You are walking in the woods with your best friend at night. Then from about thirty yards away you hear a woman scream followed by a gunshot and then dead silence. What do you do? Run in fear, or face your fear.
F.E.A.R. – False Evidence Appearing Real.
Alex Scheivert
Creepy, abandoned building. Forgotten adventures, memories.
Traveling beyond. Surprises ahead. Old times.
Heart racing. Eyes boggled. Mind bewildered.
Kerry Nguyen
When the path of united souls,
points towards my heart.
A resonance larger than life,
Rings through my darkened way.
I don’t watch the unnecessary,
I let myself intertwine with destiny.
My destination remains the same,
as I run through the unbearable night.
When the path of united souls,
points towards my heart.
A resonance larger than life,
Rings through my darkened way.
Why deny that fate has cursed me,
I remain petrified.
Pursued by the very demons that gave me purpose,
I thought I’d get used to them.
There are deceivers and the deceived,
Playing an eternal game of tag.
I run only to avoid being next,
I want to see the end of this fragile trance.
The glow I chase too far,
continues into a heavy fog.
If I succeed in losing myself,
the hand I grab will take advantage.
I can hope for everything,
because tomorrow is just an illusion.
Harder than yesterday,
I’ll work to strengthen my will.
When the path of united souls
points towards my heart
A resonance larger than life
Rings through my darkened way
Why deny that fate has cursed me,
I remain petrified.
Pursued by the very demons that gave me purpose,
I still haven’t grown used to them
And maybe I never will.
— Christopher Vanatta
Please, tell me, what meaning do I hold,
having abandoned the purpose I once served?
I’m broken, neglected by the world you oh, so adore,
Yet you laugh, blind to my obvious terror.
Being as twisted as I am, I hold my breath,
Now I’m hidden, and nothing can reveal me. Not even the truth.
I’m fragile, but indestructible,
and psychotic, yet unable to loose my sanity.
In this dull, stubborn world, I gradually become transparent, unable to be seen.
So, don’t waste your time looking for me, advert your eyes.
I just don’t want to hurt you, in a world out of someone’s imagination.
Be content with just my memory; as vivid as I was.
Forever spreading, solitude warps my image.
Memories of times we laughed together come to mind,
And I can’t move, I cannot move!
Protect your innocence!
Life is fun, she had said,
A smile kissing her lips with innocence
Blind to the reality of greater war
Giggles and energy frees from her
Life is scary, she had said,
Millions of new faces crowded around
Expectations had to be met, or else
But Daddy was always there for her
Life is stupid, she had said,
Rumors spread like flu, just as crippling
Nights were spent up, days were spent drearily
Maybe, just maybe, rest would lay ahead
Life is unjust, she had said,
Tears fell, darkness dressed her for the dreadful night
Sickly faces crowded, peering at the still man ahead
With evil on the spree, blood boiled within her
Life is joyous, she had said,
Hats thrown; Freedom peeked around the corner
Celebration commenced; He sat on the mantel
This time was for joy, not sorrow
Two six year old twins with big blue eyes and long, wavy blondish-brown hair sit up in their beds. One is a boy while the other is a girl. They slept in an average-sized room that they shared.
Outside, the moon and the stars shined brightly down on the small world of Twilight Town. It was the twins’ bedtime but they were defiant. They would not go to bed until their mother told them a story. Their mother, a petite woman in her twenties that had the same blue eyes and long curly blondish-brown hair as her adorable children, sat in between their beds. She was wearing a turquoise nightgown that came down just below her knees. Her children stare at her with large pleading eyes and pouting lips.
“Please, mom! Please tell us the story again!” the twins begged. Their mother chuckles at their childish behavior. She puts one finger up to her lips.
“Sh. Alright, alright. Calm down. You don’t want to wake your father now,” she hushes them. The twins throw their hands up in the air in victory.
“Yay!” they exclaim. Their mother chuckles again. The twins settle back down into their beds as their mother clears her throat.
“Alright. Now where do we start off at?” she ponders while lightly tapping the bottom of her chin with her pointer finger. She then puts her finger up in the air like she had an idea.
“Ah! I remember now! A long, long time ago there was a gargantuan heart-shaped moon known as Kingdom Hearts. People had thought Kingdom Hearts was the heart of all worlds. Many people thought that it contained light. Others thought it contained darkness. These two sides quarreled over what was inside the all mighty Kingdom Hearts. The two sides found out about the X-blade (A/N: Pronounced the“Key or Kyeblade.” It is easily confused with a regular Keyblade.) the key to unlocking the door to Kingdom Hearts, and how to forge it. The two sides created weapons called “Keyblades” which were mere shams of the real X-blade.
“They gathered on a world where the ground was barren and cracked and dark clouds loomed over the world like a thick blanket. This was the world where Keyblade bearers would be tested to see who is worthy of being the chosen wielder of the X-blade. Today, this desolate world was given the title of the Keyblade Graveyard. It was called this because of the powerless, rusted keys that littered the place. If they could talk they’d probably be crying out to their fallen masters and mourning their deaths.
what if
death was brought new life
from under the depths
of the ground’s despair?
would the faces of
those torn and puzzled souls
carry on their passion
among the flesh and blood?
what if
every wounding word
was tackled down with a
refreshing compliment?
would the menacing beast
whom roamed the serpentine paths
finally be tamed
into a small kitten?
what if
the split from the quake
that had rumbled on and on
had stopped to piece together?
would it last?
would the tears drown both
down into a river
of forgive and forget?
Past memories
And aching thoughts
Stymie those who just
Think and hope
letting go of those
wishful dreams
is even harder than
living among the truth.
— MacKenzie Lewis
I groaned and bent over as my emotions fought inside. As they tore out of my chest, I screamed in agony. Three creatures whipped around me, screeching, howling and whispering their names.
A fiery phoenix screeched the loudest, proclaiming, “I am passion, anger, desires! I whip the others with my flaming tongue!”
A demonized shadow creature hissed at me, “I am fear, darkness and hostility, you cannot escape from my clutches.” I flinched away, not wanting to be near the disgusting thing.
A watery fish began to suffocate me, blubbing, “I am sadness, depression, anxiety…” I shoved it away, gasping for breath.
Finally, after all hope seemed to vanish, after I had fallen to my knees, I felt a gentle warm hand rest on my shoulder. I slowly looked up, blinking away tears.
A warm gentle glow emitted from a human like figure, and it spoke in soft voice. “I am hope, love, compassion. Don’t fear, I am stronger than the others. I will always be there for you, in multiple shapes, sizes and forms. Look around, there will always be hope, love and compassion.” I smiled and nodded, as the creatures that had caused me distress, now become insignificant, entered back in. The golden figure was the last to enter, sealing my chest and warming my heart.
I no longer felt the other three creatures, only hope warmed my heart.
— Abby Burrows
I have an obsession with holding on to memories
and an oddly comfortable feeling for being alone.
Scared to let anyone into my life,
but also scared for the ones that are here to leave.
I think way too much, more than I should,
but maybe that’s a good thing.
— Caitlin Renshaw
People terrified
the sky growing
dark quickly
like moving
MOUNTAINS
— Gregory Ventura
Lost in dreams with the demons.
In fake worlds with fake smiles.
Everyone has an angel from heaven.
— Brianna Oberdorf
She waited next to her phone
But it didn’t ring
She lied on her couch with her phone on her stomach
But it didn’t ring
She was dying to hear her favorite song blair from the speakers
But it didn’t ring
She paced back in forth in her dimly lit living room
But it didn’t ring
She hugged herself so tightly she could barely breathe
But it didn’t ring
She bit her nails with anticipation
But it didn’t ring
She sat with her knees to her chest rocking back and forth
But it didn’t ring
She drove her nails through her hair
But it didn’t ring
She bit her lip so hard that it drew blood
But it didn’t ring
The sun rose and she was on her knees tears streaking her face
But it never rang
— Audrey Bublitz
When my hand touches gross gum
that is squished under the desk.
The chills go down my back.
The feeling I get is unfathomable.
No matter how hard I try,
the fear I live with everyday,
is hard for me to understand.
My Obsession-Compulsive disorder is crazy.
I elaborate details in my head.
Over the years, I’ve been sick.
Avoiding every germ is my specialty.
Human or animal saliva is disgusting.
Thinking about it makes me cringe.
Anything that is contaminated with saliva
I try hard to avoid it.
—Allie Stoltzfus
A little kid
The dark
Monsters under the bed
Scary noises outside the bedroom window
Creatures in the closet
A teenager
High school
Beginning to drive
Who you will sit with at lunch
Losing your supposed friends
What kind of person you will be categorised as
Not graduating on time
Grades
Love life
An adult
Job lose
Financial problems
Death
Retirement homes
Illnesses
Failure throughout life
Loss of family members
“Why am I so horrible at faces…” a young man trailed off as he scrapped the edge of a small curved blade against a chunk of clay.
He stood upon a small step stool, a curved scalpel in hand, before what was to be a life sized clay statue of a medieval style knight. His bare hands were stained a tan brown from the mound of clay. Just below his short cropped chestnut hair, a streak of the same brown trailed from one brow to the other.
His comfortable black dress pants had splotches of the earth across the knees and ankles, his thighs strangely clear. Tucked underneath his tight belt was a soft, royal blue dress shirt. It’s beautiful color was stained with brown. He wore no shoes, his curved toenails evenly cut.
With a soft sigh, he let his hand drop to his side; away from the disfigured face of the statue he was creating. Continue reading
I’m afraid to fall in love
Because whatever falls, gets broken.
I’m afraid to trust again
Because trust can always turn into lies.
My time is here
The brightness is clear
It brings a tear
But I have no fear
No worries my dear
I’ll always be here
I didn’t want to go: I wanted to stay at home.I had never flown before, and the whole idea of it was scary.
“If we were meant to fly God would have given us wings,and since he didn’t we should stay home , or drive.” I exclaimed more than once, but my parents would always answer me the same way,
“ You need to see your Aunt once before she dies, and driving from Detroit, Michigan to Pt. Loma, California is out of the question.”
They are regretting that decision right now. I should probably tell you about myself, my name is Drake, and I now live in Omaha, Nebraska. I have been through alot, and I will never be the same.
You know, Federal Prison isn’t as bad as people say it is. Three hot meals a day, and a warm bed. They even gave me a private, high security cell so that “Patriotic” prisoners can’t hurt me.My name is Julius Papertown, and I’m in prison because I got revenge on a country that doesn’t care. A country that sent my wife undercover on a mission she was certain not to make it back from. The worst part is that I didn’t even get a folded flag. Because she was a secret agent not a soldier, she wasn’t eligible for a folded flag. That is why I did what I did, or what I was supposed to do but instead of hijacking a plane, I forgot to put my gun away, getting us into a jam.
I was behind my parents who were in line for the metal detector. I was feeling a little nervous about my first time flying. I looked at the man behind me, and he too looked a little nervous. I asked him “Is this your first time flying?”
“You could say that,” he answered in a nervous tone. I would have asked him what he meant, but I was holding up the line, so I turned around , took a deep breath, and went through the metal detector. I then put my shoes on, grabbed my suitcase, and ran to catch up with my parents who were on their way to the terminal.
Phase one was in motion, get through security. While I was waiting in line, the boy in front of me turned around and asked
“Is this your first time flying?”
“You could say that,” I answered regretting the words as they came out.
Luckily before he could ask me what I meant he was at the metal detector, so he left me alone.When he went through, I took my shoes off and went through.When the metal detector went off, I cursed. I had forgotten to take the M-9 out of my waistband.As the guard came close I made a split second decision, and shot the gaurd.I was working with five other men who were in the other lines. When they saw what happened they quickly eliminated the rest of the guards. Plan B Milton shouted to us. I instantly pulled the .44 Magnum, Spas-12, and M-16 out of my bag. I put the M-16, and Spas-12 on my back. With handguns at the ready, I fired three shots into the air, and yelled “Everybody on the ground now. Don’t freak out and you won’t get hurt. I then put my shoes on and went to the leader, Milton, to apologize. When I reached him, he grabbed me by the collar, pulled me in close, and whispered,”Stupid mistake, I knew you weren’t ready.” And with that he pushed me away.
I was on my way to the terminal with my parents, when I heard a gunshot, then another and another. I was on the ground in an instant pulling my parents down with me.I saw the man I was talking to pull out three guns. I couldn’t tell what they were, we were not close enough, but that was as close as I was willing to get. I looked at my mom, rolled up in a ball, balling her eyes out. She had her bag gripped so tight her fingernails went straight through. I couldn’t look any more, I didn’t want to cry. I turned to my dad, and to my surprise he was on the phone. “Hang up, Hang up,” I whispered as loud as I dare, but it was too late.
Plan B phase two, collect wallets and cellphones. This was not my job, I was to walk around and intimidate.I put my hand guns back into my waistband, and took out the Spas-12. This shotgun looked scary. It was a combat shotgun. Don’t ask me where I got it, because I will never tell.I walked around looking at the people laying on the ground, kicking those who were brave enough to meet my gaze. Then I heard a man whispering, when I looked over in his direction, it was that boys father, the one I was talking to in line. He was on the phone, so I did what Milton taught us, I ran over and kicked him in the ribs as hard as I could. He dropped the phone as he yelped in pain, he sounded like a puppy that got kicked too hard, when he dropped it I stomped on it, hard. It broke under my foot. I then hit him over the head with the butt of my shotgun, knocking him out. I then grabbed him by his arm and pulled him to a supply closet, I then did the same to the boy and the women.
A man came over and kicked my dad in the ribs. I was so close I could hear them break. When he kicked my dad he dropped the phone, and when he did, the man stomped on it, breaking it under his heavy foot. He then hit my dad over the head with the butt of his rifle, knocking him out. After dragging my dad away he did the same to me. When I came to. I was in a closet with my dad and mom. My dad was hunched over with blood pouring out of his head. I knew he was dead. My mom was yelling at the man. I couldn’t hear why though. My ear was seriously bleeding where he had hit me. When he saw I was awake, he turned his attention to me. “What’s your name?” He asked maniacally. :”Drake,” I stammered quitely. “Do you know who your dad was talking to?” He asked me. I was looking at his hunched body. Limp and lifeless. He saw my gaze, and said motioned to my dad with his head, “He hit me, so I blew his brains out, now answer the question.” “U… U… I don’t know.” I stammered again, “Really. maybe this will help you remember.” He yelled very angrily, as he pointed the gun at my mother , and pulled the trigger.
“I don’t know, I don’t know!” I screamed in between sobs, “Please, Please don’t kill me!” I cried. “I’m sorry but you will have to die.” He said as he put the gun to my head. BANG! I was still alive. BANG, BANG, BANG. The shots came from outside. The man opened the door and was instantly tackled by two SWAT members. The other four men lay in bloody heaps on the floor. “ You’re gonna be alright,” the Swat man said,”Who are they?” He asked. “My… My parents,” I stammered. The SWAT man gave me a phone to call a family member. I took the phone and dialed a number. “Hello?” My uncle said through the phone. “Uncle Fester,” I answered, “Our flight has been canceled, can you pick me up?”
In this world of greed and lies there are men who are willing to do all and everything without remorse to make their mark on this world. They’ve done both horrible and amazing things, things like genocide and murder to inventing the plane. We ignore the cruel, believing that as time goes on they will fade away. Sadly, they never do. The moment one leaves this world another takes their place, often they are even worse than the last.
As a people we have a fear that has been passed down from genetics. The fear itself is simple and denied by all. We all fear being judged. We want to be seen as fearless and unstoppable. That we’ll always stand up against evil and cruelty. Yet, the moment danger rears its ugly head we run. So few actually follow their word and truly stand up and fight back. These are the people that everyone else seems to want to claim that they are, but they all lie. The only ones who speak the truth are the ones who say nothing at all; they are the ones willing to die.
Even among the silent ones exist a class called masked. They hide everything, every emotion, thought, feeling, behind their iron masks. Be wary of them, for even if you believe you know them, they can easily turn around and stab you in the back. However, if you gain one of them as a friend they will not hesitate, they will not falter, and they will not fail to die for you. These “masked” ones more often than not vent their feelings, and they slowly consume themselves from the inside. Eventually they fall into depression and often, suicide. However, they do not call it suicide. They call it “fair trade”. Their form of a fair trade is purposely giving their life in what they believe is worth it. Often they are the strangers that run into a burning building to save a trapped child, only to die after saving them. They are viewed as heroes by the people who do not know and understand them. In truth, they are fools.
However, for every ten masked there exists one who fought through their depression and gained something new. A beautiful and blissful thing called “Insanity”. They often lose themselves to it, but for those that persevere through it they only gain in strength. In this story we follow one of these precious few. Many do not know of him, and those that do keep their distance. He is an unstable creature with two minds; one of kindness, and one of a demon. He hears the whispers of the void call to him to relinquish his hold of his body and give unto it his demon. He fights back, and tries to be normal, but sadly for one such as him that is impossible. This is his story.
I am a pirate and I am fearless of the world
I have conquered dragons and fought windmills I mistook for giants
I know how to catch the wind in my fingertips and teach it tricks
I know the melody line of the rain
I have conquered dragons and fought windmills I mistook for giants
I have shed a tear, I have never wiped away a tear
I know the melody line of the rain
I dream in stars and pray in seasons
I have shed a tear, I have never wiped away a tear
When clouds gather, I tell them to leave me alone
I dream in stars and pray in seasons
I know how to play love, I know how to trick love
I have no memories, only glimpses of my past I dare not forget
I know the melody line of the rain
I don’t believe in luck, I believe in kindness
I am a pirate and I am fearless of the world
–Kirsten Gibson
Fear is so powerful, it can hit you from any direction and knock the wind out of you.
When your breath is gone, all rationality is gone with it.
Fear leaves you gasping for air afraid to make a sound.
Your own heartbeat turns into footsteps, or blood pumping through a killers veins.
Any object becomes scary, deadly even.
Suddenly a room is much darker than it previously seemed.
Any sound threatening to kill you.
Your imagination is torturing you.
–Healey Miller
from Nate: