The Bookshelf in the Forest

       Daylight is loud. Birds screams slip through the tightly shut windows. Wind bellows all around the house. Everyone is awake. Everyone is alive.      Once night comes, I sleep hard enough that the entire wilderness is ... silence. Pure and beautiful silence. Nothing to be afraid of. Nothing to wish for. Nothingness. Glasslike in its simpleness, the reality of abyss. No darkness, no light, just the black splotch that ends each phrase.      Red splots my hands as I pluck berries from the underbrush. I place them into my basket and ignore the juices seeping into the moss that I kneel upon. I sometimes reach down and touch the moistened moss, rub my hands over it; it's warm. As it dries it leaves my hands an auburn-y red.       I rinse my hands under the sink and watch as the auburn races down into the drain. I try to replicate the auburn with the juice of the raspberries, but it is always too sweet a red.  ...

  Is this the end? All I’ve ever known and all I’ve ever loved. All gone in the blink of an eye. We whispered in assembly when we were meant to be paying attention. I watched people filter in, tentatively waiting to catch a glimpse of whoever I had a crush on in the moment. I would become mesmerized by the speeches that tugged my heartstrings so forcefully that I thought I might begin to cry. I wanted to know how to replicate the speeches that made me swell up with anger so much that I wanted to cry and yell and laugh and smile with glee. We sang each other happy birthday and created inside jokes that confused and concerned those unwilling ears who heard our laughter. We said we’d fight each other, but we loved each other far too much to lay so much as a finger on one another. We’d complain about the food, far too lazy to make something ourselves. We’d pile up our plates and somehow finish it all just in the nick of time. I’d watch the boys yell at each other over a little game on ...

      Blood poured out of her gut, onto the floor and into his hands and into his veins.       "No, no, a thousand times no," he said his hand bleeding into mine. Tears rushed down his face as he screamed and yelled into oblivion. But what was I to do?      Beverly sat on the ground by the sink, propped up against the wall. Looking back, I wish I could've told him the truth; it wasn't his fault. Her life had been set up for her to die, as had his. 

       I let it flow through my hands. It was a shimmering, nearly transparent gold, with streaks of blues, greens, and purples throughout it. It glimmered in the sunlight, casting the colors onto my hand. I held it upwards to let the colors cast themselves on my face, purples dancing in my eyes. I put it on the table beside me and let it roll, however, it became caught in a divot in the wood. I watched it for some time, and couldn’t help but wonder how it had never broken before. With the amount of times I had dropped it, you would’ve expected the glass to break into a billion pieces. Yet it never had. Not even the slightest dent or bruise upon it. I grabbed a book, opened the page, and then put the object to my eye. The words were magnified and distorted, the oddness of this little round piece of glass filled me with wonder. Yet it was a simple thing, merely a child’s toy. Yet I adored it more than I could ever love anything, or anyone, else.

       The water rushed along my legs, my feet buried in the sand. I could occasionally feel the fish brushing up against my ankles, trying to figure out what I was. The water was cold, as it always was in the mornings. I looked down and rummaged my hands through the sand beneath me, trying to find some rock. I did this every morning; tried to find a rock, and just admired it for some time. Today’s rock was one of my favorites; a shimmery grey that looked lavender when wet. It glistened in the sunlight, and was perfectly round, and fit nicely in the palm of my hand. As the sunrise faded into day, I would hoist myself onto the dock. I wouldn’t stand as I did in the water before; I would sit and just listen to the world. Listen to the sounds of the songbirds looking for worms, the sounds of the waves hitting the dock, the mosquitos, and bees that whizzed past my ears. I would look into the water and see the fish swimming around, the sea plants swaying in the waves, and...

      I had never expected the woods to be this frightening, especially in the daytime. In the night I don't have to worry about seeing corpses hanging on the trees; blood dripping onto the moss below. At night, I sleep so hard I don't hear them screaming. The screaming is gone by the morning, they've run out of energy and air.     My hands tremble as I pluck raspberries from the bush. When I'm done plucking, my hands are covered in blood, and not just from the thorns pricking me. I oftentimes wash the berries so long that they completely break. Whenever this happens, I have to go back out and go through the whole agonizing process all over again.     I really shouldn't be scared anymore. I mean, it is my doing. Plus, there's not much else to do when you live in the middle of the woods, many miles from anyone else. My father was the first I killed. Then, people came through and knocked on my door to ask about the body, and I'm sure you know what happen...

John Jones had married Lucille thinking she could get his little family off of the ground. Instead, Lucille abused the children, spent all of her money before John and she married, bringing the family down further. She refused to sell her jewelry or clothing to help the family, and she would beat the children if they didn’t sell enough cookies each day. She would take away their food and sometimes make them sleep outside at night, even in the winter. John tried to stop her at first, but she manipulated him well, and John ended up being just as cruel as she was.  Lucille had met John three years after the war, he was in rough shape, and had hardly any money; so she decided to step in. She thought they’d care for her, thank her for all of her help. But the family did not, so she just harmed them all, three at a time. Although Hansel and Gretel were constantly filled with fear, they comforted each other. Lucille had a habit of beating Gretel, tearing her down. Hansel would d...

A cold wind rushed through the attic window. Rosemary was pushed to the floor, she had been in this attic for seven days now, she had counted. She wanted to go home, but at the same time, she didn’t. She was only eight years old. This sort of thing wasn’t supposed to happen to anyone, let alone an eight-year-old. Yet, she had decided to push through. At that very moment, (One o’clock according to the watch she had found lying on the ground of the attic) she decided to find a way out. Reader, at this point in the story, you are most likely fairly confused. So, why don’t I give you some clarity? Roughly one week ago, young Rosemary Clarke was minding her business, exploring her town, as she usually did. Unlike most days, she found something interesting. A golden pocket watch, resting peacefully in the grass. Of course, pocket watches aren’t all that exciting, but, for some odd reason, Rosemary felt drawn to this pocket watch. So, she picked it up and opened it. She turned around the h...

    Willa Anderson grew up with her father and mother when she was very young. Her mother would tie her hair into braids and decorate them with flowers. She would wear flowy pastel dresses, blouses, and skirts in shades of green, blue, yellow, pink, and orange. Her nose and cheeks would get red from the sun in the summer and the cold in the winter. Everything seemed alright for young Willa Anderson. But, her father would tug the daisies out of her golden hair. He would take away the moisture from the moss in her eyes. Her face would go pale as if she were a corpse. Although life was hard for young Willa Anderson, she had her guardian angel in red. She had seen the angel many times when picking flowers, the angel made her feel safe. One day, she went home after picking flowers to find her mother murdered by her father, her father had shot himself. Willa was six.     She then went to live in an orphanage. Not much seemed to have changed; her hair still got tugged on, ...

Tales of Terror Ch. 6         It was still October 20th. Daphne had gone back to the mansion, but she didn't tell Fleura that she was going there. She had to check the back of the mansion again. Where she had found the letter, maybe there was more there. Why would someone put a letter at the back of the house instead of the mailbox? She approached the back, when she realized that there was a path about 6 feet away. She walked the full length of the path, only to discover that it led to the clearing where Casper and she would talk. She raced back to the mansion, something felt off.        Once Daphne got back to the mansion, she continued to walk clockwise around it, and then she discovered a small door about 4 feet off of the ground. She saw a ladder about 3 feet away from the door, and grabbed it to climb up to the door. She placed her hand on the door knob, only to discover it was locked. She grabbed her lock pick and unlocked the door. She...

Tales of Terror Ch. 5      Daphne couldn't stop wondering if Casper was alright. It was October 20th, and they had agreed to meet back in the forest. He said he wanted to talk. Daphne was nervous, she knew she would be telling him about the story; which could maybe ease things, but she really wasn't sure.       She sat down on a tree stump; shortly, Casper arrived.      "Look, I know you're probably mad at me, but I can explain." His hands quivered as he spoke.      "I can just tell you what I know about the story first; if that would help you stay calmer."      "Yeah, yeah, sure."      "Well, there was this story, about these girls at an all-girls, Catholic boarding school. One day several of the girls woke up, and everyone had vanished. This group of girls went looking for everyone, and then, the group started getting killed off. Then, there were only four of them. They got out,...

The Ones Who Never Returned      Once there were a group of girls who went to a Catholic, all-girls, boarding school. They woke up one day, only to discover that they couldn't find anyone. They checked everywhere, there was no sight of them. There were 15 of the girls searching. The next evening, they discovered one of them impaled on a spike of the fence that surrounded their school. The fence was tall, and locked. The girls were always locked in. This is when they realized that they had to find the key, no ladder in that school would be tall enough. There were now 14 girls.       The next evening, while the 14 were eating dinner, a girl died of poisoning. They now realized how bad it really was. They 1st to die hadn't killed herself, she had been murdered. They suspected each other. There were then 13.      3 more died the next day. Stabbed, hung, and shot. None of the remaining 10 knew who did it.      ...

Tales of Terror Ch. 4     It was now October 16th. Casper would be back on the 18th, and then she would tell him what all she had learned. Yes, she could call him, but sitting in that forest and talking was just their thing. Casper had been the one to suggest it. For roughly 2 years, he had been paranoid that someone would listen in on their conversations. She respected him, and she wanted him to feel safe, so she agreed. Thinking on it, Daphne realized that Casper had been doing online school for a month over 2 years. For the first time ever, she began to wonder what had happened 2 years ago that had changed so much. He would have been 11 when he began attending online school, his birthday was October 31st. As much as she wanted to call him to ask, she knew not to.     Daphne walked up to the mansion and rang the bell. There was no answer. She rang again, still no answer. She knocked, no answer. Cautiously, she began to walk around the mansion, and wh...

The Sounds of 32621 Sunshine Lane     32621 Sunshine Lane was completely empty that bright June day. No one had come home in a week. Yet, wind rushed through that room occasionally. And in that moment, it was a light breeze. Yet, all of the windows were shut, and the house didn't have any air conditioning. Creeks seemed to come from the floorboards in every spot in that room, yet, no one was in the entire house. Whispers came from the closet, from the floorboards, desk, from it all. Although the house was fairly new, this room had been there for at least 50 years. It had been the only room that had survived the fire. It was seemingly a miracle that the fire hadn't done so much as brush the room. What caused the fire remained a mystery. Suddenly. Footsteps could be heard in the house. A girl stepped in, only 10 years old, she cautiously opened the door to the room. She had only wanted to explore 32621 Sunshine Lane. Yet, she was never heard from.      Th...

Tales of Terror Ch. 3       Daphne had finished her work at the mansion for the day. She had said she was going to go back to the library, but that was a lie. She had finished what was on her list for that day quicker than normal, which meant that Fleura allowed her more time to read. Yet, today, she had brought her lock pick. It was two days after her and Casper had talked, and now she wanted more than ever before to know what was up by the organs.        She looked behind her, to make sure she was alone, even though she knew that she was. Fleura would coming to look for her in 20 minutes. She had to be done everyday by 5:30 PM, and normally only ended up having 5 minutes until she had to leave. She had decided to investigate for 10 minutes, and then go to the library and read. She had called Casper the day before, and they both agreed that perhaps that journal was more important than it appeared at first glance. Of course, they both knew dee...

The Abandoned     Once there were 4 kids, all 14. One day, they decided to go to a museum full of sort of junkyard items, things you'd find somewhere abandoned. They first looked indoors, and then went outdoors to the sheds and weird old rides and such. Once they were done looking, they went to leave, only to discover that they were locked out. It wasn't closing time yet, it was still bright as day. They had arrived in the morning, and it was only 1 PM. Two of them repeatedly tried to unlock the gate, yet it never worked. The other two went back to where you could go back indoors, it was locked as well. They tried to pound on the door for at least 10 minutes, yet no one ever arrived. Eventually, Sallie, one of two girls, found a phone with a number beneath it, that apparently led to the front desk. She dialed the number and heard the following message, that sounded like a woman:       "Welcome to the Museum of Wonders!" the lady on the other end said, c...

Tales of Terror Ch. 2      It was October 12th. Daphne had gone off to meet Casper in the woods, on the eastern most side of the city. The city the two lived in was very small, with only about 10,000 people. Of course, the number may sound large to some, but it's really quite small. The mansion was somewhat of a legend in the town, as were many things; yet there were never any stories or histories to go along with them.      Daphne had gone to clean the house the two days after she had first visited the mansion. She hadn't told Casper of what all had happened yet because he had been out of town. He was always out of town; she knew he had his reasons, and that he didn't like to talk about it. He did online school, which made it a lot easier for him, obviously. Daphne had always been the only friend Casper's parents let him have. Again, she didn't know why, but she knew it was better to just simply not ask. The woods was always where the two met to talk a...

Lilitu and the Children of the Dark       Lilitu heard an ominous whistling. She was home alone, so the logical thing, in her eyes, was to go and investigate. Then, a high pitched, desperate screech from the attic. Lilitu rushed to the kitchen, grabbing a knife, and then raced to the old, creaky, wooden door in the middle of the living room. Behind the door lied a staircase the led to the attic. She carefully turned the door handle, and then cautiously endeavored up the steps. Opening the door that led directly to the attic... a gust of wind burst out and threw Lilitu down the staircase. Suddenly, it went dark. The light she had turned on when she opened the door at the bottom was out. There had been no flickering. Then, suddenly, a whistling voice said,        "Run. Run. Run while you can."        Lilitu burst out of the door as piercing green eyes had begun to appear at the top of the staircase. She slammed the door shut, r...

Eyes of the Lioness Look, before I start up this story; be prepared for a lot of details. I mean, I know people aren’t going to believe me. Then again, no one really ever believes what I say regardless. If anyone else has had a similar encounter, please let me know. I feel like I’m going crazy, I need some closure on what I witnessed. ~Sydney Look, I like reading, especially fantasy and horror. I always go to read in this little forest about a mile away from my house; enhances the effect of the story. Now, on the way there, there's this little playground. Every now and then, there’ll be this girl there. Around my age, looks like movie Luna Lovegood. I mean, yeah, she’s kooky, always in people’s business. Yet, she had never spoken to me, she would always just do weird things; I’d try to explain it, but I don’t know how to. She must have just had a weird vibe to her or something. I mean, I don’t know why I’m writing in present tense, I haven’t gone to that forest in 3 mon...