Elizabee Writes

  Coma (Part 1) “Ma’am, I’m sorry but there has been a complication,” the doctor tells the woman lying in bed. “What kind of complication?” she nervously asks. “It would be to difficult to explain in the short amount of time we ha-” “Short amount of time?” the woman says, panicked, “Am I dying or something?” The doctor pauses, “Yes, and to save you, we are going to have to put you into an induced coma immediately. You won’t be dead, but in a very deep sleep.” “You will be able to wake me up again right? When the complication with the syndrome or whatever is fixed?” “We should be able to, yes,” the doctor says with lack of confidence. “Should?” she questions his choice of words. “There is always a risk inducing a coma, but most likely you will come out of it just fine.” The woman takes a deep breath, processing all this new information, “Even if I’m asleep at least I’ll be alive,” she says as a pep talk for herself. “So you are ok with this procedure? We do need ...

  Let the Child See The child reaches its little hand towards your face. It has only one goal, it wants your eyes. Its dark soulless pits contain nothing, and the child wishes to see. You have made a mistake in holding this child, as you are now trapped, you cannot put it down. Its small fingers with tiny baby claws reach for your eye sockets, ready to gouge your eyes out. You try to turn your face away but the child can squirm, forcing itself to reach your eyes.  There is nothing you can do, the child reaches both its soft little hands and grabs at your eyes. Ripping them from your head, it places them in its own empty sockets. You are sure the child is so beautiful with your eyes, if only you could see it for yourself. The End 8/14/22 (Authors Note: What the **** did I just write?!?!)

  Color Storm The color storm raged, swirling splotches of pure red, blue, and yellow grew larger and larger. Starting first as a small speck, nothing larger than a pea, quickly expanded outward. It was hard to see inside the storm, a thick fog blocked almost all vision. All that could be seen was the change in color as a different cloud blew in.  Although intertwined together, the colors stayed separate, as though they were at war,  each trying to dominate as much land as they could while remaining separate from their foes.  As the colorful clouds continued their battle, they grew larger and larger, until they covered the entirety of the earth. What was once a beautiful blue marble, was now a gas giant of primary color.  The clouds were not toxic, earth was still livable…barely. People wondered how big the storm would grow, would it stop at the edge of the atmosphere or just keep going? Speculations went around that the cloud would cover the entire universe...

  The Patient Wind The wind wanted her, but could not have her as she was. From the moment she came into this world it longed for her, with a passionate urge driving it towards her, it needed to have her.  The wind knew as long as she was bound to the ground, the two could never be one, but the wind would never give up, it would find a way to have her forever. No matter how long it took, the wind did not care, it was patient, having been there for so long, time was of no concern. As the years passed by, the wind followed the girl wherever she went, brushing her with gusts of wind meant only for her. She was often confused why the wind only blew on her, avoiding everyone around her. ‘Did she have some sort of magnet, drawing the wind closer to herself and away from others?’ she would think to herself. The wind’s wait eventually came to an end, the time had come, now was the wind’s chance. As the woman climbed the side of a mountain she stopped, looking over a cliff, admir...

  The Tree Beast Three friends lie on the hillside late at night, gazing at the stars above, hoping to see one fly brightly across the peaceful night sky. As they lie in the damp grass, they begin to hear strange noises coming from the large apple tree to their right. They quickly ignore it, writing it off as just apples falling to the ground, hitting branches on their journey down. Little do they know, they should be much more fearful than they currently are.  The apple tree to their right is no normal tree, but a vicious beast. The tree is very protective of its fruit. Earlier in the day a family of deer had stopped by, eating the apples off the tree. This enraged the tree monster, but unlike the friends, the deer got away at the first signs of movement. The tree senses the friend's presence and readies its attack. The noises the friends had been hearing were not apples falling, but the old tree limbs slowly moving into position. Like a predator stalking its prey, the tr...

  Nap Lines “Trace trace trace trace trace,” he frantically whispers, running a black marker across his arm, “Must remember the pattern, cannot forget!” The arrangement of red lines was quickly fading, soon to be no more. “No no no no NO!” a small line had disappeared, one he had yet to trace. He quickly ran his marker over the now vanished line, getting it as accurate as he could from how he remembered it. “Ok one here, and here, oh and a tiny one here,” he mumbled, finishing the last details. “Ok, ok, is that all of them?” he looked over his arm, twisting it in every direction he could think of. He smiled, seeing no red lines that weren’t already covered by his marker. “Perfect. Years later, as the man was walking through a store on a hot summer's day, a young child saw his arm tattooed with the lines. “Why do you have lines on your arm?” the boy sweetly asked.  “These are nap lines. I managed to catch mine and trap them on my arm forever,” he said, making it sound l...

  Nonsensical Rhymes To print a dime must take some time but is it even real. Who can say, no one can tell, is that the sound of a seal?  Kittens jumping up and down, leather poles don’t make a sound. Try to stay away from it, don’t be sorry, don’t be quick.  Carry on my drafty son, cut the cradle and have some fun. Tulips follow you day and night, it’s not the shadows that cause a fright. Pecking at the silver mill, rabbits roaring on the hill. Slippery slopes cannot doze, is that a child picking a rose? Meaning has it? No there’s none. It is night, and I am done. The End 8/9/22