I’ve felt fear; while listening to scary stories or watching horror movies and replaying certain scenes over and over again in my mind when I can’t fall asleep easily. But what I felt at that moment was beyond fear.
Classroom Horror Story
Short Stories
Tower On The Cliffs – Part 2
“You drowned, miss. People don’t usually survive that, do they?”
And they never told lies, but not telling lies isn’t the same as telling the truth…
“
Tower On The Cliffs – Part 1
One balmy day, Lynn ventured out to the cave by the bay. Technically, it was called a cove, but the phrase “cave by the cove” didn’t roll off the tongue well enough for her to accept the technical expression.
Godspeed
The kitchen is on fire, but it isn’t Boo’s fault.
Sure, he’s accident-prone, and just a tad bit mischievous, and maybe sometimes he gets muddy footprints on the carpet, but he’s not a bad kid. At least, that’s what he tells himself, knowing that the high-pitch smoke detector alarm will have his mom flying down the stairs in a flurry of ire soon enough.
Happy Birthday
The first birthday.
It was unsurprising the parents would throw a party to commemorate the special occasion. Cake, candle, presents, singing and clapping. Even if the tot of honour wouldn’t really understand what was going on.
I just wished I wasn’t strung along for the madness, but Mum insisted I went with it. Paid me handsomely to clam up the complaints and head down to the shops for something appropriate.
“I don’t think we should be endorsing this charade,” I said, but my protests fell on deaf ears.
“Your aunt would really appreciate this. He’s her first child, after all.”
4am: Homesick in Sunway City
Part I
Feet in saltwater, head tipped to the sky, the screech of gulls ahead. Idle fishing pole gripped in your palms, disobedient fish swarming below the pier.
A call in the distance that sounds like your mother’s. You turn to holler back –
You blink awake to cool sheets, rat-tat-tat of a fan above. For a second you think you’re home and your brother’s about to rush in, banging at the door, but you know this grey ceiling, the university-issued closet in your periphery.
Coffee. Then consciousness.
ECHO: Stories from 2018
For our last article of 2018, ECHO has decided at the suggestion of one of our writers, Natasha, to compile a series of passages from …
Untitled (due to the sheer indecisiveness of an overthinker)
There I was, standing in front of a bookshelf in a bookstore of a mall on what seemed to be a lazy Sunday afternoon, as the store workers were either idly meddling with their little oblong screens as they stared into it with droopy eyes, or simply deep within the dreams of an afternoon nap, drool seeping its way down the side of their mouths. The store itself wasn’t crowded; a couple of children with their parents – worn, exhausted and withering like ghastly undead cadavers (which is unsurprising considering they were very likely soaked in a midlife crisis), browsing the stationery section or in a panic looking for materials for a last minute school project; and a few others, like me, trapped in ‘decision-making purgatory’ within the aisles of the endless labyrinth of bookshelves.
Awake & Alive
There, standing behind my father, steadfast in her beauty and in her support of my father alike, is my mother. It’s not her that I’m taken aback by, it’s the boy next to her. He’s the spitting image of Mr Boyd, this boy, with the same obsidian eyes and platinum blonde hair. He smiles directly at the corner, cool and close-lipped.
“That – that’s me,” I say.
Into the Forest of Eyes
“But something felt amiss. The trees were watching. It wasn’t long before she realised they were everywhere. Some were hanging from the branches while others were embedded into the trunks, glowing a dim eerie light that scattered like orbs throughout the dark.”