Mar 12
fiction 0 comments challenge: Pal

Ghosts of The Mind

Have you ever had an imaginary friend? Chances are, you probably have at least once in your life, but there was no friend like Madeline. This is the story of a little lady, seven years old, who had a best friend that lived in her head. Mind you, this friend was as real as night and day. Sometimes, the best kind of friends are the ones that are dead. Before you think I’m a psychopath, let’s talk about Little Lady. She had a friend outside of her head once, Emma was her name, but their friendship was cut loose when death came to gather what it had claimed. Her heart was weak and stopped, but Little Lady was a believer in ghosts. That was, at least, for a few years and during those few years, Madeline had developed similar traits to Little Lady’s late friend. Her imaginary friend wasn’t as imaginary as she had thought.
Mar 12

Come Little Fairy

Little fairies like candy.
Their wings flutter at the sound of their crunch.
They swoon at their taste.
Their eyes grow wide when they are offered.
In this excitement,
a little fairy weaved from window to window.
She found a chocolate square,
half of a mint,
a piece of chewing gum,
and a few grains of sugar.
The little fairy was not delighted.
She had expected more from the village.
Their offerings were growing small.
It seemed they didn't care to feed the fairies.
She cradled her candy,
taking small helpings at a time,
and fluttered towards the dark wood to nibble,
but there came the candyman.
His top hat was black,
his suit was black,
his shoes were black,
and even his socks were black.
He had a green expression
like that of a ghastly cabbage,
but the sweetness he carried
was more or less, burst with color.
Mar 12
cmhemingwa's picture

Laugh

He remembered he almost cried, but instead he laughed. It was what he did in troubling situations, a defense mechanism. Something he did to protect himself. Dad always told him boys shouldn’t cry, he never said they couldn't laugh. It was awkward at times, especially in places like funerals, but everyone knew it stopped him from breaking down. We all thought it was such a smart idea, brilliant even, until he could no longer tell the difference between such conflicting emotions as happiness and sadness. He was stuck in a tornado of emotions and feelings with no hope of ever getting out. A hell inside his own head where there was no help available. The worst part was, no one even tried to help him. We were all caught up in his happy front that we thought he was fine, we all ignored his pain, always brushing off his cries for help disguised as a laugh. I can barely remember it now, what he was like normally.
Mar 12
cmhemingwa's picture

Eden Whittaker

The world was full of people who are in love with Eden Whittaker. They are opposite of of few and far between, plentiful and everywhere. The world’s great sweetheart, she could do no wrong. She had never caused trouble, never been a part of a controversy, she was just perfect. Everyone agrees that she is beautiful, subjective beauty in a human form. She had almost everyone fooled, but she had one flaw, she was too perfect. She seemed to be artificial, humans aren’t that perfect. Humans are flawed creatures, that’s what charming about us. Our imperfections accentuate our perfections, she doesn't do that. Eden is like a barbie. She starts off fun and exciting, but her plastic skin goes dull as she is passed around. Soon she will be replaced like all toys eventually are. Either replaced, destroyed or forgotten. Few of us realize this, our eyes aren’t fogged up by her dazzling smile and we are not blinded by the lie that she is.
Mar 12
cmhemingwa's picture

Scarecrow

The crimes he committed were the worst we had ever seen. Every new body we found was in a strange yet gruesome place and most could not handle it. We lost so many trainees and even some older vets, it was just to intense. Rarely did he repeat a body display, but there was one he was partial to. His favorite was the scarecrow. He would nail his victim’s hands to the wooden frame, then force hay into their body for the scarecrow stuffing. Clean, new hay was always used of course, he needed everything perfect and dirty, old hay would ruin everything. In the end the victim would be placed in a field to die alone, scared and in indescribable pain. The latest of his treachery was new to us though. The only reason why found it was because a hiker slipped off the trail into a ditch where the body was. She was trapped down there with a broken leg and a rotting corpse for hours, helplessly calling out until a park ranger heard her.
Mar 12
cmhemingwa's picture

Climb

My fists flew through the air with deadly precision and impacted against my opponent's body. I had been training for years to become the best boxing champion around. After my devastating fall from grace years ago, I began to reform not only my image but also my body. People have seen me all around town doing different training methods. Many times I was seen at the local rock climbing wall buffing up my arms and working on my agility as the lack of it was a huge factor in my defeat before. The stories the little kids in town made about me always left a smile on my face. Some said I trained with deadly, man-sized scorpions, dodging pincers and stingers. Others say I go diving deep in the ocean without any oxygen and grab scallops, eating them shell and all. I don’t mind the kids, they are my driving force and I adore them. They look up to me and so I stay on top so I don’t let them down. I am their hometown hero and I will make them proud.
Mar 12
cmhemingwa's picture

Status and Silence

Petticoats upon petticoats are lifted over me and settled on my delicate hips. It’s a surprise that I don’t snap like a twig from the weight of them. An even bigger surprise is how I don’t suffocate or have my ribs shattered from the constricting nature of the corset. Praise the merciful lord that it is cold today or heat stroke would be added onto my list of concerns and grievances as the yards of fabric suffocate my petite frame. My beloved nanny hustles me out the door quickly so I don’t miss the brunch with my parents and fiance. I was lucky enough to not only marry up, as I was supposed to, I also avoided marrying my cousin. I wasn’t lucky enough however to marry someone I loved, but that is impossible anyway. I have never held any fancy for anyone and as I grew from a little girl into a woman, that never changed. My soon to be husband knew this of course, it was the reason why he asked for my hand in marriage without my parents’ prompting.
Mar 12
cmhemingwa's picture

The Mask that is Adrian Cole

I feel like I was particularly mature when I went by the name of Adrian Cole. Of course I would since it was the name on my fake ID. Living alone I needed a cover story to show that I was the adult age of 18 instead of the 16 year old child I actually was. I’ve had suspicious looks thrown my way and I’ve had neighbors call the police and report me as a runaway, which I was but this is besides the point. That name gave me a power that I didn’t possess on my own and I drunk on it. My true self is young, wimpy, and fragile but Adrian Cole is older, popular and strong. If the truth ever leaked, I would be sent to a boy’s home faster than I could even blink. I haven’t even told my friends, well Adrian’s friends. I am nothing while Adrian is everything. The illusion of Adrian keeps me supported while my own true self crumbles away. I am becoming Adrian piece by piece and I am scared. He is better than me in practically every way, but I don’t want my true self to disappear.
Mar 12
cmhemingwa's picture

Gentle Ribbon

“Come with me a moment.” he said. With worn down palms facing the sapphire sky, he offered me an escape. I was pinned between the rough brick wall of the brothel I worked at and the man who was my once lover. Oh how I was a fool to let him into my life and bed. “The leech of living” my friends and coworkers dubbed him. He visited me every night and any chance he had to break down the little confidence I held, he took it. The Mistress never chased him away since he payed and money was the only thing she cared for. Years of constant sorrow tormented me until I was able to break free from his soul sucking grip. I lied and told the Mistress that he refused to pay and she swiftly banned him for the establishment to my grand delight. Unfortunately, he was able to trap me while I was leaving for a simple food run and cornered me in an alleyway where no one would help me, or so I believed.
Mar 12
cmhemingwa's picture

Ignatius Zachary

Every spring, I visited my girlfriend until the year I met Ignatius Zachary. My girlfriend lived down in Mexico for a certain charity job, she never really told me about it. She claimed it wasn’t important and while that was strange, I never questioned it. I loved and trusted her so I didn’t pry. I could only go down once a year because money issues and springtime was when she had time off. One year on the plane ride down, I met Ignatius Zachary. He sat next to me, which was strange as I was told no one was in that seat. He was friendly enough and we had a nice conversation despite my crippling social anxiety. The only strange things he said was when he told me where not to go or what not to do. I decided to listen to his directions while I was visiting since I assumed he knew what he was talking about. While following his directions my girlfriend became more and more enraged. She was normally a very sweet and kind girl so it was a shock to see her in such a state.
Mar 12
cmhemingwa's picture

A Real Lady

A real lady, that’s what I would call her. She was called many other things, most of which were degrading. A real lady she was rarely called, I was really the only one to do it, but to her it was water off a duck’s back. Her long, smooth legs glide across the ground and her ivory face tilted towards the sky, never really caring about what others think of her. Her raven locks fly behind her back as she makes her way through life the way she wants. People will shout, throw things and try to get under her baby soft skin, but her prettily painted fingers will always just wave them away dismissively. She lost many friends and family members on her journey, but she will never lose me. I was not her protector, as she did not need one, but I was her supporter. When her crimson smile began to wilt I revived it with one simple phrase, “You are my real lady”. It never failed to make her bloom.
Mar 12
cmhemingwa's picture

Delanore's Crows


To the others I seem crazy. I don’t have much, barely scraping by in this soul sucking place our damned souls call home, but what leftovers I have, I give to the crows. To them my gifts are not overlooked as being to little, to them it is food and they are grateful. Because of their gratitude, I show mine when they bring me gifts of their own. Pebbles, stolen gems, bones, buttons and scrap metal are all placed neatly on my lawn. I keep all of my gifts, it would be rude not to. I treasure the trinkets that are given to me as if they are priceless, and to me they are. I love my gifts and I love the crows. They are like the family I never had, bringing me warmth and light from even the sight of their pitch feathers. I’m ashamed to say but I have a favorite. His obsidian eyes have the shine of crimson when he turns in the blazing sun. I would never call him mine, he is far too intelligent to be held down by ownership, even if only in spoken word alone.
Mar 12
Woolg's picture

HURRICANE

The rumbling was starting to get to me. The sound of the trees falling and the house that I've grown up in for these past 14 years, crumbling beneath our feet.
“To the basement!” barked my mom.
“What? Why-” I started.
“NOW,” my mom said with building fury.
I ran upstairs and grabbed my favorite blanket.
“Avery!” my mom yelled up the stairs. “We don’t have time for this right now. Go to the basement, NOW!”
I realized that this wasn’t any type of joke. This. Was. Real.
“Honey? Come down please,” my mom said with a worried voice.
I snapped out of my daze, grabbed everything I could and, being careful to not drop anything, sprinted downstairs to the embrace of my mom. My mom and my little brother followed me down the stair to the so-called, “Hurricane Hangout.” When we got inside, my mom locked the steel door, making sure it wouldn’t open to keep us safe for the span of the many, many hours ahead of us.
Mar 12
fiction 0 comments challenge: Pal

Finding my Place- Featuring Ellie

I hate to admit it, but I had an imaginary friend.  She’s really amazing and still quite special to me. She helped me get through the rough patches of my life.  Her name is Ellie. When I was in third grade, the term “popular” started becoming a reality for me. Kids just randomly became popular in my class.  Unfortunately, that never happened to me. I didn’t have that many friends. I knew why I wasn’t popular: I wasn’t in the top five smartest kids list, and I wasn’t as pretty as some of the other girls.  One day, I was just swinging on one of the swings, alone, as usual, when I heard a voice. “You look lonely,” the voice said. I looked up to see a girl standing in front of me, hands behind her back. She smiled sweetly, and her pearly white teeth almost gleamed.  “Hi.” She waved at me. “I’m Ellie, your imaginary friend. The person you want to be.” My jaw dropped. “How…?” “Oh, it’s very possible.” It was almost if she’d read my mind.
Mar 11

Peter Pan

September 5th, 2018
    I wake up early in the morning and glance over toward the clock, whose blue light shines onto the wall like something in an alien world, apparently, I was only asleep for a few hours, it’s 7:49 a.m. I slump out of bed and slink right over to the shower, then strip down for the huge crowd of toiletries in the bathroom and hop into the tub as soon as the water gets as hot as possible, because the Lord knows I am not hot enough alone.
    I really indulge every time I take a shower because I never want it to end. It’s not that I really enjoy the shower. It’s that I just can’t stand that feeling of stepping out of a hot shower into that cold morning air. Still, I figure just like anything else, there’s always a painful aspect to it.
    “Charlotte?” my mom hollers out from downstairs.
    “Yes, Mother?”
    “Come on, it’s time to go! You’re going to  be late!”
Mar 11
fiction 0 comments challenge: Pal
jessie.p's picture

New Friend

I applied for the job of Hailey's imaginary friend. She just turned three, and is feeling a little lonely without a friend. I can be her new friend. 
I scored an interview for the job of Hailey's imaginary friend. I'm good with kids, and good at hiding from parents. I should be her new friend. 
I got hired as Hailey's new imaginary friend. We make sheet forts, and have tea parties together. I am her new friend.
 
Mar 10
Dan's picture

Rainy Day

Rain poured down from the sky like a waterfall. Thick, dark clouds covered up the sun so it was almost pitch black. A girl and her cat where cuddled up next to a warm, crackling fire. She was a plump red headed girl that slightly resembled a strawberry. Her cat was a skinny brown thing with tangled long fur. Thunder pounded outside, it was the only thing keeping them awake. Her eyes felt heavy. But suddenly she felt warm sunshine caress her cheek. The girl sat up and looked outside. The rain had stopped and sun was making everything sparkle. A smile grew on her face and she ran to get ready. She grabbed her yellow boots and pulled them on her tiny feet. The cat followed her. They were almost ready to leave, but now there was a problem. They both looked outside in sadness. Rain poured outside like a waterfall. Thick, dark clouds covered up the sun so it was almost pitch black.
 
Mar 09
Peter Gustafson's picture

Fiction


Holden Struck  age 12

Essex Junction  ADL School
YWP contest #23   Cat photo
The day my cat talked
Mar 08

Crash and Burn

    Violent winds batter the house and heavy rain slams down, sounding more like bullets than simple drops of water. The family that lives in the house is down in the basement, listening to the loud wind and rain pounding against the house in merciless, continuous bouts. The family was safe, but the house was not built quite strong enough to withstand the full strength of the hurricane. It seemed that the walls of the house were only moments away from being torn down. The mother and father of the two children in the family had a fairly tense relationship, not at all on divorcing terms, but not on very good marital terms either. They seemed to argue a lot, but only when the children weren’t around. They weren’t going to subject the children to their anger just because they were having a difficult time in their marriage. It wasn’t anything a marriage counselor couldn’t fix, but the couple was determined to work it out on their own before they reached out for help.
Mar 08
fiction 0 comments challenge: Woods
Jen L.'s picture

The Talking Woods

Have you heard of the place called The Talking Woods? It’s a very mystical place. People say the trees in those woods talk. Some are mean, some are nice; it all depends on what type of tree it is. The first person who ever went there and noticed it was a child. Here is his story.

    One day James was playing by the woods when he heard someone shout,

“Watch it or you’ll snap one of my branches off! And that doesn’t feel too pleasant.” James jumped back. He had no clue who said that and he couldn’t see anybody for miles. The voice was kind of hollow, like it was vibrating through a pipe. It sounded in the middle of squeaky and deep.

“I’m over here,” shouts the voice again. It came from behind James, so he turned around but only saw the woods. Then he noticed a face in one of the pine trees, or at least it looked like a face. It was staring at him and he was staring back.