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Latest Stories

May 19, 2018
Fantasy Stories Jo Carroll

The Curl and Vampire

She was a pretty thing to be sure, the little girl with the curl. Her cheeks were as red as blood and her skin as smooth as porcelain. And yet there was something odd about her clear blue eyes—something empty and soulless. She sat atop her throne of building…
May 17, 2018
Mystery Stories Nicole Robb

New Frontier

Still groggy from her hibernation chamber, Stacey checked the readings once again on the ship's control panel.She had read them right. "Tom! Something's wrong." "What is it?" Tom emerged from the back where he had been checking on the twelve hundred sleeping…
May 17, 2018
Mystery Stories Laura Ellison

Remedy

The smell of death hung heavy and pungent in the air. Sickness touched the skin and covered it in a dewy glow that in any other situation could have been attractive. Castellan held a scented handkerchief over her nose as she walked through the village to the…
May 17, 2018
Fantasy Stories Dylan Thomas Nichol

Forged in Shadows

Screaming was all that could be heard through the bone chilling halls of the dungeon. This was what the supposedly great nation of Hace really was. An ugly abomination lay underneath the stunning Admor Keep, and Caelin made the long journey through it, his…
May 17, 2018
Mystery Stories Isabel Schwaak

Something Stronger

A thick grey stone wall separated the village of Telly Fenn from the wilderness. A narrow path led the way out of the village and melted into a crossroad, from which a crooked path strayed far into the dark forest. The inhabitants of Telly Fenn were content…
May 17, 2018
Fantasy Stories Jade De-Terville

A Light Bulb Called Tink

“This is more than just a bloody mid life crisis,” Karen said clutching a tattered red book, until her knuckles started going white. She savagely threw the book onto the chequered dining cloth, and ran her hands through her untamed hair. “Oi, mind the…
May 17, 2018
Fantasy Stories April Winters

Area Twenty Four and a Half

I, Jim Roberts, got fired today. I didn’t realize Mr. Kerr, my boss, was standing behind me when I referred to him as Kerr-mitt. He failed to see the humor, and now I have no source of income. Looks like my journalistic aspirations are out the window. I…
May 17, 2018
Fantasy Stories Jeremy Szal

Crimson Snow

16th Day of Regon, Year 455 of the First Dawn I could feel the cold as we climbed higher, the chill reaching into my bones. The wind whispered across the grassland, flapping my black hair over my face. I wanted to lie down. I wanted to sleep. I wanted to…
May 17, 2018
Fantasy Stories B.J.Neblett

Forever

“Segue the next couple of records with a jingle then go into a stop set. I’m gonna get some air.” Hy Lit flashed his agreeable smile, adjusted his trade mark tinted glasses and winked. “You’re a natural, kid.” Then he disappeared out the studio door. The…
May 17, 2018
Fantasy Stories BJ Neblett

Pockets Full Of Wishes

“Don’t put your hands in the pockets!” Jimmy looked at his sister. It was just a winter coat, a used one. It was all his parents could afford. But it was his. He picked it out. Now he stood proudly before the store mirror admiring the blue denim coat with the…
May 17, 2018
Fantasy Stories Laura Ellison

Consumed

Arlia knelt down on a silk cushion in the middle of the room. She took a deep breath and centred herself. Gramps always told her to do this, sometimes he jabbed her in the sides with his walking stick if he thought she rushed meditation. In front of her the…
May 17, 2018
Fantasy Stories Paul Magnan

Scorned

I grasped the rough edges of the tombstone and pulled it from the strands of thick, yellowed grass upon which it lay. I set it in an upright position. The words “Dear Love” were carved along the top of the stone. I had carved those words. For a few seconds…

 

 

My hands are shaking, I cannot stop them and I am barely breathing, because never in my life have I felt more beautiful than in this moment, right here. Enveloped in white lace and tulle, I carefully run my fingertips along the tiny seams in the bodice of my dress. The princess staring back at me from the mirror smiles, and I can feel tears welling up in my eyes. I have not even started down the aisle yet. I truly hope everyone is right when they say this is going to be the happiest day of my life. I pull up the sweetheart top a bit, adjusting my bust to look just right. I take a deep breath, nervousness rising up within me. Am I making a mistake? My hand immediately goes to my mother’s locket around my neck. The locket itself is silver with tiny blue and white flowers on the front and it dangles from a chain I bought six years ago at a local jeweler’s going out of business sale. There is nothing in the locket, the small metal clip that was supposed to hold in a picture or a lock of hair has long since broken. I have thought about getting it fixed, and Bruce, the man waiting for me at the end of the aisle, has offered to get it fixed many times, but I don’t think it will ever happen.

I was nine years old when my grandmother died. Her house was old and not in the best part of town, but she always had something baking. Cookies, pies, or cakes were always “just about to pop out of the oven, so why don’t you stay for a bit” and she always had enough to share. I remember seeing the locket swinging from her neck as she forcibly mixed the cookie dough by hand with a large wooden spoon, or as she pressed down the rolling pin to flatten out a pie crust. I would sit opposite her at the small island in the bright yellow kitchen and she would tell me stories about princesses and dragons. She told me that her locket was given to her by a fairy godmother, and that it had given her the strength to escape her dragon all by herself. At the time I did not realize she was talking about my grandfather. Grandmother said the locket would become my mother’s, and then mine. She talked about my mother becoming strong enough to run from her dragon, but little did she know that two years after she died, my mother’s dragon would run himself out of town.

I was eleven years old when my father left. I cried and cried, waiting for daddy to come home. My brother told me that daddy was never coming home, that love is a joke and only the stupid believe in it. I remember my grandmother’s locket swinging around Mommy’s neck as she fell after Daddy hit her, and the chain breaking as he pulled her close enough to smell the alcohol on his breath, screaming that she was the biggest mistake of his life. Mommy picked up the locket and told him to leave if he wanted to, but know that if he did, he better not ever come crawling back. I can still see the imprint of the flowers on her palm from how hard she was clutching the locket when she finally let go of it three hours later. She never got the chance to wear the locket again after that. We went to the doctor to get her nose set and the doctor saw something on the scans, we should do some more tests. The locket got put in her jewelry box and stayed there through the two rounds chemo. I almost buried it with her. Almost.

I am twenty six years old, gazing at this locket hanging from my own neck, the history of it weighing me down. I carry these women with me now, and forever more. My grandmother never got her happily ever after because by the time she left my grandfather she had a daughter to think of, and my mother’s life was cut short before she got a happy ending. When I walk down this aisle, I will be bringing them with me. I will share this with them for all they gave me. I release the locket, sure in my decision to trust in love and myself. One more deep breath, and as the wedding march begins I can almost feel them with me as I walk to meet my prince, not a dragon in sight.

 

Bio: My name is Sydney Sheldrick. I am a middle child of five, all brothers, from the middle of America. I am currently studying American Literature at the University of Nebraska at Omaha. My hobbies include reading, movies, and spending time with my pug, Peanut.

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