Vote For Your Favorite Story! (Poll)

Poll will remain open until 12:00am Sunday.

 

 

Advertisements

Friday Fun (A Story Prompt Challenge #6)

 

 

Using this image, write a story in 25 words or less .

Post your story in the comment section below. The one with the MOST LIKES will be featured in a future post.

Challenge will remain open until 11:59pm Monday.

Have fun! 🙂

 

In hope of garnering more readers for the stories, I’ve opened them up to voting which can be found here.  Be sure to spread the word!

Story Saturday: Something in the Fog

Photo Credit: Pixabay Free Images

This story is taken from the prompt created by Liam J Cross Writing & Editing:

There is a lot to learn from inquisitiveness. And as you look through the binoculars, you find out just how much.

***

It was just a stupid dare.

I was visiting a friend who lived near the coast.  Crissy.  We hadn’t seen each other since high school.  I was on break from college, and she had a day off from work.

We were on our way to town when she took a detour out in the middle of nowhere.

“Hey, where are we going?” I asked.

“There’s someplace I want to show you first.” She said.

And pulled off the graveled road.  All I saw was this open grassy meadow only I couldn’t see very far as it was covered in this heavy fog.  In the distance I could hear a low roar.

“Is that the ocean I hear?” I asked.

“Yep.” Crissy replied.

“So, why are we here?”

“There’s this local urban legend about this place.” She said.

Oh, great.  She hadn’t changed much at all since high school.

“Crissy, I don’t want to do this.” I remembered all too well the last time she did this to me.

“No worries, Bec.  I promise you won’t end up in the ER this time.” She smiled.

I rolled my eyes at her, and then let out a loud sigh.  “I give up. What’s this local urban legend?”

“Some years ago, twenty I think, police picked up a man roaming this field.” She began. “He was shoeless, and mumbling about a girl haunting him.  After further prodding, the police learned that a year prior this man had kidnapped a girl, raped and then killed her, and dumped her body into the ocean nearby.  He claimed that every night since she would climb up out of the ocean, and go after him in his dreams.  He returned to look for her body, but couldn’t find it.  He begged the police to help.”

Crissy paused, and looked over at me.

“Did the police help him?”

“Yes, they called in a crime unit to search up and down the coast, but they never found a body.”

“And what happened to the man?”

“The police had him committed to a psyche ward.” Crissy said. “He died a few months later. He was found in bed, strangled to death.”

“Creepy.” I said.

“Yeah.  They say that if you come to this place on a foggy day, and look towards the ocean, you may see a girl climb up from the ledge, and then disappear in to the fog.”

“Oh?”

“Here.” She handed me a pair of binoculars. “I dare you to look.”

“This is crazy, Cris.”

“I double dare you.” She said with a grin.

I yanked the item from her hands. “For the record, I didn’t want to do this.”

“Be a good sport.” She said.

“Whatever.” I muttered and looked through the binoculars.  All I saw was this thick white mist, and nothing beyond. “I can’t see a thing.  Now, can we go?”

“You didn’t even really try.” She said. “Scared you’ll actually see something?”

“No, just bored.”

“Try harder.”

This damn girl…if she wasn’t a friend…

“I hate you.” I said, and stormed away and out in to the meadow.

I walked until I was completely enveloped in the mist.  The roaring now much louder.  I dared not to venture any further for fear of falling off the ledge.

Crissy loved doing these sort of things to friends.  She get off on them mostly by our reactions.   Being the only child, I’m sure she did these kinds of stuff for attention since her parents rarely paid any to her.

I took a deep breath, and looked through the binoculars once more.

This time the fog diminished just before the drop off to the expansive ocean where the rolling gray water spread as far as the eyes could see until it met the sky.

I saw nothing else.

Yet, I couldn’t remove the binoculars from my eyes as I continued to stare out towards the horizon.  Morbid curiosity pulsed through me as I remained rooted to the spot.

I closed my eyes for a moment.

One more look and then I’ll head back to the car.

Opening my eyes, I scanned the view ahead.

Oh, crap.

A pair of dirtied hands appeared on the ledge, grasping at grass and dirt.

Something in the Fog photo-1503925802536-c9451dcd87b5

Photo Credit: unsplash.com

 

My god…oh my god…

My hands shook as the binoculars shuttered on my face and the view blurred.

No, I don’t want to see her face.

I spun around and jogged back to the car.  Crissy sat on top of the hood. I could see a smirk forming on her mouth.

“See something?”

I shove the binoculars at her. “Yeah. Now it’s time to go.”

 

 

 

Monday Memoir: An Eccentric Outsider

 

I was almost six years old when I was diagnosed with nerve deafness.  I received my first behind-the-ear hearing aid shortly after the initial visit with Ms. Audrey.   The device helped as I was finally able to hear the sounds around me more clearly.  I could finally hear myself talk as well as whoever was trying to talk to me.

I was now able to understand and learn in school.

It certainly was not a “cure-all” as I was still very much a loner.  An outsider.

I spent the next two or three years attending speech therapy at a distant school.  About twice a week, a transportation vehicle would come and pick me up at the tiny private school I attended, and took me fifteen miles away to a moderate size elementary public school where I met with my speech therapist for our one-hour sessions.   Then I would board a public school bus with kids I didn’t know which took me home.

The speech therapy sessions helped, but I still spoke funny.

My accent was odd.  Out-of-place.

People, kids looked at me with strange expressions.

I felt very much alone most of the time.

Imaginary friends helped me through this period, as they would throughout my life.  Even as an adult, I still have imaginary friends.

Does that make me strange?

An outsider who’s not quite all there?

Hmm…yeah, I guess so.

And you know the funny part about all this?

I’m fine with it.  Totally and completely.

Why?

Because I have an excuse to be strange and odd, and what’s that word that a coworker once used to describe me?

Eccentric.

However, by the time I was eleven I’d developed a slight problem with having imaginary friends.   I started to act out some of the things they wanted me to do or where they wanted me to go.

Adventures in other lands.  Or, more like misadventures.

Like this one time when I was playing with my various superhero friends when one of them convinced me that I was Wonder Woman and could leap over a line of six chairs.   I almost cleared them all.  I ended up straddling a rocking chair and spent that evening in the ER.

When I was eleven my best friend was Melanie.  She was a red-head with a fiery temper.  I can’t remember what sparked the idea but she put out a challenge to see who could write the best short story.  I took the challenge and wrote a story about a haunted house where a girl went in to explore and found a decapitated head in the fridge.  Pretty morbid, but this particular challenge altered my life forever.

That day I learned there were other ways of participating in adventures with my imaginary friends; not to mention, much safer.

I didn’t know it at the time, but the writer within me was born.

Story Saturday: The Extinction Event

Photo Credit: Pixabay Free Images

I recently came across a prompt put out by Liam J Cross Writing and Editing:

A rocket ship to outer space. A mission to save the world. Or so they thought…

It was way too intriguing NOT to write a story for this!

 

The Extinction Event

 

 He watched as the white smoke trailed behind the first rocket as it zoomed up towards space.  For months, it was advertised, preached, and listed as “man’s greatest hope for survival,” but he knew the truth.

By agreeing to send “them” any and all offspring for research and food, they basically secured mankind’s doom.  It was only a matter of time before the public found out, and what would happen then?

Again, he knew.

Chaos.  Total anarchy.  And then what would “theydo?

No matter what, annihilation was certain for them all.

WEP – The Crossroad

Click on image to go to WEP original site

 

Here’s my entry for this Challenge:

 

The Crossroad

 

 

I believe each of us come to a crossroad at some point in life, And at that junction, each must make a decision as to which road to take.

The chosen path would set the tone for how well you’ll live your life.

Or, how poorly.

I came to such crossroad at the age of twenty-five as I sat on the bathroom floor, leaning against the toilet, with an opened medicinal bottle in hand, its content mostly emptied.

How did I get to this point?

I experienced death time and time again.  Not personally, but through people whom I cared a great deal about.

A cousin whom I considered a best friend, one who truly understood me for me.  We were born a month apart. He never treated me differently even with my hearing impairment as he was dealing with a far greater condition. Over time his body atrophied, and death paid a visit just before our fourteenth birthdays.

A grandmother, also a surrogate mother, whom I spent much of childhood with, her lungs were too weak, as my last memories were of her sitting in a chair, next to an oxygen tank, fighting for every breath.   She left this world just as I turned seventeen.

Then came the man whom I married.  His face was like an angel whose sweet disposition drew people to him.  Instead of being his help-mate, I offered only cruelty.

I could blame my behavior to recently receiving a diagnosis that I was going blind.

Also to resentment.  Anger.  Even immaturity.

But, those were just excuses.  Cop outs.

When on that fateful day, an unmarked car pulled in to the driveway, something within me sunk, and a dark void entered.

And I knew he’d gone on, and was now truly an angel.

Remorse and regrets raged as they tore my heart to pieces.  Pieces I felt could never be put back together again.

So, there I was, sitting on the floor, staring into the toilet bowl.

I was at my crossroad. 

The house was quiet.  Everyone’s asleep.  I dared not wake them.  They’ve already suffered enough.

Such stupidity!  The ultimate act of selfishness on my part.

I stood up, set the now closed bottle on the back of the toilet, and went up to our… my bed.

And lied down.

If I should wake in the morning, I promised to be a different person.

 

*Author’s Note:  Although this Challenge was geared more towards fictional pieces, I felt I had to write my story since its title spoke to me.  I’ve never shared this particular incidence in public before, and it was difficult to find the right words.  Perhaps in time the words will flow more freely.

 

 

Friday Fun (A Story Prompt Challenge #3)

 

 

Welcome to our first story prompt for April!

Since this is an one-line story, there is no limit on the word count; however, be creative and use your words and punctuation wisely.

Post your stories in the comment section below.  The story with the most LIKES will be featured in a future post!  Deadline will be 11:59 pm EST Monday.

Enjoy!