Short Story
The Secret of the Heart
“Can’t believe my baby turns twenty today” Kaliope said to herself as she pulls out a heart shaped locket from her jewelry box. “Aunt Maggie would be so proud of her”. Kaliope stared at the locket while remembering the day her aunt Maggie first wore the locket. It was Maggie’s wedding day. Kaliope, still only a child, was part of the wedding. That was the last time Kaliope heard a prayer, a sermon… anything religious, for that matter. A few months after Maggie’s wedding the government set to eradicate all religions, as the government accuse believers of treason and interfering with social progress and international conflict. The government allowed anyone who disagreed with religion to imprison believers, and under certain circumstances even murder them. Without religious influence, the government became brutal and cruel in their treatment to other nations. Eventually those other nations adopted the same anti-religion approach to caught up with their brutal defense. The heartlessness of those that despised religion resulted in millions of deaths and destruction. The past forty years had not replaced what the world lost. Freedom of religion, privacy, safety.
Maria MaitlandPublished 3 years ago in FictionThe Antidote to Insanity
Carla found herself in a corner holding on tight to her children. As she slowly regained consciousness and became more aware of her whereabouts, flashes of what had happened came back to her. There were other survivors, looking just as confused as her. Suddenly the door flew wide open and someone came stumbling and crawling in. He slammed the door shut behind him and frantically looked for pieces to make it impossible for anyone to get in. Then there was frenzied banging on the other side and you could hear loud angry roars. Those who were closest to the door threw themselves at the door to prevent what was outside from coming inside. Eventually whatever was outside gave up and everyone inside relaxed.
[email protected]Published 3 years ago in FictionQueen Dystopia
Queen Dystopia By Trevor Brewton Once upon a time there was a queen and her name was dystopia. She was clothed in the garments of her idolization. People assembled from all over as if an army in their nature with a yearning to worship her. This queen was different from other queens; she couldn’t keep a king. The same yearning that people had for her heart; She had for herself to find a king worthy of her misguided expectations. The queen's father abandoned her when she was only a baby leaving her with only a heart shaped locket. She idolized this heart shaped locket keeping it in a glass chamber. She grew cold in heart and vindictive in her ways. Only the people that truly got close to her ever knew her true nature. Dystopia was the queen of the new apocalyptic age. Over time her heart grew callus as she replaced king after king after king; with no empathy breaking every heart. She found herself in turmoil. She was growing mechanical in her ways. Living in a false sense of reality. She wouldn't wake up. She couldn’t wake up from this world she was working so hard to create. She treated each king as a mirror, trying to find herself inside them. She had countless soul ties and she never took time in between as she abandoned each one like her father did her. What she didn’t realize was that her blindside for this vicious cycle was inexorably destroying her. She carried a chain link bag full of demons that no one could see. True spiritual warfare living in the intangible. Surrounded by darkness. One day she woke up and things were different. Something was off. She was all alone with no king, so she threw a tantrum. She then fled her room and ran to the glass chamber. She opened the chamber and gazed at her heart shaped locket, but this time she noticed something very different to her surprise. There was a key hole she had never seen before, but there was no key. She didn’t want to break it because she held it in such high regard. It was the only thing she had from her father. She sent all of her best knights on a journey to find the lost key, but to her demise each knight returned with no key. She grew furious, destroying everything to find the lost key. In doing so all of the people that idolized her came to see her true colors and they feared the worst for their life and land. She always wondered if there was something inside the heart shaped locket and now she knew that there was indeed. She thought to herself what if this is the answer? What if this is the key to my own heart? She called upon her mother for answers. Her mother acted as if she was unaware of the key hole as well, all while knowing in the back of her head that she buried it a long time ago. She buried the answers. She buried the truth. See the keyhole was just for looks. There was no physical key, but queen Dystopia did not know this. Queen Dystopia did notice something different about her mothers reaction in regards to the lost key. Something very different indeed. Queen Dystopia questioned herself saying is my whole life a lie? Queen Dystopia’s mother broke down and unveiled the truth to her, breaking every strong hold on Queen Dystopia’s heart. Queen Dystopia could finally see life in a whole new light. She was perplexed and forever changed. This change of heart would bring grace to this dystopian society giving Queen Dystopia the chance to find true love. Everything that she destroyed she had rebuilt. She apologized to every king that she had hurt in the past. Her chain linked bag of demons no longer had a grip on her. People started to say she should be called Queen Utopia now for she makes all things new and through this process she found true love. She found herself. The end.
Trevor BrewtonPublished 3 years ago in FictionTO MAKE AN EPIC CHOICE
Hi, my name is Lockett, and I am so HAPPY you are reading my story. Now before you throw this down or burn it because you don’t know what HAPPY really is, thought all happiness disappeared or that it is only something in fairytales, keep reading. If you absolutely HATE my story when finished, you will be able to turn it in for a free dose of your daily fix by calling the number on the last page, no strings attached, because I love and care about you. You may as well go ahead, read, call and then spread the word about the freebies, free is always good.
Dena MoorePublished 3 years ago in FictionLAST NIGHT’S RANDOM DREAM
I dream whenever I close my eyes for any significant length of time. It never ceases to amaze me. I quantum leap into some random situation and just play along until something happens. Last night was no different.
D Jay CollinsPublished 3 years ago in FictionThe Child
Tessa jolted awake and looked around her. There was a camo net inches above her head, she was outdoors and the ground beneath her was damp and cool, making her minimal clothing dirtier and damper than they already were. She rolled onto her stomach to get a better view of exactly where she was. The air was acrid with the aftermath of the bomb, piles of rubble smoldered. Now she remembered. She had crept in close last night when she saw the bomb go off. She needed food and a recently bombed out village was the best source. She wasn’t the only one who would be thinking this. Many people her age were doing this as well. They were basically running for their lives as fugitives because they had broken away from the insurrectionists.
Julie BuchyPublished 3 years ago in FictionThe Other Side of a Promise
It happened on my way home from work. The day was like any other—I’d risen with the sun, prepared for the day, and left my publicly assigned dwelling right at seven to stride to the northwestern spire and arrive for my eight o’clock shift. I spent the day denying citizens’ requests for dwellings located closer to the central spire, stopping only for a half-hour lunch break and two 5-minute bathroom breaks.
Stephanie Michelle FitzhughPublished 3 years ago in FictionReset
We were six clicks out from civilian compound 23 when my sensors picked up a pod. I had a split second to alert my team then I dived behind the nearest pile of rubble and pressed the heel of my hand to my locket for luck. It has yet to fail me and didn’t this time. The explosion delivered the viral payload in a tight circle around the trigger which just barely reached the base of the pile I hid behind. The second Geneva Convention outlawed the use of bio-gens in warfare but the off-worlders never signed anything did they? After all, they didn’t want to hurt the planet. They just wanted us gone. Sometimes I wondered if they were wrong.
Desolate
Dear Diary, Silence. The silence is golden. For days, the screams had echoed, tore at our eardrums. Blood had caked the ground, patches dotting flowers and tufts of grass. Red sprayed across trunks of trees and car horns blared, abandoned in their owners haste to get away. Traffic had ensued and blocked the cars. The only way out was to either wait or run.
Kristy PerkinsPublished 3 years ago in FictionThe Girl with the Last Strain
The valley around the girl is a stage with no actors. She stands alone, dressed in a ratty, moth-eaten sundress and a hood the color of flint over it. Her hair is long and matted with grease, but still, she ties it up in a bun to stop it from webbing across her face.
Briar EsterlinePublished 3 years ago in FictionYou Guys Are Out Of Here!
I ran like crazy to escape the wall of flames. My fellow firefighters had long ago become blackened corpses. There was a cave in the canyon wall ahead, I squeezed out a superhuman burst of adrenaline and barely made it, diving into the entrance and landing on my belly before the air filled with white hot flames and orange sparks. As I lay face down on the slimy floor, I thought of the billionaires with their private bunkers deep in earth’s bowels. What did they do down there?
Heart-shaped Hopelessness
Heart-shaped Hopelessness Nothing but ash. Can’t breathe. Can’t see. What was once a beautiful, thriving city, is now a barren wasteland. It’s been two years, 121 days, and this morning. How we’ve survived, I’ll never know. Lying on this cold concrete deep inside the inner-city water drainage system is the only place to call home. Hearing the soft breathing and whimsical, dream-filled whispers of Aaron and Joan lulls me into deep thought about what the day holds. So much to do and not much time to get everything accomplished. I am by no means “mom material”, but since the warheads hit, my youth had been stripped away; now my primary focus were my younger brother and sister’s future. The sun is just now breaking dawn and I must make a food and supply run while the ash-filled smog is at its thinnest.
Katie FosterPublished 3 years ago in Fiction