Tag Archives: Flash fiction

Juniper’s Journal (StoryADay)

Before the story begins, Juniper writes the following things in her diary…

“I have been obsessed with D. B. Painter’s “The Trees of Light” Trilogy since I was 8 years old. But I’m hardly the only person in the world to be obsessed with those books, as most kids my age loved those books when they were younger. But why is it that when you become a teenager, everyone expects you to read (and like) teen novels?

“That’s not me. That person who reads teen novels will NEVER be me!

“But what most people don’t know is that I am obsessed with “The Trees of Light” for a reason. They don’t know that when I was 8 years old, the school bully savagely beat me up because I was reading books in the library during recess instead of playing on the playground like the other kids, where he could see me and beat me up. I ended up in the hospital for several months; most of them were spent in a coma. The doctors weren’t sure if I was going to live or die.

“Well, I lived, but due to the beating, I suffered some irreversible brain damage. Meaning I couldn’t grow up properly.

“The other kids made fun of me for being childish and not acting or dressing my age. (I’m still wearing pigtails at age 14, mind you!) Plus, the adults, not knowing about my beating or injuries, tried to get me to read more mature books, books I wouldn’t touch with a lighter, or torch with a lighter. Even my foster family tried and failed to get me to “grow up” as it were.

“You may not believe this, but I’m obsessed with “The Trees of Light” because those books were my only solace in a cruel world that demanded normalcy and conformity, not imagination and individuality. I was accused of hiding behind the trees of light and refusing to interact with the real world.

“I know I should get some help for my problems, as what I’m doing is unnatural, but I fear the doctors will say that I was a victim of child abuse. I was, seeing as another kid beat me up, and no one intervened until it was too late.

“So what should I do? I know I can’t keep doing what I’m doing, as the school threatened to call social services and have me removed from my foster parents and sent to a hospital for not acting like a teenager. It’s not my fault, but I don’t want to grow up. But I also can’t stay a kid forever.”

The Dreams of a Girl (StoryADay)

I was born with a huge imagination, with dreams of castles and unicorns, butterflies floating over the rainbows and pink ice cream clouds. I dreamed of a perfect world, a world where everything was beautiful all the time, who no one fought and everyone always got along.

But then they called me delusional and out of touch with reality. They put me in a large room with soft walls where I would never be able to escape. They deemed me as a danger to society.

But what of my dreams, the dreams that enabled me to fly? I know I can escape from this place, because I will always have my imagination.

Chance Encounter (StoryADay)

I don’t know about you, but all I knew was that the minute I heard Shara Shinnok talking about Mackenzie Balford, I (Jacquel Rassenworth) had a bad feeling that something big was going on.

to start, there was a time that Shara and i both knew her as Denise Tillman. she was one of the meanest nastiest girls in St. Francis Middle School. i mean, nobody particularly liked her, as she was older than most of the sixth graders. she never did her homework and she interrupted classes with her awful behavior. Shara and I had a difficult time staying out of her way.

But Denise wasn’t always the cruel bully everyone thinks she is. In fact, she had been one of the nicest girls in the school until someone thought it was cool to make fun of her.

And the culprit was? None other than Christina’s mean older brother Randal McAllen.

He and his group made fun of Denise, calling her bad names and claiming that she was held back in school just for kicks. They turned her mean because of their insensitive jokes.

As I was saying, Denise wasn’t really our friend, but she was semi-kind to Christina McAllen, as Christina suffered because of her disability. Denise was also nice to us, until one bullying act ruined everything.

So when Shara called me in the middle of the night to complain about her problems with Mackenzie Balford, I knew that give or take, we would have to deal with Denise Tillman all over again.

A Friendly Warning

“Whatever happens, don’t die. See you Monday.”

At first, I was afraid. Knowing that someone write a message saying, “Don’t die,” gave me a greater fright than what I usually read on those creepypasta sites. I know that I’m a bit too old for those sites, but Richard keeps emailing everyone in the office those stories, and he won’t let anyone get their work done until they’ve read those stories.

And I’m always the last person to read them, as I keep closing down the window the story is on. I have considered blocking him from my emails, but the boss wants us all to “stay informed” and to delete a person from your contacts is to kick them out of the loop.

And that’s what I would like to do; I don’t have time for those creepypasta stories.

But when I confronted Richard about the message, he denied it. But I continued to glare at him, knowing that he probably wrote that message as a prank. There’s no other way around it. Richard’s immaturity was certainly getting to me, and I’ve had enough of his pranks.

Maybe I should have paid closer attention to the message, as the elevator broke down before I could board it, meaning that I had to take the stairs. Then my car wouldn’t start, which meant I had to call a tow truck and take the bus home. When I got home, there was that message again, telling me not to die. So I had no choice but to lock myself in my room, keeping away from anything that would hurt me, and wait until Monday, where I would meet the person who sent me that message.

The Doll Maker (StoryADay)

Who is the Doll Maker?

They say he’s talented in what he does; no two dolls he makes are the same. However, I’m suspicious about that, knowing there was something going on with how the Doll Maker makes his dolls. I mean, what did he have that the other toymakers didn’t have? I mean, the other toy makers make their dolls the same, meaning there’s no individuality among the dolls. Nevertheless, the Doll Maker makes sure to give each doll he makes its own personality. It’s like he treats the dolls like they’re living people and not something to be played with.

But I was told to stay away from the Doll Maker and the dolls he made, as my family wanted me to play with the ugly plastic dolls that came from toy stores, dolls that would fall apart after you play with them for several weeks.

Well, I didn’t care. I wanted the dolls the doll maker created, not those plastic dolls.

I went to the doll shop and the dolls there stared at me, as if they knew I was coming. Just then, the doll maker lifted up his head and stared at me, holding a doll in his hand. This whimsically stylized 10 inch doll is sewn from cloth and appears to be a young woman. She has dark brown eyes, a pale complexion, and wavy light brown hair neatly braided. She is proportionately short and a bit pudgy. Her stitched-on face has a calm expression. She is wearing a fantasy-style formal outfit in vivid magenta and vivid pink.

In short, the doll looked just like me.

I gasped, knowing how the Doll Maker knew how to make his dolls. The dolls were actually the little girls who came into his shop, but never came out. And it was too late for me to run.

The Latchkey Kid (StoryADay)

This is the story of how I saved a random person from certain disaster by watching TV.

I’m what you call a latchkey kid, which means I usually stay home after school by myself. That was because I was too socially awkward to go to the after school programs at the school or the teen center. If I had my way, I would spend my time in the library, but since the city implemented a new program designed to “help” socially awkward kids like me make some new “friends”, I didn’t bother with the library.

But maybe that would have been better compared to what I went through last week.

I was at home one day flipping through channels on TV (I usually don’t watch TV because I consider it a waste of time, but today, I had no homework and was bored) when I came across a strange channel. This channel looked like a news station, but instead of reporting today’s news, the reporters were talking about TOMORROW’s news!

I was shocked. Meaning that there was no way I was seeing the future’s news today. How did that happen? Was it even possible?

I held my breath as I watched a news story about the kidnapping and murder of a girl named Jenny Meyer. Jenny was a girl in my school who was different from the other kids, mainly because of a disability. The report said that a man posing as a psychiatrist snatched her from her front yard, and her body was found at a park not too far from the elementary school.

I didn’t know what to say, as my parents came home within a few minutes. But the channel switched itself to an educational program, which baffled me, as I wondered if the future-telling channel was for my eyes only.

Nonetheless, I knew what I had to do. I had to save Jenny before the strange man killed her.

The next day, I spotted her at school, but being in her own dream world. Knowing that I couldn’t get her attention, I wrote a message that said, “You should stay at the library tonight until your mother comes to get you. Otherwise, you will be attacked and murdered by a stranger. Please don’t ignore this message, as it means the difference between your life and death. Sincerely, a well-wisher.”

I guess my trick must have worked because when I watched today’s news, I leaned that a 25-year-old man was caught luring in the area where Jenny’s family lived. He was arrested for trespassing and Jenny was safely in the library.

I guess that the channel was telling me that I had the power to not just predict the future, but to save the lives of various people. But the only question I have left is this: should I use my newfound future-telling abilities to help people, even if there’s a way that someone will make that event happen?

The End of This Story

They say that in life, all good things must come to an end, and this story is no different. I should know, as I have to put an end to a part of a story that I have written since I was eight years old.

It was time for me to end my obsession with the book series “The Trees of Light” by D.B. Painter.

I’m not sure how much I’m going to regret this, but I know for sure that I had to give up reading those books. It’s not healthy to obsess over one book when there are so many other books out there to read. And I had learned that lesson the hard way.

But it doesn’t mean I won’t miss reading the books; far from it, actually. I know that despite the inevitable depression that will set in, I will have to give up something I love for something I need, which is a normal life.

prompt #52. A story entitled “The End.

The Real Truth about Atlantis

So, what’s really going on in Atlantis?

It’s not the lost city of Atlantis that everyone knows about, it’s about an entire planet called Atlantis. While I want to say something good about the planet, I’m afraid I can’t.

Not as far as the people living in the Ainysian Valley, that was.

According to the story “Attack on Fandom”, the Ainysian people were created using foul sorcery in the Ainysian Valley and the Titans existed to destroy their enemies.

While the people of Ainysia were good, their creators were wicked men who sought to use them to control the world. The wise men of Atlantis prayed to the gods to deal with the wicked men and their Titanic monsters, only to unknowingly unleash the Biblical Great Flood. The flood drowned both Atlanteans and Ainysians as well as the Titans. The survivors were returned to Atlantis, but the Ainysians were punished for existing by being imprisoned on an inhospitable island called Nefaria; they were expected to die in a number of generations.

After a number of years, a group of Ainysians returned to Earth, where they live among the unsuspecting humans and protect them from the monsters that lurk in the shadows.

Prompt #50. A creation myth.

Let Justice Be Served

“Well, I can’t say I’m glad this is happening,” Stuart Greer said to his friends Mara Llewellyn, Irene Haughton, and pearl tanner as they all sat in the courtroom. It had been two and a half months since the trial of Mrs. Schindler began. And to be honest, many people expected her to plead insanity and avoid the entire thing.

(In case you forgot, Mrs. Schindler was accused of cyberstalking and cyberbullying the kids after their friend/ringleader Tanya Chinook disappeared without a trace in 2010. Mrs. Schindler was also accused of hampering police efforts to find Tanya and return her to the Shinnok family.)

“Oh, but it is,” said Irene with a weird smile on her face. “It was already bad enough when Mrs. Brezetta was found guilty of orchestrating Tanya’s kidnapping and was sent to that mental hospital in Montana, but this is ridiculous. I don’t know what’s going  on here, but I know she isn’t going to be let off with a warning.”

“But still, she’s Tara’s mom,” said Mara, “and we can’t wish she’d go to jail, no even to keep us safe.”

“She stalked Tara too,” said Pearl.

“Yeah, and that too,” said Stuart.

To make a long story short, Georgette Schindler was found guilty of her crimes and sentenced to life in prison without parole. The group all sighed with relief, knowing that the nightmare Mrs. Schindler had put them through was over.

Prompt #49. A story about justice being done.