Samantha Cote
Bio
I am an aspiring horror fiction writer currently living in Canada. When I'm not writing, I work at an emergency vet clinic! I hope one day soon to make writing a full time job as it is my number one passion.
Stories (4/0)
Sam's Certified Bops n' Jams
Music has always been a huge part of my life, thanks to my dad, I grew up listening to everything under the sun and gaining a real appreciation for it. My obsession with finding music I related to started when I was a teenager, my dad picked me up from school one day and said, “I found your theme song”, he skipped to the last track on an album called “The Lion’s Roar” by Swedish sister folk duo First Aid Kit. Folk music has always spoken to me on a different level than any other genre. I call it my heart music because no matter where my musical journey takes me, I always come back to folk. The song was called “King of The World” and the upbeat tempo and earthy vocals had me hooked immediately. The lyrics were reminiscent of my youthful headstrong attitude with the chorus line “I’m nobody’s baby, I’m everybody’s girl, I’m the queen of nothing, I’m the king of the world” being the one that sticks with me still everyday. I played it on repeat for several weeks after that first listen, the song is not only special because it was something my dad had shared with me, but also because it feels like its speaking to me on a personal level even so many years later. After the discovery of my “theme song” I continued to seek out music that reminded me of myself, this has resulted in a long list over the years, so I’ll stick to the playlist highlights for now and I’ll detail some of the important songs that have come out in the last few years to keep it topical.
By Samantha Cote11 months ago in Beat
Home is Where the Farm is
When I was a kid on the farm the barn used to be the brightest of reds. It used to be full of animals and the worst smells my little nose had ever smelt. Coming back to see it now its almost sad, the wooden boards are rotting away and weeping with peeling paint. What’s left isn’t so red anymore its more of a brown, almost like when blood dries and it looks like rust on concrete. There hadn’t been a living creature in those stalls since we packed everything up and moved to the city. So much had changed but the memories still were so vivid, and that made the sad feeling seem more hopeful. If I close my eyes I can still smell the sharp scent of the hay and feel the warmth of the sun on my face. I had spent my whole childhood in the country and even now as an adult with a good job and my own family, I still look back on my time here and remember those days as the best of my life. The barn is old and tired now, it’s been through a lot just like I have. These walls watched me grow up, they watched me learn how to ride a horse and how to milk a cow. When I walk through the old creaky doors now I can remember exactly what it used to look like. Hay bails stacked up high against the walls and orange barn cats twisting around my ankles as I walked up and down the stalls petting the bristly coats of every single horse with my small hands. I can almost still feel it. The sun used to shine through the holes in the boards and you could see the dust dancing through the air. Even though the floorboards are worn down, and the walls are dull now, it feels like no time has passed since I was running through the barn with my muddy boots and grass-stained jeans. The memories are so sensory that they come flooding back with every touch, smell, and sight of the old farm. I often wonder what it would have been like if I had raised my own family in the country. I could repaint the wood to its crisp red glory, fill it with horses and cows, teach my kids how to stack the hay bails so they wouldn’t come tumbling down on top of you. They could make memories similar to my own, and I hope they would come back and remember it with the same fondness that I do. It could have been a place for them to learn and run wild without the limitations of the city and our apartment. We could fix the place up and make it look brand new, I’d leave the floors as they are though, so you could see how my footsteps wore the boards down over the years and we could watch them age with my kids and maybe even their kids. Nothing felt quite as nice as being out in the open with fresh air and sunshine surrounding you. Being in the city, I never realize how much I miss it until I’m back. Reminiscing about being a kid takes the stress of my daily life away, I feel like I don’t have anything to worry about out here. I can look out into the fields or stand in the middle of this old barn and let my thoughts melt away. No matter how much time has past, and no matter how old we both get, home is where the farm is.
By Samantha Cote3 years ago in Families
She Who Is Alone
Sola, she who is alone. A young woman struggling to make sense of what is left moves through the tunnels underneath a city turned upside down. The putrid smell of chemicals and dead rodents didn’t bother her anymore, in fact most of her senses had acclimated to life underground. Her mind though, often dreamt of the days she used to spend sitting in the sun on soft, deep green grass watching dogs play and kids pluck dandelions as if they were the most beautiful flower they had ever seen. She missed those days. It had been just over a year since a virus took over the world in a rapid and unstoppable sweep. If you were infected, you were gone. Or at least your mind was, your body moved through the overgrown ruins of the surface looking for warm blood. The world had turned into a real-life zombie movie, and the survivors were forced to move underneath the cities they once called home. Almost everyone here was alone, they knew each other only from passing glances and trading for supplies. Most had lost their families to the virus like Sola had. All she had of them now was her mothers’ necklace, she kept it around her neck for good luck. She clutched the heart shaped locket in her hand as she reminisced about life before the pandemic took over. Above her was a sewer cover, and in front of her the steel ladder that led to it. Everyday she wished for the strength to go up those steps and fight for her home. She longed to see the sun again but winced at the thought of what her city might look like now. Sola never thought of herself as brave, she always sat back when the chance to stand up presented itself. There was a cash of weapons in the tunnels in case anything ever happened, each day she walked by them she picked one out and taught herself how to use it. She knew there were people on the surface already fighting off the infected and she tried every day to build up the courage to go help them, maybe then she wouldn’t feel so alone. Sola let go of the locket and let it rest against her chest, she looked up at the cover and took a deep breath. Today she thought. Today she was going to go up there. She reached beside her for her pistol, it had become her favorite out of everything she had tried. Her bag was already packed with a handful of other weapons she was comfortable with, the little bit of food she had saved up, and medicine she had traded food for. She felt ready today, her body took over as the adrenaline started to rush through her. One foot in front of the other on the thin steel steps she reached the only thing between her and the fresh air. Without a second thought she reached up and pushed the cover aside letting the sun in and she winced as the light hit her eyes, making them water. She pulled herself up and scrambled out of the tunnel to let the air and the sun hit her skin. With her arms stretched out wide she spun around taking in the world around her. Plants were starting to grow over buildings, animals walked down city sidewalks. Sola smiled at the thought of nature reclaiming the land now that all the people were gone. After taking her moment, Sola slung her bag over her shoulder and started to walk. Her body reacting to every small sound and sudden movement as she walked, she was aware of the danger and her mind refused to relax. Things up here were definitely different, it was almost a culture shock compared to the life of gasmasks and dim lighting she had become accustomed to in the tunnels. In this light she could really see how dirty her skin was, and in passing shop windows she could see how her dark hair had become stuck to her head with grease. It felt good to be out, but at the same time she couldn’t shake the anxiety in the pit of her stomach. As she walked along what used to be a busy downtown street she felt her mothers necklace tapping against her chest in a rhythm almost like a heartbeat and that’s when she heard it. The most horrible, guttural sound she had ever heard. Sola stopped dead in her tracks and stared at the infected in front of her, she had never actually seen one before. Blood bubbled from its mouth as it moved towards her slowly, she had always thought they would be fast but in this moment she was glad that they weren’t. All those days of sitting around trying to work up the courage and now that she was here she didn’t know what to do. She started to back away slowly but kept her eyes on the infected. Sola never thought she was capable of standing up for herself but in this moment she remembered how her mom used to tell her how strong she was, and how she had so much more power in her than she knew. She held the locket between her fingers and stopped moving backwards. She knew she couldn’t run anymore; it was time to move forward. She raised her arm and pointed the pistol ahead of her, surprised by how steady she was. She wasn’t going to hide anymore, and she wasn’t going to be afraid anymore. This was her city, not theirs. She pulled the trigger and watched the infected drop to the ground. Briefly taken back by what she had just done she looked around, there was no one there to see it. She kept walking, more assured in her stride. Something already felt different, she felt stronger, more like herself. Maybe her mom was right after all this time. Sola, she who is alone, but she who is brave takes on the new world ready to make it her own.
By Samantha Cote3 years ago in Fiction
