Mystery
HAREM
Harem “The metric of success is lives saved, kids who aren’t crippled.” -Bill Gates “2011” The year was 2035, a faint cry from the distant past of 20-30 years ago. The sky was still blue, the grass was still green, the stars still shined in the deep dark web of space. Life was normal on the surface; but at the depths of the unseen, an operation was taking place that only showed it self when it knocked at your door.
By Cortland Jones3 years ago in Fiction
Rain's Reign
“BREAKFAST TIME!” I wake from my slumber at the sound of those words, welcoming the ounce of gratification that food will bring me. I peel my skin away from the cool metal bar of my jail cell and try to rub away the stiffness in my neck. My eyes adjust to the sunlight shining in from the long rectangular window that spans the ceiling hallway between the cells on both sides. It’s the only source of light in this prison. I listen to the approaching footsteps that will bring me my meal and try, unsuccessfully as always, to tune out all the other voices around me.
By Khadija Malik3 years ago in Fiction
Taken
An orphaned world, abandoned by the luck of man, love, and money. Gone. To believe a word that created war and famine over these insidious things ever existed is as far-fetched as I will make it sound. The last day was clear and sunny; I remember that much. I felt a cold chill and looked down to see my ice cream begin to melt, dripping away from my hand onto my red-colored toenails; what a lovely color. I can almost picture it again. I try to before my memory escapes me and leaves me orphaned as well. The laughter of children, the crashing of waves, the ring on my finger. I had it all, had. The president was killed first, of course, an awful cliche. The capital was next, and like a simple bowling game, they were all gone in one blow. Nobody knew who they were, only that they were flesh and blood like us. Humans? Friends? not quite. They took our water and our food and our children, no more laughter. The world is at peace now; we no longer fight over trivial things, no more waiting hours in grocery lines, no more petty fights over parking spaces; everything is equal now. Those few who still believed their old world could be restored were taken away and never seen again. The elderly, too, served their function in our society; you are no longer viable after 60. For as long as the old world lived, reproduction was the goal; that is no longer our objective. Instead, we strive to build peace; that is why he is here. We do not know his name; it is not important; he watches. The days were glorious, bright, and peaceful, no more chaos, no more innocents dying, or so I thought.
By Cynthia Melchor3 years ago in Fiction
The Others
His sleep was interrupted by something crawling on his leg. With a swift and controlled motion Adrik smacked his thigh, picked up the half-dead beetle and threw it into his mouth. Crunch crunch, gulp. He felt its textured skin scratching the tough lining of his throat. Nice morning snack, he thought. His sense of touch has gotten so good that he didn't have to see to know exactly where on his body the insects crawled before they landed in his stomach. He let out a loud hraaaaaaarrhh type yawn while stretching his long scrawny arms enough so they don't slam against the walls. Today was the big day, he shivered with a mix of fear and excitement. The air was dusty, but it didn't seem to bother his nostrils, and it was so dark that he couldn't see the backs of his worn out feet. Oftentimes he wondered if his eyelids were open or closed because either way it was the same thing.
By Zahira Tasabehji3 years ago in Fiction
Finding Her
The smell of their charred remains penetrated his sweaty bandana. A muffled coughing pierced the silence about 50 feet away and he pulled the thin material taut on his face, his sunken cheeks numbing from the tightness of it. He wondered if this man was choking from the smell of burnt flesh or from the Great Disease that wiped out half of the population.
By Kayla Johnson3 years ago in Fiction
The Light After The Fire
I think I speak for the entire human race - at least for those of us that remain anyway - when I say that we’d all rather jump back in time to when COVID-19 became a global pandemic in March of 2020. One could even compare it to heaven - as opposed to the brutish hell in which we live today.
By Dov Arlauskas 3 years ago in Fiction
the heart-shaped locket that gave me hope.
I used to look at the less fortunate, and think, 'How do you even get there? Just work hard and you will get what you want!'. I used to ignore the fact that society cast them out like rats, having to thrive in putrid, piss-ridden conditions, soiled in their own defecation and humiliated by people forcing cameras in their faces to record how they offer them food as if it should not be a human right for any human to be able to eat anyway... we were convinced to see ourselves as morally better than the suffering, in order to focus on our own desires, and advantage the system put in place for us to survive in. You need to lack empathy, to be societally successful.
By Ellie Zalar3 years ago in Fiction
You Find A Letter...
"To my dearest Whomever-It-May-Concern, I am dying. No, to put it more accurately, I am giving up my immortality. I am leaving this world we built. No one will know where I have gone, and since I will no longer be filling my production quota, they will not bother to look for me. I will be dead to the world. No matter, for this world is dead to me.
By Sylvani Starchild-St.Clair3 years ago in Fiction