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**vbarajas** · 10-06-2024, 03:34 AM

Valerie Barajas
Neko
The dog that acts like a cat

Night has fallen on a glisten city, where a female cat wonders the city’s streets after her owners let her out for the night. She walks around admiring the tall buildings that tower over her and watching the night life of people that bustle around into the night. The smell of food from a nearby seafood restaurant tingled the female cat’s nose that trigger her instincts to run towards the direction to where the food establishment was. She made her way to the restaurant, the smell of fish and other seafood was heavenly, as it made her mouth water with hunger. She quickly goes around the back of the establishment as to not be spotted in the front where people might see her and shoo her away. She manages to find a couple of trash cans that stand against the restaurant and jumps onto one of the garbage containers hoping to find some good leftover scrapes. As she peers into the trash the cat gasps in surprise as she finds not only leftover food but a newborn puppy whose eyes were still close. The cat looks around to see if there is a mother dog looking for her lost puppy, she waits for a few moments to see if a mother dog or anyone would come to claim the small dog. As she waits, she realizes that nobody has come searching for a lost puppy. The cat stares at the puppy feeling sympathy for the young dog for how vulnerable and helpless it was. The puppy would definitely not make it through the night without a mother to attend and nurture it. A choice had to be made.

The cat gently smiles at the puppy and begins to feel love for the small dog and carefully picks him up and carries the puppy in her mouth. She quickly and cautiously makes her way home. Meowing at the door to notify her owners. The door slowly opens as she makes her way inside the house. She brings the puppy to her cat bed where a litter of three small kittens laid sleeping peacefully. The mother cat puts the puppy in her litter of kittens and cuddles up next to them, nursing her kittens and the puppy. The cat's owners gasp in surprise as they are shocked to see their cat bring a puppy into the house and put it with the litter of kittens. The owners stood there discussing it amongst themselves and thought it would be a bit odd for a cat to raise a dog, but as they saw the mother cat nursing the puppy and purring happily, they only smiled as their mother cat loved the puppy like her very own and named the dog, Neko. (Japanese for Cat)

As time went on…. The puppy got bigger but instead of taking on the role of a dog, Neko took on the lifestyles of a cat. Neko would meow instead of bark and would purr and jump on furniture just like a cat would. He loved jumping on his owner’s bed and waking them up early in the morning with head rubs and gently paw pats to the face. He’d enjoy playing with a ball of yarn with his kitten siblings and loved to eat fish, and carefully sneak it out of the fridge whenever his owners weren’t looking. He truly was a cat disguised as a dog, who was cared for by those who loved him in a house that was his home, and life couldn’t get any better than this.

On a warm sunny day, Neko’s owners decided it was time for their beloved pets to experience the park. Neko had never been to the park before and became excited to explore a new place. As the family got to the park, Neko and his kitten siblings were in awe of just how big the park truly was. There were so many trees to climb on and a wide-open field to run around in. It truly was an amazing place! There were also other people who brought their dogs to socialize. Neko never saw other dogs before and found them to be very curious. He quickly ran towards a group of dogs who were playing tag and barking with each other. When Neko got close enough to introduce himself to the group of dogs he meowed instead of bark. This sudden event made all the dogs in the park turn their heads and began to laugh. Neko was confused and continue to meow to introduce himself. The other dogs just kept laughing for none of them ever heard of a dog meow before. Neko just stood there in stunned for he didn’t understand why the dogs were laughing at him. Neko’s meowing made everyone laugh at him at the park and it was clear to him now that dogs don’t meow they bark. Neko was so distraught and ashamed that he quickly ran away from the dogs who were laughing at him along with their owners who were also laughing and fled far away from the park that his owners had taken him to. Neko’s mother tried calling out to him, but her meows were so far into the distance that Neko didn’t even hear them.

Neko ran until he couldn’t run no more, until he found himself in an unfamiliar part of the city that was gloomy and clutter with trash. Shame and embarrassment were still filled up inside Neko for he never knew that meowing like a cat would make others laugh at him. Ever since he could remember he was always raised by a cat, who taught him how to meow, purr, and jump on furniture like a feline. This made him so angry, that he was never taught to be a dog or bark like one. Neko vowed to never go home and made up his mind to find his own kind that would teach him how to act like a real dog.

The sun was soon setting and Neko wandered the gloomy streets of the unfamiliar part of the city. The feeling of hunger growl in Neko’s stomach as he continued walking and wishing he could be eating a nice cut of salmon from the fridge or a can of tuna, that his owners would sometimes give him as a treat when he used to be a at home. Home. The place where he would be right now eating a nice warm dinner and laying on his soft pillow bed. Snuggling up with his kitten siblings and slowly dozes off to sleep as his owners’ gentle stroke his head at night. No! He had to shake those memories off he was no longer a resident of that house, he was now free! Free from the place that made him act like a cat. He’s a dog now and was going to become one no matter what!

Neko continue walking trying to find something to eat that would taste just as good as a fish dinner. But nothing sufficed, nothing but trash cans and dumpsters full of garbage, and other rotten compose that didn’t sit too well with Neko’s nose or taste buds when looking through them. Neko sigh and continue walking until he found himself more lost and hungrier when he first came to this part of the city. Neko was as lost as a lost dog could be and the sun was beginning to set which meant it would be night soon. He would be alone in a place that he was not familiar with along with an empty stomach. An overwhelming feeling of fright and regret overtook the dog’s mind, as everywhere he turned looked the same, and not knowing which way would be best to go back home or if he was ever going to see home again. He began to quickly wonder the streets of the unfamiliar part of the city hoping to find a safe place for the night and pray that a miracle will happen in finding his way home.

As Neko walked looking for a shelter for the night, he heard the sound of a dog whimpering nearby. Neko followed the sound and saw another dog inside a vehicle that read “Dog Catcher.” The other dog whimper and softly bark at Neko to let him out and gesture his head to a red button that looked like it opens the door to the vehicle. Neko nods his head and he pushed the button. The door to the vehicle open, freeing the other dog inside. As soon as the other dog was free, a man wearing a nametag that said “Dog Catcher,” saw the other dog get free as well as Neko who pushed the button. The man quickly went into rage and started running after both dogs that were near the vehicle. The other dog bark at Neko to run away, as the man came charging after them with a strange metal pole with a loop on one side of the end in his hands.
Neko and the other dog quickly fled from man known as the “Dog Catcher,” but the man was running just at fast as the dogs. Neko knew if he didn’t do something fast he and the other dog would be caught. Just then, Neko got an idea. Instead of running, Neko could jump and climb on the buildings to escape from the Dog Catcher, it would be just like home, when he would go on top of the furniture. Neko stopped in his tracks and gesture to the other dog to keep running ahead. The Dog Catcher approached Neko and was about to capture him, when Neko suddenly jumped out of the way and made a dash behind the Dog Catcher. The enrage man quickly turn around and started sprinting after Neko. Neko kept running from the man until he turned a corner and found himself in a dead end.

Neko could hear the Dog Catcher getting closer to him. He looked around to see if there was anything he could jump on and saw a garbage dumpster that was standing against a building that he could jump to the roof from, with no hesitation Neko jumped onto the dumpster with catlike reflexes and made his way onto the roof of the building. The Dog Catcher who was very close behind Neko turned the corner to where Neko went into and to his surprise didn’t find the dog that he was chasing after. “That’s impossible! No dog could just disappear like that!!??” thought the Dog Catcher irritated, the man turns around and walk back to his vehicle filled with frustration. Neko only chuckled as he watched from above as the Dog Catcher drove off into the distance. From above the roof, Neko could see the whole city and spotted the park that his owners had taken him to and smiled in relief to know that would be the best place to go to in hoping to find his home again.

Finally feeling safe, Neko jumped down from the roof and reunited with the other dog who came out from behind a park car who had watched everything that went on before the Dog Catcher could spot him. The other dog excitedly ran towards Neko with a gratified and impressive bark. Neko meowed in response but quickly cover his mouth for he knew if he continued meowing he would only be made fun of again, just like in the park. The other dog looked a bit confused but shook his head and gently place a paw on Neko’s head as a sign of friendship. Neko felt so happy to make a friend of his own kind, that he began meowing. The other dog joined him in barking and the two happily walked off together as friends.

As they walked together, the other dog was teaching Neko how to bark for it was clearly obvious that Neko was raised by a cat and needed to know how to be a dog. Neko tried his best to bark but only sounds of a cat came from his mouth which was making him feel a little ashamed and self-conscious about himself and wonder of who he should be. Neko may look like dog but lives the lifestyle of a cat, which in dog's society that’s not okay. A dog must be a dog and if Neko couldn’t bark what kind of animal was he? Neko kept wondering about this and could feel himself falling into despair of how he would never be able to live life as a real dog if he sounded like a cat?

The other dog grew concern as he watched Neko become depressed and patted Neko’s head for reassurance. The other dog was patient and gently smile at Neko to let him know that everything was going to be okay. Feeling reassured, Neko and the other dog continue their walk as the other dog kept teaching Neko how to bark. The sun had finally set and it was already dark in the unfamiliar part of the city. Neko’s stomach began to growl again and remember that he still hadn't eaten yet. The other dog heard Neko’s stomach and gently laugh, he knew a place where they could stay and could get something to eat and started gesturing to Neko to follow him. Neko nodded and soon began to follow the other dog. Neko only took a few steps into following the other dog before suddenly hearing a familiar cat meow. Neko quickly turn around to see his mother, the cat who took him in when he was a young puppy. She had been looking for him since he ran away from the park and was finally able to find him again. Neko was so happy to see her that he quickly rushed toward her. The mother cat did the same thing but was quickly stopped when the other dog that Neko was following got between them.

The mother cat stood in terror as the other dog started to growl at her. The other dog bared his teeth and fangs with intention to hurt the mother cat. Neko meowed to get the other dog’s attention to stop but the other dog just turned his head and gestured to Neko to join him in attacking his mother. The other dog turns his head back to the mother cat with a raging glare at her and starting to pounce on her. Neko quickly pushed the other dog away from his mother before he could get to her. This caught the other dog off guard and glared at Neko as he saw him protect the cat that was behind him. This confuse the other dog for it didn’t makes any sense for a dog and cat to be friends, especially family. Neko suddenly knew that this wasn’t right, if this what it meant to be a dog then he didn’t want to be one that would hurt others. Both Neko and the other dog growled at each other, the other dog lowered his stance and quickly charge at Neko. Neko stood his ground and with a deep breath open his mouth and…

Bark!!!!!!

It was the loudest sound that anybody could hear that it shook the whole city. The other dog stopped in his tracks in stood in fear for he never heard a bark that loud and powerful before. Neko hissed at the other dog like a cat and began to open his mouth again to let out another loud sounding bark. But the other dog quickly turns around and runs away, whimpering as he fled the scene. Neko took a sigh of relief and turn around to face his mother. He was filled with shame and regret for running away and didn’t know if she would ever forgive him. The mother cat just smiles gently and walked towards her son, rubbing her head on his face and begins purring. The mother cat was just happy to find him safe and sound. Neko was filled with happiness and begin to purr too. Neko finally knew who he was, a dog that was raised by cat who love him for him. Neko and his mother finally left the unfamiliar part of city and made their way back home where the rest of Neko’s family waited for him. Everyone was over filled with joy when Neko finally return home and hug him tightly, while his kitten siblings purred in delight. He truly was a dog who had the heart of a cat, who was cared for by those who loved him in a house that was his home, and life couldn’t be any better than this.

Outside the home, a vehicle that read “Dog Catcher,” passed by with the other dog that Neko had befriended, laid down inside with despaired as the Dog Catcher drove off in the distance.

Then End

**Nathan Garcia** · 10-06-2024, 01:13 PM

Nathan Garcia

Blind Traitor

Closing my door to my room, I ensure I have my sword holstered properly on my back and my books all accounted for as I ready myself for another day of training at the sword training school. Looking from myself, my head turns up to the dimly lit hallway, the dark browns of the hallway and the interior of the house as a whole have given me a sense of comfort, a transition from the peaceful tranquilities of rest and reprieval from my room to the activities and predictable constants of the outside. I turn my head and see the door of my fathers room, it closed and nearly blended with the hallway itself. Turning my head left , taking a deep breath, my movements through the hallway refocus my mind. I go down the hall, the hall itself is short, and the path once the walls of the hall end goes to the entrance of the house, with the hallways walls acting as a portal from the simplicity of going to or from our rooms to the open space, and at the center, where the only place the hallway walls cannot mask is the entrance door to the house. The twin arching doors dwarf any other within the confines of this house.

When I step out of the enclosed hallway, it feels as though a sense of freedom and decision has returned. Still walking as looking to my left, lies the living room, sofas and chairs all facing each other, merging at the center where a circular low table sit, the table itself holding decor to fill the empty space, giving life and unity to the otherwise dullness surrounding the living room, and a chandelier hanging above illuminating the space with an inviting white brightness, its beauty exaggerated from the well decorated walls, paintings hanging on the walls to kill the lifelessness when combined with many shelves holding books, smaller paintings, and minor decorations. Turning my head right, lies the dining room and kitchen, the dining table lay closest to the door, with the kitchen nearest to the hallway. The kitchen itself has little special outside of being the most well lit. A firewood stove and cupboards holding much of what we need for cooking. It only having some paintings on the walls to provide a sense of comfort, everything is against the wall, with a small island to serve as a barrier from the kitchen to the rest of the house, finally turning to the dining table it is nearly as well decorated as the living room, though the light illuminating the dining table is more basic, and the table only holding condiments and other necessities for eating. The sight of it all brings a smile to my face, thinking of memories past of sitting with friends and family.the beauty of it is in the connections made, a smile forms quickly on me before I return my focus straight, I make a stop at the door.

I take a deep breath, mentally preparing myself for the day which lies ahead of me. However, just as I begin to push on the door before a cough cuts into my ears, my body freezes for a moment, before I turn to the source which is behind me, where the hallway is. When I turn, I see my father, curiosity fills my mind, the light from the hallway showing a silhouette of him as he is leaning on the wall, I cannot see his face, which makes it impossible for me to know his intent. I begin to walk towards him with a casual yet puzzled demeanor, he too walks towards me. When we stop I see a hood being held on his hand, he hands it to me, I look confused, why would I need to wear a disguise? I have been wandering around this town for years with little worry, constantly he reminds me, showing me that tattoo, the circle with two triangles forming the shape of a star, an eye in the center of it all, the blackness of it. He never explained to me why he got that tattoo. Rejecting his ‘demand’, I shake my head, most times he would either relent or protest, rarely had he escalated it to where I was forced to wear the ugly hood. However on this day he chose to escalate. Forcing me to adorn its fabrics, I put it on to appease his lust for my secrecy, the hood covering the sword on my back, covering the beauty of my head and face is already an affront, but to hide the sword of my family? It filled my mind with disdain, I had faked a smile, he seemed returning a genuine one as I quickly left.

Once I closed the door I took off the hood, giving a mischievous smile, my mind had set itself on its objective. No more shall I suffer this disgusting hood. Walking quickly I begin my quick walk to the school, with the intent of making a quick stop to rid the hood from my person. Turning left from the entrance door, I began walking through the old streets. The day is bright and blue, presenting me the new day houses resembling those made from medieval times, with a few brick buildings with some stone structures also dotting the city itself. When I reach the intersection of the street, I quickly turn right heading to continue my education and training.

In spite of the Son’s assurance to himself, a being covered in robes is watching him, part of his robes take time to return to covering his hand, a symbol identical to the one attached to the Father, with a red hue is seen before it is covered. The robed man looks at the back of the son, the sword is all too familiar to them, taking a moment to look at their own to confirm lay to rest all suspicion, the sword he adorns is identical to the one the son has equipped on his journey to his sword training school. The robed man redirects his focus from himself to where the son had just appeared from, looking at the door, he, alongside several other robed men, walked towards the house.

Walking straight, I keep my eyes peeled attentive to every subtle shift of lighting, every movement, looking for anything that would allow me to rid of the hood, it was not long before a small and deserted alleyway presented itself to me, on the left side of the street was where it was, moving towards there, I quickly threw it as far as I could, satisfaction grew over me as I resumed my walk. The school itself was not far from the alleyway, I headed inside to begin my long, predictable day of lessons.

When the classes had ended the sun was already setting, I was eager to return to my home. The journey back was eventless, opening the door and entering, I felt a sense of peace wash over me. After entering, I closed the door and locked it, since neither me nor my father would be leaving the house, and we were not expecting anyone.

However, when I turned around and looked up, the once organized and proud home was wasted. The bright lights were gone, with only a few dim lights remaining to indicate anything was there. Books were scattered around, paintings trashed and destroyed. Before I could even comprehend what was going on, I heard a distant, distinctive chant. Dread filled me as I looked at the source of where the sound was coming from: My fathers room. His door slightly ajar, an unmistakable sinister red hue spilling into the now dark hallway, the dim light which once illuminated the hallway alone no longer present. My movements started off slow, but as the chanting continued, I found myself rapidly accelerating and stopping at the door. My heart was racing, fear had overtaken me, I slowly crept up and looked through the gap between the door and the doorframe. Time seemed to stop in that moment as I saw my own father in the center of a ritual, 2 men fully robed holding him down as the rest continued their chanting. I am in such shock that I cannot let a single thought finish before moving on to the next. The only thing that breaks the thoughts is a loud bang, my body shakes in surprise and worry as I look to see the door which I had closed and locked was trying to be broken down, the only thought that crossed my mind was more of these cultists attempting to enter. Had they known that I was the son of the father? Were they to kill me? Force me to become a servant? Were they really cultists or concerned citizens? I could not chance opening the entrance door, I redirected myself to the ritual, which had come to an end. My father lay on the ground as the cultists watched.

*BANG* is the sound that echoes once again, but this time, it captures more than just my attention as I turned to look back at the entrance door with such a stunned recklessness that the door opened slightly more, the cultists, which were so focused on the ritual, had also heard the bang, they directed their attention to the door of the fathers room, by the time I looked back, I saw the cultists converging on me, I began to back away, looking back at my father, I saw him get up and look at my direction, his eyes now changed to a red hue, similar to the ones these robed men had on their own eyes, and for the briefest of moments, I saw his tattoo, what once was black and lifeless had a red color to it. I did not have time to dwell on it, they began to chase after me, I closed the door to buy myself the slightest of more time. In my panic I had forgotten that the entrance door was being broken down, just before I could reach the door itself however, whoever was trying to enter had finally worn down the door, its wooden structure breaking as a robed cultist entered. He first saw his other cultists running before looking at me, he quickly brought his sword out and swung it. I instinctively did the same, our swords met for a split second, but he was clearly more trained and skilled than I, due to him being more trained and physical, when our sword touched, the instability of my swing combined with the momentum of both of our swords caused us to stumble back, and my sword had broken apart at the blade, I stood for a half second, stunned, before he took another swing at me. Using my smaller size, I was able to barely dodge his assault as I ran through the broken door.

Running as fast as I could, I looked for the first place that could mask my escape, my mind was too focused on survival for me to think about anything else. As I ran, I saw the same alleyway that I had thrown away my hood, desperate, I entered and hid, I heard rapid footsteps approach me before they grew quieter. I knew this was all of my doing, had I worn the hood, I would have gone to a peaceful home, instead I now lay at the same place that I threw the one thing that would have spared me. Deciding to take this grim fate, I put on the hood, then leaving the alleyway, looking both ways, I saw no signs of life, the empty and dark streets, no sign of any cultist, likely running after a ghost, I started to make my escape from the city.

**B.Rocha** · 10-06-2024, 06:33 PM

To Each Their Own

[Nostalgic. The best word a girl of nine could come up with to describe it. Wondering the amber lit halls, she explored the dust-covered shelves and busy walls. Her grandfather’s house was an amalgamation of the many lives he had lived thus far in less than a century. Suddenly, a crinkled, yellowed Polaroid of a young woman catches her attention. The girl recognizes the features of her grandmother; same nose, same thin tweezed brows and dimpled cheeks. “It must be her!”, the girl thinks to herself, and decides to find her grandfather and present him with the photo. She finds him in the kitchen, seated comfortably at the table and palming a fresh beer. His dog, Buster, sits on the floor next to his seat, and the two enjoy the hazy afternoon sun against their shoulders. He smiles peacefully as he ruffles the fur on Busters’ neck, who enjoys the attention. The girl scurries into a chair opposite him, slides him the photo, and settles herself with excitement at the prospect of hearing a new story.

Focusing the image into view, the grandfather scans the image. After a brief moment of study, the grandfather lets out a chuckle, as though recalling something. Delighted by his reaction to the photo, the girl shifts in anticipation. Buster, content with his moment of attention, circles and sniffs the floor before sitting on all fours to lay. He ends his shuffling with a sigh, and finalizes his position with a single, pronounced ‘toot’ of a fart. And with a sigh of composure and a swish of fresh beer, the grandfather settles back into his chair, photo still in hand, and begins his tale. ]

It is 1974 in the outskirts of south Vietnam, and the grandfather is twenty-two years old again. Gunships and utility helicopters buzz around the camp. The grandfather stands in the heart of a cluster of soldiers. Weapons lids are being shut, camp doors are being closed, file cabinets are hauled into awaiting loading bays. ‘Going home’, he thinks, sighing in muffled thrill. The midday sun beats down on his face as he awaits the shrill shriek of their sergeants' whistle that signals the vacancy of a new airlift. Per the atmosphere, countless beers are passed amongst the crowd, along with hoots and hollers of going home anticipation. He scans the remnants of the camp, the terrain of jungle, and charred landscape. Peeking through the breakage of bodies lined up behind him, he notices someone off to the side on their lonesome. Patting his GI buddies adjacent to him, they collectively inspect the lone soldier, leaning in unison for a better look.

A soldier stands unaccompanied, adjacent to stacks of large utility boxes. Disheveled and silent, they look out at the horizon with downcast eyes, a miserable frown on their face. Their body slouches in a manner so despondent it makes the grandfather feel sorrowful for him. Occasionally, their body twitches as though jolted. ‘What could be up with that guy?’, the grandfather wonders. Unbeknownst to him, his buddies share a quick knowing glance at each other before swiftly turning the grandfather around to face the opposite direction. Confused, the grandfather attempts to turn back, before being turned around. And once more, and again. Angered, he begins to open his mouth to question them when suddenly, the cry of the whistle fills the air, and the crowd and his buddies displace the grandfather's position in a rush.

After a sequence of shuffling and clangor onto the carrier, all the soldiers rush to find an open seat and the grandfather is shouldered around. Finally, his view opens to a lone seat for one and he grins in relief. Until he spots the figure seated as his neighbor. It is the soldier from before, the unfamiliar, sad soldier. Their back is turned to the carrier wall, where a small window offers a view of the Vietnam scenery. Their face is buried into the sleeve of their uniform, but every now and then the same twitch shocks their body unprovoked. The grandfather seats himself next to them and makes conversation with his other surrounding GI’s. For a time, the ride is smooth and trouble free. The cabin is filled with the hum of overlapping voices and the windows along the carrier provide most of the lighting as the overhead bulbs are dim.

Noticing the strangers' detached behavior, the surrounding soldier's look to the grandfather, and with nodding heads and whispered prods of encouragement, nominate him to be the first to engage. He decides on a shoulder tap, to which there is no response. He looks to his buddies on what to do next, and they nod to try again. Persisting, the grandfather leans closer and taps until finally, the stranger twitches and turns to face the cabin. Their face is sunken and unmoving, and they do not react beyond moving their eyes in slow succession to the surrounding faces. No one addresses the soldier except for the grandfather, who gestures with a wave of his arm an invitation to join the conversation. The soldier only stares blankly into his face. The grandfather extends his hand to him in offering of a handshake. The stranger looks down to his hand, disinterested, and with a twitch of their body, stiffly turns away into their original concealed position. Disappointed at the result of their encounter, the soldiers turn to one another and return to their previously fixed hum of discussion and banter.

Intent to communicate with the stranger, he reaches into his uniform jacket, pulls out a bundle of polaroids and shuffles through them. Finally, he finds it, her. Everything about her image felt like home, ‘This would be perfect!’, he thinks to himself. Tapping his shoulder again, the stranger turns arthritically in his direction once more. Putting on a friendly face, the grandfather shows him her image. Surprisingly, the stranger examines her photo and leans their body closer as the grandfather begins shuffling through his other photos. The stranger remains silent, hyper focused on the slideshow. With the stranger's attention occupied, the grandfather turns his head to the cabin proudly, but no one in his radius notices. He makes eye contact with one of his buddies across the carrier, though, who looks to the strange soldier, then the grandfather, and shakes his head ‘No’.

The grandfather quickly hides his face of confusion as he sees the strange soldier straightening, and his buddy turns to another crowd and pretends to join in on the conversation. To the grandfather's amazement, the strangers' face contorts into a toothy, leering smile and they reach into their pant pocket, pulling out a thick stack of photos wrapped in rubber bands. Excitedly, they shove the mass of photos in the grandfather's open hands and watch him remove the bands from the stack in anticipation. Pleased at the rapport he had built with the strange soldier, the grandfather shares in their excitement as he removes the final band and inspects the first image. The grandfather lets out a quickly stifled scream. His eyes widen and jaw hangs ajar.

[Buster lets out a whine of shock looking up at the grandfather from his spot. Buster’s mouth hangs ajar and the grandfather, hearing Buster, looks over his chair handle to see the dog's expression. He inspects Buster's face and then shifts his gaze to his granddaughter, who shares the same expression. Buster now moves and hops onto the granddaughters' lap and the two share the same wide eyed, bewildered expression as they look at the grandfather. Breaking the stillness, the two begin a synchronized slow blink.]

Reopening his eyes from a blink as he processes what he sees, the lighting in the carrier seems to darken and the hum of talking is replaced by a ringing in his ears. The stranger studies his reaction as he shuffles to the other photos. Each image is worse than the last. Panicked, the grandfather meets the strangers' gaze and poorly fakes a smile of approval. The stranger chuckles in excitement, buying his response, and slides closer to the terrified grandfather to view the photos alongside him. The grandfather lets out a whimper as the stranger puts their arm around him and leans them both closer to the photos in his lap. Ignorant of the rest of the world, the stranger admires their photos, letting out sighs of admiration. To the grandfather's dismay, attempts to capture the other soldier's attention prove fruitless. Busy in their own dialogues, the soldiers pay him no mind as his smothered ‘cacaws’ and ‘psst’ murmurs go unnoticed. The grandfather tries to scoot his foot to reach and nudge a neighboring soldier, but he swiftly plays off the motion as the stranger notices. Ultimately the grandfather plays to the mannerisms of the stranger and accelerates his shuffle speed through the photos, matching their ‘ooos’ and ‘ahhs’ as he rushes to finish the stack.

Once the final image was reached, he rewraps the photos quickly before practically shoving the bundle back into the stranger's lap and fakes a smile of thanks. The soldier now returns to his position facing the window with an unsettlingly giddy disposition. Now from their view, the grandfather straightens himself back into his seat and scans the carrier. His buddy from across the way meets his gaze with a ‘told you so’ expression before letting out a laugh. The grandfather tilts his head with an ‘oh really’ expression on his face and rises from his seat and walks over to his buddy. The buddy realizes what he is going to do and feebly resists as the grandfather displaces his friend, seats him next to the strange soldier, and takes their seat across the carrier. As his buddy intently glares at him, the grandfather, pleased with his new company, is handed a beer. And with a ‘cheers’ raise of his bottle, drinks triumphantly as his buddy now endures the rest of the flight with the strange soldier.

Holding the photo of her in hand, he downs the last of his beer and lets out a satisfied sigh. What happened to him that flight shaped the way he would approach people for years to come. As he had learned, sometimes allowing everyone’s preferences to simply be, can save your life. He looks up at his granddaughter once more, Buster and her cling to each other and remain in their frozen state of shock. Putting on a blank face, the grandfather pauses until suddenly letting out a single twitch in the manner of the soldier. The granddaughter and Buster let out a scream and yelp in terror. The grandfather lets out a hearty laugh and begins to rise from his seat while sliding her back the photo. Coming to her seat, he places a quick kiss to her head, still chuckling, and begins his walk away with the snap of a freshly opened beer. With her and Buster watching him exit whilst he hums a tune, the two look at the image of her grandmother on the table. The two share a look with one another. And so, her photo is fastened back into place on a wall of photos, in an open gap where she initially resided, by a paw and a human hand.

**dogma2026** · 10-07-2024, 04:17 PM

Roger Gonzales Jr

The Early Hours

The world was ensconced in the heavy stillness of night when twenty-year-old Daniel awoke to the soft chime of his alarm clock. The digits blinked 3:00 AM, casting a pale, ghostly glow across his small, cluttered room. Shadows danced along the walls, flickering like memories just out of reach. Outside, the distant hum of the city created a low, rhythmic murmur, a reminder that life continued beyond the confines of his solitude. Swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, he felt a sudden chill creep under the cracked window, brushing against his skin like a ghostly whisper, awakening a sense of unease.

Pulling on a worn jacket that had seen better days, Daniel grabbed his half-empty thermos of black coffee and a crumpled pack of cigarettes from the nightstand. This was his routine: fighting against the weight of fatigue to make his way to the diner where he worked the graveyard shift. As he stepped outside, the flickering streetlights cast an eerie, hazy orange hue on the sidewalk, illuminating the world with a muted glow. The air was crisp, almost biting, and he could see his breath swirl in front of him like smoke escaping from a dying fire.

The streets were deserted, save for the occasional rustle of leaves that danced in the breeze. Daniel walked briskly, the sound of his boots tapping against the pavement echoing softly in the stillness of the early morning. Each step felt heavy with anticipation, yet the warmth of the coffee seeped into his hands, providing a brief comfort against the biting cold.

As he approached the bus stop, he paused to light a cigarette, the flame flickering briefly before settling into a steady glow. The bus stop was a simple structure, featuring a metal bench that had weathered countless storms. The paint was chipped, revealing patches of rust beneath, while the glass shelter was smeared and streaked, reflecting the dim light like a faded memory. A small, flickering bulb above buzzed softly, casting shadows that danced along the walls, adding an almost haunted quality to the scene. He leaned against the cool metal frame, feeling the chill seep through his jacket, and took a moment to savor the quiet solitude.

Then, from the corner of his eye, he noticed a figure in white standing at the far end of the street. It was just a silhouette at first, but as he squinted, he could make out the outline of a person. A flicker of curiosity stirred within him, quickly overshadowed by an unsettling sense of foreboding.

Taking another drag from his cigarette, he set it down in the ashtray at the bus stop and began walking toward the figure. His heart quickened with each step. As he crossed the street, the figure did the same, mirroring his movement. For a moment, he thought it was just a trick of the light, but with each step he took, the figure followed him, crossing the street again.

“What the hell?” he muttered under his breath, an uneasy knot tightening in his stomach.

He continued to walk, crossing the street once more. The figure mirrored him again, and the rhythm felt surreal, almost choreographed. He paused, confusion swirling in his mind. Was this some strange hallucination? A ghost? The thought was absurd, yet it clung to him like a shadow he couldn’t shake off.

With each step closer, he could see the figure more clearly. It seemed to glide rather than walk, and as he neared, he noticed something unsettling: there was no face, no features—just a smooth expanse where a visage should be. Panic gripped him, tightening like a vice around his chest.

“Good morning,” he said, his voice trembling as he finally closed the distance.

But the figure didn’t respond. Instead, it drifted beside him, almost brushing against him until they were shoulder-to-shoulder. Daniel turned, his heart pounding in his chest, ready to confront whatever this was. That’s when he noticed the feet—or the lack thereof. The figure was completely ungrounded, floating just above the pavement.

Fear ignited within him, burning away any trace of curiosity. He dropped his coffee thermos, the metal clattering against the ground, spilling the dark liquid across the sidewalk. The cigarette, forgotten, rolled away into the night.

Daniel bolted. He ran faster than he ever thought possible, the world around him blurring into a chaotic mix of color and sound. The streetlights flickered as he dashed past, his breath coming in sharp, frantic gasps. The cracked pavement and worn asphalt beneath his feet felt like a sinister echo of his racing thoughts.

He didn’t stop until he reached the diner, bursting through the door, heart racing and eyes wide. The familiar scents of frying bacon and brewing coffee enveloped him like a warm embrace, momentarily quelling the storm churning inside.

Inside, the diner was a sanctuary of warmth and light, a stark contrast to the chilling encounter outside. Neon signs buzzed softly, casting vibrant reds and blues across the room, while the scent of freshly brewed coffee and sizzling bacon wrapped around him, pulling him into the comforting chaos. The atmosphere was rich with the blend of chatter and clattering dishes, the hum of conversation punctuated by bursts of laughter.

Worn vinyl booths lined the walls, their colors faded but inviting, and the counter gleamed with polished chrome. A jukebox in the corner played soft, nostalgic tunes, creating an ambiance that felt almost timeless. As Daniel settled onto a stool at the counter, he found himself observing the regulars—faces etched with stories, each absorbed in their own worlds. The cook, a burly man with a friendly smile, flipped pancakes with the precision of an artist, while the waitress, with her playful banter and warm demeanor, moved effortlessly between tables.

This experience profoundly shifted Daniel's perspective on life. The encounter with the faceless woman lingered in his mind, a haunting reminder of the fragility of existence. He had always navigated life through a lens of routine—his job, his friends, the familiar streets. But now, the shadows felt deeper, the light more precious.

What does it mean to truly see someone? he pondered, sipping his coffee. The darkness of the night had revealed a truth he couldn’t ignore: life was unpredictable, with moments that could change everything in an instant. The mundane he’d taken for granted now seemed imbued with significance.

The bus stop, the diner, the streets—they all transformed in his mind. They became places of potential, where the extraordinary could hide just beneath the surface. Daniel felt a new urgency to embrace life, to seek the stories hidden in every face he passed and to confront the fears that had held him back.

As he left the diner that morning, the dawn casting golden rays across the horizon, Daniel felt a spark of hope igniting within him. He stepped out into the daylight, the shadows of the night receding. The world was vast, filled with mysteries waiting to be uncovered. This was just the beginning.

**Aaliyah Mickle** · 10-07-2024, 07:59 PM

Aaliyah Mickle

Deep Breaths

The bedroom was still, peaceful. The night had faded into the purple and orange hues of morning as the world began to wake. A soft breeze fluttered through the half-open window, carrying the gentle cooing of mourning doves. The light humidity of the air fought off the cold bite of the night. Soft rays of sunlight streamed in, saturating the room with a warm, inviting glow—the kind of light that felt like a whisper, gently brushing over everything it touched. The space glowed faintly, as if still half-asleep.

Emma lay spread-eagle beneath her comforter, completely at peace, lost in the world of dreams. One arm hung over the bed and a foot peaked out from under the blanket creating the perfect balance of hot and cold in her sleep. Emma could feel the sunlight on her face as it made the backs of her eyelids glow a soft red. Her chest rose and fell slowly, the only movement in an otherwise tranquil scene. A puddle of drool had collected near the corner of her mouth on the pillow as she snoozed on. The birds seemed to sing just for her, as if they knew she needed this calm. It was as if the chaos of the world had paused, just for her.

And then, the alarm clock pressed play.

A blaring, obnoxious sound sliced through the serenity like an off-key trumpet solo. Emma’s tranquility soured immediately. Her slumber interrupted as if she didn't have the premium ad-free plan on her own dreams. Her face scrunched tighter and tighter with each BEEP BEEP BEEP. She flung her arm out to silence the beast, but her hand smacked hard onto the empty nightstand beside her. At some point in the night, her arm had fallen asleep causing waves of needle-like static to pulse through her hand with each impact.

Where’s the damn alarm?

She groped blindly, slapping the surface of the nightstand in a panic, but all she hit was air and wood. The high-pitched shrillness continued, unabated, as if the universe were laughing in her face.

Oh, come on!

Finally, her hand found the clock on the opposite nightstand, where she never remembered putting it. Without hesitation, she slammed it off with an exasperated grunt. Some part of her was afraid she might have broken the clock. Another part of her was hoping she had. Silence, blessed silence, returned, but it was far too late. Emma sat upright in her bed, glaring at the defeated alarm, breathing hard, her pulse still racing from the rude awakening.

I could throw that clock out the window. Would anyone blame me?

But no, violence is not the answer. Once she was up, she was up, and there was no going back to sleep now. She took a moment to sit and disassociate in bed. She hadn't realized how much her powder blue duvet reminded her of the ocean. Waves crashing into a white foamy mist. She could hear the lapping of waves. It grew louder and louder in her ear. The crashing of imaginary waves turning into a numbing white noise in her mind's eye. That's enough of that for today. Emma dragged herself upright, the peaceful glow of the sun now an alluring vixen tempting her to return to the comfort below the blanket. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. Remember, deep breaths.

With deliberate effort, she plastered a painfully exaggerated smile across her face. It didn’t feel convincing—not to her, anyway. "How do news anchors do this for a living?" she wondered as the cheesy grin already made her cheeks hurt.

"Good morning, world," she thought, her inner voice thick with sarcasm.

She shuffled toward the bathroom, her feet landing on the cold hardwood floor with a soft thud. The room, once bathed in gentle morning light, now felt like an enemy—too bright, too cheerful, too everything. It made her head ache. The cool, stale air of her apartment sent an unpleasant shiver up her spine. The kind of shiver that makes you have to pee.

The bathroom mirror was no kinder. Her reflection stared back at her—messy hair sticking up in odd directions, pillow creases etched across her cheek like red chicken scratch, and eyes heavy with sleep. She sighed.

"Yeah, that’s the face of someone who’s got it all together," she mused, her reflection offering no encouragement.

Emma splashed water on her face, hoping the coolness would wash away the remnants of sleep clinging stubbornly to her eyelids. Instead, all it left her with was a damp face and the same groggy frustration. Water crept up her forearm causing a familiar discomfort that comes with washing ones face. It was the same kind of discomfort she felt when she stepped on a wet spot with socks on. It made her skin crawl.

Right. This is fine. Today’s gonna be different. Positive energy, right? She forced a smile, but it came out more like a grimace, distorted and tired.

With a sigh, she grabbed a towel and dried her face, catching her reflection in the mirror. Her hair—wild and tangled—looked like it had waged war with her pillow and lost. She didn’t have time for this. She hurried back to the bedroom, where her work uniform lay crumpled at the foot of the bed. It passed a quick sniff test, though it could've used a tumble in the dryer to get out some of the wrinkles. She slipped it on, the fabric cool and familiar against her skin, and returned to the mirror to face the inevitable: the hair.

Emma pulled her hair into a ponytail and began twisting it into a bun, but it refused to cooperate. Strands sprang free, rebelling against her attempts at order. She tugged harder, twisting the hair tie around, only to have it snap under the strain. She managed to find another hair tie and tried again only for it to tangle around her index finger. The result? A lopsided bun, more reminiscent of a saggy bird’s nest than anything remotely professional.

She stared at her reflection, lips tight. Okay, we’re not losing it over hair.

As she was about to give her bun one last adjustment, her phone buzzed from the bathroom counter, almost vibrating itself off the ledge. Thankfully she caught it before any real damage could be done, but she felt a familiar sense of dread as she looked at the screen. The alarm showed she was officially late.

You’ve got to be kidding me. Panic hit like a wave, but there was no time to indulge it. She still hadn’t brushed her teeth. She grabbed her toothbrush, squeezing the old tube of toothpaste with determined frustration. It let out a reluctant wheeze, offering the bare minimum—just enough to spread across the bristles. Well, most of them anyway.

In her rush, the toothbrush slipped from her fingers. The tiny dollop of toothpaste sailed through the air, landing squarely on the front of her uniform. Emma froze, staring down at the minty blue smear.

Her eye twitched. Heat flooded her cheeks, frustration boiling up from somewhere deep inside. For a split second, she considered ripping off her uniform and moving to a cabin in the woods. Bears wouldn’t care about toothpaste stains, right? I could even live toothpaste free, scrubbing my molars with maple leaves or something. But instead, she clenched her jaw, took a shaky breath, and muttered, Deep breaths. Deep breaths.

She wiped at the stain with her hand—pointless, of course—and tossed the toothbrush onto the counter. It wasn’t perfect, but she couldn’t afford to let this morning get the better of her. Not yet.

With another forced breath and a tighter smile, Emma moved into the kitchen, flipping the switch on the coffee maker as she tossed two slices of bread into the toaster. The rhythmic gurgling of the coffee machine filled the air, mingling with the comforting sounds of birds chirping outside. It was like a hypnotizing ASMR that gave her some sort of comfort. She walked over to the window, leaning against the counter as warm rays of sunlight poured through the glass, casting a golden hue over the room.

For a moment, she just stood there, letting the sunlight wash over her like a soft embrace. The birds flitted about, their cheerful melodies tempting her back to bed. Just five more minutes, she thought dreamily, imagining the crisp sheets and the blissful silence that awaited her.

But just as she began to drift into that cozy fantasy, her phone alarm blared like an angry hornet, jolting her back to reality. She glanced at the screen, her heart sinking—still late.

Panic surged through her as she turned back to the toaster. Thick, acrid smoke curled up from the appliance, the once-promising bread now a charred, blackened disaster. Great. Just great.

Grappling with the toast like it was a hot potato, she fumbled to extract it from the toaster, her fingers dancing dangerously close to the scorching surface. She let out a small yelp, barely managing to drop the offending bread onto a plate before spinning around to salvage the coffee, which had begun to overflow.

As she lunged for the coffee pot, her hand slipped. Coffee erupted from the spout, splattering across her shirt in a dark, steaming wave. Emma froze, staring at the mess in disbelief as the rich aroma of coffee mingled with the burnt toast, creating a symphony of chaos in her kitchen.

For a brief moment, the world tilted. Am I being Punked? Is Ashton Kutcher gonna come out with a camera crew and tell me he's made my morning a living hell? Of course not. She felt the familiar urge to scream into the void. But instead, she clenched her fists, gritted her teeth, and whispered to herself, Deep breaths. Deep breaths.

Emma shook her head as if the bad vibes would fall out her ears. With a steadying breath, she grabbed her bag, and marched toward the door, determined not to let this morning’s calamities win.

She finally headed out to her car, the weight of the morning’s chaos lifting ever so slightly. Today is going to be different, she told herself as she slid into the driver’s seat, setting down her leaky coffee and burnt toast. What could possibly go wrong?

“Just start for me, baby,” she murmured to herself, turning the key in the ignition with a hopeful grin. The engine sputtered, coughed, and then fell silent.

No. Not today. Not today! Her heart raced, but she refused to let despair creep in. She tried again. The same sputter. The same dead silence.

Her eye twitched. Her breathing became heavier. Her face felt red-hot. All her hairs stood on end.

Boom.

She pounded the steering wheel, the sound echoing in the stillness of the morning. Muffled shouts and expletives filled the air, her voice barely discernible through the closed windows. The car shook slightly as she ranted, her hands flailing in frustration. A neighbor walking nearby crossed the street at the sight of this scene.

A lump formed in Emma’s throat as her eyes began to water. She closed her eyes, resting her forehead against the steering wheel in defeat. Everything felt cold and hopeless.

Coo coo.

Emma lifted her head at the sound.

Coo coo.

A mourning dove sat on the hood of her car, seemingly staring into her soul. For a bird, it had a surprisingly warm gaze. They sat there for a second; the stillness of the morning finding its way into the car. It fluttered away, Emma’s eyes following it as it disappeared into the distant sky.

Deep breaths.

A few moments later, she was strapping on her helmet, the snug fit a comforting reminder of her resolve. She swung her leg over the bike, a wave of calm washing over her. With a final glance back at the car, she pedaled off, with a real smile on her face.

**Lgcastro** · 10-07-2024, 10:15 PM

Lourdes Castro

After Hours

It was a dark gloomy night nearing 2 am, the dim glow of the computer screens casting an eerie light over the nearly empty lab. Three sleep-deprived college students hunched over their desks, typing away furiously within the old, creaky building known for its haunted reputation.

Alex, the confident leader of the group, was locked in tapping on her keyboard, her eyes darting between the lines of code on her screen. Right beside her, Ethan a super tall, broad-shouldered jock on the football team. He was fidgeting in his seat continuously glancing nervously at the shadows creeping along the walls. Lastly, Liam, the unbothered programmer, leaned back scrolling lazily through his code with one hand, and on the other hand, a nearly empty Dr. Pepper soda can.

They were in the Old Science Hall, the campus building that was famous for its haunting past. Students often whispered about it, telling tales of the strange occurrences and eerie deaths that have taken place over the decades, but tonight all those stories felt a little too close for comfort. The hum of the computer filled the otherwise silent room until...

THUD!

The sound echoed from the hallway way too loud to be ignored. Ethan’s head immediately snapped up from his work, looking over at Alex for any sort of reassurance. Alex stood up from her chair, her confidence holding steady “Let’s check it out” she said as she motioned towards the door as it appeared to slowly be getting smaller as if they were being trapped within the lab.

Ethan hesitated but he followed, his broad frame casting long shadows as he stepped into the dimly lit hallway, Liam couldn’t care less and stood up letting out a deep sigh, stuffing his hands into his hoodie pockets before following them.

The hallway stretched out before them, quiet except for the occasional creak and flicker of the old fluorescent lights. About halfway down the hall, an old book lay open on the floor. The pages were worn and cracked at the edges. Alex knelt to inspect it, running her fingers along the torn spine. At the top of the opened page “Deaths in the Old Science Hall” written in elegant, faded script.

They felt a chill crawl up their spine. The page listed names, dates, and causes of death. All tied to the very building they stood in. There were over a dozen names that gave details of tragic accidents, faulty labs, fires that took students' lives, students who disappeared, whose bodies were found weeks later. Alex stood up, her face pale, but managed to stay composed. Ethan, who at this point was fully freaked out, and Liam refused to pay any attention

Something felt wrong...

They continued to move down the hall checking each computer lab as they went along. Everything was as still as when they had left, nothing out of the ordinary was to be found. Every door that they opened only revealed the quiet hum of the computers inside and the howling wind outside from the open windows.

There was no sign of anyone of anything out of place. The tension in the air continued to grow thicker, suffocating as if the building itself was holding its breath.

Finishing their search, Alex leads them back towards the lab, passing the elevator at the end of the hall as it suddenly dinged, and the doors slowly slid open. Revealing only the darkness. Without any thought they return to the lab, leaving the elevator behind.

Once back inside the lab, the uneasy atmosphere clung to all of them. Alex resumed her work, her mind continuing to race but staying focused. Ethan shifted in his seat, his nerves increasing as each minute passed. Liam was just as unfazed as ever, tapping away at his keyboard as if nothing had ever happened.

What none of them had noticed was that the shadow had slipped from the elevator when the doors opened, it moved silently clinging along the walls, moving closer and closer to the computer lab. The sinister presence watched them from just beyond the door, patiently waiting.

The deaths in the books were not a myth. They were a warning, the spirit lurking in the elevator was only the beginning of the game.

**hmdavis** · 10-07-2024, 10:31 PM

Hailee Davis

A Shadowy Sketch

In the dark, a man sits quietly in the corner of his bed bundled up in a bunch of blankets, drawing and listening to music with only a phone to illuminate what he is working on. Focused, he jams out to his music making a pretty drawing of some of his family, looking down at it with a sad expression, small tears forming in his eyes as he works.

THUMP.

THUMP.

THUMP.

He jumps in his spot startled and quickly glances up from his sketch, looking around. The room appears to be empty, but without much light it’s hard to tell. He frantically reaches for his phone next to him to flash it around the room.

THUMP.

He jumps and flashes his light at the door, silently waiting for something to happen, terrified of what he just heard. He’s scared and helpless, but after waiting a moment nothing happens. Looking back down at his drawing, he notices that he messed it up when he got scared by the sudden noises, but we never get to really see what the mistakes are. Sighing, he also notices a few notifications on his phone. Checking them, he sees that its from his mom asking if he would want to come out for dinner. There are a few other messages but he decides to quickly brush them away and toss his stuff to the side of his bed to go asleep. As he lays down to get comfortable, he watches out into the dark of the room, checking to see if there was anything. Looking out his window up at the moon, he wipes away the last tear on his face. Then he takes one last look at his drawing, which has a tear between one character and the rest, before eventually falling asleep.

---------------------

As he barely wakes up in the morning, struggling to turn off his alarm on his phone as fast as he can, he hears a slight click of a door closing from across his room, followed by a giggle and faint footsteps running away. He freezes looking around, and doesn’t notice anything out of the blue or abnormal with his phone. He gets shivers down his spine, nervous of something astray. Getting up to look around he still find nothing, not even a person hiding in his closet. He finally looks towards the door, taking a deep breath. Hesitating, he finally decides to grab the door and pull it wide open, as if expecting someone, or something to be there.

The hallway is empty though, except for a faint shadow walking through the entryway down the hall. At first it’s quiet and slow, but as he continues to watch suddenly the big shadow starts to grow rapidly and make loud yells. Panicked, he closes the door and turns away, not wanting to know what is happening in there. Resting against the doorway he starts to hear his phone going off again on the other side of his room.
Walking to his bed, he sees the time and is instantly panicked, grabbing his apron off the side of his desk chair and quickly getting himself ready. He grabs all of his things and before the runs to the door he starts looking for his sketchbook. It’s no where to be found though. He goes through his closet, his bed sheets, under the bed, anywhere that it could possibly be in hopes that he will find it again so he can leave, but he has no luck. Seeing the time tick on, he decides to leave his room without it to head to work.

In the hallway he freezes again just outside his bedroom door, looking down the hallway again. This time there is the sound of whispers, but no sight of the shadowy figure. He slowly walks closer trying to listen in, but suddenly the figure appears in the doorway, so he turns around and leaves out the front door, scared and nervous about who it could be.

------------------

Day turns to night, and he slowly creeps back through the front door, into the now dark hallway. He looks down at the light in the doorway, once again hearing the faint sounds of whispers. Nervous of seeing the figure again, he decides to slide back into his room as fast as he can, visibly exhausted from the long day he just had. He partially slams the door, sliding down the back of it sitting on the floor. He sighs checking his phone seeing all the texts on his phone, but ultimately ignoring them and resting his head back against the door.

THUMP.

THUMP.

THUMP.

The loud sounds coming from his door startle him, and he desperately crawls away from it. The sounds continue for a moment until he gets up onto his, bed sliding into the corner in fear, staring down the door. There's the sound of speaking, but its too muffled to make anything out. Suddenly, the doorknob starts a shake slightly, as if someone is trying to open the door. In a panic, he looks around for something to defend himself with but finds nothing so he tries to hide under the blankets while still watching the door for any sudden movements.

Creeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaakk…

The door slides open, but only partially, showing a small figure standing outside the door. It’s much smaller than the shadows seen before, sparking slight confusion into him. He watches as it pulls out a notebook, and drops it on the floor in the room. A small giggles can he heard before door closes softly, and two sets of footsteps walk away, one much heavier than the other.

Confused by the actions, he slowly sits up and relaxes, trying to see what the notebook was. He focuses and notices it’s his sketchbook so he immediately jumps up to grab it, almost stumbling and falling out of his bed.

He picks up his sketchbook and immediately notices something is different, making him nervous all over again. He flips through every single page looking for any changes as he walks back to his bed, preparing for whatever he may find. The last drawing he was working on of his family, he notices it was carefully put back together, along with an additional child-like doodle scribbled in the corner, with the words “I love my family!” next to it. Sitting down he starts to hear up, crying at the little drawing made on his work. Even the effort of tying to fix it up puts a smile on his face and he looks up at the door with a sad smile.

A phone ding is heard, and he pulls his phone from out of his pocket, now reading all the texts that have been sent to him. It’s all his family, asking how he I s doing and if he would like to hang out sometime, as well as some friends. He sets his phone down and sketchbook, wiping away his tears. He gets up and walks to the door, opening it and stepping out of the hallway. He stares down the hallway, seeing the lights and shadowy figures pouring out from the entranceway.

He takes a deep breath, wiping away his last tear before heading down to the room. He stops for a moment to hesitate, but continues on and looks into the doorway. Sitting there is all of his family, who greets in excitement seeing him there. He walks in to sit on the couch with him, chatting and just having a fun time together. Back in his room, the sounds of music can be heard again, this time a much happier tune as the moonlight from outside his window shines on the sketchbook on the drawing he was making.

**Sen07** · 10-07-2024, 10:48 PM

Yessenia Montalvo

A Fish’s Journey

Kisame is a small vibrant blue and red betta fish, he floats aimlessly in his tiny plastic container with a small food hole right in the center of the lid where they occasionally fed him when they remembered. Every day, he stared up at the food hole, dreaming of what lay beyond it. He had even tried to escape through it once or twice, but each attempt ended in failure. Surrounded by endless rows of other fish in similar prisons. Kisame grew tired, Days blended into weeks as he swam the same small circle, over and over again, unable to stretch his fins fully. The container was too cramped, and the monotony too overwhelming.

Until one day a tall figure walked up to the betta fish display, the figure lingered around looking at all the fish..until he laid eyes on Kisame.

Kisame's heart was pounding. “Maybe today will be the day I finally leave.” As he watched the figure get closer to him, he noticed a displeased look on the stranger's face as it neared him. The stranger tapped on his container and called him weird, droopy looking fish, Kisame’s heart sank. He just floated there lifeless as he watched the figure pick up a vibrant red crowntail betta fish instead.

Each day brought the same routine: strangers pressed their faces and fingers against the plastic walls of his world, tapping and shaking the container to make him move. Kisame hated that. Couldn’t they see that he didn’t want to move? Or perhaps he simply couldn’t anymore. He was tired, both of body and spirit, and the curiosity, excitement, and vibrant color he once had were slowly fading away. People would point and stare at him, commenting on his fading colors.

Through the glimpses beyond the store entrance, longing fills him as he watches the seasons change. He felt the pull of a bigger, more beautiful world. But with each passing day, that world seemed further away, his dreams dissolving into the dull reality of his plastic prison.

Then, on a calm July afternoon, something changed. The store was quiet, as it always was, and Kisame was lost in his thoughts of open water and freedom when he noticed a young couple approaching.

He didn't dare get his hopes up—they were likely just browsing like everyone else. But as they came closer, something stirred within him. They were looking at him, not just glancing, but really looking at him with warm jubilant faces. For the first time since the tall figure, Kisame felt a spark of excitement. His heart raced, and he decided to give a little flutter, showing off his long, dulled colored fins. Maybe, just maybe, this time would be different.

He heard two excited voices talking to each other while they looked at him. Before Kisame could process what was happening, his container was lifted from the shelf. He could feel the warmth of their hands as they held him, and for the first time in what felt like forever, the world outside his little box began to move. But this time, it wasn’t the usual routine of being shaken or poked at. This was different. The soft sounds of the couple’s conversation surrounded him, and with every step they took, Kisame's sense of hope grew. He didn’t know where they were taking him, but he knew it was far away from the store. After what seemed like an eternity, Kisame found himself in a new place. The lid of his container opened—something that had rarely happened before—and fresh air filled the space around him. Confused, as he was gently poured into something much larger and warmer than his old container. The moment he entered the new water, he felt a rush of disorientation but also something else…a sense of freedom.

He swam cautiously, his fins adjusting to the new space. Everything was so different. Large green plants swayed in the water, smooth pebbles lined the floor, and bubbles shimmered in one corner of the tank. This place was enormous compared to his old home, where he could barely stretch his fins. “Could this actually be real? “ Had he finally left the store and container behind? The thought scared and excited him all at once. “What now?”

Kisame darted through the plants exploring every corner of his new world. Kisame had finally found the freedom he had longed for. His fins flowed gracefully through the water, and for the first time, he felt truly alive. This new world was everything he had dreamed of and more. No longer confined to the small, dull container, Kisame had space to swim, explore, and live as he was meant to. His new tank wasn’t just a bigger box—it was a place where his fins could stretch. And as he swam through his new home, Kisame knew that he had finally found what he had been searching for all along: freedom, and a new beginning.

**Ashton koranek** · 10-07-2024, 11:02 PM

Ashton Koranek

The tale of Todd

You walk around a city and hear the sounds of cars people yelling and even the distinct sound of people working construction and that's where our story begins.

In this Construction site their is this a manager named Todd who is known for his engineering prowess and massive feats in the world of engineering. He developed me places that stand the test of time threw natural disasters whether they are a tornado sweeping the land or a flood coving the ground in rushing water.

Todd lived a happy life yes but after doing engineering for so long he felt as though he was missing something in life that he wanted to help the world. He thought about it often as it would keep him up at night. He thought about how he had everything he ever wanted a nice house and steady job doing what he is good at and even recognition from his peers as someone worthy of looking up too.

Even after all this talk he couldn't figure out why he just felt so lost and misguided in life like he was missing something.

He did this for years going back and forth back and forth trying his hardest to figure it out till one day while pondering his situation in his living room a news reel comes on his TV.

BREAKING NEWS

A mad scientist going by the name Dr.Crane has send a video to every major news outlet showing and testing his chemistry skills and developed a bomb capable of taking down a whole building in just one explosive.

Todd hearing the broadcast and the power of the bombs was scaring hopelessly about the idea of one of his building blowing.

But just as he was getting ready to call people to make sure everything was safe he hears a sound coming from his bed room. He walks over with a bat ready to attack any home invaders scared that it could be the mad scientist when he spotted what looked like a person from the side of his eye he swung.

BAM

Then he swung again

WHAP

then one more time to make sure he was safe

BANG

he knew he got it for sure and when he opened his eyes from swinging he spots what was making the noise. A ghost of some sort.

Todd drops to his feet scared when the ghost walks to him and puts his arm our for a handshake. Todd shakes the ghosts hand quivering in fear. When the ghost points at a image on the wall of his great great grandfather posing next to it to show that is was him.

Todd eases up a little bit and wonders why his great great grandfather is their when the ghost points at the TV showing why he had come to help Todd.

The ghost is able to tell todd that he is here to help him defeat Dr.Crane as is his family duty.

Todd after figuring out his family duty springs to action and is ready to prepare.

The ghost then walks to Todd giving him powers that would let him leap tall building and the strength of 1000 men.

After the ghost does that he fades out into the air as if he was never their.

Todd not knowing if everything that has happened is one big dream goes to pinch himself and ends up throwing himself across his room not prepared for his new found strength. Todd convinced now across the room that everything was real starts to ease into his newfound strength.

He starts with lifting the table as if it weighed nothing. Then the fridge still felt light and even the couch as if it was a feather. He started to go bigger he ran outside and lifted his car. After his shows of strength he was satisfied with the new power given to him.

He started to run into his house jumping over a bush just to find out he is able to jump really high and his full power sending him miles into the sky. screaming on his way down till he hits the ground not a scratch on him.

He thought himself invincible he was ready to take on that Dr. Cross no matter what he had to throw at him.

The next few days he would walk around the city looking for anyone who looked suspicious.

On the 4th day he spotted a man with a box that he ended up leaving on the side of the building before running away full speed and getting into a car and driving away laughing. Todd walks up to the box opening it to find its a bomb with 20 seconds left.

He panics not knowing what to do. back and forth till last second he chucks the bomb sky high. Higher then any of the building tall with it blowing up in a massive explosion.

He then starts to leap at the car that drove away with it not being able to outpace him and he lands on it ripping the roof off grabbing Dr. Crane and throwing him away and stopping the car.

He walks up to Dr. Crane who is laughing he points to the car that is slowing moving to the side of building and both of them watch as the car explodes next to a skyscraper.

Todd quickly knocks Dr. Crane out as he goes to deal with the building. He goes to lift the side that started to fall holding it in place but if he was the let go it would fall. He sees the debris of the the building next to him and figures out a plan.

He drops one hand off the building having it fall down slightly without both his hand and grabs some debris creating a makeshift pillar out of it and placing it on one of the corners of the building. he does the same for the other corner of the fallen part and is able to let go but those being the only supports means the building will fall in no time.

Todd uses his engineering prowess to create more pillars and is able to get the building in a stable manners where it is able to hold itself up comfortably.

He was perfect for this and he new it creating his magnum opus in building construction till it felt like it was more stable then before the bomb went off.

After this he went back to Dr. Cross who started to sneak away and got him before he could giving him right to he police.

After that he looked around at the people leaving the building they circle around him and starts clapping and cheering. At first he is overwhelmed with the cheering and loud noises but after a few seconds suddenly a smile goes across his face.

He thinks back to how he was troubled not sure what to do with life and feeling lost. At that moment he found it. Helping those in need is what he needed in life.

Todd leaps away with a new outlook on life and a eagerness to change the world for the better.

**adgarza8** · 10-08-2024, 12:50 AM

Adrian Garza

The Coin

It was another great day, Richard had gone about his day like any other. He had a full night's rest, had a lovely breakfast, and left early to walk to his job he loves so much. He went by his usual path, not really the shortest path to his work, but his favorite. He walks down the streets and happily greets his friends and acquaintances that he's made over the years of strolling down this beaten path. Shop owners, hustlers, children, and families enjoying the morning stroll are all content to see their friend Richard bid them a good morning.

Partway through his little joyful journey, he stops and notices a lovely looking coin on the ground. A brand new quarter-shinning like it just came out of distribution-lays right in the middle of his path, "It must be a lucky coin!" he thought. After appreciating the coin's beauty for just a moment; he looks around to see if the coin could've belonged to anyone nearby, but it appeared no one had been down this part of the sidewalk for a while. He figures the person who dropped it must be long gone by now, because of this, he decides to pocket his newly found coin. He reaches down in an attempt to pick up the coin, but to his surprise, he realized he must've not had a good grip while picking up the coin so he never managed to lift it off of the ground. He stutters for a bit and reaches yet again to pick up it up, this time a little slower. He manages to get a much better grip, but upon pulling the coin, it appeared to be stuck. Somehow, this brand new coin had been stuck to the ground, and would not budge an inch. Having already claimed this coin to be his "lucky" one, he becomes determined to remove this coin from the ground.

Richard then spends the next several seconds trying to find new ways and different angles to try to remove his newfound coin. He tries to cup it with his hands, push it with the tip of his fingers, scrap it with his fingernails, he even tried to pry it with his house keys, but does not succeed. Because of this he ponders yet again, and looks around seeing all of the friendly shop owners he had befriend. His gaze eventually was set on the owner of a tool shop and with that quick scan he knew what he had to do next.

Richard then spent several minutes borrowing several tools from his friend the tool shop owner, and returned to the coin with an annoyed expression while putting the tools to the test. He tried prying it with a screwdriver, a hammer, a crowbar, he even tried to scoop away the coin by using a makeshift chisel. Eventually he decided enough was enough and took out the one tool he didn't want to resort to. He returned back to the coin,this time with a smug look on is face, because he knew this would be the last tool he would need to achieve his goal. He connected the cable attached to the power tool with an extension cord, placed a hardhat on his head, put on some gloves, and put the jackhammer into position, right next to the coin. He turns on the machine and ends up being shaken like crazy, making a huge mess and destroying the sidewalk in the process, the jackhammer ended up pogosticking its way out of the scene and became unplug. But as the dust cleared, he reached for the coin. And while being surprised for a quick second, he eventually smiled and finally raised up his coin in glory. Unfortunately the coin had still been glued to a piece of the rubble from the sidewalk it was from, but in an ironic way he believed that's what was lucky about it. Richard awkwardly stuffed the coin into his pocket, creating a weird bulge. But he was victorious, he finally got his hands on his lucky coin, and he wasn't going to let anything else ruin his great day. He returned to his journey to his lovely job and waved goodbye to all of the onlookers surprised by the whole ordeal.

**ediValle** · 10-08-2024, 12:54 AM

Ediza Valle

Grow

Deep within a forest of green, where life can grow as it seems. Between the vibrant thickets and flora, lies a mini merry village of mushrooms within. Though not many varieties of greens come by so often to the Mushroom Village, the shrooms don’t mind for what they have is all they need. However, for one, though not the smallest in the village, but one of the youngest living amongst. A young little playful mushroom, who the villagers call Little Shroom, curious as can be; beams brighter than all who lives in the village.

While out to play, as usual Little Shroom went on about his day. Stopping at the sounds of what may seem odd commotion to the shrooms, Little looked around confused. Following the sounds of what seemed to be more excitement than what the village usually has, Little ran so eagerly to join the others to see what the ruckus was about. Amongst the crowd of the villagers, though it was so easy to see, a mushroom barely towers them all. Her color luminating more than the rest, compared to all, they seem dull. Though this radiant shroom is not a stranger to these villagers for she too was like the rest. The villagers happy for her growth, celebrate this fascinating event. It is not often a shroom in the village grows, for the villagers aren’t aware of how to grow. A mystery it is for them it seems, but a mystery most want to keep.

In awe, Little ran up to this radiant shroom, following her around and through the crowd of shrooms. While they stopped around the village, Little would act as if he was like the radiant shroom. Drawing on the dirt, portraying himself how he’d be if he too was as radiant as she. Hours has passed and yet Little still sticks by the radiant shroom like a shadow. The radiant shroom has been aware of Little sometimes after he’d been following her around. The radiant shroom sits with Little, looking at his drawings on the ground. Little points at the radiant shroom, then at himself, and then the drawing; telling her that he too wants to grow. Smiling happily, by no means of not seeing any reason not to, the radiant shroom accompanies Little to an entrance of a cave. A cave that’s not so far off from the village. Upon seeing the entrance of the cave, Little felt a sense of fear. The cave seemed dark just by looking at it from the outside. Seeing the spikes of the cave, it’s so different compared to the soft and rough edges of the forest, it gave Little a sense of danger. Little shook his head, turning to look at the radiant shroom. However, the radiant shroom was no longer next to Little. Where could she have gone? It’s unknown. Little looked back at the cave, still unsure why the radiant shroom brought him here. Knowing how plants similarly grow, Little believed that the cave wouldn’t help. So, Little then decides to venture forward away from the village and to the City of Sun.

The City of Sun, a place where the sun shines the brightest in the entirety of the forest. It’s not the hottest place in the forest, but one of the warmest places to be. Though, if not careful, the sun could burn. Once Little arrived in the city, his expression changed, oh so happy he felt. He’s never left his village and here he is seeing a city that’s mostly filled with sunflowers, but other flowers wandered around here too. Very diverse compared to his village. Though one thing Little notices is that all the sun flowers in the city all face the direction of the sun. How strange it is for him to see for back at his village they paid no attention to the sun. Little went up to sunflower, trying to get their attention. The sunflower lowered himself down, still facing the sun, but low enough to see Little. Little explains his situation of wanting to grow but not having any idea how. The sunflower’s aware that they’re both completely different plants, but despite that, plants are similar. With that logic, the sunflower told Little to face the sun and take in the light. It didn’t take too long until Little started burning in sun’s light. Little’s face turned red as he burned, squealing. Little ran off for water to cool himself. The sunflower with Little looked at him as he ran off, as he tried to follow to help Little, the sunflower’s petals closed in on itself, without the sun, blinding himself. The sunflower looked back at the sun, as his petals opened up, he felt sorry for Little and not being able to help.

Little ran out of the City of Sun, and towards Prairie Town. Another town that’s close by Mushroom Village and the City of Sun. Prairie town, a town where plants with different needs can co-exist in its wet grassland environment. Once Little arrived to Prairie Town, he jumped into a little shallow river, cooling his burns. After cooling off, Little sat down, trying to figure out where ran off too. He’s never seen prettier flowers around. While taking in the scenery, Little didn’t realize he was sitting on the mouth of a venus flytrap. The venus fly trap grabbed onto Little and tossed him up carefully onto land. A bit frightened, Little gazed at the venus flytrap with its wide mouth. A fly crawled on Little’s head and then flew onto the venus flytrap’s mouth. The venus flytrap quickly shuts his mouth. While this startled Little, he’s conflicted. He’s never seen a plant eat a bug before. Little was afraid to ask for advice from the plant, fearing that it would eat him too, he instead decided to find a bug. Little would mimic what the venus flytrap did and managed to eat a fly. Little felt ill and went off to vomit. Still feeling unwell, Little decided it was best to leave Prairie Town and head back to Mushroom Village.

As he made it back to his village, Little sat down by himself. For once, Little was not beaming brighter than the rest of the villagers. The radiant shroom walks over to him, noticing how gloomy he is and how he hasn’t grown. Seeing how defeated Little looked, the radiant shroom felt the need to aid him better. They walked back to the cave’s entrance together again. And once again, Little felt fear. The radiant shroom pushed Little closer, but Little backed away. The radiant shroom walked towards the cave, signaling to Little and they can walk together. And so, the two mushrooms walked into the dark cave, where the sun’s light cannot reach. While it seemed pitched black from the outside, the cave glowed from inside, giving Little a sense of comfort.

While walking around, the radiant shroom went up to a small little pool of water, splashing the water towards Little. Little splashes water back at the radiant shroom. The two played around in the cave, playing games like tag, hide n’ seek, and a small quiet game. After a bit of fun, the two sat down for a moment. Until, Little started to produce fungal spores. The spores would float up, filling their surroundings, luminating beautiful light. Its light was gentle, calming, something you’d never truly get to see with the sun’s light. Basking with the spores, Little grew. As the radiant shroom left the cave, Little walked out. Little, not being so little anymore, was now bigger than the radiant shroom, his colors were brighter than before. As they went back to the village, the villagers jumped with glee, and celebrated, embracing Little’s growth.

**AllenSalvador17** · 10-08-2024, 12:55 AM

Allen Salvador

Flower

Stone scatters across my gaze, as sweat batters against my forehead. A flash of magic erupts from my staff with instinct and now I hold the guardian of this temple against a force of magic that leaves it stuck temporarily in time. I use these few seconds of meek respite to find cover within the temple's rows of stone pillars. I find a particularly unconfident stone formation and I hide behind it, occasionally taking peaks at the stone altar just behind the immobile guardian where I can loosely witness the form of a hovering flower. Shafts of light somehow douse its visage in a gentle cloak of warmth, berating me with comfort even though I am far from it. I think back to the beginnings of my journey when I discovered the flower's existence and how it was protected by an ancient guardian of rock and stone.

The flower was sought by many adventurers for its healing properties but none would pass the guardian. I then remember the flickering gaze of my husband's eyes, how he cupped my hand and begged me to stay. He shook his head, disapproval forming his expression. I remember responding only with a smile and then pulling away despite all argument. I then remember the sound of the door closing behind me... boom...

BOOM!

Reality! My temporary shelter explodes with dust and debris as I scramble to the flower! I begin a dash in the opposite direction and I realize that the guardian has broken free from my spell. Before I can begin another incantation, the jade embedded within the center of the guardian's head begins to glow with a dangerous red hue. A concentrated beam erupts from the jewel and I have no time to find safety. As energy rushes towards me, I throw my hands forward, gripping my staff with all my might!

Memories. They flash before me, I can see my husband before he was struck with illness before my quest took place. I am back at our house, the one we built together in the middle of a gentle grassy plain. We often walked through the plains together, my husband admiring the sway of grass and how shadows bent across the grass's green blades. He often held a soft expression, he could identify the slightest pang of anxiousness within me. I loved that about him. I loved when he caressed my palm with his thumb as we walked, and how he recalled the memories of his childhood. Oh, how we wished for a life that began a family...

Anger begins to fester in my soul-- I can't let this be the end! My eyes struggle to open, and when they do all that fills my vision is the blinding red light of the guardian's energy and how it hasn't yet swallowed the entirety of my being! I realize that I am pushing back, splitting the beam in two as it scars the temple with trails of fire and discord! I gather my breath and begin walking forward, pushing against the guardian's magick. As I close the distance between the guardian and me, the beam suddenly gathers against my control and explodes in front of me! The energy of the beam is blasted backward! The guardian stumbles, its steps shaking the interior of the temple as smoke and dust cover the scene. My breath is shaky, but I finally have time to recover my body-- oh how I was wrong. Suddenly a stone fist parts the cloud of dust and then I am launched across the room!

I skid against the floor, I feel bruises forming on my shoulders and stomach. I attempt to stand after harshly landing, but all my strength has abruptly left. I manage to open my eyes, and I spot my staff just a few feet away from me. I begin the most horrendous crawl, I can feel my ribs deeply in pain as I reach ever closer to it. As I reach out to my staff, I can feel and hear the steps of the guardian coming close to me. Suddenly time slows and I then begin to wonder what my life would've been like if I'd never started this journey at all. I imagine staying with my husband, standing beside him as he slowly loses his life. I can imagine how he looks at me, pained but hopeful. He tries his best to stay alive but the next moment his hand goes limp and I am the one to close his eyes shut. I turn my head, tears flowing down my cheeks and I can see the door of the temple just barely open. It lets a cascade of light into the temple and for some reason, it's so blinding, it fills my vision.

I appear in a space of utter darkness, where I can somehow see myself despite the spanning void surrounding me. I can feel a curling destruction of hopelessness, and the tugging of shadow and mist grabbing against my form... I let it take me. Darkness crawls throughout my body, stabbing at my neck as I suddenly begin to fall. Just before the shadows cover my vision I see the flickers of light just a few feet away, almost as if it's calling out. A hand reaches from the light, and somehow I can hear the woosh! Of trees, and the familiar laugh of my husband. I am reminded of a life that is worth living through, pain and all! I grab the hand from my light and I vividly return to reality! I am back in the temple, time returning to speed as I grab my staff and hold it high up into the air aimed at the guardian's jade. Light gathers at the staff's crystalline end, magic culminating into a singular orb of dense power. My muscles tense as I begin to yell, and the energy is finally released! A flash!

I return home with the mystical flower in hand. My husband lays in his bed, the recesses of his life continually fading as I realize I have little time. I gather my things from the apothecary and begin crafting the flower petals into a liquid of healing essence. My palms are sweaty with anxiety as I race against time to heal my husband, and once the concoction is finally ready I hurriedly meet him at his bedside. His eyes weakly open and he instinctively reaches out to hold mine. I laugh, shaking my head as I prepare the potion letting it flow into his mouth. I hold my breath in awaited result, but then suddenly he goes limp. Panic. My heart beats intensely and I stumble forward, clawing at the husband's visage. My body is shaking against his and I have no idea what to do with myself, but then I suddenly feel his hands wrapped around my waist. I momentarily pull away and then witness that his eyes have fully opened, though clearly tired he smiles at me and then pulls me to an embrace. We both laugh.

**ChayaNF** · 10-08-2024, 01:11 AM

Chaya Fuller

The Secret Garden

In this small college town, fixed between the campus and the shops, lives a restaurant named “Aroma”, beloved for its fancy yet comforting recipes, a shop filled with laughter and chatter, every hour of every day. For Clay and Mia, these sounds meant something else. Both, with dreams of opening their place, worked in sync with one another. Clay was a delivery boy who was only allowed to pick up and drop off, while Mia worked as a waitress, working tirelessly to keep the patrons satisfied.

Every day after her shift Mia and Clay would sneak away bits of food, bread from the bowls on the table, small desserts for the bakery, and any food that got sent back unwanted by the customer, wrap the food in a small napkin and keep it away for later. With the wide collection of food, they would go on a walk after work and share their stolen treasure while they talked about the crazy day each other had had.

It became a routine for them, a time to talk about their future with each other while munching on their plundered snacks, dreaming about what the future has in store for them, a family? A better-paying job? Neither one of them knew, but still, they enjoyed every moment of this walk.
“Imagine owning our place.” Clay would say as they strolled through the quiet street, the fading sunlight casting long shadows around them. His voice carried with it a spark of hope as if the idea itself would take away the exhaustion of the long hours of their shift, “No one to tell us where we can or can't sit, where we can or can't eat,” he continued, his gaze distant, as if he was picturing the freedom they would have.

Mia smiled softly, her eyes lighting up at the very thought. “We could do whatever we wanted,” she chimed in, her tone warm with the same sense of longing as Clay’s. “Make the food we love, fill the place with smells of home.”

Though reality was a lot stronger than two love bird’s dreams.

On a particularly hectic evening, Mia was taking a sneak of food like she would normally do during a rush, and she accidentally knocked over a customer's drink causing them to make a scene out of it, calling over her manager and making her confess to what she was doing in the first place. Making her empty her pockets in front of everyone reliving the stolen food from the restaurant, all the missing bread from the bowls, and the crackers and small snacks that were magically going missing now found in her hands and across the table.

Being fired on the spot in front of everyone, Mia left the restaurant, eyes filled with tears and head down in shame. Clay’s heart sank as he watched the love of his life leave in such a sad state, grabbing her things he left to catch up with her. He was quickly stopped by his coworkers who said that if he left, he would be fired too. Clay looked them in the eye, his mind was already made up. He threw down his towel and walked away to comfort his love.

Mia, heartbroken and devastated, cries to him. “It all over because of me”. Clay looked at her, offering her a bit of bread, and said, “It’s ok’d my love, maybe it was a good thing”. Mia looks at him confused “A good thing?” She repeated with tears still in her eyes and sadness in her voice, holding the bread in her hand. “Ya good thing,” she said happily, “Now we can start our own place” With confidence on his face he looked at Mia as they stopped walking, “A place where we’ll be welcome, and nobody can put us down”.

place where we’ll be welcome, and nobody can put us down”.
“But how would we do that, it's going to be so hard now,” Mia asked, still unsure of Clay’s plan. He looked into her eyes as if to assure her that she didn’t need to worry anymore, “We have everything we need so don't worry about a thing”.

With all their saving and days turning into weeks and weeks into months, they were able to turn an abandoned storefront into the restaurant of their dreams. With almost everything they could ever wish for. They made the place feel inviting and homey, making all the menu for starch, with all their favorite dishes, a little inspiration from their old job. They named the place “Secret Garden”. They lovingly hug each other looking at what they have achieved.

On opening night Mia's heart raced waiting for customers, worried they'd done all of this for nothing, Clay in the back making sure everything was perfect for their first opening night. One after another customers began to walk in, filling the place with that ever so familiar buzz of laughter. Welcoming everyone that entered, the place seemed to be packed that night. Mia couldn’t have been happier looking around at the people enjoying their restaurant, in this crowd of people she noticed someone standing by the entrance. As she walked over to help serve them, she noticed it was her old boss, looking around intently. They locked eyes, her old boss almost looking ashamed of what he had done to Mia in the past. She greeted him with open arms and welcomed him inside her restaurant. She told him, “Everyone is welcome here at the Secret Garden” and sat him at a table, handing him a menu. As Mia returned to work, it felt like a weight was lifted off from her shoulders, ending the night with Clay by her side.

**ruthpliego** · 10-08-2024, 01:30 AM

ruth pliego:
Isolation

She was the last to witness utter silence. The last one who still remembers what it felt like to have conversations, hear the sounds of chatter and cars passing down streets. But now, she is the only one who gets to experience the aftermath of Earth without its people. It's odd, everything is different but yet the sun still feels the same on her skin, birds keep chirping, the grass keeps growing, and everything else remains untouched and unchanged.

The day the Earth went silent was still crystal clear in her mind. There were no sirens, no war, no explosions, not a flash of light in the sky or natural disasters. One minute the Earth had a pulse and the next it was gone. She remembers frantically looking for anyone that could tell her what was going on or rather just looking for anyone. She knocked on doors, tried calling phones, breaking down windows, just searching for any sign of life. But still, quiet.

That day she cried the loudest she's ever cried before. Or ever will.

After years of living like this one begins to have a neutral outlook on the whole thing. Positive thoughts over the fact that she is the last person on Earth will always be coupled with negative truths. Having access to all the things she wants—the homes, the shops, the food—is dull when there’s no one to share them with. It’s an endless supply, but she knows it won't last. The cans of food that stock the shelves will eventually expire, and the buildings and streets will one day collapse. She can sing at the top of her lungs, but never get to experience new music again in her life. Life is an endless exploration but with no purpose or reason to do it. The Earth is hollow. A monument of nothing.

It sounds bad, sure, but much like every other person that used to exist knows: humans have a powerful will to adapt and survive. So after some years, she becomes numb to the whole thing. She wakes up, she scavenges, she exists. It's not happiness, but it’s not misery either. It’s just... life. Life in its barest, most stripped-down form. With her only companion in this world being her teddy bear, Pip.

To maintain a sense of normalcy, she does everything with him. They go and grab books from the local library, stash them at home or read them in her favorite coffee shop. She tells him about everything—her thoughts, her worries, the little changes in the world outside. Of course, he already knows all of it, but he still listens. Without him, she fears she would have lost her mind (and treating herself for insanity in total isolation might just make her insane).

Having a routine helps in keeping her grounded. It gives her a bit of a reason to get out of bed, and fill the overwhelming silence with something, anything. Everyday, she puts on her shoes, grabs her bag, and they make their way outside. They walk down streets with buildings she once knew so well, still looking past their windows as they walk by. They make sure to stop by two or three stores, checking to see that the roof is still intact and no critters have gotten to any of the viable food. Preserving a world that can maintain itself. Then they grab whatever they’re going to eat for that day and they head back home. The walk back she often lists to Pip which building’s cracks seem to have expanded, or they simply admire the vines creeping up the walls, slowly reclaiming the buildings.

Back home, she kicks off her shoes and prepares food. She plates it for both of them, though only one plate is ever touched. After the meal, she cleans up—always for two, always alone. If there’s nothing else to do, they pass the time however they can. Some days it’s reading, some days drawing or wandering through the empty streets. But every night ends the same: they go to bed, and the day fades into another.

The days become a constant cycle. The sun rises, they forage, they eat, they read. Then sleep. Wake up, search for food, eat, maybe have tea, maybe draw, then sleep again. Over and over, again and again. This routine, this purpose, spiraling endlessly.

How she’s managed to keep this up, she doesn’t know. Though, she’s certain what little she’s doing now is a lot better than what ever happened to everyone else.

That day went like any other, with not much to document about the state of things. As it was getting late into the afternoon, she grabbed a book, and sat on the sofa opposite to Pip. The sun and candles casting long, waving shadows on their walls, draping everything with a soft yellow hue. She sat there, holding the book so close to her face she could practically taste the words that bled on every page. Her breathing became rhythmic, matching the turning of pages.

Knock, Knock, Knock.

Her heart stopped, she flinched, breath stuttered. She turned to Pip as if to say “did you do that?” She’s lost her mind. She slowly got up from the couch, heart aching and bounding around her ribcage. She let the book fall from her lap, her eyes fixed and unblinking to the door, afraid that it might disappear in an instant. When she finally got to the door she clenched her teeth, afraid her heart couldn't contain itself inside of her. Her hands shook as they reached for the door knob. And - there was no one.

She looked around, her mind racing, until she finally looked down at her feet and saw it. A piece of paper sat where the noise originated from and it said.

“I’m so glad I found you.”

“I’m so glad I found you.” Those words kept her up that night. The handwriting completely engraved to the forefront of her brain. “I’m so glad I found you.”

The next morning they made their way down the street to one of the corner stores, her eyes bouncing around to every leaf fall or tree shake. For the first time in years she was looking over her shoulders wherever she went. But again, it was as if nothing had happened the night before. There weren’t any knocks, or notes. It was silent once again.

Some days later her and Pip headed over to their coffee shop to have tea. The shopkeeper bell sang as they made their way in. But she froze as soon as the door had closed. Some of the tables were moved. Two chairs were positioned facing each other as if someone wanted to raise their legs comfortably while they passed the time. Other tables were just moved seemingly for the sake of being moved. Over one of the tables there lay a note.

“This is a lovely spot.”

Unconsciously, she furrowed her brows. The handwriting is the same. Why do they want to be known but not seen? Why were they invading her space? She angrily placed Pip on one of the chairs and moved things back to the way they were. They left not long after.

At the library she found fiction books over by the cookbooks. Notes stuck out from some of them, she crumpled them up without even reading them. Pip watched silently, not interfering with her anger.

So long she’s remembered what it was like to live with other people. Yet she’s lived so long in isolation. Why does she have to share her space with anyone? Why do they insist on invading her world? Her pace quickened and her grip around Pip tightened. She locked her doors when they got home.

The next morning as she was getting ready she took note of how her home lacked curtains. How did she not notice that before? She put on her backpack and grabbed Pip. She stared at her feet as they stepped over to the outside only —someone was outside their door.

It was her.

She looked exactly like her. Only backwards. This didn’t make any sense, she couldn’t believe what she was seeing. The Other One looked back at her as if this were just an average Tuesday. But her eyes couldn’t help but widen, her breathing becoming quickened. The Other One turned on her heel and disappeared into the vast open world. She slammed the door behind her.

This kept this going for days. Both getting on each other’s nerves, unable to accept a world where they both share a space. She was annoyed with the entire situation, often contemplating what to do, thinking of a way to distance themselves from The Other One.

All of it got thrown out the window. Pip was gone and she saw red. In a fit of anger she trashed the place. This was it. They couldn’t coexist. She marched down to the cafe, and waited. Arms crossed and anger set across her face. She waited. And waited.

Then the bell rang.

She quickly raised to her feet, firmly making her way towards her, snatching Pip from her hands right as they were mere inches from each other. The Other One’s eyes realized what was happening, they went to Pip then back at her. Her mouth twitched as she tried to take Pip from her hands. She pulled away from her. They both held on to him, pulling him in opposite directions. Then a rip could be heard between them, Pip’s arms began to tear, a fluff of filling fell to the floor. The Other One yelled, throwing herself at her. They pulled and punched. The screeching of heavy tables and chairs filled the air around them, dust lifted. A pain shot through her stomach, a bruise certain to form on the side of her arm. Yells escaped with every punch. She didn’t remember what it was like to get hit.

Then, there was only one yelling, one bruising, one throwing punches. She painfully stood on her own two feet. And watched. The dust settled and it was quiet again. All you could hear was her breathing. She groaned as she took a stop forward, over her body, holding her now aching gut. Slowly, she picked up Pip, gently so as to not inflict more pain on him. There was a calmness to her face. Slowly, they approached the door, barely able to find the strength to turn the doorknob. They left, the bell at the door slowly replacing their silence.

Announcement

Fall 2024 | Final Project - Long Form Narrative

Fall 2024 | Final Project - Long Form Narrative

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