Other stories for this prompt

Annabelle Clarisse, was born blind but her disability never stopped her from visualising the world with her other senses. She could smell how spring was just around the corners as the flowers bloomed and how she could hear the chips of little hatchlings be born. Annabelle was never sad about how she was but instead she turned her negativity into something greater by become an artist. Her very first art piece was published in France,1943 where the she showed her audience how she saw the world with her own imagination. Her sense of touch helped her visualise he paintings by...

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I could feel their glares. They loved to do this. I kept tripping over branches and I could feel the cuts on my arms.

They would save me eventually and they would take me home and I would tell mother what they had done. She would tell them to go home and tell brother to go to his room, there would be no dinner for him and I would get sad because I felt trapped. I felt wronged and needed my mother's comfort, but I knew that my tattle-taling would only result in spite from them the next time we...

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"It was just like all the others.

"Fear. Defense. Anonymity.

"Just enough of the subject's face had been blurred so we couldn't discern their identity. Another one of the Foundation's pieces of work, no doubt.

"It was just too much. Too many people had turned in photos like this. The same damn camera, and the same damn style. Always in the middle of nowhere, with one person fearing for their life, as if the camera itself were the entity attacking.

"There were other varying problems with this one, that the other pictures did not display. This subject's head was turned...

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There is no point to seeing the forest, all you can ever see are the trees. And the trees are not the forest. You'll never comprehend the true size of the forest, for it is the world. You'll never understand that the forest is everything, and everything is the forest. You are the forest too.

So do as our people have always done. Wander, wander through the dappled sunlight. Wander, wander through the glades and covers and hidden places. Wander, wander without direction, because there is no direction. There is only forest.

Find the place that is your own. You'll...

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his is what it’s like when you get lost. the thorns of red vines stick into your fingertips as you try to shield your face. your feet kick up the smell of old leaves, and it makes you think of suburban autumnal piles, of the hot cider that your father always made you. it’s strange to think of it now. you’re so far in, working your way towards the belly of the beast. what was waiting for you there? you stop for a moment. you are having queer thoughts. it’s then you feel the change. your hair is the color...

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She made her way through the brambles, trying not to ruin her dress. Harmony was in here somewhere, as were Peace and Hope. They called her 3 evenings ago, saying they were trapped. She had responded immediately to the call and ran to Serenity for help. She just told her to follow her instincts. As she made her way, she thought about her previous identity, the piece of her that had been erased. Suddenly, she saw Harmony, tied to a tree with a wolf growing closer. She pulled a stick from a tree and threw it at the wolf. It...

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There is a point where you have prayed enough. When you have suffered enough. It was at this point that Imelda figured out how to pick the lock on her bedroom door.

The sound of the door creaking rattled in her ears. Carefully, she felt along the walls. She headed for what she remembered was the front door.

She couldn't see anymore. Years locked up in the darkness, her eyes were mere pinpricks in her face. She could hear the sound of breakfast being prepared. Hear the sound of their voices as they laughed. The sizzle of bacon.

She remembered...

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She was stuck inside her own dream it felt like. All around her was fog and darkness. Okay, so it had to have been a nightmare. Alice tread lightly over the crunchy leaves and snapping twigs. Hands outstreched and head down so as not to get hit in the face with the seemingly large tree branches surrounding her.

She started to hear music, something she'd heard before, from her dad's record collection maybe? No. From a movie? She couldn't pinpoint the sorrow female voice she heard singing; as Alice walked more closely, she realized the song was not a song,...

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She stumbled blindly through the woods, images of every horror movie she'd ever seen flashing through her mind. Admittedly there were very few of them, but they all seemed to involve people getting lost in the woods and meeting an untimely end. The Blair Witch Project had been the most recent, and she hadn't been able to sleep for weeks after watching it. But this was only a game.

Only a game. She kept repeating the words under her breath, letting them calm her. Only a game. None of this was real. Her best friend, lying motionless on the ground...

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It was within reach.

She just had to keep walking.

The key was to never stop.

Her heart was beating.

Her breath caught in her throat and she choked back a sob.

It had to be here.

Her arms were outstretched as she fumbled through the forest, moving as quickly as she dared over the treacherous ground.

Her shoulders shook as a her fear racked her whole body.

Her back stayed straight and her chin stayed strong, even as her spirit faltered.

They would not have lied to her surely.

They wouldn't have been that cruel.

They couldn't have been....

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About the prompt

Originally displayed on:
January 13, 2011


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