Christmas Day

By; Abisola Fashakin

You fasten the clasp on your new necklace. Your grey sweater is sticking to your back. You take one last look in the mirror and leave your room. The dining room is set with the finest china. The china you you spent hours scrubbing till it shined. Sitting in the living room are the adults. Nosy Aunt, Cranky Aunt and the nice Aunt that brings lasagna. She smiles at you. You grin back..


“Chicken!” someone screams. You groan.


Little Blessing and Junior are here. You go down into the kids living room. All your friends are here. They aren’t friends. They’re the kids of your parents friends, but that’s close enough. Liz is sitting in the corner engrossed in her phone. It’s like you don’t even exist. So much for best friends. You travel up and down the stairs about 100 times getting coats flung at your face without so much as a hello.


Uncle Wale comes over. “I love your hair”. Your hair is damp with soda that spilled all over you and your shirt is stained with tomato sauce and cooking oil . “”Thanks” you say dryly. You go back downstairs. The kids are watching kung fu panda. Liz glares at me; a silent signal that the party is lame. I change kung fu panda to family guy. Little Blessing screams. He heard the F- word. A cousin, uncle, or some random person drags him away. Everyone shrugs. We laugh. Iyo calls Quagmire a faggot. The rooms grows silent. His best friend punches him. More soda is splashed on your shirt. Your neck feels bare. You reach up to fix the clasp on your necklace. It’s not there. Like at every Christmas party your Christmas gift has disappeared.


Did I Ask?

By: Abisola Fashakin

Did I ask to be “ugly” and “fat”? Did I ask to be sarcastic, fucked up, and “harsh”? Did I ask to be a crazy, weird, unhinged proletariat? Did I ask for my body to be sawed open to save myself from my tainted appendix? Did I ask to be isolated, oppressed and scared? Did I ask to have 2 working parents who come home like a mouse barely escaping the clutches of a cat? Did I ask to constantly feel tortured as if I was fettered to red-hot shackles as my vision grew blurry? Did I ask for the mother of my mother and the father of my father to be dead? No. But I guess you didn’t ask to be a bitch. You didn’t ask to have a hypocritical “aristocrat” for a father and a soundless dunce for a mother. You didn’t ask to have a “food problem”. You didn’t ask to have your heart broken over and over again, and to feel like hope was just a fabrication made by your ill invented nightmare. We didn’t ask. But I guess by some twisted rule of fate we both deserved it.

Book Sneak Peek #1

She never took the whole injection. The sharp pain she felt in her head was a reminder that she was still herself, not a mindless robot. Though she felt like she was floating disconnected from the world, as she should feel, she was still able to think about small things like the pretty purple flowers growing in her secret garden or the cool feeling of the moonlight hitting her face every time she laid in the grass at night. She wasn’t supposed to think about such trivial things, but this was what kept her sane.

Gretel the B (W)itch

“It’s survival of the fittest. It’s always been and it always will be.” Gretel mumbled this over and over as she silently place a small gem on the ground.

“Hansel,” she said sweetly. “It seems like I’m missing a gem.”

“What!” exclaimed Hansel. He turned around to face his sister. “How is that even possible. You’ve told me that at least three times now.” He opened his satchel and counted his gems. “15,” he thought. “She’s already take five. We have less than we should have right now.”

“It seems that I’ve been counting wrong this entire time, so to make sure that we have an equal amount you need to give me one so that I can continue our trail.” she said pointing to the trail of gems she’s made leading towards them. Hansel stared analyzing her annoyingly innocent smile. When he decided that she was being truthful he reluctantly agreed and proceeded to hand her one of his smaller gems.

“No, no, no,” Gretel said with a shake of her head. “I meant the Opheux gem.”

Hansel looked at her with confusion. “You don’t seriously think that I’m going to give it to you right?” He saw her unwavering smile. “Wait. You’re not serious, right? This is the only proof that I have to show the Goddess that I am Jack Baker’s son and member of the Liare society.”

“Oh silly me,” Gretel giggled. “I’ve forgotten to tell you. Awhile back I seemed to have lost my  Opheux gem somewhere along the path.”

“What!” he yelled. “Why didn’t you mention this before! We have to go back. We have to go ge-.”

“Hansel,” she said sweetly, silencing him. “Calm down. The simple solution would be to give me your Opheux gem and let me continue on alone and plead with the Goddess to take you in. I think she will be more humbled with the presence of a woman.”

“You’re not a woman, you’re just a girl!” Hansel spat. “You find some way to charm everyone into getting what you want. I’ve made a promise to keep you safe; one that I will not break, but to let you go to the Goddess and beg to spare the life of your older brother will be the greatest of all humiliations.”

Gretel smiled, “Oh is that so?” she whispered. Reaching her hand into her basket she wrapped her small pale finger around the piece of metal that she careful hid underneath the gems. Still smiling she began to walk toward her brother, inching her hand out of the basket.

Hansel looked down at her. “What do you wa-.”

With a flash of silver she lodged the small knife into her brother’s eye.

“Aaaah!” he screamed dropping to his knees, desperately trying to free the knife. Gretel snatched his satchel away from him. Dumping the contents onto the ground she searched through the gems for the Opheux gem, ignoring her brother’s cries of pain.

“Yes!” she screamed holding the Opheux gem to the light. She gathered up her basket, leaving behind the other useless gems and dashed into the forest.

Hansel, whose face was now stained a bright red, cried in pain as his sister ran off with the only item that could save him from his life of damnation and poverty.

“Gretel,” he thought. “I will find you and I will kill you for what you have done to me.”

My Prologue Draft #1

I have finished writing my prologue for the book that I am writing and so far my friends have said that they want to read more, so share this and tell me what you think.

[ Insert Title Here]



She slammed the door open, wincing from the pain shuddering through her body, and stumbled into to the room using her uninjured hand to shut the door and bolt it shut. Willing her body to move forward, she slowly made her way to the corner of the room and collapsed. The bundle of fabric in her arm began to move. She reached her hand out to pull away a piece of the fabric, revealing her twelve month old baby girl. It began to cry as she rocked it back and forth.

“Shh,” she whispered. “It’s gonna be fine. It’s gonna be fi-.”

The slam of a door caused her to jump. Leaning forward she could hear the sound of footsteps in the distance. Her baby’s cries grew louder She kissed her baby on the forehead and began to sing a song:

I sing now of the great Demeter
Of the beautiful hair,
And of her daughter Persephone
Of the lovely feet,
Whom Zeus let Hades tear away
From her mother’s harvests
And friends and flowers—
Especially the Narcissus,
Grown by Gaia to entice the girl
As a favor to Hades, the gloomy one.
This was the flower that
Left all amazed,
Whose hundred buds made
The sky itself smile.
When the maiden reached out
To pluck such beauty,
The earth opened up
And out burst Hades …
The son of Kronos,
Who took her by force
On his chariot of gold,
To the place where so many
Long not to go.
Persephone screamed,
She called to her father,
All-powerful and high, …
But Zeus had allowed this.
He sat in a temple
Hearing nothing at all,
Receiving the sacrifices of
Supplicating men

Suddenly the door exploded and she raised her arm to protect her baby from the wood and dust flying across the room. Lifting her head she saw the faces of three creatures as ugly as ugly could be.

“Who are you?,” she yelled holding her baby tighter. “And what do you want?”

“Now now Aceline,” one of the creatures purred. “Don’t pretend like you don’t remember us.”

Aceline did know them. She knew them very well.  Clotho, the thinnest of the three, was the spinner of the thread of life, Lachesis, the ugliest,  was the measurer of life, and Atropos, the shortest, was the ender of life. With just one snip of Atropos’ scissor you would be just another lifeless soul floating in the depths of the underworld with no sense of purpose, no sense of remembrance, and no sense of time. She wasn’t going to let this become of her baby girl.

“I know exactly what you are,” she snapped back. “A bunch of bumbling idiots blindly following after Hades like a dog to a master. Well even a dog wouldn’t kill an innocent child if its master kicked and hit him until he died.”

“Oh!” Clotho chuckled. “You think we’ve hunted you down for years to kill the unfortunate baby that you’ve birthed. Of course not!”

“But don’t worry,” Lachesis interrupted. “That time will come soon enough.”

“Enough!” Atropos. “We’ve delayed this soon enough. There are more pressing matters to address. Clotho give me the string, now!”

Clotho reached into the satchel tied around her side and pulled out a string faintly emitting a soft gold glow. Clotho scowled at the sight.

“Look at this,” she said scrunching her misshapen nose. “A true god’s string would be ten times as strong, blinding to the human eye, but here we have a fake, a terr-.”

Lachesis snatched the string from her pulling it straight right to the end where it was beginning to fray.

“It seems that your life was already beginning to shorten because of your recent mishap,” she said glancing down at the baby clutched in Aceline’s arms. She handed the string to Atropos. She took it in silence and began to make her way over the rubble. She stood before Aceline peering into her eyes almost as if she could see into her deepest thought, but all Aceline could see on Atropos were two empty black pits sunken into her face.

“That was beautiful, what you were saying before,” she said her face inching closer. “Oh the songs of Persephone; her story isn’t unlike your own. T wo young women as beautiful as a summer’s day, both condemned to live a life they never wanted to live. There separation between you and her is that your fate will be one-hundred fold what hers was.”

“Go on,” she said whispering in Aceline’s ear. “Tell your poor little babe your last words.”

Tears began to roll down Aceline’s face as Atropos began loosening the knot holding a gleaming pair of scissors by her side.

She loosened the clothe around her baby’s face and brought her closer to her chest.

“Lizzie,” she said softly. “My beautiful, sweet Elizabeth I’m so sorry that I couldn’t stay to protect you. I wanted to. I really wanted to, but my fate has caught up to me and it’s time for me to go. But I’m not worried about you one bit because I know that you’re going to become a strong, determined, and loyal young woman.

“You’ll be stubborn like your father,” she chuckled. “And brave like me.”

Aceline carefully placed her daughter down beside her. She kissed her forehead and whispered, “Always remember that even the darkest of nights has a shining star.”

She looked up at the three Fates standing before her and said, “I’m ready.”

And with one snip the string fell to the floor in two pieces, now as dull as her lifeless body.



Death: Him and Her

By: Abisola F.

Dear Him,

I’ve been sitting here at the church with the polished stained glass windows, and the perfectly clean floor. Where are you?

Dear Him,

I cut my leg and it’s bleeding badly, but don’t worry I’m not going anywhere. Ill stay here waiting for you.

Dear Him,

You didn’t show up. I had to cut off my leg to stop the infection. Through all the pain I thought of you. I have died everyday waiting for you.

Dear Her,

I’ve been sitting here at the church with the clear glass windows, and the perfectly clean floors. Where are you?

Dear Her,

I cut my hand and it’s bleeding badly, but don’t worry I’m not going anywhere. Ill stay here waiting for you.

Dear Her,

You didn’t show up. I had to cut off my hand to stop the infection. Through all the pain I thought of you, but darling don’t be afraid I have loved you for a thousand years.

Dear Him,

I have loved you for a thousand years, but I think it’s time to grieve. Hope we meet again my one, my only, my liege.

Dear Her,

I have loved you for a thousand years, but I think that our time is over. Hope we meet again my one, my only, my lover.

A Walk Down Memory Lane

By: Abisola F.

Why don’t you take a walk with me

To a place of hopes, dreams, and memories

Why don’t you take a walk with me

To a place where the sun always shines

Why don’t you take a walk with me

To a place of love, hate, and memories

Why don’t you take a walk with me

To a place where the fear subsides

Why don’t you take a walk with me

To a place of betrayal, hurt, and memories

Why don’t you take a walk with me

To a place rooted in lies

Why don’t you take a walk with me

To a place of sadness, madness, and insanity

Why don’t you take a walk with me

To a place we all despise

Blog at

Up ↑