I was almost friends with a monster when I was eleven years old. I would have preferred a human friend, but my family had just moved to a new city where everyone was cold and distant. My father promised that I would meet new people at school, but there were still a few weeks of summer and I had nothing to do.
My self-help tape told me to kill myself
I hate my job.
I hate selling days of my life while barely earning enough to sustain it. I hate my boss who tells me I’m lucky to find stable work in such an uncertain world. I hate my friends who treat dreams like an unfortunate symptom of youth that need to be outgrown.
Xenophobia
Patient Name: Jordan Malone
Age: 42
Sex: Male
Diagnosis: Xenophobia
Time of death: To be determined
Heart Eater
I’d already found the engagement ring my boyfriend Niles hid in his sock drawer. Now he was taking me on a romantic weekend getaway with a private dinner at the base of a waterfall. It was supposed to be the best day of my life, but now he’s dead and it’s all my fault.
The Book of Fate
There’s an old man who claims to be my grandfather, but I don’t believe him. Both my parents have warned me not to talk to him, but it’s difficult because he’s always waiting for me on my walk to high school.
The smallest coffins are the heaviest
If someone pointed a gun at me and filled me with lead, then no one would question my right to remove the bullet from my body. It was forced into me against my will, and I would be a fool not to fight tooth and nail to stop it from destroying my life.
Haunted House Publishing
“Great men do not lie still in death. Our words echo across time, a light for others to follow when their own fire burns low. Thus shall my torch be taken up again; thus shall I dwell once more among the living.”
An Old Man’s Last Secret
My grandfather is 95 years old and not long for this world. There’s nothing but a mess of tubes and wires to tether him here with us. It’s difficult for him to speak, but each rasping whisper carries a severe weight that cannot be interrupted. My family doesn’t talk about things like death though, so whenever I visit with my dad we tend to spend most of the time sitting in near-silence.
Alektorophobia: A fear of chickens
Her freckles make my knees weak. I can feel heavy drops of sweat squeezing through my pores. It’s going to be my turn next, and I’ve spent the last few minutes carefully rehearsing my words and their casual inflection in my mind. Missy’s left knee is almost touching my right one as we sit on the same log, and the faintest sensation of her body heat is burning a hundred times hotter than the campfire.
My diary that I don’t remember writing
I’m that guy who will swerve across three lanes of traffic without hesitation because I spotted a sign for a garage sale. Doesn’t matter that I don’t need anything, doesn’t matter if there are three other people in my car with busy lives and no interest in digging through someone else’s trash. Garage sales are like magical dimensions where anything is possible and reality is only a suggestion.