(358 words) She didn't want to wake up.
(895 words) Juliette's eyes spring open in a panic. The vein along her neck throbs, pumping the blood hard and fast. A firework of pain explodes inside of her mind and her spine wrenches, thrusting her chest towards the sky.
Imogen rolled the crochet hook between her thumb and forefinger, chewing the inside of her cheek. Her grandmother's stitches were so precise, so intentional; she couldn't help but worry her clumsy fingers would ruin them.
Beneath her fingers, Percie felt the spine of her book crack and peel. She wondered how many times she had read it, but the only sufficient answer she could arrive at was 'not enough.' Outside, a quiet night symphony was building. A light howl in the wind whispered desires through the air and crackled the crisp autumn leaves that dangled carelessly from branches, plotting their winter descent.
(815 words) 'Tis the season to be spooky!
(100 words) There are things that go bump in the night. They don't live under our beds or in our closets. They live inside of us.
(475 words) - I'm rifling through my shrinking sac of supplies, listening to the fire pop and crackle behind me. Then I hear it. A crackle, sure, but not of the ember variety... someone is behind me.