I wandered through the stalls a bit, trying to use my map to figure out where I was, and the quickest way to get to the lake. The way I saw it, I wouldn’t have to struggle as much to put the candle out since it would already be surrounded by water, but first, I’d have to actually navigate my way to the lake. After a few hours worth of figuring out where exactly in the park I was, I began my trek to the lake. Usually, a walk like this would take hours back when the park was open, especially because of the crowds. Not to say it was popular, it was just that the park wasn’t really designed…

The Flat Stanley project is an educational endeavor first created back in 1995 by Dale Hubert, a third-grade teacher from Ontario, with the intention of helping develop student’s reading, writing, and social studies skills. The premise of the project is simple; students cut out a “Flat Stanley” figurine, decorate it, and then send it off to visit with a friend, family member, or prominent individual in a different area. During its visit, the person receiving Flat Stanley is asked to take it to various different places and take pictures with it. For instance, if you live in Washington, D.C., you might take Flat Stanley to visit the White House or the Capitol Building. Then once the figurine is returned home,…

Ah! Halloween! My favorite time of year! People rushing to the stores to stock up on candy, children dressing up as monsters to scare people, the many horror films shown on TV and in cinemas… In short! A dream come true! I can’t think of a more effervescent festival than this one! That was the case a year ago, but not anymore. This year, nobody celebrates Halloween anymore. The streets are completely deserted, and the city’s stores are all closed on this day. So much so that even the word “Halloween” has been banished from the locals’ vocabulary. I think I’m still one of the few people who fantasize about this holiday. The police and the city did everything in…

I last saw my girlfriend around seventeen years ago. Although for me, it was last week. I know that doesn’t make much sense. I’m not even sure why I’m writing this. It’s not like anybody will believe it. And even if they did, the truth would only make things worse. I just need to tell someone, anyone, even if that “someone” is the anonymous hive-mind of the internet. Maybe then I’ll be able to sleep again. Perhaps even start to move on with my life. I doubt it, though. I don’t think I can ever “move on” from the way I feel right now. So, where to start? Well, you can call me Joe. Obviously, that isn’t my real name.…

It’s been 25 years to the day since my friend Baptiste disappeared. Not officially. The date in the police record says ‘September 14’ because his aunt didn’t report him missing until three days later. I was the last person to see him though. I know when and where he disappeared, and I told the cops, but they brushed me off. I was just making things up to protect my friends, they said, and that I had watched too many horror movies. Baptiste and I were thick as thieves ever since first grade. To most people, we must have been an odd pair. The shy, withdrawn kid with the thick Haitian accent our classmates often made fun of, to a point…

Laboratory exploration day 8: Randy: We finally reached floor 3, and it isn’t really what any of us expected. It’s a lot more dirty than we remembered, and there are several broken glass enclosures. There’s paper everywhere, little pages and sticky notes covered in illegible scribbling. Something happened here, something serious. Steven: It looks like some sort of lab, there’s some random beakers and shattered vials on the floor, along with several pieces of paper coating the floor. I don’t think the others noticed this, but they all have something in common; they all have the word “Goliath” scribbled all over them. I don’t even want to think about what happened here. I asked Wendy for the map, but she…

Part 1 It would have been so much easier just to keep telling myself the worst parts of my past were all in my head, and assure myself it wasn’t healthy for me to think too much about it. What took place in this story occurred a long time ago, and until recently, it was something I pushed back to the deepest, darkest part of my mind. I attempted to convince myself, almost, that it didn’t really happen at all, that all the chaos in my life and the psychological issues I was dealing with merged together into a horrible messed up delusion I used to process everything. I almost succeeded. So many years went by and I managed to…

He never smiled I never understood why he cried. I would see him everywhere I went, he would cry over everything I did, he would always be sad.. like he just lost some one he loved. His hysterical sobs would fill my senses and I could never block him out. His woeful eyes, dull and glazed over would stare in my direction, but never directly at me as he heaved for breaths between his trembling tears.. he.. it… never smiles. The first day I saw him, my mother had just past away. I was 17 years old. I had lost my mother to a fire at my high school, which claimed 9 lives including that of my mom. It was…