Unwilling Donation

Sam liked to spend the majority of his time drunk off his rocker. He also, unfortunately, thought he could handle his booze better than he actually could. This was the reason that Sam’s license was facing revocation on his next DUI charge.

At a party to celebrate getting his license back, thrown by his enabling friends, he decided that everyone needed more alcohol and snuck out to go get some.

While on the way back from the liquor store, the cover of night hid any swerving he might be doing. The drive was going well until he decided he could beat a red light and hit someone who was crossing. Knowing that if he were to stick around, he’d lose his license permanently.

Figuring that the best course of action would be to burn rubber and flee, he did so. In his haste to get home, he took a corner too wide and smashed into a light post, totaling the car and fatally injured himself.

Luckily, for several people, Sam was an organ donor. When the paramedics arrived, they found him dead on the scene. Soon thereafter, they would remove his organs to be taken to their awaiting organ recipients. The unfortunate reality was that Sam was still alive, but his brain was too badly damaged for him to show any signs of life.

Millions of people worldwide are organ donors. Sadly, not all of them are dead when people come to claim the organs.

Thug Aim

“Trolls,” I said to myself as I closed my browser. “Skeletons? Just appearing?” It was not likely. I knew it wasn’t a good idea to be reading horror stories this late on Halloween, but I was alone and bored. For the thin and slender man I was, it was a wonder that I was still single. It felt like I would be alone forever.

“Zal!” I yelled to my cat as she ran across the hall outside my room. “Go away!” I was still mad at that ball of fuzz for breaking my wax Jack statue from the movie “Nightmare Before Christmas.” It was my favorite creation. It was also hard to make. Candles were my source of wax for Jack. She ran back and looked at me, meowing.

“Go away! You broke my candle Jack and I—.”

I stopped mid-sentence when I heard a horrible, grating sound on my window. The next thing I knew, I heard my front door thrown open, followed by what could only be described as the sound of bones rattling.

I peered around the corner and I saw it. Its bones glistened in the soft light of the hallway lamp as it popped out and into view. There was a skeleton in my house, and it had just seen me. If only I had a gun and hadn’t had that accident. My hand was damaged last year in a wreck, and I lost thug aim, which was my favorite way to hold a pistol.

Panicking, I ran to my room and slammed the door shut. Unfortunately, I forgot that tomorrow was laundry day and there were clothes on the ground under the door, so it failed to shut.

I saw it. I saw the skeleton slide his hand inside the crack of my door. The skeleton slowly opened the door. Acting out of fear, and not knowing what else to do, I got on the floor, shaking as I tried to climb under my bed.

The next thing I knew was that the skeleton was in my room, and everybody walked the dinosaur.

Rocking Motion

My wife must hate me. She gave birth two weeks ago and I keep refusing her requests for me to hold the child.

I’m not a bad person. Really, I’m not. Ever since we got home from the hospital, she keeps herself cooped up in the baby’s room, rocking her tightly wrapped bundle to sleep. I avoid walking by, or she’ll ask me to hold it. I can’t stand to look at it. I never wanted this to happen, not to her, not to us.

But, I am not mad at her. How could I be? I mean, it breaks my heart to see her rock it back and forth until she falls asleep.

I knew coming back from the hospital empty-handed would be hard, but I never thought it would be this bad.

Quiltmakers

If an old lady asks you to help her make a quilt, it’s best to politely decline.

In the area surrounding the town of Pearl, Mississippi, people began to go missing. Eyewitness reports told of a set of three elderly ladies. The word as that at least one of the three would talk to the victims before they would mysteriously vanish in the following days.

One lady, possibly the last intended victim, was approached by one of the women about helping her and her two other friends make a quilt. She mentioned that they would pay well. Before the old lady left, she handed the woman a business card.

Luckily, for the woman, sketches of the three old ladies had been on television recently, and she recognized the person to whom she had just spoke as one of those three.

When the police raided the address listed on the business card, they only found an unfinished quilt—made from patches of human skin. Other than that, they never found any trace of the women.

So, if an old lady is paying well for help with a quilt, you might want to decline.

Practically Deserved It

I hate practical jokes. Well, I hate being the receiver of them. I guess I just don’t take it well. Let me just say this now. All my life I have been the butt of one big joke. For instance, this year for my birthday, my mother “baked” me a cake. It was made of concrete. She thought she was pretty clever.

I thought I was pretty clever when I baked her in the oven.

Last week, I went camping with a friend. He thought it would be funny to leave a used condom in my tent at night and thank me the next morning.

I thought it would be funny to castrate him and make him choke on it.

My old boss got a big laugh out of pretending to fire me yesterday.

I’m going to get a big laugh when they fire the cannon on the square and chunks of him will come flying out.

Next week is the first day of April. It’s going to be a fun day.

Pound of Gold

A man stands on the corner of a busy street, holding a sign that declares the end of the world is near. It also, curiously, says that God has forsaken him and the rest of humanity.

The man is Abe Samuels, a former CEO and father of two. However, this week has opened Abe to a new version of the hell in which he was living. A car wreck killed his children, his wife left him because she couldn’t handle the stress, his company went bankrupt, and the bank froze his assets pending a lengthy investigation of the company.

So, here stands Abe Samuels, a man who sees the God in which he used to believe as having turned his almighty back to him.

As he holds the sign, taking his anger out on the cars and passers-by, a man approaches him. He wears a white suit and black pants, and he sported spiky blond hair.

“I think you’re wrong,” the spiky-haired man told Abe.

“I think you’re stupid. What’s it to you what I believe?” Abe shot back, angrily.

“It matters a lot. God hasn’t forgotten you. What has happened was all part of his plan. He is only testing you, like how your refrigerator broke this morning. This is all a test to reaffirm your faith in the Lord.” The man smiled broadly.

“Whatever,” spat Abe. “Why don’t you get out of here before I reaffirm my faith in these boots as having a steel toe? I have given up on God, just as he has given up on me. Nothing is going to change that. Now go on. Beat it!”

The man sighed and walked off, turning into a dark alleyway.

Something struck Abe as odd suddenly. He started to think about what the man had said, and how he mentioned his refrigerator breaking that morning. He hadn’t told anyone, and not just for the fact that he had no one to tell.

“Hey!” he yelled toward where the man had gone. He tossed his sign to the ground and gave chase. He knew the man couldn’t have gotten far.

However, the alley ended in a brick wall. The only thing he found in the alley was a pile of feathers. He took one look, went home, and began to pray for forgiveness.

Old News

“It’s the apocalypse, Pete!” yelled Jacob as an explosion lit the skies. Downtown, which was close to Jacob, was suddenly and violently filled with screams and bright explosions. Already having flashbacks to World War II, Jacob began to panic even more when he saw people shambling about, going to and from the location of the explosions.

Pete, his loyal old dog, growled feebly at the people passing by. They appeared to be walking corpses, and this became clear to Jacob after another bright explosion lit the area enough for his old eyes to see clear enough.

Jacob turned for his door and yanked Pete’s collar. The old hound went tumbling in with Jacob as he slammed the door shut and went about setting the various locks in his house.

After securely locking down his house and setting in place his window bars, he got up the nerve to take a peek outside. Out there, the sky flashed with explosions that rocked his house. Suddenly, a face popped up right in front of him. Startled, he fell backwards and onto his coffee table.

“I know you’re in there old man,” the person outside groaned. From the lighting inside his house, he could see the burn marks and missing flesh on the person’s face.

Shouting wildly he hit the lights and ran to his bedroom, which was upstairs. Pete was right behind him.

The man outside banged on his door. “Come out and join the party!” he groaned in a dead voice. After a few breathless minutes, the banging stopped and Jacob figured the man would bring a whole horde of his undead friends back to get him.

He reached into his dresser drawer and moved away his socks, retrieving a pistol. “They’ve been saying the zombie apocalypse was coming, ol’ Pete. I read it on them sites. Now it’s true. I’m sorry old boy,” he said, aiming the gun at his lifelong companion, curled up on a pile of that week’s newspapers.

The dog died with only a quiet whimper. Next, Jacob turned the gun on himself.

“I planned for this day so carefully, but now they know I’m in here. Damn it, Sally, I’m coming to see you,” he said as he pulled the trigger.

That was not his last though, however. The very last thing that went through his mind in the last few moments while he was still alive was a headline on one of the newspapers under Pete.

“Zombie Costume Party Downtown Halloween Night.”

No Will

David now sits in the living room of what just used to be his parents’ house, contemplating suicide and looking back on how he wasted his life.

Days ago, in the same house, David lived with his parents. He stayed in their basement, which had been made-over to become a living area rather than just storage space. Because he had his own microwave, refrigerator, and bathroom in the basement, David rarely left his “man cave.”

However, had he bothered to venture out into the ‘real world’ of upstairs, he would have know what was about to happen to him. His parents were tired of him mooching all day with no job for years. His mother, who for years had been trying to pretend that this was only a setback, finally saw that David was turning into a worthless lump in their basement. He was little more to them than someone they saw once a month when they brought him fresh groceries.

They had agreed to change their will to leave him enough money to get an apartment for a short while, but not enough for him to live without a job. They wanted it so that he would be forced to be useful for the first time in a long time in his life.

It wasn’t long after they met with their lawyer to get their will changed that they both were killed in a car wreck. The worst part about their deaths is that David only found out when his brother came to tell him about the terms of the will.

The real reason that David’s brother had come was to tell him he needed to move out. He was left the house, not David. He gave David the check for the few hundred dollars left to him in the will, and told him that he had until the end of the day to get his stuff out of there. His parents left strict orders in his will that he move out. With the paltry sum of money he had, David quickly gathered that he would have to get a job.

After his brother left, David pondered the future. He realized that he would be hard-pressed to find a job, being as old as he was and having done nothing with his life. He also didn’t want to have to face the reality of not having his parents to care for him and buy him groceries. Having to learn to fly was a horrifying idea for the chick that had spent far too many years in the nest.

So, here sits David, in the living room of what used to be his parents’ house, contemplating suicide and looking back on how he ruined his life. Soon, he thought to himself as he toyed with the gun in his hand, my brother will be here.

Morning Coffee

The oily sheen in my freshly brewed, black coffee swirls about and breaks apart, forming numerous swirling spirals and circles, constantly changing. They are the galaxies I have created.

I wonder what planets might exist in my little universe. I blow and poke at the surface of my morning brew, destroying galaxies and civilizations with every stab. Blowing sends the universe into upheaval, entire solar systems crashing into one another. I laugh, applauding myself for being such a wicked deity today.

I take a sip and nearly heave. The brew is bitter and I can almost feel it fighting back. It tastes like anguish. It’s not nearly as bad as the universe in my soup last night. Gave me heartburn with all the fires of Hell.

Being God isn’t easy, especially when you create life every time you wake up. Watch out, humans. Tomorrow, I might decide to have your doughnut for breakfast.

Lost and Found

Lost and found bins are often full of unclaimed items such as coats and watches. Derrick, a cheapskate, frequented them in an effort to save money on clothes. Distance was not a problem for him, as he did not mind having to travel to a new bin location.

“Yes, that’s mine,” he said as he pointed to a nice hat at his latest stop, a train depot. He had spotted a well-worn bowler that he thought looked like it would go well with his other ill-gotten finery.

Laughing at his good fortune and at yet another successful scam, he donned the hat and went back to his house for a well-deserved rest.

His house was decorated with all the finest in whatever he could get on sale at the thrift store or ‘liberate’ from large chain stores. He lived alone at that house for obvious reasons, namely that he loathed spending money even on himself.

Lacking anyone to talk to, he opted to parade in front of his bathroom mirror for him to see all of his ‘glory.’

Though over the next few days he found many items, he always wore the bowler, having taken a shine to it.

One morning, though, Derrick awoke to find that he was losing clumps of his hair. Deciding against shelling out for a doctor, he contended that he never liked hair. Besides, he thought, it would save him money on shampoo.

However, he would not be able to remain so optimistic over the next few days. He would die in his yard, trying to save money by refusing an ambulance.

The paramedics, noting his death, went to move his body when the hat fell off, revealing a grim sight: he lacked skin where the hat was.

Seeing this, the paramedics called the CDC, who in turn called HAZMAT. It turned out the hat belonged to a homegrown terrorist who had been working on a dirty bomb.

Though the official cause of death was listed as radiation poisoning, it could just have been greed.

It’s Golden

I loved my wife, her smile, her hair, everything about her. Well, almost everything.

Every day she would sing the same song over and over. She said something about it helping her with stress or something about her father and when she was a kid. I didn’t listen to her sob story because after so many days of listening to it I just did not care. Excuses were all she had.

I just wanted her to be quiet. I knew she had a troubled childhood. She kept trying to cry on my shoulder. I just wanted some quiet around the house. I didn’t know that trying to kiss her would send her into this…this song.

One day, I snapped. I just wanted her to shut up. To stop her singing. I put my hand around her mouth to get some quiet around here. She squirmed, so I pressed tighter and tighter. Suddenly, she went limp. I had killed her.

I wasn’t worried, though. She had no parents and I hadn’t any friends. We lived on her parents’ old farm, and it was so remote no one would come looking for her.

Even though she’s gone, I still remember the sound of her voice, and that song. That’s not the worst thing about life nowadays.

The silence is driving me mad.

In the Water

There’s something in the water.

There’s something in the water they say.

Someone put it there to make people act this way.

People are dying, people are crying, people are lying.

Left and right the bodies go, dropping dead where they stand.

I am alone and it my house

With many water jugs of full stock.

I’ll never feel the ill effects of which I hear them talk.

People loot and plunder

A crazy sort of force.

This poisoned population seems no blunder,

The town’s well is the source.

I write this now in anticipation

Of the crazy new poisoned nation

This populace poisoned

These psycho people

Their morals asunder

This poison’s clearly now no blunder

There’s something in the water.

There’s something in the water they say.

I am the one who put it there to make them act this way.

In the Air Tonight

March 19, 2011

Wow. My first journal. Um, not sure what I’m supposed to write. My mother got me this because she says we will be staying inside a lot more. Something about Japan and their plants. I haven’t been keeping up with it. Schoolwork keeps me busy. Math, ugh. You’re pretty cool, mom marked all the pages with dates so I don’t need to do it. Cool!

Anyway, I guess I should name you. Tokyo is what I’ll call you, since I got you because of the stuff in Japan!

Mom just came, crying. Apparently the plant exploded, and lots of people were killed. That makes me sad.

March 20, 2011

Hello again, Tokyo. Dad brought home SO MUCH FOOD. I mean, like, whoa. He says we’re stocking up. I don’t know why. We’re in Washington. Japan is so far over the water.

Anyway, I heard from the TV in the living room that people are being asked to leave here! Dunno why! It’s so far away. Something about sickness in Japan and wind. Whatever. I’m sleepy.

March 21, 2011

March 22, 2011

So sorry I forgot to write in you yesterday, Tokyo! School and homework made me forget! But I have good news! School is cancelled! YAY! I’m so excited I am going to stay up all night. Sorry if I don’t write in you, mom and dad want to play board games. Apparently they don’t have work either!

March 23, 2011

Mom told me something weird, Tokyo. Apparently the particles from the explosion managed to travel all the way over here! Wow, I know right? We have to stay inside now and that makes me SAD! It’s so sunny!!!

I think I’m just going to go back to sleep. Today’s not worth it if I can never go outside again!

March 24, 2011

More boring times indoors. Bored games, haha. Aren’t I funny, Tokyo? For some reason the TV stopped working. Guess they are staying home too.

Not much to say. I thought I saw people outside today. Made me so mad! I want to go out!

March 25, 2011

Tokyo! I’m a bad girl! Haha.

I wasn’t supposed to go outside but I snuck out for just a second. I saw people walking around. Why can’t I go out? Huh? I should be allowed to. They look funny though. My parents must just want me to study while school is cancelled.

March 26, 2011

I don’t feel so good. Mom says its my allergies to dust. I told her that I usually spend my time outside, so that now that she’s making me stay in that I am getting sick. She looked sad.

Tokyo, why are they making me stay in? I love outside. I think I have a fever, I feel hot.

March 27, 2011

Tokyo, I feel sick. I’ve had allergies, but, my head hot. Feels bad. Hungry. Bread made me throw up. I feel bad. Gonna go to sleep.

March 28, 2011

Head hot. Feel bad. Hungry. Food no good. Hurt. Ow. Found can of meat. Meat good.

March 29, 2011

HEAD HOT FEEL BAD SKIN BYE MOM TASTY CANT FIND OTHER

March 30, 2011

TASTY MEAT DAD GOOD I GO OUT FIND MORE BURNING SKIN BAD

Heads Up

Find a penny, pick it up, and all day long you’ll have good luck.
—Children’s saying


Sally was a schoolyard scamp, and superstitious despite her young age. Her mother had inadvertently passed on her notions; most notably the notion that picking up a penny tails-up was bad luck.

That particular notion came about one day when her mother got into a spot of bad luck and blamed a penny.

“You leave that alone, John Michael!” she shouted at a poor kid going to pick up a coin on the ground one stormy recess.

She was a unique character in that she—like her mother—believed that only her ideals were the truth. The only real difference is that her mother had religious ideals and her ‘superstitions’ were little more than excuses that Sally happened to take as truth.

“I told you not to pick it up! Don’t you know what you’re doing?” she yelled as she slapped the penny out of John Michael’s hand.

When it landed, the coin was face-up. Sally saw this and leapt at the chance to prove her point about coins and luck.

She seized the coin and held it up high. “See?” she shouted at the children around her. “It’s like I say. Tails, bad! Heads, good! This was face-up. This is lucky!”

She was promptly struck by a bolt of irony.

Kids Say

“I’ll be right back,” said Martha, excusing herself from her guests to get more cheese and crackers. Martha and her young son, Steven, were entertaining their new next-door neighbors.

“Wanna hear a funny joke?” asked Steven in his most adorable voice. Steven was only five. “Mommy likes to say it and she laughs lots!”

“Sure, kiddo,” said Jake, one of the neighbors.

“Mommy says my daddy’s in the basement!” he said, smiling.

“What?” asked Sammie, Jake’s wife. They both looked at each other, confused and afraid.

“No,” Steven said. “You’re opposed to say ‘can I go see him?’”

“C-can I go see him?” Jake asked nervously.

“No! That’s not daddy. Daddy’s in the back yard!” Saying this, Steven laughed as he’d see his mother laugh telling him that.

Jake and Sammie laughed nervously.

“I hear some laughter,” Martha said. “What’s so funny?”

“Oh, nothing. Steven just told us a funny story,” answered Jake.

“Oh, well, you know what they say. Kids can say the darnedest things. More cheese?” Martha asked, practically begging them to stay.

I’m afraid we have to go now, though. Look at the time! So sorry to eat and run,” said Jake and Sammie as they scrambled to leave.

Martha frowned at Steven as her guests left. He looked up at her and clapped. “I guess they’ll be joining our old neighbors in the basement. And I was so hoping to keep them. They seemed so nice,” she said with a sigh.

Headlines

“Hey there!” I shouted at someone about to walk down a dark alleyway, alone. “Don’t you know that’s dangerous?”

“Well,” the young man stammered.

Angrily, I asked, “Well nothing! Don’t you know there are people in this world of ours who will try to kill you? Haven’t you read the news?”

“The serial killer? Yeah his latest victim was found yesterday in an alley. Gee, mister, you’re right. That last guy was alone too. I just never thought anything like this could happen to me,” the man replied. Finally, someone who listened to my reasoning.

“Yes, and it’s not safe to go home that way alone. I usually go the long way home, but I will gladly keep you company. It’s safer that way, wouldn’t you agree?” I was not about to take ‘no’ for an answer. Everyone in the city knew there was a killer on the loose, and I wasn’t about to have someone get this hapless gent.

“Why, thanks, mister,” the man replied as we walked down the dark alley. The air was thick from the lack of light. My lantern barely illuminated a foot ahead of us.

“Right, not too much longer now,” I said as we slowly walked forward, wary of any sounds. I reached into my pocket for my blade as a cat scurried across out path.

“My word!” the man squeaked, too scared to speak above a whisper.

“Calm yourself. There are scarier things in the world than a cat. Don’t you know there are people who will try to kill you?”

I’m sure he would have nodded in agreement had I not stabbed him in the throat. He should have known there were people who would try to kill people. Some would even succeed.

I cannot wait to see the newspaper tomorrow. I’m sure he’ll be front page news, just like my others. At least this one followed me willingly.

Friends Like These

Julie was afraid, alone, and about to die. On the fateful day, while on her morning run, a lady stopped as Julie went by.

“You!” the woman shouted at Julie as she came running along the sidewalk.

“Beg your pardon?” panted Julie as she skidded to a halt, catching her breath. She wondered what the bedraggled woman wanted.

“You!” the woman repeated, pointing a long, bony finger at her face.

Taking a step back, she decided that she needed to get as far away from the crazy lady as possible. She turned to run, but she was stopped by the woman’s shrill voice.

“Wait!” the lady said as her voice became less crazed and more worried. “You are going to die today!”

Julie almost tripped over her own feet when she head the woman tell her that. Doubting what she just heard, she asked, “What?”

“You heard me,” the woman responded. “Your friends will kill you!” After she said that, the woman ran back into her house before Julie could react.

Julie was rather shaken by everything that had just happened to her. She was superstitious, and knew that she had a party she was planning to attend that night. In fear for her life, she turned around ran straight home. Once there, she locked herself in, closed all the shades, and unplugged herself from the outside world by disconnecting her computer and phones. She even unplugged her television, as she knew someone who worked for the local news.

After some time, she slowly began to lose her mind from her constant state of panic. She began to move everything that was given to her by her friends into her garage, in a neat pile.

Once she had everything from her friends out of her house, she went around once again. This time, instead of gifts from friends, she was looking for the many pictures of her friends. She boxed them up and took them to the garage where she would put them on top of all the other scary items.

Unfortunately, for her, she was in such a panic she never bothered with proper stacking. When she placed the last box, the entire pile came crashing down. However, she managed to move out of the way of the tsunami of gifts.

She wasn’t, however, able to move out of the way of the box of photos. When it hit her, she was knocked backwards and into the window of her car.

The last thing that went through her head before the glass was to wonder if she would have been better off alone.

Friends Don’t Let Friends

I told him, friends don’t let friends go to jail. I told him how I butchered my parents. I wanted approval from my best friend. He lied to me. Lied when he said it was our secret.

He must have been disappointed when he heard that there was no evidence to suggest I committed these crimes, besides his word. They found prints all right. Prints on the knives used to chop my parents up, on the sliding door of the bathtub, and on the door knob both coming in and going out of the house.

All his prints. All from the day before, when I asked him to do some innocuous tasks. But, I stand by my rule. Friends don’t let friends go to jail.

Too bad he’s not my friend anymore.

Foresight

Julie was an average high school student who made average grades, and did average things a normal girl her age would. Well, that is until it came time for her to sleep. Death—now more than ever—filled Julie’s dreams.

Julie had been in a wreck that, by all reasonable means, should have killed her. After the wreck, Julie rarely slept. When she did, she would dream of how people were going to die the next day. Some were people she knew, others were complete strangers.

She used this foresight to help people to avoid dying, and because of this, she became know as the “Death Girl,” who could tell when someone was going to die and save them.

As a result of her popularity, she was given photos of the people she had saved. She hung them on the wall above her bed as a reminder of what service she was doing. She was helping people cheat death, as she herself had done in the accident. Her mother had saved her, sacrificing her own life to protect her. She literally should have died.

One night, in Julie’s dreams, she dreamt that there would be an earthquake and that something would fall on her head. Waking up, she quickly removed the pictures from above her, patting herself on the back for once again outsmarting Death.

That night, when she slept, the earthquake hit. It was just as she had foreseen. Almost. The quake shook loose a part of her ceiling, which came down on her, killing her. Before she died, she saw a vision of a man in a cloak. He told her that no one escapes him.

Several houses collapsed that night, and many people were killed. Curiously, the newspapers never put together that they were all the people Julie had saved.

Fences

Robert Frost once wrote that ‘fences make great neighbors.’

I don’t think my neighbors are that bad anymore. They used to be loud and obnoxious at all hours. All I really had to do was go and have a little talk with them.

You know, the more I think about it, I believe that Mr. Frost was talking about living neighbors.

Dad.txt

Jacob slammed his door loudly. He couldn’t believe the nerve of his father. Moments earlier, Jacob had gone into the kitchen of his parents’ house where he lived. All he wanted to do was eat, watch television, and surf the internet on his laptop.

His father, however, would have none of that. His son was in his mid twenties, jobless, and still living at home. He demanded that Jacob clean the living room, as was his regular duties, and asked him in a rather gruff tone if he had gotten a job yet—a question to which he already knew the answer was no.

Jacob, tired of hearing the same thing from his father daily, stormed out of the kitchen, leaving behind an open refrigerator and his laptop. As he left, he yelled obscenities at his father, and said he wished that he would just die already so he could go be with his mother in hell.

Jacob’s mother, Molly, had died earlier in the year when the car his father was driving hit a patch of ice and skidded into a ravine. Jacob constantly berated his father, whom he hated for—as he put it—killing his mother. There never was a solid father/son bond between him and his father to begin with, and his mother’s death destroyed what little there was.

Jacob, still fuming and tired from staying up all night playing his online games, went to sleep. When he woke up, he found the house curiously silent. His father usually was noisy at all hours; if it wasn’t his snoring, it was the sounds of him watching television.

Jacob ventured out of his room and called out to see if anyone was there. He poked around all the rooms until he got to the kitchen, where he saw his laptop closed, but still on.

Angry at the thought of his father messing with his computer, he snatched it up and turned on the television. Opening it, he booted it back up and went about seeing if his father had messed with anything.

There, on his desktop, was a curious file titled “dad.txt” that he was sure wasn’t there earlier. Curiosity getting the better of him, he opened it. In moments, he was filled with a deep sense of regret.

The document, which started off with things such as ‘I’m sorry;’ ‘I love you;’ and ‘Goodbye;’ was his father’s suicide note. It described how his wife’s death strained him, and how Jacob’s constant remarks about him and the accident were just too much for him to bear any more.

Cardinal Sins

I can’t go outside anymore. There are demonic beasts everywhere outside my house. I can see them from my window, watching me. I told my wife to be careful out there, and now she’s dead. She died of the illness these monsters carry.

They used to swarm us when we went to our car. She said they were making their home close to where we were walking. I saw the truth. They were attacking us, trying to kill us.

I can see the evil in their faces. Big black mask covering their eyes and their body a bright, bloody red. Their mouth is an elongated cone; the color of which looks like dried blood. This is, no doubt, from their other victims.

I sit here watching them, and they watch me. They are no doubt waiting for me to run out of food so that I will be forced to go outside. That’s when they will kill me.

I will sooner die of starvation rather than die by their clawed hands. It’s funny, though. I never understood as a child, but now I know why they call them the ‘cardinal’ sins.

Bug Man

Diane was home sick with the flu. She reluctantly dragged herself out of bed to answer the door. It was the bug man, who told her that her father had scheduled him to come spray the house.

Something about the man didn’t sit well with Diane, though. His uniform for Bugs-Be-Gon was old, worn, and stained. He also looked no more than in his mid twenties. She also thought his goatee and hair was a bit unkempt for someone who worked such a public job.

She shrugged this off in figuring that she was only 16 and didn’t know him, so she shouldn’t be so quick to judge as her father had always told her.

As he sprayed in her parents’ bedroom, she quickly called her father, just to let him know the guy was there and spraying for bugs. After a few seconds of talking to her father, Diane dropped the phone in terror.

“I don’t have anyone coming over,” her father had said.

That was the last anyone heard from Diane.

Blankets

Dear Susan,
I love you. I sent you out to get some milk because I knew that the monster had finally found us. I can hear him, shuffling about in the kitchen, looking for me. It’s okay though. I’m safe here.

When we were children and we heard the monster, we would go to the only safe place we could find: our beds.

I’m hiding in the one place he can never find me. The monster can only hurt us if he can see us, and I am safe under these blankets.

What’s funny is there’s enough light to write this lett—oh. These blankets are flannel. They’re see-through.

Run. It’s not safe hersgdfhssYOUARENEXT