The Beauty of Ignition
The clock chimes to 12am. The manor's eerie aura always felt overwhelming around this time. I began putting my music sheets to the side and packing away my violin in it’s brown leather case, carefully as always. My parents always used to say how much of a perfectionist I was. How I hadn’t ever needed to be asked to put my toys away, because by the time papa would walk in, all my teddys would’ve been lined up in straight lines along my shelves. As I leave the marble lined walls of the music room, the scent of death lingers out into the halls of the manor. ...READ MORE
The dress lay on her bed, with all its frills and flowery fabric. She was disgusted at the sight of it. Surely her mother would have known by now. Dresses and skirts and all the sickening pink that came with being born a girl.
She stood in front of the bathroom mirror, moving her hands through her hair. The length made her want to tear it all out. Another problem, her mother had never let her cut her hair, insisting that to look beautiful she needed to keep it long. Well, maybe she didn’t want to look beautiful. Maybe she wanted to look handsome. ...READ MORE
Aoibhe sits at her cluttered desk, crying in anguish over her twenty Straith Pictiúrs: the picture sequences used in the Irish oral exam. Scattered among the black and white images are her highlighters, their colourful ink now washed away by her tears . Normally, Aoibhe prided herself on her organisational skills. What a disappointment this was, yet the irritating ticks of the clock tormented her more. It was midnight. Tomorrow she will be a victim of the Scrúdú Béil. It occurred to her that, because she started learning Irish at five, a fifteen minute conversation in Irish should be fun? ...READ MORE
Bob and the Giant Tree
One day, 21 year old Bob Benson was walking to his local shop to buy some milk. On the way home, a stranger jumped in front of him and told him about some special seeds that he would be willing to give Bob in exchange for his car keys. Bob decided to give him the keys and took the seeds from him. Since he had no car now, he had to walk wherever he went now. This idea did not sit well with his wife Claire, complaining how he gave a way their only car for some stupid seeds. ...READ MORE
School shooting (a story of an hour)
Tick, tock, tick, tick, tock Megan kept strong eye contact with the clock that hung above Mr Maguire's desk, teasing her as each minute seemed to go by like an hour.
Only five minutes left now until the weekend, two whole days of freedom, she thought with a smile. Megan didn't hate the people at her school, it was the long, boring classes that she hated. Nothing exciting ever happened. ...READ MORE
A scream fills the empty spaces of the forest.
Wildlife scatters away from the pitch, absorbing the pain delivered with each new wave of shrieking.
I curse the world and beyond, but what do I care?
I don’t. All I can feel is the dangerous grip of fear and rage trapping my heart. ...READ MORE
Not In To Be Out
Christina wished it was ‘in to be out’ but she knew it wasn’t. Still, she trusted Shelby. That’s why she told her, because Shelby was her best friend. But, it turned out, she was the ‘best friend’ who told everyone.
Now when she passes through the school halls, she gets a “Lesbo” or “Queer.” The amount of times she has lost balance while getting changed in a bathroom stall instead of the changing room is uncountable. ...READ MORE
The throne is cold and no place to call home. There is not one cell in my body that is not lonely. To be a woman in a world placed in the hands of man is the scariest thing I have ever known. War births itself within the walls of a kingdom. The slaughter of my brothers and sisters' weeps Apon every surface of my femininity. The eggshells below my feet crunch with every fragile touch of my fragile step, and my throbbing heartbeat rings throughout my head like a banshee's cry. This feeling seems to be infinite. ...READ MORE