Ember Gray
Bio
Just a twentysomething Midwest girl with a story to tell.
Find me on Twitter at @embergray
Book featuring a collection of these poems and short stories coming out in August!
Stories (27/0)
The Violin
Abbie blew the dust off the old beaten case. The musty attic was cramped and smelled like old newspapers. She had never been up there before, and by the layer of dirty powder covering everything, she guessed no one else had either. She was visiting her grandpa’s house with her little sister Sylvie while their mom went on a business trip. The last time they had visited was five long years ago. She was 12, Sylvie barely six.
By Ember Gray2 years ago in Fiction
Therapy Session
The therapist finished reading about the new patient he was about to see. As he shuffled his papers onto his clipboard, he stood and made his way to the door. Opening it slowly, he looked around the lobby to see a man sitting rigidly. His right leg bounced with anxiety and he was wringing his hands.
By Ember Gray2 years ago in Fiction
The Cabin
The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window. The surrounding town refused to talk about what happened there, but the urban legends were still able to live on through kids and teens. Some will tell you a man and his brothers were on a hunting trip in the 1960s when he went crazy and shot everyone then himself. Others will say that it was a newlywed couple on their honeymoon when a deranged stranger broke in and tortured them for hours before their merciful deaths.
By Ember Gray2 years ago in Horror
The Storm Drain
I’ve always been afraid of severe weather. Living in Iowa, I’ve seen my unfair share of terrifying destruction due to nature. A derecho shredded hundreds of trees and annihilated acres of crops. Ice storms have caused horrific car accidents and knocked out the power for days, even weeks. Severe thunderstorms have flooded cities and swept away unfortunate wildlife that couldn’t find shelter. Snow has trapped people in their homes for days on end. I have woken up in a cold sweat more times than I can count from nightmares of my house burning down, trying frantically to find my dogs and grab them before the flames lick at their heels and the smoke chokes out their last breath.
By Ember Gray2 years ago in Fiction
Dear Mom
Mom, I’m terrified. Your breast cancer diagnosis has taken the air out of my lungs. Hot tears hug my eyes all day, waiting for me to burst into a puddle of despair. My chest is tight and full of static. I’m scared to lose you, but even worse, I’m terrified to see you go through this.
By Ember Gray2 years ago in Confessions
Safe Space
My chest is tight. The center of my sternum is being pulled in and down inside of me. A dizzying static is quickly creeping through my head, shooting down to my sweaty palms. With unsteady, rushed breathing, I tense my shoulders and grit my teeth. A sense of panic and hopelessness is about to overcome me like a dark heavy rain cloud, ready to soak me to the bone. I shiver in frightened anticipation and look ahead.
By Ember Gray2 years ago in Psyche