Let me tell you a story. This story is about a small child. The child like ones in most stories was scared of lots of things. Being alone, the dark, monsters... the normal things for a child to fear. However, they knew these things could only affect them at night because of some kind of kid imagination law. But as they got older, the fact became clearer that their fears could follow them whenever they wanted. So they did... the monsters would taunt the child with chants about the past, and memories they wished to forget. Then they were left by their friends, because of their constant nonsense about stories and sadness, confined to their loneliness... Then the darkness settled in... a long, depressing time of darkness... and the child cried, like most would. "The world's too big! " They cried, " I'm going to die one day! " they sobbed, " I DON'T WANT THEM TO LEAVE ME!!! " they screamed... and they sat... in that lonely dark room, with only the train and it's whistle to keep them company and keep the monsters at bay. They counted the whistles between sobs. " don't leave train... don't leave, please... " but the train did not hear the small child's voice, and it kept going, moving on with its life like any normal train would with a track. And the child watched as the monsters taunted them again. They taunted them for their feelings, or their constant needs, poking and shoving the small one. The monsters would scream at the child, talking about how pathetic they were. And the child smiled and laughed at the voices while crying. " You're right.... I am all of those things... I am a punching bag, I am disposable. " And the child broke. They broke like a mirror into a thousand pieces. They still went to school and counted the houses They still tied their shoes while humming, and they still listened to others deeply when they spoke. But there was something else there, a subtle sadness inside of them when they walked, a pinch of fear in their movements, and a cold numb expression in their eyes. People pondered whether or not the child was safe to be around, but the child did not care... they stopped bothering to. They stopped bothering to take care of themselves... in fact, they did the opposite. They stopped even bothering to get out of bed. And the monsters got worse, they would storm the room of which the child slept in and plan out schemes. Schemes to hurt the child more, or to do worse... and the child listened... it sat there and listened to their cruel words again. And it seemed to go on forever until a small sound was heard in the distance.... a subtle whistle.... and.... voices? But not the normal taunting voices... no... these were different. The voices carried warm glowing lanterns. And they reached out for the child. Their friends... the train and their friends... and the child ran to them... and there was peace to their restless mind, once more...
( There is no part one yet. It hasn't been written yet. )
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The Author's Stories
Short StoryThis is a collection of short stories I've written that I decided I wanted to share. Most of these are angst. They aren't connected, I wrote almost all of them individually except the Stage stories.
