Unspoken Feelings

Short Story By: Erika Canoy

The weatherbeaten shack swung alarmingly, wood protesting against the strong eastern wind that threatened to topple it off the cliff into the raging seas below. The shack wasn't worried. It had weathered far worse storms than this. The overgrown grass that crept up the walls and the dust collected on the windowpanes proved this.

 

Lightening crackled across the sky, lighting up the landscape and illuminating a dark, solitary figure striding along the weathered cliffs. His shape seemed to flicker slightly, and he walked with a jerky, uneven step. The newcomer stopped a few metres back from the door, as if to admire the peeling paintwork and rusty handle. Apparently satisfied, he peered over his shoulder, eyes piercing the dark for a moment, before marching up to the door and delivering a solid kick to the centre. With a groan, the door slowly fell in on itself, landing with a muffled thump onto the floor. Dust rose in clouds around it. The man stepped over it, boots making no noise on the hardwood floors.

 

He looked up, pushing the hood of his jacket back, sharp features illuminated by the lightening that flashed across the sky. The room was sparsely furnished, with an old rocking chair tucked in the corner and a fireplace against the southern wall. Shrugging off his jacket, the man knelt by the grate, rummaging around in his pocket. Finding what he was looking for, he pulled some kindling out of his bag and arranged it expertly. Clicking open his lighter, he coaxed the flames into life.

 

As the flames crackled and soot rose in clouds, the man exhaled and began rummaging through his bag again. Pulling out a crumpled piece of paper and a pen, he appeared to be deep in thought for a moment before hastily scribbling a note. Striding over to the rocking chair, he placed it gently on the worn seat before picking up his belongings and striding back to the broken door. He hesitated just a moment, face twisted in a mix of emotions, before straightening his shoulders and marching out into the cold night air.

 

Well, that was a waste of time, thought the shack contemptuously. The thunder continued to rumble around the cliffs as the nameless man looked down into the depths of the sea, and then, quite suddenly, threw himself off the edge of the cliff to go spinning like a rag doll through the air.

 

The shack resumed its moaning and creaking, ignoring the scene that had been played out before it. It was nothing new. That man had come every night over the past year, to write that same note and throw himself off the cliffs once more. The shack supposed he'd simply keep doing it until the end of time. Eternal life was not something you took for granted, the shack did know that much.

 

The flames, still burning merrily, flickered and died as the man landed with a muffled splash onto the rocks below.

Short Story By: Claire Moral

Although it's not as sad as other stories posted on this website, I just really want to put out my feelings, and let it go.

 

The first time I met him was in journalism class. Even though I'm a freshman, I still can have classes with upperclassmen in electives such as this one.

 

I haven't really thought of the upperclassmen, I felt that they were people I didn't really need to associate with because we were in different grades. But I talked to some of them, by connecting with golf, and some funny stories, until I talked to him.

 

He's a great guy, smart, funny, someone I know is really mature. But I realized that he was 17/18, I was really sad, what kind of senior would go out with a freshman right?

 

But I still talked to him, IMed him, and just plain enjoyed myself when I'm with him. I asked him a few personal questions on form spring, and he found out, and it's awkward.

 

And when I realized he had someone he liked, I felt pretty crushed.

 

The worst part is where I also have another elective (graphic design) with some upperclassmen, and I sit next to his friend. We talked and he realized somewhat are partially that I like him. He told me that he would ask me out on a date on Saturday. Of course, before I had graphic design, I had journalism, but the guy I liked had no mention about this whatsoever.

 

But then again, we couldn't really talk a lot, because our assigned seats put us far away. To make things more clearer, we could talk a lot because this class is in a Mac Lab, and we sat next to each other and talked a lot. With assigned seats we couldn't talk a lot, but I still went up to him and talked about random things such as Halloween costumes for our school assembly.

 

It just crushed me. I've never met a guy like him, and he's someone I would really feel like would make a great friend, and companion. But it might just be me. I've never felt this strongly about a person before, and previous crushes never felt like this.

 

I know it's not as sad as some of you think, but to me, I feel that I couldn't have felt worse. I've never had a boyfriend before, I never had my first kiss, I was hoping that it could have been him.

 

I know I shouldn't even look at him like that because he's a senior. Sooner or later I will move on, but on this website, I just wanted to write down how I feel and let it go.

Short Story By: Jessa Mae Guiritan

It's been 3 years... 3 years of loving him. But in the middle of the 3 years, a knife stabbed my heart. He got a girlfriend... The thing is he knew I liked him, he never said anything. How am I suppose to know if I'm suppose to give up? When I heard he got a girlfriend, I didn't know what to do. I didn't feel anything, I was numb, too shocked to do anything. That night, I thought of killing myself, I knew it was stupid yet I still thought of it. I cried and cried, I kept thinking and thinking. He was happy and I was sad. Was I suppose to be happy for him? I was always the second option. He broke my heart and it left a scar in my heart. People told me to give up so I said I have. But did it work? No. No matter how hard I tried I just couldn't. Slowly as time past, I stated losing feelings, I just focused on school and my friends. It was fun while it lasted, I THOUGHT I completely forgot about him.

 

I found out that we were in the same class... I thought oh well. However, as soon as the school year began, hell went lose. Then, I heard that he broke up with his girlfriend over the summer. My feelings came back, of course at first I tried ignoring all those feelings. Slowly, we became closer (I guess) but we weren't close like everyone else thought... I was always nervous to talk to him. I made decision to just become a good friend. I tried keeping my feelings aside, but one day I lost it. When, we were hanging out with our friends, this girl asked him out. I couldn't handle the pain, everything came rushing back to me. I ran away... I kept crying, remembering the pain of the day I found out he got a girlfriend. But surprisingly, he ran after me, he asked me if I was okay. I said yeah. Then I was too curious, I asked him what did you say to her? He said I don't like her, I said no. Don't worry...

 

Those words. When I told him everything, about how I loved him for 3 years. He asked me what do you like about me. I was speechless, i didn't know what to say. I don't think there's a reason for me liking you. When I asked him how he felt about me, he told he doesn't know. His ex girlfriend used him to get closer to his best friend. And then, his best friend went out with his ex. It was messed up, yeah so I knew he wasn't ready for a relationship or anything. So I just left it be, he needed time and I understood that. (A/N: Btw the best friend and the ex broke up and the best friend feels bad and sorry to him so don't hate. Humans always f*** up).

 

Slowly as time passed by, hopes kept rising, he kept giving me hopes, I don't know if he knew. More memories and hopes kept rising, this is when it became harder. Those hopes and memories made it harder for me to give up. I kept keeping the hopes and memories even if I knew I was going to get hurt at the end. I didn't want the time for me to give up or keep getting hurt by someone who doesn't seem to care... He's kind of shy and very secretive so I don't know his feelings. Anyways, the nightmare I was dreading/waiting for, finally came.

 

*This is a story that didn't end, yet. The girl can't decide... Even if she would promise to herself that she would give up the hopes and memories were impossible to throw away or ignore.

Whenever the girl tried giving up, the guy somehow would give her hopes.

Poem By:Erika Canoy

Friendship ls one of life's greatest treasures

Friends that are loyal are always there to make you laugh when you are down ,

They are not afraid to help you avoid mistakes and They look out for your best lnterest

This kind of friend can be hard to find,

But They offer a Friendship that will last a lifetime

Other Friends kay not be quite as loving

The pain cause by a Friendship marred by betrayal is not easy to overcome

ln fact , many poems find their lnspiration From the joy brought about by a loving

Friendship or the pain caused by a failed Friendship

Poem By: Claire Moral

 

l think about you everyday

l plan out what to say

You have no idea , you have no clue

Just how much l think about you

l try not to stare , l try not to hide

l try not to show that l have always lied

lf l had told you before perhaps you might not be the same

l want to tell you how l feel

But the voices lnside makes me hush

So l keep it down lnside My heart

Hoping that nothing falls apart

Where ever you go , My heart will follow

But sadly , ever , only l will know

l hope My heart will never be broken

All because of My love unspoken

Short Story By: Mary Joy Solayao

“When my sister Betsy and I were kids, our family lived for awhile in a charming old farmhouse. We loved exploring its dusty corners and climbing the apple tree in the backyard. But our favorite thing was the ghost. We called her Mother, because she seemed so kind and nurturing. Some mornings Betsy and I would wake up, and on each of our nightstands, we’d find a cup that hadn’t been there the night before. Mother had left them there, worried that we’d get thirsty during the night. She just wanted to take care of us. Among the homes’ original furnishings was an antique wooden chair which we kept against the back wall of the living room. Whenever we were preoccupied, watching TV or playing a game, Mother would inch that chair forward, across the room, toward us. Sometimes she’d manage to move it all the way to the centre of the room. We always felt sad putting it back against the wall. Mother just wanted to be near us. Years later, long after we’d moved out, I found an old newspaper article about the farmhouse’s original occupant, a widow. She’d murdered her two children by giving them each a cup of poisoned milk before bed. Then she hung herself. The article included a photo of the farmhouse’s living room, with a woman’s body hanging from a beam. Beneath her, knocked over, was that old wooden chair, placed exactly in the center of the room.”

 

…Did it get colder in here, or is it just me?

Poem By: Jasmine Balones

I am a girl who don't believe in love

A girl who don't believe true love

A girl who don't believe forever

Whe n it comes to special someone

I don't take it seriously

I don't treat him special

Because I know Boys nowadays

"Pa fall, paasa, atikiro"

Not all, but some do exist

Now, When I found you 

The bitter becomes sweet

I finally know what love is

I found the real love

I found the true love

And now I am inlove

Eventhough you're not my forever

Eventhought you're not the one

Eventhough you're not the last

But I'm hoping that you're my future

I'm hoping that you're my last

And I'm hoping that you'll stay with me.

Short Story By: Jasmine Balones

 

In a dense forest, there was lake. All the animals used to drink water from the lake. The water of this lake was so sweet that many fish lived there for long time. In this lake there lived a crab. The crab’s best friend was a swan. That swan was in the same lake. They were happy in the company of each other. Their happiness lasted until one day a snake made its home near the lake. Every day the swan laid an egg. The snake would come and eat it up. “I have to find a way to save my eggs," thought the swan. One day, he went to the crab and said, “Please help me, dear friend. My eggs are under threat. That cruel snake eats all the eggs in the nest. What can I do?" The crab decided to help its best friend. The crab thought for a while. Then he said, “I have an idea. Let us catch some fish from this lake and scatter them from the snake’s house till the mongoose house." That mongoose lived in the nearby tree. Then, the crab and the swan caught some fish and dropped them from the mongoose’s house all the way to the snake’s house. Then both of them hid behind a tree and watched. They waited for some time. After a long time, the mongoose came out. He saw the fish and was overjoyed. “Mymm! Fish right outside my own house!" he said, smacking his lips. He happily ate all of them one by one. As he ate he kept following the fish trail to the snake’s house. Finally, the mongoose reached the house of the snake. Both the crab and the swan were watching all these events, waiting behind the tree. When the snake saw the mongoose, he thought, “That mongoose is here to attack me. I had better fight with it." After some time, the snake started to fight with the mongoose. They fought for some time. After a fierce battle, the mongoose killed the snake. Watching this behind the tree, the swan and the crab heaved a sigh of relief. But her joy was short-lived. The next day, the mongoose, looking for more fish, came upon the swan’s nest. There the mongoose found more eggs of the swan. He immediately ate all of them. The swan and...

 

In a dense forest, there was lake. All the animals used to drink water from the lake. The water of this lake was so sweet that many fish lived there for long time. In this lake there lived a crab. The crab’s best friend was a swan. That swan was in the same lake. They were happy in the company of each other. Their happiness lasted until one day a snake made its home near the lake.

 

Every day the swan laid an egg. The snake would come and eat it up. “I have to find a way to save my eggs," thought the swan.

 

One day, he went to the crab and said, “Please help me, dear friend. My eggs are under threat. That cruel snake eats all the eggs in the nest. What can I do?"

 

The crab decided to help its best friend. The crab thought for a while. Then he said, “I have an idea. Let us catch some fish from this lake and scatter them from the snake’s house till the mongoose house." That mongoose lived in the nearby tree.

 

Then, the crab and the swan caught some fish and dropped them from the mongoose’s house all the way to the snake’s house. Then both of them hid behind a tree and watched. They waited for some time. After a long time, the mongoose came out. He saw the fish and was overjoyed. “Mymm! Fish right outside my own house!" he said, smacking his lips. He happily ate all of them one by one. As he ate he kept following the fish trail to the snake’s house. Finally, the mongoose reached the house of the snake. Both the crab and the swan were watching all these events, waiting behind the tree.

 

When the snake saw the mongoose, he thought, “That mongoose is here to attack me. I had better fight with it." After some time, the snake started to fight with the mongoose. They fought for some time. After a fierce battle, the mongoose killed the snake.

 

Watching this behind the tree, the swan and the crab heaved a sigh of relief. But her joy was short-lived. The next day, the mongoose, looking for more fish, came upon the swan’s nest. There the mongoose found more eggs of the swan. He immediately ate all of them. The swan and the crab now felt helpless. They had brought this new threat upon themselves. They did not know that the mongoose was the dangerous helper. “Our thoughtlessness has got us a new enemy. Even more dangerous than the previous enemy," cried the two friends.

 

After few days, they decided to form one more plan to get rid of the dangerous helper - mongoose. It is must to be careful while fighting with an enemy.

Short Story By; Bhea Sidaya

The day I died is the day I lived. How did I lived? I lived in darkness,

Haunted be entities I see in my dreams, seeing demons in human form.

Mortals idolizing demons, it sickens me;

I am Death incarnate,

Well at lease I’m trying to have standards.

Let me tell you about the day I died.

It was the usual routine, collecting souls

To enter heaven, until I arrived to

Room 6A, at Ararat General Hospital,

Ariya Davis, cancer patient, no friends, no family

At first, it was a simple collection,

but to my surprise, she was expecting me.

I froze when I heard her voice asking,

“Are you here for me?”

My heart twinged,

I replied,

“You’re not afraid of me.”

Ariya replied,

“Should I be?”

I’m dumbfounded by her fearlessness of the supernatural,

Back and forth with my inner voice, I raised my head to the heavens,

asked God, what does this mean?

Short Story By; Jan Christine Pedaria

BTK? Dahmer? The Nightslasher? Ooo, they were so scary … but they didn’t compare to Sodomy Sam, The Fifty Shades Killer. No, he had fifteen Kansans to his name and more coming and all his murders mimicked scenes from that popular book. All those others killers were idiots. They didn’t think ahead, didn’t plan correctly and most importantly, they weren’t patient. Hell, it was like they wanted to get caught.

But Sodomy Sam, he wanted to make the history books as the most prolific serial killer of all time. He wanted to be the Jerry Rice of terror, the Wayne Gretsky of slaughter, the Eddie Gein of serial … wait, Ed Gein was a serial killer, or at least a murderer. Anyway, the world would fear Sodomy Sam.

… And now he was about to get his most notorious kill to date; Ms. Kansas.

She was tall, blonde, famous. She was starting a singing career, maybe going to Hollywood. No, that’s what she thought she was going to be doing. What Ms. April Johansen was going to really be doing was bleeding quietly on her own bedroom floor.

Ducking slightly, Sam watched her small Honda pull into her driveway. She had been out with her friends and was probably their designated driver. She was so perfect. Patiently, because patience was important, he watched her climb out of her car, a dainty smile on her face.

Yes, she was perfect. She had been the prom queen, voted most likely to succeed, straight “A” student, captain of the volleyball team. Sam had done his homework, as was important for all serial killers.

He knew everything about her. That she took her morning shower at six-thirty, but not until she had a cup of herbal tea. That she slept with a teddy bear, the same one she had received as a present from her Gammy when she was born. He even knew when she started her cycle every month. Yes, patience and research. Sam was the greatest.

He watched her bounce out of her car and took a moment to admire her, like a sculptor admiring a fine piece of marble right before hacking it to pieces. He watched the way her breasts bounced under her sweater; she always wore sweaters. He watched her hair in the breeze.

He watched the way she popped her neck, rolling it awkwardly and at an unnatural angle?

Shaking his head, Sam slithered like an medieval ninja to her bedroom window and waited. At twelve thirty, she would turn out the light. On the weekends, she stayed up late; clear until twelve thirty. But week days, she needed her beauty sleep … and what a beauty she was.

Sitting under her window, Sam secretly wished he could keep part of her as a trophy. But no, that was a bad idea. That would get him caught. Ms. Kansas’ parts needed to stay in her house … just not all together.

With a tick,the heard her switch off her light. It was his time now. Time for glory, time for Ms. Kansas to die.

He quietly slipped his knife between the slats of her window. What a dumb blonde, she lived in an old house that was so easy to break into. Using the blade, he tap, tap, tapped the lock to the side. Then, sliding the blade to the side, tap, tap, tapped the board away that was acting like a second lock.

Didn’t she know that he would be able to … what was that noise? It was a wet, dripping sound, but thick and slow. A dog licking something?

Shaking it off, Sam slowly and quickly lifted the window. It moved like it was on oiled roller bearings, like it skated up the side of the window frame. Perfect.

Quickly, and without looking back, he ducked his head into the window … and ran into something solid. With a thud, he stopped short. There was something on the window something …

Sam sat back. There was an elaborate box around the window decorated to look like her dark room. There even appeared to be lighting around the edges, to make it look like her lights were coming on and going off. But … why?

Maybe she was pervert! Maybe she did things alone in there that he could expose! It was perfect! More perfect that just killing a pretty girl!

Feverishly, he went to work. His palms sweated and hands shook. There were some simple screws holding the blind in place. Blind. Blind.

As he popped the last screw loose and slid into the room, he realized … it really was a blind. A hunting blind. It was a covering to disguise what was happening in the house.

The walls were all painted red, but not with paint. Blood was splattered on the sheet rock as if something living had exploded inside the house. It ran down the already red walls in sheets. From the ceiling, rusted and blood soaked chains where hung and on their end were huge hooks, like those used to hang sides of beef in slaughter houses.

One after another, Sam saw various corpses in differing states of decay. All were stripped and all showed signs of being eaten. Some had been gnawed to the bones leaving little more than a few strips of flesh on the their skeletons, others were nearly fresh with only a few vicious bites.

In the corner, one chain rattled and a groan issued through the grisly buffet. Sam saw a beast gnawing at the thigh of a still-living man, a man who was barely conscious.

The creature was horrific, like something straight out of Hell itself. Its skin was pulled taught over its bones. Its canine jaws, devoid of flesh and jutting out of its skull, appeared to have burst violently through the skin. The beast wore rusted barbed wire like a ball gown that cut and tore its skin. Most frightening for Sam though was the cascade of long blonde hair that flowed over the twisted horns on its head.

With lightning speed, the creature turned and darted across the room, grabbing Sam by his arms, “Hello Sam,” it hissed.

The would-be serial killer could only stammer. The rancid iron in its breath was choking him.

“I’ve been waiting for you Sam,” she said. “I’ve waited oh so long for you.”

Sam tried to struggle, but the monster was insanely powerful. It held him like champion bodybuilder would hold a small child.

“Wha …” he tried to say as the deadly maw of the beast leaned toward his face.

“You did good work,” the creature hissed, “But now I need to eat you.”

With a grunt, it threw him onto the nearest hook, “But don’t worry,” it assured him, “I only eat the evil parts.”