Bree Alexander (she/her)
Bio
Mom of three (2 fur babies and 1 human). Married to my wife and best friend. By day, a researcher steeped in higher education reform and efforts. By night, an aspiring writer, reading enthusiast, and roller derby-er in the making.
Stories (19/0)
Just Child's Play
Maxwell locked on to his target almost immediately: a boy about half his size. Where his target went, Maxwell went, too. Maxwell moved a few seconds after the boy and stayed just out of his reach. Maxwell knew the key to a successful grab was to make sure his mark did not realize he was there and this boy did not notice him at all.
By Bree Alexander (she/her)10 months ago in Fiction
Hunting for More than a House
The real estate agent greeted each guest with a smile as they entered the mansion. She ushered the prospective buyers through the expansive kitchen and out to the crystal, clear pool to begin her pitch about the impressive home and estate. But I did not follow them. I snuck up the winding staircase and hurried into the massive primary bedroom. Instead of looking for a safe I knew I would never be able to break into, I headed directly for the dressers in the middle of the large walk-in closet. I searched for valuables that the homeowners would never realize were missing, like a pair of expensive, yet unremarkable diamond earrings forgotten at the back of a drawer or a designer watch that had been lost under a stack of clothes. Laying haphazardly in a bin of accessories was the perfect item to lift: a dainty, diamond tennis bracelet. Score. I slipped my prize into my pocket and tiptoed down the stairs. I peeked around the corner and saw the crowd still huddled around the pool. The real estate agent and I locked eyes, shared a quick, knowing smile, then I slipped out of the front door without a sound.
By Bree Alexander (she/her)10 months ago in Fiction
About Last Night
I slumped over the sticky bar, surrounded by too many empty shot glasses to count. How was I going to tell my wife that with the single stroke of a pen I had drained our bank accounts, emptying the savings it took us forty years to build in a whopping two minutes?
By Bree Alexander (she/her)10 months ago in Fiction
The Blackest Night
TW: Talks of Abortion, Sexual Assault, and Murder ************************* The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window. Amelia parked her car just behind a row of trees that lined the perimeter of the cabin. She turned off her engine and stared at the lonely cabin from the driver’s seat. She sat in the hand-me-down car her grandmother gave her a few weeks ago on the day she passed her driving test just listening to the world around her: the rustle of the auburn leaves shaking in the howling wind, the rhythm of the rain as it splashed on the ground. With hands still gripping the steering wheel, Amelia pulled herself forward and turned her gaze upwards as she looked out of her windshield. She searched the black, expansive sky, looking for the moon. Finally, she found it, full and round, peeking out from behind heavy clouds.
By Bree Alexander (she/her)2 years ago in Fiction
Senior Slaughter
The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window. Molly, as she was walking away from her car, caught a glimpse of the flickering flame just out of the corner of her eye. She stopped, mid-step, on the gravel between the forgotten cabin and her classmate’s raging bonfire, and stared back at the cabin. She waited, though not entirely sure for what. After what seemed like an eternity, Molly exhaled. She hadn't realized she was holding her breath that entire time. She turned her back to the cabin, starting to walk towards the party, but stopped and turned back to the forsaken cabin for just a second. Staring at the structure, she couldn't ignore the feeling that something deadly was lurking just behind its walls. She pushed her worries to the back of her mind as she made her way towards the bonfire.
By Bree Alexander (she/her)2 years ago in Fiction
The Valley of Fire
“There weren’t always dragons in the valley and under your new reign, may there never be dragons again!” The hundreds of men, women, and children living in the Kingdom of the West, looking up at the nearly-appointed teenage king erupted in praise. Xenos knelt before his people, humbled and terrified for what would come next. The Archduke of Doldran stood behind the trembling prince, holding the gold, jewel-encrusted crown just inches above his bowed head. The crowd grew silent as the Archduke recited the king’s prayer over Xenos, calling for the men who served before him to guide and protect the young king. Xenos silently recited his own version of this prayer to one king in particular. His father.
By Bree Alexander (she/her)2 years ago in Fiction
- Top Story - October 2021
The House My Social Anxiety BuiltTop Story - October 2021
This was always her favorite part of the day. The moment just before sunrise. Ava sat on the sofa on the back porch, looking out over the beach with her coffee in hand, and watched as the stars faded from view. She loved watching how the blackness of the night sky folded back, revealing a clear, bright, blue sky in its place. She listened as the world came to life around her. The cars began to bustle— children being driven to school and people hurrying off to work— and families began flocking to the beach.
By Bree Alexander (she/her)2 years ago in Fiction
Deep Dive
I dropped the boat’s anchor, finished zipping myself into my wetsuit, then took one final look at the map. I’ve dived Lover’s Point before, too many times to count, but one could never be too sure of what they’d find just beneath the ocean’s surface. I was not arrogant enough to think that I was a master of anything, much less, of the sea. But that is what I liked most about being out here, especially at night. The ocean was calm yet rustling, inviting yet mysterious, familiar yet strange.
By Bree Alexander (she/her)2 years ago in Fiction
Past, Present, and Premonition
“Are they getting worse?” “Yes,” I forced out through gritted teeth. My mom took one of her almost too-slender hands from the steering wheel and rested it on my knee. I gripped both sides of my head and pushed as hard as I could. Applying pressure had never helped shorten or relieve any of the pain pulsing just inches below my skull, but I did it anyway. The mental win of feeling like I had any control over this part of my body was enough to encourage and sustain this useless habit.
By Bree Alexander (she/her)3 years ago in Fiction
In Search of Fresh Fruit
Ella swallowed hard, begging her body to keep down the contents of her lunch. Even though the smell alone was enough to make her want to immediately vomit, she knew that she needed to savor this meal. The last time she ate was Tuesday morning. Today was Friday.
By Bree Alexander (she/her)3 years ago in Fiction
One Light and My Last Chance.
“Ruthie. Are you awake?” I rolled onto my side and peeled my eyelids open. I had to squint to make out Ellie’s shape in the dark. She was sitting in the recliner at the far end of the bedroom. I had expected to find her lying in bed next to me considering it was the middle of the night.
By Bree Alexander (she/her)3 years ago in Fiction
Chaos and Clarity
I woke up, nearly an hour before my alarm, to rays of sunlight warming my face. That should have been my first sign that today was not going to be like every other day. The overwhelming scent of lavender and chamomile strangled me, pulling me out of my groggy, half-awake state. Our house usually smelt like vinegar and fabric softener because of my husband’s constant cleaning. Though whatever was happening in the kitchen seemed pleasant, it all felt very out of place.
By Bree Alexander (she/her)3 years ago in Fiction