
Melissa Ingoldsby
Stories (1297)
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To my best friend
Dear my best friend, I am going to stop using signals and just write it out this way, though I’ll just keep it obvious that it is between you and I and state things only you would know about. I’ve felt like a living ghost that was fading for over a decade with that terrible dark raven and now I am coming to light and the raven openly hates me for starting to live again. Of our lemon balm days and pancake plans, tea times and book store outings we planned, of course. I am considering of expediting my plans to sooner. I am not sure exactly when but I’ll try to keep you posted. Summer is coming and you know what that means for me. Hugs and prayers and hope from me, my dear friend.
By Melissa Ingoldsby3 years ago in Poets
Jagged
jagged, I cut open my wall and I saw the emptiness inside the mirror. The mirror that made up society. The dead rat that was full of saw dust and full of trash, I saw hatred and they all had it for each other, they just wore masks, some hide it better than others but I don’t I am free I am free I am—-
By Melissa Ingoldsby3 years ago in Fiction
Scary story
he crosses his arms, he rolls his eyes, runs around, he’s never tired. He’s at the top of the residence building. He is deciding whether or not to steal. It’s an antique mirror worth hundreds of dollars. It is from an elderly woman his mother is friend’s with, he was working at the house to fix the shower head.
By Melissa Ingoldsby3 years ago in Fiction
Invisible
“I heard… t-that if a ghost talks to you in a dream, be prepared to die,” I choked out at my dearly departed beloved. Her ghostly cries echo past her lips, time stands still yet moves quickly. “What about a kiss?” She whispers far away, yet the words hit my ear.
By Melissa Ingoldsby3 years ago in Fiction
Eaten alive
Lisa, oh my darling sweet Lisa, Please don’t be upset, Please just let me expla—- “It’s a great story I’ll bet,” she whispers in a scathing, dark way. My spine hurts from constantly shivering, and her scowl turns into a dark grin. My heart is always pounding so loud like a jack hammer into my lungs yet somehow silent. If she hears it beating too loud, she’ll get angrier. I just got home a little late. I just wanted to take a relaxing drive. But that was too late. I was out of line. I parked the car wrong, too. Too many mistakes. The neighbor yelled about how I parked the car. She had enough.
By Melissa Ingoldsby3 years ago in Poets