Quinn Marie

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Sep, 2021

Stories (5)

5 Stories

11 karma pts

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“The Gift-Giver” by Quinn Marie

TW: Suicide, Death Thou shalt obtain a gift. Thou shall live with thy gift for all of thy life. Thy gift shall be thy destruction. These three laws have been in effect for all of history. At least, that's what we were told. Some unknown power has spoken to countless people throughout the ages, made the three laws known to them in their own languages. The Gift-Giver bestowed a gift upon every person on the day of their birth. Sometimes, the gifts wouldn't show themselves for years. Sometimes, they were only revealed on a person's death da...

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“Toxic Masculinity” by Quinn Marie

The sunlight hit his face as he bent over the coffee pot to pour himself a cup. He glanced up at me, smiled, and grabbed another coffee cup, my coffee cup. "Creamer," he asked, not looking up. "Sure," I said, trying to sound confident. He poured a bit in, and brought it over to me, setting it on the edge of my desk. "Thanks," I muttered, hoping no one had seen. I could get my own coffee. I didn't need anyone else to do it. Ever since I was a child, my father taught me the way the world worked. "Men don't show feelings," he would say. "Me...

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“The End of the World” by Quinn Marie

Trigger Warning: Death, Disease I always laughed at the people who prepared for an apocalypse, as if zombies or aliens or some disease would take over someday and they'd need to save the world. If the world was going to end, there would be no heroes. Hell, if the world was going to end, we'd all turn into selfish monsters. In the end, I was right. I don’t have friends. I probably could if I wanted to. I can be funny, in my mind, at least. I gossip with no shame. I am generous when I want to be. But I don't want friends. I don't want to h...

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“Take an edge off the hurt” by Quinn Marie

Trigger Warning: Alcohol, Abuse, Murder When I was younger, I loved my father. He bought me the most expensive toys to go with my fancy bedroom. I had 3 different playhouses, countless dolls, and a tiny Maltese dog named Hannah. I named her after my mother, who had died when I was too young to know what death was. Then, as I grew, I began to hate my father. He was never home, and when he was, he smelled of whisky and Scotch. No cheap beer or bitter vodka for my dad. I learned to recognize a drunk man when I was 8 years old. I knew to...

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“Runaways” by Quinn Marie

The day I turned 16 was the last time I saw my house, my family, my hometown. I hadn't had a real home in a year and a half. Why, you might ask, would a minor be living on their own, wandering from town to town, getting cash whatever way possible? Well, it wasn't exactly my choice. See, there was this guy. Actually, there were a few guys, and they were all trying to kill me. I don't exactly know why.  Something about a 'family feud' and a scary 'employer'. I never stayed long enough to find out. Over the years, I'd mastered the life sav...

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Author bio

I hate my life, so I write lies on fake paper on an online interface to escape from my problems, and post them, so you can too. You're Welcome.