The following pieces of flash were written by my daughter, Annabelle L. Miller. Lady Scarybelle is 10-years-old. She could’ve written anything, and I would’ve been happy, but she wrote the following, and there’s so much good in them, that as a horror-writing daddy, I could cry.
By Annabelle L. Miller
“I love the smell of ashes “,said Dez. Dez and his friends were having a bonfire. Mark, John, Dylan, and Dez were telling scary stories. Dez went first. “It went like this”,said Dez. Its called Jonny Ash. When Jonny was a little boy he loved smell of ashes. When ever they had a fire he collected the ashes. He hoped that one day he’ll be able to make a giant fire out of all the ashes he collected. One day him and his family had a giant bonfire. Jonny was able to collect 5 buckets of ashes. He ran to his room. Every one was wondering what he was doing in there. He came running out of his room with a testing tube,screaming I got it I got it. he ran to the fire drank the liquid in the testing tube. He jumped in the fire and started to crumble. The fire roared and grew more and more as Jonny was almost all ashes he said something ” I did it, I made the biggest fire ever out of ashes”. Then he blew off into a million pieces and was caught by the wind. “Thats the story of Jonny Ash”, said Dez. His friends were scared out of there minds. Then Dez started to act weird . “He was laughing in a sortuv evil way”,said Mark. Then Dez started to blow away in the wind turning into ashes.
April Fool’s Day
By Annabelle L. Miller
As Sammy walked through the school door he has to be very careful,cause its April fools day.Danny Johnson will be at it again.Every time he pranks some they always pay the ultimate price.Every time he gets taken away he always wispers something no one can here.”Things will be differentthis year”,Sammy thought to himself.I will make shure that Danny’s rane of terror will end.So Sammy went to go get some suplies.3 hours later. . .”Finally, I’m done”,Sammy thought to himself.Hay Danny come over here.The rope titelly in my hand the ax at ready,and
Off goes Dannys head.The police were already there,cause they thought that Danny was going to strike again.But no it was Sammy Johnson Danny Johnsons brother.As they took him away he wispered something “Happy April Fools.
I’m Watching You
By Annabelle L. Miller
Molly Fisher is a small town girl,she lives with her sister Tera and her father Jacob. Her mom died a couple years ago in a car accident. So when its her birthday they always go to her grave and put flowers on it and sing happy birthday. But her birthday this year something terrible happened. “Dad what’s for dinner”,said Molly. But her dad was doing Tera’s hair and had a hair brush in his mouth so he couldn’t talk,he just mumbled.”Molly, Molly, I’m watching you”. “Whose there”. “Who are you talking to Molly”, said Jacob.”Nobody,I just thought I heard someone talking to me”. “Anyway were having meatloaf and macincheese for dinner”. “I’m going to my room to do homework”, said Molly. As she was going to her room out of the corner of her eye she saw someone looking through the window but when she looked through the window no one was there, “Must have been the shadow of a tree or something. So she carried on to her own business. As she was doing was doing her homework she heard some rattling but she did not no what it was, so she went investigating. She looked every where but saw nothing. So she went back to her business. “Good dinner dad” said Tera. “Thank you Tera”.” So Molly how is school going”, said Jacob.” Its ok, I mean the homework is not to great, well I’m done”. So Molly went up stairs. Then she heard it again ” Molly, Molly I’m watching you”, so she turned around and there was a strange man in a dark cloke he was still saying” Molly, Molly, I’m watching you”. AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH, she screamed. Then her dad and Tera came running up stairs saying ” Whats wrong Molly,whats wrong”, she just kept screaming and she ran away and jumped out a window and landed on the just to hard and she didnt make it. Jacob and Tera ran outside and called 911 and they told them what happened. When they came they said that she was dead so they took her to a funeral home. So they went in side and then they heard a nock on the door. When he answered the door no one was there but there was a note on the door it said “I’m watching you, I’m watching you.
Author and publisher Blaze McRob, in honor of February’s Women Of Horror month, is featuring Annabelle as one of spotlight writers. Check it out here.
Author’s Note: “No More Stars” is a collaboration with my father, written for my school’s upcoming talent contest. I’ve five minutes to read this piece. I’ve been practicing, and am hoping to blow the audience away.
–All my best, Annabelle
No More Stars—A Dark Fantasy
by Annabelle L. Miller and Rob M. Miller
Atum, Bastet, Anubis, Isis, NUT, Seth, and Thoth.
The Egyptian pantheon. And yes, there’s more. Several.
Are they gods? I don’t know. Maybe they’re aliens. But they are not myths. Not at all. They’re real, and they’re mad. But, of course, you knew that already, didn’t you? It’s been all over the news, all over the world: television, radio, and Internet.
Through the mouth of their prophet, Horus, Osirus, and Ra have demanded sacrifice, a child to be offered to quench their wrath.
If you haven’t guessed it yet, I’ll clue you in. It’s me they’re after. But I’m getting ahead of myself, a habit since birth, and something that drives my dad crazy. Goodie for me, if Dad doesn’t always love crazy, he does always love me—gobs!
Oh, my God! The Dead Sea has just turned to blood. The plagues again, getting worse. Give me a moment to turn off the T.V. We don’t need the distraction.
Phew! Depressing, isn’t it, all this trouble. Can hardly believe it’s happening, that it really is all real. Same time, it’s not coming as a complete surprise. Why? Because as long as I can remember, I’ve had dreams, and over time, I’ve been able to piece things together.
One of them starts with my Uncle Joshua, Dad’s brother, and he’s coming for me. He isn’t nice, either, but is smiling in this creepy way, and he’s holding a khophesh, this kind of nasty Egyptian sword, a blade that comes out from its pommel and then turns upward, the weapon the deadliest of sickles.
“Wait, Annabelle,” Uncle Joshua says. “You know you’re to come with me … that there’s no other way.” He beckons me forward with the sword. “I’m your uncle, you can trust me. You won’t feel a thing—pinky promise.”
Being a dream, I can’t tell where I am, but I think I’m somewhere outside. It’s nighttime, but the sky is red, a dark vermilion—and the stars are gone.
“No, I’m going with my dad. You’re working for them. You want us dead!”
“No, child. Not your father, only you.”
As my uncle starts to move forward, with a triumphant laugh cackling away, I feel a hand on my shoulder. It’s Dad.
“I’m here, Annabelle.”
My hand crosses my shoulder to rest upon Dad’s, and I watch helplessly as my uncle and his blade come closer … but then something strange starts to happen, his body halts, starts to sparkle … and the man’s turning blue, and he’s screaming, and then in a blink, he’s gone.
And then a voice is heard—a woman’s. “Never a worry, young one, you’re coming home, you and your father.”
The voice is Nut’s, the Egyptian goddess of the sky, but more importantly, a voice that sounds painfully familiar, a voice I had lost, and without ever knowing it. The voice of my mother. A moment later, shoulders gripped by my father, and the both of us are shooting to the stars like rockets.
And we’re in some kind of palace, I can always remember that, but I can never recall what it looks like, and then there’s Nut again.
“Hello, dear daughter. It’s about time we met.”
“Thank you for helping me,” I cry out, running into Nut’s glowing embrace.
“You’ve done well, Robert. You have a mother’s gratitude.”
“No,” Dad says. “The thanks go to you. Without you, our daughter wouldn’t be here. For now and forever, our little goddess.”
Then I wave my hand, and the stars return.
Yes, but again, it explains a lot. See my dad isn’t just anyone, he’s the famous Egyptologist, Dr. Robert Anderson, and if you had never heard of me before, you’ve certainly seen my picture all over the media, the world’s youngest ever MOST WANTED. My name’s Dr. Annabelle L. Anderson, at 11, the world’s youngest multiple Ph.D.
My father and I have had many adventures, from figuring out the mysteries behind Damascus steel, the Iron Pillar of Delhi, the stone spheres of Costa Rica, to the Baigong Pipes in China. And, of course, there’s always Egypt, our first love, and where my father tells me he met my mother and had me, but the circumstances of which he’s always remained silent.
More and more, though, I think my dreams have revealed the answer.
What other explanation is there?
Yes, my dad’s brilliant, the world’s foremost archeologist, speaker of three languages, martial artist, and explorer extraordinaire. But then there’s me, born with an eidetic—or photographic—memory, fluent in seven languages, expert in astronomy, and several other disciplines—and I’m just a kid!
What other answer could there be besides me being like Hercules, the offspring of a human and … and something else.
And then with recent events, with my Uncle Joshua addressing the U.N., demanding my turn over, my sacrifice … the bullets passing through his body as if he wasn’t even there … him turning the General Assembly into snakes … all of it televised, unbelievable, but all-too-real.
And now, tonight, the stars disappearing, the Earth enclosed with a blanket of vermillion.
“We’ve got to go, Annabelle!”
Oh, shoot, that’s my dad calling from another room.
“Bad guys are coming … I can see headlights in the distance, lots of them, and the sound of choppers.”
Darn, I’ve got to go … again. But it’s okay. I don’t think we’ll be running for long, and ultimately, I don’t think I’m going to get caught.
Nut will not allow it.
And neither will my dad. They love me too much. Will the stars appear again in the sky? Will everything go back to normal? I don’t know. But I do know this: My parents will not give me up, not for anything.
Not for the world, and not for all the stars in the sky.