Written by Bella Velazquez and Maria Hipwood
Halloween is approaching quickly, and Minarets Press is pleased to welcome some spooky stories to herald the season! Here are the top three story submissions from the recent Spooky Short Stories competition.
The first comes from junior Jolene Anderson and is actually a true story!
The Encounter
by Jolene Anderson
My dad grew up with my grandpa in a log cabin, on the Navajo Reservation. There was this continuous feud where the Largos hated the Andersons, so they would leave marks all over the cabin to attract the evil spirits. Well, one night my dad was outside and saw a flashing light on top of the plateau. It blinked for a while until my dad turned to call for my grandpa, and it vanished for a time. When he looked again, it was there, but it was at the edge of the cliff. It jumped off and disappeared, so my dad went inside. The next morning he went to see if there was any trace of the light, but there was none.
When he told my grandpa, he said, "If that happens again, you come inside. It jumped down because it saw you and was coming for you."
Later that weekend, they went to my great-grandma Clara's house, and while they were gone, their cabin was burned down. The neighbors said no one was near it, but the only thing left standing were the signs the Largos carved into the cabin.
My dad said that the evil spirit followed him and my grandpa everywhere. He knew because he would hear whistles, babies crying, and non-animalistic sounds wherever he went (which are characteristics of the evil spirits). He claims it was that evil spirit that killed my grandpa in a hit and run. He doesn't know if it still follows him, only time will tell.
The second story is written by Joseph Langley, an alumnus of Minarets.
So Tell Me, Reader. What Are They?
by Joseph Langley
Silence is not the absence of sound. So tell me, reader. What is it? Is it the moment of fear that you feel when your heart skips a beat? Is it the uncomfortable lapse in conversation that you yearn to fill, and yet never can? Is it the ‘hi’ you’ve always wanted to say to someone, but never had the courage? Is it the echoing laughter of mockery still ringing behind your ears? Is it the nothingness you fear that you are, the self-doubt that infiltrates your mind, twists your soul, tears your psyche? Is it the gasping, heaving sobs so strong you can’t draw a breath, no matter how hard you try? ...No? Hmmm. Unfortunate.
Darkness is not the absence of light. So tell me, reader. What is it? Is it the moment where your subconscious reigns, as your eyes fight their way to wakefulness? Is it the edges of your vision, as your eyes dart around, never able to banish those flecks of nothing from your periphery? Is it the impenetrable ignorance that coats your mind, weaving its way into that which you most want to understand? Is it the veil you leave over the truth of your relationships, telling yourself that people care? Is it that feeling at the pit of your stomach, telling you that everything is wrong? Is it that which is reflected back upon you, in the mirror? ...No again? A pity.
Death is not the absence of life. So tell me, reader. What is it? Is it a man with a scythe, coming to take your soul in the dead of night and usher you into the afterlife? Is it the beep of a heartbeat monitor as your loved one flatlines? Is it the cold, unforgiving sorrow of your family members? Is it the hope you feel, wishing them greatness in whatever comes next? Is it the pain you feel at their loss? Is it a beginning? Is it the end? ...You don’t know? Interesting.
Because all three are watching you, brave reader. Pray that you do not watch them back.
Our third and final story comes from senior Solon Walker.
The Knocker
by Solon Walker
Thunk thunk thunk.
Three knocks came at the door, short and sharp. I blinked awake from my place on the couch, the glare of the muted TV movie making me squint. I checked my watch - three thirty-three a.m. Who would be at the door so late?
Bang, bang.
The knocks were harsher now, somehow more impactful than just the sound. The door shivered in its frame.
Then again - Bang, bang, bang, bang.
Each strike against the wood shook my chest, like shockwaves from a grenade. But instead of pushing me back, it felt like they were pulling me forward. I stood, walking to the door almost automatically.
The knocks came again, louder and faster, not stopping, picking up in pace with each step I took closer. The floor and wall rattled, dust and paint flying free, the keys in their tray jangled and fell to the ground. Something outside - maybe the wind, maybe something else - howled with what felt like rage. The wood around the handle splintered. Then I placed my hand on the latch, and all fell silent.
I opened the door.
Congratulations to all those who participated! From everyone here at Minarets Press, we wish you a happy Halloween!