Free Journalstone's 2010 Warped Words for Twisted Minds by Compiled by Christopher C. Payne Page A

fell backwards and continued to kick away from this thing that used to be his flesh and blood.
    Jai’s face had withered and aged as though he had been there for decades. His once innocent eyes were now wide open and fear-stricken. Sunken cheeks revealed his cheek bones, and his skin was pale and rotting. The light from the torch flickered on Jai’s lifeless face before dying out again.
     
    *  *  *
     
    The ambulance ushered the catatonic Sonia away while the police tried to question Ashok with little success. The burly cop looked at his partner before calling out to the paramedics waiting in the second ambulance.
    “Take him to the hospital, we’ll have to question him there. We aren’t going to get anything from him here.”
    Wrapping him in a blanket, the paramedics helped Ashok up and guided him to the white van with the flashing lights at the end of the drive. Turning his head ever so slightly, Ashok peered over his shoulder and saw the yellow tape that had barricaded his house. He noticed the front door was still ajar but couldn’t muster the strength to say anything.
    The two men in bright yellow jackets helped Ashok up the steps and placed him on the stretcher before shutting the van doors. As they strapped him in, Ashok sat up and looked through the glass panes at his home once more. The van wobbled gently as it maneuvered its way over the gravel path and around the remainder of the driveway out of the gates. Overhanging trees and unkempt bushes started to obstruct Ashok’s view as the distance between him and the house grew. A sudden gust of wind caused the van to sway and startled everyone in the vehicle except Ashok.
    “PAPA!!!!! PAPA!!!!!” The wind carried his son’s loud cries.
    Suddenly, the partly open door slammed ferociously shut, from the inside. Ashok watched and remained silent as the van left the premises.
     
     
    In the Hindi language, “Saya” means both “Shadow” or “Spirit.”
     

 
     
     
The Boyfriend
By Annastaysia Savage
     
     
    “Mom, thanks again for letting me move back in with you. I promise I won’t be a burden. It’s only until I find a job and get my feet on the ground … and then I’m outta here, promise,” Nadia said to me as she held her hand up like she was taking an oath. Her smile beaming, she turned to go upstairs to her room.
    I smiled to myself and picked at the hangnail I just couldn’t stop messing with. Of course, I’d help her out. She’s my daughter, all I had left from my wrecked marriage. And she had just graduated from college and really, had nowhere to go – yet. She was at the top of her class, so the job offers were bound to come rolling in sooner or later. I was hoping it was later, rather than sooner, as I could really use her company right now. I wouldn’t dare tell her that though. I didn’t want her to think I was needy or trying to smother her. I looked up at Nadia again, as the hangnail began to bleed and put my finger in my mouth.
    Even though she’s my daughter, and I’m very biased, she really is one of the most beautiful girls I have ever seen. At 23, she has her whole life ahead of her, and I admire that. I watched her as she jogged up the stairs, her ponytail swishing back and forth, and I secretly hoped she would stay forever. With the noises I had heard last night still fresh in my mind, I didn’t want to be alone in this big, old house anymore. Especially now, since the sounds have become a sort of macabre soundtrack, like eerie backdrop music, for daily life in this aged Victorian farmhouse.
    Nadia stopped in the middle of the staircase and turned to look at me, a questioning expression on her face. Fear washed over my body like a prickly shower. Oh God, did she hear them, too? What do I say to her? The scraping noises coming from the attic moved to the forefront of my consciousness. Since all of these strange sounds had become normal background noise I no longer really heard, like when the furnace kicks on or