Excerpt
The Shortening
My mother told me stories when I was a child about how many women, long ago, lived in fear of men in some form or another. She told me how men were violent, greedy, and sexist to their female counterparts. She threw around the word “rape” and “harassment” often. It seemed as though she didn’t have a single positive thing to say about them. These are the stories told to us in our history. And yet, men are so precious to us now. They serve a vital role in our communities. Without them we cannot survive. This is what they teach us in school. The teachers tell us that men are necessary to sustain life on Earth and that they have a unique gift that women need in order to bare children. This is why they live at the special centers all across the country. Academies built and run by some of our most powerful and strongest female leaders. It is for their protection. It is for the value they bring to our community. It is for their essence. It is for the greater good. These are all lies.
By Lauryn Gullberg5 years ago in Fiction
Good Neighbors
"Good fences make good neighbors." I think of that line, everyday when I wake up and walk my stretch of fence in the morning. It's an old line from an old poem, I don't remember it's author or where I found it, probably in school, it seems so salient to my life now.
By Rylan Alexander5 years ago in Fiction
A Peaceful Interlude
Maisie stares out at the horizon before her, her feet dangling over the edge of the bridge. Tears brim in the corner of her eyes, a few falling errantly down her cheeks. She knew this would happen, that she would end up here, watching another sun rise alone. As soon as the council spotted Anna, she knew what was coming. She knew there’d be questions and that they’d pull Anna away from her and send her…she doesn’t know what they’ll do with her. “Damnit,” she whispers cursing herself for being so reckless, for daring to dream, for allowing Anna into her heart knowing it would end up broken.
By Carly Gibbs5 years ago in Fiction
Trapped In An Imprisonment Of My Own Making
Dear Diary, Day 1 June 18, 2009 I had a choice. I should have known better. How can someone lie, and be so deceitful? If only I hadn’t lost something so precious and rare. I can’t forgive myself for losing it. I knew I shouldn’t have gone back to the one place that felt like home, that made me feel safe...
By Brittaney Privitera5 years ago in Fiction
Taysir’s Warrior
Erix should really be asleep. They still have a long journey to the dockyards and they all have to be up early. After today, Erix should honestly be out cold by now; but his mind is still racing from earlier. A lot had happened. A lot that Erix wasn’t used to.
By Jeanine Kaye Hila5 years ago in Fiction
Guild of Nightmares
P The light was quickly fading, night fast approaching, and with the dark the Nightmares would surely follow. I ran. I had been stupid, leaving it so late to travel back. I should have stayed in the town, or found a travelling companion. But people would wonder, especially at the unusual cloak and net mask. No, this was my own fault, my stupiditiveness. Oh my, now I’m making up words, I thought to myself.
By Morgan Christy Rickards5 years ago in Fiction
A Soul for a Kingdom
The king walked into the prison wearing a long, hooded cloak. His mission today was not exactly official royal business. He stalked past the guards-a few that he trusted to keep his dealings quite. Or, at least, he trusted that their greed would keep them quiet, so long as he bribed them properly. He was king. Bribes were of little consequence to him.
By Kristen Slade5 years ago in Fiction
Project M.A.R.A.
As his eyes tried to open he could feel the intense pain all over his body. The ringing in his ears was incessant. He struggled to grab a coherent thought from the cloudy confusion in his mind. Was it really that smoky or was he losing his sight on top of everything else? He was screaming or at least he thought he was, "Mara!!! Mara!!! Where are you?" He knew he was yelling for her but he couldn't hear a sound. The panic was beginning to take over. What had happened, why did everything hurt so much, why couldn't he see her, she had been right there, right in front of him. He knew it just as sure as he knew his own name, she had been just a few feet in front of him, that sweet gentle smile, those kind beautiful green eyes, and her long black hair ever so slightly blowing across her face in the gentle April breeze. Just seeing her standing there waiting for him made him feel as though his life finally had a purpose and meaning.
By Kandi Evans5 years ago in Fiction
Ornaments of Power
It has been years since I entered this one’s domain. A pitiful thing, striving for things so far beyond its reach. Never quite satisfied with the work they did, working harder for things that should have been better for those they led. They should have known corruption like any other facet of nature is unyielding, and ultimately deadly.
By Isabella Campos5 years ago in Fiction
Too Many Musings of the Apocalypse
It's been a long three weeks! As someone who devoured dystopian novels circa 2010-2012, Vocal's Doomsday Diary challenges—in partnership with Unbound—seemed right up my alley. I managed to scour my ideas and write 20 short stories of varying apocalyptic scenarios. (And, yes, I had to call back a few for edits because I forget to include the heart-shaped locket, the key detail required for all entries.)
By Jillian Spiridon5 years ago in Fiction
Blood in the Water
Her skin was sticky with sweat and blood. The afternoon heat mixed with the smell of the salty sea beyond the treeline didn’t cover the smell of her sweat or the blood on her arms. At least there is rain, she thought as she slipped down the trail. You could see her footprints making long grooves in the mud as she tried to keep her balance. She was tired of covering her tracks. There was no one left to find them anymore anyway. Damn them if they did.
By Alisha Christensen5 years ago in Fiction
