A Wish Granted: A Short Story

My eyes open. A crisp, cold wind blows through my my window and hits my face.The whistle of the fall air flows through one ear and out the other. It was quiet. The sound of nothingness was fiercely stopped by the blaring on my alarm clock. October 13, 2015, at 9:30 AM, I roll over and hit my alarm clock, The repetitive sound disappears. I throw my sheets to the side and step onto the cold wooden floor. I grab a pair of

The night air was heavy with silence. Clouds drifted across a calm sky, and a full moon shone in the distance. In a small hut on the outskirts of the valley, an old man lay in bed, awake in the peaceful slumber of the village. His breaths came in rattling gasps, his forehead burned, and his joints felt stiff with pain. He shifted on the blankets, his withered hands clenched in fists as he tried to suppress the wave of bitter memories coming to him. His life had been nothing more than work, loss, tragedy. He remembered all of his hope, his ambition, in his youth, and he smiled bitterly. No one would remember him as the man that he had once hoped he would become. Now, as his breathing became heavier and he felt himself fading on the brink of

A morbid melancholy stole over me. Anxiety gnawed at my heart. I was a living corpse. There was a feeling of chill in the air every day as I felt. I faked illness so as not to go to school. Despair hangs heavy in the stifling air. It was a dreary day for me , cold and without sunshine. I dread people and always avoid people. The door was locked from the inside. A cold grey light crept under the curtains. The windows were secured with locks and bars. The room felt cold and sterile.The flowers faded for want of water. A single lamp was suspended from the ceiling. The clock ticked louder and louder in a quiet room. I regarded the room as a refuge from the outside

The sun was kissing the horizon; the day was just beginning, and the sweet sounds of the birds morning sound had awakened me. I was sitting in the same spot I do day after day, happy and well rested. I awoke from my peaceful slumber with a large, clanging chime that echoed off the walls and the roof. The sounds of footsteps stomped down the stairs, and there, as always, was Todd. And as he always does, he shuffled his way to the kitchen and turned on the coffee. Finally, as the aroma of burnt coffee grounds filled the air, a new day had begun.

It was 5 A.M. and my thoughts were everywhere. I kept tossing and turning, desperately trying to fall asleep, but knowing I couldn't. I finally slipped out of bed, carefully so that I wouldn't wake up Olivia, and proceeded to walk down the stairs. I sat down on the living room couch and exhaled deeply as I stared into the sunroof.

Sister Muriel, who was also my grandmother, and who I affectionately referred to as granny, was a bit more tired than usual on the eve of December 10, 1958. She headed to the Sisters' dorm a little earlier than usual. She climbed the stairs and enjoyed the cool breeze that blew against her face. That night she felt reflective about the good times with her husband. She missed him. However, the quiet, cool evening allowed her to sleep restfully, that is—until she was jarred awake and saw the entire building lit up around each of the bunks. Muriel’s daughter Barbara, who is also my mother, was on the bunk above. She expressed how beautiful the light was on the hill. By this time the whole dorm was awake. Although it may have seemed beautiful to Barbara, my grandmother Muriel, was

I woke to shouting and banging on my door. I grabbed my pocket watch from the side of my bed; it read 4 o’clock. Who would be at my door this early in the morning? I thought. My body was dragged from the bed as I trudged along to my front door.

As I listened for the constant scuffling of rats scampering around in the rusty pipes, I tried counting to ten. In the darkness, I went in and out of consciousness, images of my mother and father replaying behind my lids. After a while, I drifted off to a half-conscious sleep riddled with jolts of fear and pangs of hunger. I could no longer close my eyes without seeing the nightmares that have plagued me since I was young.

An immense pressure bore in her head as she slowly awoke from her midday slumber, her daydreams slowly fading away from her mind. Reality sunk in, and she found herself awake. Dim light shone through the windows and it pierced her eyes, worse than a thousand needles ever could. Her mental screams sounded that of countless condemned souls, shrieking for life

I looked up at the black sky. I hadn't intended to be out this late. The sun had set, and the empty road ahead had no streetlights. I knew I was in for a dark journey home. I had decided that by traveling through the forest would be the quickest way home. Minutes passed, yet it seemed like hours and days. The farther I traveled into the forest, the darker it seemed to get. I was very had to even take a breath due to the stifling air. The only sound familiar to me was the quickening beat of my own heart, which felt as though it was about to come through my chest. I began to whistled to take my mind off the eerie noises I was hearing. In this kind of darkness I was in, it was hard for me to believe that I could be

Her eyes struggled to stay open, slowly blinking but never closing. Droplets from the clouds rolled down the windowpane, like copycats of those running down her face. The night was dark with shadows. The only sounds in the house were the plump raindrops falling on the windowsill, the clinking of beer bottles and the sound of her nervous breath. She had to stay awake for she had left the moment he had passed out on the dusty couch in the living room. Her sweaty palms clutched the leather straps of her bag. Her body shook like a small dog’s and the wind made the trees sway like the ghosts of everything she’d ever known. The sound finally came and so did the closing of her bedroom door.

Throughout my life, I’ve gone through everything that could possibly put me in emotional distress. I’ve been down a broken road with my father, the man I love so much I’ll make every excuse for whenever he disappoints me. I’ve encountered life where it’s not so enjoyable due to unacceptance and never ending judgment by my biggest critic, my mother, the woman whom I should feel most secure with. However despite the emotional mounds of pain these matters carry, I was able to lift the suffocating weight long enough to realize everything that burdened me, made me strong enough to have the will power to be independent and make life changing decisions on my own. At three years old, I met my biological father in a local supermarket’s parking lot; I remember vividly, the exact moment when this stranger held me in his broad, strong arms. I recall screaming at an immense volume not even laying eyes on him. All I had been focused on was finding my mother, the woman who played both parental roles in my life. This clearly justified the great state of confusion I was in in his presence since I wasn’t at all aware I even had a father. As I grew older, the visits to my father’s house became the norm and having begun developed a “best friend” type of relationship with him, I found myself crying more and more when I had to go back to my mom’s settlement. I never wanted to leave; my life became filled with happiness, filled with a father’s love I had never felt

3:40 am, I had awoken, sweating from anxiety, but somehow shivering. My shoulders especially, were cold to the touch. I had walked to the window sill in my sleep again, which had made it the third time that week. When I looked down, I saw blood and froze; it was Kitty. She let out another scream, and I realized it was her voice whom I heard crying, not my own. I was not dreaming anymore. How could I be so ignorant? My head told me to run to the phone, but my body froze, I was weak from shock by both my own night terror, and Kitty’s forsaken body. I swear, I told my mind to move a thousand times; fear had paralyzed me.

My sister and I stayed home alone that night in what seemed like the quietest house we’ve ever been in. It had been a long and exhausting day. We departed to our rooms hoping to get some sleep, but that was not the case. I couldn’t stop thinking

At night, beyond the public eye, the rooftop comforts me, provides me a my safe haven. I hear the wind whispering my name to escape: but I do not listen. Being in my own world ushers a feeling of fright, yet also comes as a relief. With no one there to judge me; I sit alone, with the company of my inner demons.. I close my eyes, my demons have assailed me all day, midnight is their time. The void of judgment has remained. It’s dark, but at the end you see a flash of light. So, I walk in the obesity of my mind where the darkness has taken over. The sense of being paralyzed comes to my mind, my fears are woken up and the sense of neglect is off. I smell fear all around. I do not smell the smoke from the burning wood I left. The smell of fear and sweat are much more dominant,I feel my hands are getting sweaty, my body frozen, paralyzed. My heart beats faster than ever before. My Demons have become vigorous. An explosion of fear, rage, sadness and anxiety overwhelms me, but I cannot wake up. Powerless, my demons pull me into the darkest depths of my mind where I try to hold on for dear mercy.