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Amanda Blackwood

Author on Reedsy Prompts since May, 2020

Stories (19)

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7 Followers

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19 Stories

214 karma pts

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Don't I Know You?

Amanda Blackwood

The road curved into a sun-baked gulch, lined on both sides by ragged hills that funneled the wind into a moaning whistle. Hep trudged ahead, the reins in one hand, a pistol in the other. Lily stayed a few paces behind, scanning the ridgelines, her boots dragging through loose gravel. The horse limped, still not recovered from the last sprint, its ribs visible beneath its coat.They hadn’t seen a building in miles. Just brittle trees, old signage half-swallowed by sand, and silence. It felt like the Earth itself had exhaled a final breath and...

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The Crows Are Watching Us

Amanda Blackwood

They sat near the window, though the light barely seeped through the layers of bible-thin pages pasted against the glass. The crows had quieted now—mostly. A distant rasp of feathers and the occasional kraah pierced the stillness like warning bells. Lily could tell the rain had passed, but something heavier had settled over the land. Something that didn’t wash away.Hep sat hunched over a dented tin of peaches, sipping the syrup like it was brandy. The knife he’d used to open it sat idle on the table between them, its tip stained. His fingers...

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Someone Planned to Live

Amanda Blackwood

The sound that woke Lily wasn’t thunder or the groaning of the old church walls—it was the raucous, sharp cawing of crows. At first it twisted into her dream, part of the ruins she stumbled through in her sleep, but the noise sharpened, grew louder, until it became impossible to ignore.She sat bolt upright on the pew, her hand immediately going to the knife at her belt.Hep stirred nearby, muttering under his breath, half-dreaming still. The horse, sleepy and slack-jawed just moments ago, tossed its head nervously, snorting at the air.“They’r...

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Renaissance Pose

Amanda Blackwood

Lily stirred in the pale light filtering through the cracked storm shelter hatch and blinked against the haze of sleep. Her back ached from the concrete floor, her arm was completely numb from where it had served as a makeshift pillow, and her throat was dry from the still air below ground. She sat up slowly, rubbing her eyes with the heel of her palm. Hep was already awake, sitting cross-legged near the door with his back straight and his hands resting on his knees like some patient old monk waiting for the world to start again. “You been u...

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The Invisible Weight

Amanda Blackwood

Submitted to Contest #298

They lay on the cold concrete floor, shoulder to shoulder, a single candle burning down between them. The flicker of the flame danced across the low ceiling, casting long, tired shadows. The air was still—almost too still—and the silence pressed down heavy, broken only by the occasional creak of the shelter settling or the quiet rustle of fabric as one of them shifted, searching for a slightly more forgiving patch of floor. “Are you asleep?” Lily whispered. Hep let out a soft snort. “Do I look asleep?” “No. You look like someone trying reall...

12 likes

Tell Me Why, Hep.

Amanda Blackwood

Submitted to Contest #293

The wind howled like a wounded animal, rattling the rusted-out shell of the old VW Beetle as Lily and Hep huddled inside. The storm had come back with a vengeance, the sky splitting open with jagged bolts of lightning that illuminated the ruined landscape in ghostly flashes. About the time they climbed inside the old car the sky split open and hail the size of marbles pelted the metal roof, creating an unbearable cacophony, each impact sending vibrations through their bones. Lily was shivering, though she wasn’t sure if it was from the cold ...

14 likes

The Past Can Speak To Me

Amanda Blackwood

Hep moved through the crawl space beneath the house like a ghost in the night. The damp earth clung to his elbows and knees, the scent of mold and decay thick in the narrow confines. Every movement had to be calculated; even the slightest shift could send a creak through the fragile floorboards above. He could hear the men inside, their boots thudding against the wood, their voices thick with anger and confusion. "She couldn't have gotten far!" one of them barked. "Find her!" Hep smirked to himself. Let them search in the wrong direction. He...

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The World Burns, Deserving or Not

Amanda Blackwood

Pain laced through Lily’s ribs as she struggled against the ropes binding her wrists to the chair. The storm outside had worsened, rain pelting against the wooden walls with relentless force. Every crack of lightning illuminated the shadows that lurked in the corners, making her feel as if unseen eyes were watching, waiting. But the only eyes she feared now were those of the men standing over her, their expressions a mixture of impatience and frustration.She couldn’t tell if they were going to kill her or not. That uncertainty gnawed at her ...

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Broken That Easy

Amanda Blackwood

The wind howled outside, rattling the loose boards of the farmhouse like an animal trying to tear its way in. The rain had started as a whisper against the tin roof, but now it pounded in furious sheets, punctuated by cracks of lightning that illuminated the skeletal trees outside. The storm had arrived in full force, and Lily couldn’t shake the feeling that it wasn’t just the weather raging—something deeper, something more personal, was about to be torn open.She kept her breathing even, her body limp in the chair as the men rummaged through...

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The Storm Doesn't Need Permission

Amanda Blackwood

A deep rumble rolled through the sky, shaking the wooden walls of the house. Lily could feel it in her chest, like the earth itself was growling, warning her of what was to come. Wind screamed through the gaps in the boards, sending dust swirling through the air. The house creaked, its old bones protesting against the coming storm, against the things lurking within its walls.She didn’t move. Didn’t breathe too fast. Lily sat motionless, the rough rope biting into her wrists, her breathing controlled and measured. The air inside the hous...

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Ghosts Don't Whisper

Amanda Blackwood

The wind moaned through the cracks in the farmhouse walls, threading its way through the warped wooden boards like unseen fingers. Lily stood by the window, watching the darkness beyond, her arms crossed tightly over her chest.She should have been sleeping. Exhaustion clung to her bones like lead, but sleep had become an unpredictable companion—coming only when her body could no longer fight it off.Hep was curled in the corner, a shivering, pitiful shape under the threadbare blanket she had tossed him before retreating to the window. His bre...

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It's Not Kindness, It's Survival

Amanda Blackwood

Lily hesitated, the door open just wide enough for the man’s hollow frame to be framed against the gray, swirling world outside. He had already begun to retreat, his shoulders hunched against a wind that seemed to cut through more than just fabric. The words tumbled out of her mouth before she could stop them.“Wait,” she said, her voice catching. “I have tea.”The man stopped, turning back toward her, his face a mix of surprise and mistrust. His eyes flicked to the cracked mug in her hands, its rim chipped but still serviceable, then back to ...

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Beneath the Broken Sky

Amanda Blackwood

The world had ended long ago. At least, that’s what Lily told herself every morning when she opened her eyes to the thick, gray fog that hung in the air like a shroud. The days bled into each other now, indistinguishable from one another in their drudgery and silence. The streets, once filled with cars, laughter, and the hum of human life, now lay cracked and abandoned, overgrown with wild grasses and tangled vines. Buildings that had once been filled with warmth and purpose were now skeletal remains, their windows broken, their walls crumbl...

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The Eyes of a Child

Amanda Blackwood

Submitted to Contest #197

I walked out of the door to my temporary home in Scotland with nothing in my pockets but one cigarette and a lighter. I wouldn't need more than that, I figured. I didn't have more than that. I walked the short mile to an ancient graveyard where I sat on the church steps for an hour or two, praying somebody would find me and take me inside, to tell me I would be okay and that life was worth living. Tears were shed. They soaked into the beautiful red stone steps and disappeared into the cold. I wanted to do the same. Nobody came for me. ...

15 likes

Cross of Scotland

Amanda Blackwood

Submitted to Contest #154

WARNING: Sexual assault and human trafficking are mentioned throughout the body of this submission, as I am a REAL SURVIVOR of human trafficking. How many times have I been openly criticized for keeping that old cross? It was forged in 1811, created in Edinburgh, Scotland. It's the only remaining artifact I have that was ever given to me by the man who forced me into human trafficking. I can understand all too well why people would think I would want to get rid of such a momento, but it seems people are entirely too closed off when it come...

7 likes