fictionary. 🖊

“Once upon a time, there were the inner demons, the ‘man-versus-self’ idea. It haunted them, realizing that they, themselves, were their own worst enemy... ...and they lived not-so-happily ever after.” Fictionary (n.) is a lair of short stories, poems, and other outputs crafted by learners of the 21st century specially made to feed your imagination. A “Word of the Piece” scheme is featured to help expand your vocabulary.

[fictionaryhsam-blog]

Ward 003, Ward 004

A Short Story by Patricia Fuentes

Word of the Piece: psychopathic

psychopathic -  suffering from or constituting a chronic mental disorder with abnormal or violent social behavior.

Example: The psychopathic patients escaped the asylum.

Genre: Thriller

TRIGGER WARNING: THE SHORT STORY CONTAINS BLOOD, VIOLENCE, AND PROFANITY. PROCEED WITH CAUTION.

Warning: A psychopathic patient from Ward 003 has escaped, the facility is to be put under total lockdown until the patient has been caught. The patient is of fair complexion with light freckles on both cheeks and ebony hair with wavy locks; her eye color is brown and is of 5”5 composure. All camera personnel have been alerted regarding the breach. Notify the nearest security unit in case of sighting.

Hearing the warning being broadcasted throughout the building, she looked at a slightly faded picture of a family. The pregnant mother and the father both happily holding their baby boy up and smiling at the camera while their other children, a boy and a girl, hurled teddy bears at each other.

“They should die,” she said as she faced the mirror, cut her hair, and dyed it blonde. She grabbed the chestnut-colored contact lenses and wore them.

Walking out the door was easy. However, convincing the guards near the exit to let her pass was rather difficult if it were not for the help of a fake ID and some acting.

She walked out of the facility and rode a taxi downtown. Her reflection in the rearview mirror resembled a doll yet something was amiss.

Blood. Blood smeared across her ivory skin and dangerously short silver tunic. Whose blood will it be?

“Mom! Mom! Read me the story! Please?,” little Timmy called from his bedroom. His mother smiled as she walked in with Timmy’s Mister Buckwheat’s Storybook that was filled with Spongebob stickers. “Here now, here now, make sure Mister Buckwheat is also listening,” she said with a wink. Timmy nodded and hugged his stuffed toy tightly.

“Happy Family by Archa,” his mother started to read.

❝In the forest lived a family of birds with a father, a mother, and a baby bird. The baby is loved by both parents very much. They were living very happily. However, as the days went by, the father and the mother bird started fighting over  simple reasons. The fighting kept on going for days, months even. The baby bird was so sad by seeing her parents fighting, she begged them to stop and just be happy, but they didn’t listen to her. It made her very sad. The baby bird always consoled her mother whenever the argument was over and for her sake, the mother always pretended to be convinced and supposedly returns to normal but as years passed by, the mother could no longer stay and cooperate with the father bird so she decided to leave him, but thinking of the baby, she stays.

One day, the father bird went out in search of prey so the mother bird took the opportunity and flew away with her baby. When the father returned, he could not find his family. He felt so bad and realized his mistake. He told himself, “If only I listened to my baby, this could not have happened”.

He searched for them here and there and after looking for months, he found them in a deep forest, living in a small nest. He went near the mother bird and apologized. He also apologized to the baby bird for the turn of events. By the time, the mother bird also was feeling guilty and sad for leaving the father bird alone, so she also said sorry in return. Thereafter, without blaming each other and fighting they lived with their baby bird happily.

The End.❞

Little Timmy yawned as his mother lovingly tucked him to bed and turned off his night light. She kissed his forehead and said, “Live your life happily and never blame others for your mistakes, ‘kay? I love you, Tim.” “I love you too, Mom,” he replied.

“Little guy asleep?,” Timmy’s father, Reygant Robertson, asked his wife as she joined him in the living room. Mrs. Robertson or what her husband calls her, Leigh, nodded and grabbed the remote to watch her all-time favorite TV Show.

The front door then opened to reveal Debbie, their eldest, the most stubborn but rather dashing, talented, and brilliant daughter. “I’m home!,” she said. “And where have you been, young lady?,” Leigh asked with a voice as smooth as silk. “A party,” Reygant answered and sniffed, “She reeks of alcohol.” All Debbie could do was gaze at her shoes and apologize but her mother knew better and accompanied her to her room where she was tucked into bed like Timmy, like a child being protected by her mom from the monsters in the dark.

But of course, who would forget about the university’s basketball jock, Laverne? The rudely handsome and self-centered prodigy. He’s that typical guy every girl wants to get but his only aim was to never let a relationship last for a month. For him, relationships are boring and only brings happiness for a short period of time. “Where’s Deb?,” he asked his parents. “She’s already sleeping. Why?,” Leigh replied. “That girl better know she got 10 bucks in for me,” he said before going back to his room and shutting his door with a thud.

The Robertsons was the ideal family in their neighborhood, especially because they were the only ones residing at 1818 Roguski Road. They have their eldest daughter, Debbie, a very dashing, talented, and brilliant college student, their son, Laverne, a jock with a rather rough but a family person, their little boy, Timmy, a sweet, thoughtful, kind-hearted, and brilliant little kid, and their baby boy, Jam.

“Those kids. How can we leave for work if they behave like that?,” Reygant sighed. They were supposed to go on a 3-day business trip the next day but are currently thinking twice about going. However, in the morning, there was an urgent call from their office and it was mandatory for them to go on the trip so they did. They left Debbie in charge of the household and drove to the airport.

“Are they gone?,” Laverne peeked from his bedroom door. Debbie nodded and let her brother make calls for a night party. She headed to the kitchen and prepared breakfast for all of them and afterwards, made sure that Timmy and Jam have already taken a bath and have eaten properly. She went in to take bath too and was greeted by an anonymous phone call afterwards.

“Hello? Robertson residence, who’s this?,” she put the phone on loudspeaker for Laverne to hear.

“I’m Melanie Torrin. Your mother called me and asked me to stay over and be your nanny.”

Debbie held a hand to the phone so the caller wouldn’t hear her ask Laverne if he ever recalled their mom saying that there would be a nanny. Laverne shrugged and told her to just tell the woman to come so they could prepare for the night party while someone was looking after Timmy and Jam.

It was exactly 2:59 pm when Melanie knocked on the door and started her nanny duties. Everything was well except for one thing. Melanie always sang songs that depicted torture, poisoning, and death. It made Debbie uncomfortable but she disregarded it nonetheless. Together with her brother, they called classmates and schoolmates for “a party that you’ll never forget” while the nanny made snacks and entertained the two young ones.

The party was supposed to be the night of the next day but Melanie had a plan up her sleeves. She went to Debbie’s room and handed the girl a makeup kit that she bought online. Debbie was of course, delighted and went to put the makeup on but as soon as it made contact with her skin, she screamed in pain. Her eyes welled with tears as her skin, from having itchy red spots, turned into a quickly spreading blistering rash, the makeup was irremovable. She looked to Melanie who was blocking the doorway with a maniac smile on her face. “Remember Alice? You stole her man, you put roaches in her locker, you told her to just die, you were the reason why she overdosed herself. And yet you continued on being Little Miss Perfect. You didn’t even apologize. Oh wait, you did! You apologized to yourself for getting so stressed over an imbecile. You self-centered, makeup savvy, party addict, boyfriend-snatcher, bitch,” Melanie whispered in her ear. Debbie scratched and scratched until she bled. It was such a wonderful feat wherein the rash had already spread from her face to her upper torso and then her lower. It was as if Debbie was already in the process of decay. And just before she took her last breath, her eyes landed on the makeup kit’s cover with the lettering “POISON IVY”.

“Pill diet, pill diet, if they give you a new pill then you will buy it. If they say to kill yourself, then you will try it. All the makeup in the world, won't make you less insecure. You got weights in your pockets, when you go to the doctor's. Your favorite candy's cotton, that's why all your teeth are rotten. Silly girl with silly boys,” Melanie sang as Debbie tried to scream her last scream. She locked the door before leaving the latter to rot to death.

“What happened? Debs was screaming!,” Laverne rushed towards his sister’s room but Melanie stopped him. “Oh it was nothing. I gave her a makeup kit and she screamed out of excitement. Even told me to let you know, she wouldn’t eat dinner and would sleep the night off for the party you’re planning,” she said. “Oh okay then,” he shrugged and went to play video games.

Soon after dinner, Melanie went to give Laverne some milk and cookies. He ate them happily but coughed up blood afterwards. “Laverne Robertson, basketball jockey, playboy. You broke too many girls’ hearts and yet you act like you don’t know anything. You switch from one relationship to another. Quite astounding, actually, to think that you’re the Mister Dean’s Lister and yet you behave like you’re uneducated,” he locked eyes with Melanie who was smiling angelically as she sang, “Do you like my cookies? They're made just for you. A little bit of sugar, but lots of poison, too.” She locked the door as well and went to tuck little Timmy to bed.

“Read me the story, nanny,” he said. Melanie obliged and even let little Timmy hold the book. The story was about to finish when Timmy yelped, “Nanny! A paper cut!” His index finger was bleeding and his eye welled with tears. “Spoiled little brat,” Melanie went to get a band aid and helped Timmy stop the bleeding but as soon as she got back, he was having a seizure. Melanie then, as evil as she is, sang him a lullaby, “Can't take it anymore, need to put you to bed. Sing you a lullaby where you die at the end.”

Last but not the least was Jam, the baby, who was crying. “Hungry, little cutie pie?,” she said then  sang, “I can’t stand your whining. Where’s your binky now?,” before giving her some milk. Jam sucked and drank the milk wholeheartedly while Melanie sang, “Hush, little baby, drink your spoiled milk. I'm really crazy, need my prescription filled.”

And on that night, the Robertsons’ children died in ways a mother, a nanny, should have done to care for them.

The night of the party, a news report aired through the whole city.

“News Report: The bodies of Debbie, Laverne, Timothy, and Jam Robertson were found at 1818 Roguski Road, all died poison-administered deaths. A note was found on the doorstep by teenagers who were saying that they were going to a party they would never forget but instead, found a note saying: 1, 2, Melatonin is coming for you 3, 4, Baby, won't you lock the door? 5, 6, I'm done with this 7, 8, It's getting late, So close your eyes, sleep for days. Next time you're alone, think twice when you grab the phone. Our deepest condolences to the mother and father of these kids and may we all be careful and vigilant of our surroundings.”

Warning: A psychopathic patient from Ward 004 has also escaped, the facility is again to be put under total lockdown until the Patient 004 as well as 003 has been caught. Patient 003 is of fair complexion with light freckles on both cheeks and ebony hair with wavy locks; her eye color is brown and is of 5”5 composure. Patient 004 is also of light skin tone with dimples on the left cheek; a redhead with blue eyes. He stands 6”8. All camera personnel have been alerted regarding the breach. Notify the nearest security unit in case of sighting.

Hearing the warning being broadcasted throughout the city, he looked at the security picture of a girl who had short blonde hair and chestnut eyes.

“She should die,” he said as he faced the mirror and wore a beanie to hide his red hair. Walking through town was easy. However, avoiding security cameras and units made it difficult to move from one alley to another.

He rode a taxi to 1818 Roguski Road and watched the blonde girl walk out the door and place a note on the doorstep. He sniffed the air and followed the girl. He wanted something.

Her blood.

Her blood smeared across his skin.

Whose blood was it again?

[fictionaryhsam-blog]

Picking Stars from the Sky

A Short Story by Moses Ojera

Inspired by A Hundred Times Over by Alliyah Del Rosario (pyrosphos on Archive of Our Own)

Word of the Piece: threshold

threshold - a point of entry or beginning.

Example: The abandoned golf course was a threshold of their memories for safekeeping.

Genre: Tragedy, Romance

I would pick you again

even if things go wrong

the second time around.

Caleb stood before a tombstone which had become very familiar to him. It was covered with cobwebs and dust indicating that it had been such a long time since someone last visited the place. The words embossed on its façade with a picture of someone dear to him placed next to it never failed to make his heart feel heavy.

It was all sunny and bright, but his feelings were the complete opposite. Today would have been their 5th anniversary, and all he could do was stare at the picture of his lover whose life ended too early. He was once again reminded of the reason why she was there, all cold and lifeless. He was once again reminded of how their lives could have possibly gone if it weren’t for that one circumstance... how it disrupted their plans!

He laid the bouquet of flowers next to the tombstone. It was a vibrant mix of red and yellow which he frankly did not get a good feeling about. She liked roses and sunflowers, and he will continue to leave bunches on her gravestone until plastics of its kind start to rot. But it always reminded him of an event so traumatic that it haunted him in his sleep every night.

He woke up right before the shrill sonance of his alarm clock could even break the silence of his bedroom. He was excited and nervous, to say the least. It was Nielle’s birthday. Not only that, he is proposing to her today. He will be professing his unconditional love to her. The one he would always risk his life for.

“Looks like someone’s overjoyed,” his roommate, Steele, told him out of nowhere, with his eyes still laced with sleep.

“You know very well the reason why,” Caleb stated with a smirk on his face. He just knew that fate was on his side today. At least, that’s what he thought.

“Shouldn’t you be getting ready now, though? You wouldn’t want to keep her waiting, would you?” Steele said as he faced his back to Caleb and making a burrito of himself with his thick comforter, ready to get back to his slumber.

“Yeah, yeah, I will. But Steele… I’m nervous. What if I get the answer I don’t want to hear?” said Caleb.

“Then I’m kicking you out of the dorm. Losers can’t live in this predicament,” Steele answered jokingly, with Caleb throwing his pillow at the former. He faced Caleb once again and said, “But seriously though, I wish you the best of luck. I believe you won’t be needing it, rest assured you’ll be getting that sweet ‘yes’, but it’s better to be sure, right?” he reassured Caleb. He thought about all the possibilities. Anything could happen in just a minute, let alone a day, but it’s imperative to maintain an optimistic view.

Caleb didn’t say anything after that. He knew that Caleb knew what he was thinking. It was a telepathic thing between the two best friends.

On his way to the bathroom, what he saw sitting on his bedside table was the small black box which contained the ring. The ring with the initials “N.C.” carved on its inner rim, and a star embedded on its surface. As much as he would like to stare at it for hours, he would rather see it upon Nielle’s finger tonight.

He felt his cellular phone vibrate against his thigh. He pulled it out to see what was flashed on the screen — it was a text message from his lawyer, saying that they had just won the case. It was a case filed against Nielle’s killer. As soon as he read the last word of the text message, his face broke out with a look of sheer joy. We won the case. He repeatedly tells himself.

He was completely amazed. His mood was uplifted ten-fold. He would celebrate their victory with a few of his closest friends, but right now, all he wanted to share that success with is the person buried beneath whom he loved dearly. It was for her, and he couldn’t have done it for anyone else.

There Caleb was, sat in a quaint coffee shop, waiting for his lover to arrive. He brought a bouquet of roses and sunflowers with him. He is doing it now. He planned to make the place a lot more memorable than it should be. It was his favorite; he often told Steele that it was better than Buckstars. It was also where he and Nielle first met.

He was a regular customer, so he remembered the old faces and figured out the new ones. It didn’t take long for him to see the newly recruited part-time barista for the first time, and he swore that it was a magical moment when Nielle — based on the name tag — asked him, “Top of the morning to you, Sir! What would you like?”

He was too dazed to answer. It was as if his drool was close to the brink of spilling out of his mouth. He wanted to answer “You,” but that would be unethical. He told the barista his favorite drink, their signature Latte Macchiato.

“And what’s the name of this lovely gentleman right here?” Nielle asked playfully.

Caleb swore the room had gone warm. He was flustered, his hands were shaking, and he was pretty sure his cheeks were tainted pink. He tried his best to spit out a “C-C-Caleb,” while stuttering to do so.

He remembered it all too well. It was a good memory. Looking back, they have gone through so much. Look where they are now.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of his ringtone — he only used it for Nielle’s number so he knew when she called. He suddenly got nervous, hoping nothing would actually get in his way this time.

“Hello?” Caleb said in a calm manner.

“Hi, babe! I just got off work and I’m basically stuck here. All the taxi drivers I’ve talked to declined. Could you please fetch me? I’m at the gate of the northwest side,” Nielle said wistfully.

“Alright babe, I’ll be there in a dime,” Caleb said, on his way to his car, placing the bouquet of flowers on the passenger’s seat.

“Okay, I’ll wait for you.” Caleb was about to put his phone down when he heard Nielle speak once more, “Oh, and Caleb?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you. You are my brightest star,”

Along with the sweet roar of the car engine came the rushing feeling in his chest. He had always felt it every time he heard her say those words. She loves me, he thought to himself. At first, he hesitated to believe in this sick, destructive emotion often denoted as love, but Nielle had him change his mind, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

He arrived at the place where Nielle told him to go. He immediately spotted her. She was standing with her back leaning against the cement wall. He sprinted towards her and hugged her tightly.

“Missed me too much?” Nielle said.

“Quit it,” Caleb said, his breath tickling her neck. He soon withdraws from the embrace and said “Let’s go?”, with Nielle nodding and following suit, acknowledging the presence of the bouquet of roses and sunflowers on her seat, which earned Caleb a kiss on his cheek.

They talked about Nielle’s work on their way to the coffee shop. Caleb didn’t really have to know about her boss’ scandal being spread around to the workers in the company, or about the clogged toilet in the bathroom near her floor. Nonetheless, he liked hearing her talk. Even if the absence of substance stained her words, he always wanted to hear her voice which was dripping with milk and honey.

They arrived near the coffee shop, walking towards the place to finally fulfill the plans he laid out which Nielle is naive about.

“So, what do you have for me today?” Nielle asked, teasing Caleb’s sides.

“You’ll know when we get there,” Caleb said, with his arm draping over his lover’s shoulder. Somehow, he felt the black box sitting in his pocket get heavier. He didn’t remember it having much weight. But it reminded him of his primary agenda for the night.

It was quite a peaceful night. Things were going as planned…

but it all happened so fast.

An earsplitting scream shattered the silence lingering the streets. Caleb and Nielle turned their heads to where the sound came from. And they saw it happen.

A man dressed in all black with a mask on was struggling to snatch the woman’s handbag which she had a strong grip on. Soon, the man placed an arm over her neck, choking her to get the prize.

“Nielle, let’s g-,” Caleb said without realizing that she was not beside him anymore. Instead, he found her running towards the conflict, and he knew she was on his way to help the woman.

Caleb’s heart dropped. He wanted to scream, Nielle’s life was at stake, but all he managed to let out was a faint “No.”

He was unable to do anything. His breath was caught up in his lungs. He was only able to watch the scene before him. All he could do was stand and have his heart being torn apart, seeing the risk his lover was taking.

There were bystanders who decided to be witnesses of the situation, uttering comments about how brave the girl was, or how pitiful that it had to go this way. But all Caleb could ever think of was how much he wanted to just grab Nielle and get away from here. He felt anger rush through the course of his veins, but the way he managed not to intervene, he realized…

that he was too late.

Along with a loud gunshot were the screams of the people fleeing from the scene. He saw the culprits escape using the van parked near his car. He saw the woman who nearly got her bag snatched dial the emergency number with trembling hands.

With the crowd giving him a clear look of how it went, what he saw shattered him the most.

Sprawled out upon the cold pavement was Nielle. Her hair was disheveled, her clothes were nearly a mess, the bouquet of flowers long forgotten. A pool of crimson was just behind the gush of her head.

He wanted to scream, to cry, to do anything that showed his despair. Things did not go as planned. It was unfair!

He despised everyone. He despised everyone who witnessed the scene for not doing anything that could have prevented it from happening. He despised the universe for letting Nielle gamble her life for another being.

But most of all, he despised himself.

For just standing there.

For not being able to move an inch.

For being one with the crowd.

For not preventing it from happening.

For not saving Nielle when he had the chance.

Soon, the ambulance came rushing towards them, the paramedics lifting Nielle’s unconscious body. He felt his heart sink. It was the love of his life.

He jumped in the ambulance and sat beside his lover. He took hold of her hand and felt everything and nothing all at once.

He feared the time he won’t be able to grab her hand with his anymore.

The cemetery suddenly started to feel constricted. He wanted to leave already. His thoughts and feelings had dispersed and they were all over the place. He would pick it up to bottle it all up once again, just like what he always did.

Their relationship wasn’t perfect, he admitted. They both had their fair share of mishaps, but it didn’t stop them from finding their way back to each other. But now, he wished that he could go to that direction again, towards Nielle; he felt safe with her. She was his home.

The doctor told Caleb and Nielle’s parents that she was in a critical condition. She was in a state of coma. The bullet grazed the side of her head, and there was a very small chance that she will survive once he undergoes an operation.

He wasn’t a believer of many things. But this is an exception — he believed in them. He believed in Nielle. He believed that Nielle would wake up. He believed that things could go back to how they once were.

He clasped Nielle’s hand with two of his, silently asking all the gods that exist to give him the strength and guidance he needed to overcome this challenge.

He pulled out the black box, getting the precious ring he had been dying to give to the person lying in front of him. He then slipped it through Nielle’s finger.

“So when you wake up, you will still remember me somehow. Even by heart,” Caleb said as he shed more tears that night. He hoped this pain will all end soon.

On his way home, he passed by an abandoned golf course. Their abandoned golf course. The area was still the same as how it looked like the last time they both went there. It was a witness of their limerence, a threshold of their memories for safekeeping. It was all theirs to remember.

They were sprawled out on the vast grounds of an abandoned golf course to which they named as their happy place. They got tired from all the world’s problems, so they decided to meet up and do something spontaneous, and here they were.

It was nighttime. The sky was completely filled with every star there was, splashing cold colors all throughout the expanse of their line of sight.

“Hey, that’s Orion!” Nielle shrieked as she stared at what seemed like a constellation.

Caleb almost forgot that she was an Astronomy major. She really loved space, and all the possibilities there might be. He was only there to watch her do the things she loved.

“Where?” Caleb asked as he was struggling to find the constellation.

“Look at my finger. I’m gonna trace it!” Nielle said as she traced the pattern of the Orion.

“Well, I see it now. It looks like an outline of Mike Wazowski successfully scaring a sleeping kid,” Caleb said jokingly.

Nielle let out a hearty chuckle, the one that is real and genuine. One that signifies happiness. One that shows fondness.

Nielle looked at Caleb who laid beside her, and saw that she was with the brightest star she could ever be with.

“You know… I’m genuinely curious as to why you picked Astronomy, out of all the things you love doing,” said Caleb while looking at her.

“I just… love space and stars and planets and all of those things. It makes me believe there is more to life than just what we are able to see or touch,” Nielle said as she faced upwards to look at the stars, “And, since I love poetry too, I love using the stars and the sky as metaphors. It just makes me feel things,” Nielle said fondly.

“So, I take it that you have already written some lines, hm? Who are they dedicated to?” Caleb asked, with a look of concern and interest.

“You.” Nielle said with a smile on her face.

“Really? Show me some lines,” said Caleb.

Nielle hesitated at first, but gave in later on due to Caleb’s pleas. “I have loved the stars too fondly to be afraid of the night,” she said with a pleased tone.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Caleb asked. He wasn’t very good at reading between the lines.

“The stars signify the ones I love. The night signifies life. My loved ones help me survive each day. They make each day worth living for. And you... you are one of them. You are my brightest star,” Nielle said finally.

It was silent for a moment. They both knew Caleb was digesting what had just been said, but he managed to respond perfectly.

“I love you too,” Caleb said, with his cheeks tinted pink.

As the night went on, a few kisses were shared. They both hoped this would go on forever, even if the night was still young.

It was starting to get dark, but he decided to do what they usually did in the abandoned golf course. He laid down on the exact same spot he was sprawled out on that day. He took a good look of the sky — his line of sight was filled with stars, and to describe it as fascinating was an understatement.

Coincidentally, the universe decided to go along with him since he saw yet again the Orion, the Mike Wazowski constellation. It was as if he was reliving the moment when Nielle was still here. It was as if fate decided to give him one last chance to have things flow according to his plans.

I have loved the stars too fondly to be afraid of the night, he thought to himself. He remembered it with how she said those words.

And in reply, he stated,

“I love you, too.”

I would pick all the stars from the sky

if it means getting to hold you

one last time.