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Ryan sits in the dark, in a room, in a basement of a house that he’s never been in before. The door is locked and he’s all alone. He can’t even see his own hand in front of his face it’s so dark. The room smells like old clothes, like sweat, and fear, and bleach. He’s been captured.

Posted By Cassie On 03.28.2012 @ 3:08 pm

“The Catcher in the Rye? Really?” Jamie asks. Conrad sets the book against his chest, it’s worn out, older than he is and picked up at one of those second hand shops downtown.

“Shut up,” Conrad says, “I like it. You can’t judge me, you don’t even read.”

“Your reading list is like that of try-hard. I bet you like Palahniuk and Austen too?”

Posted By Cassie On 03.27.2012 @ 12:28 pm

“What a temper,” She says to the small red cheeked child. The kid ignores her, screams even louder than before with fat little tears dripping off the tip of her nose and dark hair fanning all around. She isn’t sure what even tipped the poor kid into a tantrum but she ignores the crying all the same.

Posted By Cassie On 03.25.2012 @ 4:48 pm

She’s exquisite. That’s all Pete can think as he watches the gates of the family compound close. When his daughter was born, that’s what everyone said: “She’s exquisite.” And Pete believed it, more than that, he lived it, even if he didn’t show it.

Posted By Cassie On 03.25.2012 @ 2:17 am

Jamie’s fingers smell like lighter fluid, or was it gasoline? Either way, the residue is hanging heavy in the air between them. Conrad feels sick from it or maybe just from what they just had to do. The cab of Jamie’s car is too small. The world feels too small.

Posted By Cassie On 03.23.2012 @ 5:16 pm

Jinki set down his magnifying glass. He’d caught glimpse of the woman again, a phantom that roamed the museum that he’d made a second home as of late. He follows her without hesitation and without telling his team. He sneaks up the marble stairs, down a hall to a closed off room. The woman disappears into the wall and Jinki follows her through the door. She’s waiting for him in the room and she points rather anti-climatically to a trunk near the foot of the bed. Jinki goes and knees in front of it, the lock is old and rusty and with the right hit it pops right off. When the lid to the heavy trunk swings open, Jinki finds the very girl- or what’s left of her- who had lead him to the trunk.

Posted By Cassie On 03.22.2012 @ 4:33 pm

They need something to boost the ratings. Brendon has no idea how to boost ratings on a kid show. His first thought is to get naked but it’s sort of creepy for him to frolic around with kids while he’s shirtless. They wind up giving him a puppet and that’s okay, a little hokey, but it’s fine. What Brendon is really interested in is the man behind – or rather underneath – the puppet: Spencer Smith.

Posted By Cassie On 03.20.2012 @ 7:16 pm

Gabe set the flickering torch into the slot on the wall, the flame lights up the cold room in a faint orange light. The book he’s been looking for is sitting open on the desk in the room and the glimmering knife is askew on the table. Gabe licks his lips, says a silent prayer and then prepares the ritual.

Posted By Cassie On 03.19.2012 @ 1:20 am

Ryan paints the room a soft pastel yellow. Jude likes the color and he tells Ryan so with little pastel hand prints on the closet door. Jude’s room used to be green but with their new lives comes new change. Ryan’s own room is painted now. A nice reddish brown or what Brendon liked to call ‘The freshly divorced special.’

Posted By Cassie On 03.16.2012 @ 8:54 pm

Abed notices the pattern right away. Troy tries to tell him something, then when he can’t, he doesn’t talk to Abed for at least ranging from a few hours to a whole day, he can never go beyond that, or he hasn’t so far. His palms will sweat and he’ll lick his lips and he’ll get a funny look in his eye. None of this Abed can hope to understand beyond knowing the basic body language and creating an elaborate track of the pattern. It won’t fix anything, but it’ll make his stomach stop hurting.

Posted By Cassie On 03.15.2012 @ 10:11 pm

“What’s the proper duration for wishing your friend would annul his wedding?” Ryan asks.

“I don’t think there is one.”

“I’ll make one. I’ll be the first one. I’ll event the card that says ‘Sorry about your failed marriage, how about you give me a chance now.’ it’ll be great.”

Posted By Cassie On 03.15.2012 @ 4:13 am

Duration is how long a thing goes on for. Like the duration of your life, can be 100 years, or 1. The duration of a video game, can be seconds, minuets, hours and even days.

Posted By Cassie On 03.14.2012 @ 5:56 pm

Maybe Pete just needed to believe in something. Even if what his new found belief was that love isn’t better than just finding someone to bed for the night (Brendon’s words, not exactly Pete’s own) maybe he was tired and confused and he missed his ex-wife, he worried about his daughter. So, it was easy to wind up with Brendon more than anyone else.

Posted By Cassie On 03.13.2012 @ 2:37 am

belief is believing in something. To have belief, is to believe. I have great belief in myself :D.

Posted By Cassie On 03.12.2012 @ 5:52 pm

They end up going out for dinner, not at all a gourmet sort of place. Ryan doesn’t make good on his promise of fish tacos either. They go to this weird night club that has a restaurant in it and Ryan doesn’t eat anything, but Tom thinks he drinks everything alcohol in nature on the menu. Then he starts angling for his phone, he wants to text Jon, he wants to Tweet his feelings. Tom hides Ryan’s phone and gets called an asshole for an hour and a half as he eats his enchilada. As first dates go, this one bombed.

Posted By Cassie On 03.10.2012 @ 7:41 pm

Ryan wonders how Jon can dismiss him so easily, dismiss them so easily. He doesn’t think their whole relationship can be boiled down to a few rushed kisses and some misplaced feelings and touches that Jon later calls experimenting or blames on a pre-twenty-five, quarter life crisis.

Posted By Cassie On 03.09.2012 @ 8:20 pm

“What the hell is brunch any ways?” Tom asks.

“Something not as sophisticated as you’d imagine,” Ryan tells him, “It means chicken tacos and light alcohol before you have fish tacos and hard drinks for dinner.”

“Didn’t you and Jon always eat fish tacos?” Tom asks.

Ryan sucks down the rest of his drink. “Yeah,” He says, “We did.”

Posted By Cassie On 03.09.2012 @ 12:07 am

Brendon picks Spencer up late at night, once his parents are asleep. Spencer climbs out the window and runs around the back of the house. He catches the helmet that Brendon throws him and sticks it on his head as he slides up behind Brendon on the motorcycle. Brendon won’t lie, half the reason he likes the motorcycle is that Spencer has to hold on to him while he rides them around their sleepy uptight town.

Posted By Cassie On 03.04.2012 @ 5:26 pm

She didn’t think he’d sweat so much. It’s weird that it’s all she can think about. She can feel each drip fall from his face, his brow, and drop against her heated skin. His mouth is everywhere and she feels too damp, too hot, too soaked in him. They wanted this to happen, but she hadn’t considered how she wouldn’t be able to feel anything but him.

Posted By Cassie On 03.03.2012 @ 4:18 pm

The threads weave together, lacing around pulse points and fingertips. It’s strong, unbreakable, it’s magic according to his grandmother, stretching with the distance, never fraying, never breaking, it will always remain a strong bond between two people.

Posted By Cassie On 03.02.2012 @ 10:47 pm

In the swamp, there’s a light, there’s a person who holds the light. A person who knows too much, but not enough to actually solve anything. A half puzzle mind, and someone stole all the pieces. They know where to step to not be devoured by alligators, but they don’t know how to call it blood when they smell it.

Posted By Cassie On 03.01.2012 @ 7:15 pm

A heavy crescent moon hung in the sky, low enough that I thought I could touch it. The grass is wet all around me and I’m not sure why she brought me here. To look at the moon I guess, or maybe to just be alone. The thought makes my stomach hurt. She sits with her back to me and we’re not talking and I don’t know what to do, so I just look at the moon.

Posted By Cassie On 02.27.2012 @ 7:43 pm

To lift a heart is one thing, to decide to carry it is something else entirely. Should you make this choice you must always be careful, hold gingerly, walk steadily and bruise as little as possible. You have to keep it safe, as if it beats within your own chest and any damage would surely result in your own death. It’s why we ask with utmost importance, that you seriously consider the ramifications of carrying someone else’s heart.

Posted By Cassie On 02.26.2012 @ 12:35 am

A blast that shook us all, that cracked concrete and rattled the windows of the cabin. The two girls stood in the center of the chaos, one’s hands on the other and both fighting to live, to save, maybe to die, in certain ways. The ground quivered and their hands trembled. But no one could look away.

Posted By Cassie On 02.24.2012 @ 7:18 pm

Nate wakes up to a phone call from his sister, his older, beautiful sister. When he answers she’s crying. “He didn’t come home last night.” Is what she says. “He isn’t answering my texts.” Nate doesn’t exactly think it’s atypical for his brother-in-law but he tells his sister about the rules for filing a missing person’s report and then tells her he has to go because he has to go to work, because that creature attacked again. It isn’t until hours later when Jack grabs his shoulder and shakes his head, slides him a photo of the recent victim of the River Monster that he realizes how the two cases are connected.

Posted By Cassie On 02.23.2012 @ 10:26 pm

There’s a gallery in the back room, where my father never lets me go, it’s filled with pictures of people I don’t know, that I’ve never knew. My grandfather’s picture hangs here, but he’s my grandfather only by name because he was dead by the time I was born. My father’s own picture is destined for the spot next to his father, empty for now because my father at the time, is barely pushing thirty. Next to his spot, someday, will be me.

Posted By Cassie On 02.21.2012 @ 5:53 pm

The curse in her blood, nothing she ever asked for, a gift from her father that made him turn her away. Even he, a fellow cursed soul couldn’t save her from what was meant to happen. At first, a long time ago, it was a curse. Slowly, as many things do, it changed. With her new family it didn’t seem so bad.

Posted By Cassie On 02.20.2012 @ 7:52 pm

She remembers walking around the park with her father. Her tiny hand in his and she remembers it being warm and she remembers him smiling at her with dark eyes and dark hair and bright teeth. She remembers stopping at the park because she wanted a balloon from the vendor selling them near the playground. Her father bought her one because back then he’d do anything for her. She remembers this perfect moment when her dad loved her, she keeps the memory now because he doesn’t love her anymore.

Posted By Cassie On 02.19.2012 @ 9:08 pm

Will flirts with the idea of living a more normal life Maybe retiring from the force, or at least from his position of captain. Maybe taking Nick up on an offer or two one of these days. Maybe then he’d have actual food in his fridge and more time to fix up the house he bought two years ago with his promotion money. But as it is, he’s still here, still the captain, still chasing things that only haunt you in your deepest nightmares.

Posted By Cassie On 02.15.2012 @ 2:38 pm

For a moment at the top of the Ferris wheel when we could see everything, the glowing space of the carnival and the red tops of the tents. We swung back and forth and you held my hand even though I never once told you I was afraid. You hadn’t looked at me then, you were looking off at the glow of the carousel and the light caught your face. You smelled like funnel cake and sweat and the sweet summer night. I was too busy watching you to hear your words properly. “I’m ending my engagement.” Is what you had said. Then you looked at me. “I’m ending it for you.”

Posted By Cassie On 02.14.2012 @ 12:29 am