“THIS SHOW IS A JOKE!” As the latest person walked off the stage in a rage, throwing the papers up in the air as he stormed for the exit. I had just disproved his claim that he was telepathic, calling him out for trying to force a page open with his mind-. Just to see him try and flap his hands at the page, hoping it would blow over. This was my life, interviewing people that claimed they had “Extraordinary powers” then I would try to prove they were false. When I first started I was full of enthusiasm, this was my big break.. This was just a stepping stone to a bigger gig but five years later- I was …

Why does conflict happen most often with those we’re the closest with? You would think that because we love our family, friends, and colleagues so much that we’d understand each other enough that conflict wouldn’t be necessary. But now I realize that because we show each other our vulnerabilities and flaws is why most major conflict occurs. With strangers, people are reluctant to open up to them and try to actively avoid conflict constantly, unlike with those we know all too well. When I was younger, I learned these lessons the hard way in many horrifying events that happened around that time… My name is Aurelia, and I’m a young woman who recently graduated from college. I’m writing this memoir…

You can’t help yourself anymore when you see the man in black Cold. One, simple, ever so small word. Or that’s what you can say, and lie about. That’s what I wake up to. That’s the same thing I wake up to every morning. The same gruesome cold I’m forced to live with, in my small, unassuming apartment. I’m the kind of guy some would consider “A waste of space.” Personally, that’s a little much. I’m the kind of guy to work low-paying jobs and night shifts at dingy beat down places, or just some not out of the ordinary fast food restaurant. Hey, who serves you that food you get at your favorite fast food restaurant? That low-life guy…

A hallway that never ends. Picture this. Life is great. Ten years old. Ten years of your life have been on earth. Ten years. On my tenth birthday, I got the worst birthday gift. I fell asleep that night, the night of my tenth birthday. I had gotten great gifts, and I was exhausted. The moment I woke up, however, I was in a completely different place. Laying on the ground, I slowly gained consciousness. The room was gray with dim light, and by me was a crumpled sheet of paper. I opened it, and there were the rules. The list of rules that have kept me alive this long. Currently, I’m fourteen. Four years I have relied on these…

There’s a quote I once read, buried in some forgotten philosophy book: “To peel away the layers of the world is to expose what hides beneath, and what hides beneath is not meant to be seen.” At the time, it seemed like one of those lines people throw around when they want to sound profound, but they don’t really know what it means. The kind of thing you hear at a party from someone who’s had one too many drinks and thinks they’re the next Nietzsche. I’d rolled my eyes at it then, thought it was all too abstract to have any real meaning. But now… now I can’t stop thinking about it. The words gnaw at me. They crawl…

I hate Mondays. It’s a generic thing, but I just loathe having to go to work after the weekend. Anyway, I’m done with it, so I guess I can’t complain now. I recently purchased a house for a surprisingly good deal out in the woods. It’s a pretty nice place, other than sometimes the cellular mysteriously goes out for hours at a time. It’s pretty late, about 9 p.m. My new job keeps me quite late, but it’s extra pay, so you’re not hearing anything bad from me. As I get off the main road and onto the gravel road into the woods, per my navigation system’s directions, I listen to my tires running over the small rocks, almost sounding…

The Visit Henry had always been a bit different. As a child, he was quiet, more interested in books and toys than in other children. He grew up alone, but he never seemed to mind. His mother, Grace, worried that her son wasn’t making any friends, but Henry always reassured her that he was fine just the way he was. One day, after returning from work, I received an unusual phone call from Henry. “Mom, you need to come over. I want to introduce you to someone.” Henry’s tone was different than usual—more excited, which made me feel a sense of relief. Maybe he had finally found a girlfriend? There was a reason to think so—my son had unexpectedly gone…

The nonstop pitter-patter of the cold rain against my bedroom window set the mood. I found myself rubbing my eyes, unable to follow the now swaying lines. My book was a jumbled mess of dyslexic text. I spent another minute trying to decipher the words, but my exhausted state of mind could not put meaning to them. I folded the top right corner of the page and gingerly placed Bram Stoker’s, Dracula, back on the windowsill.   I must’ve dozed off at some point because I found myself dreaming. Eyes. Red eyes the size of saucer plates peered into the depths of my soul. No matter how hard I tried to look away, I could not break the gaze. I felt…

In the flickering light of the torch, the old gold shimmered with a mesmerizing allure, a testament to the treasures of a bygone era. At long last, the avaricious seekers had found their prize, their hearts consumed by an insatiable hunger for wealth. “We shall be rich beyond measure,” declared Sir Hampton with a triumphant laugh, his fingers greedily digging into the mounds of golden coins. His men exchanged glances of unbridled excitement, their hands eagerly filling their pockets with the gleaming metal. “Never again shall we toil,” one man exclaimed with glee. “Nor our children,” another added, his voice brimming with anticipation. The crew’s laughter echoed through the ancient chamber, a sound of pure, unadulterated joy. But their revelry…

This story is about a young guy named Finn who lived and survived in a dark thick forest where snow fell often and anything that could move was still and frozen. Finn was ice fishing with his regular gear, near a hut he had found which was made from tree bark and vines growing over a structure formed from ice. He smiled as he reeled in a large catch, and he began to dance. However he slipped on the ice and hit his head on a rock. Looking around for any witnesses of his embarrassment, he saw nobody. He sighed relief, looking at his fish once again, holding it and wishing there was someone around, to witness his catch. He…

There’s a quote I once read, buried in some forgotten philosophy book: “To peel away the layers of the world is to expose what hides beneath, and what hides beneath is not meant to be seen.” At the time, it seemed like one of those lines people throw around when they want to sound profound, but they don’t really know what it means. The kind of thing you hear at a party from someone who’s had one too many drinks and thinks they’re the next Nietzsche. I’d rolled my eyes at it then, thought it was all too abstract to have any real meaning. But now… now I can’t stop thinking about it. The words gnaw at me. They crawl…

I need to be extremely clear to you that this is real. There is nothing fabricated in what I am about to tell you. There are what I can only describe as zombies out there, making their way to you right now. A few nights ago I saw a news story on my phone. I opened google to search for something, and underneath the searchbar there were the usual news articles I expect to see. But one of them mentioned something about a violent rabies outbreak nearby. The picture underneath showed a low quality image of a person being handled by police or doctors into what looked to be a truck. It looked to me like a screenshot from a…

I have to write about this here because if I tell anyone in my life they will not believe me. I need to purge myself of these memories, I must share them with you. It began as I lay still and heavy in my old bed. It was not soft but I was drifting away to a place where I could dream. Then, the quite common unsettling occurrence happens where from my bed upon an ungodly hour, I could hear a loud screeching inhuman scream. A woman’s scream if it were to be replicated by a waterlogged and damaged robot voice box. A screeching as though a hoard of crows were to imitate a human upon their death. I feel…

In the flickering light of the torch, the old gold shimmered with a mesmerizing allure, a testament to the treasures of a bygone era. At long last, the avaricious seekers had found their prize, their hearts consumed by an insatiable hunger for wealth. “We shall be rich beyond measure,” declared Sir Hampton with a triumphant laugh, his fingers greedily digging into the mounds of golden coins. His men exchanged glances of unbridled excitement, their hands eagerly filling their pockets with the gleaming metal. “Never again shall we toil,” one man exclaimed with glee. “Nor our children,” another added, his voice brimming with anticipation. The crew’s laughter echoed through the ancient chamber, a sound of pure, unadulterated joy. But their revelry…

You can’t help yourself anymore when you see the man in black Cold. One, simple, ever so small word. Or that’s what you can say, and lie about. That’s what I wake up to. That’s the same thing I wake up to every morning. The same gruesome cold I’m forced to live with, in my small, unassuming apartment. I’m the kind of guy some would consider “A waste of space.” Personally, that’s a little much. I’m the kind of guy to work low-paying jobs and night shifts at dingy beat down places, or just some not out of the ordinary fast food restaurant. Hey, who serves you that food you get at your favorite fast food restaurant? That low-life guy…

Why does conflict happen most often with those we’re the closest with? You would think that because we love our family, friends, and colleagues so much that we’d understand each other enough that conflict wouldn’t be necessary. But now I realize that because we show each other our vulnerabilities and flaws is why most major conflict occurs. With strangers, people are reluctant to open up to them and try to actively avoid conflict constantly, unlike with those we know all too well. When I was younger, I learned these lessons the hard way in many horrifying events that happened around that time… My name is Aurelia, and I’m a young woman who recently graduated from college. I’m writing this memoir…

The Visit Henry had always been a bit different. As a child, he was quiet, more interested in books and toys than in other children. He grew up alone, but he never seemed to mind. His mother, Grace, worried that her son wasn’t making any friends, but Henry always reassured her that he was fine just the way he was. One day, after returning from work, I received an unusual phone call from Henry. “Mom, you need to come over. I want to introduce you to someone.” Henry’s tone was different than usual—more excited, which made me feel a sense of relief. Maybe he had finally found a girlfriend? There was a reason to think so—my son had unexpectedly gone…

The nonstop pitter-patter of the cold rain against my bedroom window set the mood. I found myself rubbing my eyes, unable to follow the now swaying lines. My book was a jumbled mess of dyslexic text. I spent another minute trying to decipher the words, but my exhausted state of mind could not put meaning to them. I folded the top right corner of the page and gingerly placed Bram Stoker’s, Dracula, back on the windowsill.   I must’ve dozed off at some point because I found myself dreaming. Eyes. Red eyes the size of saucer plates peered into the depths of my soul. No matter how hard I tried to look away, I could not break the gaze. I felt…

A hallway that never ends. Picture this. Life is great. Ten years old. Ten years of your life have been on earth. Ten years. On my tenth birthday, I got the worst birthday gift. I fell asleep that night, the night of my tenth birthday. I had gotten great gifts, and I was exhausted. The moment I woke up, however, I was in a completely different place. Laying on the ground, I slowly gained consciousness. The room was gray with dim light, and by me was a crumpled sheet of paper. I opened it, and there were the rules. The list of rules that have kept me alive this long. Currently, I’m fourteen. Four years I have relied on these…

“THIS SHOW IS A JOKE!” As the latest person walked off the stage in a rage, throwing the papers up in the air as he stormed for the exit. I had just disproved his claim that he was telepathic, calling him out for trying to force a page open with his mind-. Just to see him try and flap his hands at the page, hoping it would blow over. This was my life, interviewing people that claimed they had “Extraordinary powers” then I would try to prove they were false. When I first started I was full of enthusiasm, this was my big break.. This was just a stepping stone to a bigger gig but five years later- I was …

I need to be extremely clear to you that this is real. There is nothing fabricated in what I am about to tell you. There are what I can only describe as zombies out there, making their way to you right now. A few nights ago I saw a news story on my phone. I opened google to search for something, and underneath the searchbar there were the usual news articles I expect to see. But one of them mentioned something about a violent rabies outbreak nearby. The picture underneath showed a low quality image of a person being handled by police or doctors into what looked to be a truck. It looked to me like a screenshot from a…

I have to write about this here because if I tell anyone in my life they will not believe me. I need to purge myself of these memories, I must share them with you. It began as I lay still and heavy in my old bed. It was not soft but I was drifting away to a place where I could dream. Then, the quite common unsettling occurrence happens where from my bed upon an ungodly hour, I could hear a loud screeching inhuman scream. A woman’s scream if it were to be replicated by a waterlogged and damaged robot voice box. A screeching as though a hoard of crows were to imitate a human upon their death. I feel…

The Visit Henry had always been a bit different. As a child, he was quiet, more interested in books and toys than in other children. He grew up alone, but he never seemed to mind. His mother, Grace, worried that her son wasn’t making any friends, but Henry always reassured her that he was fine just the way he was. One day, after returning from work, I received an unusual phone call from Henry. “Mom, you need to come over. I want to introduce you to someone.” Henry’s tone was different than usual—more excited, which made me feel a sense of relief. Maybe he had finally found a girlfriend? There was a reason to think so—my son had unexpectedly gone…

The nonstop pitter-patter of the cold rain against my bedroom window set the mood. I found myself rubbing my eyes, unable to follow the now swaying lines. My book was a jumbled mess of dyslexic text. I spent another minute trying to decipher the words, but my exhausted state of mind could not put meaning to them. I folded the top right corner of the page and gingerly placed Bram Stoker’s, Dracula, back on the windowsill.   I must’ve dozed off at some point because I found myself dreaming. Eyes. Red eyes the size of saucer plates peered into the depths of my soul. No matter how hard I tried to look away, I could not break the gaze. I felt…

There’s a quote I once read, buried in some forgotten philosophy book: “To peel away the layers of the world is to expose what hides beneath, and what hides beneath is not meant to be seen.” At the time, it seemed like one of those lines people throw around when they want to sound profound, but they don’t really know what it means. The kind of thing you hear at a party from someone who’s had one too many drinks and thinks they’re the next Nietzsche. I’d rolled my eyes at it then, thought it was all too abstract to have any real meaning. But now… now I can’t stop thinking about it. The words gnaw at me. They crawl…

It started in the girls’ changing room after gym. Standing on the cold tile floor while scrubbing off the sweat with a wet wipe. I’ve been here so many times my movements are automatic, almost involuntary, whilst I am in my own mind, milling the minutes until next period. My movements halted, I was scared. Am I trapped? Dying? Using my joints is now similar to the clicking in place of metal gears. Click click click. My first instinct was to hide until I could regain my composure. An unknown sickness took over me. The girls can’t see me like this, it’s too much. They’ll look down on my weakness. “Adina?” It slithers in and out of my ears like…

“THIS SHOW IS A JOKE!” As the latest person walked off the stage in a rage, throwing the papers up in the air as he stormed for the exit. I had just disproved his claim that he was telepathic, calling him out for trying to force a page open with his mind-. Just to see him try and flap his hands at the page, hoping it would blow over. This was my life, interviewing people that claimed they had “Extraordinary powers” then I would try to prove they were false. When I first started I was full of enthusiasm, this was my big break.. This was just a stepping stone to a bigger gig but five years later- I was …

This story is about a young guy named Finn who lived and survived in a dark thick forest where snow fell often and anything that could move was still and frozen. Finn was ice fishing with his regular gear, near a hut he had found which was made from tree bark and vines growing over a structure formed from ice. He smiled as he reeled in a large catch, and he began to dance. However he slipped on the ice and hit his head on a rock. Looking around for any witnesses of his embarrassment, he saw nobody. He sighed relief, looking at his fish once again, holding it and wishing there was someone around, to witness his catch. He…

I hate Mondays. It’s a generic thing, but I just loathe having to go to work after the weekend. Anyway, I’m done with it, so I guess I can’t complain now. I recently purchased a house for a surprisingly good deal out in the woods. It’s a pretty nice place, other than sometimes the cellular mysteriously goes out for hours at a time. It’s pretty late, about 9 p.m. My new job keeps me quite late, but it’s extra pay, so you’re not hearing anything bad from me. As I get off the main road and onto the gravel road into the woods, per my navigation system’s directions, I listen to my tires running over the small rocks, almost sounding…

In the flickering light of the torch, the old gold shimmered with a mesmerizing allure, a testament to the treasures of a bygone era. At long last, the avaricious seekers had found their prize, their hearts consumed by an insatiable hunger for wealth. “We shall be rich beyond measure,” declared Sir Hampton with a triumphant laugh, his fingers greedily digging into the mounds of golden coins. His men exchanged glances of unbridled excitement, their hands eagerly filling their pockets with the gleaming metal. “Never again shall we toil,” one man exclaimed with glee. “Nor our children,” another added, his voice brimming with anticipation. The crew’s laughter echoed through the ancient chamber, a sound of pure, unadulterated joy. But their revelry…