I clasp a hand to my mouth,

As the front door opens,

Someone else is in the house.


I shake as they walk upstairs,

I am so excited.

I hold the knife out waiting.


A Moment in Time

We obsess over time,

In clocks, in sand.

We even gave it a sound of dread,

That all humans come to fear.

Tick-tock, tick-tock.



If we covered the clocks,

And stopped the hands,

We’d realise that time doesn’t move forward.


Just a moment,

This moment:

Is eternal.


Whether it be your first

Or your last.


The End.

You Are Not Prefect

It’s an awful thing to hear, but something we all understand: we’re not perfect. Despite everything we still have flaws.


You are the best writer out there.

Neither am I.

No one is.


I think we should take comfort in that fact, when it all feels for nought and we feel like we can’t do anymore, we are not perfect.


So, there is always tomorrow to become better.


Author’s Note: I’ve been struggling through my editing recently and have been feeling quite low about it, so I just thought I should write a small piece about it.

And just to cover all my bases: the title is irony, I know it’s spelt wrong.

Counting Down


Jordie scraped her long nails across Sam’s hands. He screamed but kept his thumbs pressed down over her neck.

“Tell me you bitch! Tell me how to get out of here!” Sam shouted, his hands now red with blood. When the blue faced Jordie didn’t respond, Sam slammed her head down twice into the metal grating, “Tell me! Tell me!”

Cristine couldn’t take her eyes away from his bloodied hands. She stared at them intently keeping her hands clasped over her mouth. Bryan’s blood was a different shade to Sam’s own and the fact that Cristine now knew that sickened her.

She had hidden herself under one of the line of metal school benches pressed against the walls. The room did remind her of old nightmares. Fears of coming into her classroom naked or being laughed at for handing in something wrong. Of course, it had been a while since she had had such dreams, but now they came rushing back to her, vividly remembering the fear and how childish it was when faced with what she saw. The bodies on the floor were only half of the mess of the small classroom. Along with the class benches there were too small chairs now scattered across the room, some broken against the door, one of them was covered in blood. At the front of the room was a large electrical projector, only showing a large red countdown. Twenty-four hours were now down to two minutes. None of them knew each other or why they had even wound up locked in this room. There had been six of them and for the first twenty-three hours, the six of them had mostly ignored each other. But with the last hour counting down a question had to be asked:

What happened when it reached zero?

Sam reared up from the body, Jordie’s bloodshot eyes now staring at the ceiling light, its light bouncing off her opaque eyes.

He come for Cristine next.

Sam hadn’t been the first to turn bloodthirsty. Michael had broken Lucy’s arm for answers and then her neck, Amy wrestled with him until Bryan had silenced them both. Then Sam had taken first to Bryan and now to Jordie. Now it was only the two of them left, with a minute on the clock.

“Cristine, so it was you.”

She pressed hard against her mouth until she bit her own palm.

“Why didn’t you tell me!? Why haven’t you released us?”

He rammed into her desk. She screamed, scrabbling away but he still sought her ankle. Her hands tried to grab hold of the floor, but nothing could stop him from pulling her out and pressing his foot into her throat.


Had he lied to himself? He had never thought that possible and yet…the bodies littered the floor and each of them he had checked over, he had torn open their necks just to be sure. He sat down on the floor cross-legged, picking at the blood in his fingernails as he watched the timer ticked slowly down.






 He closed his eyes and bright white light enveloped him, the sound of the air conditioning unit stopped, his breathing stopped, and all was left was the white light against his eyelid. Finally, after an eternity, he

opened his eyes again.

He was still there. Same room, same people. They were alive, or perhaps they were all dead. He didn’t have long to think on before Jordie ran at him and gauged his eyes out with her nails.