The Novella Life of Illuscia Nester Himawari

Holding a cup of coffee in one hand and several folders in the other, he dragged his chair out from behind his desk and plopped down in to it. Sipping the all important morning brew, he opened the first of the folders and read the summary on the front page. It was a minor matter, but something he’d need to deal with eventually. Some things just couldn’t be delegated to subordinates. Glancing over at the ornate clock on his large oaken desk, he shook his head at the time. 7am. A later start than he would have liked; he’d probably have to work until midnight again. “Oh hey,” she said sleepily. “You’re here.” He looked up. “Mm?” She lay on one of the two fine couches that adorned his office. Stretching, she yawned and rubbed her eyes. “Damn, what time is it?” “Seven,” he said, returning to his reading. “Oh for Christ’s sake,” she groused. “If I knew you’d be in this damn early, I wouldn’t have crashed here.” He shrugged. “So go back to sleep.” “Nah,” she said. “I need to talk to...

It was warm for a December afternoon in Hutchinson, Kan., when Katie came home from work in 2008. Katie’s ride dropped her off across from her duplex, and as she stood in the street, her ride moving slowly away, she knew something wasn’t right. “I noticed two boys standing in my driveway,” she said. “One had longer dark hair and the other had his hood up so I couldn’t see him very well.” The teenagers, about 15 or 16 years old, seemed to be watching her – Katie felt they were waiting for her. She steeled herself and walked nervously across the road toward her porch. The boys had lurked around her neighborhood for months, but they’d never been so bold as to stand this close to her home. “I had seen them before, lingering in the yard, but they always left before I got out of my ride’s car,” Katie said. “I had seen them late at night as well standing across the street when I would go outside to have an occasional late-night cigarette.” But, although pangs of unease told her to...

I grew up in a small rural neighborhood, about twenty minutes out from the nearest town. It was a quiet place, full of kids my age. I grew up playing with my friends in the woods and swimming in the pond. My best friend was my neighbor, a girl a couple years older than me named Lily. Lily was mischievous and was always getting us into trouble. Her favorite thing to do was take me into the woods, where we weren’t allowed. Her backyard butted up to them, so all we had to do was hop the fence. In the woods, we’d walk out to our spot. We called it the Secret Spot of Secrecy, or SSS. The SSS was a clearing about ten minutes’ walk from Lily’s house. When we found it, there was an old wooden table and chairs. Not far from the table was an old mattress and some raggedy blankets. We made up stories about a lost princess who lived there and was helped by fairies. We were very imaginative girls. Every day, we’d go out to the SSS. We started leaving things, like sandwiches and nail p...

So, a few days ago my fiancée went on a cruise with some of her friends from high school. They’ve been planning this for years, and she has been saving up money from her job to be able to afford it for quite some time now. She left a few days before the cruise to get on a plane for the Florida Keys, and I’ve had the apartment to myself since then. We live in a one bedroom and one and a half bathroom apartment, so it’s nothing very special, but its home. Since she left, however, I’ve been experiencing things. Really terrifying, shitty things. At first, I tried to shrug it all off, but it’s built too much. I can’t just mentally write it off anymore. I need to talk about it cause I think something awful is happening to me, and its not just coincidences. It’s something evil. The first thing that happened was the recurring nightmare. It happened the night before she got on the boat. It was getting late, and after calling her and talking to her for an hour before, I was exhaust...

I stay hidden, out of sight, merging with the shadows, looming in dark corners. She feels my presence, though she denies it for that false sense of comforting security. I watch her. I take care of her. I sit by her bed all night because I know she feels lonely. She looks so beautiful when she’s sleeping. One night, I took a photograph of her when the worry on her face was replaced by calmness and peace. I left it for her to find so she would see herself the way I saw her, so she would see how beautiful she truly was. Uniformed men came and searched the house with guns, so I never did it again. I didn’t want her to find me, not yet. One day we would be together, but I couldn’t let her see me until she was ready. There was a man who came to visit her every Friday and Saturday night. He would put his arm around her and they would laugh together, but sometimes his voice was loud and intimidating. He would leave and slam the door behind him, and she would cry herself to sleep....

Mom, Dad, When you two separated She was torn apart She prayed everyday She wished during every birthday She loved Disney for that happy ending She believed in dreams Of holding Mommy's hands And holding Daddy's hands At the same time She waited Day after day Week after week Months to years Until that child faded But this adult remembers She became I And I fear And I swear To never make the same mistakes To never create an image Of a happy family And tear it apart If I could I would Tape it back together I know It's all She ever wanted (Poem by Yuumei )

Stop. No, don’t look. It just encourages them. You know who I’m talking about. Them . More specifically, her . Keep those eyes focused here, don’t look. Don’t even glance. Use your peripherals, because I know you see her. Just at the very edge of your vision? Glance to the left side of the monitor, but don’t glance beyond it. There, your peripherals should have picked up a bit more. You saw her in the corner, didn’t you? You saw her black hair billowing across her pale face, the loose nightgown she wears over her emaciated frame. She’s been there for a while, just waiting. That’s how they spend their time. The spirits of the damned. The ones unfit for heaven, yet avoiding hell. The ones who walk the Earth with their sins on their shoulders. They live in constant, insurmountable, indescribable pain. The story goes that when St. Peter takes pity on a soul who has committed a grave sin, like murder, rape, torture, cannibalism, or worse, he punishes that soul and sends them ...

As I write, my life is dwindling to nothing, but I need to share what I know. You ever read those stupid ritual pastas? The ones where if you light a candle and sacrifice a toddler at 12:02am then your soul will be torn away but you’ll live forever? This is kind of like that, but less pathetic – less unreal. It was midnight, and I’d stumbled in after a drunken night on the town. The stairs had presented a challenge, and by the time I’d desperately reached my bathroom, I was throwing up all over the place. Groggy and made tearful by my own state, I lifted my head, examining myself in the mirror and wiping away flecks of vomit. The light was off, but I could still see; had I not been so drunk, maybe that would’ve told me that something was wrong? I don’t think it matters, in any case. I think I’d still be dying even if I had run. There, in the mirror, was my shower. I’m dirt poor (only just graduated from university), so it was a filthy cubicle rather than a bath. And I noti...

My mattress is narrow, single sized with room for only myself. I used to have a lovely queen sized bed but that was before. How big is your bed? She asked me while we shared a bench and waited for the bus. I thought she might be soliciting me at first, but then she went on. Trapped by unwritten social conventions, I had to stay put and listen. Her eyes were bloodshot and the bags under them could have passed for bruises. It was clear she hadn’t slept for quite some time. She told me that we get used to luxury far too quickly. We take for granted the electric lights, the sturdy walls and security systems of our houses. The plush couches, the big, wide beds. Human beings have only lived like this for a very short amount of time. We forget that things weren’t always like this, that the world wasn’t always ours alone. There are stories of monsters out there in the dark, crawling on the fringes of our well-lit civilization. They want what we have. They have always wanted what we have and no...

For such a turning point in my life, the night I acquired a certain item is cemented in my mind only because of how mundane it was. I didn’t chance upon a dusty tome buried amidst a pile of mouldering books in a university library nor did I chance upon a madman with a basket of trinkets in a Bangladeshi backstreet. I was sat in my underwear, lit only by a dull blue glow from my computer monitor, browsing eBay for nothing in particular. The music in my ears fluctuated again, the soulful notes of Toxic by Britney Spears being ebbed away, replaced by a strange yet familiar concoction of static and oppressive silence. I rolled my eyes and removed my headphones, tapping them against my palm while muttering half-formed sentences expressing my distain for ever purchasing them. After a few minutes of tapping refused to exorcise the demons in my earpieces, I began to browse for a replacement. I then, on that most unassuming of nights, stumbled upon a posting that would have irrevo...

The little girl had appeared seemingly out of nowhere, at the end of the long row of apple trees. She wore a faded red dress, and looked about the same age as Susan. There weren’t many people in the orchard today; it was cloudy and chilly, and this was the first other kid Susan had seen all afternoon. Mommy was at the other end of the row of trees, picking busily, so Susan went to the girl. In just a few minutes, they were skipping along together, becoming friends almost instantly, in that way seven-year-old girls do…the little girl’s name was Kristen, and she told Susan she stayed at the orchard all the time. "There are lots of us here, actually", she said. "Kids have always loved this place…" Susan was puzzled. “Other kids, you mean? Here?” "Come on, I’ll show you!" They raced out of the trees, to a long, low shed. No-one was around at all, and in the gloomy afternoon light, Susan began to feel uneasy. Mommy was out of sight… "Down here…see?" S...

My girlfriend has a new friend. Raquel doesn’t have many friends, not that it bothers her. We both value quality over quantity, but I’m happy that she’s made a new friend. His name is David. I’ll admit, sometimes when she talks about him, I get jealous. But jealously is an awful trait so I push it away and just try and be happy for her. They seem to get on really well. According to Raquel, David is really clever. According to Raquel, David is really talented. According to Raquel, David is very thoughtful and profound. She tells me they talk about God and the Devil for hours. I try not to get jealous. As an atheist I’ve always found it hard to join in on her deep talks about God and religion. I met David last week. He seemed nice enough. He seemed okay. But there was something…something about him. I can’t put my finger on it…okay, okay, I can. There’s nothing wrong with him. It’s me. I’m jealous. David doesn’t really seem like Raquel’s type, but, I guess attraction can grow over time… B...

I hadn’t seen Codie in almost ten years. Out of my small group of friends in high school he had done the best since graduating. He got a job out west with some tech company then got married and had kids. I was eager to meet him again. It gets lonely in the little hick town we grew up in. The stuff that had once been entertaining to me now felt dull and tired without the ole’ gang. People give you weird looks when you hang out up town on a Friday night. That’s the realm of the young and naïve. A thirty year old gets labeled a “creep” real easy in this town. I don’t care though. We had our own place to hang out back in the day, and I still go down there once in a while just for the hell of it. I saw Codie walking down the trail lined with tall grass and paved with rocks and broken glass. He smiled and I felt the companionship I hadn’t fully experienced in years. Married life must have been good to him, because he had gained about 20 pounds. But his wide toothy smile set under thick glass...

I’ve always been a firm believer of teaching children about safety. Every night after her ABC’s we go over the dangers in the world around her. I quietly remind her of things like, not to cross the road on her own, not to touch the hot stove, not to stand too close to heaters and not to talk to strangers. But I make it especially clear, she is never to play games like hide and seek with adults she doesn’t know. After all, that’s how I found her in the first place. — Credits to: Karma4urthoughts

My grandmother grew up in the slums of Prohibition-era Chicago. Her family lived in a small house near the harbor, and one of her earliest memories was of a particularly hot summer when, seeking respite from the heat, she and her sister discovered a seldom-used section of boardwalk near an abandoned warehouse. Every night for several weeks, the two girls would make their way down to the docks and sit together on the edge of the pier as the sun went down. My grandmother vividly, and for a time fondly, recalled the feel of the seaweed between her toes as she and her sister dangled their feet into the murky water. It wasn’t until years later that she returned to the pier and found that the warehouse had been demolished. Curious, she made an inquiry with the Department of Planning and Development. Apparently, the warehouse had been owned for a time by the Mob, who was using it as a base of operations for a local prostitution racket. It had only been uncovered when an associate began ‘dispo...

We began feeling sick after the rains abated, and the backyard remained a slick muddy mess where the grass hadn’t grown back, and the foundation for our new in-ground pool filled to the height of my shins even though the concrete hadn’t yet been poured. Dad wanted us to accept that the illness was a cold we all happened to contract around the same time. I believed him, at first. Then my older brother reached a point where he’d vomit nearly every hour, and couldn’t even keep water in his system. No cold could make you do that, I thought. When Mom started puking all the time, too, Dad called in a doctor. She suspected we all suffered from arsenic poisoning. That something contaminated our water supply. Her suggestion didn’t make a lot of sense — we’d lived at the house for years without a problem before — but we were in no condition to disagree. We were brought to the hospital at the doctor’s insistence, but they didn’t find any arsenic in our systems. We didn’t even have a vitamin defic...

My mom thinks I’m cutting myself. Mom freaked out when she saw the cuts on my arms last month. She thought I was hurting myself. My stepfather was too much of a prick to tell her the truth. He stood in the corner, arms crossed, watching as she gripped me by the shoulders and tried to literally shake some sense into me. Even as she bawled her eyes out, holding me close to her and begging me not to hurt myself any more, the man kept his stupid ass mouth shut. He shot me this threatening look so I’d do the same. Mom set up an emergency counseling session. After a few weeks, when she saw that no new cuts had appeared, she wholeheartedly thanked the therapist for saving my life. Meanwhile, her husband did what he always does: he played dumb. She’ll be so disappointed in me tomorrow morning, when she finds her claw marks all over me again. It’d be so much easier if we tied her up on the full moon.

We’ve all seen the ads. Phone this number and fill out a few forms to become a human guinea pig. Experiments performed for the greater good or whatever. They make you sign all sorts waivers and such for insurance reasons. Always about money, but I guess that’s why I’m here; To get paid for voluntary medical bullshit. It’s worth it though. First is a full check up, blood, urine, x-rays, vision, dental, and everything else. Next is various shots of a clear liquid for the next couple of weeks followed by some the worst food I’ve ever eaten. They never tell me what the experiment is for and any questions I ask fall on deaf ears, so I assume they want accurate results instead of having placebo effects. 3 months in they tell me that things would be changing. I would be meeting the other volunteers to have a group discussion. We all sit down in a circle of chairs, taking turns talking about our experiences over the last couple of months. At the end of the meeting the doctors come in to tell u...

I lived in unit 1B in an apartment building. It was on the second floor, at the end of a hallway that leads to the other units, and I had the whole thing to myself. And for a while, it was pretty good. Quiet building, decent rent, no problems with the landlords or other tenants. But a couple of months ago, the unit right above me–1C–started to get noisy. It sounded like a little kid playing and stuff, running around and all that. But the weird thing is, it only happened at night, around 11pm or later. I ignored it for as long as I could, but I have to get up early for work, so eventually I had to say something. One night when the kid was really loud, probably around midnight, I went upstairs and stood at 1C’s door. Yup, he was definitely in there, running around and playing or something. I knocked on the door, and right away, the kid stopped running. I guess it was one of those times when kids get caught doing something bad, they freeze up and play dumb. I actually smiled when I though...