YESSIR Just A Little Bit Haunted

[Just A Little Bit Haunted]

YESSIR

“Jamie, my arms are getting tired. Could you hold my candy bag for me?” Oliver said. It was October 31st, and I was out Trick-or-Treating with my best friend Oliver. I was a year older than him. I was in fifth grade and he was in fourth. I only know him because we are in a split class together at school. “Come on Oliver, we are almost done Trick-or-Treating. Only a few more houses then we finish the whole block!” I said, trying to get him excited. The only houses we have left are Ms. Gremlys’ house, Sovas’ house, and a big house that looks abandoned. Some other kids say it’s haunted, but I don’t think that’s true. Those kids are always making up stories for attention. We arrive at Ms. Gremlys’ house. Ms. Gremly is a grumpy old woman who has never left her house in years. I knock on Ms. Gremlys’ door. Oliver hides behind me. “Oliver, you’re such a scaredy cat!” As soon as I say that, Ms. Gremly opens her door and a abby cat comes running out. “MARU, GET BACK HERE NOW!” yells Ms. Gremly, “Ugh, whatever. What do you kids want?” “Uhhhh. Happy Halloween?” I said with a nervous voice. “Do you idiots want something or what?” she said, talking back to us. She looks at our candy bags then at us then the candy bag then back at us. “Oh, you want me to put something in your bag? Well, here you go. Now leave before I call the police.” She puts one thing in each bag. I got a razor with a floral design on it and Oliver got a small pack of mint gum. “Aww man, I would be happy about this gum if I could have it,” Oliver said madly. Oliver has braces and he’s not proud of them. He is 145

really mad that he has braces because a bunch of the kids at school think he is a so-called “nerd” and now that he has braces, well, you get the idea. He got braces because he had an overbite but he thinks his teeth were fine. We leave Ms. Gremlys’ house and start to walk to Sovas’ house. Sova is one of our best friends but she doesn’t celebrate Halloween so we told her that we would come over to say hi. We arrive at her house and she opens the door with a mad face. “What do you want?” she asked, annoyed. “Uhhh. It’s me and Oliver. You asked us to come over…” “OH it’s just you, sorry, we have been getting so many, uhhh what do you call it again?” she asked. “Trick-or-Treaters?” “Yeah, that.” “Anyways, you wanna come in?” Sova asked, “It’s really cold outside.” “Sure!” I said, “Come on Oliver.” We walk into Sova’s house and greet her parents. She invites us to sit on the couch. “So, are you ready for the math test tomorrow?” Sova

asked.

“Wait, we have a test tomorrow?!” I said surprised. “Yeah.” Oliver said, “Don’t you remember? I texted you asking if you want to come over to study but you didn’t answer.” I pull out my phone and see the text. “Uhhh… Oops,” I said, embarrassed. “Come on dude, you have got to get better at checking your texts,” Oliver said. “Yeah, I text you all the time and you never answer,” Sova agreed. “Uhh, Oliver and I should go now, sorry Sova,” I said as I tried to change the subject. “Wait what?” Oliver questioned, confused. I grab Oliver’s arm and pull him out the door. “Sorry, Sova!” I said in a fast paced voice. “Uhh bye?” Sova said, confused. I shut the door and Oliver and I started walking to the final house.

“This is it, what the other kids say is the haunted house!” I said excitedly. “Umm, I’m not so sure if we should knock,” Oliver said. “Come on Oliver, don’t be such a baby,” I said walking up to the door. I started to get a little bit nervous, and when I start to get nervous I say things to distract me. “Wow, this is a really old door handle. Who would keep this old thing?” I said as I chuckled nervously, “It’s just a little haunted.” I knock on the door. The door slowly creaked open and what I saw was really old, like, medieval old. Oliver and I walk in slowly. I looked at this statue and it was in a battle pose. I look away at all of the old torches that were almost burnt out. “AAAHHH!!!!” Oliver screamed. “ARE YOU OKAY?!” I asked. I was scared. “T-t-the..” Oliver muttered. “THE WHAT?!” I yelled. “THE STATUE!” Oliver yelled. I look at the statue and Oliver and I scream in horror. The statue had moved their position in a 31.70 degree angle. The Dab.

DUN! DUN! DUN!

The End.

lunar eclipse

[Coins] Ai Hua

Let me drone on forth As a sand traveler would Stepping upon fine glass My breath will become shallow on this vast land Throat rugged and raw Tongue bright rouge Iron coating my taste buds

But I will walk Peacefully while vultures circle me in their murderous waltz As if my half dead heart called out to their song

A song where villages laugh at a stumbling merchant Adorned in blue and gold Foreign emerald eyes piercing their shops Calloused hands reaching oh so out Offering new

As a song overpowered my own Echoing behind like a melody Against my harmony Filled with lovers looking away Fellows falling into graves Souls souring at my indifference I have droned on forth Since the sunset years ago

Seen planes of crooked ruins Forests a blaze in silence And kings who gaze with malice

Queens who stare in spite…

I have droned on forth

Leaving my heart behind For coins staining my fingers With the scent of blood

I have droned on forth With a name

My name known by theys, hims, and hers Youths, wise, and witless The pricks of wealth And the proud in poverty

I drone forth with this name

One now connected to me Merchant with stained hands And a shattered harmony heart

A name I sparingly utter even though it was given to me with love Given to me with emerald eyes and a smile A smile I saw for the last time behind a setting sun

Letting the odd letters fall off the tip of my tongue and onto my lips Only for few fellows who listen well

A name that I carry as a reminder To those who dare cross me And to myself

For blood stained coins will be the death of me And the cause for many others

[Blue]

Blue

Blue is the color of the sky where the sun spends most of its time lighting up our world and where the moon takes over late at night to darken our world so we can sleep

Anonymous

Blue the color of the ocean The color of the deep blue sea the color that the moon reflects off of on late summer nights The sea that smells of salt water No matter what time of year you’re there

Blue is the color of the ice cold water that we drink every single day

Blue is the color of blueberries The delectable sweet berries that are put in pies and muffins and many other sweet treats

Blue the color of the rain On those days where it’s pouring outside And the strongest sound is the pitter patter of the rain hitting your umbrella

Blue the color right outside your window late at night when you’re trying to fall asleep The last thing you see is blue

Blue is everywhere You’ll see it if you pay attention

[demeter]

anonymous

Ever since Demeter was little, she had been creepily obsessed with nature. The townsfolk thought it was ironic, her name was Demeter after all. When her parents had named her, they didn’t think twice of how using a goddess’s name on a child was discouraged and forbidden. They say the god whose name was stolen sought out vengeance-- either that or they possessed the child with amused smirks. Her parents always gossiped to each other behind her back about her seemingly mundane obsession, “Oh,” Her mother would say, “Don’t you think it’s odd that Demeter spends so much time outside?” “Yes,” Her father would reply, ruffling his hair, “The village folk says she skips school just to stare at the flowers right outside the cathedral doors.” The gossip turned less into quiet whispering and more into yelling matches with frequent lectures. It started when Demeter brought home a decapitated bunny. In her right hand was the bunny’s head, held by its ears. Dull eyes faced the ground as the previously fluffy hair was now matted in dirt and blood. The body was split off from the head and was still bleeding, letting small droplets of red liquid to hit the wooden, polished floor. The most disturbing thing about the whole situation, however, was that Demeter was smiling. There was a demonic look in her eyes, and she smiled and tilted her head at her parents, who looked at her in pure horror as she said, “Mom, Dad, look what I did!” They sent Demeter to the local priest after that incident and begged him to fix their demon child. He stared tight lipped at the girl with dirty red hair and hellish eyes. A bead of sweat dribbled from his cheek to his chin and he glanced warily at her parents. He gulped.

“Well-” He cleared his throat, “What did she do? Are there any concerns?” Demeter’s parents stared deep into his pupils before they said, “Look on her arm. There’s a mark.” And so the priest looked at Demeter’s left arm and a small gasp slipped through. His eyes bulged and he immediately stumbled away. “A demon’s child,” he breathed. The child smiled and covered her goddess mark. It was pure blood red that spread like veins across her arm, and little flowers covered it. The crimson roses seemed embedded into skin, and it was obvious something satanic had taken its claws deep in this child. Weak and cowardly, the priest shunned the child and her parents from the cathedral. That was the worst mistake the town could’ve made. Within the next couple of years, bad omens started to befall the small town and its large cathedral. Sicknesses and illnesses started spreading like wildfire, infecting the old and elderly. Red vines started mysteriously growing around, with crimson blossoms decorating the long squid plant. Rumors spread faster than disease about Demeter, and she was promptly kicked out by force for witchcraft. The priest and parents had watched that day as she was shunned by the crowd, and into the forest. They laughed. “Go join your kind, you freak!” they hollered. “Bye, nature freak!” “Nobody liked you anyways!” Demeter smiled during this, now a ripe sixteen year old. Her spiked teeth shone as she vanished into the forest, infecting the land with her veiny arms. She was the vines, the vines were her. Her skin was the velvety ground and the ground was her grotesque grey skin. The town would live to regret their choices, Demeter swore it.

[my nightmare]

anonymous

I sat on the couch, alone. It was around 6 AM. But it was pitch black outside. The sun wasn’t up yet. And my only source of light was some crummy lamp. I was just sitting there, watching the TV in the dark. It seemed normal at first glance. But it wasn’t. My stuff kept getting moved around. But I wasn’t the one moving them. My shoes disappeared. So did my charger. And the case on my phone kept coming on and off, on and off. I freaked out. So, I grabbed my things and started to go upstairs. But as I was walking out, I decided to turn around. I don’t know why, but I did. I had some sort of gut feeling. And when I turned around, I saw a man behind the couch. A man I had not seen before. A man that did not live in my house. And yet, here he was. He was sitting in a rocking chair. He held a newspaper in front of his face, but slowly lowered it when I saw him. He had bright blue eyes. He had a piercing smile. His teeth were slightly yellowed. The smile stretched across his whole face. He looked like the Cheshire Cat. He had thick black glasses. He was balding, but the hair he had left was brown. He was wearing a green sweater vest over a white button up and khakis. In the dream, I didn’t recognize him, but as I look back on it, I know I’ve seen him somewhere. I just don’t know where. Our brains don’t just create new faces. Every person we see in our dreams is someone that we’ve seen before. So where have I seen this man? I think I saw him on some sort of sitcom. How could a character meant to bring joy and laughter turn into something so disturbing? You know when you read a book and something bad happens to the main character and they say they can’t scream? That’s what this was like. Usually whenever I read something like that in a book, I get sort of annoyed with the character. I would wonder why the character can’t just scream. How could they be in that much shock? Just scream. But now I under-

stand. I was paralyzed with fear. I couldn’t scream. I couldn’t run. I could only stand there. My breath grew faster and heavier. I tried to scream, but nothing came out. I stared at the man and he stared back at me. He opened his mouth, and what came out of it wasn’t human. He sounded like an animal crying out in pain. Maybe not even an animal. Maybe an alien. But it was loud. So, so loud. Loud enough to wake me up. I sat up in my bed. My breathing was still fast and my heart was racing. I looked around. My cats were all staring at me. I felt a small sense of relief. But I was still terrified. I’m glad my cats were there. They gave me a feeling of relief. But I still felt really uneasy. I started to cry. I wanted my mom. But I was too scared to move out of my bed and I didn’t want to bother her. So all I could do was cry. My only comfort was my cats, but they all jumped off my bed and left. That made me cry more. At least the lights in my room were on. I really don’t know what I would have done if the lights had been off. I didn’t want to go to sleep in case I had another nightmare, but I didn’t want to stay awake because I was afraid of that man coming back. So I just cried. I hugged my stuffed pig named Charlie. I hugged him tight. His fur soaked up all of my tears. There were a lot of them. I couldn’t stop crying. I felt like I would be crying all night. But eventually, I cried myself back to sleep.

[So tired]

Anonymous

So tired.

My enervated brain crawls up to his sleepy little desk and manages to scribble down a note or two to tell my muscles. With an exhausted exhale, he drops the message into the nervous system. There’s not much traffic but the signal drives slow, like a weary old drunkard on a quiet night in a quiet town, drifting a few miles an hour all alone on the side of the road.

So tired.

The muscles try to pick something up: a shock, a pulse that tells them to tap my face or give my eyelids everything they’ve got to pry themselves open. What does coffee taste like again? I can’t remember, the idea of anything or anyone being able to stimulate my barely animated corpse seems foreign.

So SO tired.

Little men with hardhats and bright vests drag down the big blue beaten bags below my eyes lethargically pulling their grabber claws and yellow vehicles which beep sweet nursery rhymes of soft enchantment.

So SO…so…........so.......................…zzz