The Y-Box_Ghosted by the Neighbor_Vengeance Kicking_Halloween Horrors
Catalog Guide:
The Y-Box
Content warning: rape, homophobic languageHe was too nervous to do it while other people were in the theater. Now that they're alone though, it's a different story. He keeps his eyes on the black mega-screen as he reaches over."Reese!" Natalia says."Wh-a-a-t?" Now he looks over. "It was your idea. C'mon. The theater's empty. We have like, five minutes and a hundred fucking trailers until the next movie."The theater is dark. Reese's face is dark. All Natalia can see of it are the metal rivets in his nose and lips. They bite into the dark like stars, constellations mapping his invisible face. Th...
Ghosted by the Neighbor
I recently moved into a new neighborhood. Kind of one of those idyllic southern places with manicured lawns, Spanish moss hanging from ancient oak trees lining the streets...you know the type of place. The type of place most people only dream of living. And I got the opportunity through a lot of work, and some loss, to call it home. Anyway, I moved into this gorgeous old plantation style www.onedoor.cchome on about a half an acre of land -basically a life size doll house- with a few of those moss covered trees in the yard. The neighborhood is small and the houses are all immaculate as are the lawns. I'd be...
Vengeance Kicking
Vengeance KickingIt is time for me to wreak vengeance. I thought that was something that I would never say or think. But it is something I simply have to do, given the situation. I just can’t let things be. I have to strike back, not just accept that I am a helpless victim. Life had been going so smoothly for me. The job paid well, and it wasn’t boring, as I like calculating numbers. Then this Wednesday, the boss called me up to his lofty, top floor office, and said straight out to me (not even offering me a coffee from the machine he had just used to pour himself a brew) “We’re going to have ...
Halloween Horrors
It’s 6pm on a particularly eerie Halloween night and I walk up to Mr. Jenson’s house wearing a pink floral dress my grandmother lent me. The stark contrast from my usual faded jeans and oversized T-shirt makes me feel like a completely different person. Just before ringing the doorbell, I straighten my skirt, adjust my shoulder length wig and pat a little more powder on my face. The distorted reflection of myself on the floor-to-ceiling windows beside the door show a 80 something year old woman way wiser and beyond my actual 27 years of age. I ring the doorbell and a strange man I have never s...