Short Story Chapter 1

And then I saw what seemed to be the prodigy side of me--because I had never seen that face before. I looked at my reflection, blinking so I could see more clearly. The girl staring back at me was angry, powerful. This girl and I were the same. I had new thoughts, willful thoughts, or rather thoughts filled with lots of won 'ts.

The familiar, tortured strain of my mother’s voice curdled my stomach. I flung open my bedroom door and sprinted into the living room. My lungs were on fire. My eyes darted around the room frantically until they landed on him. There he was, the man I was forced to call my father. He lumbered towards me, this big atrocity of a creature, swaying dangerously from side to side. His dark, hooded eyes met mine. A supercilious, arrogant smirk was plastered onto his face. Tumescent flesh spilt from the sides of his leather belt, his stomach jutting out comically. He was a man with barely any neck, the red flush of alcohol staining his pug-like face. Oh, how the sight of him boiled my blood.

Hinton, an amiable tobacco planter in Virginia, inspected the mill infrequently and trusted him to make an honest trade. There was no way to forecast when loggers would arrive, depending on the weather and the wind and water currents so Matthew remained available year-round. He was tall, burley with bushy, red hair, and freckles that almost connected into a solidly tan face. People never forgot him because his freckles were such an assortment of colors, red, brown, tan, beige, pink, auburn, rust, black, and orange. He entertained visitors with stories of animals and men fighting themselves and each other along with spine-tingling stories about ghosts and Indians that intimidated the settlers. If they were true, it did not matter.

Lifty huffed, snuffing his cough back into his throat as he chucked Petunia into his bedroom.

I can’t be this person anymore. I can’t lead this life. It hurts too much. I’m tired of loving, I hate you and I’m tired of hating I love you.” She whispered softly with a calming voice, though filled with sadness. The melody seemed to just flow out of her like a mountain stream tumbling up and down over weather-worn rocks just the sound of her voice made the room feel colder. Gritting my teeth and forcing myself to stand it was my turn to look away and study the white walls. I shook my head bewildered. The devil wasn’t finished yet with wrecking my life. I opened my mouth to respond, hoping to repair the damage, but nothing came out. It felt like my vocal cords were paralyzed. Ingrid sat there thinking, the renewed silence between us surpassed the previous one in its length and weight. Then some force greater than the craving for a drink hit me. I could feel it pressing on me like the compounded gravity inside some inescapable black hole. I willed a breath into my lungs hoping that fresh air might relieve my sense of suffocation from trying to absorb everything Ingrid had just told me, struggling to put it into some sort of order and context. It seemed forever before I managed to exhale. Ingrid finally stood up; upset she stared at me with a blank, uncomprehending

“What have I done to myself?!” Abigale shrieked to herself. She took out a small pouch that held all her items. Abigale pulled out a cracked mirror with some thorns stuck on it. It at first looked like she became a monster, but it was just the hideous cracks on her mirror. “ I hope she never comes back, ever!” Abigale cried sadly and dropped her mirror loudly on the ground as she moved her hands over her eyes. Let’s back up the story……

When he tossed the discarded wipes in the bin, he caught sight of his bruised wrists, and he stared at the fading contusions for a moment before rolling down his sleeves and buttoning the cuffs, effectively hiding his shame. He covered his bloodstained T-shirt behind his buttoned shirt, and feeling slightly less disheveled, he once again stared at himself in the mirror. His ghostly image gazed back; empty, devoid, the haunting apparition a mocking caricature of what a twenty-three-year-old man should look like. But it was not a shock, it was the visage he’d lived with for nearly twelve years, and it was as familiar to him as his own voice. He was what he was, and he accepted

The wind settled down, lowering itself to a whisper as she looked out into the darkness in front of her. As she stared, she saw a thick, black goo emerge from the nothing and start making its way towards her. She scuttled away from the thing as it picked up speed. Then it touched her. It was frighteningly warm as it crawled up her skin. It slithered around her foot and wrapped itself around her ankle. There it sat, unmoving. The slop sent a small tingle up her leg, like a small electric shock. Ever so slightly, she reached out her hand to remove it from her skin. She grabbed it, tugging at it, trying to pry it off. Then, it

“ It was terrifying. There was someone whispering in my ear. The whispers became louder. They soon became nothing but screams of children and women, and no matter how hard I struggled, I … I just couldn't move.”

I remember when those lifeless eyes used to gaze at me; planning their next execution and ignoring every word that dripped like honey from my lips. I was hers in fractions. Reminiscing on the way her digits feverously gripped into my unkempt bicep. She was now mirroring her actions with a replica of me. “I bet he doesn’t know her schedule as well as you do. Or spend as much time memorizing her.” The words beat into my ear like a coach, prepping me for my final match. “Look at the way he’s looking at her, like she’s an animal.” The devil on my shoulder sneered his last encouraging words.

Kylo had returned to his sanctum, his personal quarters. A great many thoughts and emotions were swirling around in the Commander's mind. Far more than he could voice in a single conversation. He was excited beyond words to have finally found a way to destroy the Rebellion, excited to see just how strong Zyra were and could be. But all of that excitement were overshadowed by other emotions, new emotions. Desire. Lust. Attraction. New emotions that had surfaced only hours previous, when he felt the warmth of another being finding it's way to his very core. Just being near his new apprentice sent shivers down his spine. It fueled him, fueled his power. He could feel himself more powerful now than yesterday just because of a few short but

He wondered what she was doing here, he could not even remember the last time he saw her. She shook off her coat, wet from the rain that was plummeting down outside. She walked around the house – looking around with a sense of nostalgia – and he followed, always one step behind in the shadows. While her footsteps creaked on the old wooden stairs, his were as silent as a whisper. Lighting struck, and lit up the halls through the dusty, cracked windows. He knew he had to talk to her soon, or the gods knew she’d take off again before he had the chance. She walked into the small bathroom which was right next to her own. She walked so gracefully she was almost gliding. The mirror was broken and there was a hint of mould growing on the edges but she didn’t mind. He had to do it now, this mirror was the perfect opportunity. “Hello, Lilith” he said, with a croaky, dry voice. But when he saw himself in the mirror for the first time in years, even he was

He opens his eyes to an unfamiliar view—there is a blue-toned light hitting against the shadowed ebony metal siding. He hits his head from the van driving over a bump, "Ow..." he gently rubs the affected area.

She raised her eyes towards the night sky inhaling the crisp, moist air deeply into her lungs. Watching the moon hover high above her, she couldn't help but reflect on the past. Everything she had ever endured, the pain and the loss, would finally be validated as an investment instead of a seemingly endless line of discouraging setbacks. She had been used to gain some advantage or another in the effort of fulfilling her father's goal since she was a child. She accomplished all that was demanded of her, and acquiesced dutifully to even the most impossible and demeaning of obligations.

Anya would never had judge Joseph for who he was when he was not in human form. One day when Anya was working at the bar when a guy came in. Anya never saw him before, at least she thought she never did. This guy was tall, handsome and had a very deep voice. His name was Blake. He was a werewolf but he wasn't like the others. Blake could control what was happening when he was in transformation. He met Anya when he was hunting during a full moon. Anya couldn't remember what happened when she was in wolf form because she had only when a wolf for a few months and hadn't learned how to control it yet. Joseph got extremely jealous when he heard that Blake was in town. Blake was not just in town to see Anya. He was also in town to see his brother Joseph.Joseph hated his brother. Everything Joseph had his brother wanted. Blake was in love with Anya too. After that moment everything went wrong with Joseph and Anya. There life was ruined because of Blake because he was always taking Anya out and He took her out so late she did not have enough time to chain up.. Anya did not feel like Blake was ruining their life. She was having fun with Blake.One day Blake and Anya went hunting together.”Anya looked into Blakes eyes , but she did not relize how powerful he really was.”When she looked into his eyes they both vanished into thin air and were never seen