Elizabee Writes

Lost Soul I’m dead, but somehow alive, how? I know my body is gone, but I still have thoughts. All I am is thoughts, thoughts with no physical presence, no feeling. How am I alive? How do I function like this? I need a body, something physical to connect me to the world. If I inhabit another person, will I be gone? Will their brain take over and shut me out? I do not wish to find out, and besides, being in another body, well, I don’t think I could handle it, I wouldn’t be me. So what am I now? What shall I become? I’ve got it, I will become a form without a face. Physically connected to the earth but not in human form. My thoughts and memories will remain, but I will be something new, a being of pure water. Humans are mostly water right? How different can it be, being completely made of water? People will look at me strangely, maybe even be scared of me. I hope I can communicate with them somehow. I pray that my watery body will have a voice to let out my inner thoughts so I can ...

  Mighty Hand “I shall defeat thee foul beast,” the knight shouts to the monster snarling in front of him. He reaches for his sword and grabs for the handle. In his grip he expects to feel the solid metal of his blade, but instead feels a softness. “Wha…what is this?” The knight pulls from his sheath a stuffed light brown hand, connected to a long thin arm. The knight turns furiously, “SQUIRE! Where is my sword?!” In a fit of laughter that he desperately tries to contain, the squire responds, “I don’t know what you’re talking about my liege, it is in your hand.” “THIS,” the knight swings the stuffed toy around. As he does a squeaking noise comes from within, bringing the squire to tears of laughter. “This is not my sword, it is a child's play toy.” “No my liege, tis your sword that you have used many a time to slay vicious beasts.” The squire tries his hardest to sound serious but the knight is not amused. The beast lunges towards the knight. He quickly dodges out of the wa...

  White Mold Three friends walk through the house, headed towards the sauna, ready to enjoy a nice relaxing time of hanging out and watching movies in the hot tub. As they reach the wooden door one friend turns the knob expecting it to easily swing open, but it does not. The door is stuck. The second friend tries for a moment but quickly gives up. Then the third friend, sure that the door won't budge but full of curiosity, tries the handle. The knob turns and with one pull the door doesn’t move, but after another the door slides just a little. The three friends are excited knowing the door can be open. The third friend pulls again and the door opens. Inside they see the wooden walls are damp and covered in splotches of white mold. Their jaws drop. “Oh my-” the exclamation is stopped as the mold quickly spreads towards the friends. Within seconds they are covered entirely, now statues of mold. It quickly devours them, thriving off their warmth.  The door is now open, bu...

  Symphony of Tears On the padded daycare floor the babies lay, screaming, crying, and wailing. Music plays in the background, but their cries are the song, the symphony of tears. Some cry “feed me,” others “I’m tired,” and some simply crave a gentle soul to hold them. Their tears come together in a pool of sadness, one that we wish so desperately would dry. So many babies, and only two hands, whatever can we do to silence the symphony of tears. One at a time, we take them into care, providing them with their needs. A diaper, a bottle, then a long restful nap, as they quietly drift to sleep. All the little angels dream in their cribs as the lullabies keep them still. The room is calm, no more fear, just as the babies are silent, so is the symphony of tears. The End 11/10/22

  Longing for Freedom (Part 5) “Wow, I don’t really know where to go from here. I’ve been a slave for so long, I don’t really remember what it’s like to be free,” Jorn says with nervous breaths. Alania thinks for a moment before an idea pops in her head, “I know a place, follow me.” Alania quickly walks out of the alley, not even waiting for Jorn to respond. Jorn scrambles to his feet, trying to catch up to Alania before she goes out of view. As he walks trying to match her pace, he looks around the city, not wanting Reman or a guard to notice him. Alania however walks without a care in the world, seemingly not worried about Jorn whatsoever. “Alania, could you slow down? You might know where we are going but I don’t,” Jorn whisper yells, not wanting to draw attention in the crowd. Alania ignores his request and keeps walking at a brisk pace. Their small journey across the city ends at a tower, across a small bridge over a canal. Just as Jorn steps foot on the other side o...

  Longing for Freedom (Part 4) Jorn stays silent as Reman walks right next to him, but doesn’t seem to notice him. Reman leaves with huff, sure that Jorn had gone down that alley, but not able to find him. Jorn loudly releases his breath. “That was close,” the woman says to him. “Thank you,” Jorn says, turning to face the woman who has suddenly appeared behind him. “So why were you running from that guy?” the woman asks casually. “He is my slavemaster.” The woman’s face drops, “Oh…Was that Reman?” “Yes,” Jorn replies confused, “Do you know him?” “No but I’ve heard of him. His slave trade has ruined this city,” she says with a ferocity in her eyes.  Jorn lifts an eyebrow, “How?” “Nuro used to be a great city, with a booming population of reputable people. But the Baron has whored us out to Reman, using Nuro as a place for Reman to auction his slaves. That’s what Nuro is known for now. We are called the city of slaves. If our old Baron, rest his soul, were st...

  Longing for Freedom (Part 3) “And who might you be?” the guard asks. “Someone who doesn’t like their time wasted with stupid question,” Reman pulls out his sword from its sheath and points it to the guard, “Now open the gate.” “I’m sorry but I cannot allow you entrance unless you are expected by the Baron, and because I don’t know who you are, I cannot confirm if the Baron is-” The guard is cut off as Reman impales him with his sword, directly in the chest. The guard clutches at his wound before falling to his knees. Jorn stares in horror at the guard, “You killed him,” he whispers quietly, but Reman still hears. “Quiet slave! Or you’ll be next,” Reman says as he pulls the switch to open the gate. Jorn’s heart races quickly, he needs to be free of this hideous murderer. Before Reman can  put his sword back in its sheath, Jorn manages to grab it with his hands still bound, and cuts the belt that holds his chains. He is free from his slavemaster. Quickly he runs wi...