For as long as I could remember, I had always felt different. I never knew how or why, but there was always this indescribable feeling lingering within me, as if something was buried deep within and waiting to break free. I knew very little of my past, and of my biological parents. My adoptive mother said I was left at her doorstep with a cryptic letter pleading with her to act as if I were her niece whose parents had just died in a car crash. Mum had followed those instructions and never revealed the truth to anyone, not even her closest friends. My biological mother had said in her letter that her life was in danger, and that I should be as far away from her as possible until the time is right. I never understood what that meant. When would I even know when that time would come? It was a question that stuck in my mind for years before something strange happened. One day, I was walking home from work when I was mugged by three men. I overpowered them and defended myself with ease, but...
A man sat alone in the corner of a crowded diner, sipping a steaming cup of coffee as the TV behind the counter switched between channels before stopping at the evening news. As the camera cut from the news anchor to a notorious politician, the man in the corner sighed into his cup, stirring up a wave of steam that would’ve singed anyone else’s eyes, but his remained transfixed on the screen, glaring through the heat. The politician spewed out what he was known for: misinformation and blatant lies. But while many people saw through those absurd accusations, there were still a substantial number of people who absorbed his words without a second thought. It was not long before a single argument between two tables spiralled into an all-out brawl. The man gulped the remainder of his coffee and quickly paid for his order to escape the mayhem that was unravelling before him. Speeding through the shadows at an inhuman pace, the man walked through the street as a wave of water before turning t...
For as long as we’ve lived here on top of this hill, only one other house stood nearby; and it stood still in time, abandoned and alone for the thirteen years I’ve been alive. Whenever I’d ask Mom and Dad about it, they would simply say it had been that way for as long as they could remember. Their responses were often rushed, and dismissive of further inquiry. My experience questioning neighbours about the strange house was similarly strange, although they seemed more afraid than reluctant. “Stay away from that place… Especially you. That house is bewitched.” That is the most I got from Anna, the oldest lady in our neighbourhood. Her statement made me wonder just what had happened there. “Why me especially?” I wished Mom and Dad would open up to me about it, but they dodged my questions each time. One night, I stared away into the distance, looking at that abandoned house for perhaps an hour, when, suddenly, I noticed a light illuminate a room on the upper floor. It wasn’t something I...
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