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Author on Reedsy Prompts since Aug, 2020
This is a continuation. TW Substance and domestic abuse. Hours later, Eli finally returned home. Scraping together scraps of sobriety, he pushed open the wooden door. A familiar smell landed on his tongue, mingling in the air with his mother's passive humming. No matter how silent he wished his arrival to be, his mother always knew. “Elijah!” The only person that called Eli that name peeked through the doorway, Hispanic accent rich as it curled over the syllables in it, “Where have you been?” “Nathan’s, I told you this,” His mother’...
TW: nonconsensual groping, drinking, curse words. In an ideal world, I turn this into a novel one day, potentially this being the first chapter. While no one reads these I thought I would put this out here. Be warned this has some heavier themes as listed above.Thank you for reading as always. -Natalie. Sometimes, Elijah was intoxicated. He gripped the word ‘sometimes’ much like how he gripped the neck of a bottle: tightly. Alcohol suspended him in a cloud of deniability where he existed under the guise that he had everything under contro...
Hart Winslow had always resented her father. She felt as if the distance between them spanned larger than the thousands of kilometers separating New York City from Louisiana. This distance transcended universes, as one harbored peace and an adolescent woman, while the other crawled with rough beasts, daemon’s allegedly hell-bent on casting spells of misery on one sick individual. The first universe lost a member to the latter’s consumption of the dying mind of Theodore Winslow. Hart had watched this sickness consume her father from the insid...
Hey guys it's me. Yes, this was for last week's prompt but I guess this one works too. The last time I uploaded here I was fourteen...now I'm fifteen. Crazy. I stared at Colin with eyes full of wonder. “Master Bailey,” He croaked, relief and concern leaching into his voice, “you’re injured.” That’s what you’re worried about? I turned my head in a circle, a difficult feat, and surveyed the leveled prison around me. Rubble layered under flying particles of dust stretched out infinitely all around us in a muted grey. Pipes,...
Submitted to Contest #102
THIS IS A CONTINUATION OF MY PREVIOUS STORY. Read the other if you want I don't care :) There the sun was, a blot of rose gold and amber peeking between the mountains on the eastern horizon. In a cancer of light and warmth, spreading like thick paint to the surrounding sky, the morning came. Tommy hated it. The sunrise to him was nothing more than a reminder. The reminder of the passage of time, the ticking timer of one month set on his and Toby’s lives. Why? Tommy could hear Toby’s echoed question in the back of his sku...
Submitted to Contest #96
Toby wondered why, when he showed up on her doorstep drenched in a crimson liquid and shivering from the coldness of his own heart, what caused her to take him in. He hadn’t even said anything, scared of what would escape if he opened his mouth, maybe a scream he had been swallowing, it’s acidic taste burning the back of his throat. All he could do was stare. He was sure his eyes must have been black and cold, his mouth stuck in a permanent sickening sneer, his pale face reflecting the color of a corpse...but none of this compared to what he...
Submitted to Contest #95
Willa emerges into a hallway with two doors, she enters the door on her right. That was the moment I simply came to be, and as far as I knew, the moment everything else did as well. What are you waiting for? She enters the door on her right. Blink, breathe, hand twitch, wet lip. Actions, movements, things that I was doing, me. Willa. The door on her right, Willa enters it. What? What was happening? Door? There was a door, in fact there were two. Plain wooden ones with white trim frami...
Submitted to Contest #94
Run. Adrenaline roared through my veins like a raging tide. It was not unlike the one whistling in my ears, exploding in my chest, and not unlike the one I could feel in my fingertips, static like a tense wire one that could break any second, one that could bend, one that could crack one that could- "Stop," I hissed at myself. I was always on thin ice, the ice was the only thing protecting me from the deathly substance below. My control faltered at the reminder, causing me to trip. The fall tore me from my worries and brought me ...
Submitted to Contest #90
CN: poaching Snow, the fine powder falling like microscopic feathers drifting in a slow horizontal pattern. The only disturbance in the spotted whiteness on the concrete path being footprints, Shelly's. She hurried across the zoo grounds, a backpack bouncing up and down on her shoulders. It was night, the only reason she could tell was the cold that was left in the absence of the sun. No stars were visible this deep in the city. The wet sound of water lapping against the concrete beach alerted her that she was here. Fingers pres...
Submitted to Contest #88
Bailey’s fingers, being the only part of him exposed to the outside, were the coldest part of his body. They were gripping the hood of his cloak and pulling it as far down as he could, hiding the rest of him from the fog settling over the forest like a bad omen. He liked the shadow the hood cast on his face, it hid him from unseen horrors that could be lurking around any corner, behind any tree... His pace sped up in response to the thought. With every step he was reminded of how long he had been walking. Wondering absently how far a...
They saw the cannon before they felt it. Then they felt it. It slammed into the ship driving straight into her skeleton. A groan echoed through the night joined with screams and the roar of the tide. The ship was taking on water, and quickly as the ocean tore at her sides, rushings its way into the vessel. It smelled the blood and fear that clotted the air, it smelled the weakness. The ocean was merciless. It rose up with tongues of water and seized hold of the damaged ship, like a snake after an injured bird....
Boom. “NO!” The twisted outcry of pure pain and horror that ripped through my throat was as loud as the blast. I knew what the sound was, my yell of anguish proved it, I just didn’t know if I was ready to accept it. 10 seconds, I thought, that was all I asked for, did you really fail us, Dylan? Dylan wouldn’t, right? I was about to find out. I burst into the cavern, eyes wild and searching, “DYLAN?” I heard a whimper and my eyes flashed to it; a maroon colored figure, limp and curled on the ground,...
Submitted to Contest #74
1 second. “Don’t do it, Ezra,” I whispered. I could feel a tear sliding silently down my left cheek, I watched out of the corner of my eye as it fell and shattered against the dust-coated floor. “I have to,” Ezra spoke in a chilling tone, it was unbalanced, yet balanced, insane, yet sane. I knew he wasn’t any of those things, he was floating somewhere in between. Even with his back to me, I could see that. “No, you don’t,” He really didn’t. He needed to understand, I needed to make him understand. 2 seconds. “They can’t...
Submitted to Contest #72
Humans were designed to be predictable. Designed: planned or conceived in detail or for a specific purpose. Predictable: Able to be predicted. Like a number sequence. Number sequence: a list of numbers that are linked by a rule. 2, 4, 6, 8... Designed, predictable, linked by a rule. And my personal favorite. 0, 1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 8, 13, 21, 34, 55... At first glance, the numbers look random, not designed, unpredictable, unlinked by a rule. If a human were to look closer, their intuition could detect a relation...
Submitted to Contest #71
It was cold, It didn’t take me very long to realize that. The feeling crept up the sleeves of my sweatshirt, spreading like a cancer. My body quivered back and forward in a shiver. Cold. I maximized the feeling, allowing it to spread. It settled into me, quite literally chilling me to my core. Every particle of my being could feel its effect. It’s cold, it’s cold, it’s cold, it’s cold. It wasn’t...painful, it was a sensation that I almost enjoyed. Cold reminded me of..calm, of slowness, of perfection, of the w...
Not dead, just a writer
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