the halloween house-a short story by isabel

the halloween house

there is a house, at the corner of candleberry and elm. it is an ordinary house, with a brown shingled roof, red brick walls, and green shutters. most of the time, no one gives it a second glance. their eyes slide right over it, moving from one house to the next. there is nothing special about it.

except there is.

every year, on october first, a halloween decoration appears. sometimes it’s something small, like fake spiders on the shutters. other times it’s enormous, like the projection of the incredible hulk, who raises his brings down on top of you. for a second you think you have died, until you realize it’s only a projection. but they’re always there. and they’re always different. and by halloween, it’s a wonderland of horrors.

the adults think it’s sinister. no one goes into that house, and no one comes out. it would be presumed empty if not for the annual event. they take turns ringing the bell, bringing cookies to make it seem like a friendly visit instead of a reconnaissance mission. no one answers. they try the door. locked. the same thing every time.

the children adore it. they gather at the corner of candleberry and elm, their eyes roving over the structure, desperate to be the first to spot the newest decoration. all of them relish in the mystery of it, the element of surprise that keeps them up at night.

all of them forget it, of course. they grow up, lose interest, head off to bigger and better things. all except for one.

egbert danielson is seven years old. he has curly brown hair, creamy brown skin, and thousands of freckles. he is just like any other child, except for one thing.

egbert is only happy for one month a year-october. it’s as if he saves all his happiness up for this one month, when the house on the corner of candleberry and elm comes alive. he is always the first to spot the latest cobweb, skeleton, or fake headstone. he notices things about the house that no one else does.

he notices the flashes of pale skin through the shutters, as though someone is running through the house. he notices the soft blue light that seems to permeate every crack of the building. he notices the pair of slippers sitting on the roof, right next to the chimney. he notices the cuts running up and down the arms of the woman who opens the door, when he finally gets up the courage to knock.

she doesn’t say anything at first. her eyes speak volumes. they are the same muddy color as ocean water, and they have a shattered quality to them. her skin is translucent, and you can see the outlines of bones through it. finally, she speaks.

“we’ve been waiting for you,” she smiles, her face skeletal as she leans forward and bites him on the neck.

the next morning, there is a new decoration on the halloween house.

hey guys! long time, no see, am i write? 😜 i hope you enjoy this seasonal short story. have a fantastic (spoooooooky) day!

love from,



kiss away the darkness

another (better) song for my favorite donuts. enjoy!

kiss away the darkness 

there was a girl (you)
who was born broken into a thousand pieces
no one ever cared to pick you up, lift you up
into the stars

and then there was him
he picked up the pieces in
soft summer breezes but
he only tore you apart

at night, in the dark, through the beating of your heart
you think you hear his voice saying “it will be okay”
lies, all lies, and he’s
lying on the couch with your brother in the dark

hands in his hair, in your hair
lips on your mouth, in your mind
prying open secrets like old kitchen cupboards and you’ve
lost your first lover to the world inside your home

then she’s there,with her heart on her sleeve
open mind, scabby knees
kiss away the salty tears
kiss away your deepest fears
kiss away the sadness and the dark

i hope you like it! constructive criticism is greatly appreciated. have a fantabulous day!

love from,



long time, no see, eh?

i had a crappy song idea today and i wrote it down, and i’m gonna share it with y’all now.  enjoy!


I wish I had a photograph
Of each moment
We spend together
Cause it’s the little things that matter
I would hold it to my chest
And kiss your
And dream that I could ever matter
Falling asleep
It’s you I see
Every time
Every dang time
I wish I had a photograph
Of each moment
We spend together
Cause it’s the little things that

hope you liked it!
love from,


make your mark

i traced my fingers over the painted words, inhaling their musty scent. i am surrounded with the hopes and dreams of those who came before me. now, it’s time to make my mark.

i dip my hand into the thick teal paint, allowing it to coat my fingers, painting a single smear upon the wall. it glows among the dim monotony of the black and white letters in my room.

i think over the life-shaking words i am about to write, turning them over in my mind until i’m ready.

slowly, s l o w l y, i paint my legendary declaration.

will turner is baeeeeeeeeee!

just a little something for y’all. 😊😉

love from,


“all you need is love”

more sad stuff. sorry. to whoever wrote this song, credit for the lyrics goes to you.

“all you need is love.”

a girl, thin with two dark braids, drifts along the sidewalk, singing softly to herself.

“all you need is love.”

she rubs her arms, shivering as she walks into the wind.

“all you need is love,”

a car rounds the corner, red with rust. the driver, intoxicated. the passengers, out cold.


the car swerves onto the sidewalk, the driver too drunk to see straight. she doesn’t notice, too focused on the lilting words spilling forth from her.

“all you need is lo-”

her life ends at the same time as her song. 

have a nice day! i feel you still can… 

love from,


b r o k e n memories

ok, so i know i already posted today, but i’m kind of on a roll, so here’s some more sad stuff to make you and me both cry. 😥

b r o k e n memories

don’t let go

i’m waiting for you

hold me tight

i’m not leaving you

forgive me

no, no, no.

i can’t stay any longer

it’s not time yet


i’m not ready

all my love to

don’t break my

y o u

h e a r t

Trevor goes to Jasmine’s funeral, placing a handful of her namesake on her grave.

beautiful blossoms for a beautiful girl, inside and o u t.

He cradles the pictures he took, putting them on the walls and taking them down.

too p a i n f u l to look.

The notes she wrote him are buried deep in a box in the corner of his bedroom.

the flowery scent of her still l i n g e r s.

Tears drip from the tip of his nose onto her yearbook picture.

all these broken memories



b r e a k me

i’m sorry for your poor feels! trevor ain’t the only one with a broken heart after all this sad stuff i keep posting. 


love from,



yay, more depressing stuff. joy oh joy. not. guys, your comments are really nice, and i’m sorry i can’t write something less sad for y’all. i’m just not feeling the happy writing vibes, ya know? anyways, let’s get on to our weird poem story thing.

*warning: this story contains character eating disorders, suicidal thoughts, depression, self harm (kind of?), and suicide. if you are under thirteen, do not read this poem without parental permission, unless you’re absolutely SURE you can handle it.*


(if i was prettier, would he like me?)

mai admires him from across the room. her eyes water, because she know he’ll never be hers.

(if i was thinner, would he look my way?)

she goes to take a bite of ice cream, then hesitates and replaces her spoon.

(if i was smarter, would my parents love me?)

she’s on perpetual diets. she waits for someone to notice, to tell her to stop, but no one does.

(does anyone love me?)

her mother snaps at her to finish her lasagna. mai nods, scraping her plate into the trash can when no one is looking.

(has anyone ever loved me?)

mai collapses one day during gym; she’s too thin to run a fast as they’re making her.

(will i ever be loved?)

the school nurse takes one look at her and calls the doctor.


they put a tube in her stomach, forcing her to eat, but she doesn’t want to eat, she’s too fat, she doesn’t deserve to eat.


her parents don’t even feel sorry for mai-instead, they’re mad at her. It’s her fault, she should’ve just eaten.


she believes them.

(i just want answers.)

mai rips the tube out. it hurts, but she deserves this pain and suffering. she deserves to die.

(can you help me?)

her breaths rattle in her chest. mai rubs her hands together for warmth, but there is no warmth left.

(no one can.)

“i just want someone to care about me.”

(it’s too late.)

//oh poor girl who just wanted to be loved//

//you’re in a better place now//

//up above//

so that’s that. have a nice day!

love from,


p.s. i’m finally getting the hang of this whole graphics thing! yay! 


hello, friends! today i have another sad, depressing poem for y’all, but at least it’s not about me this time. it also has anaphora. it’s about two characters, sonya and ethan, and the choices the make. there’s a story on each side of the poem, and a different choice. 

*warning: this story contains character suicide, suicidal thoughts, depression, self harm, and child abuse. if you are under thirteen, do not read this poem without parental permission.* 



sonya stumbles in the dark. she is night. she is pain.

ethan hits his sister, who hits back. he is light. he is pain.

sonya rubs her bruises and cries. she is night. she is pain.

ethan rolls over in bed and dreams of endless sleep. he is light. he is pain.

sonya curls up in a ball. she is night. she is pain.

ethan wonders why he is alive. he is light. he is pain.

sonya hides from him and his punching fists. she is night. she is pain.

ethan finds the pills and prepares to end it all. he is light. he is pain.

sonya thinks that life is not worth living. she is night. she is pain.

ethan imagines his sister crying at his funeral. he is light. he is pain.

sonya presses the gun against her forehead. she is night. she is pain.

ethan thinks of a life of happiness, a life he could still have. he is light. he is pain.

sonya slips through the cracks. she was night. she was pain.

ethan disposes of the pills. he is light. he is alive.

sonya’s baby brother cries for a sister who will never return. she was night. she was pain.

he walks his little sister to school and kisses her goodbye. he is light. he is alive.

he arrives home drunk, laughing until they tell him. she was night. she was pain.

he wears long sleeves to hide the cuts. he is light. he is alive.

the school learns of her loss and shake their heads sadly. she was night. she was pain.

he learns of the death of a girl he’s known since birth. he is light. he is alive.

she had so much more to give. she was night. she was pain.

he leaves flowers and tears upon sonya’s grave. he is light. he is alive.

so much more life left to live. she was night. she was pain.

he prays it will be many years until he joins her. he is light. he is alive.

she lost it all. she was night. she was pain.

ethan returns home and bakes cookies with his family. he is light. he is alive.

“goodbye.” she was night. she was p a i n.

“i love you.” he is light. he is a l i v e.

thanks for reading! and remember, comments encourage & inspire me.

love from, 


p.s. yay, me! i managed a cute graphic. for once. 


hello! today i’m going to share a poem that uses symbolism and anaphora. it’s about me, and it’s kind of depressing, soooooooo… sorry. but first, i’ll tell you what anaphora is.

anaphora: the repetition of a word or phrase, usually at the beginning of a stanza in a poem or song.

anyway, here’s my poem. it doesn’t really have a title, so i call it a.n.a.p.h.o.r.a.


{i am an apple-colorful, quick to bruise, and quick to go bad}

{i am a penguin-clumsy, fun-loving, a tad naive, and slightly adorable}

{i am a calendar, with a changing demeanor and changing emotions each day}

{i am a cloud-above the others, sometimes with company, sometimes stranded}

{i am an old marker, used accidentally, unwanted, eventually thrown out}

{i am a set of new gel pens, glittery, bright, and frank with the world}

{i am a dandelion, towering above grass, first beautiful, then blown away}

{i am a new binder-shiny and special and empty inside}

{i am a down comforter, full of fluff}

{i am america, wanting change and fearing it at the same time}

anyhoo… have a nice day! comments and constructive criticism are welcome and wanted. also, does anyone have any good book recommendations? i need something to read.

i love y’all!

love from,


A Pantoum & Announcements!

Helloooooooooo! Long time, no see, right? I missed y’all. Anyways, I’m here with a short pantoum that I wrote for my writing class and some announcements… which will come after the poem. Enjoy!


Everything ended in flames

They’re gone; that wasn’t a dream

I wish it was a dream

Why couldn’t it be a dream?

They’re gone; that wasn’t a dream

You’re talking, but I can’t hear you

Why couldn’t it be a dream?

I just want it to be a dream!

You’re talking, but I can’t hear you

I turn away and let the tears come

I just want it to be a dream!

Slip between the cracks and fall into the abyss

I turn away and let the tears come

I wish it was a dream

Slip between the cracks and fall into the abyss

Everything ended in flames

Thoughts? Suggestions? Dare I say… compliments? 😉 Hey, everyone loves compliments. Well, bye!




You’re still here. You’re staring at me and waving your arms.

It’s kind of freaking me out.

Oh, yeah! 🤦‍♂️ The announcements!

I’m happy to say that I am now on both Pinterest and I’m isabel the writing weirdo  and lovelunalovegood, respectively. I post my random weird stuff on Pinterest, and I’ve posted both Tears and Raindrops and a KOTLC fanfic on there called Secrets & Sweethearts.

Don’t read Secrets & Sweethearts if you’re homophobic! I want no hate on my stories. Otherwise, feel free to check both of those out! And maybe even give me a follow… please?

Love y’all!

Love from,


P.S. Check out this awesome site to find out which author you write like! I’m Agatha Christie, apparently. She’s awesome, so I’m cool with that!