Natalie Schmitt

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Nov, 2022

Stories (6)

6 Stories

115 karma pts

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“The Distorted Mirror and the Shield in My Head” by Natalie Schmitt

Submitted to Contest #180

TRIGGER WARNING: This story contains themes of suicide and mental health. This coin will determine if I live or die. I never thought it would get so bad, the endless rush of thoughts telling me, You’re a bad person. Nobody likes you. You’re revolting. Why would you think like that? I have bad thoughts, and they’re going to kill me. They chip away at the imagined shield in my head until the shield breaks and it all comes cascading in, and by then I feel it’s too late to turn around. I feel a pang of nervousness every ti...

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“"Remember When We Kissed?"” by Natalie Schmitt

Submitted to Contest #178

“Hey!” Charles called, drawing the word out, as a greeting from a person I hadn’t seen in a while. He extended his arm with a firm handshake. “How are you?” “You know, I’m alright,” I answered vaguely. Charles smelled like smoke mixed with the fresh bread and chestnuts sold on the streets. “How ‘bout you?” “Doing well,” he said, smiling. I wanted to smile when he did; he still had that effect on me. “That’s good. Wanna go get a drink?” “Sure.” We walked away down the street. To anyone else, it would’ve looked like a meeting of two...

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“Marie” by Natalie Schmitt

Submitted to Contest #177

Trigger Warning: Slight gore, blood. “You’re so difficult!” I screamed, the wind lashing my hair in front of my face. She yelled something back, but I couldn’t hear her over the violence of the wind. It surrounded us as if we were the only two people in the world, swirling around us in massive gusts, all directions, spinning like a top. It rushed through the leafless trees, stormed through the old bones of the faded red barn at the end of the cornfield. It was winter, and the corn was all gone, yellow and dead, old stalks smashed flat agai...

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“The Greed of the Rich” by Natalie Schmitt

Submitted to Contest #175

The city was falling apart. The people, the buildings, the ideals, everything. Ever since The War ended and the soldiers came home, everyone had been arguing. Those who were against The War were angry at the soldiers for fighting, and those who were for it were mad that they lost. It had seemed, around Chrismastime last year, that the tide was turning in our favor, but we got beat down again and never got back up. That was the same with many of the soldiers themselves; many had died and the others were changed. My uncle had been drafted. Bef...

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“The Memorial” by Natalie Schmitt

Submitted to Contest #174

“Hey,” someone’s soft, gruff voice said into my ear. “Hey,” it said again, a little louder this time. I was starting to wake up. I heard the clack-clack of the train on the rails, and a whistle, softened by the distance between my compartment and the front of the steam engine. I opened my eyes groggily. The noises of the train were starting to gradually slow. I had been on this train for almost 12 hours, but given what I had to do next, I wasn’t sure I was ready to get off it. I looked at the man sitting next to me. I had spoken to him at t...

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“I'll Be Home For Christmas” by Natalie Schmitt

Submitted to Contest #173

I walked along the crowded cobblestone city streets on the gloomy mid-afternoon of December 24, the day everyone was supposed to be happy, supposed to be excited, supposed to be a lot of things I was not. I had a sealed envelope in my hand. People smiled at me. They hadn’t read the papers close enough. I shoved my left hand, the one not holding the envelope, into the pocket of my capelet coat and walked faster. My breath blew out in front of me in a white fog as if I were a steam engine. My ears and nose were numb, and my eyes stung w...

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Author bio

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