Jillian Oakes

“Blackberry ” by Jillian Oakes

It was that hazy time between late night and early morning when you said it. The sentiment was clear, felt by thousands of highschool seniors in that period between December and June, yet uniquely you: “Everything is changing.” It felt as though you’d just realized it, which almost made me laugh. You were right, of course; you were always right, but we were thinking of different things. I didn't have the energy to explain why and you certainly didn’t have the patience to listen, so I just nodded. Two styrofoam cups sat in front of us, ting...

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“Extra-Ordinary” by Jillian Oakes

Submitted to Contest #105

Dear Diary, Why are heroes so destructive, and why is insurance so hard to get these days? I feel like the two are connected. Seriously though, it’s frustrating. While they fly around, smashing into buildings, throwing away bystanders' lives like worthless trash, the rest of us are left with physical and financial reminders of our average-ness. Yeah, I get it, Spectacular-Man. You can shoot lasers from your eyes and I can’t. Did you really have to slice my aunt’s car in half, though? Was that really necessary?  My mom suggested I start ...

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“"Are You Sure?"” by Jillian Oakes

Submitted to Contest #101

“Are you sure? You’re ready for this?”The cold autumn breeze slipped through my hands. Half of it was natural, the other an effect of my own manipulation. I twirled it between my fingers before redirecting the gust towards Lyla. She wrapped her body tighter in her thin yellow hoodie before she realized what I had done. She gave me a light shove. “You Environmentals. Can’t keep your magic contained.” She paused. “And yes, I’m sure. This duel was my idea, anyway. I’ve got to see it through eventually.” “Bold talk coming for the glori...

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“Spring Fling” by Jillian Oakes

Submitted to Contest #86

“You see, when the clovers start to pop up in our fields, that’s how we know the tulips should be sprouting soon...”She continued to explain the natural signs of the upcoming season, but my mind was elsewhere. I found my gaze fixed on the way her lips moved as she shared copious amounts of gardening knowledge, surely too much for one person to hold. Even from the back of the crowd, I could see specks of gold reflecting the late-March sunlight in her eyes. Heavy clouds hung above us, yet a perfect sliver of light squeezed through onto the dam...

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“Front Door Blues ” by Jillian Oakes

Submitted to Contest #81

Is he going to answer the fucking door?  The box of clothes in my arms grew heavier and heavier with each ring that echoed from his monotonous doorbell.  This wasn’t the first time I found myself on James’s doorstep, forgotten clothes in tow, waiting for him to open the door.  It was the fourth.  Each time, I would message him in advance to ensure his presence, and each time, I found myself in this exact situation, more and more tempted to just leave the box and all the memories attached on his porch.  But somet...

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“Old Hollywood Glamour ” by Jillian Oakes

Submitted to Contest #80

I felt the tie hanging from my neck tighten like a noose. It was nothing but a cruel trick in my head, but it was enough for me to reconsider my plan entirely. I paced the floor, back and forth, back and forth, constantly tugging at my tie until I ultimately yanked it off.  I have to come clean. I can’t keep living like this. Literally, the huge target on my back is becoming a bit too much. They got Bella first. I don’t want to be next. “Ramsey.” A call from one of the backstage managers brought me back to reality. “You’re on in 5....

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“Top Ten Reasons Why Rosemary Bart (Me) Should Not Die.” by Jillian Oakes

Submitted to Contest #74

1. My mom would cry.I’ve only seen my mom cry once in my life. I was sitting in the backseat of her old Honda Civic on the way back from my father’s funeral when I heard it. A sniffle. A wipe. A sigh. I was playing with a small Barbie doll that I had gotten from a fast food place earlier in the day. I reached against the restraint of my seatbelt to hand my mom the little doll to try and comfort her. She glanced away from the road and into the rear-view mirror to see me. I watched her face harden into an emotionless state and t...

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“True Crime” by Jillian Oakes

Submitted to Contest #70

Trink and I stood over the boy’s motionless body. My hands were stained crimson, Trink’s still pristine. He always had a knack for cleanliness.  “Dude, I- wh- what have we done?” The words had barely escaped my mouth when Trink grabbed me and wrapped me into an engulfing hug.  “It’s ok, it’s ok,” Trink reassured me. “We just- you- we got a little carried away. This wasn’t supposed to happen…” His words trailed off.  I started to speak before Trink squeezed me harder, sending me back into silence. “But it’s ok. I can- I can ...

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“Visitations” by Jillian Oakes

Submitted to Contest #51

(This is a continuation of my previous story Popsicle. You don’t have to read both but this story might make more sense with some context.) Over the years, contact between Jared and I became more consistent yet less personal. As we gained more unrestricted internet access, we were able to text, email, and video chat almost daily. I quickly realized how much harder it was to convey emotion through a screen. There was something so much more personal about mailing letters with cool coins we found, or anxiously riding in cramped cars for hours...

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“Popsicle” by Jillian Oakes

Submitted to Contest #50

The jagged plastic on the side of my popsicle sliced through the skin conjoining my lips, giving the sweet melted juice in my mouth a metallic twang.Jared had forgotten to pack scissors, so we tore open the plastic tubes with our teeth. I didn't do a very good job.I reached up and wiped away the blood, my hand still icy from the frozen treat. The difference in temperature startled me, as I had started to lose feeling in my hand.Jared reached into our cooler and pulled out a piece of ice surrounding the sack of popsicles and offered it to me....

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