Caitlin Mitchell
Bio
Just a 20-something writer trying to get all her ideas down on one page before moving on to the next.
Achievements (1)
Stories (14/0)
The Abyss
She took me away. She shouldn’t be allowed to do that, but she did, and now I don’t know where I am. It’s dark here. I didn’t realize how dark it could be. Have I truly only known light my whole life? Or does it just seem that way in the absence of it, my predicament made enormous by the lack of comparison? Either way, I can’t see anything. I feel pressure, though, coming from all sides, smothering me in this darkness. I have never been so alone.
By Caitlin Mitchell2 months ago in Fiction
- Top Story - January 2024
Chasing MyselfTop Story - January 2024
I'm not old. I hope to be one day, but I suppose everyone does, in some way or another. Most people don't fantasize of wrinkles or denture cream or canes, practical shoes or non-slip bath mats. I can't say I've ever daydreamed about what retirement home any future family will put me in. I can only hope I make it that far.
By Caitlin Mitchell2 months ago in History
An Atrocity of Oddities
The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window. It didn’t burn for long. Witnesses, and there were not many save for a few errant teenagers testing their boundaries in the forest that night, claim that the candle flickered for only a minute before being snuffed out. One girl claimed she saw a pair of thin, cracking lips beside it, blowing the flame out.
By Caitlin Mitchell2 years ago in Horror
Are You Watching?
Mom, there are a few things I’ve never shared with you before. I’ve never shared that on my eleventh birthday, Dad threw me the best birthday party ever. He invited all of my friends and we spent the evening painting our nails and doing facials. He even bought a special cake that was my favorite color- pink. He worked so hard, and I still get emotional when I think about it.
By Caitlin Mitchell2 years ago in Confessions
Winged
Starlight lapped at my feet in rhythm, and still the owl did not speak to me. She never did. I could beg and plead and cry and still she would watch me, wide eyes reflecting the night, never to answer my questions. I don’t know why I kept asking. Perhaps it was simply because there was no one else. I had no one left in my life to catch my tears except for her.
By Caitlin Mitchell2 years ago in Fiction
The Hunters
The owls tell us where the bodies are. They’re impossible to find otherwise. A person can search for hours, days, weeks, years, and nothing will ever come from their efforts. I once knew a man who searched for his wife for sixteen years; we would see him wandering the forest, ankles near broken as they dragged over roots and stones, calling for his lost love. The owls never showed him where she was. I never understood why.
By Caitlin Mitchell2 years ago in Fiction
When Autumn Came
Ghosts that live in the basement are rarely ever frightening. It’s the ones in the attic that you should really fear. I’ve known this all my life, as I lived in a home for a year that had a preference towards small crawl spaces hanging just above one’s bed. I woke in the midnight hours many nights as a child, only to see a pair of eyes hanging above me, watching me as I watched them. I would pull the covers up over my head and pray that the skittering noises would eventually stop. They always did.
By Caitlin Mitchell2 years ago in Horror
The Chase
She had been chasing the fox for three days now. She hadn’t meant to, in the beginning. Her only wish was to get a closer look. He had flashed past the corner of her eye, his fur rippling in bursts of scarlet and orange as he rolled through a patch of sunlight. She had never been so enchanted before as she was when watching that little fox scurry through the underbrush of her forest.
By Caitlin Mitchell2 years ago in Fiction