Chelsea Thatcher
Stories (5/0)
Lessons on Freedom
“Being around you, the constant texts and calls, it just gives me so much anxiety. I have panic attacks whenever I think about spending time with you.” I felt horrible saying the words and I wished that I could have rephrased to soften the blow, but my thoughts and heart were already racing. I had to get it over with.
By Chelsea Thatcher3 years ago in Humans
Please...
Please, someone, make it stop. Make it all stop. Please. The sky was just turning a pale shade of pink, preparing for the sun’s emergence from behind the mountains. The ice covering the frozen pond was tinged pink in reflection. Trees surrounded the pond, laden with their snowy burdens. Only a set of footprints belonging to a small animal had disturbed the freshly fallen snow upon the ground. Laura looked out from the cabin window to see what should have been a glorious and mesmerizing view. Not even her beloved nature could interrupt the grief.
By Chelsea Thatcher3 years ago in Fiction
A Familiar Shadow
In the inky blackness of a new moon, all was still. All creatures had settled in for the night. The last few leaves still left on their trees had finished rustling as the wind died down in a hurry. It might have seemed peaceful to some, but others would notice the eerie silence. Before any could understand the feeling of foreboding, the attack came. Flashes of green light shot through the darkness. Screams shattered the night as the sky burst into emerald flames. The whole village was alight. Witches, shamans, and healers ran in crazed terror. Shadows laughed with evil glee as they flicked between the flames. A small child stood near one of the buildings that had not completely burned yet. Her wispy blonde hair clung to her face as it mingled with the tears on her cheeks. She was frozen with fear and no one paid her any attention in the chaos. The familiar army had come for revenge, and they would leave no survivors.
By Chelsea Thatcher3 years ago in Fiction
The Mysterious Box
The Collins family had just moved into their new home and were busy unpacking. That's why they didn't notice the paper-wrapped box at first. It was plain brown paper, like the kind you use to cover schoolbooks. Otherwise, there was nothing to tell where it came from or what it was. The box had simply been left on the porch of the Collins home as if it were a package delivered. Sarah Collins, the teenage daughter, was the one to find the box on the porch. She brought it inside and handed it to her dad, thinking it was probably for him. From the moment she touched the box, Sarah felt an overwhelming sense of dread. It was so strange that she was relieved to hand it off to her dad as soon as possible.
By Chelsea Thatcher3 years ago in Fiction
Stress Eating
“You know that won’t solve anything. In fact, it will just make things worse.” The voice in Maren’s head came practically shouting at her as she eyed the bakery window. The first delicious thought of a slice of rich chocolate cake was quashed by the voice that sounded remarkably like her mother.
By Chelsea Thatcher3 years ago in Fiction