Eugenia Moreno
Bio
I love writing fiction stories, especially thrillers and fiction. Hope you guys like my stories!
Stories (28/0)
Home? (Chapter 9)
"What is it?" His superior looks at him while the individual bends down to determine the cause of his disruption. I'm silent, and my body, knowingly of the situation, begins to sweat intensively to the point where a puddle is almost forming. While my hands are shaking, I switch positions so that it becomes even harder for them to spot me. I then notice his helmet which is beside him. While both men are distracted with a banal conversation about what could have hit his foot, I grab the helmet quickly and place it facing the chair, so that when they look down, the first object they are able to see is said headpiece.
By Eugenia Moreno6 years ago in Futurism
Neighbours (Chapter 2)
9 AM I wake up and realise it's Saturday. I must have fallen asleep watching my new neighbour draw, his pencil maniacally tracing the paper. I wonder what he's created. However, when I look up to stare at his open window I see that he's left. His room remains exactly as he had left it, with that lab coat sitting on the hanger waiting to be worn. Is he really a doctor or just pretending to be? Perhaps he likes to think he can save lives when he's really just an artist. I don't know and I'd like to say that I do not care but something about him is intriguing and, frankly, attractive. Am I falling for a stranger despite my husband leaving me not so long ago? Maybe, and it feels rather bizarre. I see the wine glass, staring at me with its shiny surface rather accusingly. Why did I drink? I shouldn't have but I still did. My head hurts a little but the sound of children screaming diverts my attention from my own sorrows. There I see my neighbour's children, laughing and jumping even though they have just woken up. I envy their energy and wonder if that is one of the reasons why he left me. The tedious routine which our life had become without barely any contact or intimacy in our lives. Simple arguments which were never resolved and the guilt I felt for not being able to make him happy. I stand up suddenly as I cannot bear to think about past times. Those are gone and I moved here for a good reason. I decide I should go out for a walk, perhaps stop by a bus station where perhaps I'll get to meet my new neighbour as he heads somewhere in town. Or, instead, I should put on my gym gear and head to the local gym in the hopes of finding him there. I don't know, but I must head out.
By Eugenia Moreno6 years ago in Horror
Home? (Part 8)
For a second I maintain my eyes locked on the screen, wondering. We were told that humanity was to embark on a ship to save itself from catastrophe, from the so-called "End." Our mission was to head to a new planet, inhabit it, and make it ours to create a new community where human life could be reborn again so we could maintain our species. We were also told that those living on Earth, which was the majority of the population, would inevitably die in no more than a few weeks. I know now that at least one of those statements was a lie.
By Eugenia Moreno6 years ago in Futurism
Neighbours (Chapter 1)
10 PM I'm sitting in front of my window at home, celebrating my promotion with a glass of wine. I give it a sip, enjoying the view of my neighbours' Friday activities from my accustomed sitting place, facing my open window. I see a light coming from one of the many small terraces that decorate the façade of the building. I hear the voices of children, happily laughing and setting a table. I can only imagine their mom has cooked something extremely pleasant. Another light is turned on and this young boy enters, dressed all in sports. He's about to change, but soon notices me and awkwardly puts the blinds now, leaving the room protected by an opaque wall. Suddenly I see another light flicker, about a floor higher up. A tall man enters the room with a couple of boxes being carried by his long, strong arms. He lets them drop with a loud bang and sits down on top of one, checking his phone for about ten minutes. The rest of the complex seems to have gone to sleep. I should to. I have no reason to stay awake and watch my neighbours carry on with their day. No friends, no plans. Just me, as it has always been.
By Eugenia Moreno6 years ago in Horror
Home? (Part 6)
The paper sits in front of me, as dangerous as a hungry lion. My hand is shaking, not letting the pen sign neatly. I don't want to do this. I don't know what I'm getting myself into, but it must be something truly dangerous if we are not allowed to read the clauses of said document. The President is sitting there, fiercely looking at each one of us, especially me. Does he know me? Has he seen us exploring in that basement? I look over to Max, who gazes back at me for a second and then puts his name on the signing line. He drops the pen on the table and leans back, as if this was the most relaxing day of his entire life. I roll my eyes and let out a small sigh and leave the writing tool on the table. I simply sit straight, looking at the wall in front of me, to avoid making any eye contact with our governor. The time is up and the Invigilators gather themselves around us and ensure that all the papers have signatures on them. Unfortunately, one girl has refused to sign it. She begins sobbing, despite her attempts to show some strength. They instantly pull her out of the chair with impressive force and drag her along the room until she's outside. The door closes and I'm sure we'll never see her again. I can hear her screams fade with every step her guards take to put her somewhere else, hidden from the rest of us. I wonder if she'll simply be punished or killed? The thought makes me shiver and makes me feel a hundred times worse. Just like everyone in the spaceship, I've done nothing. I've sat there, watching the whole scene unfold, how violence has filled the air, and, instead of protecting her, I've let her go. Fear is truly dividing.
By Eugenia Moreno6 years ago in Futurism
How to Build Up Your Confidence
We've all been there. "This dress makes me look fat," "this skirt makes me look like I'm seeking attention," etc. We are all ruled by social norms and by the "what will they think of me?" stigma. I think it's time we change all that. I've always been insecure (I made a post about my EDs already if you want to check it out). Always preoccupied with my body because I thought that my physical appearance is all that matters and that nobody pays attention to your inner self.
By Eugenia Moreno6 years ago in Viva
How to Get Yourself into Sports
We've all been there. "Yeah, I'll go to the gym tomorrow" or "it's just that I hate exercise and I eat healthy enough so I'm fine". We give excuses at the thought of sweating or running short of breath. The thing is while eating healthy makes up 80 percent of a good lifestyle, sports and fitness is still 20 percent. Now of course, when we think of "getting fit" we tend to envision ourselves running on some cold Saturday morning, while it's pouring rain outside. But, if there's one thing I've learned from seven years of fitness and finding my way into sports is that running is not the sole thing that can give us that missing 20 percent of health. In fact, when I started exercising I too began jogging. I quickly found how much I hated it. Of course, there will always be those people who adore it and have always loved the idea of a little run to get distressed and others end up liking it after doing it for some time. Still, some of you, just like me, simply can't stand it, even if it becomes a daily thing. It's like working in an office, there will always be people who like it and find a monotone routine exciting in some ways, but others, while like the idea of earning an income from a nine to five job, don't really like spending their time in front of a screen, sitting down for hours.
By Eugenia Moreno6 years ago in Longevity
Home? (Part 5)
"Welcome, welcome, everyone," says the President in the most squeaky yet excited voice I have heard in a long time. None of us have met him personally for we are considered too insignificant to have any direct contact with our governor. It's rather strange how the habitants of this aircraft seem okay with the idea that they have never even seen what our leader looks like. He has appeared once or twice on one of the massive panels allocated in the center of the spaceship to give some important public announcements. However, that only happened in the first two weeks of our arrival to the aircraft, and since then I would even say that his existence had become a myth. For me, at least, for I didn't even think he was a real person. But I've been proven wrong. From what I remember, he's gone a little bit fatter and, instead of having just one prominent double chin, he's now upgraded to a triple chin. His stomach is not small either and I begin wondering where he gets eatable food from, bearing in mind ours is mostly purée, provided to us as a supposed good nutrient source that can be easily chewed and eaten faster than actual solid pieces. Even our times to feed ourselves are under control, and there is no room for relaxation or enjoying a simple moment. We eat in solitude, and it's no surprise that this banquet which we have been invited to is perplexing enough.
By Eugenia Moreno6 years ago in Futurism
Hell Underground
The alarm rings relentlessly, waiting to be turned off. I do so with regret, knowing that I have to get up and go to work. Barely a sound can be heard outside, except for a few cars passing by my window. My feet finally manage to step out onto the wooden floor of my room. As per usual, I take a shower, have some breakfast and prepare myself to face another tough day at work, where I'll have to get involved in banal conversations with my colleagues on top of all the paperwork. I sigh just thinking about it. About half an hour later, I step out of my small apartment in the center of Madrid, outside of which one can barely distinguish an earthly sound. It's such a cold winter morning, that December is almost tangible. I feel like a ghost, invisible, while I walk the small distance between my home and the subway station, outside of which there is already a homeless gentleman begging for money.
By Eugenia Moreno6 years ago in Horror
My ED Story (Part 2)
So, as I said last week, the dream to be thin was not the sole one to turn into the darkest reality. Once I realised my habits needed to change, I not only began to eat comfortably but going out and enjoying my friendships, old and new. However, my healthy relationship with food began to deteriorate again. I wanted to gain a stable and normal amount of weight for my age and height so that I could become a better skater and athlete and regain my period. Yet, I began eating colossal amounts of foods which, for my low weight of 44 kg, was necessary but only at the start. Soon, my body saw the opportunity to eat all the foods I had been depriving myself of for so long. And that's how binge-eating took hold of me. I kept on eating massively, without paying attention to the fact that I was full and gradually gained the weight I was looking for. Once I reached the healthy level, I could not stop eating. It was as if anything was an excuse to eat: a good training day, a bad day in general, sad news, good grades... soon I became addicted to food, especially all that junk that I had not allowed myself to even touch for many years. It was embarrassing. I would head to the supermarket almost every night to buy sweets and chocolates. I don't even know how much I was able to consume in one of my attacks, but I'm sure it was 3000 kcal worth of snacks almost daily, plus an unhealthy amount of bread and pasta during the day. I guess the only good thing was that I never stopped exercising which probably hindered much of the bad part of binge-eating and perhaps why I never gained too much weight. My top was probably 65 kg at the time and I was 5'8'' so I wasn't really overweight, just bloated, all the time. When I came back home in the summer, my parents could tell something was wrong because after each term I would come back bigger. I never mentioned binge-eating but realised I had a problem. I was constantly thinking of the next meal, right after I had just emptied my plate! I had an issue that I needed to solve. Took me a year to properly understand I had an addiction, and it's something I'm still recovering from. Right now, when I walk past an aisle of chocolate I have to stop the strong urge, but I'm doing it right. I began weightlifting as a surplus to my skating sessions (my kind of cardio) and it's helped a lot. I feel stronger than ever, and I'm eating balanced. Super healthy during the week, allowing myself only a little snack on a Friday to treat myself. I workout every day except for a rest day that I choose every week to allow my muscles to repair. With these two experiences, I just want to let you know that there are many times when you'll get hit by something unexpected and dangerous, and, even though getting help is super important, ultimately the change has to be made by you because it's your body in the end, and you know yourself the best. I don't judge whether being my weight and height at the time is or isn't fat for some of you, cause I know everyone looks different with the same weight and age. Alos, being thin isn't bad either but chose what makes you happy. Now that I'm balanced and getting better every day, I'm super happy though I'm not as lean as I used to be. But, it's not the physique that makes you YOU, it's who you are inside and your ideals. The body is not a reflection of your inner self, just a sort of presentation for people to first get a glimpse of you. It doesn't define you, and, when you feel good, you see it outside and inside.
By Eugenia Moreno6 years ago in Psyche