The Labyrinth by Zach
Running through the labyrinth, I hear the manticore roar. Crap! I’m going the wrong way!
I turn around.
Feeling the wall for anything I only find the rough stone. Hoping for anything I feel a round, smooth surface of a doorknob. I twist it and feel a twinge of pain for Sandy, stolen by the manticore, surely dead. Again I turn around.
Running back to the beast, I can still hear the cries of Sandy. She is alive! I sprint back in the direction of the cries. I see her. Surprisingly, the manticore's room is lit up.
“It’s just you and me now!” I exclaim.
I run at the beast, fists ablaze. The mighty beast swats me away. I run at it again. This time it grabs me. It puts me in its mouth. I only feel pain for a second. Then its gone, all gone.
Pain by Karleigh
I sit here, cement walls surround me. I don’t know where I am. I can feel my arms burning. I look down at them and see cuts. Then I remember, I’m in a mental hospital and I know exactly why.
It was about 8:45 p.m. when I did the unthinkable. I remember feeling depressed, mad, frustrated, etc… It felt like I was going to explode. I remember washing blood off my arms. I must’ve cut but that’s not all I did. After I washed my arms I put a sweatshirt on and went outside. I remember walking for a while until I got to the bridge. I stood on the edge for a few minutes and then jumped off. I tried committing suicide. That is why I am here.
I don’t remember much after that. I must have gone unconscious. Someone saw me and saved me. If that didn’t happen I would have been dead. I have depression and I need more help than I thought. I still have one question left. What is going to happen to me?
Stranded by Evelyn
Have you ever wondered how many stars there are in the galaxy? 400,567,822,000. I’ve counted, twice. But that’s just a number, so is 322. That's how many days I’ve been here, stranded. That's the best way I can describe it: stranded. Never know knowing which way to turn. But for now I can only move forward hoping I can survive my state of mind that's keeping me trapped here.
Those numbers I said before don’t mean anything. I’ve learned that we plan our lives over a course of time so everything goes right. Time is just a way we track our lives. We work our whole lives just to arrive solely in death. We try to excel but we never do. Am I the only one who feels like this? How can I be this alone? How is it possible I am the only one here, stranded.
No one has been here, not even trying to find me, I’ve been here for what seems like forever. But does anyone care? No. I try to get their attention in any way I can. Calling, crying, setting up signs. I’ve seen helicopters, but they come less and less now. I know they have stopped looking for me. But somehow I keep faith. Everyday I stride back and forth, alone. My only companion is the wind that sweeps these barren lands. You might be wondering how I have survived this long out here, stranded. Simple: I have no occupations to keep me tied down.
Yet I’m still stranded here, possibly forever.
Man in the mist by Evelyn
Sitting on the cold, hard bench out in the middle of the damp park I start to wonder. The twinkling stars seeming to laugh at me as I stare straight ahead. The wind rustling and howling, stirring up the fallen leaves from the ground. The moon started peeking out from behind the clouds, sheepishly. Looking up at the moon I hear a splash. I stiffen, gazing around. Clearly I was the only one here, which made me shiver even more.
The rain started to mist and then turned into a light drizzle. A feeling washed over me all the sudden. I stood up. Taking one step, I heard a snap and I whirled around, finding nothing. I took another step, and another. The steps turned into a brisk walk, then a run. Feeling like I’m flying down the old park path, I glanced back. Wrong choice. Colliding with someone, I recovered and took a step back, looking at his face. I screamed in shock; it was dripping in blood. His one eye looked at me and where the other one was supposed to be there was a gaping hole. He had most of his face missing. Tuffs of blonde hair covered his head. In one hand he held a scythe and the other was gone.
Backing up so fast and turning to run, something grabbed me. I felt slimy hands grab my shoulders and push me to the ground, landing in a puddle next to a malled corpse. I tried to scream, but nothing came out. The figures loomed around me, blood dripping from their weapons. One reached for my face with a rusty dagger and I felt the tip against my face until immense pain erupted from where my eye once was. The other figure held up his scythe and the last thing I saw was a smile crawl onto his face and then nothing as I felt the blade pierce my chest.
Pain Fiction by Noa
Brownie was the nicest chicken in the world. Brownie would never peck another chicken or be mean in any way. But that didn’t mean the other chickens were nice to Brownie. They would always peck on her and push her off the perches at night if she was sitting in a spot somebody else wanted to sit in. And for some reason whenever the fox came to the yard where all the chickens liked to hang out it would always go after her. She would always get away though since the fox wasn’t very smart. Spring was Brownie's favorite season, but not because it was warm and sunny or because all the bugs started to come out. It was because she had a way to become the boss of her own flock. Brownie would sit on the nest every spring for 21 days to hatch the 14 eggs she was sitting on. The other chickens would get excited and want to see the newly hatched chickens but not one chicken would dare go near them. Every spring when the eggs hatched Brownie would go crazy. Her eyes go red and her feathers are out of place. No chicken could come up to Brownie or the chickens would run in the opposite direction as fast as they could. Even the fox wouldn’t think about chasing Brownie around, she would kick, peck, and claw at anybody who came close. She was the protector of her own flock.
Pain by Michaela
I sit here waiting for him to show up. After waiting for two hours out in the cold bitter air, I realize he’s not coming. I thought we had a connection in some way, but I guess not. I walk home alone after cancelling the dinner reservations that we had made together about three weeks ago. I check my phone; dead of course. It began to rain. and that made me realize nobody wants me. Nobody will ever want me.
The next day I went for a walk downtown to get my mind off of the things that happened last night. I think that taking that walk today was a bad idea. I felt like I was punched in the stomach with just a glance across the street. I felt like the whole world froze while my world was still continuing, but the real world hit me. Again. I saw him sitting with a girl, a blonde about 5’4. My heart dropped for the second time. Not even in twenty-four hours.
I continue with my walk downtown hoping I don’t see him. I see him again. This time he is alone. I thought to myself: Should I go talk to him? Should I confront him that I saw him with another girl when I’m not even sure what is happening between us? I decide not to. I walk away. Yet again I walk home alone. Once I was home I checked my phone to see if it had charged all the way. Once I turned on my phone I saw that I had four missed calls and two messages, from him. I dropped my phone. I stood still for what seemed to be 15 minutes. Once I realized that he called me I quickly called back.
“Hello?” he answered.
“Hi, I saw that you called last night.” I responded.
“Yeah, I was calling to tell you I can’t do this anymore.”
“What do you mean you can’t do this anymore?”
“I can’t do this anymore and what I mean by this I mean me and you.”
“Oh okay. Bye.”
I hang up the phone and begin to cry. I can’t believe that just happened. After all that we have been through. Now he's just leaving me with no explanation. I guess he was a waste of my time. But it still hurts that it seems like he was just using me this whole time.
The Tree by Dan
After almost an hour of searching for her, my head was filled with things that I must say. Things that were urgent, imperative; so many of these things that I couldn’t even count them all and would’ve undoubtedly stammered like an imbecile trying to convey every point of equal cruciality if I had met her under different circumstances.
But when I saw her perched in that tree, one look purged every last thought from my mind. That one look, the one that has died on the face of so many unfortunate souls before us; not even the most atrocious cur deserves to suffer the emotions that can evoke such a lacerated look from within oneself. This single glance held so much pain, so much strife, yet not a single tear gleamed in either eye. It was a gaze of unconditional resignation from existence itself, defying even our most deeply-rooted instincts of self-preservation.
As I locked eyes her, the entire world seemed to cease to exist. I could’ve stood there for seconds, or days. All that my suddenly blank consciousness could register was an overwhelming, crushing sorrow. After a costly and toilsome struggle, I finally regained dominion over my mentality. Just in time to be crushed into submission to misery once again.
It was not a look this time, but a noise. The kind of noise that makes unnerving shudders travel the length of your body several times over. This sound was not a screech, like nails on a chalkboard, but a snap. A snap that rung out through the seemingly-dreamlike serenity of the forest with unprecedented clarity as the serpent-like rope caught her falling body. Startled crows seemed to flee to carry the news of her demise to far-away lands. The rope creaked as her body swung like a pendulum; my last thought was of her suffering these last agonizing seconds of paralyzed strangulation before abandoning this world, and me.
When I finally ascended from the dark abyss of grief that I had fallen into, still kneeling on the forest floor, I began to climb the tree myself.
Running through the labyrinth, I hear the manticore roar. Crap! I’m going the wrong way!
I turn around.
Feeling the wall for anything I only find the rough stone. Hoping for anything I feel a round, smooth surface of a doorknob. I twist it and feel a twinge of pain for Sandy, stolen by the manticore, surely dead. Again I turn around.
Running back to the beast, I can still hear the cries of Sandy. She is alive! I sprint back in the direction of the cries. I see her. Surprisingly, the manticore's room is lit up.
“It’s just you and me now!” I exclaim.
I run at the beast, fists ablaze. The mighty beast swats me away. I run at it again. This time it grabs me. It puts me in its mouth. I only feel pain for a second. Then its gone, all gone.
Pain by Karleigh
I sit here, cement walls surround me. I don’t know where I am. I can feel my arms burning. I look down at them and see cuts. Then I remember, I’m in a mental hospital and I know exactly why.
It was about 8:45 p.m. when I did the unthinkable. I remember feeling depressed, mad, frustrated, etc… It felt like I was going to explode. I remember washing blood off my arms. I must’ve cut but that’s not all I did. After I washed my arms I put a sweatshirt on and went outside. I remember walking for a while until I got to the bridge. I stood on the edge for a few minutes and then jumped off. I tried committing suicide. That is why I am here.
I don’t remember much after that. I must have gone unconscious. Someone saw me and saved me. If that didn’t happen I would have been dead. I have depression and I need more help than I thought. I still have one question left. What is going to happen to me?
Stranded by Evelyn
Have you ever wondered how many stars there are in the galaxy? 400,567,822,000. I’ve counted, twice. But that’s just a number, so is 322. That's how many days I’ve been here, stranded. That's the best way I can describe it: stranded. Never know knowing which way to turn. But for now I can only move forward hoping I can survive my state of mind that's keeping me trapped here.
Those numbers I said before don’t mean anything. I’ve learned that we plan our lives over a course of time so everything goes right. Time is just a way we track our lives. We work our whole lives just to arrive solely in death. We try to excel but we never do. Am I the only one who feels like this? How can I be this alone? How is it possible I am the only one here, stranded.
No one has been here, not even trying to find me, I’ve been here for what seems like forever. But does anyone care? No. I try to get their attention in any way I can. Calling, crying, setting up signs. I’ve seen helicopters, but they come less and less now. I know they have stopped looking for me. But somehow I keep faith. Everyday I stride back and forth, alone. My only companion is the wind that sweeps these barren lands. You might be wondering how I have survived this long out here, stranded. Simple: I have no occupations to keep me tied down.
Yet I’m still stranded here, possibly forever.
Man in the mist by Evelyn
Sitting on the cold, hard bench out in the middle of the damp park I start to wonder. The twinkling stars seeming to laugh at me as I stare straight ahead. The wind rustling and howling, stirring up the fallen leaves from the ground. The moon started peeking out from behind the clouds, sheepishly. Looking up at the moon I hear a splash. I stiffen, gazing around. Clearly I was the only one here, which made me shiver even more.
The rain started to mist and then turned into a light drizzle. A feeling washed over me all the sudden. I stood up. Taking one step, I heard a snap and I whirled around, finding nothing. I took another step, and another. The steps turned into a brisk walk, then a run. Feeling like I’m flying down the old park path, I glanced back. Wrong choice. Colliding with someone, I recovered and took a step back, looking at his face. I screamed in shock; it was dripping in blood. His one eye looked at me and where the other one was supposed to be there was a gaping hole. He had most of his face missing. Tuffs of blonde hair covered his head. In one hand he held a scythe and the other was gone.
Backing up so fast and turning to run, something grabbed me. I felt slimy hands grab my shoulders and push me to the ground, landing in a puddle next to a malled corpse. I tried to scream, but nothing came out. The figures loomed around me, blood dripping from their weapons. One reached for my face with a rusty dagger and I felt the tip against my face until immense pain erupted from where my eye once was. The other figure held up his scythe and the last thing I saw was a smile crawl onto his face and then nothing as I felt the blade pierce my chest.
Pain Fiction by Noa
Brownie was the nicest chicken in the world. Brownie would never peck another chicken or be mean in any way. But that didn’t mean the other chickens were nice to Brownie. They would always peck on her and push her off the perches at night if she was sitting in a spot somebody else wanted to sit in. And for some reason whenever the fox came to the yard where all the chickens liked to hang out it would always go after her. She would always get away though since the fox wasn’t very smart. Spring was Brownie's favorite season, but not because it was warm and sunny or because all the bugs started to come out. It was because she had a way to become the boss of her own flock. Brownie would sit on the nest every spring for 21 days to hatch the 14 eggs she was sitting on. The other chickens would get excited and want to see the newly hatched chickens but not one chicken would dare go near them. Every spring when the eggs hatched Brownie would go crazy. Her eyes go red and her feathers are out of place. No chicken could come up to Brownie or the chickens would run in the opposite direction as fast as they could. Even the fox wouldn’t think about chasing Brownie around, she would kick, peck, and claw at anybody who came close. She was the protector of her own flock.
Pain by Michaela
I sit here waiting for him to show up. After waiting for two hours out in the cold bitter air, I realize he’s not coming. I thought we had a connection in some way, but I guess not. I walk home alone after cancelling the dinner reservations that we had made together about three weeks ago. I check my phone; dead of course. It began to rain. and that made me realize nobody wants me. Nobody will ever want me.
The next day I went for a walk downtown to get my mind off of the things that happened last night. I think that taking that walk today was a bad idea. I felt like I was punched in the stomach with just a glance across the street. I felt like the whole world froze while my world was still continuing, but the real world hit me. Again. I saw him sitting with a girl, a blonde about 5’4. My heart dropped for the second time. Not even in twenty-four hours.
I continue with my walk downtown hoping I don’t see him. I see him again. This time he is alone. I thought to myself: Should I go talk to him? Should I confront him that I saw him with another girl when I’m not even sure what is happening between us? I decide not to. I walk away. Yet again I walk home alone. Once I was home I checked my phone to see if it had charged all the way. Once I turned on my phone I saw that I had four missed calls and two messages, from him. I dropped my phone. I stood still for what seemed to be 15 minutes. Once I realized that he called me I quickly called back.
“Hello?” he answered.
“Hi, I saw that you called last night.” I responded.
“Yeah, I was calling to tell you I can’t do this anymore.”
“What do you mean you can’t do this anymore?”
“I can’t do this anymore and what I mean by this I mean me and you.”
“Oh okay. Bye.”
I hang up the phone and begin to cry. I can’t believe that just happened. After all that we have been through. Now he's just leaving me with no explanation. I guess he was a waste of my time. But it still hurts that it seems like he was just using me this whole time.
The Tree by Dan
After almost an hour of searching for her, my head was filled with things that I must say. Things that were urgent, imperative; so many of these things that I couldn’t even count them all and would’ve undoubtedly stammered like an imbecile trying to convey every point of equal cruciality if I had met her under different circumstances.
But when I saw her perched in that tree, one look purged every last thought from my mind. That one look, the one that has died on the face of so many unfortunate souls before us; not even the most atrocious cur deserves to suffer the emotions that can evoke such a lacerated look from within oneself. This single glance held so much pain, so much strife, yet not a single tear gleamed in either eye. It was a gaze of unconditional resignation from existence itself, defying even our most deeply-rooted instincts of self-preservation.
As I locked eyes her, the entire world seemed to cease to exist. I could’ve stood there for seconds, or days. All that my suddenly blank consciousness could register was an overwhelming, crushing sorrow. After a costly and toilsome struggle, I finally regained dominion over my mentality. Just in time to be crushed into submission to misery once again.
It was not a look this time, but a noise. The kind of noise that makes unnerving shudders travel the length of your body several times over. This sound was not a screech, like nails on a chalkboard, but a snap. A snap that rung out through the seemingly-dreamlike serenity of the forest with unprecedented clarity as the serpent-like rope caught her falling body. Startled crows seemed to flee to carry the news of her demise to far-away lands. The rope creaked as her body swung like a pendulum; my last thought was of her suffering these last agonizing seconds of paralyzed strangulation before abandoning this world, and me.
When I finally ascended from the dark abyss of grief that I had fallen into, still kneeling on the forest floor, I began to climb the tree myself.