A Dusky Rose (Collection of Short Stories)
written by Winter Lily
Short stories that I've written over time. In chronological order. Trigger warnings are: Suicide, depression, anxiety, murder. I will write individual warnings for each story. Feedback is welcome
Last Updated
05/31/21
Chapters
12
Reads
501
The Other One - Quincy Wren
Chapter 2
Dedicated to Quincy - Thank you Quincy, for everything. You are perfect, just the way you are. Stay safe and hold on.
(5 July, 2017)
TRIGGER WARNINGS: Schizophrenia, depression
First - 5
It was a cold dark day the first time she heard the voices. There were clouds in the sky and rain was beginning. She hurried into her class, led by her mother. “Bye Mummy!” she called out happily, she had been excited for another day. What wasn’t to like? She was five and at kindergarten. She had friends and plenty of things to do.
“Hi!” she called out to the teacher and smiled brightly. They were drawing today. Rows and rows of children sitting at table and drawing. Drawing squares, circles, triangles and stick figures. Smiling was frequent, but concentration was also. Coloured pencils scratched the surface of the paper, occasionally slipping and going onto the table. The teacher walked around, smiling and helping, giving new pencils and sharpening old ones. “Do you like it?” one boy asked hopefully.
“Yes, very much,” the teacher replied vacantly, handing a new sheet of paper to him. Suddenly, the bell rang loudly through the room, signalling breaktime. “Let’s pack up and then you can play,” the teacher said, grabbing pencils and putting them in a bucket. The children quickly got up from their chairs and pushed in their chairs. She placed her carefully scribbled picture away in a drawer neatly along with all the other children. Spare sheets of paper were stacked up and stencils were placed in a box. Once everything was tidy and clean they were allowed to go. She ran straight to where she always went. A swing, placed under a huge tree. She preferred the tree to the swing, but the swing was good too. The leaves of the tree were just brushing the top of the swingset and she looked up at them eagerly. She jumped onto the swing.
She was about to start swinging when she heard someone call her name. She looked around, no one was there. Maybe they were hiding? She thought to herself. “Hello? Do you want to play?” she asked hoping for a new friend as her other friends were sick. The person that she heard didn’t answer and so she began to swing herself, watching the other kids play on the rest of the playground. She smiled, happy that she got to the swing first. “Quickly, quickly,” the same voice as before said.
“Quickly to what?” she laughed, wondering who this person was and what game they were playing. The person didn’t reply. So, she kept swinging, not fussed by this person. They were just another person and if they wanted to play then they would come out. Another little girl ran up to the swingset and looked longingly at the swing. “Can I have a turn?” the little girl asked.
“Sure.” She hopped off and smiled. The other little girl jumped on the wing and promptly began to swing herself. Soaring towards the sky and falling back down again.
“Quickly, quickly,” the strange person said again.
“Quickly to what?” she asked again.
“Who are you talking to?” the other girl asked curiously.
“Can you not hear? They say; quickly, quickly,” she explains to the girl on the swing, amazed that this girl cannot hear the person. “They are hiding,” she says.
“Oh, you are imagining things,” the girl on the swing says, shaking her head and swinging higher.
“I’m not!”
“Yes you are,”
“Yes, quickly, quickly.”
“There they are again!”
“No!” the girl on the swing said angrily. She left the girl on the swing and ran in the direction of the rest of the playground. She saw the teacher and ran over to her. “She was mean to me,” she said, pointing at the girl on the swing.
“What happened?” the teacher asked, not really fussed by the dramas of a five year old girl.
“She was pretending she couldn’t hear the person I could. They are hiding. I said that,” she said. She looked up at the teacher sadly, hoping that the teacher could fix this like she could fix a spilt cup of water.
“Come, let’s look,” the teacher said without emotion. They walked over to the swingset and then they stopped. “I don’t see anyone,” the teacher said, mildly exasperated.
“I told you they are hiding! Look. You will find them,” she said, upset that no one believed her. She knew she had heard them.
“Fine,” the teacher said, looking in bushes, ready to scold the child that made her do all this work. Tree branches were pushed aside as were bushes. “There is no one there.”
“But, there. There is!” she said, almost crying now.
“I am here. I am here,” the person said.
“There! There!” she said excitedly, about to point, but not knowing where to. She definitely heard it or at least her head heard it. “There is no one there. You are imagining things. Now, come to class!” the teacher commanded as the bell rang.
“But…..” she said and then realised that she couldn’t convince anyone. She followed the teacher back to class, quiet tears running down her face. She sat at the table, still upset. Waiting for the others to come to class, painting was next. That should be exciting, she thought. She loved to paint. “Now, we are all going to paint,” the teacher said. Paints and paper were pulled out and given to the kids. They all began to paint. Blobs of yellow and streaks of orange on some. Waves of blue and flickers of green on others and everything in between. The end of class came too soon and parents came to pick their children up.
“She heard voices or said she did,” the teacher muttered.
“It was a person!” she said, looking up at her parents who nodded kindly down at her. She glanced one last time at the teacher and happily followed her parents.
Second - 9
She bolted upright in bed and almost screamed. She had been woken up by a vivid nightmare. In her dream, everyone was dead, she was the only person she knew that was alive. She hurried out of bed and ran into the bathroom where she promptly vomited. Most people her age that she knew would wake up their parents if they vomited in the middle of the night, but not her. She hated being made a big deal out of, she loved her parents, but they would be worried about her. She walked quickly back to her room and was about to get back into bed when she heard a voice. She had heard them almost every day since she was five. They didn’t bother her a lot of the time, but sometimes they were harsher than usual. “You are useless. No one wants you,” they screamed at her. She took a deep breath and told herself not to cry. The voice pounded inside her head, repeating over and over again. “You are a failure. You should just go away,” the voice whispered, vibrating inside her head. Tears ran down her face and her body racked with sobs. “Go away. Go away” the voice called, mocking her. It laughed. Laughed at her stupidity, laughed at her sadness, her nervousness.
“You go away. Please!” she begged, slowly sinking to the floor.
“Never. Never will I go away until you do,” the voice said. She was completely on the floor now. She curled up into a ball, softly sobbing. Her head covered by her arms. She remembered the first time she heard voices. She had been five. They told her to be quick. She had thought that it was a real person and that they were hiding. Everyone else thought that she had an imaginary friend. Now she wished it was an imaginary friend, instead she had realised that they were voices inside her head and the feeling of someone’s body all over her. It meant something was wrong with her. Still curled in a small ball, she rocked back and forth. She tried to dispel the voices and touches from her mind. But they would not go. Shapes loomed up beside her and she could have sworn she felt demons trying to tug at her. The wind on the window was determined to turn itself into someone tapping on it.
She stayed in the ball. The voices still mocking and taunting her. They hated her. Finally, light came through the small gap between her curtains and window. She slowly raised her head and uncurled. She looked around the room, desperately hoping that there was a person and it wasn’t just her head. To her disappointment it was only her in the room. She got up and walked over to the curtains. She pushed them open and stared out at the bright day, exactly the opposite of her thoughts. She opened the window and ducked her head out, letting the curtains fold in around her.
Third - 13
Walking down the street with a friend she was almost free of any thoughts but her own. She was happy. “So, what have you been doing recently?” her friend asked.
“Uhh, reading? School?” she said, shrugging. She wasn’t known for doing the most interesting things.
“Ahh, I see. I’m glad we could see each other today,” her friend said, smiling brightly. She was one of the two friends that she had. Everyone else thought her strange, and with the voices she heard, they weren’t far from the truth. “I’m glad too. This has been fun,” she said, thinking back over their trip to the park. Running through the trees and then climbing them. Talking about everything except sad or upsetting things. “Umm, I just want you to know that you are a great friend and I’m glad to have you. I’m always here for you,” she said, hoping that it didn’t seem too awkward. She just wanted her to know that she could trust her. “Well, I’m always here for you too,” the friend said, grinning. “Not that you would even need someone to talk to. You’re always so happy.”
“Always so ha -” she was cut off by her friend.
“Yes, you are always so happy. So bright and bubbly,” the friend exclaimed, grinning at her. “Me on the other hand. Schoolwork is getting difficult with exams, and I’ve got almost no time to smile, let alone actually have fun. It’d be nice to just vanish until exams are over, yeah?” the friend laughed, clearly joking. “Although watching a funny movie often helps. You should come sometime,” the friend continued, looking at her.
“Um, yeah. That would be fun. Oh, there’s a bathroom. I’ll be back,” she said hurriedly, walking into the public toilets.
I’m always happy? She thought to herself. Oh, I wish I could tell you what I feel. Exams are the least of my problems, she thought. Suddenly the voice filled the room, or rather her head. “See, I was right. No one will ever accept you. No one will ever understand you. You only have one chance to make this work and you have already failed,” it said. She backed into the wall, the noise reverberating inside her head which did not suit her well as she disliked loud noises and this was most certainly loud. She gasped for breath, panicking a little as the voice grew louder. “I was right all this time. You are useless. The world would be better off without you,” the voice said. It was the only thing she could focus on, this voice that kept telling her that she was worth nothing. She slowly lowered herself to the floor. Not wanting to give in, but not having a choice. Everything was too strong. Everything. “Are you coming out? Are you okay?” her friend called from the other side of the door.
“Yes, sorry. I’ll be out in a second,” she called back. The voice momentarily going away. She would just have to continue on, she thought to herself. She quickly opened the door and saw her friend waiting. “Sorry, I slipped and hurt myself a little. You know how clumsy I am,” she said, making up a fake explanation.
“Okay,” her friend replied, smiling and continued walking, motioning for her to follow. So she followed, still tormented by the thoughts of the voice. Nevertheless, she put on a smile and pretended that nothing was wrong.
(5 July, 2017)
TRIGGER WARNINGS: Schizophrenia, depression
First - 5
It was a cold dark day the first time she heard the voices. There were clouds in the sky and rain was beginning. She hurried into her class, led by her mother. “Bye Mummy!” she called out happily, she had been excited for another day. What wasn’t to like? She was five and at kindergarten. She had friends and plenty of things to do.
“Hi!” she called out to the teacher and smiled brightly. They were drawing today. Rows and rows of children sitting at table and drawing. Drawing squares, circles, triangles and stick figures. Smiling was frequent, but concentration was also. Coloured pencils scratched the surface of the paper, occasionally slipping and going onto the table. The teacher walked around, smiling and helping, giving new pencils and sharpening old ones. “Do you like it?” one boy asked hopefully.
“Yes, very much,” the teacher replied vacantly, handing a new sheet of paper to him. Suddenly, the bell rang loudly through the room, signalling breaktime. “Let’s pack up and then you can play,” the teacher said, grabbing pencils and putting them in a bucket. The children quickly got up from their chairs and pushed in their chairs. She placed her carefully scribbled picture away in a drawer neatly along with all the other children. Spare sheets of paper were stacked up and stencils were placed in a box. Once everything was tidy and clean they were allowed to go. She ran straight to where she always went. A swing, placed under a huge tree. She preferred the tree to the swing, but the swing was good too. The leaves of the tree were just brushing the top of the swingset and she looked up at them eagerly. She jumped onto the swing.
She was about to start swinging when she heard someone call her name. She looked around, no one was there. Maybe they were hiding? She thought to herself. “Hello? Do you want to play?” she asked hoping for a new friend as her other friends were sick. The person that she heard didn’t answer and so she began to swing herself, watching the other kids play on the rest of the playground. She smiled, happy that she got to the swing first. “Quickly, quickly,” the same voice as before said.
“Quickly to what?” she laughed, wondering who this person was and what game they were playing. The person didn’t reply. So, she kept swinging, not fussed by this person. They were just another person and if they wanted to play then they would come out. Another little girl ran up to the swingset and looked longingly at the swing. “Can I have a turn?” the little girl asked.
“Sure.” She hopped off and smiled. The other little girl jumped on the wing and promptly began to swing herself. Soaring towards the sky and falling back down again.
“Quickly, quickly,” the strange person said again.
“Quickly to what?” she asked again.
“Who are you talking to?” the other girl asked curiously.
“Can you not hear? They say; quickly, quickly,” she explains to the girl on the swing, amazed that this girl cannot hear the person. “They are hiding,” she says.
“Oh, you are imagining things,” the girl on the swing says, shaking her head and swinging higher.
“I’m not!”
“Yes you are,”
“Yes, quickly, quickly.”
“There they are again!”
“No!” the girl on the swing said angrily. She left the girl on the swing and ran in the direction of the rest of the playground. She saw the teacher and ran over to her. “She was mean to me,” she said, pointing at the girl on the swing.
“What happened?” the teacher asked, not really fussed by the dramas of a five year old girl.
“She was pretending she couldn’t hear the person I could. They are hiding. I said that,” she said. She looked up at the teacher sadly, hoping that the teacher could fix this like she could fix a spilt cup of water.
“Come, let’s look,” the teacher said without emotion. They walked over to the swingset and then they stopped. “I don’t see anyone,” the teacher said, mildly exasperated.
“I told you they are hiding! Look. You will find them,” she said, upset that no one believed her. She knew she had heard them.
“Fine,” the teacher said, looking in bushes, ready to scold the child that made her do all this work. Tree branches were pushed aside as were bushes. “There is no one there.”
“But, there. There is!” she said, almost crying now.
“I am here. I am here,” the person said.
“There! There!” she said excitedly, about to point, but not knowing where to. She definitely heard it or at least her head heard it. “There is no one there. You are imagining things. Now, come to class!” the teacher commanded as the bell rang.
“But…..” she said and then realised that she couldn’t convince anyone. She followed the teacher back to class, quiet tears running down her face. She sat at the table, still upset. Waiting for the others to come to class, painting was next. That should be exciting, she thought. She loved to paint. “Now, we are all going to paint,” the teacher said. Paints and paper were pulled out and given to the kids. They all began to paint. Blobs of yellow and streaks of orange on some. Waves of blue and flickers of green on others and everything in between. The end of class came too soon and parents came to pick their children up.
“She heard voices or said she did,” the teacher muttered.
“It was a person!” she said, looking up at her parents who nodded kindly down at her. She glanced one last time at the teacher and happily followed her parents.
Second - 9
She bolted upright in bed and almost screamed. She had been woken up by a vivid nightmare. In her dream, everyone was dead, she was the only person she knew that was alive. She hurried out of bed and ran into the bathroom where she promptly vomited. Most people her age that she knew would wake up their parents if they vomited in the middle of the night, but not her. She hated being made a big deal out of, she loved her parents, but they would be worried about her. She walked quickly back to her room and was about to get back into bed when she heard a voice. She had heard them almost every day since she was five. They didn’t bother her a lot of the time, but sometimes they were harsher than usual. “You are useless. No one wants you,” they screamed at her. She took a deep breath and told herself not to cry. The voice pounded inside her head, repeating over and over again. “You are a failure. You should just go away,” the voice whispered, vibrating inside her head. Tears ran down her face and her body racked with sobs. “Go away. Go away” the voice called, mocking her. It laughed. Laughed at her stupidity, laughed at her sadness, her nervousness.
“You go away. Please!” she begged, slowly sinking to the floor.
“Never. Never will I go away until you do,” the voice said. She was completely on the floor now. She curled up into a ball, softly sobbing. Her head covered by her arms. She remembered the first time she heard voices. She had been five. They told her to be quick. She had thought that it was a real person and that they were hiding. Everyone else thought that she had an imaginary friend. Now she wished it was an imaginary friend, instead she had realised that they were voices inside her head and the feeling of someone’s body all over her. It meant something was wrong with her. Still curled in a small ball, she rocked back and forth. She tried to dispel the voices and touches from her mind. But they would not go. Shapes loomed up beside her and she could have sworn she felt demons trying to tug at her. The wind on the window was determined to turn itself into someone tapping on it.
She stayed in the ball. The voices still mocking and taunting her. They hated her. Finally, light came through the small gap between her curtains and window. She slowly raised her head and uncurled. She looked around the room, desperately hoping that there was a person and it wasn’t just her head. To her disappointment it was only her in the room. She got up and walked over to the curtains. She pushed them open and stared out at the bright day, exactly the opposite of her thoughts. She opened the window and ducked her head out, letting the curtains fold in around her.
Third - 13
Walking down the street with a friend she was almost free of any thoughts but her own. She was happy. “So, what have you been doing recently?” her friend asked.
“Uhh, reading? School?” she said, shrugging. She wasn’t known for doing the most interesting things.
“Ahh, I see. I’m glad we could see each other today,” her friend said, smiling brightly. She was one of the two friends that she had. Everyone else thought her strange, and with the voices she heard, they weren’t far from the truth. “I’m glad too. This has been fun,” she said, thinking back over their trip to the park. Running through the trees and then climbing them. Talking about everything except sad or upsetting things. “Umm, I just want you to know that you are a great friend and I’m glad to have you. I’m always here for you,” she said, hoping that it didn’t seem too awkward. She just wanted her to know that she could trust her. “Well, I’m always here for you too,” the friend said, grinning. “Not that you would even need someone to talk to. You’re always so happy.”
“Always so ha -” she was cut off by her friend.
“Yes, you are always so happy. So bright and bubbly,” the friend exclaimed, grinning at her. “Me on the other hand. Schoolwork is getting difficult with exams, and I’ve got almost no time to smile, let alone actually have fun. It’d be nice to just vanish until exams are over, yeah?” the friend laughed, clearly joking. “Although watching a funny movie often helps. You should come sometime,” the friend continued, looking at her.
“Um, yeah. That would be fun. Oh, there’s a bathroom. I’ll be back,” she said hurriedly, walking into the public toilets.
I’m always happy? She thought to herself. Oh, I wish I could tell you what I feel. Exams are the least of my problems, she thought. Suddenly the voice filled the room, or rather her head. “See, I was right. No one will ever accept you. No one will ever understand you. You only have one chance to make this work and you have already failed,” it said. She backed into the wall, the noise reverberating inside her head which did not suit her well as she disliked loud noises and this was most certainly loud. She gasped for breath, panicking a little as the voice grew louder. “I was right all this time. You are useless. The world would be better off without you,” the voice said. It was the only thing she could focus on, this voice that kept telling her that she was worth nothing. She slowly lowered herself to the floor. Not wanting to give in, but not having a choice. Everything was too strong. Everything. “Are you coming out? Are you okay?” her friend called from the other side of the door.
“Yes, sorry. I’ll be out in a second,” she called back. The voice momentarily going away. She would just have to continue on, she thought to herself. She quickly opened the door and saw her friend waiting. “Sorry, I slipped and hurt myself a little. You know how clumsy I am,” she said, making up a fake explanation.
“Okay,” her friend replied, smiling and continued walking, motioning for her to follow. So she followed, still tormented by the thoughts of the voice. Nevertheless, she put on a smile and pretended that nothing was wrong.
