Cierra Lynn

“Wicked Game” by Cierra Lynn

The yearning for you was what was killing me. The yearning for you and not even being able to tell you. God, how it would ruin your perfect world. I’m trying to be good. I’m trying to be a good person. But my mind will not stop. No matter what I do. It refuses to stop. I’m so tired. My eyelids are severely heavy, I crack the window, light the incense, inhale the smoke, and try to cleanse myself of it all. I notice it’s raining outside, lightly, as dusk approaches a cloud-covered world. It’s that fresh smell only summer rain has ever had...

0 likes 0 comments 0

Read story

“Do You Remember? and I Miss You.” by Cierra Lynn

Submitted to Contest #212

Dear Sarah M., I don't find this world too amusing anymore. This morning I awoke to thoughts of grandeur snuffed by circumstance and cat hair up my nose. We used to be children. Do you remember that? Not long ago we were both just tots falling down playing tag and getting grass stains on our knees. Now I'm on the cusp of adultness, but I'm not adapting as I should. I find myself crying in the bathroom at work. And then disassociate from reality when I get to the car on the drive home, unsure completely of how I got there. I feel the empty su...

7 likes 2 comments 2

Read story

“Kindling” by Cierra Lynn

Submitted to Contest #205

Sensitive Content Warning: Self-Harm, Substance Abuse The first thing you need to know is that there's no one around. I've been told that my disposition is that of someone who is not entirely there. Oddly, I must agree with that sentiment. It must drive people away when they look into my eyes and they can acknowledge I can hear them but it's somehow still clear I do not want to be where I am at all. I can put on the most juvenile, sunshine smile to try and ease everyone but the smart ones, the people who matter, always see right through it...

13 likes 0 comments 0

Read story

“Apathetic Girl” by Cierra Lynn

Apathetic Girl. That's what her English teacher had called her in the seventh grade.  It was to allude to her demeanor. It was a harmless joke, but it forever changed how she knew people thought when they looked at her. Apathetic Girl. That is what she presented as. Her real name had no meaning to her anymore. She was an Apathetic Girl now. Ancillary, background dry-pan comic relief. The name of a last-minute character in a movie script. Apathetic Girl. The description echoed around the back of her brain. And from time to time she heard...

0 likes 0 comments 0

Read story

“The Best Seats In The House” by Cierra Lynn

Submitted to Contest #147

“Should I get up? Should I say something?”Eric whispered in my general direction from the seat to my left, “No, no, I’m sure it’s fine,”Julia answered from my right, forever not wanting to make a fuss about anything, “The credits have been over for like…5 minutes now, the movie for like 20, so?” Eric complained not bothering to whisper anymore. The theater was pitch black all around, soundless without a movie playing, and blind without the theater screen or any lights on inside of the giant room.  “Just give it a minute I’m sure some...

17 likes 1 comment 1

Read story

“Smokes” by Cierra Lynn

Submitted to Contest #136

Long ago the sun had set. The orange rock and sand landscape was no longer illuminated by the sin-burning yellow-white of sun. It was dark in the desert, an anticipation hung in the air. The landscape was now blue and purple, and much more mysterious and sinister. There is a man, he walks with his hips, he walks forward, under a red rock arch, underneath the clear star-studded satin of the night sky. He has an outline of a face, a sharp jaw, stubble a day or two old. But as for the rest of his face…no one can quite say. Maybe it was the brim...

9 likes 0 comments 0

Read story