Revenge is Best Served from the Dead_Do It Over Again_No Room for a Relationship_The Song That Fire
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Revenge is Best Served from the Dead
My name is Danny Donahue and I am not your ordinary fourteen-year-old boy from Southern California. Well, I guess I may be ordinary, except for one teeny thing but I guess that normal. Nobody is just ordinary, heck what does ordinary even mean, I guess I will never know. Because I am not your ordinary boy, I am Danny Donahue, the boy who helps ghosts cross into their next life. Movies weren’t wrong, there are ghosts on Earth and sometimes they might get stuck on Earth because they have unfinished business with someone or themselves (ugh! They can’t even get peace after they die. I thought whe...
Do It Over Again
Chapter One: 2025I don't want to sit here and listen to Male go on about her recent test scores. I want to go somewhere else, and I know that I can. To Male, I'll still be sitting at the kitchen table as she rambles on about her day. But for me, I'll be back in 2012 when my sister was born. "It was just so hard," Male said. I continued nodding my head, pretending to listen. And then, it was like someone pulled me by my arm. I floated into the air up into the night sky. And suddenly, I was in the hospital, holding Male. Back when Male was little and didn't know how to talk, when she didn't know...
No Room for a Relationship
WhiiieeeAnne’s gaze was fixated out the window, savoring the view; the empty street, the singular tree towering in the front yard, the birds frolicking and competing for the lone bird bath.Whiiieeeeeee!An escapee tear strode down her face. Her knuckles white as they gripped the countertop. Steam started to fill the kitchen and her nostrils stung, as if she wanted to sneeze, instead they flared, irritated by the humid air and the lingering smell of dust. Her ears penetrated by the loud whistle. Loud enough now it started to ring out her own thoughts.“What the hell Anne?” Glen said, the kettle l...
The Song That Fire Sings
There werwww.onedoor.cce three times in Prometheus’s life in which he played with fire. The first time was many, many years ago, though time means nothing to the gods. He remembered it well, the stark look on his father’s face, the cold surroundings. “Take this,” his father had said, holding a single flame in his large, callused hands. “Take this, and burn what you can. Take this flame, and use it to cause an inferno.”It had surprised Prometheus, but it was a pleasant surprise, this gift. With what his father held in his hands, he could destroy, but he could also create. He could hold his own little world a...