Menu

Menu

Prompts

Contests

Stories

Blog

Directory

Contests

Magazine

FAQ

Courtney Hays

Author on Reedsy Prompts since May, 2025

Stories (19)

Comments

Library

2 Followers

0 Following

19 Stories

136 karma pts

?

The Dream That Remembered Me

Submitted to Contest #308

The first time the world bent sideways, Courtney thought it was exhaustion. The second time, she kept quiet about it. By the third, she had started to wonder if maybe the cracks in reality were invitations—not accidents.She hadn’t been sleeping well, and even when she did, she woke more tired than before. The kind of tired you can’t stretch out of your limbs. A bone-deep fatigue that whispered: You’ve left pieces of yourself behind. Somewhere.She didn’t mean to fall asleep that afternoon.She only meant to lie down. Just for a minute. Just un...

0 likes

The Hollow Beneath the Hill

The path was never straight. But neither was she.Courtney’s boots pressed into damp moss as she wandered deeper into the forest that shouldn’t exist—at least not here, not this close to town, not tucked behind a crumbling stone fence barely waist-high. But something in her ribcage had hummed like a compass needle caught on fate, and her feet had followed.She told herself it was just a walk. Just air. But the truth was this: she was unraveling. Again.Three missed calls from her mother. A tight-lipped supervisor expecting her to “get over it.”...

0 likes

The Crown in the Dirt

The sun kissed her cheeks like it had missed her.Courtney stepped out from the tangled brush, blinking into the morning glow. Her boots, caked in forest mud, sank slightly into the edge of the path. She could still feel the woods breathing behind her—still feel the weight of what she left buried beneath the ancient roots.In her hands, she held her crown. Crooked. Handmade. Unapologetically colorful. A little bent from the journey. A little brighter, somehow, too.It hadn’t sat on her head for days. Maybe weeks. Or maybe it never truly had. It...

0 likes

The Velvet Key Society

Everyone in town had a theory about the old greenhouse on the edge of Wrenwood.Some said it was cursed. Others said it was haunted. But the strangest theory came from a girl named Elowen—who insisted the vines grew backwards, that the flowers whispered names, and that if you walked by at midnight, the glass shimmered like it was remembering something.No one believed her. Except Luna.Because Luna knew something no one else did.She had been inside. The Velvet Key Society did not wear robes. There were no secret handshakes or dramatic Latin cha...

0 likes

The Girl Who Outgrew the Room

Submitted to Contest #307

The room was shrinking again.Not literally—not in the way wallpaper peels or ceilings crack. No, this was Wonderland logic. Emotional architecture. One of those days where the walls echoed back every version of “too much” she'd ever been handed.Luna sat cross-legged on the floor, chin in hand, heart doing its usual gymnastics.She used to be able to breathe in here.But now the air stuck to her ribs.The carpet muttered things like “calm down” and “why can’t you just be normal?” The window refused to open unless she asked nicely, and even then,...

0 likes

The Clockmaker’s Promise

The sun was still a shy glow on the horizon when Lila slipped through the wrought-iron gate of the old estate. The air was thick with moss and secrets, the scent of damp earth curling like smoke around the ancient stone walls. Vines, twisted and gnarled like the fingers of forgotten dreams, clung to the cracked marble statues scattered through the overgrown garden. Time felt soft here—like a wet cloth left in the rain—stretching and folding in on itself.Lila’s boots pressed carefully over the moss-covered stones, but her mind was a storm. Sh...

0 likes

The Keyhole in the Garden Wall

It began on a day that looked ordinary enough—one of those soft gray afternoons when the sky folds itself like a faded blanket, and the air smells faintly of wet earth and forgotten secrets. Mae was wandering through the old neighborhood park, a place she’d known all her life yet never really noticed. The park was the kind of space people walked through but rarely lingered in—a patch of green squeezed between cracked sidewalks and rows of tired houses. Nothing special, really. Except today, something whispered otherwise.Mae’s sneakers crunch...

0 likes

Recipe for a Magical Journey: Wonderland Stew

Submitted to Contest #306

Preparation Time: 20 minutes Cook Time: 1 hour, 30 minutes Total Time: 1 hour, 50 minutes Serves: 4-6 Wonderland wanderersIngredients:1 Cup of Curiosity (Best harvested in the garden of wonder, during the first signs of morning mist)3 Sprigs of Uncertainty (Pick while the wind is blowing east; they have a special taste when gathered in a rush)2 Large Thoughts of Doubt, peeled (Only the ripest doubts work best—those that have been hanging around for far too long)5 Lively Dreams, chopped (Be sure to use fresh dreams; those left on the shelf to...

1 like

Subject: Hey, Can We Talk?

From: Alice Williams alice@wonderland.com To: Grace Jenkins grace@wonderland.com Date: April 10, 2025, 10:05 AMHey Grace,I need to talk. Something’s been on my mind, and I’ve been going in circles trying to figure out the best way to bring it up. But it’s time, I guess. I’m just not sure what to say, but I think you’ll understand when I do.Could we chat later? I’d really appreciate it.AliceSubject: RE: Hey, Can We Talk?From: Grace Jenkins grace@wonderland.com To: Alice Williams alice@wonderland.com Date: April 10, 2025, 10:21 AMHey Alice,Of ...

0 likes

The Unwritten Journal of Alice: A Journey Through the Looking Glass

April 10thI don’t know what’s happening. I’ve never been one to keep a journal, but something feels different today. The air is thick with an energy I can’t quite describe, almost as if I’m teetering on the edge of something—something big. Perhaps it’s the way the world seems to be shifting, or how I find myself staring at things longer than I should, wondering if I really see them at all. Sometimes, I think I might be going mad. But then again, who isn’t?I’ve been walking through the garden, following the twists and turns of the hedges. I d...

0 likes

Through the Looking Glass

INT. LYLA'S ROOM - NIGHTThe room is filled with soft light from a desk lamp. Books, notebooks, and a half-eaten plate of cookies sit on the desk. LYLA, 13, sits cross-legged on her bed, staring at a book titled "The Key to Wonderland." Her eyes are wide, as if she's just read something unbelievable.LYLA (whispering) This can’t be real…She flips through the pages and suddenly stops at a large, folded piece of paper. It's a map, with an intricate maze-like design, glowing faintly in the dim light.LYLA (squinting) No way…She quickly scribbles d...

0 likes

The Last Words of the Mad Hatter

Submitted to Contest #306

The room was dimly lit by the soft, flickering light of dozens of candles. Their flames cast long, dancing shadows on the walls, and the air smelled faintly of lavender and burned wax. It was the kind of evening where the world felt both close and far away—a liminal space, suspended between the past and what was yet to come.At the far end of the room stood a podium, polished and glistening under the light. A large chair beside it sat empty for the moment, a quiet symbol of the vacancy soon to be filled. The crowd was restless, murmuring amon...

5 likes

Unshackled in Wonderland: Cynthia’s Escape from the 9-to-5 Maze

Submitted to Contest #305

You Know What? I Quit.The rain hit the office windows with the rhythm of exhaustion. Not a storm, not a cleansing downpour—just a relentless drizzle that clung to your mood like damp wool. Cynthia sat at her desk, staring blankly at her screen. The glow of the monitor highlighted the hollows under her eyes, casting soft shadows that deepened with every blink.Her inbox was full. Her to-do list had grown sentient and hostile. The break room smelled like stale coffee and crushed ambition.But today felt different. Something in her had been quiet...

4 likes

The Clockflower Deadline

In the eastern quadrant of Wonderland, where the sky spirals in loops and the clouds speak in Morse code, there bloomed a meadow unlike any other: the Field of Clockflowers. Here, time wasn’t just kept—it was grown. The petals of each flower ticked like gears, blooming to the rhythm of seconds, minutes, and hours. And it was here that Elvie, a neurotic paper-sorter with an obsession for order, found herself bound to an impossible task.The Queen of Hearts had issued a royal decree:"Reorganize the entire Wonderland Census of Nonsense before th...

0 likes

Courtalise Thorn and the Choice of Shadows

Submitted to Contest #303

The palace gardens, once lush with life and laughter, had become a haunted maze of twisted thorns and faded blooms. The grandeur that had once drawn visitors like moths to a flame had wilted into something darker, something broken. The vibrant colors were now muted—petals dulled to ash-gray, leaves curled and brittle beneath the oppressive weight of neglect. Even the sweet scent that once perfumed the air had turned sour, heavy with decay and forgotten promises.Courtalise Thorn moved silently among the curling vines and black roses, their th...

7 likes