Some stories are written just to be entered into challenges
My ideas for stories tend to be on the darker side, so take that as a you will.
Non binary (they/them)
Every year for my birthday, my mom and dad send me old home videos, they transfer them from a VHS to a disk so I can watch them on my TV. My birthday is tomorrow so I've been on the lookout for a package. We didn't have any videos of me before I was a year old, my dad said it was because they didn't think to film videos before then, they always hate how late they started filming but I'm just glad they started to begin with.
8 years ago, close to Christmas eve, me and my sister walked into our moms house, only to have this energetic dog come running to the door, tail knocking over anything that got in its way. My first thought was that we were just babysitting her and she was staying for a few days. When my mom told us she was ours and her name was Zoey, me and my sister broke down in tears and laughter while petting our new dog. She was nervous at first, not sure where she was allowed to be, but she warmed up pretty quick. Like many new dog owners my mom started with "okay Zoey sleeps in her dog bed...okay she can sleep in our bed" "Zoey isn't allowed on the couches....okay she can come up on the couches." She goes where she pleases and will sit on you or just on your feet so you can't get up.
The Noises at Night
I enjoy going to antique stores, everything there just feels like it has a story that needs to be told. The lamps still have another room to light up, the stuffed animals still have another child to comfort, the couches still have another family movie night to host. The only thing I don't really enjoy seeing is pictures, family albums and individual photos being in a store for someone else to view. I often wonder how they end up in a store, did someone accidentally put them in a box to be sent here, did someone mean to get rid of them? Is someone looking for them?
Do You Read Me?
-THIS STORY HAS VERY DARK THEMES INVOLVING INSANITY AND SUICIDE- "We often hear stories of ships breaking down and the crew starving to death, turning against each other, or resorting to cannibalism before they eventually go insane or die. I wonder if the next story about a wrecked ship will be about my ship..." I sighed to myself "why am I even writing in this journal anymore? Maybe just to keep myself sane for a little longer." It's only been 4 days, but when everything around you looks the same and you are isolated from everyone, your mind gets weaker every passing hour. Now we are in the hands of the violent sea, her unforgiving tides deciding our fate.
Till This Feels Like Reality
"Thank you Dr. Morrison" I say while leaving the doctors office. "Of course, Vincent. Hey one more thing" he says, stopping me from opening the door and leaving, "yes?" I asked. Dr. Morrison stands up and comes close to me, "I know your hallucinations can be scary. But remember...they can't physically interact with you. No matter how real it seems, they cannot touch you. Okay?" Dr. Morrison opens the door to his office, walking me out. "Thank you...I'll remember that." I leave his office and go to the waiting room where my girlfriend was sitting, waiting for me. "Carolyn" I said, gaining her attention. "Vincent!" She said while standing up to meet me by the door so we could leave. "How did it go? Any new coping skills I can help with?" She asked, while holding my hand walking out to our car. I love Carolyn, she's always so supportive of me and always wants to help. "Kind of, Dr. Morrison told me to remember that nothing in my hallucinations can physically touch me. They can't hurt me." She nodded her head "I'm sure that is comforting to hear." She gave me a smile and we got into our car.