The Novella Life of Illuscia Nester Himawari

I hand him the envelope as soon as I’ve closed the passenger door. “Count it. It’s all there.” He raises an eyebrow. “Good morning to you too.” The stack of bills is counted in no time, which doesn’t surprise me. He’s probably done this several times before. A slight nod of his head indicates it’s the correct amount. “Dude, I gotta ask you: are you 100% sure you wanna do this?” “Yes. My mind is made up. I can’t live with her any more. She’s cold, demanding, and controlling, but I can’t leave her, either, because I’ll lose everything if I do. I’d rather burn in hell.” He raises a hand. “All right, all right, I got ya. I just wanna make sure because once it’s done, it can’t be undone.” “I’m aware of this.” “And you can’t do this yourself…” “I told you: I’ve tried but keep losing my nerve.” He shrugs. “Okay then. So let’s go through this once more: dinner’s at 6 sharp. I ring the doorbell at 6:05. Then one clean shot to the head, execution style.” “Yes, please. Quick, and hopefully painle...

Frankenstein. I won’t say I don’t share his interest, because I do. My fascination, however, is more of a medical one. Using dead organs and muscle and tissue built around a skeleton to create life? Seemed impossible, but I always kept an open mind. My colleagues would never agree to work with me on this conceptually flawed experiment, but Peter Goldstein had the funds to let me work toward my dream. He gave me the money when I asked, and I did all the work: finding fresh bodies, harvesting the organs and muscle and tissue and bones, assembling the pieces, finding the chemical mixture to bring the dead tissue back to life once more. Years of work to find the perfect ingredients. But I came across a bit of a problem, so I requested Peter’s presence at my lab. “This is… difficult, to say the least. I have most of everything, but there are some pieces that I can’t take from the usual corpses. I need to get them from a living specimen. I need-“ “Say no more,” Goldstein interrupted, holding...

When I was seven, I had a best friend named John. Every night John would ask to stay over at my house, of course I said yes. But as a normal seven year old, I got bored of doing the same thing. So I asked John if we could spend the night at his house instead of mine. A look of fear flashed in his eyes, and he hesitated before saying no, I obviously begged and pestered him before he finally said yes. Throughout the day leading up to me sleeping over, John had been very quiet and nervous. After school, I went home to get my clothes and toothbrush, and John had begged me if we could please just spend the night at my house, I laughed and joked around that he just didn’t want me to see how messy his room was. The night had been going good, we had stayed up till 1 AM and I was getting sleepy, so I had asked John if we could go to sleep. He gave me a nervous look again but nodded his head. As I was getting into my sleeping bag, John turned up the TV as loud as it could possibly go and just st...

In the wee hours of the night when I've had too much caffeine I usually find myself doing those lame personality quizzes that people do on Facebook. I'm sure you've done a few yourself; "What element are you?", "What classic horror villain are you?", "What was your profession in your past life?", that sort of thing. You can usually tell what it's going to give you just by what answers you select, but whatever, it's a way to pass the time. Tonight is like most nights. It's late, I'm bored, and I'm surfing the web. The combination of an excessive amount of Dr. Pepper and a few bowls of some decent weed means I'm not going to bed anytime soon, but I'm probably not going to get anything done, either. I guess I could clean my apartment, but it's not like I have anyone to impress. I've been single for seven months now and I don't have any roommates, and I don't entertain much. I moved out here from my homet...

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Not everything falls into your plan Maybe luck just wasn't on my side I don't know why it's you that I love Maybe it's better to let you go It's not fair, not fair, oh, for him/her This isn't fair, isn't fair, oh, for me It's not fair for you to ask If I love you too It's not fair, not fair, oh, for him/her You never tried to understand me The love you proclaimed, you never show And the moment I am lost A burden you never tried to lift It's not fair, not fair, oh, for him/her This isn't fair, isn't fair, oh, for me It's not fair for you to ask If I love you too You are not mine And I am a coward Admitting my love for you A thousand times I tried to say it when you're with me You are not mine And you know it You are not mine (Loosely translated from a Malaysian song sung by Yuna )

Dear Diary, I fucking knew he was cheating on me. I fucking knew it and I still can’t fucking believe it, I am so goddamn upset. My boyfriend of four years, FOUR FUCKING YEARS, is cheating on me. I can’t fucking begin to tell you how upset I am. Let me start by giving you some background. My boyfriend and I first met four years ago at the mall. I was working at a Pretzel stand at the time, and when he walked past me I knew it was love at first sight. He was the one for me. I couldn’t believe how much I loved him. He was tall, he had straight black hair, and when I learned his name I nearly fainted. Aaron. The name I had always dreamed of as a child, and had always wanted to be with. It sounds stupid, being so attracted to a name, but it was something I’d always felt. Anyway, pretty soon we had moved in together. His house was beautiful and charming. It was only one bedroom one bath, but with a big attic and basement and a beautiful yard out front. It was the perfect pla...

I have problems sleeping. I always have. Some nights I find myself staring at the ceiling for hours before I can drift off. The only thing that helps me fall asleep is the T.V. I turned it on to a boring channel and lowered the volume so that it’s no louder than a faint whisper. It doesn’t help me doze off immediately, but if it’s not on I can’t sleep at all. I don’t even watch the T.V . during the day time anymore, I’m too busy. It’s strictly a sleep aid. Since the first night I set it to a low volume and dimmed the brightness way down, I haven’t messed with the settings since. I just turn it on when I get into bed and off when I wake up. Tonight is just one of those nights where I can’t fall asleep even with the help of the T.V. I’ve been tossing and turning for hours just trying to hold my eyes shut and let the dull whispers of the T.V. lull me to sleep, but it’s not working. I don’t have work tomorrow so I decided I would flip through the channels and find someth...

TRIGGER WARNING: SEXUAL ABUSE I was hanging out with friends. In the midst of our whirlwind of random debates, I asked them if they’d ever died in their dreams-if they had ever been full on dead-to which they each said no. Their flow of reasoning went in the direction of our brains being either unwilling or unable to perceive ours elves as dead. I waved the topic off altogether when someone changed the subject, not throwing another thought at it. Three months later, I dreamed I was dead. I was on my cell, driving on an unknown street. My dad was chewing my ass out about something, only he wasn’t my real life dad. Not such a big deal; I’ve had plenty of dreams where made up people played the role of a friend or family member, or were simply someone I knew in the dream world, someone conjured up. He was really giving it to me, going on and on and on. He was so loud, my ear throbbed. I was responding, but inaudible, as if I was on mute. I was so distracted by his words, w...

Of course nobody believes in Snuff films. It's just too sick to be real, right? Nobody in their right mind would actively produce evidence against them like that, let alone make money off of it. Al Goldstein, publisher of Screw magazine, has a standing offer of one million American dollars for the one who can find a real, commercially sold Snuff movie. The offer has been in place for years and nobody has claimed it. And for good reason. I mean, you don't buy a carton of cigarettes and then sell it for half or a third of the price, do you? Besides, as far as I know, nobody has ever taken one of these films home, seeing as they aren't sold as everybody thinks. That's too much of a risk. You pay to view a screening of it. Nobody ever held a copy of these films, except of course for the few people who make money off of them. As far as I know, there are only three, all male. Actually, the only females involved in these movies are the victims. Not all movies ...

The sweetest melodies are those sung from the heart The softest harmonies are when two souls mend together Why then do people say it's love that tears them apart? When it's with love that you can stand the stormy weather When I met you, Spring was here, and the birds were nesting I looked into your soft eyes and saw the prettiest smile Heaven pulled down her veil and offered her most sacred blessing I've met an angle, I couldn't help but to smile Sitting by the pool of life, reflecting upon its surface I think of others and I get a little ripple I think of you, and a wave swells, spraying my face You said you wouldn't cry, but I see the tears start to trickle Some people don't believe in love at first sight Obviously they haven't seen you Drifting on love's endless blissful flight I'm so glad I met you (Poem by Mike Lewis)

A few years ago I was walking to my car from class when I noticed a cute girl with straight but unkept black hair wandering around campus and constantly looking to her phone as if it was a map. I approached and said "you look pretty lost, need some assistance?" She gave me a big smile and told me she didn't go here but had to pick up her fr iend who had locked herself out of her car. I made a lame joke about how lost she looked and she got a kick out of it, as her laughter died she asked if she could borrow my phone because hers had died. That was a lie, she had just been looking at her phone before I approached her and I could see the screen was on. I didn't object though, she was cute.  Later that night I noticed a new name was in my contacts. "Jess wink emoticon " I made the connection right away and started texting her. One thing led to another and we had begun dating. You'd think we were the happiest couple in the world if you saw us on o...

There was a Sultan who loved to play tricks on people and derived pleasure from seeing people tortured from his cruel jokes. He likes to disguise himself as a commoner and goes around looking for his victims so that he can play his sick jokes on. One day, while disguised as a traveller, he found a drunken beggar who wished more in the world to have the destiny to become a sultan. The Sultan knew he found the perfect victim. He made him drunk to the point of unconsciousness, took him back to the palace, cleaned, shaved, dressed and perfumed him and let him lie on the bed while he disguised himself as one of the palace guards to watch his joke in play. As expected, when the beggar woke up to find himself in the sultan's palace and everyone calling him 'Your Majesty' and all that, he was driven crazy, and the Sultan went almost mad with laughter as he watched the poor beggar trying to figure out whether it was a dream or not. The subjects had no choice but to play along with t...

“In two miles take exit 19 for Valley Park Drive South.” Siri chirped from my sister’s phone. “Charlotte, turn that off. I know where I’m going.” “You sure about that? I mean…it has been a couple decades, Mark.” “Please, like I could ever forget where Adventure Valley is. Come on, we spent every summer of-“ “There it is!” I swerved briefly into the oncoming lane as Charlotte thrust her arm in front of my face to point excitedly out the window. “There’s Adventure Valley! Oh my God, what ride is that? That coaster, it was called ‘Steel’ something, right? No, no, wait, that’s Mayhem Mountain, isn’t it?” I gently pushed my sister’s arm out of my face and back over to her seat. I couldn’t fault her for her excitement while I was trying so hard to control my own giddiness. It felt like we were kids again, yelling and bouncing in the back seat of my parent’s car as the first shining rails and wooden planks of the park’s roller coasters came into view above the treetops. “...