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Start your story with a character in despair.

Posted in Dark on Jun 14, 2024

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✍️ 89 stories

Some Peace and Quiet

Winner of Contest #255 🏆

For the record, I really wasn’t trying to kill myself. I know what it looks like. I grew up in the northeast; I should have known the dangers of a February night and a lakeshore buried in snow. I do remember being little, maybe five years old, and hearing my parents (bright, young, sober) discussing a boy who had frozen to death by my school. They said it was a soft, painless way to go, and that was what made February dangerous: you felt, there at the end, like you were calm and safe and even warm. You had to be smart to keep yourself from s...

153 likes 46 comments 46
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Grieving Yourself

Submitted to Contest #255

Richard had ignored the signs. His had been a demise that crept upon him slowly, his self-worth stolen in the lonely work hours, validation kept from him at home. If it wasn’t the expectations of his career peeling back the last of his resolve, it was his high-strung wife with her exhaustive demands. She taxed him to the brink of collapse. His three children had pushed him to the edges of bankruptcy with their private schools, designer clothes, and rehab stints. He loved them, but they had drifted from his reach, caught in the rip current of...

68 likes 56 comments 56
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Jane Says

Submitted to Contest #255

CW: Suicide, addiction, sexual assaultI had no idea at the time that I was falling in love with a dying man.Head resting on the glass window pane as I drove silently through the night, he slurred more to himself than to me, "St. Christopher sent you. You're my very own patron saint. I don't deserve you."The more he mumbled in appreciation, the more I wanted to scream. He was right about one thing, he didn't deserve me. A few years clean when we met, I didn’t know he struggled with a lifelong addiction until he relapsed. By then, it was too l...

50 likes 56 comments 56
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Fair Lady II

Submitted to Contest #255

Fair Lady IISir Riley Fenwick paced back and forth wringing his hands. “Hurry up, Ole Chap! We'll never find her again if you take all day getting your shirt back on.”“Don't despair, Mate. In this crowd she can't be moving very fast. Help me tie this confounded cravat. The least this boxing venue could have done is provide a mirror back here if they expect a gentleman to strip to his bare chest to participate in a match. How is one ever supposed to go out in public again half dressed?”“Don't need to get fancy, Carlton. We're not headed to a ...

33 likes 48 comments 48
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The Pretty Little Italian Girl

Submitted to Contest #255

“Kill him, kill him. He is a worm”, the voice in Josefina’s head was louder.“Josefina, why don’t you sit down? Why don’t you drink this water?”, said Margherita, placing a glass on the kitchen table in front of the girl, “maybe it will help you calm down.” Margherita placed a hand on the Josefina’s shoulder and was shocked at how thin she was, just skin and bone beneath the woolen jacket. It only made the message more difficult to deliver.Josefina gulped at the water, spilling as much as she consumed, then held the glass ...

17 likes 3 comments 3
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Simply Because I Could...

Submitted to Contest #255

What I might have done yesterday, and who I might have been may be different today as I sit in my leather chair in the trailer I call home thinking on these things, but those decisions are gone. They are made like the bed I lay in. I must let them go or for sure they will strangle me in the sheets my mind rolls around in. I don’t want to think of him, but I can’t help it, and sometimes my brain beats so fast I need to drink beer or wine or something to deaden the thoughts that will otherwise rip right out of my mind if not pushed into a...

17 likes 15 comments 15
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The Struggling Artist

Submitted to Contest #255

My forehead started to numb as it pressed against the cool, laminate bar top. I looked down at my weathered jeans, staring into the spots where my tears had soaked into the fabric. They created dark blue circles beside the colorful blots of oil paint my work clothes had collected, creating an unintentional abstract design. The tears finally completed the struggling artist's look I was going for.  I was alone in the bar, aside from an older gentleman who sat at the end of the cane-shaped bar and paid me no attention. He was nursing a sco...

15 likes 7 comments 7
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I Don't Like Mondays

Submitted to Contest #255

CW: This story contains themes of various potentially disturbing topics."I DON'T LIKE MONDAYS"After the police came to the house that night and I went through the system and the court-mandated 5150 hold and almost 30 days in the psych ward, when I was scheduled for release within 48 hours I had to meet with yet another new psychiatrist who would be responsible for making an assessment as to whether or not I was a continuing danger to myself or others. Whether or not I could go home.I was tired. I was tired of all of it. I was tired of t...

14 likes 16 comments 16
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Flight

Submitted to Contest #255

The parachute was not working. It was funny, really. Samuel was an old man now and he had no fears except this one and it had happened. He heard his hangman hum above as it abandoned him, quickly drowned out by the roaring of the wind. Was his heart beating? It was but he could not count the beats and before anything he was falling. It was the falling that had scared him. The jumping was always easy. He knew how to do it. But this was what he feared, and he cursed himself that it had happened.   Seconds passed and he fell through t...

13 likes 1 comment 1
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Fairness and Freedom

Submitted to Contest #255

Fairness and Freedom Trigger Warning: Contains acts of war. We both stand in the clearing, staring at each other. I'm struck motionless by the suddenness of seeing him in front of me. His fear-stricken eyes mirror my shock. We recognize each other immediately—not the person, but the uniform. Neither of us has our guns at the ready. I hold mine by the stock, pointing it to the ground. He grasps his, white-knuckled, pointing it to his left, his fingers nowhere near the trigger. The slightest movement by one would send the other swinging the g...

13 likes 4 comments 4
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I Didn't Choose This and I'm Better For It

Submitted to Contest #255

TW: divorce, affair, mental health “You wouldn’t even care if I died!” I shouted to my husband. Should I even call him that? He was at the other woman’s house, just outside of it with me in the parking lot. He barely looked at me as I shouted like a maniac to my betraying husband. He sat in his car. All he said was “I have to go to work,” which only made me feel as though he wouldn’t care if I died. I felt like the crazy person people would call the cops on, but if only they knew how I was hurting. ***~A few weeks earlier~ The whirlwind I wa...

13 likes 8 comments 8
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From the Depths

Submitted to Contest #255

Annie walked as though fatigue held her hostage. With each step, she sighed at the terrible sounds of despair. Her eyes were half shut, and her body was despondent about the issues surrounding her."Why should I prepare things for others to see as they pass this place?" She said. "It always ends with the same outcome. Doesn't it?"She meandered herself toward what she thought was the river bed.The thought of thrusting her body into the river to allow the raging water to take her away with it crossed her weary mind. She knew if she knew how to ...

12 likes 10 comments 10
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Painting Your Own Path

Submitted to Contest #255

Disclaimer: This story contains minimal references to death and substance abuse. It is always the cold winter night, when frost overtakes the town and snow buries our favorite memories. It is when the clouds dominate the sky and so our universe seems to disappear. Or is it that my family only fights on christmas then cries and pleads with one another as they leave the gathering. No, I think it is when the sun rises but no light is strong enough to break through; that is how I know that the winter has been cursed. Well I stopped going to the...

12 likes 2 comments 2
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Stay

Submitted to Contest #255

The yellow roses and wildflowers swayed in the gentle early morning breeze. The garden had never looked more beautiful, thanks to my amazing, gorgeous husband, and all I wanted was to close my eyes and leave the world behind. I hadn’t had this much time to myself since graduation, the first time it happened. I’m here again, and I just want everything-the fear, anger, regret-to stop.Here you are.” The drag of Miguel’s lips washed a small wave of pleasure over me."How long have you been out here?”“Since about 4:30.”  He wrapped me in his ...

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A Love Letter to Humanity

Submitted to Contest #255

May this letter find you in a spirit of anger. My name is Dick Neilson — renowned geneticist, chairperson of the International Council of Freedom and Prosperity (ICFP), and soon-to-be mass murderer. I greet you in anguish.  This letter will serve as my confession, my suicide note, and my billet-doux to humanity. Come what may.  Shakespeare originally popularized that expression, “come what may,” in Macbeth, which is a story about what happens when you let fate meddle with everything. He’s dead and won’t mind my borrowing it.&n...

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