Stories that are Short

Bane of my Existence

My blood runs cold as the whispery noise of movement in the bushes fills my ears. I try to pinpoint its source, but the sound seems to flow from every direction. I scan the trees surrounding me, trying to perceive where the monster is hidden. 

A sudden rush of wind ruffles my clothing, and I hear a soft "thwump" from behind me. The hair on the back of my neck stands on end as I whirl around to face my greatest enemy. 

It's hard to make out the features of the blob of a creature in front of me. Its transparency makes it seem as if it's shifting from one form to another. Sometimes it's a creature with fangs and glowing red eyes, or a tall figure whose face is hidden deep within its cowl. Sometimes it seems like nothing at all; just a slight glimmer that makes my heart race and despair swell within me.

I turn and run as fast as my legs can carry me. The monstrosity growls---a deep gurgling sound---and gives chase.

The vegetation blurs into mere patches of green in my peripheral vision as I zigzag through the trees. I take the most erratic routes in an attempt to shake the creature from my trail, but it persists. 

Taking a quick glance over my shoulder, I see that the monster is just paces behind me. While my attention is off of the trail ahead, I crash into a fallen tree that obscures my path. I tumble to the ground, mud soaking into my skin. Rolling onto my back, I shiver in fear as the monstrosity closes in.

No. I will not be defeated this easily. Shakily, I stumble to my feet and draw my sword. I'm not going down without a fight.

The creature growls, taking a swipe at me with a clawed hand the size of a lawnmower. I duck, and slash my sword with all my might, ripping deep into what appears to be the creature's palm. 

Howling in rage, it rears up on its haunches and shifts form again. It seems to disappear into thin air, but I know it's there. I can't tell where it is, but I can feel it's presence. It feels like it's surrounding me, engulfing me and draining all thoughts from my mind. 

I see nothing. I hear nothing. I feel nothing. The creature has swallowed me whole, leaving all thoughts and sensations behind. There is nothing left of me. I've been defeated.

Suddenly, I sit up. Perspiration sticks my clothes to my skin, and my breathing comes in short, ragged gasps as I take in my surroundings. 

I'm not in the woods, deep in the belly of some fantastical monster, but rather in my house, in the depths of my soft covers. It was just a dream.

I sigh, and take a sip of cool water from the cup on my nightstand. Shoving the covers away, I climb out of bed and walk blindly across the room to flick on the light switch.

Wearily, I plop down in my desk chair and open my notebook. I reach over and grab a sharpened pencil from the jar sitting on the corner of my desk. 

I squeeze my eyes shut, my nightmare replaying in my mind. Maybe writing will shake me out of the stupor my dream has put me in.

Opening my eyes, I touch the pencil to the paper, waiting for the words to flow out of me like water from a spring. 

I freeze, and a shiver runs through my body. I let out an involuntary gasp as I spot the creature from my nightmare standing in my own room. It's right there in front of me, slowly creeping from my paper into my mind, forcing everything else out. 

I grasp my pencil so tightly that my knuckles turn white. I press it to the paper, trying to fend off that creature called writer's block. It's not just a figment of my imagination, but a real, terrifying monster that crushes the dreams of every writer it can. 

Gritting my teeth in frustration, I lean forward and write a single word: "The." Then another: "Monster." 

No. I furiously erase the two words on the paper and start again: "My blood runs cold as the whispery noise of movement in the bushes fills my ears." 

I combat the writer's block with all the power within me, reliving my nightmare-turned-reality through my writing. Slowly and painfully, I conquer my enemy; writer's block, the bane of my existence.