The Novella Life of Illuscia Nester Himawari

I heard a banging on my door this afternoon while I was watching the news about the unexpected small earthquake that just happened. When I looked out to check, I was completely dumbfounded to see my friend, Danny, standing outside my front door with mud stains all over his body. He stared at me with his smoky gray eyes and with the hoarsest voice, he said:  ”I don’t wanna go back there, man.” As soon as this happened, I dialed our closest friend, Irah. While it rang, Danny stood with no fear on my terrace which, I think, would alarm some of the bypassing people. Finally, Irah answered and told him that Danny snuck out of jail again. Irah hung up and after a few minutes, he was there with us. As Danny told us the story of how he got out, somebody knocked on my door and claimed it was the police. Danny hid upstairs frantically, leaving muddy footprints on my well-carpeted floor and stairs before we opened the door. ”Good afternoon, officer.” , I politely said. ”We’re looking for Mr....

I had a dream last night. It was the kind that seems real right up to the point where you wake up. Some things were strange about it…certain things were really strange about it, but it never occurred to me that it might not actually be happening. I’m still not prepared to say that it didn’t happen. I’m not spiritual and I don’t really understand stuff like that. I just feel like I’ve been somewhere and now I’m back, and I know something really happened when I woke up…and I think while I was asleep too. I went to bed last night with a strange feeling. We all remember times when we felt like we were being watched, but this was more than that. I felt like there was someone there with me, but still I couldn’t keep from falling asleep. I don’t exactly remember the beginning of the dream. The first thing I remember was starting at my house and walking. I was just walking down the road. All of my neighbors’ houses were gone. I was just on a long, empty road and there was no one aro...

Calling at: Hazel Grove, Chinley, Edale, Hope, Bamford, Hathersage, Grindleford, Dore & Totley, Sheffield. Thirty-four trains a day, except on Sundays which only has twenty-five. When travelling from Stockport to Sheffield, there are two incredibly long, dark tunnels as the train passes through the Pennines. Just you, the sound of the track, and pitch black windows. Your company through the darkness is your own reflection. You can try to see things out the window, press your nose against the cold glass, but you won’t. I know the route well, though there is one journey I will never forget. Since I flunked my A-Levels at nineteen years old, I’ve been working for security companies. Five years of patrolling, guarding, and watching CCTV footage. “You must have some great stories!” my friends ask me. Well, I can tell you with full sincerity that cock all happened across the expanse of my career to date, until the day I lost my last job. My last employer had tasked me to to review the h...

Everything happens in due time, that’s what I’ve always believed in. I’ve always believed in that one day where everything changes, where everything would be drastically improved, for better or for worse. But only in due time. I don’t remember much of that day for me, but I remember holding my baby girl and smiling at her as her eyes scrunched up in the harsh hospital light. And I knew, on that day, that she would make everything change. She would make me famous, she would give me a name. And with that, I threw her out the window. It wasn’t that loud of a splat, and it most certainly wasn’t her screaming her head off. I looked down to see a shower of broken glass twinkle down over her mottled form and the lady covered in entrails and blood. It was beautiful. And so, here I am, famous as I can be, in a nice grey cell with lots and lots of friends to talk to. They all know me, and so do the people outside of my happy little home. I get daily meals, and I get to chill for 90% of my day. ...

As an only child, my parents usually had one of them at home with me at any given time, I was rarely left alone. However, all that changed when I turned thirteen, and they deemed me old enough to be left alone. To celebrate this, a few nights after my birthday they decided to go out for the night, the first time they had done so in years without worrying about hiring a babysitter, leaving me alone to play the video games I had received a few days prior. As soon as they shut the door, I made my way over to the fridge to polish off the remains of my birthday cake. On the door, waiting for me, was a sticky note in rushed cursive writing, “Please wash the dishes for when we get back -Mum xx” I threw it in the bin, shaking my head and wondering if this was the first of many sticky notes to come and looked at the dishes in the sink. I held up a large plate, already half submerged in soapy water, and inspected, disgusted, at the baked on grime, and dropped the filthy plate back in the sink. ...

Footsteps aren’t an uncommon thing to hear when you’re sitting in a basement, so I think nothing of it when I hear quiet thuds coming from my upstairs hallway. I just assume it’s my brother, and continue doing whatever pointless little thing I was doing at the time. They go on for another couple minutes, and I’m starting to get pissed off. They keep getting louder and louder and I sigh, wondering what the hell my brother’s doing this late at night. I sit there, because it’s impossible to focus with the racket. I mean, it sounds like someone’s power walking all over my main floor. I sit there and listen as the thumps get faster and wilder. They just keep moving, almost starting to form a rhythm. They move even faster and get even wilder and they’re thumping all over my main floor. I realize that whatever this is, it can’t be human. No human can move like that. “What the fuck?!” I finally yell. After that, all the noises stop. Everything is quiet for a moment, and then I hea...

I. Well, I’ve finished my education and learned everything there is to learn about singing, and despite the difficulties, I’ve found myself at the heart of Music City and struggling to get my material out there. I haven’t been able to meet with any labels and I’m barely surviving on gig money. I have an audition at a new place that’s opening down by Broadway Street. It’s a Vegas style night club, very yuppie. I can sing, but I also have to dance with the other girls. My first song will be “Moulin Rouge.” They were impressed with my audition, and they may pay me for some choreography ideas. Maybe I can get some hours there. Regardless, times are hard for everyone right now. Any day that people hear me sing is a good day. My voice is lucky, and I’m so excited for the future that I simply had to start writing my feelings down in something other than song form. II. I learned to bartend and made some good tips this evening. I also sang with the band, and even though everyone th...