Kaneene Pineda
Bio
My mind is full of thrilling stories intertwined with details about my life. Blending them into fiction is my passion. I long to be part of a writing community. I'm here to build that.
@kaneene_kreative_writing
Stories (14)
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The Velvet Cage
1957 As soon as “I do” escaped Evelyn’s lips, a distant, unrelenting scream cut through the mansion. It yanked her gaze from the garden to the pointed arches and spires looming over the attic. Evelyn searched for the source, her frantic golden eyes darting inside her skull. Her hands stiffened in his grip but Mr. Ocellious remained still as a stone. Not even the breeze provoked his hair. He watched as her face fell from grace. Under his emerald eyes a crooked smile tightened.
By Kaneene Pineda8 months ago in Fiction
Blood on My Teeth. Content Warning.
If I die, no one will notice I’ve gone missing and I’m pretty sure I’m bleeding out. My hand is slick with blood and everything everywhere throbs and aches. The metallic stench of iron fills the air. I can’t tell if I’m nauseous or bleeding internally. Probably both. Flying to Oregon on a whim was a bad idea. All because I can’t bother to think things through. You would think someone closer to her forties than thirties would outgrow instability. It’s like I crave chaos. Attract it even. I came here because I was lonely. Because friends are hard to come by. Because she asked me to.
By Kaneene Pinedaabout a year ago in Fiction
A Life for a Life. Content Warning.
My mother planted her voice deep inside my mind. A voice so obnoxious and strident that my autonomy collapsed into a dark corner. She taught me that love was synonymous with abusive control. She mentally imprisoned me to behave only in ways that appeased her. Her love, kindness, and care would vanish when I stepped out of line. Poof! Gone in a cloud of her cigarette smoke. For thirty years, I was chained to her every desire. Each decision I made, person I dated, or friend I had was all for her approval, her favor, her love. In her eyes, if I truly loved her, I would live my life for her. A life that she never got to live. A life that was stolen from her.
By Kaneene Pineda2 years ago in Psyche
The Pythagorean Musical Scale: The Math Behind Its Importance and Imperfection
Pythagoras was a philosopher, mathematician, musician, and cult leader in 6th century Ancient Greece. Known as the father of math and music, many important discoveries are attributed to him including the Pythagorean Tuning System and what we know in Western music as the harmonic series. However, “the concept of harmonics is found in many cultures around the world, and it is possible that Pythagoras was influenced by earlier thinkers.” In fact, he is hardly the only great mind that discovered the physics and math behind musical intervals. On our journey to the truth, we will explore the history of Pythagorean tuning, the mathematics behind music, the fascinating applications musical intervals inspired, and the legend of the blacksmith’s hammer that started it all.
By Kaneene Pineda2 years ago in FYI
The American
The memories buried deep in Amy's subconscious played like movies. Children's laughter traveled through her dreams as warped and distant echoes. She was in the middle of a food fight when she awoke with a start. But it wasn't a food fight. Mischievous little ones were throwing paper at her from over there. Snickering, the children ducked down behind their seats. She couldn't be bothered to scold them. An immense pain was throbbing in her skull. Instinctively, her fingers investigated the wound on her head. Her short red hair felt matted. How did that get there, she wondered?
By Kaneene Pineda3 years ago in Fiction
The Guardian They Called Auté
There weren't always dragons in the valley. The valley was where our Anglian trees stood. Each tree was a portal to another world. The dragons used to help the Guardians protect the valley from evil and unwelcome travelers. For centuries, they kept us from harm. One day, the Cryptic Queen of Umbrous sent dark spellcasters across the galaxy to eliminate the Guardians. She wanted to harness their power for her own use. The Anglian trees died as the last royal Guardian bloodline was about to be slain. Trapping her minions on the very planets they sought to destroy. The once vibrant, pink leaves faded to grey, leaving nothing behind but a colorless valley of lifeless trees. With nothing left to protect, the dragons roamed Lavvos without purpose until 25 years later when one tree's leaves began glowing again.
By Kaneene Pineda4 years ago in Fiction
Estrangement to the Rescue
"You can't stay here anymore." My mother plainly stated while loading a Marlboro Light between her lips. "I don't know what to tell you. You aren't welcome here anymore." The unlit cigarette bounced from the corner of her mouth. She angrily muttered to herself as she looked for a lighter. The kitchen table was in disarray. Peeking out from under a stack of papers was a blank matchbook. I picked them up. SHE YANKED THEM FROM MY HAND before I could offer them to her. "Give that to me." She demanded. The smell of sulfur filled the air. The kitchen overflowed with lingering smoke under fluorescent light. Puffing away as she carried on. But I wasn't listening anymore.
By Kaneene Pineda4 years ago in Families
Cinder Block Pond
When I was a little girl, I had a plan. A plan to get out of that small town and away from my abusive family. I used to think the bad stuff wouldn't follow me if I could get far enough away. As it turned out, bad stuff was everywhere. There was no escaping it.
By Kaneene Pineda4 years ago in Fiction
Green Marks the Spot
A black duffle with the safety deposit box contents hung from my shoulder as I hurried out of the Ivory Western Bank. In my hand was the picture of Amy and a stack of documents from the closed account. I was going to need more supplies. Heeding my surroundings, I shoved the stack of papers into the side of the bag, not noticing the man watching me from his car. I quickly climbed into the driver’s seat and tossed the duffle onto the floor next to the broken marigold pot. Pulling the gun from my waistband, I placed it in the glove compartment.
By Kaneene Pineda4 years ago in Fiction
