|My money and my mouth.|
The PullWhen I was younger, someone showed me a video gametoo weird for me, but it made her laugh, and she was pretty. You played as this little guy with a squishy hammer for a head, and you rolled a sticky ball around in front of you. As you rolled it, things got stuck until the ball was gigantic. And then... I don't know. I don't remember the point of the game, nor do I remember the name.The Pull by SkysongMA
But that image comes back to me every time I am anxious. I am that little person running around, pushing a ball, and things stick to it. Only they aren't cows or trees or parts of buildings: they are things that make me nervous. The attention of people. My sparse resume. The way I can never look someone in the eye when we first meet.
Oh. And I don't have a squishy hammer for a head.
Regardless, today is like that. I've talked to too many people and some weird man had told me he was my father and my mother was on the back of a book with a different name but the same damn face.
While I was walking home,
Tribute to MemoryThe old woman next door played her depressing version of Happy Birthday to You on her piano again, and Lisa couldn’t study.Tribute to Memory by Swiss-Dilettante
The music wasn’t loud, but it seeped through into her apartment with its slow pace and low notes and bothered her, even though it was ignorable and she was comfortable in good company.
“There she goes again with the sleepy music.” Mark placed his Calculus book on the coffee table, leant back into the couch, and yawned. “What’s this, the eighth time this year?”
“The first time,” Lisa said. “And how’s it sleepy music?”
“It’s making me drowsy.”
“I think it’s sad.” Lisa stretched against her boyfriend and closed her eyes. She thought of her own mother, grey and unhappy when she last saw her, and now gone. “I think she’s sad. Doesn’t she always play it like this around this time?”
“I think so,” he said. “And if she
The Childhood Innocent "Mom, I'll be alright! Now lemme go!" Matthew complained, trying to squirm out of his mother's arms.The Childhood Innocent by Midnight-Day
She smiled, planting a kiss on his head before stepping back. "Are you sure you have everything? Your lunch? Your pencils? Your --"
"Yeah, yeah, I have it!" he interrupted, keeping his eyes on the steadily approaching yellow blob on the road. As it came near, it slowed down slightly and faded into the more distinct form of a school bus. The doors opening with a quiet sss, Matt hopped on the first step, then paused for a second.
"Bye, sweetie!" his mother called, waving.
He winced, muttering, "I told you not to call me that in front of the other kids!" But he gave a half-hearted wave and climbed on the bus.
Walking down the crowded aisles, he felt so small in front of everyone else. Add that to the fact that this was his first ever day of school, he was a puny kindergartener, and there were
A Modest Solution2088.A Modest Solution by SurrealCachinnation
Birth month 7.
Mei looked up the records on the day the City Council announced the arrival of the Vending Machines and Microwaves: Day 12, Month 9, Year 2088. It was a healthy curiosity. Her parents never spoke of it, but she always wondered about the other children she might have grown up with.
“You are named after my mother,” Mei’s mother had told her once. “You have her eyes. Deep and brown like the earth. Your grandmother passed away while I was pregnant with you. It seemed right for you to inherit her name.”
“What was Mr. Lee’s firstborn’s name?” Mei asked.
Her mother only pursed her lips and ordered Mei to peel the potatoes for supper.
Mei had been six at the time and didn’t understand the concept of death. Mr. Lee, their neighbor, had a son the same year that Mei was born. There were baby pictures of the boy
|These are all the submissions I get for ScreamPrompts. Check them out; not all the submissions I receive make it to the group's gallery but they are all in this collection. You might find some hidden gems in here!|
CinnamonIsaac was a Priest of Avandra who had been blessed with less than stellar luck.Cinnamon by TsengEclipse
He had been born in a village that no longer existed, having been raided by bandits a few months after his birth. His mother, an elf, had died before he’d been old enough to remember her face. His father, a goliath orc, had taught him excellent orcish in an area that did not speak the language. He had joined the Priesthood of Avandra and since then spent more time running away from angry people than travelling like he ought.
He had ended up as a young human in the elfish city of Thotō. And it was a very nice city, and the rest of the Temple staff were very nice too, and Isaac had entertained the notion that maybe his run of terrible luck was over. He had a friendship with a few of the elves and a few of the shifters, and the Temple had a zero-tolerance policy on racism unless one of the secret police people were spying on them.
It had all been very nice.
Isaac hadn’t had a big