story
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Mila stepped over the crossing and into the woods. She walked until the path behind her was erased by the drooping willows and reaching ferns. Every step taking her farther away from the past. Anyone who ventured deep into these woods, were never found again. The townspeople chose to believe it was haunted by a
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It was just another family tradition. Although, one may say, a bit unusual. Repeated year after year, for as long back as anyone can remember, our family has always fed Aunt Martha. At least that is what we called her. She wasn’t really an Aunt at all – in fact she wasn’t even human. Aunt
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Why do ghost stories still scare me? I know they aren’t real. Still, I psych myself out at the most random moments. For instance, I’ll simply be washing my hands in the bathroom. Then from the corner of my eye, I could have sworn I saw the shower curtain move. I stare at it hard,
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It was a shabby apartment, but that isn’t why I left him. I looked around our small studio and stared at the once vibrant paisley wallpaper. Now faded and torn, it exposed a dirty green wall that probably once lit up this room with the sunlight. I imagine it became dull quite quickly. I looked
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Her mother hired me. She was a put-together woman- successful, polished, proper and kind. I met the Father once. He seemed sweet but then again, I only saw him that one time. I approached their massive and elegant house the first day, looking for the side door they said I could enter. Their Airbnb guests
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Starting off spooky season with one of my favorites! This is based on a dream I had when I was younger and had teddy bears. I don’t think I had any after this. Let me know what you think in the comments below the post!
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She wanders through the halls of her abandoned family home, most of it resembling remains of the catacombs. Except for the portraits, as they still hang. Sneaking secret glances, she feels the first pang. They glare as though they know what she’s done. Of course they do! They had known before it begun. Steadying her
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What do you see when you look out the window? I used to look out a window when I was younger, Easily inspired to write lovely poems and adventurous stories. I looked out my bedroom window on Winona Street. I would climb out and sit on the roof, Observing those that casually walked
Simply Kayla 