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Serena Johnston

Author on Reedsy Prompts since May, 2021

Stories (34)
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98 Followers
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34 Stories

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The Monster Named Steve

The monster under my bed was named Steve. At least, that's what he told me. It's been a long time since I saw Steve, over a decade or so in fact. I saw something the other day that reminded me of him in a neglected shop window, a little teddy bear that looked a little worse-for-wear. It was almost exactly like his favourite toy when we were younger, a stuffed bear named Teddy that I had lost one night and never found again. Steve had taken it into his cosy little den under my bed and never let it go again. I had only found my old stuff...

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Old Love - Part 3

Julia King was walking briskly over the Muskoka river when she bumped into a tall man on the bridge. "I'm sorry," she apologised, not seeing the person's face, therefore not knowing who it was. "I wasn't watching where I was going." Then Julia looked up and deeply regretted saying anything. The elderly man was Matthew Turstin, her sworn enemy. In a way. It was too complicated to go into detail at the moment. Matthew smiled. "Well, hello, Mrs. King. May I help you?" Julia recoiled, shrinking away from the Human Devil as if he were som...

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A Harsh Goodbye

I'm leaving. After spending fifteen years of my life here, I'm leaving my birthplace. I didn't think it would be this hard. Somehow, I always underestimate things. I thought I would brush off leaving home and move on with my new life. This is much, much more difficult than I could have ever imagined. So much has happened in fifteen years, so many good memories. I'm drawn into a flashback, only one of many to follow in this complicated goodbye. *********** I'm sitting on the back wall in the yard, swinging my chubby little legs an...

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The Princess of France

Marielle sighed as she gazed out the window. The Seine was frozen over this time of year, and she could see young children skating across it. She could almost hear their laughter and shouts of joy, but that was probably just her imagination. Marielle was just so lonely up in her tower, with no one to talk to except her governess and tutors. She may have lived a rich life as France's Madame Royale, but it was a lonely one. She heard a knock on her door and whirled around in surprise, her skirts flying around with her. "May I come in?" A...

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A Fortune-Teller's Gift

I wipe the sweat off my brow with my velvety sleeve. This is the worst time of year to be working, in the unrelenting heat of summer. But royals always seem to need entertainment for birthdays and whatnot, so our carnival must travel and perform all year long.Sometimes I loathe my job, but find it refreshing and relaxing at the same time. I'm not sure whether to love or hate my life, because it depends on my mental state.But one thing always stays the same: I'm a fraud.Everyone knows this; we only put up an act for the money. We're paid for ...

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The Noble Assassin

I always wear a mask to hide my face.I know that's a kind of normal reason for someone to wear a mask, but there's a special reason for me to obscure my appearance.My mask hides not only my identity, but my actions.There was once a person I was, a girl named Kimberly Adams. She was your stereotypical Rosewooden young lady, perfect and poised to become the next Lady Rosewood.But I realised what my parents, Lord and Lady Rosewood, were actually doing.They were tearing our province down, one bit at a time. Stealing all our resources, squanderin...

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The Package of Her Dreams

As the sun set outside the Foxglove Inn, a young woman was seated at a small desk writing a letter.  Her name was Mollie, Mollie Dunlop in full. And the letter she was penning was, well, one of great importance to her. Mollie sighed and raked her fingers through her long chestnut hair. This letter was hard for her to write, that was for sure.  This is a good start, she reminded herself. You’re getting somewhere, at least. Indeed she was; the letter Mollie was writing was to the agency for women in need or distress, the WA f...

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Stories of the War

Back in Amelia's day, no tragic events ever took place. She lived in a quiet, peaceful town in Berkshire, England, with no matter more pressing than arriving at school on time. Now, though, in Amelia's old age, the War To End All Wars arrived in 1914, nearing the end of a hot, balmy summer, the warmest England had seen in a long while. That dreadful day, the fourth of August, was the day England entered the Great War. Many brave young people went off to war, including Amelia's own grandson, Andrew Russell. She and all her family wept whe...

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Return to Humanity

Kiera had lived in the house for years, but it only felt empty now, ever since her parents had died. Before, everything had been sunshine and rainbows, with the family filling the gloomy house with cheer and pretty things. Now, though, the house was gloomy again, the darkness seeping in through the cracks in the wall plaster. Kiera roamed the house, and never did any of her usual things anymore. She didn't brush her hair, wash her face, or anything. She was an old woman now, haunting the hallowed halls of her previously grandiose home....

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The Book of Spirits

Viola Davis had died. That was sure and certain. Then why had she suddenly woken up in a den with two other sunset-coloured furballs? Her question was soon answered when she looked down at herself. She looked like the sunset furballs, with a long chestnut tail tipped with white. From Viola's studies, she knew that there were foxes around her. Which meant that she was now also a fox. She screamed, but only a squeak came out. The other foxes in the den looked her way. My brothers and sisters, she thought. The foxes turned her way, bli...

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Swirling Colours

As the leaves fall around me, I look up to the grey sky. It isn’t very intricate today, just a thick sheet of grey. Rain’s coming. That’s okay, though. That means I can imagine things onto the blank canvas that serves as a sky for us people on Earth.  Right now, I’m thinking of cerulean heavens, with clouds that look like an artist painted them floating overhead, all streaks and fades.  There’s an eagle flying above me, circling the hiking trail lazily and calling out once in a while.  I love rain, too. Many people don’t, ...

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Aunt Paige

My friends and I had spent forever trying to get everything ready for the ritual. It was finally ready, though, and I was super excited. I was finally going to meet the Aunt Paige of my dreams, the aunt I had never actually met in real life. She had died before I was born, and of all the family stories I had heard my parents gossiping about, she sounded like the person I would relate to the most. And, just my luck, she wasn't around to chat to. When I found this book, though, my firm belief changed. With the book, Raising the Dead, I cou...

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The Market of the Night

To get to the Market of the Night, you take a left turn on Eerie Avenue, go straight, then turn right on Spooky Street. An immediate left brings you to Lune Lane, which is where you'll find the Market. It happens all through the months of September and October, but the busiest night of all is the eve of Halloween. The Market of the Night is sometimes called the Harvest Market, taking place when it does, but we know better. It is the most magical, most intriguing, least normal market you can think of. I had just finished setting up my marke...

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From Land to Shore to Sea

"We will have enough time," Sofie said to her crew. Roxanne raised her hand. "Sof. Are you sure? Because it doesn't sound like it." "Positive." Taylor held up her abacus. "Uh, Cap? We actually won't have enough time." "We actually will." Sofie set the map on the table in front of her. Zinnia opened her mouth to say something, but closed it again when Sofie stood up. "Excuse me, girls, but I'm really tired. I'm going to take a nap." Sofie strolled haughtily out the door. Sofie had no intention of sleeping. She entered t...

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Silent As A Graveyard

This MC's wife and daughter are named after Deirdra Lovegren and Sienna :), two of my followers. Thanks for the support, Deirdra and Sienna :)! CW: Mild language I set my cup of coffee down, my fifth tonight. For some reason, I'm over-tired, maybe because I'm always on the night shift. Boss says it's good for me, but I'd have to disagree. He always thinks he knows every little detail, even how I feel. But no one knows how I feel. I think of my family, sleeping peacefully at home in their beds. The younger daughter, Sienna, cuddling h...

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