My Own Originality

Mainly short stories. Mainly for my English class. Mainly 300-600 words. Now let's get into it.

[myownoriginality]

My Closet Door

The sound of my closet door creaking open woke me up. I glance at the clock at the side of my bed. Seven o’ two blinks back at me. I pull the covers down and crane my neck to look across the room. The door to my closet is opened, just a crack. I shrug and rest my head on my pillow again, deducing that it was just my imagination.

Seconds later, the door creaks again. I sigh and push myself up into a sitting position. I look at my closet, and my pulse quickens. Peeking out from behind the door, is a face drained of any color. It belongs to a girl, but I can only figure that from the long, thin, and stringy hair that hangs limply down her back. Her face is thin and her cheek bones look as if they are going to rip through her flesh.

She has a small, bony finger wrapped around the door handle, and it’s almost as if she is hanging as opposed to standing. She catches my gaze, and her cracked lips move slightly, as if trying to say something, but nothing comes out.

I’m frozen in my bed, not knowing what to do. I watched as she lets a tiny foot emerge. She takes a cautious step out of the closet before stepping with the other foot. I stare in both wonder and fear as she rests her hands on the floor. She begins to take steps closer to my bed, on all four, like an animal in the wild.

As she comes closer, I shrink back into my pillows, in hopes that they may engulf me. When she manages to reach the end of my bed, she crouches there and grasps the blanket tightly in her frail fingers. She peeks up over the edge, watching me intently.

Then, before I knew what was happening, she changed. He face grew longer, sharper, her teeth now protruding from her mouth in the shape of dangerous fangs. Her limps stretch and become thinner, if that was even possible. Her eyes, which were once dull gray, were now completely black, like an black hole that could suck you in. Her fingernails, that were clutching my blanket, were now long, more like claws than nails.

She pushed herself up, sending her flying onto my bed and directly up to me. Her hands grabbed around the lower portion of my face, covering my mouth. She leaned in close, holding my head in place, as she brought her nose closer to me. She sniffed quickly and immediately began snorting wildly, as if she was an animal who had smelled something foul.

But whatever smell she disagreed with, did not deter her. She opened her mouth in a growl, baring her sharp fang-like teeth. I tried to scream, I tried flailing my limbs in an attempt to break free, but it was all futile. All I remember was her fangs baring closer and closer, before everything went dark and the only sound I could hear is my closet door creaking.

My eyes snapped open when I heard the creaking of my closet door. I glanced over at my clock. Seven o’ one. I watched as the numbers switched. Seven o’ two. Then my closet door creaked again.

[myownoriginality]

Neverland

My mother had told me all the stories about this magical place called Neverland. Full of glorious sights and beautiful creatures. I dreamed of going to this world. Every night, I would lean out my window and watch the sky, more specifically the stars. And not just any stars, but two in particular.

Two stars that we right next to each other. I watched them and planned how I would manage to get to Neverland. “Second star to the right, and straight on ‘till morning,” I would quietly murmur to myself as I watched the stars twinkle.

That was a year ago, and I had since, grown up significantly. But I believe. No matter how old I got, no one could ever deter my belief for Neverland, or my overwhelming want to go there myself one day.

That’s why, the night I awoke in the middle of the night, to see a mysterious young boy standing in my window, staring intently at me with mossy green eyes. His lips curled into a devilish smirk as he pushed off my window sill and flew towards me, hovering a mere inches over my bed.

“You wanna go to Neverland?” he asked bluntly. I blinked a few times, trying to decipher whether or not this was just a dream, or actual reality.

Eventually I realized, this was real, and this boy above me was actually asking me if I wanted to go the Neverland. The place I had dreamed about since I was young. I nodded excitedly, and his smirk grew to a grin. He grabbed my hand and pulled me up, not giving a chance to register what was happening.

The next thing I knew, we were outside, flying over the streets of London. We flew up and up towards the second star, and soon, all I could see was a kaleidoscope of colors, swirling around me. Not long after, the colors disappeared and were replaced with the sight of an island in the middle of an endless sea, but it didn’t look like the world I’d heard so much about.

This mysterious boy held my hand as he led me around the island, showing me the sights. But I didn’t like what I was seeing. Mermaid Lagoon was desolate, abandoned. The water had browned and any plant life that had once thrived there was long gone.

The Indian Village was next. There were two Indians left. They looked bony and pale, as if they hadn’t eaten in days or maybe even weeks. On top of that, they both looked sickly ill, almost green in the face. All the teepees had long been destroyed.

Finally he brought me to the tree trunk, the one that was meant to lead me to the hideout of the Lost Boys and Peter Pan. But the tree was wilted and dead. The mysterious boy threw me down the trunk and slid into the hideout, landing roughly on the hard, stone ground. The smell was repulsive and if that wasn’t bad enough on it’s own, then the sight that was in front of me was.

Corpses hung from the ceiling, hanging upside down, their arms hanging limp, some of their fingertips brushing the ground. There were mermaid, Indians and Lost Boys. All long gone to the other side.

I went to let out a scream, but the mysterious boy covered my mouth before anything could escape. “Isn’t this what you always wanted? Now you can stay here, forever.”

[myownoriginality]

Infected

“What are we doing here?” he mumbles quietly. His voice is barely above a whisper.

The girl next to him scratches as her arm. “We’re infected,” she breathed. She scratched harder.

“With what?”

She shrugged and moved to scratch her other arm. “It contagious,” she offers.

“What is?”

She shrugs again. He growls and unconsciously starts scratching at his own arm. There are twelve of them in the room. All of them don white shirts and pants, all of their feet bare against the cold white tile. The walls are white too, there is no color, and it is maddening.

They all stare blankly at the ground, some hanging their heads lower, shielding their eyes. The girl next to him is one of them. He tangled and dirty blonde hair hands like a veil over her face. She continues to scratch, switching now, from arm to arm.

A door he didn’t know existed opened. A man with a mask enters, he holds a medical bag in one hand as he uses the other to close the door behind him. He goes to the person nearest to the door. He kneels down and lifts their head. This person had their head held higher. He opens his medical bag and preforms a checkup on him.

The masked man then stand and proceeds to the next person. This on has her head hung lower. He kneels again and puts a finger under her chin, he raises her head and, after a quick inspection, lowers it back down and moves on.

He watches the man goes from person to person, noting that those who hung their heads lower, were not subjected to a checkup. Soon it was his turn. It was painless and was over quickly. The girl next to him did not receive one.

The man in the mask left, closing the door quickly behind him.

“Why did some people not get a checkup?” he asks the girl, praying for some type of answer.

“Because we’ve already lost against it.”

“Against what?”

She raises her head and her hair falls back. She is horribly pale and has spider veins around her forehead. Her eyes are closed as she sucks in a deep breath. Finally she turns to him and slowly opens her eyes, revealing pure black. There is no color. Her iris and sclera are completely black, blending with pupil.

“We’ve already lost against the infection,” she murmurs.

There is a sudden rustling around the room. He notices that all the patients with low hanging heads are now staring at him. All of their eyes are black.

“There’s no cure,” one boy mumbles from across the room.

“Meaning it’s only a matter of time,” the girl says. She points out the way he’s scratching at his arm. “That’s just the first symptom.”

“It only gets worse,” everyone in the room stated simultaneously.

[myownoriginality]

Siren

She has a voice that makes him shiver, even as she calls for help. He leans over the side of the ship, staring intently as he tries to catch a glimpse of the girl. She’s being pushed under by the violent waves, almost as if they were trying to pull her down to the dark depths of the ocean. He manages to locate her murky black hair and porcelain white skin, against the dark sea.

He searches furiously for a flotation device, or anything he can use to save the poor girl. Once he has a life preserver secured in his grasp, he hurls it overboard. He tries to scream at her to take hold, but his voice is lost with the wind.

Soon, she somehow manages to find the preserver. She wraps her arms tightly around it, holding on for dear life, as he pulls it — and her — back to the ship. He stops when he sees dripping, shivering arms reach over the side and rushes forward to her aid. He hoists her up and helps her to sit on the railing. His eyes go wide.

In place of legs, is a tail. A long cobalt blue, scaly, and slimy tail. There are two fins on her hips, and a long caudal fin that trails down. He watches as she moves the tail, slapping it against the side of the boat.

“It’s impolite to stare,” she says, her voice smooth and solid. Not what he had expected.

“I am very sorry Miss. I have never seen a mermaid before.”

He’d heard the tales. His mother had always told them to his sister. She’d told her stories about beautiful creatures with majestic tails and long silky hair. How they swam around in the ocean, collecting sea shells and talking to other sea creatures, like whales and crabs.

“Mermaid,” she muttered, almost as if she was testing the word. “Is not the word I would use.”

“Then what word would you prefer?” He leaned against the railing and watched as she ran her fingers delicately over her scales.

She giggled, and it sounded like a full symphony. She curled her finger, gesturing for him to move in closer. He obliged, and slid along the railing. She repeated the gesture and he repeated his movements, until he was only a few mere inches aways from her. Her faded pink lips curled into a dangerous smile as she moved so her mouth was next to his ear.

“Siren.”

And with that word, she grabbed ahold of him, and leaned towards the ocean. She fell, with him wrapped tightly in her arms. He screamed as they plummeted towards the icy sea and, before he knew it, the salty water enveloped them.

He trashed and flailed his arms and legs in a desperate attempt to free himself from this Siren’s clutches. She tightened her grip and flipped her tail, sending them farther underwater. He let out a scream as he kept flailing, keeping his eyes on the glow of the moon that was still barely visible.

With a few more flips of her tail, the glow began to dim, and his eyelids grew heavy. He felt his mind go blank. His eyelids slowly lowered, and the last thing he remembered, was her heavenly voice as she sang a song. A song that he would have enjoyed, had it not been about him dying.

[myownoriginality]

He Broke His Promises

He had told me over and over again that he was always going to be there. He said he would always be able to protect me. But now I realize, that he was nothing but a liar. Now I stood in the cemetery watching the crowd as they sulked around his casket. They all took turns placing roses atop the polished wood and stepping back in line. I couldn’t believe how pathetic they all were, mourning a liar, who broke so many promises.

Life had been so much better just last week. I had been talking to him on the phone as he was driving home from work. Then the sound of tires screeching against asphalt and crushing metal filled my ear. The phone had easily slipped from my fingertips, and even as it fell to the linoleum floor, I could still hear everything.

I had sat on the couch, numb and frozen, until there was a knock at my front door. Outside stood a cop, and he only had one thing to say. “Your husband was killed in a car crash.” I had been expected it, but that hadn’t made it any easier to hear. But I wasn’t sad about his death, no, not at all, I was furious. I had been through so much in my life but when I had met him, he turned it all around. He promised to protect me and to always be there for me. And now he was gone, forever. He broke his promises.

I refused to go any closer, so instead I was leaning against a tree, watching as the crowd slowly dispersed, and people went to return to their everyday lives. Finally the casket wasn’t blocked from my view and I could watch as they lowered it, allowing him to rot underground for eternity.

“Are you really still mad at him?” I turned my head, surprised to see his sister, Pamela, fixing me with a stern glare while her arms were crossed across her chest.

Sighing, I turned back to look at where his casket had been just moments ago. “He broke his promises.”

She groaned. “It’s not like he did it on purpose. He didn’t choose to get in that crash.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Pamela was the last person I wanted to talk to right now, especially when she was obviously on his side. “When you make a promise, you’re entitled to keep it. No matter what.”

Then, out of no where, my cheek started to burn. It took me a moment to register that Pamela had snapped and slapped me. I watched her as she held back tears, both of her hands clenched tightly.

“You’re just being selfish! You have no right to be angry with him, he didn’t want to die, he had not control over it!” She yelled.

She spun on her heel and stomped away. I watched my eighteen year old sister-in-law stormed off towards the entrance to the cemetery. My cheek still burned, but it was subsiding now. I tore my eyes away from Pamela and started walking. I forced myself to approach his grave. I wouldn’t be selfish if I at least did that.

The stone was freshly polished, obviously brand new. It hadn’t been exposed to the elements, yet. I kneeled down to get a better look, glaring at the words in front of me. Here lies Joshua Parker, loving son, brother, and husband.

“You forgot liar,” I mumbled before standing up and leaving him behind. Forever.