Beth Jackson

Author on Reedsy Prompts since May, 2021

Stories (20)

20 Stories

1557 karma pts

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“Just” by Beth Jackson

Kat hovers on the threshold, one boot raised, and the meagre scraps of fabric she considers fashion, flapping against her thighs.“And stay out of my room. Don’t rifle through my shit or anything,” she says.I blink. Vulgar accusations from my flatmate aren’t uncommon, but still, it smarts when she throws such slander with gay abandon.“I shall do nothing of the sort,” I say.“Whatever.”She strides down the front steps, past the patch of flourishing dais...

16 comments 16
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“Staring at the Lawn Muffins” by Beth Jackson

CW: Swearing, a fat cat, drop-kick ex, some defecation, frogs...“I can’t take any more of this shit,” The Man says and walks out the door, slamming it behind him so hard the windows rattle and several of The Hellions begin to cry.The Lady gathers The Hellions into a pile, and they weep and wail, holding onto each other in a heaving heap of misery.While I don’t desire to exit as dramatically as The Man, I too cannot cope with the level of negative emotion in the room, and I flop off the...

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“A Hidden Story ” by Beth Jackson

A schoolboy crouched in the alleyway, his red-rimmed eyes wild and desperate in his swollen, puffy face. He darted forward as Edmund passed, hand outstretched, fingers brushing his heavy woolen coat.Edmund recoiled, snatching his briefcase out of the boy’s grasp. “Excuse me,” he said, his voice brimming with indignation and more shock than he cared to acknowledge.“Sir, can you give—”“Most certainly not,” Edmund said, and strode on, staring resolutely at the bus stop ahead.

17 comments 17
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“Self-Discovery ” by Beth Jackson

“We’re just too different,” I say, and shoot him. Point blank. One to the head. Bang.He collapses in on himself, folding and contorting into a crumpled heap of offal, leaching his blood onto the thirsty ground.I toss the gun on the grass beside him and jog through the summer flowers towards the trail down to the beach.#And here I am. Choking in the city. Assaulted by the cacophony of nighttime suburbia, scuttling through the light, creeping through the darkness. Stagg...

25 comments 25 SHORTLIST ⭐️
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“A Positive Contribution ” by Beth Jackson

Grace wiped a spot of blood off the table, smearing it back and forward with her index finger. She glanced at the clock under the security camera. Nearly lunchtime. One more to go. “Come in,” she called. Footsteps clomped in the hallway, and she nudged a glass of water towards the centre of the table. And then slightly to the left.One more. She could do this. “Ready, Doc?” a guard asked, pausing in the doorway.  He was gripping the shoulder ...

28 comments 28
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“Something Broken” by Beth Jackson

“Vince and Sal have invited us out on their yacht next weekend.” Ben glances at me before dropping his gaze to his phone.The lounge is cold. I sip my coffee and stare at the wilting pot plant in the corner. And the silence hangs over the casually thrown gauntlet.He coughs. “I’ll tell Vince no, then?”I grip my mug. He’s serious. Tiny ripples of horror radiate through the coffee.He waits for my answer as though he’d asked if we wanted to spend a weekend with our closest...

33 comments 33
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“Sweet, Savage Love” by Beth Jackson

“Go to hell, you saggy-faced frumpy old bag.”The words hit me, piercing the tender space between my chest and my heart. My daughter. Screaming at me. Rage puckering her acne ridden face, and her limp hair clinging to her scalp as she flicks it in defiance, stopping short of giving me the single middle finger.The door slams. I blink. My Cassie. Screaming at me. How the hell did we end up here?I walk into the kitchen and grip the bench, my knuckles white, heaving shaky breaths to fight o...

35 comments 35
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“The Time Cheat ” by Beth Jackson

“So, tell me why you’re here?”Len picked at a thread on the couch and avoided eye contact with the psychologist. Why was he there? Mostly because of his heartless, cheating, thieving monster of a wife, he supposed.Ex-wife.“Closure,” he said.The psychologist nodded, her face impassive behind her steel-rimmed glasses. She glanced down at her notes.“I see here you’re suffering some health issues?” she asked.Len shrugged. He was sixty-e...

22 comments 22
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“A Work in Progress” by Beth Jackson

“Nine, eight, five, three, three…”He reads the numbers, and my face burns. I stand at the edge of the hallway, somewhere by the swinging doors, and posters advocating Girls in Science. A group of teenage boys loiter by the pinboard.The first tests results are out. The scores printed next to the ID numbers. And there’s unrest amongst the troops.“Is it you, Troy?”“James?”“No, he didn’t finish.”“Cody? Surely, it’s not you?”<...

29 comments 29
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“The Resting Place” by Beth Jackson

CW: Mention of bloodA light flickers and I open my eyes. I’m nowhere. Drowning in white. I roll onto my knees and cough.Streetlamps stretch into the fog, and I stagger to my feet, stumbling towards the light. A man leans against the closest streetlamp, and I freeze. I look at his shoes.Boots. Heavy black boots, with scuffed toes and worn yellow stitching, frayed laces tied in a clumsy bow.The pressure in my chest eases, and I run towards him. He turns. His face is bla...

20 comments 20
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“A Perfect Lie” by Beth Jackson

She’s there. She’s always bloody there. In the driveway, with her white hotpants and pink oversized tee sloping off one shoulder at a jaunty angle.I slow to a jog and wipe my forehead. My face is hot. Probably red. And blotchy. Running doesn’t agree with me.I avoid eye contact as I turn into my driveway. She’s standing by the roses, secateurs primed, deciding which beauty she’ll castrate from the bush.Their garden is all straight edges and manicured lawns. Roses and dainty flowers jost...

57 comments 57
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“The Enduring Present” by Beth Jackson

“Why don’t you have a cup of tea?” Gina sounded weary, even over the phone. “You know, take a moment to relax.” Her voice leeched its warmth. “There’s no one after you, Matt.”“I’m driving.” Matt adjusted his grip on the steering wheel. “To your house.”Gina sighed. “Well, I’ll make one, then. Are you just leaving the farm? I’ll have it ready when you get here.”Matt glanced in the rearview mirror. Nothing. Just fingers of inky darkness stretching behind him.“Your doors ...

31 comments 31
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“Where You and I Meet” by Beth Jackson

CW: Domestic Violence“Why are you so chipper today?” Gill asks, brushing bleach on her client’s hair in short, efficient strokes.I smile at her matronly interest in my love life. And her ability to sniff out gossip. “Nothing.”“There’s something.” She raises an eyebrow.I sweep the hair on the floor into a pile, ignoring Gill’s piqued interest prickling on my back.“It’s possible I’m seeing someone.” He has a chiselled jaw and an office with a view of t...

27 comments 27
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“The Price of Life” by Beth Jackson

“It’s cancer.”Rose rested her phone on the kitchen bench and stared at Aiden standing in the entranceway, the raindrops on his jacket glinting in the light.“What’s cancer?” she asked. Her mind felt sluggish, fixated on the photo displayed on the screen.“The lump. Under my arm. It’s cancer.” Aiden ran his hands through his hair, sprinkling raindrops onto the ground.He stumbled into the kitchen and wrapped his arms around her, his shoulders heaving as he sobbed into her...

52 comments 52 SHORTLIST ⭐️
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“The Hallowed Ground” by Beth Jackson

“Karl told me about a playgroup in Maraetai. Why don’t you take her there?” My partner stares at me in the bathroom mirror.I look away, the unspoken words prickling. “They’re not really my cup of tea.”The baby stirs, sucking on her hand. She’ll need feeding soon.“How do you know? You’ve never been.”I watch my partner shaving, each pass exposing fresh, pink skin in a sea of white, and a stab of jealousy twists in my stomach.“They’re for older children...

129 comments 129 WINNER 🏆
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Author bio

Cat lover. Cake lover. Mother of four. Writer.

Winning 1 story 🏆

Contest #114
The Hallowed Ground – read story

Shortlisted 3 stories ⭐️

Contest #183
Self-Discovery – read story
Contest #116
The Price of Life – read story
Contest #109
Always Check the Dryer for Crayons – read story