Tap. Tap. Tap. Rain fogged up the window. A soft crackle sounded from the fireplace. It was supposed to be a cold, comfortable night. But I couldn’t help the chill that ran down my spine. My day was spent with powdery mountains and snowboarding and hot chocolate. It was supposed to be a day for me to forget. Tap. Tap. Tap. I hadn’t thought about her all day, I made sure there was no room for me to. Surely time away from that place would dissolve her from my mind and prove that this was all in my head. But the only thing that was dissolved was my sanity. Tap. Tap. Tap. I stayed still, foolishly hoping that she wouldn’t…

Bordering my property line, a manufactured home is left to be devoured by mother nature, abandoned. I have owned my property for multiple years, and, throughout that time, an owner has never been present, nor had I seen anything suspicious — until recently. On August 20th of this year, police were dispatched to the home with an arrest warrant. The 20th of August was a Saturday, so being woken up around 7am to such a commotion was an unpleasant surprise. This was until, however, I realized it could finally give me the opportunity to know some history of the abandoned home. Unfortunately, the police were, understandably, unable to speak during the open investigation. They did, however, let me know that…

The ball streaked towards little Jimmy Hanson, covering the distance uncomfortably fast. The scrawny boy two sizes too small with the aviator glasses, cringed out of the way. It landed directly where he had been standing, and like that the game ended. “Damnit Jimmy, you’re supposed to catch the ball not hide from it!” a fat kid with a glove on one hand cried. A skinny boy with glasses turned from the pitcher’s mound to look at Jimmy disdain clearly visible on his face, “This is the third run you’ve allowed, and you wonder why we never let you play with us. You’re dog shit! Actually, I apologize to all loads of shit out there, you’re even more useless. I’d…

19:00 Evening at the McManus estate – a postmodern building with large glass windows. The sun is setting and your mother and father are arguing silently in the kitchen. Their mouths open and close, but there is no sound. None but the wind. The couple bicker as they orbit around a fairly nice-looking joint kitchen and garden space. They’re cleaning it up, making it look better, squabbling over what goes where and when. Your mother was always told to marry someone who complimented her extremes, but in some respects, her and her husband’s sensibilities are frustratingly similar. Infectious OCD is one of them. Still, they know their limits with arguments. She shouts a little too loud, or knocks something over,…

Chapter 1: Lost in the Storm The night was cold, and the rain fell relentlessly, pelting the cobblestone streets of the small town. Shadows played in the corners of the empty alleys, dancing to the symphony of the storm. As the clock struck midnight, a sense of unease enveloped the town, amplified by the thick fog that crept through the narrow passages. John stumbled through the dark, drenched streets. The rain obscured his vision, and the cold wind seeped into his bones. He couldn’t remember how he got there, and a growing sense of dread gnawed at him. The town seemed foreign, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was watching him from the shadows. As the thunder roared…

Never get a hole in one at a mini-golf course. Trust me, the risk is not worth the fleeting sense of accomplishment. Let’s be real. You probably got one on accident, anyway, so any pride you’d feel is underserved. At Putt Head’s Mini-Golf and Arcade, getting a hole in one, on the 18th hole, earned you a free game. It was a gimmick that everyone tried for. Even if your family was completely sick of the looping kiddie music playing over the rusted speakers and everyone was in-fighting by the end… they still tried for the hole in one. Free is free. When I was a kid, I got a hole in one at the local mini-golf course. I felt…

The Roamer Family Plantation L-3 About 10 miles off the shores of Galveston, Texas, lies Grandiosia Isle: 300,000 acres of swamp, mountain, jungle, and thick pine forest. It has endured a lot—a blizzard during the early 1200s, hurricanes, earthquakes, tsunamis, and in 1875 a forest fire scorched the entire island, rendering it uninhabitable for some time. As a result, the island was nearly devoid of forest life, except for creatures capable of flight, until 1994 when deer and such were reintroduced onto the island. What I’m going to share with you is a paraphrased compilation of journals discovered in chimneys, old basements, and beyond the island as well. I’ve woven together various segments and made adjustments for clarity and flow.…

The walk-in closet was supposed to be her sanctuary, but now it felt like a prison. She’d gone in to grab a sweater, but as she reached for the door, it wouldn’t budge. The handle refused to turn, as if someone had locked it from the other side. She panicked, rattling the door with all her might, but it wouldn’t open. Her phone was in the living room, and she couldn’t hear if anyone was calling her. She was trapped, alone in the dark. Hours passed. Her throat was raw from screaming and she was cold, trembling from fear and the chill of the closet. She tried to take deep breaths, and tried to calm herself, but nothing worked. Her…

Eight years ago, during the week before Halloween, some friends and I decided to tell spooky stories around the campfire. We had always wanted to make a fire outside and hang out at night, but we were too young to go by ourselves, especially after midnight. That year things were different. ‘We were no longer children,’ we thought, so we somehow convinced our parents to let us stay out late (we didn’t tell them about the fire, obviously). Once we all gathered in front of my house, we only had to think of a good place to hang out, so that our parents wouldn’t find out about the fire. We ended up making the fire near a small dirt road…

It was rather late at night and I was returning home from a party. As exhausted as I was, I somehow stumbled to my car navigating my way through a dark route. Once there I popped my phone into the charger and set the map for home. I would say it was around one to two AM at this time, and I was ready to pass out, but I trekked on into the night. Listening as Siri told me, I got onto the highway that normally takes me home and prepared myself for the half hour voyage. It was odd, as I merged onto the expressway there was an absence of cars, and this wasn’t some abeyance of traffic either,…