• Bloody Hands
    Short Stories

    Bloody Hands: Part 4

    Trigger warning: This story contains abuse (physical and emotional), murder, and suicide attempts.  Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 The prison is a small building with one communal cell. The only other occupant is a man who smells like alcohol. He declares he got too drunk and they’ll put him in the stocks for a few hours later in the afternoon. He’s not bothered by the punishment. I sit on the damp straw in the far corner from the door and the reeking bucket of human waste. I hug my knees to my chest and hide my face. It’ll only be a couple days at most before someone from my…

  • Bloody Hands
    Short Stories

    Bloody Hands Part 3

    Trigger warning: This story contains abuse (physical and emotional), murder, and suicide attempts. Part 1 Part 2 The cheerful conversation at dinner makes the succulent duck turn to dust in my mouth. Sarah talks about the village as if it’s the best place in the colonies. She says that everyone there was so kind after her mother died of the same fever that took Midwife Sasha. Edmund and Martha only encourage it, asking for news of her father and asking if there are any boys she has her eye on. I stop listening and keep chewing the pasty duck. I probably have been working on this one bite for five…

  • Bloody Hands
    Short Stories

    Bloody Hands: Part 2

    Part 1 here Trigger warning: This story contains abuse (physical and emotional), murder, and suicide attempts. When I wake on the riverbank, I curse the God who just won’t let me die. I curse the sun creeping over the horizon like a skulking cat. I curse the crusted blood beneath my fingernails. “Why can’t I just die!” I scream up at the sky. I lay on my back, watching the purplish clouds scuttle across the lightening sky. God doesn’t answer. I’m used to it. No matter how many bedtime prayers Midwife Sasha made me repeat, I never believed God could actually hear me. And if He could, He surely had…

  • Bloody Hands
    Short Stories

    Bloody Hands: Part 1

    Hey guys! I’m so excited to share this short story with you all! Trigger warning: This story contains abuse (physical and emotional), murder, and suicide attempts. I was born with blood on my hands. It still stains my skin now, no matter how hard I try to rid myself of it. I shove my hands into my ragged pockets and hunch my shoulders against the rain. The graveyard is full of clusters of people, but I am not one of them. I stand off to the side, just in view of the open grave, yet far enough away no one will be bothered by my presence. There are fewer people…

  • Empty Pages by Allison Grace
    Short Stories

    I’m Back! + Empty Pages

    Hey everyone! I’ve missed blogging, but boy, do I have some exciting things coming in the next few months! Just a quick run over of all the changes before we dive into the first short story of my “new” blog. 😉 Instead of posting every week, I’ll be posting every other Saturday. That will take some pressure off of me and allow me to give you better content! Speaking of content, you’ll be seeing a lot more of my short stories and Christian living articles than before. I might occasionally post writing tips, but my focus is going to be on short stories. They will be serialized so you don’t…

  • Short Stories

    Rose of Shannon: A Short Story

    Every year I could remember, five people were sent invitations to meet the faerie queen. One morning I found mine under my pillow, perfectly folded with a wax rose for a seal. I clutched it to my chest, my sweaty fingers smearing the elaborate curlicues on the front. “Don’t you see, Mother? I have to go. This is the chance of a lifetime.” I scrunched my bare toes in the damp grass behind our cottage—more like a hovel, if you asked me. “Everyone says that she’ll grant anything ya want. I could wish us away from this…this dump.” “Shannon! Watch your mouth, your sister is right there.” Mother glanced at…