Charly Woods

“Bailey's Lifeline” by Charly Woods

When you have to choose between your best friend or your family. Who would you pick? I didn’t think that today would be the day to hear the words I killed someone, coming from my best friend.I startle awake and sit up straight in my bed. Just a dream. But then I hear someone breathing loudly by my bedside. My hand searches for my phone on the nightstand. I almost drop it on the floor. I decide I don’t have time to turn on the flashlight. My heart gets stuck in my throat as I shine the light from my lock screen on the person’s face.“What the ...

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“Typos” by Charly Woods

//TW: drugs, mental health, mild violence, crime// 'How did we and up here?' Grace said, walking the woods on bare feet. This is all a dream,' Ben blurrily joked. 'Maybe we died in that museum and got here, back in time, 'Alpha said through the messy hair of her fringe. 'Surewe did,' Grace replied. Sarcastically. 10 HOURS EARLIER: 'the bus leav...

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“Ruby Blood Paint” by Charly Woods

Submitted to Contest #196

You know those dreams, where you think you wake up on the other side of your bed? And sometimes, actually do. And to make things worse, you had a fever dream. And to top things off, in the dream you’re accused of murder.You’ve heard people say, “When you’re dreaming, you’re actually seeing yourself in the multiverse” and strangely, you believe it.Maybe in another life, you killed someone.Maybe in another life, you are on the edge of being accused of it.Maybe in another life, you get away with it.-...

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“Christopher’s Tale” by Charly Woods

Submitted to Contest #189

I found this boy famished on the side of the road, with dirt smudges across his face. The boy looked like he was thirteen or maybe fifteen years of age.— He didn’t speak much. We rode the lonesome road and let the asphalt take its time. Fourteen minutes had passed. ‘Riley’ the boy stared ahead. ‘Is that your name?’ I asked with my deep voice.— He didn’t answer. I presumed Riley was the boy’s name. ‘J...

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“In the Pawnshop Somewhere on 7th Street” by Charly Woods

Submitted to Contest #176

---TW: Physical violence: mild--- In the bustling streets of a city I, unfortunately, called my home, I stumbled into an old shop. There were antiques behind glass, things I’d never seen before. I was somehow drawn to the shiny artifacts. One of the things that caught my eye, was a small box with bronze decorations on each corner. The sides were made of glass, and inside the box was what look...

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“the concept of happy” by Charly Woods

Submitted to Contest #170

“This is great! No, it’s perfect,” the autumn leaves on the street. And when I step on it, making this sweet crispy sound. Wonderful perfect sentences flew into my mind.“How can I do that when I have no plan? Words make no sense and sentences are confusing.”“But I don’t care. I care about the wind and the sea.” Not about living, I care about enjoying the little things. If I don’t, I might get washed away. Christmas trees and the look on your son’s face, are the little things. Yesterday I thought about that, and I cried while...

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“Midnight Murder Hotel” by Charly Woods

Submitted to Contest #165

The crackling of burning branches set the mood for a hazy trip down memory lane. At night, a forest held secrets that couldn’t be seen in the daylight. Makes you wonder if those things are real. But then again; the acts of the moon are mysterious. “Remember how we used to go to the arcade in the middle of the night just to watch the lights?” Ashley said. The group of girls was sitting on the ground, some were sit...

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“The Secret of the Lime-Blazer-Wearing Family Member” by Charly Woods

Submitted to Contest #163

[SENSITIVE CONTENT: Physical violence (not really described, only the idea of it)] --- ~No story is ever the same. And no tree has the same names carved into it. The silence was killing all of us. None of us had experienced this level of awkwardness. Glances were made, followed by the looks returning to the table, a glass, or anywhere other than someone’s eyes. Som...

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“In the Middle of Nowhere” by Charly Woods

Submitted to Contest #160

It was a quiet day in the middle of nowhere. The only sound that could be heard all around the dry land was a high whistle that lasted forever. And far into this cracks-in-the-ground-nothing-to-do-here place, there was a house; a farmhouse that looked like it was stuck in 1930. The steps leading up to the front door were rotten and the door itself had a small cracked glass residing in it. Wallpaper had a life of its own ...

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“Georgia” by Charly Woods

Submitted to Contest #149

Her name was Georgia, a beautiful girl with brown hair that touched her shoulders and a perfect smile. But I would’ve never been good enough for her. I was just that one person who spent too much time looking at pictures of her, wishing I was the same. She didn’t know I took pictures of her, even though my bedroom walls were plastered with her face. I followed Georgia around the halls of a school I didn’t even go to. She...

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“The Flow Of Time” by Charly Woods

Submitted to Contest #144

The shutter captured the house perfectly in the moment. Beautiful shadows of trees laid on brick walls. Windows, like an open soul, figured out the secret buried in the dark depths of a heart. Lighting in the house made the atmosphere warm and calm, like the people living in it could face anything. Like starting a family. A photo rolled out of the camera and the person took it inside. Where he wrote something on it and p...

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“Memories of the Lost Soul” by Charly Woods

Submitted to Contest #142

The sunlight came in through the thin curtains. Its orange warm beam fell on a stack of books in a room. A bedroom. Someone was waking up. There she is, Stacy Wildwood. Her brown shoulder-length hair looked golden in the sunlight. She sat up and wiped the sleep out of her eyes. Stacy took her place in the driver’s seat of a 4x4 truck. And saw something laying on the passenger’s seat. A book with a note on...

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“Escape The Stars” by Charly Woods

Submitted to Contest #141

“One star. Again.” I sighed and put a box of robot parts on the shelf. The screen hovered a second longer in front of my head, reminding me I’m not good enough. Then it disappeared. Somehow I always get one star, even though I really try. Is everyone against me? Is it because I’m below everyone, below all the pilots and the leaders? “Stop messing around, scrap kid. And fix this thing.” A tall figure was s...

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