Just Write

Words fickle as sand, falling wherever the breeze tells them to go

No care is given for their result, so long as they arrive.


The Forgotten

We are the forgotten

Left to wallow alone

In the hope that we might forget ourselves

Forget all we had

For we had dreams




All since forgotten

No, not forgotten


Hush now it will be okay

Those words are meaningless

Nothing is okay

For we are the forgotten

Never to be seen

A plastic dummy pretending to speak our minds

When we lost those long ago

To the ones who forgot

We are the forgotten

Remembered only to forget the truth of our being


Fearless Failure, a poem

Failing bones of boys gone

Too far to see them resting now

One last touch, breath, sigh


Whispers of girls broken

Too loud to hear what they sing

One last touch, breath, sigh


Neglect of the kiss he holds

Too frail to find a replacement

One last touch, breath, sigh


Rejected eyes of adventurers close

Too strong to admit a fault

One last touch, breath, sigh


Hopeful hands open wide

Too brave to give up now

One last touch, breath, sigh.


Johnny Got Shot

Johnny Got Shot

Three, two, nope I can’t do it, not a chance in Hell. I’ll just have to get myself home and call Frankie. Frankie always knows best, I doubt he’s seen this before, but still, he’ll know what to do.

Jeez that hurt more than I expected, and now blood is pouring out from where the bugger shot me. Man I wish I had a phone. Why didn’t I listen to Mindy? She said, “Johnny you’ll regret it, everyone has one these days, what if you get shot in the leg?” Okay, so she didn’t say that last part, but imagine if she did?  That would have been funny. Actually, no, no it wouldn’t. This is so far from funny that I am now laughing hysterically as I drag my limp bleeding leg through the dusty path. Just what every open wound needs, dust.

If I had taken the arrow out I would have bled out there and then, back there, with the roses and those blue ones, I can never remember what they’re called. My mum always used to pick them and put them in the kitchen window. They were crawling with bugs, but she never seemed to mind, I always thought it peculiar.

An arrow in the leg is always better than being dead, that’s a saying, right? Well it should be, because it’s true. Who wants to be dead? Then again, who wants an arrow in their leg? I sure as Hell don’t.

I was just wandering through the way, and bang, the psychopath shot me. Okay, so it was less of a wander and more of a run, but who needs details? I have an arrow in my leg, what more do you need to know? It hurts, and now that I’m thinking about it even more it hurts even more, I need to take my mind off of it. Wow I feel woozy. I thought keeping the darn thing in would keep me plugged up? Turns out that was a stupid thought.

Come on Johnny walk faster, faster. It’s more of a crawl really. If he’s still behind me he’ll have an easy job of finding me, there’s a trail of my blood thick as my arm behind me, any fool could track me.

I used to shoot, when I was younger. Say nine or ten, I only did it for a little while. I stopped when my dad ran off with the waitress from the restaurant that sold the good peach pie. I love peach pie, but now it carries with it a bitter undertone of abandonment and resent. Still, I eat it every Friday night.

I wonder if mum still puts those blue flowers in the kitchen window. When I get home I think I’ll call her, it’ll be nice to hear her voice again, to tell her that I have been missing her, and that, well, I love her. I suppose I should probably apologise too, you know, for stealing from her.

What? When my dad left I didn’t know what to do with myself, my head was all over the place, and when Frankie told me to sneak the Mars into my pocket it only took the one time to get me addicted. That’s what got me into this mess, stealing. If I hadn’t have stolen from mum I wouldn’t have had to leave home, and I wouldn’t have ended up in my sorry excuse of an apartment sleeping with the roaches, and I wouldn’t have wandered through this dreary little village and tried to make off with a prize chicken, and I wouldn’t have been shot in the leg. So, if you think about it, this is Frankie’s fault.

I wonder if Frankie has ever sewn anyone up before. I know that he’s resuscitated a few people, he’s a hero around our parts, people don’t see him the way I do. Not many people know about his stealing, they don’t realise that a janitor’s wage couldn’t have afforded him such a hot lifestyle. They all see me though, they always have. I’ve got a rubbish poker face, that’s my problem. That, and the fact I listened to Frankie.

I’ll never forget my mother’s face when she found out. Oh the veins on her forehead almost jumped out and strangled me she was that mad. It was only a couple hundred quid, I needed a new bike, mine only had one wheel. Where was one wheel going to get me? She always went on at me to get a job, but how could I get to a job with one wheel on my bike. Slowly. And I don’t do slowly. Well, I am doing now, but I only have one leg.

I can almost see the road, man it’s far away, but it’s so close, it’s one of those what do you call thems? We learnt about them in English, and when I got home I told my mum about them, but she was too busy crying to take notice. She always cried, especially after dad left, I don’t remember seeing her smile. Boy I wish she was here now, she’d know what to do. When I get out of this mess I’m going home, home home.

Come on Johnny, not far now, I’m almost at the road. Oh man, things just got a whole lot woozier. Is it getting darker out here, or am I about to pass out?

The Wrong Road

This is a short I wrote last Halloween, but not many people got to see it. As I’m currently getting back into the swing of things, I’m going to be re-uploading some old work from my now off-line website. Enjoy!


The Wrong Road

Blood spills around her

Steadily her heart beats now

Death is all she knows


Liv tapped aimlessly at her phone as the frozen blur of a message she had received taunted her. She jabbed at the home button, before she thrust it into her pocket and let out a sigh. Her dad would have to wait for a reply.

“Come on,” she uttered, looking up and down the now empty street.

Kyle had said he would pick her up at half past four, and looking at her watch she saw that he was almost an hour late. With another sigh she shuffled her feet, and rubbed her hands together.

Her mum and dad would be sat in the hall with her little brother, waiting with bowls and bowls of candy and sweets, for the trick-or-treaters that so rarely passed their house. Stood beneath the buzzing streetlight she wished she was with them.

After a final look up and down the abandoned road, she threw her bag over her shoulder, and started to walk. She took out her phone again, but it was still frozen on the same message.

Hot chocolate, and an overflowing bowl of peanuts with your name on them, waiting for you. Love Dad. X

She smiled and looked up into the black sky. Half a moon lounged there, surrounded by glittering stars. Liv had always loved the stars, since she was a child they made her feel safe, and no matter how dark it was, if there were stars she told herself that she could find her way home.

Ahead of her she could see headlights fractured by the opening to the woods that lay beside the road.

“Kyle,” she said in a breath. The thought passed through her mind that he had been in an accident, and without a second thought she started to run towards the lights. “Kyle,” she shouted, straining her voice so that he might hear her.

She skittered to a halt as she saw the car, it wasn’t Kyle’s, she didn’t know whose it was as it was empty. The driver side door was open, and the keys were swaying in the ignition.

She peered through the windows of the car, and stood beside it for a moment. She couldn’t call the police, and she didn’t want to shout, in fact she wished she never had. Regret pulsed through her, before fear took its place. She looked back in the direction from which she had come, and then ahead to the road she had been heading towards. She swallowed hard and continued on ahead.

“People stop to go to the toilet all of the time,” she uttered to herself, keeping her voice low. The sound of her voice settled her, and she shook off what fear had found her.

Her phone began to ring and her heart hammed in her chest. She fumbled around and answered, cursing having the volume on so loud.


“Where are you?” he asked. “I’m outside.”

She looked back, and rolled her eyes. “I started to walk, come meet me.”

Within minutes she could hear the steady rattle of Kyle’s old car. He pulled up beside her and motioned for her to get in.

“You didn’t mention the abandoned car on the phone,” he said, as I threw my bag in the back seat, and quickly put on my seatbelt.

I shrugged. “What is there to say, someone stopped to relieve themselves? I’m sure it’s all fine.”

He raised his brows and looked in his rear-view mirror. “I don’t know, maybe we should call the police?”

Liv nodded, and dialled 999.

Kyle froze beside her. “Liv,” he said. “Liv, look.”

She looked up into the mirror and her breath caught in her throat.

“Drive,” she whispered. “Drive, Kyle,” she said, raising her voice, as she dug her fingers into his leg.

With mindless grace the shadow cloaked in grey crept closer to Liv and Kyle’s car.

“Kyle, why aren’t you driving?” Liv turned to Kyle and shook him. “Drive, why aren’t you driving?” she asked, her voice was strained, desperate.

Liv’s nails buried deeper into Kyle’s thigh, and blood pooled beneath them. Her teeth cut through her lips, and she could taste a coppery warmth in her mouth. Yet she barely noticed any of it, as a voice, frozen in the bitter grasp of the October night, whispered between them, “Yes, Kyle, why are you not driving?”

Neither of them could say a word. Kyle’s eyes were staring through the mirror, through the reflection he saw there, and into nothing. Liv was clinging onto Kyle, whilst trying to keep her heart from beating out of her chest.

Ice-cold fingers wrapped around their throats, and she began to laugh. The grip loosened around Liv’s neck as laughter continued to bubble from her lips. She took in a rugged breath, and reached for the door handle. With all that she had left she pushed open the door, tore her seatbelt out of the car, and jumped out onto the road.

Her feet found their balance and she ran. She headed towards the trees, slamming her hands against them to propel herself deeper into the darkness that surrounded her.

The world around her fell silent, for all but a tiny stream that flowed at her feet. She knelt down and took a moment to breathe. With weariness she looked at her hands and saw Kyle’s blood, blood that stained her fingertips. She plunged her hands into the water and held in a cry. After a moment she fell back and dragged her frozen hands through her hair.

Kyle, she had left Kyle behind with the phantom, the demon.

Leaning forward her phone slipped from her pocket, and as she moved to pick it up she caught a glimpse of herself in the stream. Her face was paler than the moon, and her cheeks were painted with dirt and blood. Her focus on her image was hazy, until shocking white eyes opened, and a small, sly smile gleamed in the water’s unforgiving reflection.