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CONTEST ENDED – Thank you for submitting your stories!

#252: Obsession

The Netflix series Baby Reindeer, inspired by a real-life stalker story, has garnered millions of views over the past month while receiving both critical acclaim and heavy backlash. In the show, a chance encounter between a barman and a total stranger descends into a chaotic tale of stalking, destruction, and mutual obsession. Delving into themes of personal boundaries, power dynamics, identity struggles, and mental health problems, the show depicts some of the complexities and contradictions inherent in human psychology.


Inspired by Baby Reindeer, this week's prompts are an invitation to explore some of the nuances of human behavior. Whether you write a witty story, a heartwarming tale, or something tense and gripping is up to you!

This week's prompts

Start your story with a character being followed.

Dramatic – 99 stories

Write about a character who struggles to do the right thing.

Character – 35 stories

Write a story in which one of the characters is a narcissist.

Character – 39 stories

Make a character’s obsession or addiction an important element of your story.

Dramatic – 129 stories

Write a story that includes someone saying, “Be careful what you wish for.”

Character – 55 stories

Stories

“Bird bones” by Stephanie Lye

Submitted to Contest #252

My sister was like a wildfire. She burned bright, hot, and all-consuming. She engulfed with her energy – the loud laugh reminiscent of wind chimes that you could hear from two rooms away, her restless body that was always moving – the leg shivering against the table, and the fingers that fidgeted with objects, loose threads, her own fingernails. On her sixteenth birthday my parents bought her a fidget ring with a big opal that spun. After that you didn’t see her without it, the barely audible hum as the stone rotated for the millionth time, ...

2 comments 2
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“The Compromise” by Jeremy Stevens

Submitted to Contest #252

He called on me in class today. “Audrey, have you a verse to contribute?” he asked. He does this, calls on students whose hands aren’t raised, his (admittedly effective) way of keeping us tame. He calls it “voluntolding.” There’d been a lull, a long, uncomfortable pause after he nominated Lance to contribute a verse: Lance, the one who sits in the corner closest to the back door, the one who gets picked up by the Boys’ and Girls’ Club bus. The one whose refrigerator displays the school lunch menu with a smiley-face magnet; the one whose grea...

3 comments 3
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“The Guest” by Nancy Beretz

Submitted to Contest #252

It wasn't easy to convince myself that what I was about to do was normal. Yet, I figured out how to rationalize it. There was no way that this was the same person I had met a decade ago, but there was no denying my curiosity. He has been in and out of my dreams to this very day. I tried to stay far enough behind that he wouldn't see me, but close enough that I could watch his body language. He turned and went into a coffee shop. I stood in line as close as I could to see his face. When he turned his head I knew it was him. Holy shit. I ...

1 comment 1
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“Glamourpuss” by John Redken

Submitted to Contest #252

Jackie was back at it, scouring through the comments from her latest uploaded video, entitled “Not too shabby!" featuring five minutes of her stood opposite her full length mirror, posing in her new black swimsuit. She hadn't said much in that video, like she normally did, because she wanted her viewers to focus solely on her figure rather than her words. She knew when she spoke that people stopped to pay attention, and she didn't want them distracted this time. She had even gone so far as to block most of her face by holding up her iPad as ...

3 comments 3
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“The Schmidt Just Hit the Fan ” by Michael Jefferson

Submitted to Contest #252

“It’s that time of year again,” Dr. Killi Knapp, the Gross family’s psychiatrist says. Dr. Knapp adjusts his designer frame glasses as Paul and Celeste bow their heads. “She was getting better,” Paul says, nervously brushing back what’s left of his hair. Celeste reaches for Paul’s hand. “She finished third three years ago. They sent her a doll…” “A Moogli doll. It’s a character on the show,” Paul explains. “Kind of a Yehti.” “That’s kept her going,” Celeste adds. “She’s sure the essay she wrote for this year’s contest will win.” Dr. Knapp’s...

9 comments 9
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“Resolutions” by Peaky Progger

Submitted to Contest #252

Resolutions are like assholes he sighs. His distinctive voice burnt ash ground under a boot toe. The inevitable outcome is shit. He pulls a pack of Marlboro reds from his chest pocket, extracts one and snaps his thumb on the knurled wheel of a weathered, chrome Zippo igniting a stubby flame. New Years Day brings out the curmudgeon in him. "What'll you have, Unc?" I ask spinning a cardboard coaster down on the bar before him. The zippo snaps closed with a satisfying metallic clink and he pulls long on the cigarette, the answer on hold as he ...

2 comments 2
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“Shattered ” by Cindy Calder

Submitted to Contest #252

Warning: this story contains fictionalized accounts of death and mental anguish.The room was dimly lit, befitting the seriousness of the situation. Isabelle lay on the bed, her arm stretched across her eyes in an attempt to shield herself from the brutal force of reality. It was deathly silent except for the sound of her own heartbeat reverberating like thunder in her ears. Occasionally, a muffled sob issued forth, its owner attempting unsuccessfully to submerge the emotions embodied in his cloaked cry.Archer. She loved the man dearly - near...

3 comments 3
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“The Circus Of Spies” by Lee Kendrick

Submitted to Contest #252

The Circus Of SpiesBy Lee Kendrick After hopping on the 38 bus I walk up the stairs to the upper deck and find an empty seat, two seats behind my target. I've been tailing this woman for about three weeks now. My name is Nathan Peterson. As a British MI5 agent for about five years, I've had various surveillance jobs in my time, and by far this particular assignment is the most interesting one I've had.The woman in front of me in her blue raincoat and a red scarf around her neck is Margaret Jones. Twenty-two years old, born on 5th April ...

4 comments 4
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“Happy” by Rachel Coughenour

Submitted to Contest #252

She could tell by the way they stood close to one another, sharing uncertain glances, that they didn’t understand what she was saying. They didn’t, maybe couldn’t, understand her perspective. They couldn’t feel the grasp it had on her, reaching up through her insides holding on tight with fingers made not of flesh but barbed wire. To pull away from it would tear her apart.  The only other woman in the group was shaking her head slowly, a mask of disbelief stretched across her face in response to what she was hearing. Her thin arms were ...

0 comments 0
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“Ugly and the Beast” by Swain A

Submitted to Contest #252

I am Ugly. This was not always true. Once, I was beautiful. Once, I could look at my face with pride for its symmetry, its color, its allure. Back then, I never had to worry before stepping outside to be seen. But then the Beast came, appearing into my room as I slept, and every night since then, scar me ever so slightly. For years, I have tried to capture it, contain it, kill it, escape it, but it always returned and always with its blades, taking a piece of me away. Now, my face is mutilated. The Beast took away its symmetry, slowly, slow...

4 comments 4
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“Functional Alcoholic” by Sofia Fleming

Submitted to Contest #252

It starts to rain properly. Eventually, I get back to the house. Every inch of me feels dead. I’m not even angry at everything that’s happened. I’m just tired and sad. I put my Yamaha YZF-R6 back in the smithy with my helmet, lock the doors, and get inside. I almost don’t bother to take off my shoes or hang up my jacket. I switch the lights on and stumble into the kitchen over to the fully stocked bar. I call myself a glophead. Greyson says I’m a “functional alcoholic”, meaning I can “maintain daily obligations and routines” but still “misus...

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“Death” by Camille Clarke

Submitted to Contest #252

Death                                          By Camille Clarke  Mark looked around at the arid, dry ground. He knew what lay ahead. The smell blowing in the breeze was acrid, vomitous and telling. It was a smell you would never forget. Death. Death has a smell. You can't doubt it. The stench is overpowering. It was a habit ...

0 comments 0
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“The Fool and the Donkey Overture” by Emily Grace

Submitted to Contest #252

Note - excessive cursing, eldritch abomination The red curtain lifted. The stage was set, and the props were all in their correct places. A full-sized bed next to an open window, a spinning fan behind the window emulating a breeze, and, of course, a khaki-colored desk. A large, coffee-stained desk with disorganized stacks of music sheet paper that practically fell to the floor. It was about a year before the Modern Plague. Everything was different then. The conductor looked to the orchestra and lifted his baton. Each section of the orchestr...

8 comments 8
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“Jacob” by Lucas Alexander

Submitted to Contest #252

I finally made it home. It’s about time. School felt like forever. I enter my home and sit on the couch. I soak in comfort and take off my shoes. Thank goodness I finished my homework during silent reading time. Basically I am reading when I read the problems, so my teacher has no problem with it. She told me as long as I am quiet, she doesn’t care if I do my homework. I can take a quick nap before my parents arrive, right? I don’t remember them telling me to do anything before I got home. My room is clean, the kitchen sink is free of dirty ...

2 comments 2
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“The Physician’s Reckoning” by Connie Elstun

Submitted to Contest #252

I hear voices chattering. I cannot make out what they are saying; conceivably murder, perhaps, the clues are prevalent, I suppose. “Murder-suicide, most likely,” the Crone shouts out in an alto voice. It sounds like she has a tribe of ghouls at her side as they mumble, sometimes cooing delightfully. I do think it is Satan’s bride herself coxing me deeper and deeper into despair. Voltaire once wrote that every man is guilty of all the good he did not do. I assume he was thinking of young gentlemen who, like me, can start t...

0 comments 0
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$250

Prize money

357

Contest entries

143

Stories

Ended on 23:59 - May 31, 2024 EST

Won by Danielle LeBlanc 🏆

Title: Seven Hundred and Thirty Days

Submissions must be between 1,000 - 3,000 words and will be approved and published on Reedsy Prompts within 7 days of the contest closing.

Read the full terms & conditions or check out the FAQ if you have any questions!

Prompts | Big Blue Hand | 2024-11

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