Desirae Anaya
Bio
I enjoy exploring the depths of the human condition while it wars with outside influences. Life is a series of stories that are begging to be told. Besides its fun making the school bully into the antagonist that always gets their justice.
Stories (19/0)
What This Lifetime Has Taught Me
This has not been an easy lifetime. We never had an easy lifetime, but we acquired so much experience this lifetime should have been a breeze. We weren't going off to war, or participating in a rebellion. I know now that those lifetimes we were meant to learn the lesson of loss, betrayal, and self reliance. Looking back now, loss and betrayal were the easiest lessons to learn.
By Desirae Anayaabout a month ago in Psyche
Dreams
I keep having this dream. It isn't a nightmare, but it's not a good dream either. This dream always begins with an empty bench. The scene is different each time, but the empty bench is not. It is an old wooden bench, the kind that would give splinters if sat on recklessly. I am always compelled to sit on this bench, no matter where this bench was. The only other consistent aspect of that dream is I am the only one sitting on it. Except this time, there was another.
By Desirae Anaya7 months ago in Fiction
El Camino Chapter Two
The spring semester of my senior year was going to start on January 3rd, 1968. I had told Mrs. Eastly that I wasn’t planning on finishing up my senior year since I would be in basic training before graduation. I had never seen her so angry with me.
By Desirae Anaya8 months ago in Chapters
El Camino
War is hell. At least that’s what my dad would tell me during his alcoholic benders. “War is hell boy! You think you got what it takes to stare a man in the eyes while he takes his last breath? DO YOU?” SLAP. It was the same speech every time. My father served in the United States Marine Corp during World War Two and the Korean war. Besides a few accolades and a visit to the White House the other rewards he brought back from serving were his ongoing nightmares that he would try to silence with the bottle. When my father wasn’t drinking, or had just woken up, he would busy himself with obsessing over his physical appearance by constantly working out. He was a handsome youth, but war and alcohol were beginning to take its toll on the old man. Now he was an overweight drunkard teetering over a seventeen year old boy. This time, my father’s speech included violence.
By Desirae Anaya9 months ago in Fiction
A Reversal of Success
The mirror showed a reflection that wasn't my own. This reflection revealed a woman in her mid-thirties with long, wavy brunette hair, crows feet around the eyes, laugh lines around her mouth, a complexion that was free of blemishes despite not having make-up on, and her eyes were honey brown. This reflection was youthful and mature all at once. It looked like me but wasn’t me. What would you do if you were witnessing something like this? In a fit of rage and confused panic I threw my martini glass into the mirror shattering them both. This fit did not end there. I needed to smash every mirror in my massive four bedroom condominium. By the time I finished busting the mirrors in hallways, bathrooms, and spare bedrooms, I was breathing like a prey animal being chased by a predator. Without any energy left, I collapsed onto my kitchen floor.
By Desirae Anayaabout a year ago in Horror
The Next Full Moon
“Elizabeth! Elizabeth! Stop running! Talk to me girl!” Lady McGregor shouted breathlessly as she ran up the stairs. Elizabeth swung open her bedroom door and charged in. “Elizabeth, please tell me what happened!” Lady McGregor had finally caught up with Elizabeth.
By Desirae Anayaabout a year ago in Fiction
The Next Full Moon
If walls could talk, the audience would weep at the words spoken. What I have seen as one of the many hallways in my mistress's manor have stayed with me these last hundreds of years. My mistress fell in love with a man who took advantage of her status and meant to ruin her and her house. Beside this unlovable lord, there were others that tried to destroy my mistress’s reputation. She was an orphaned child, set to inherit lands, titles, and businesses of the oldest lineage in the country. Her governess and adopted mother was her only ally for the majority of her life. Although, with time, the servants would become the family unit that my dear mistress craved. This hollowed out manor that once endured the loss of its Lord and Lady did become a home that my mistress desperately wanted to fill with all the love she was afforded. My mistress also fell in love with a man who, despite loving her in return, could not allow his heart to destroy his own house and reputation; for he was already married to another noble house.
By Desirae Anayaabout a year ago in Fiction
