Mystery

State Of Confusion
"Where are they, I have been waiting here for two days" Dan clasped his face as he looked in the mirror, " I look like crap, what is going on, my head is pounding" Dan reached into the medicine cabinet and downed a couple of headache pills, he leant into the tap and drank straight from the stream. He noticed spots of blood on the basin, he looked more closely at his hands and could see abrasions over his knuckles. Dan was confused; he couldn't remember much as he ambled back into the living area. He scanned the room and all he could see was a sleeping bag in the corner, some empty packets of chips, three empty bottles of scotch, some dirty socks and a brown paper box. “Whoa, that's not good” Dan could see his daughter crying inside his head, it felt so real like she was really there, he could hear her sobs echoing through the empty house. He picked up his phone and dialled his wife’s number “ Hi this is Sascha as you might be aware I can't take your call right now please leave me a message and I will get back to you, bye” Beep “ hey baby it’s Daniel where are you? I thought the moving van was meant to get here yesterday, I got so drunk I can’t remember a thing! Can you give me a c..” Beep “ aaagh damn it!” Dan through down his phone and picked up the brown paper box it was labelled #17423562 Terusso. He started to open the lid when he heard a loud clunk coming from the neighbours house, he put down the box and walked over to the window. He could see a man dragging someone down the steps into a basement, she had a gag in her mouth and she was kicking and fussing, he was having trouble getting her down the stairs. Dan reached for his gun “Where is it” he searched the room and couldn’t find it. In all of Dan’s 17 years as a city Detective he had never misplaced his firearm. “ Something doesn’t feel right’ Dan had that feeling and it cut right through him, there was something familiar about this moment.
By RWG5 years ago in Fiction
"Emancipation Of Uncle Samson"
R “Emancipation Of Uncle Samson” He suddenly jerked awake, sweating profusely. He sat still on the bed mopping at nothing in particular, even the walls opposite him, he was not seeing. 15 minutes later, after a cup of cold water and visit to the toilet, he went back to sleep.
By Philip Ebuluofor5 years ago in Fiction
Return to sender
I guess who I am is irrelevant to the story, but what I did and why this brown paper box comes to me every year is what's going to blow your mind. I did something bad. I mean really bad. I have some issues with alcohol. I did all the things that come along with being an alcoholic. I also did the worst thing you could do as a drunk. I was at my favorite bar during the day drinking my favorite whiskey. When I was done I grabbed my car keys and began my drive home. Don't be alarmed because I would eventually tell this to the police, but we will get to this later. I would drink and drive on a regular basis because I knew my path home like the back of my hand. Even if I was blind I could drive home, that's how good I was. This particular day, my route was changed due to the big orange barrels that were blocking the road. I turned down a side street to go around, and she came out of nowhere, she had to be no more than six years old. No parents were around, the street was empty. No one came outside. I killed her. I saw the blood coming from her nose and ears. Her body was shaking, then she stopped. I panicked, I'm well off, and I have a high position at a major company, My wife, my kids. I have too much to lose, so I left. I know, what a crappy thing to do. I do think about her. A six year old child. I left her in the street dead. I went home and cleaned the blood off my car in the garage. My mind was racing. My wife said something to me but for the life of me, I can not tell you anything that she said that day. I couldn't tell you what anyone said that day for that matter. I hid, I watched the news trying to see if anything would come up about a hit and run. All the channels had nothing. I called all the hospitals and they didn't have any kids come in hit by a car. Part of me was relieved. I tried to rationalize what happened. Maybe it didn't happen. Maybe it was in my mind. Maybe I was so drunk I just thought that happened. I stayed home in bed for the next few days. I didn't drink, I didn't think about drinking, I just slept. My wife and kids thought I was sick. I was scared I would lose everything I built over this.
By Chad Sims5 years ago in Fiction
Memories on a Bench
Vivien knew she wasn’t supposed to be there. “it’s too cold today mom” she could hear the scolding in her mind. After raising six children, who’d given her 24 grandchildren and 45 great grandchildren so far (and one on the way), she was now deemed unfit to walk alone outside in late Autumn. She liked the cold, and the ducks, and the freedom. So with her little canvas bag of birdseed she walked through the park to her usual Sunday bench by the mostly ice covered pond. The birds who had adopted her through her weekly visits came running towards her, she gave them a smile rich with the wrinkles a full life brings. She reached in the bag “Just a pinch for now, you gotta wait until I sit these old bones down before you get the rest.” She sat down with all the grace and caution her age had earned her and noticed a package on the frosty bench beside her. A small box wrapped in plain brown paper. She picked it up and saw a note on it. “To the kind soul who finds this, please open with love.”
By Molimo5 years ago in Fiction
Box from the Past
Lana was an outgoing young lady, with dark eyes and a pale complexion. She was an outgoing person even on her worst days. Lana never met a stranger and enjoyed all life had to offer, but not because she led an easy life, given everything she wanted. In fact, it was quite the opposite, she lost both of her parents at a very young age.
By Laura Loflin5 years ago in Fiction
Broken
As she flicked the lights off a flash of light flooded the room filling the shadows. A loud crack of thunder followed just as she reached the front door.
By Khrystal Palmer5 years ago in Fiction
The Store
*somewhere, in a town nobody has ever heard of, at around 7:15am* You’d be driving, and you’d be hungry. 'Honestly, all I want is some chips' you might think, eyeing the cornfields engulfing you. You’d be so hungry, that you might almost drive past the store. A store so small you’d miss it if you blinked. You might pull into the parking lot, and if you did, there would probably be one or two cars there. This was typical.
By Luna5 years ago in Fiction
The One That's Coming
Father Emmanuelle jolted awake, the Bible falling off his lap and landing with a crack on the floor. He lowered his legs, eyes wide, but not seeing the dim room in front of him. He’d been dreaming. It was still vivid. They knelt in front of him, eyes downcast. Then one of their heads had exploded, followed by a bang—which was what had woken him.
By Schuyler Ebersol5 years ago in Fiction
My Guardian Angel
Intro: During a time where the world believed magic was a hoax. There lived a secret society of angels. They watched us from above with envy. The world of magic and belief was no more and the angels had to stay hidden like the rest, or at least they thought…
By Ja'Cara M5 years ago in Fiction
Whispering Death (part 2)
Drina repeated the name in her thoughts. Hestar, it was a beautiful name. Silently they stared at one another, Hestar slowly leaning in closer towards her lips. The view of her beauty was all she could see at that moment. Her lips were full and lush, calling Drina to taste them. All Drina could hear was the pounding of her heartbeat and the soft stir of Ocan beside her. Ocan! Turning her head, pulled away from Hestar to check if her sister was still asleep. Thankfully she had readjusted as Drina let out her held breath. It was not as if she held it secret from her sister for her attraction to other women, it was more that she needed to be wary of her emotions. To kiss Hestar might aid her in unleashing her powers and after having them crammed deep within her could be dangerous. Ocan was a reminder of her need to continue to protect her.
By Turan Turnip5 years ago in Fiction
A Paper Parcel
Bright yellow daffodils brushed against the house in the wind. I could smell the sweet and subtle aroma, mixing with the dozens of other flowers in the garden, my garden. I had a lot of time on my hands as a widow, plenty of plants to be potted. The rest of the yard was sectioned off for various fruits and vegetables. The tomatoes were coming in lovely, plump and red. My tea was still hot and steaming and I dropped a couple sugar cubes in with a plop. The tinking teaspoon swirled around, spreading the sweetness. The first sip was always the most perfect, before it all settled. Everything was perfect, really. Only it didn’t feel that way, something was missing. I couldn’t put my finger on it for the longest until that day the world came crashing down on me.
By Kyle Shafer5 years ago in Fiction
Chocolates from No One
There were no footsteps in the snow. Yet the package lay there, warm as babies’ breath against the frigid surrounding air, freshly placed.
By Emily T5 years ago in Fiction