Fantasy

A Destiny Unmatched
The smell of fresh brewed coffee and smudged lipstick on the edge of a mug was a far distant memory withheld in my brain. I slowly seeped back into my chair to realize that this is the last time I will ever feel such ease. For the rest of what I will live out to be I will constantly look over my shoulder in desperation of the fact that I am not normal, or never was. Sheltering myself from insanity and the obstruct judgement of just about anyone was a common practice. Almost as common as brushing your teeth or sipping water. I was never great at hiding it, the indifferent portrayal I display. My mind ponders the seven seas and for a split second I grasp reality only to find that I did not even know what that was. Everything was a figment of imagination. I was never blending in only keeping myself an outcast. Striving for the day I can finally catch a breath I realize now this was a fate far stretched. Captivated by winged creatures fighting a destiny I could not allow; I had no choice but to break free. The room went dark, my mind traveled faster than my pacing heart. Reaching for the light within my wildest dreams I found the ticket to set me free. The keeper will know where I shall go, but how must I escape. Without being caught I moved my constrained hands from the back of me clinging to a blade. Releasing myself from the bounties of wicked fools I could then see far above from me a glimmer of hope, an open door. Scaling the walls within me I found the strength to do the impossible. Unlatching myself from a dungeon of emptiness I was then thrown into the white glare. Suddenly laying in a meadow of ‘lollygaggers’ and daisies it reoccurred in my mind I was still fighting freedom. Transported into a dimension of cold flesh with a welcoming face I knew I was still roaming in a destructive hibernation. Falling over every step I ran until I could take no more breaths; rolling downhill into a forbidden land I could not be touched. The sun hazed over me welcoming me with such grace. Although my journey has only begun; I fear this might be my last moment of forgiving warmth. Chills rushed down my body as the cracks of branches grew closer I instinctively knew I was not alone. My mind was unlocking new divine attention as every hour passed; I was gifted. A power I did not know I had, it all seemed a blur at first and quite mesmerizing. I don’t know where this started or how I even got to where I am. The last memory I carry was being pulled away from all I knew. It was all in flames, collapsed buildings, flipped cars, children yelling from the top of their lungs with no one to save them. Then it all went blank and suddenly I was chasing after life gripping on to all I had left, this golden locket of love. Feeling close to what I once knew showered my entire body in magic knowing I can one day find who placed it in my hands. Tired of sprinting and inhaling thin air I needed to rest away from it all. I found a tree where I climbed and laid for the night gazing at what I could soon be. Praying on a whim for salvation and a sign. The birds cross my eyes horizon with a sincerity that I would soon get my answer. The day stopped and I rose again at the crack of dawn with eagerness. Carefully descending from the roots that held me I met the floor once again. With a growling belly and quench for thirst I’ve mentally prepared for my next expedition, there was no time to rest. Smoke filled the air as a cult of ogres and vultures gathered nearby. An instant overwhelming gut feeling of destruction; I was being hunted. I must not stop for I must fulfill my mission that whoever so willingly gave me their beauty to hold I was required to return. With trouble dividing our souls collided into a forgotten promise. I told myself I would not give up. Crawling through tall grass I was able to pass the unmentionable doom I so closely encountered. To be greeted by a loving hand pulling me up, was my fight over?“It was you”, I said with shriveling lips. Tears rolled down my face as you wiped them away so effortlessly with your smile. I knew we would meet again, my twin flame. You saved me…I am home.
By Y.A.N.A. 5 years ago in Fiction
The Change in the World
The cities were abandoned. That first night when skyscrapers fell like dominos, the mad rush to get out was overwhelming. Thousands lost their lives that night. No one knew how or why, but something was coming and something didn't like us.
By Jess5 years ago in Fiction
Banishment
He cried. He cried and cried and cried until he woke up, not realizing he’d cried himself to sleep. He opened his eyes and was met with confusion followed by understanding and sorrow. She was gone. He didn’t know if he’d ever see her again, but he knew how slim the chances were. She’d been banished. Kicked out of the safety of the walls and thrown into the Forbidden Lands, where she wasn’t likely to last a day. At least it hadn’t rained last night. Eventually, he rose, rubbing crust from his eyes with his forearm, and dragging himself from his bed and out of his small house, which was being held together by scraps of metal, wood, plastic, and whatever else he could get his hands on. He didn’t care that he still wore his worn and torn nightgown or that his blonde hair lay matted wildly on his head. He went to use an outhouse near a huge wall reinforced by layers of wood, bricks, etc. Eventually, he returned home to lay back on his bed, facing the ceiling and staring. He thought about how what was happening was his fault, and how the love of his life and his unborn child were alone and in danger. He started contemplating ways to escape the walls surrounding him, starting to feel more and more trapped by the second, as though the walls were closing around him and he was growing at twice their speed. He sat up, realizing how heavy each breath came. He looked toward his door, longing for fresh air, but dreading moving. He lay on his side and stared into space, when he heard a voice from within his home.
By Da’mon-Ahsy Eugene Thompson5 years ago in Fiction
The Never Times
I tell stories of the Before Times to the young ones, even though my feelings can directly connect to their souls. There are few of us that kept earthly bodies and can weave stories in the Now Times. Now we all simply exist out of bodies connected within our higher selves, the atoms of all souls wound together. I am writing this on Earth and I’m the last. I cannot let go of a corporeal existence. When I slip back and feel my ego, I’m obligated to record the knowledge. This is how I told them the story of us.
By ELENA5 years ago in Fiction
Showgirls
"12:16. What a typical afternoon. Just waking up in -- oh god, is this my room? Yes, bed. My bed. Score one for the now sober beaver. Okay, girl so you made your way home, and with your old aunties heart shaped locket in tow right there on the dresser in front of the mirror left behind by mother and father - god rest their souls.
By Misty Moon5 years ago in Fiction
What I Found in the Rubble
The meek have inherited the earth. When all the superpowers collapsed themselves there was no one left to deprive us of it. Although they didn't exactly leave a paradise; all the comforts of the modern age went with them. Some people blame the Americans. Others blame the Koreans and the Chinese. Others blame various countries of the Middle East, and still others blame Russia. It doesn't matter now; none of those countries exist anymore. As far as I know, there are no countries whatsoever anymore. The people at the controls might've discriminated, but nuclear fire was more indifferent: It took out everyone, and everything that was on the surface. There was no sign, no warning, no time to intentionally duck and cover. Only those of us who happened to be underground at the time survived the impact, but only a fraction weren't crushed by debris, inevitably starved, or succumbed to oxygen deprivation.
By Noelle Spaulding 5 years ago in Fiction
Doomsday locket
A heart. He could never say, “I love you” but this locket he gave her was in the shape of a heart. She had come that close to being zipped into the forced unity of Russia and Japan. The zipper pulling up to her neck caught on the locket and gave it its heart shape.
By Alice Eckles5 years ago in Fiction
The Place Beyond the Pain
Her eyebrow sweat, as her throat becomes dry and her palms become moist, indicating nervousness for what lies ahead. Mallory Harrison is a human rights lawyer, something she always dreamed of becoming but never realized how much work it would become. Today she is presenting to her firm, a case that would originate in Germany, but arrived in Atlanta. A woman sex trafficked, slaved in the United States. Mallory’s client was stabbed, raped, bitten and bloody. Mallory is fighting for her and all the other women affected by Sex Traffic; boldly Mallory is pushing for strict proposal of law in Georgia. Bobby, her best friend, is seated and supportive, the room is filled with every board member, and she begins presenting along with Bobby’s assistance. Mallory sees a smile from Bobby, only sending butterflies through her already anxious body. As she gets through the presentation, there is a moment of hesitancy as she walks out the room, unsure of the tone of the board’s opinions. “You were amazing in there!” Said Bobby. However, Mallory begins to question herself, “was it enough? Should I have pushed harder? Did I speak clearly?” She thought. Mallory headed back to her desk with a sense of dread, wondering what they might say. “They just sat there and starred at me, making unpleasant faces” she whispers to herself. Mallory wonders if she should approach a member of the board to get a better understand but instead attempts to get back to work on her usual cases. As the day goes on, Mallory questions what the decision of the board will be. Her confidence begins to wither away as each hour passes. Second-guessing every decision, she makes, eventually its 5:00PM, she packs up and heads home. Greeted by darkness, she throws her things down, heats up her dinner before heading off to bed. Unenthusiastic, and feeling defeated by the silence and remarks of the faces of those old men of the board; she quickly falls into a deep sleep.
By Meghan Beauchamp5 years ago in Fiction
The Well
The Well By Walt Allen Sanford knew it was an important job. That doesn't mean it was exciting. That's the thing about lying in wait. It was boring. It was a good day if you didn't have to do anything. Sitting in the blind looking downrange at the well. And hopefully, seeing nothing. That was a good day.
By Walt Allen5 years ago in Fiction
The Wizard of Walls
A story like this has never been told before. Many people have heard of the Wizard of Oz but no many know about the Wizard of Walls. The good news is you don’t have to get caught in a tornado to meet him. You just have to go into his shop but he is still a mystery to behold. One small boy and his family can attest to this.
By Erika Ravnsborg5 years ago in Fiction
Submissive Evil
We returned to the Underworld after my memories were restored and stayed close to the Fold. It called us to stay near, as if it wanted company with the ever encroaching end bearing down on it. Everyday we knelt beside it with our children and waited for our world to crumble apart. We waited for a sign that there might be something we could do to stop the darkness from consuming the Overworld and tearing through the Fold to the Other Worlds that didn’t deserve the destruction. Atlas and I knew we weren’t enough. Our children were feeble and gentle creatures. We would need an army strapped to the bone with rage to walk into the Overworld and overthrow the high-lords and defeat the Darkness growing there. Without one we were no match against it's might. So, we waited.
By J. L. Cross5 years ago in Fiction
Isolation
There were dark spots in her vision, and her head was pounding. She turned her head to the side, squinting in hopes it would allow her to see something, anything.
By Janiyah Connor5 years ago in Fiction