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The Town (Writing Prompt #3)

|| Aloha! This is a short story that I wrote that was actually was used for an assignment for my English class where I was needed to write a short paragraph, or two, in an Edgar Allen Poe style. If you have never seen his work, I highly suggest you look it up. My favorite is called The Raven. ||

|| Prompt: A story in Edgar Allen Poe style - setting is a town ||

|| Warnings: Very detailed, might be hard to read. ||

|| Word count: 201 ||

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The Town

Fog engrossed the hushed town. The deathly vapor didn't lap the parched, earth floor like the wind was known to do. It's tongue less exterior wouldn't allow it to. Instead, the blanket of mist buckled it's spineless tentacles to sequence throughout all. It wafted, sailed, and floated. Although it seemed ethereal and gossamer-fragile, it packed a punch far above it's weightlessness.

Within the concealed mist, buildings were demolished, rubble from the structures abut to the gravel roads, and the only guidance through the substantial effluvium was a perforated, luminous provenience from a street lamp. Picket fences crumbled to the ground while a benevolent luster flickered in the distance, enveloped in rubble and decay.

Multiple crimson colored spots stained the sooty surface, pieces of dermis reposes about, and a conflagration unfolded out expeditiously. Upon the earth surface were multiple immeasurable creases stretching out through the mute area, vacating corroboration as if there was a brawl.

Besides a raven alighting upon a decimated vehicle, cackling at the withering scene in view, there were no signs of life. Features of the townspeople are replaced with a blur of distant memories. The once lively town soon perished; lives were lost because of a simple earthquake.

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Jim (Writing Prompt #2)

|| Hello, again! Writing Prompt #2 here. I definitely had fun writing this for its a little longer than my last one, but I tried to make it more interesting than the last. I threw some of my own lame, dry humor in there. Enjoy!! :) ||

|| Prompt: A protagonist moves into a rickety house after being accepted into college. They later find out that the house is hunted by a ghost that just wants to be friends. ||

|| Warnings: Mild cussing ||

|| Word Count: 2075 ||

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Jim

"So, this is the house, "chirped the Real Estate Lady as her hand motioned to the house. The house looked run down, dirty, but livable.

      I was kind of forced to live here since I'm trying to save up my money for college. I'll clean it up a bit and it will be cute, perfect, and still livable.

     "Um, okay." I shrugged as I past the lady and shoved my hands into my pockets, gazing at the houses features a little more. There was a window that had broken, but a board covered it up slightly. It seemed that a gutter part was falling off of the roof, there was moss growing on the doorsteps and spider webs covered the houses darkened corners.

      The door squeaked loudly as the Real Estate Agent opened it. She chuckled nervously, smiling awkwardly and gestured me into the house. With every step I took, the floors squeaked like a little mouse. Dust covered the ground and nails poked out of the wooden tiles, urging ones foot to step on it.

     "So," I dragged out, brushing my finger over a small shelf in the kitchen, checking how dusty it was. "How long was this for sale?" I turned on my heel, looking at the Real estate Agent. When I saw her, her posture was poised, but her body looked tense, and her hands were tightly folded together nervously.

     She opened her mouth to speak, but soon quickly closed it. She didn't reply, yet she just hopelessly stared at me.

      I raised my eyebrows in amazement. It is super old; I bet that's why she suggested it to me. It's cheap, but gross. Who would want to live here?  "Long time, eh?"

    The Agent nodded and sighed, motioning to the door. "If you leave, I understand."

   I let out a pathetic laugh. "Actually, I was asking because I don't want to live with ghosts you know?" Lie. Lie, lie, lie, and lie! I was just trying to not make it awkward between us. I was actually thinking of buying it too though. It's the cheapest house ever.

    The woman chuckled nervously, "Oh, you wouldn't believe it if I told you."

      I took one last look at the house, shoving my hands in my pockets and turning my focus on the lady. "I'll take it." I bluntly stated.

     "Mr., I totally understand... The house is a piece of - wait what?" She asked me, her eyes growing wide.

     "I'll... Take... The house."

      The Agent stared at me for only a couple seconds before what I said finally processed in her mind. She shoots up, smiling like an idiot and rummaged through her purse for some papers. Finally she took some out, including a pen and gave it to me. "Sign this right now and it's yours." She flew her hands into the air defensively, while watching me intensively.

     "Oh, um, alright!" I stared at the paper. "So, like... right now?"

The Agent nodded, motioning to the paper. "Go on."

     As I clicked the pen to be ready to write, I gave her a weird look before writing my signature. The Agent didn't hesitate to grab the pen afterwards and nodded to me. "Have a great day! This house may need some work, but you've got it! Good luck! If you need any additional information, my card is on the bar table in the kitchen."

      The Lady quickly scurried out the door and jumped into her car, driving off.

    "What's her problem?" I thought soon shrugging it off and heading into the kitchen to grab her card. I picked it up, observing the small piece of paper.

On the front of the card that laid up facing me was The Agent, pearly whites and all. She wore some diamond earrings that stood out and a salmon pink floral shirt. She looked totally different in her picture than she did in real life. It probably was photo-shopped.

In an instant, a faint clicking sound caught my attention. My head snapped up to look around. Nothing.

"Hello?" I called, placing the paper back down on the bar counter before making my way into the living room. "Hello?" I called out again, my voice a little shakier this time. The clicking stopped.

You know in the horror movies where the protagonist calls out into the depths of the house after a strange, supernatural noise is heard? I always gave the movie directors shit for doing something like that because that's "not what people in real life would do" and, of course, directors would make the character relatable by making them run away, but it's for dramatic effect, right? As well as the movie would end then and there. However, I never knew how relatable the protagonist really was until I had done what they had done - call out to the noise.

It usually ends up either the monster is there and kills them, or it ends up as nothing, but when they turn around, they /die./ In any case, after the ticking stopped, I realized how dumb I was and ran out to my car.

     Later that night as I was sleeping on the ground because I needed to go to Sleep Train to get an actual mattress. If I had a dime for every time my elbow grazed the tops of the nails sticking out from the floor, I'd have a dime. Never again did I move from my spot after I scratched myself. It hurt, but luckily I didn't bleed /too/ much. 

Suddenly I heard some footsteps awake me. Not really acknowledging it, I moaned tiredly and looked around.

    I don't want to be cliché when I say this, but I did the most stupid thing when I heard unknown footsteps in my house. "Hello?" I croaked out, rubbing my eyes and getting up. "Anyone here?"

Wow, you'd think after the first time I called down to a creepy noise, I'd stop.

   Chills ran down my spine and goosebumps ran up my arms. I could feel my neck hairs standing on end. With every step I took, I heard a loud creak. I couldn't help, but wince in fear as I heard the footsteps also come closer.

   When I sneaked into the hallway, the only source of light was from the moon coming through an open window. I felt butterflies in my belly as I turned my head everywhere to figure out where the sound was coming from.

   "Come out from where you are or I will-"I was cut off when I heard a loud 'BOO!'

    I screamed bloody murder and tripped over my own feet. In a matter of seconds I noticed a shadowy figure towering over me.

    "How dare you live in my home? Leave now and never come back!" The voice was deep and loud, making my ears ring.

     I raised my hands above my head and started to cry. "I'm sorry! Don't kill me!"

       The dark figure didn't reply, the ringing in my ears stopped and it seemed like everything around me was silent. As I turned my head, I saw the figure become lighter and a little foggy looking. Not only that, but I noticed some feet and dress pants.

     The figure let out a booming laugh, making me wince.

     I stared at the flooding figure as it continued to laugh at me. "Oh-Oh my gosh! Did-did you see your face?! It was priceless!"

      My eyes were wide as I stared at the figure. It was a man with a fancy hat, a suit, a big smile and ghostly tears falling from his eyes.

      The ghost wiped away his tears, smiling from cheek to cheek.  "Man, not only did the scream make it funny, but it's your outfit! Who-"The ghost chuckled again. "Who wears that anyway?"

      I gazed down at my outfit. I wore a casual robe with a white shirt, sweat pants, and some sleepers. I scoffed down at my outfit, looking back up at the ghost. I gestured to his goofy outfit. "Look who's talking! You're the one wearing a suit at night. Or should I say practically to bed."

    The ghost rolled his eyes, gesturing to his clothes.  "Bro, I can't change my outfit. I'm a ghost."

    I grunt angrily, as I get up. Even though my heart is still pumping out of my chest, I was slightly stunned I was talking to a ghost. "Well, with that outfit you can't even really scare anyone."

    The ghost snorted, "Please, I scared you. You must get scared of the stupidest events. I swear-"

    "Shut up!" I shot at him, giving him the dirtiest glare I could give.

    The ghost sighed, rolling his eyes. "Listen, I just wanted to make a funny or memorable moment for us. But hey!" The guy shot his hands up defensively, looking down at his feet. "Believe it or not I don't want to kill you."

    "Really," I crossed my arms over my chest and snorted? "I thought ghost would want to kill and all that jazz... Yeah, know, like the horror movies?"

   The ghost guy gave me a puzzled glance, "Yeah sure.. I don't know what a movie is, but some do that, but I actually want to have someone to talk too. Not to kill. Honestly, if we can just be bros and hang out, I'd really like that."

I would've pressed on about how he didn't know what a movie is, but considering his outfit, I figured he was from the 1800s - the time way before "movies" was a word. So I brushed the idea off, moving on to more... important matters.

    I burrowed my eyebrows. "What? A ghost... A ghost... Living with me."

   The man nodded, "Yup. If you want I can help you clean up the house a little."

"That doesn't make any sense! Were you the creepy noise that I heard earlier today?" I asked, recalling to the clicking noise heard from somewhere in the house.

The man's brows knitted together in confusion before his eyes began to widen in realization. "Ah, yes, actually. I tried opening the door, but I still haven't gotten down the 'making things move' agenda so making a clicking sound is all I got at the time."

"Were you /trying/ to scare me?"

"Uh, yeah, it didn't work so I went with plan B. Who knew that a simple 'boo' would make you so upset?"

If the man wanted a "friend", why was he trying to scare him? Ah, yes, the "memorable moment" answer, which still didn't convince me. Also, what was up with the words he was using? It seemed so... now time rather than the 1800s where saying "bro" wasn't even a word back then.

    I stared at him for a bit, trying to process what was happening. As I tried, I closed my eyes and shook my head. "No, no, no. This is a dream, I must be dreaming. Ghosts aren't real and I know it! Excuse me while I try to go to bed." I sighed, walking back to the bedroom. As I was about to close my bedroom door, the ghost guy yells to me.

  "Want me to pinch yo-"

   "No!" I shouted at him, getting into the bed on the floor, soon attempting to sleep.

    I swear.. I would've been a sleep right when my head hit my pillow, but I kept hearing the same annoying voice from the ghost outside.

   "My name's Jim, by the way," The ghost man shouted at me after he told me a long story about his deceased pet goldfish.

   I growled angrily as I pulled the blanket over my head.

  "What's your name?" He asked me, pausing for only a couple seconds for me to respond. "Not going to answer? Okay, I'll call you Roomie. No, I'll call you Grumps. Yeah, Grumps. Okay, night Grumps!"

  That was the last I heard from him. Until 7:00 AM came. I barely got any sleep.  After I finally fell asleep an annoying voice woke me up. "Hello, Grumpy!" He shouted.

"I thought you couldn't open doors? How are you in here?" I moaned, cuddling up into my blankets.

"I don't /have/ to open doors, man. I'm a ghost."

   "Jim..." I croaked out, turning away from him. "Go pester someone else, please!"

  "I can't," Jim stated bluntly. "If I could I would be already terrorizing the dog next door. Man, they need to keep that sucker quiet. So, ready to have some fun roomie?"

  "No."

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Weekdays (Writing Prompt #1)

|| Hello! This is actually one of my very first short stories ever made, and I wanted to post this so I could see how much I improved over time! You don’t have to read it, if anything, it’s kind of cringy but I’m going to post recent writings and I want your opinion on it! Thank you!||

||Prompt: If the week days/weekends were people too!||

||Warnings: None||

||Word count: 659||

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If the weekdays/weekends were people;

      Monday woke up with the same permanent scowl on his face, got out of bed, ate breakfast and continued with his morning routine. Monday wasn't the happiest weekday like Friday, but he was the start of the week -the most important day - and he had to do his job. As he walked into his bathroom to brush his teeth, he stared into the mirror. He had a salt and pepper beard that needed to be trimmed, blue, droopy eyes, and the same permanent scowl he had on his face like always. He wanted to shave his scruffy beard, but he was way too lazy and didn't really care what he looked like.

      For Monday, last night was a normal night for him. Monday had a day with Sunday, known for her cries of agony because she was the least important day. Monday would always have to comfort her since Saturday was to busy partying like a rock star. For Monday, one hour with Sunday tired him out. So he didn't care about shaving, it was just going to grow back when he hung out with Sunday again.

      After he had brushed his teeth, he walked downstairs to grab his coffee to start his day on the computer. As Monday plopped down on the swirly chair, he grunted tiredly. Soon, his old, boney fingers typed away on the computer.

      Monday started off by waking the people up with the alarm they had. If the people didn't wake up, he made sure they slept in and were late for school or work. In a matter of minutes, Monday saw Tuesday jump into the seat next to him. As always Monday groaned as Tuesday chirped a loud, "Hello" to him.

      "Guess what day it is?" Tuesday asked in his normal excited voice, looking at Monday with an obvious sparkle in his eye. The tired man had heard this joke every time it was their day together.

      "I don't know... What day is it?" Monday replied bluntly, staring at his computer, trying to make sure at least one person had their coffee.

      "I don't know, depends where you are!" Tuesday let a snort out as he leaned back into his own swirly chair. With the same smile on his face as always, he clicked away at the computer.

      Monday gave the cheerful Tuesday an obvious sarcastic laugh. "Very funny," He rolled his eyes in annoyance and clicked away on his own computer.

      It seemed like Tuesday always like to talk for no reason what so ever. Tuesday knew everything about Monday and Monday didn't care about Tuesday's life. They had the same routine. Wake up, eat, go to work, and then sleep. Like always, it seemed like Tuesday is just going to ask the same question he usually does.

      "So," Tuesday smiled from ear to ear, starting the same conversation he had last time Monday and him were together. "What place are you working on today?"

      Monday didn't answer. "Come on! Tell me," Tuesday whined.

      "America," Monday scoffed, narrowing his eyes at the computer because a random person was being rude to his favorite human.

      "I'm working on Asia. Did you know that-" Tuesday was cut off by Monday rudely, "I don't care. I already know."

      "Oh okay!" Tuesday shrugged happily, looking back at his computer. Soon as Monday and Tuesdays shifts were over, Monday didn't hesitate to turn off his computer.

      "Where you going? Are you over?" Tuesday asked confusedly, narrowing his brown eyes at him. Monday nodded, scratching his butt which was itching for hours and walked upstairs.

      "Remember, you have America tomorrow," Monday called out, "Don't be late. Oh, and remember-"

      Tuesday sighed and quoted with Monday, "Be careful of Wednesday and be nice. She's very sensitive."

      Monday clicked his tongue and winked, "You got it,"

      Tuesday nodded, getting up and turning off his computer for today. "I know, I know. Good night, Monday!"

      Monday heard him, but didn't answer.