern and fear. Looking up to the tree house, she climbed the ladder in a rush.  The trap door was unlocked, making it easy for her to pop open.

“Flax, are you-“

All the blood drained from her face. Her body shook with rage as she dropped down the ladder in a frenzy. Racing the back door, she ripped it open and stomped inside. She didn’t have to go far. Sitting on a chair in the kitchen was her dad. His back to her as she stormed in.

“What did you do?”

He was lighting another cigarette, taking his time to reply. He deliberately took a deep breath of the smoke and exhaled, meeting Alex with an indifferent attitude.

“What the hell did you do to all my stuff?!”

Finally, he glanced at Alex. “I cleaned it out.”

Flabbergasted, Alex shook her head. “Cleaned it out?! That was all my stuff! You had no right!”

Her dad slammed his fist against the table. “Don’t tell me what I have a right to do in my own house! With my property! You’ve been wasting your time up there when you are supposed to be living here! Your lucky I haven’t taken a chain saw to the tree to cut it down! You are too old to be playing games! Time to wake up!”

Alex shook with anger. How dare he tell her she needed to wake up. 

“I need to stop playing games? Who’s getting pissed drunk every night and wasting all the money on alcohol? Every day I need to fend for myself because my useless dad-“

Alex felt the dread trickle down her spine at how fast her dad shot out of the chair. His face was menacing. Puffing his chest out, he towered over her. 

“What did you call me? After all, I have done for you? I’ve given a roof over your head.  Even allowed you to spend night after night in that tree house: and for what? This disrespect? I know you think you are so clever. I saw the bags of bloody rags in the trash and the tiffs of fur all over the yard. You are hiding a damn mutt from me! You know the rules around here: no pets allowed! So, from now on, you are no longer allowed up in that tree house, and you’re getting a job to start paying for things around here!”

Alex took several steps back towards the wall as her dad yelled at her. His face was blistering red as spittle flung out at her. Her body did the one thing it could. It turned towards the door and fled. Her dad reached out, grabbing her shirt to pull her back before she could make it. It tore just enough for her to escape his reach. He may have been stronger than her, but she was nimble. 

Opening the door with great force, she managed to slam it into his face. He collided hard with it, falling back to the floor with a roar. Alex didn’t bother looking back, running full force towards the forest. Before she hit the tree line, she heard a yip from Flax. 

Alex whipped her head towards him, spotting him jumping near a different pathway. She pivoted on the spot and bolted in his direction.

“Flax!”

The second she caught up, he turned and led her down the pathway. It was the pathway that took them out of town. Alex’s heart was pounding, her legs weightless. Leaves, twigs and branches flew past her in a blur. All she could see was Flax sprinting like a golden light guiding her. 

Ahead of them was a clearance leading them just outside of the town. Once on the other side, Alex would be clear from the town’s borders and into the wilds. Her spirit soured. Finally, she was leaving this horrible place. 

Reaching the edge of the treeline, Alex almost tripped over Flax. Stopping stiff in his tracks, he paused with focused eyes. Alex collapsed to her knees while panting. “What… what is it… boy?”

She wiped the sweat streaming down her forehead before looking into the clearing. Covering her mouth quickly to mute the startled scream, Alex spotted dark figures out in the opening. They were younger kids calling out, all taunting some being. 

“Here, little weasel! We know you are trying to escape here! No use hiding! Come out and face your fate!”

Alex’s eyes widened. Were they talking about her? How did they know she was trying to escape. A tug on her sleeve made Alex jump. Flax was trying to get her attention, pulling her off the path to the right. His eyes were wide with fear as well. Was Flax scared of the teens as well? 

She had no choice but to follow. Alex did her best to sneak through the thicket. They slowly made their way downwind of the kids before Flax looked back at her. With a nod, Alex understood. They were going to try and run to the other side. It was the only way to freedom. 

Reaching out to Flax, she gave him a soft pat. “We can do it. We are almost free of this place! We’ll start our own adventure.”

It wasn’t a reassuring speech, but it was enough to gear her into the ready. Alex looked across the field, listening carefully for the sounds of the kids in the distance. With a deep breath, she readied herself. “Alright, on the count of three. One, two…, Three!”

Both Alex and Flax bolted from the tree line. The open breeze greeted Alex, cooling her down from the sweat and heat of running. The field was longer than she thought. Just passing the halfway mark, she finally heard the cries of the teenagers. “Look! Over there! There it is! And there is another person with it!”

Alex looked over her shoulder to spot several kids running in their direction. Panic erupted over her, pushing her to run for her life. The last words she heard echoing in her mind rang clear as day.

“What do we do with the other one?”

“Kill them, too.”

Alex glanced down at Flax running ahead of her. He looked at her with terror, sprinting in front of her to lead the way. 

What was going on? Why did they want to kill them?! 

A sharp whistle glanced by her ear suddenly. The noise made her veer off a little from Flax’s path as she tried to dodge whatever it was. A second one flew past as she looked over her shoulder. The kids had enormous slingshots that harnessed to their forearms. One of the kids loaded it up again while running and shot it towards her. Unable to avoid the rock in time, it hit her square in the shoulder. “Ow!”

Stumbling a little, Alex now realized what had caused the wounds to Flax’s body. It wasn’t her they were after; it was him. Flax slowed down, meeting up to her side once more. He couldn’t help her with the pain, only encouraging her to run faster. Alex choked back her tears and focused on the tree line. 

They just needed to outrun them all and hide. On the other side of the wilds, there was a river. If they could get to it, they might have a chance to escape them. “Flax, if we can get to the river, they won’t follow us!”

The fox was more intelligent than he should have been. With a nod, he ran in front again and sped up. They were nearing the wilds quickly when the kids began to slow down. Alex laughed excitedly. “Flax! They slowed down! We might lose them before-“

SNAP. 

The loud crack of a metal machine shot out of the ground ahead of her. Alex slowed down, realizing they ran straight into danger. Traps laid all over. Thankfully Flax was not caught, but he too crocheted low. 

Leaves covered the ground heavily, covering any sights of metal that could glint in the low sunrise. It was the twilight hour, making it nearly impossible to scan for danger. 

Laughter carried from the kids as they walked the rest of the way towards them. They needed to keep moving! Slowly Alex hopped about, avoiding large bundles of potential traps. A few times, Alex saw the teeth of the traps peeking out, but not often enough. Bumping her foot against the edge of one, it slapped, catching the edge of her pant light. Alex cried out, afraid that it would trip her to fall into another one. 

Ripping her pants quickly, she needed to make her way faster. A rock smacked her head with a hard thud. A burst of laughter was short to follow as they all cheered. “Good shot!”

Several loud cracks began to follow closely behind them. Alex looked to catch the kids triggering several traps with sticks, catching ground behind them. What was wrong with these guys? Alex fought from sobbing. 

Looking ahead, she spotted Flax yipping at her. He made it past all the traps and was waiting for her. He moved left to right, attempting to give her directions to weave through the traps. Her eyes were blurry with tears as she stumbled through the landmine field. 

Again a rock hit her hard, this time in the leg, successfully tripping her. As she landed, the rock triggered a trap beside her. The snapping teeth caught her arm, cutting her. 

Thankfully it only caught the outside of her arm and didn’t catch the entire thing. The power of the snap could have broken her bone. There was no way Alex would get out of the field in time to avoid the hunting kids. The taunt of an older boy confirmed her feeling.

“I got you now, you bitch. What kind of powers are you going to give me?”

“Powers? What are-” 

Before she could finish, the boy raised his arm high, holding a knife tightly. It plummeted towards her in slow motion, her body frozen with fear. Is this how I’m going to die? A flash of red flung in front of her, colliding with the boy as it pushed him back. Flax sacrificed himself to save her, biting at the boy’s face and arms. 

The teen cried out, grabbing Flax and throwing him off towards the side. Alex watched in fear, everything slowing down as Flax landed into a trap. The teeth jumped up, snapping into his side. With a horrifying crunch, Alex could hear the deep grunt from her friend.

 Blinding rage took over. Alex grabbed at the ground, picking up a trap by the chain. With a painful roar, she turned towards the offender, flinging the chain towards him with all her might. 

The trap flew in an arch, colliding with the teen’s head, triggering the trap to snap shut. Alex stood stunned, watching the boy gurgled blood from his mouth. His eyes stared at her in disbelief.

It was the first time Alex experienced death firsthand. The body slumped to the grass, lifeless. Alex felt bile in her throat but swallowed it down. 

Running to Flax’s side, she pried the trap open and picked up his weakened body. Holding him close, she glared back at the other kids; they stood speechless. Without a word, she slowly trumped through the rest of the traps and ran into the wilds. 

She didn’t stop for a while until she saw the river. Stumbling over the rocks, she placed Flax’s body down to look at him. He was still alive, barely holding on. Alex sobbed, petting his face. 

“No… Nononono! Don’t die on me, ok? Let me get some water, and I can clean this up for you…”

Pulling off her button-up shirt, she prepared to rip it into strips when a voice stopped her.

“Alex. Don’t.”

Looking down at Flax, Alex blinked in shock. He looked her dead in the eyes, speaking once more.

“Listen. Please. Kill me. Those kids, they won’t stop until they take my powers. I want you to have it instead. If you don’t and I die, it will be devastating to the town. You need to contain it.”

Alex dropped her arms, shaking her head. “Flax? Kill you? No! I didn’t mean to kill the other boy, but kill you? I can’t!”

Flax lifted his head weakly. “You must. Please. Take the rock, and bash it against my head. Do it. Just think, you get to have your wish. You get to have magical powers and leave this place. Like you said you wanted, remember.”

Tears streamed down her cheek as she stroked the top of Flax’s head. Voices in the distance rang as the kids continued to chase them down, accompanied by several adults. One of which Alex recognized instantly. 

Clutching at her heart, Alex closed her eyes tightly. The pain swelled her chest. She didn’t have much choice. She killed someone, and now if caught, she’d be in much worse trouble. Running her hand slowly against the ground, Alex fumbled to grab a rock. Opening her eyes once more, she looked into Flax’s fading eyes. “I love you, Flax.”

“I love you too, Alex.”

Clenching her eyes shut a final time, Alex raised her arm high and struck down against the ground. She did it several times, over and over, until the sickening sound became thuds against other stones. Or at least that’s what she made herself believe. 

Tossing the rock aside, Alex rolled herself to the side, turning her back to the corpse of her friend. The cries of people searching for her echoed close by while she sat. All the things Alex experienced in a short period; losing her closest friend, running away from home, killing the boy? None of this was like her adventure book. All she wanted was a friend, but now she had to do it alone.

“Good bye Flax.”

Pushing herself up, she walked towards the river. Where should she go now? Alex was a wanted person for murdering the boy no matter where she went. All she could do now was run deeper into the wilds. Looking at the ground near the fox’s body, she pondered his words. “Magic powers, huh? Guess I’ll have to find out what they are on my own.”

Stepping into the water, she began her new life.

End.

Creeping Doubt

Sam hunched over her clay work, spinning the rotating plate as she molded the mixture within her hands. Focused and poised while she began her work. With agile fingers, she shaped and molded the sculpture within her mind. A bird-like creature, rising slowly out of the base of ash and flames. Scraping and cutting small slivers, she dabbed water to help smooth areas to even them out. Time passed slowly while she worked in silence. 

The overwhelming darkness in the corners of the room began to loom over her. It slithered and crept along the furniture to make its way above. It whispered softly into Sam’s thoughts while she tilted her head, rotating the sculpture to and fro. 

“Terrible.”

Pausing the movement of the plate, Sam’s eyes widened. No, it’s alright. It’s just the outline of my design. I can make it work. Again she grabbed her tools, shaving and trimming along the neckline of the bird. 

With her tongue sticking out, she added small lumps of clay to create wings that expanded outwards. Adding more water, she shaped and formed lines to where the feathers would be, then began to cut and trim. Wiping the sweat from her forehead, she pushed her chair back a bit to look at the form of the clay taking shape. 

“You call this art? Looks like amateur trash.”

The shadowy smoke clouded thick around her as Sam’s confidence dwindled. This time, she spoke out loud against the ever-growing whisper in the back of her mind. 

“I will look better once I get more detail in. Back off.”

Her voice quivered despite her strength against the toxic cloud that began to shroud her working space. Fighting tears, she began to further detail the flames licking at the bird’s wings and torso. A debate slowly started to bounce between her thoughts and the consuming darkness.

Are there too many flames? “Yes.”

Should I give more definition to the feathers? “That’s overdoing it.”

Does this look better here? “It’s getting worse.”

Each comment ate at her, breaking down her will to continue the art piece. Her fist shook with a small tremor while she ground her teeth with anger. The pain swelled into her chest while the dark cloud smothered her. Jumping out of her chair, she threw the tool in her hand to the floor and grabbed at her hair. 

Who cares if she got clay everywhere, she knew the cloud was right. Her skills as an artist were nothing. Glaring up at the cloud, she cried out at it. 

“What do you want?! Why must you always show up! I can never accomplish anything with you constantly talking me down!”

The swirl of the cloud formed into a shaded figure, its void-less eyes mocking her. The shade flickered, never truly appearing in a solid state yet its hands were long and thin like skeletal hands. This was not her first time seeing the smoky being. 

Its appearance started only as a small wisp. With each project she started, it grew,  showing bit by bit. The longer she continued to work on her art the bigger it appeared. Its torso hovered within the smoke, trapped within the fluid motions as it pulled to escape it. Slowly it floated in a snake-shaped appearance to slither through the air. Pausing to hover above her shoulders it whispered close to her ear. 

“You were the one that called me here, asking for my opinions. I am only just being honest to you.”

The figure wrapped his fingers one by one on top of her shoulders, gripping her tightly. With a smooth sway to the other side of her head, it continued to poison her mind. “Besides, why do you fight it? You know deep down you are nothing more than a child wasting your time on these things. Why not do something useful instead?”

Sam clenched her teeth tightly. All this creature ever did was tear her down. Its ghastly appearance reflexed weakly in a mirror on the farthest wall. Its voice was always there, ever since she had first picked up a pencil to draw her ideas. 

The memory plagued her so with acute accuracy. She had been drawing a superhero, designing it from scratch as an idea to one day make real. It was exciting and fun. Sam detailed the women to be strong. It was then when her friend had looked over, frowning at the page. 

“What is that?”

Sam replied, hardly lifting her head as she continued to draw. “It’s a superhero, silly! I made her up. She’s got strong muscles and can fly! And when she is fighting monsters, she can blast them away with her supersonic voice!”

The friend scoffed, puffing out her chest as she raised her nose to Sam. “That sounds stupid. Why would she have a supersonic voice? Besides, there is already a superhero who can fight and is strong. Plus he’s a boy. Girls shouldn’t fight.”

With that, she turned and walked away leaving Sam disheartened. The words repeated in her head. “That sounds stupid.”

Looking up from her page, she watched her friend join a different table laughing. Dropping her pencil she looked down at her superhero. There’s no way it was stupid, was there? 

A small black cloud swirled in front of her appearing out of nowhere. It dimmed the light around her drawing and thinned into a small cord, circling around in front of her. The same damning voice she would recognize to this day.

“She is right, you know. It IS stupid.”

That day, she crumbled the picture up and cried after returning home. The stalking shadow never left her side since. Sam came to know this creature well. It placed doubt within her at every opportunity it could. 

Looking back to her clay model in the present, its venomous words almost rang true. Hugging herself, Sam turned away to face her table. The drawing of her design of a phoenix bursting from the ash blurred as tears began to swell. How did she think something so complicated would actually work? 

Sniffling, she wiped her eyes and picked up the paper, preparing to rip it. A door behind her opened, stopping her with a bit of a jump. Whipping around she saw her friend Gabrielle. They had gone to university together and had met in the arts program. She wasn’t a sculptor, yet she had encouraged Sam to try. Nowadays she frequented her place to see her latest designs had been. 

Gabrielle sang her greeting and pulled off her jacket. “Guess who I saw today! This cute boy working at the cafe down the street. You know, the one we go to now and then? I say, after you clean up, we should head down there and grab a seat. Might be worth it.” 

Sam held the paper of her design behind her back, faking a bright smile to greet her friend.

“Yeah, sounds like a plan. Head on into the living room and I will be right there.”

Sam waited, hoping her friend would not heed attention to her or the clay figurine. But to no avail, the first thing Gabrielle did was head straight to her working area. Spotting the art piece, she gasped. 

Here we go, Sam thought negatively. She is going to confirm how terrible it looked. Crumpling the edge of the paper in her hand with a tight grip, she braced herself.

“Holy cow. You’ve really outdone yourself now. Look at this detail!”

Sam paused, her mouth agape. “What?”

“This is incredible! I thought your take on Zeus’s bust was amazing, but this! Look at the flames! It really looks like this creature is birthing right out of the ground!” Standing up, Gabrielle placed her hands on her hips. “I don’t know how you keep doing this. Every time I think you set the bar, you outdo yourself each time. Do you think you make a few more of these guys?”

Sam closed her mouth, pushing off the table to hang her thumbs in her jean pockets. With a shrug, she nodded. “Yeah, I think I would make a few more. Maybe even change the positions too.” 

Gabrielle brightened. “If you do, I know a guy who can sell them too. It would be a huge break for you. I know you’ve been working your ass off trying to get out there. I’ll help you get more clay and offer anything I can to help. I think you can get them ready before the weekend with ease.”

The dark cloud shanked as Sam’s confidence soared. The whispering shrieks, drowning out by the light that increased with her hope. With a quick look around her room, Sam nodded. Yeah, this was doable. 

“Looks like a shopping trip is in order. First stop, the cafe!”

Gabrielle cheered, returning to admire the phoenix while Sam crossed her arms. With a deep sigh, she smiled. How could she have almost destroyed the drawing? A small black swirl of smoke caught her eye as it loomed close to her ear. 

“Today may be a victory, but I will always be here. You can never get rid of me.”

Sam glared at the creature. She knew it was right, yet without the constant doubt it spewed, she never would keep pushing herself to improve. 

“You’re right. I know for the rest of my life I will have to accept you. As much as you are my toxic thoughts, you are also my muse.”

With a smirk, Sam swiped the remaining cloud away. The small cries of the whisper vanished, relieving her of the weight of her own crushing doubt. Looking over at her friend, she was grateful. One step at a time, she would continue to move forward and not let her personal demon stop her from being an artist. 

“Bring it on.”