And The Walls Came Tumbling Down…

The word of the week is club, and this one, while fictional, treads a little closer to reality in points than maybe it should.  I think we have all been here a time or two, and this is the story of our narrator that gets a little overwhelmed by all the things they need to get done…


I started the day, the week, the month even, with a plan, and then life snuck up behind me with a club, bashing me over the head a few times.

I can’t blame reality, as in retrospect, as everyone else knew that I had bitten off more than I could chew, and scheduled more social engagement than any introvert would tolerate.

It took a single addition for what I felt were carefully laid plans, but were more like block activities stacked precariously by a toddler, to come tumbling down around my feet.

With too many options to choose, no way to prioritize, and a panic that it all had to be done now, I did what I do best in these situations, that is to say, nothing at all.

Paralyzed with indecision the tasks piled up, becoming an insurmountable wall of things to do, so high that I could no longer see anything, even that things that bring me joy.

I reacted at first like the toddler who stacked my to do list, crying, and then I threw half my list out, as I accomplished the rest slowly, in mourning for the tasks that wouldn’t be, in large part, due to untreated ADHD.

Hello Hello, it’s ADHD awareness month, which I just realized, because it snuck up on me again, even though I knew it was coming, and is the same month every year…wonder why?

True Love’s Gift

This was written for the challenge on the Where Words Grow discord server. The challenge, less than 400 words on Valentine’s Day in any way shape of form. This is my response, a couple in love, a ritual murder, and the ultimate sacrifice. Warnings for death, murder, general ick. I know this is off season, but I wasn’t allowed to post until the challenge was over so I decided Halloween month was the next best thing.


There was something powerful about standing over a man whose whole heart was in your hands.  He had knelt before her, trusting her to take care of him, to do him no wrong, and she would have sooner tore out her own heart than betray him

She stepped into the ritual circle, blood still dripping warm between her fingers, and made the offering of her true love’s gift.  She felt the power burning its way through her, more excruciating than anything she had ever experienced and knew that it was working.

As quickly as the pain had started, it was over, and in a flash her hands were empty.  She collapsed to her knees, energy gone, and crawled to the still form of her lover.  She placed her right hand over the hole in his chest, and the left over her still flat stomach. The end of his story had become the beginning of hers, a Valentine’s day gift of a life, and really could anything be more romantic.

Turning Over a New Leaf

The Faeries are back, when a middle aged woman going on a walk makes a rather startling discovery. Its not all so straight forward though, how do you explain to your husband of 20 years that you rather spend your days with the Fae, than taking care of your daughter, what will he think?


She picked a leaf up from the ground and quickly suspected that somewhere between where she left her house and reached this point, she had lost her mind.

There was no other explanation for picking up the perfect leaf to press, and finding, what appeared to be a fairy beneath it.

The sight sparked something within her, a fragment of a memory. Seeing things like this, fairies, everywhere, and she shook her head to clear it. She had such an active imagination as a child, but now she was an adult, and seeing things like this as an adult…

The leaf shook, and she realized it was her hand that was shaking. Oh, oh no, she had a brain tumor. While there wasn’t a history of mental illness in her family, there was one of cancer, and there was a fairy laying on the ground in front of her. She was dying.

She took a step back, prepared to double time it back to the house, when the fairy stirred. When it saw her, it stopped for a second, and when it realized she was looking at it, it froze entirely. Then it was up, inches from her face, and then she heard it, the voice, tiny, reverberating, excited, as if it was coming from inside her own head.

“SHARON!” The fairy knew her name.

It flew around her letting out whoops of joy. “Sharon, Sharon, you can see me, it’s been so long, you just stopped and we tried and tried to talk to you, and you wouldn’t even look, but now you can see? What happened?” And this is how she spent the rest of her day, wandering the park with a fairy.

The more the fairy spoke, the more she remembered, of Buttercup and Dewdrop, and Stanley, who was rather dour, and for some reason strangely named. She felt like she was floating on her way home, like she had found a part of herself that had been missing, and she wondered how, how had she forgotten her friends.

It was all she thought about now, her “runs” started to increase, both in frequency and duration. She spent every moment she could at the local park, with her friends, and it took six months for anyone to realize that for all the running she was doing, she wasn’t getting very fit.

Her husband was the one to confront her.

“Don’t lie to me Sharon, I know you aren’t running. Is there someone else?” He pleaded for the truth and she wasn’t sure how to give it to him. There was nothing that she could say that he was going to believe. She barely believed it herself, and she was living it, but what could she do. This was her husband and she loved him. So she told him everything.

“Fairies?” He asked when she was done.

“Fairies.” She confirmed, and they sat there in silence.

“Sharon, I, could you tell me when you started seeing them again?” He asked after a long pause.

“Oh, about six months ago, right after I started running.” She explained.

“After you started the clean living diet?”He confirmed.

“Yes” She replied.

“Okay.” He said, and she waited for the other shoe to drop and it didn’t

The just went back to normal, and she found it so strange. How could you find out about fairies, and not want to meet one, see one. Maybe he was afraid he wouldn’t be able to see them.

Two weeks later, when their daughter was at his parents for a sleepover he brought them up again.

“Sharon, I think we need to discuss the Fairies.” He stated as they were washing the dishes from dinner.

“What about them?” She asked.

“So, I thought that they were a side effect. Maybe one of those all natural supplements you were taking had something wrong with it, ergot poisoning or the like, so I had them tested.” He started.

“And, they were all fine?” She stated, she knew they were.

“Yes, and you understand though, why I had to check”

“It seemed crazy, even to me, so ya, I get it.” She countered.

“Okay, so I looked into mental illnesses, and based on your age, I couldn’t really find anything that fit. You are a little on the older side for the closest ones” He continued.

“Okay.” She didn’t like where this was going.

“And then I remembered what you said. About remembering them, from when you were a teenager, I uh,” He held up a container with her iron supplements.

“You what? Thought the iron was keeping them away? We started using the iron fish thing, eating iron rich foods. I didn’t decrease my iron intake, so nothing would have changed.” She explained.

“And if they were iron, nothing would have.”

“What, they say iron right there on the label?” And they did.

“Yes, but, you know I always hated that doctor of yours, and well I had these tested too. They aren’t iron, and when I found out what they were, I called your doctor, and confronted him with it. Your parents, they didn’t want you to know, and they worked so well, as long as you took them.”

“What are they?” She felt numb.

“Anti-psychotics. Specifically for early onset schizophrenia.” He stated, and she put down the plate hard on the counter.

She wanted to fight it, to say he was wrong, but it was who her parents were. The kind of people who would sweep a mental illness under a rug of iron pills. If they let her know, she might have told people, tarnished the family name.

“I’ll start taking them again.” She said woodenly, holding out her hand.

“Uh, thats the thing, when you go back on them, they will need you to be monitored, regularly to make sure they are working and the dosage is right. There are side effects, it might be why you couldn’t get the weight off. They, well, sometimes when you stop and start again, they don’t work right. You will need to meet with a psychiatrist.” He talked to her like he talked to their daughter, and oh god their daughter. Why hadn’t she asked when her doctor told her to cut back when she was pregnant. Thank god their daughter had been healthy, the thought that she could have hurt her baby made her want to cry.

“Okay, when.” She asked, all fight gone from her limbs. She was crazy.

“I have an appointment, first thing tomorrow. Someone good, someone…good” She knew he wanted to say your parents didn’t pay off.

“Honey, its going to be okay.” He continued.

She smiled and nodded, but she knew, it would never be okay again.


Okay, I admit it, I am obsessed with the Fae, and schizophrenia. I mean there are a lot of early Fae stories that can be explained by natural phenomena, or toxic mold, but mental illness probably played its fair share as well. Not just schizophrenia, but also autism, depression, and anxiety can be linked back to the old stories. Believe me, this is not the last you see of the Fae here.

Sunshine and Daisies

This is another Friday Picture Prompt response from The Writer’s Mess, (picture below) where apparently last weeks doors have not yet left me alone, and I brought along my poor protagonist to see what happens next…


The door was gone, and she wanted to cry. It was hard to be sad here though, standing in an endless field of daisies, warmed by the sun on her face.

There was a second where she thought of her brother, alone, untended, crying, but that wasn’t really her responsibility. Her mother was home, and would see to little Johnathan eventually, or so she hoped.

She let the smells and sounds of summer sooth away her worries, as she began to wander. She could always try and find the door later, but for now she wanted to enjoy this perfect afternoon.

She walked, ran, skipped, spun, and danced through the field, laughing. She couldn’t remember the last time she had been this light, this carefree. It was like a weight, maybe the weight of a little boy, had been lifted from her, and she was finally her again.

While the sun hadn’t moved, she knew time had passed, because she was growing hungry, and weary. She turned to head towards the door and froze. There was no path in the weeds showing where she had been, and she had spun, so much so she didn’t have a clue from where she had come.

As she walked, weeping, her limbs grew heavy, as if filled with lead, and she made a choice, she probably wouldn’t have if she hadn’t been so tired. She stopped where she was, and laid down among the flowers. Surely everything would seem better when she awoke.