Prompt #10

The Prompt: “I never promised that life would be happy. All I promised was that you would never die.”

She stared at him impassively. She no longer cried. All the pain she felt and he had taken away her tears. Taken away her everything. “Death would be a blessing now,” she said, staring just past his shoulder. She never had the courage to speak frankly to his face. Eye contact with those bottomless pits left her too sick and terrified to continue.

He laughed cruelly and reached out with one long finger to run along her cheek. Shila stood still, refusing to flinch away from his touch. “A blessing?” He let out a high pitched laugh and she couldn’t stand it anymore, she had to move away.

Shila took a step back, her arms raised for protection. They would do no good if he chose to hurt her, but it was instinctual. “You tricked me, lied to me.”

“I never lied,” he said almost playfully. Even though she wasn’t looking, Shila knew he was grinning at her. They’d had this conversation before. “Would you like to reread the contract? You’ll find that I’ve broken none of the clauses, and in fact forgiven you the few times you did.”

She ignored this. “I thought you were here to help!” Emotion broke in her voice and that surprised even herself. She’d grown cold in the years since their agreement, since she signed the contract in her own blood.

“I don’t help anyone but myself,” he said. “You know this.”

She knew it now. If there was one thing Shila could do, she’d go back in time. Go back to when she was fifteen and slicing open her arm to sign the contract in blood. She’d tell herself how things would end up, how she was ruining her life with that one signature.

It was a stupid desire though. Even if she managed to find her younger self, nothing would change. She hadn’t listened to anyone when she was fifteen and hurting. A future version of herself wouldn’t have had any more luck than her peers or mentors, the people who at one point considered her a friend.

She was too wrapped up in her own personal drama and hatred of the world to take notice of anyone else’s thoughts or feelings. Which was how he had found her. He had preyed upon her weakness, offered her a way out and a way to hurt people who had hurt her.

But he ended up being the one who had hurt her the most.

Shila’s form grew still as she breathed shallowly. This time she raised her eyes to meet the holes where his eyes should have been. Those oceans of darkness stared back at her unblinking. “I trusted you,” she said, her voice hardly louder than a whisper. “I trusted you and you betrayed me.”

“Darling,” he said, his voice a slow drawl. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you trusting the devil was a dangerous thing to do?”

Prompt #9

The Prompt: All you ever need to know in life: don’t get caught.

It was this Reya reminded herself as she passed by the baker’s stand in the market place. There were too many guards around, one of them would spot her for sure. She couldn’t risk even grabbing a single loaf or roll. One of them would see.

She passed by, basket tucked under her arm and head ducked low. It wouldn’t do for one of them to see her. Being recognized would lead to being caught. Hardly anyone looked twice at a small ten year old walking the streets, but get too close to a cart and they’d notice for sure. Being branded a thief would get her arrested.

Don’t get caught.

Reya dumped the rocks out of her basket when she returned to her family’s small home. Her mother was out as she often was, even at this early hour of the morning and Reya turned to her two younger siblings who were huddled in the corner.

Asa, still only four, was in her bedclothes from the night before. Claro who was two years older had managed to dress himself, but the shirt was too large. Hanging down past his knees it looked more like a dress than anything else.

Reya sighed as she looked at the two of them. They were all small for their ages, underfed and used to looking after themselves. “Didya get somethin’ fer us?” Claro asked, eyeing the basket hungrily.

Reya drew the basket close to her body. She didn’t want them to see how empty it was. She hadn’t been able to bring back anything, not even some bread or rotten vegetables. The guards at the market had tripled and the last week’s pickings had been lean.

“I-” She began before laying eyes on Asa. Asa’s fist was in her mouth, hungrily sucking on it with wide eyes. Reya’s voice caught in her throat. She couldn’t let her baby sister go hungry. Not when she looked like that. “I’ll be back,” she promised, stumbling backwards out the door. She had to find something, no matter the cost.

Don’t get caught.

It was the mantra she’d been taught years ago when she was hardly Asa’s age. Jian taught her everything she knew. He’d been four years older, the same difference in age as she and Claro. He’d been the one to show her how to steal and put food on the table for her family.

He would have advised her not to return to the market.

Don’t get caught.

“Jian isn’t here,” she muttered to herself as she hurried down the dusty road. He’d disappeared one day, went out and never came back home. Everyone assumed he ran away to the capital to look for a better life and Reya promised herself never to forgive him. He should have been there, helping her feed Claro and Asa.

But he wasn’t. He wasn’t there and she had to do this. With every instinct screaming to stop what she was doing, Reya entered the marketplace again. This time she twitched, feeling as though every guard and vendor would know her face after having been there only an hour before.

No one said a word, but Reya felt watched. She pushed the feeling away and continued down the road to the lesser watched carts. There had to be something easy within reach, some roots or a loaf of bread. Anything.

Don’t get caught.

Finally she reached the baker’s cart. His back was turned, dealing with a customer who had coins to pay with. It almost seemed too easy. Before she could stop herself, Reya reached out and grabbed a small loaf situated in the shadows. It wasn’t very large, the type of thing she’d have bought if she had the money to buy things.

She slid the loaf under the cloth of her basket and turned to dart away, running into something hard and solid in front of her.

The guard gripped her arm tightly before she could dart off and Reya flinched in fear. She’d never had a run in with a guard before. Once a shopkeeper had seen her run off with some of his food, but never a guard.

She bit her lip to keep from screaming. It would only draw more attention to what was happening and she didn’t need everyone to see her taken in.

“Filthy little thief, think you wouldn’t get caught?” Reya struggled against him, but it was no use. The guard was easily three times her size.

“Let me go!” Her only hope was that he would take pity on her- or more likely feel too lazy to turn her in to the magistrate.

“You oughta get a hand lopped off for that one, mongrel,” he said, his voice low and cruel. None of the passerby’s took notice of the two of them in the road. Thieves were arrested all the time, it did them no good to intervene. “Mayhap you’ll get a kind magistrate who’ll give you your druthers,” the guard continued, causing a shiver to go down Reya’s spine. “Which hand do you need more? The right or the left?”

Startled, Reya glanced up and met the guard’s eyes. She stared in shock at his face. It was Jian. A slightly aged Jian, but it was Jian nonetheless. Jian’s blue eyes and fair hair, Jian’s crooked tooth, Jian’s-

But the guard was too old to be Jian. He was at least in his early twenties, Jian was only four years older than her. And he wouldn’t ever be a guard. Ever.

Don’t get caught.

When Reya blinked, the guard’s face was different. He still had blue eyes and fair hair, but his cheekbones were different. His tooth wasn’t crooked. In fact, he bore little resemblance to Jian at all. Jian always had a smile on his face, ready to charm anyone, though he was always serious when it came to stealing.

Don’t get caught.

It had been her mantra. It was the one promise Jian made her keep. Whatever you do, don’t get caught. She’d let him down. Let everyone down. Claro and Asa were expecting her back home, they needed her back home. If anything happened to them it would be her fault.

Don’t get caught.

Prompt #8

The Prompt: Siren’s Song

The sailor stood at the railing, his feet braced against the swaying of the ship and hands spread far apart as he listened to the wind.

It almost seemed to be calling him. He had abandoned his post on the crow’s nest to get closer to the sea, for some reason he felt drawn to it. The briny saltwater sprayed his face and the droplets cooled him, settling on the heated leathery skin of his face.

But it still wasn’t enough. The surface of the ocean lay many feet below. No matter how far he strained, he was always too far away to feel the full effect of the ocean’s power. Entranced, the sailor leaned over the rail, eyes closed, letting his other senses take control for the time being.

The salty smell wafted through his nose and the song grew louder in his mind. It wasn’t real music, but rather a call. A summoning.

His fingers reached for the water, feeling the spray of the wave dampen his fingers. A sudden thought struck him. It would take nothing more than simply pulling himself over the railing and he could immerse himself in the waves.

He could become one with the ocean.

The sailor had half a mind to do that when a sharp call interrupted him. “Oi! You there! What’re you doin’ away from yer post?”

In an instant, his senses came back and he pulled away from the railing. The song in his mind muted until he could focus fully on the other man’s words. “I er- heard somethin’ on deck.”

“You don’ leave yer post for nothing, hear me boy?” The older man asked roughly. “’Specially at night in these parts. You’d do best to climb back up to yer nest and stay there.”

“Yessir,” the sailor said. Then he paused. Something about the words sounded strange. “These parts?”

“There’re tales of men doin’ strange things ‘round here.” The man scowled at the boy then continued back into his cabin. “Watch your step, boy.”

As the man disappeared back into the depths of the ship, the sailor was left once again alone with the ocean and his own thoughts. Heeding the man’s warning, he walked away from the edge and began the long climb up to the crow’s nest.

The song, silenced by the confrontation with another human, remained quiet in his mind. Though he was once again on his own, the only sounds he heard were the gentle slapping of the waves against the hull of the ship.

The yearning to be a part of the ocean was gone. He was alone in his mind.

Prompt #7

The Prompt: “Hold still, I’m trying to kill you.”

Effie sighed as she leaned against the frame of the bed, craning her neck so Paul could wrap his hands around it. He kept them around the base, closer to her shoulders than her actual neck, but it still gave Effie the shivers. It felt strange to subject herself to this multiple times every afternoon.

“This is supposed to be a passionate scene, you two!” A voice interrupted them and a tall thin balding man stalked down the aisle of the auditorium. “Passion! Anger! Fighting for your life! You- Desdemona, you’ve just been accused of something you’d never do and now you’re being killed for it. Why do you look so bored?”

Effie rolled her eyes and Paul disentangled his hands from her hair. “Sorry,” she muttered, easily jumping off the bed.

“And you, Othello! You’ve been betrayed! Show us that pain! We want to feel your pain!” He sounded so excited that Effie just wanted to walk off the stage in frustration. She liked acting, being on the stage in front of so many people, but they’d been hearing the same things from Davies for months in rehearsal.

“It’s hard to act all impassioned when she’s so resistant to me getting close to her,” Paul whined.

Effie scowled at him. He didn’t have to throw her under the bus because he was a crap actor. “You try being strangled sometime,” she snapped, eyes blazing. “It’s rather difficult to look like you’re fighting for your life and keep your neck at just the right angle so you can grab me.”

“Well you knew this scene was in the play when you auditioned,” Paul shot back. “Don’t take the part if you can’t do the work.”

Effie huffed at him. He didn’t have to pretend to be strangled to death a dozen times every evening. “Well maybe I should just quit now, would that make you happy?” She asked scathingly. She was tired of having to deal with this every single night after school. She loved acting, but this was something more akin to torture.

“You can’t quit,” Davies protested, looking scandalized. “We open next weekend!”

“Well I don’t want to be strangled anymore,” Effie said, wiping her eyes and sniffling. A few tears slipped down her cheeks as she stalked out of the auditorium.

She heard Davies on the stage as she left, frantically calling for her understudy in the wings. Effie knew the freshman didn’t have her lines memorized, let alone the blocking. She’d get a phone call later that night begging her to come back. It wasn’t going to happen, though. She was done with the theater. It was all too much to handle.

As the double doors slammed shut behind her in a dramatic exit, Effie drowned out all sound from the stage. It was as though that part of her life had closed with those doors. Two girls walking down the hallway giggled at her and Effie refused to make eye contact. They could probably tell she’d already quit. Her fall from the school’s social ladder was beginning.

She didn’t wipe the tears from her face and instead hurried toward her car in the parking lot. Her hair whipped behind her rather dramatically and the tears only added to her image. Effie knew she looked good, but she didn’t think twice about it.

Her older brother Patrick was waiting by the car, smoking a cigarette. Effie scrunched her nose up at the smell. “That’s a disgusting habit,” she said. He was always smoking.

Patrick snorted. “Want one?”

Effie almost shook her head out of habit, but then thought about it. She’d quit acting, didn’t have to worry about the smoke damaging her vocal cords anymore. There was no real reason to say no. “Sure.”

Patrick turned the car on and offered her both cigarette and lighter. “So you quit again?”

“I quit for good!”

“Sure you did,” he replied. “Right up until they call you tonight and request that you return. Then you’ll change your mind again and burst into tears and I’ll have to pick you up from rehearsal tomorrow.” Patrick raised an eyebrow at her. “Acting’s what you do, Ef. It’s in your blood. You’re just a little drama queen.”

“Shut it,” she snapped turning away from him to scowl out the window. “I’m done.”

“Fine,” Patrick said as he laughed a bit. “Put down the window so I don’t have to hear to freak out about smoke inhalation and your vocal cords later.”

Effie considered arguing because she really was done with theater this time, but decided not to. Putting up a fight was simply too much work after the awful night she’d had. She rolled down the window and Patrick let out a loud guffaw. Effie huffed and determinedly stared out the window. She wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of arguing.

But she really was finished this time.

Prompt #6

The Prompt: Terror in the night

She woke up, her throat raw from screaming and entangled in her sheets. Eileen struggled for a moment, freeing herself from the suffocating blankets. They fell to the floor softly and she pulled herself up, glancing around the room in fear.

Shadows played across the walls and Eileen continued to breathe heavily, even as she reminded herself of where she was. Her dorm room. Everything was fine. It was a new place, but it was nothing to be frightened of. Everything was fine.

The light flicked on and Eileen winced. She’d screamed. Again. At this rate Hadley was going to switch rooms before the first month had passed. “You okay?” Her roommate asked sleepily, rubbing her eyes.

Eileen’s face burned. She knew she looked awful, sweaty and shaking and huddled terrified in the corner of her bed, blankets thrown on the ground in a fit of fear. Using every bit of self control she had Eileen pried herself from the bed frame and deposited her linens on a pile in the center of her bed. Making the bed was beyond her, though, so she just left them there.

“I’ll- yeah. Fine. I’m just going to head down to- yeah,” she mumbled incoherently.

Hadley gave her a small smile and lay back down in bed. She’d grown used to the nightmares after being awakened by Eileen more nights than not. “If you say so. Turn off the light on your way out, would you?”

Eileen nodded and flipped the switch as she hurried down the hall to the bathroom. At three in the morning even the late night partiers were mostly in bed, passed out or simply exhausted after classes. For this Eileen was grateful. The bathroom had become her safe haven in the early hours of the morning.

She sank down against the cool tile, letting her head rest against it. Eileen’s frame began to shake again as her walls crumbled and the true terror set in. This night had been worse than most. At least she usually knew what scared her so much about the dreams- nightmares. There was some detail she remembered.

But there was nothing. Not a whisper, not a hint. Just that feeling of utter fear as she awoke.

The nightmares were like panic attacks. They’d only started once college began and Eileen had to move in with her new roommate. The first night it had happened she’d been mortified. Now she just kept hoping they would go away.

Eileen felt her body slowly begin to still as the sheer panic left, but she was far from fine. It took several more minutes and all the strength in her body to stand up and stumble over towards the sinks. She glanced in the mirror and immediately turned away.

She didn’t need to see her bloodshot eyes or the dark shadows that circled them. She knew they were there. The reminder just made things worse.

Instead Eileen splashed water on her face and let the cold droplets wash away the last feelings of fear. Everything would be fine now that she was awake. The nightmares only came when she was sleeping, leaving her waking hours free to focus on schoolwork. It was only just before bed she began to feel anxious.

Because she couldn’t spend forever in the bathroom, Eileen finally emerged. She didn’t have a choice to go anywhere but back to her room and hoped that Hadley would be asleep by the time she got there. The worst nights were when Hadley tried to talk to her about the nightmares. The only thing worse than being scared was being so humiliated, although sometimes after just waking up Eileen didn’t think there was a worse feeling in the world.

The light was still off when she opened the door and she let out a soft sigh of relief. She really wasn’t in the mood to deal with any kinds of probing questions. They just made things so much worse. Her relationship with Hadley was already awkward enough.

Even though sleeping wasn’t a possibility, Eileen curled up on her bed with a textbook. The least she could was use the next few hours to be productive.

A soft rustling drew her attention after hardly getting through the first page, though. Hadley must have been awake after all.

“You awake?” Hadley asked from across the dark room.

“For a while,” Eileen replied, although she never fell asleep after her nightmares.

“If you ever want to talk-”

“I know,” Eileen said, her face flushing despite the dark room. “You’re there.”

“I mean it,” Hadley said, sounding sincere. “I’m not just going to switch out and leave you alone.”

Eileen winced. Being alone might actually be better than sharing a room, but the thought was nice at least. “Thanks,” she muttered, still feeling embarrassed.

“Don’t thank me,” Hadley responded. “We’ve all got stuff going on. You’re no different.”

Eileen wanted to argue, to say she was different, but she didn’t have the energy. On these particular nights she always felt drained of energy.

After some more rustling, Hadley let out a small sigh. “Night,” she said, her voice muffled.

Eileen nodded. “Good night.” At least Hadley was understanding, if nothing else.

Prompt #5

The Prompt: Sometimes I wonder about you.

Where you are, what you’re doing. It’s been two months since I last saw you, nearly eight since we last spoke. No, don’t worry. I wasn’t following you around. I haven’t resorted to that yet. I saw you as I was driving by a girl’s party. Her name was Lana, I think? She had been one of your friends before we started going out.

I won’t lie, it hurts to see you with her again. I imagine you laughing at her jokes, letting her sling her arm around your shoulders. It’s like a burning coal of jealousy in the pit of my stomach. It’s wrong, I know, but it hurts to see you with someone else when you could have been with me.

Six whole months. It’s a long time to go without you, D. I never thought I would survive this long without you. It was my fault, I know, but that doesn’t make it hurt any less. In some ways it hurts more than if you had fallen out of love with me. It hurts to know that you’re out there, maybe still with feelings for me, but you refuse to come back.

I’ll keep my promises this time. I will. I’ll do anything to get you back.

It’s been twenty months since you broke up with me the first time. I thought I was going to die then and there. You broke my heart and it felt like the rest of me was shattered as well. When you came back to me it was the happiest I’d ever felt.

I’m sorry for screwing things up again. I’m sorry for letting you down. Please take me back. I’ll be anything you want this time.

Twenty nine months since I met you. That was the best day of my life. I first saw you in class that first day you came to school. You were the prettiest girl I’d ever seen. I could tell you were embarrassed by the way the teacher made you introduce yourself. I was pretty pissed on your behalf, but I think I forgave him when he made you sit by me.

That class became my favorite. I fell in love with you before you even knew my first name. I don’t think you ever knew how long my feelings had lasted. To you I was just the guy you sat next to in class, I knew that.

But when we became more it felt as though my heart would burst. And the night you told me you loved me, just less than twenty three months ago, was the night I gave my full heart to you. I’ll never love another girl like I do you. You’ve taken it with you, D. I’d say you stole it, but I gave it to you willingly.

How did things turn out like this? How did we go from head over heels in love to over?

No, I don’t expect you to answer that. I know what you would say all too well. And I’m sorry. Have I mentioned that before? I’m so incredibly sorry. I never intended to hurt you. That was the last thing I wanted to do. I just got so jealous when you spent more time with your friends than me.

I love you, D. Why can’t you understand that everything I did I did out of love?

But I was wrong. I know that now. I loved you too much and you needed your space. You deserve better than me, but it’s hard when all I want is you.

Two months since I last saw you and those have been the hardest two months of my life. I never realized how empty my life was before you were in it and now all I can think of is how much worse the pain is now that you’re gone.

I love you with every fiber of my being. How did that turn out so wrong?

There’s nothing I can say to fix what we had. That’s over. You made it clear the last time we spoke that I was never to come near you again. I’m sorry for that, for that and so much else. Where did I go wrong? All I wanted was for you to love me as much as I loved you. I never meant to hurt you, to do those things to you.

Sometimes when your soft skin was marked I could hardly look at you. I never told you how much it hurt to see you that way. It wasn’t you I couldn’t stand to see, it was what I had done to you. How I had marred your perfect beauty and turned you into my own ugly creation.

It was never my intention to hurt you.

Sometimes I wonder about you, D. Do you still dream about me? I used to love when you told me all of your dreams and had me help interpret them. Am I still a comforting figure in them? Or am I the dark shadow man that makes you wake up in the middle of the night in terror?

I’m sorry for that. I’m sorry for so much that you’ll never know because I was never able to explain. The more I hurt you, the more I hurt myself. It was self destructive. But I love you more than words can say.

After everything that’s happened, D, I still love you.