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Chloe Empties Her Closet

technologies From the time she was five years old, the closet in Chloe Gallaghers bedroom had always been an object of fierce terror to her.

See, ever since she could remember, Chloe Gallagher had been convinced that there was a monster living inside of her closet. Now, cleaning it out the weekend before she was meant to leave for college, she couldn’t believe how wrong she’d been. Of course most children have wild, active imaginations, and a lot of children are scared of things like this; monsters under the bed, monster in the closet, a general fear of the dark and the unknown. But Chloe was no longer a child. She was almost twenty now and she was preparing to go to medical school. Standing there on that early summer evening, the late sun pouring past her blinds and splashing across her bedroom floor as she stared into the closet she was once so deathly afraid of, Chloe couldn’t help but laugh at the whole thing.

See, Chloe also wasn’t like most kids because a lot of kids don’t grow out of that monster phase so quickly. Chloe did. Sure, she was scared, but she quickly found the closet she feared of housing a monster to be a safe haven from the rest of the home that housed an actual monster; her father. She could recall so many times once she was eight years old that she and her mother had to hide in closets, specifically Chloes closet because it had such a solid lock on it, just to escape the awful man they were trapped with. Eventually, as Chloe grew older, she realized the closet could be a much better place to spend her time. It was a rather small walk in, but she made it into a cozy space. She built a little pillow fort in there, cozy with blankets and books and snacks, and she’d spend all her free time alone in that closet.

When she came to realize she was in love with her friend Charlotte, whom she’d met the previous summer during college tours her school was making Juniors and Seniors take, she didn’t want to come out of the closet. She found it to be at odds with how she usually viewed the closet to begin with; a warm, safe little space just for her. Over the next year, she accepted that the two had nothing to do with one another, and came out to her mother, who continued to give her all the love in the world. See, Chloe and her mother, they were two peas in a pod. Her mother, Enid, had been brave enough to finally stand up to her father when he attacked one night, and killed him in self defense. Because of this bravery, Chloe admired her mom, and realized if she was brave, she too could do anything, no matter what someone else told her. So Chloe coming out to her mom just re-instilled that sense of bravery Enid knew they both had to do the things they knew they had to do in order to be happy.

Chloe stepped back, hands on her hips, as she looked into the closet once more. Now empty of boxes and clothes and her little hideaway, she could see it was just that and nothing more. A closet. Just a subroom attached to a bedroom. But to her, oh it was so much more, so so much more. The thought of even using a new closet somewhere different, some random college campus somewhere…it scared her. But she knew that better things were coming, newer things were coming. From one place to another, one school to another, one closet to another.

It was, after all, just a room.

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I’m Maggie. If you like this thing I made, you might like some other things I’ve done, like my 2015 novel “You Ruined Everything”, my podcast network “The Feel Bad Network” or my writing over at Medium. You can also find some published work for sale over at my Payhip or support my work at my Patreon! Anything helps & is appreciated, thanks!

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She Rode On A Dinosaur: A Short Story

a short story(2)This months (not so) short story is out! You can buy it right here! The description is as follows:

Heidi Beuford is a 9 year old girl, and is very sick. Between doctors appointments and visits to the local history museum, she often feels scared and lost, but Luna doesn’t. Luna Bell is a strong girl who rides a raptor named Triumph, and is out to find the truth about life in her fantasy world. As Luna attempts to discover the mystery behind The Great Fish and Heidi attempts to simply survive, together, the two will learn valuable lessons about life, death, and that sometimes being scared is necessary.

It’s a bit on the longer side than I intended it to be, or as any of the other stories usually are, but it’s a pretty good one I think. Definitely the longest of the bunch this year, clocking in at just over 8k words, so, yay. Anyway, read it and help me pay my rent, yeah? Thanks!

Buy My Book!  Support Me Via Patreon! Donate To Our GoFundMe!

I’m Maggie. If you like this thing I made, you might like some other things I make, like my depressing webcomic “In Space, No One Can Hear You Cry”, my podcast network “The Feel Bad Network” or my writing over at Medium. You can also find some published work for sale over at my Payhip or support my work at my Patreon! Anything helps & is appreciated, thanks!

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Sadie Says Goodbye To The Classroom

technologiesShe hadn’t been in the classroom since she’d last spoken to Miss Rogers. She’d actually planned on coming back and teaching in this very room, but with the school being sold and torn down, that was no longer a viable option. Sitting here, on her old desk, in her 4th grade classroom, Sadie could remember every single moment of her childhood clear as a bell.

She could remember the way Miss Rogers smelt when she leaned down to help her with a math problem, or the way the laughter of the students used to fill the classroom when they’d watch a movie every Friday afternoon. She longed to go back to these days. No other days in her childhood, just these days, in this classroom. Sadie stood up and walked to the desk where Miss Rogers used to sit and touched it with her fingertips, picking up lots of dust. She smiled as she remembered how she used to bring an apple to her once a week, thinking that was what you brought your teacher, and then the one time she brought her an entire box of chocolates during Valentines Day. She felt embarrassed because nobody else got the teacher anything, but Miss Rogers seemed pretty appreciative, and her smile…god her smile.

This was where Sadie became the person she would be for the rest of her life. Discovering the things she really loved, like reading and teaching, and how badly she wanted to be a teacher herself one day. This was where Sadie learned that how others felt about her didn’t matter so long as she believed in herself. This was where Sadie had learned she had a crush on her 4th grade teacher. This classroom was her life, her home away from home, and soon it’d be nothing more than a pile of rubble. The best years of her youth were spent here, and where would she spend the best years of her adult life? Certainly not where she was right now, living in a tiny one bedroom apartment, pining over her next door neighbor, the pretty brunette with the blue streaks in her hair and always smiled at her when they saw one another. No. She needed something more, something equal to this classroom. She’d thought about staging a protest; handcuffing herself to the desk leg or something dramatic like that, but she knew it wasn’t a good idea. She did want to get hired as a teacher eventually.

Sadie walked over to the chalkboard and ran a broken, run down piece of chalk along it, writing her name in cursive, and then over to the rack where they hung their coats and then to the cubby hole where they stuck their bags. God. This all seemed so fresh, like it’d just happened. Nothing else seemed so fresh. Is that what makes your best memories your best memories? Because you can recall them so vividly, comparatively to everything else? Perhaps. And what she’d give to speak to Miss Rogers again, just one more time. Tell her how her crush on her teacher allowed Sadie to realize it was okay for a girl to like girls, and that she inspired her to become a teacher herself. But that was also impossible. Miss Rogers had been in that car accident a few years back, and the last thing she’d ever told Sadie through their various e-mails while Sadie was at college was, “lol this cat is so stupid!!!”

The emails stopped coming, and soon enough Sadie heard the news, and was understandably devastated. You rarely get over your first major crush, but much more rarely do they DIE. This hurt on a number of levels. The first person she’d ever liked and the person who inspired her to choose her career was gone, and she’d never gotten around to thanking her for either. And now? Now her classroom would be gone as well. It wasn’t bad enough she herself had been ripped violently from this mortal coil, apparently, no. They had to rip her classroom from it as well. She sighed and then walked over to the rack, took her coat and walked to the cubby, took her purse and then stopped at Miss Rogers desk and placed her hand on the top of it, a few tears finally escaping and rolling down her eyes.

“Thank you,” Sadie whispered, before leaving.

Sometimes a room doesn’t even have to belong to a house to have had an enormous impact on you. Sometimes it can be something as simple as a classroom as well. She knew the demolition was scheduled for a few hours from now and figured she’d go grab lunch, come back and take a seat to watch it. This way it’d be a clean break from her past, and maybe she could finally move on towards her future.

Buy My Book!  Support Me Via Patreon! Donate To Our GoFundMe!

I’m Maggie. If you like this thing I made, you might like some other things I make, like my depressing webcomic “In Space, No One Can Hear You Cry”, my podcast network “The Feel Bad Network” or my writing over at Medium. You can also find some published work for sale over at my Payhip or support my work at my Patreon! Anything helps & is appreciated, thanks!

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Modern Museum Of Mistakes: Short Story

Ocean(1) Hey, Augusts short story is now out! Please buy it and help my girlfriend and I take care of some medical bills! I’m also linking our gofundme at the bottom of this page! Anyway, here’s a description of the story:

Lena Pilgrim, a woman in her late 30s, is taking on a late night security job at her local art museum as a way to make ends meet. One night, Lena finds herself with a new artist in the museum, and things quickly become strange when Lena notices the paintings on the walls start to mirror certain moments in her life, allowing her to view them in real time. Is this artist really an artist, or something more? Lena intends to find out, even if the truth hurts her.

Anyway, the story is available for purchase right here at the low, low cost of a buck fifty! Any and all sales will be extremely appreciated. Also, as I stated above, I am putting the GoFundMe my girlfriend started in here. I hate to do this sort of thing for we REALLY need the help, so if you could give anything at all, we’d be so super appreciative. Thank you so much! I promise to start updating this blog again regularly!

Buy My Book!  Support Me Via Patreon!

I’m Maggie. If you like this thing I made, you might like some other things I make, like my depressing webcomic “In Space, No One Can Hear You Cry”, my podcast network “The Feel Bad Network” or my writing over at Medium. You can also find some published work for sale over at my Payhip or support my work at my Patreon! Anything helps & is appreciated, thanks!

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Baggage Claim: A Short Story

yoursite.tumblr.comJunes short story is now available to buy! Here’s a description:

When a woman dies trying to get her luggage off the carousel, everyone is held up even longer. Eventually, only two people remain; a young woman named Carmen and a young gay man named Eric, both of whom quickly come to realize they have a lot more in common than they ever could’ve imagined. BAGGAGE CLAIM is about creating a family when you have none, and looking to the least likely people to be the most important in your life.

So yeah, I think this is a pretty strong one, so check it out please? I’d be greatly appreciative! Also, for the rest of the month, ALL my works (aside from this because it’s brand new) at Payhip are 50% off with this coupon (MF5ZI9W2EX) for pride month! Support your favorite local broken lesbian! Thanks!

Buy My Book!  Support Me Via Patreon!

I’m Maggie. If you like this thing I made, you might like some other things I make, like my depressing webcomic “In Space, No One Can Hear You Cry”, my podcast network “The Feel Bad Network” or my writing over at Medium. You can also find some published work for sale over at my Payhip or support my work at my Patreon! Anything helps & is appreciated, thanks!

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Is There Anything Else I Can Do For You?

a short story(1)This months Payhip short story is now available. Now, to be fair, this is a re-release, as this story was previously only available in my collected work “Nice Girls Don’t Burn Ants”, but now you can buy just this story! Anyway, a description:

Nathan Fielding has the house to himself. He’s supposed to be getting his things out in time for the divorce, but that’s taken a backseat ever since he woke up and found his daughters pet Finch dead that morning. And if things were’t weird enough already, now there’s a human sized papier mache bird talking to him, and it seems to know a lot about his life.

There will be a NEW original story next month, I’ve just been swamped with projects and couldn’t manage to knock out a new short story this time. But here you can read this one, now available all on its own! Enjoy!

Buy My Book!  Support Me Via Patreon!

I’m Maggie. If you like this thing I made, you might like some other things I make, like my depressing webcomic “In Space, No One Can Hear You Cry”, my podcast network “The Feel Bad Network” or my writing over at Medium. You can also find some published work for sale over at my Payhip or support my work at my Patreon! Anything helps & is appreciated, thanks!

 

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Celia Drowns In The Basement

technologiesShe’d shut and locked the door at the top of the stairs, but thinking now, it was a good thing this basement had been basically set up as a bomb shelter in the 50s, because locking the goddamned door wouldn’t do much good alone. Celia then started to walk downstairs, and put a chair in the center of the room and walked around it a few times, taking in the basement, in all its glory.

God, the things that had happened in this basement, a perfect example of the age old sentiment “if walls could talk”, because damn, the stories they would tell. Memories flooded her mind instantly, which made her smile at the irony of the euphemism. There was the time she and her older sister had hidden down here from their father after her older sister had hit the bumper of his car with her bike, and they were afraid he’d be mad, but in the end, he was just happy they were okay and told them to come to him and never be afraid. Her mind turned to the time she and Ashley Mossica got together and played a bunch of low fi cassette tapes in the basement at max volume because they had the house to themselves…god that weekend. The taste of her strawberry lipstick, how she had to hide the stains left behind by the kisses on her neck with a scarf, which thankfully worked considering it was snowing outside, and nobody questioned her clothing choices. The way that, the night of high school graduation, while her sister went to dinner with their parents, she and Ashley decided to stay in the basement and lay on the couch together, discussing plans for the future. None of which ever came true.

Now though…what had once been an escapist dream was now just an old, ratty basement in a home that could no longer sustain it. She’d since dropped out of college and been unable to afford her medications, and since her parents had discovered that she’d been seeing a woman from her support group. So much for parents loving you no matter what. Her parents hadn’t kept the basement up to snuff, and it had fallen into a state of disrepair, but now….now it’d be more than just that. She’d see to that. Sure, the rest of the house would remain fine, but this room would always and forever be Celia Armak’s. She sighed, grabbed an axe and started cutting into the old rusted pipes in the basement walls, which started to flood the room. Celia then sat down in the chair, strapped her legs to the chair legs with rope and cuffed her hands with an old pair of handcuffs after she’d put a blindfold on. She smiled, listening to the water as it began to fill the room and soak her shoes and socks, and climbing ever higher every second.

This basement, the games with her sister, the derby car projects with her father, the dance lessons with her mother, the first kisses, the loss of virginity, the first suicide attempt before college…yes, this room was her entire history, her entire life. The water quickly rose to her neck, and she craned her head back to give herself a few more seconds of breath, thinking about Ashley, thinking of all the promises they’d made to one another, all the things she’d planned to do with her life; go to college and become a famous clothing designer, maybe eventually do costume work for films…but not now. No. The water overtook her, and the chair was floating, as was she, still strapped to it. Her head was getting lighter, her thoughts foggier, her breathing tighter, and soon she was thrashing violently, and before she knew it, she was at peace, and soon Celia wasn’t thinking anything at all anymore.

“You can have the house,” she’d thought as she’d set this up, “But the fucking basement is mine.”

Buy My Book! (50% off til May 14th with code 842S65WXTO

Support Me Via Patreon!

I’m Maggie. If you like this thing I made, you might like some other things I make, like my depressing webcomic “In Space, No One Can Hear You Cry”, my podcast network “The Feel Bad Network” or my writing over at Medium. You can also find some published work for sale over at my Payhip or support my work at my Patreon! Anything helps & is appreciated, thanks!