Tanwyn posted a link to “20 Terrifying 2 Sentence Horror Stories” on my facebook the other day (http://www.mandatory.com/2014/02/21/20-terrifying-two-sentence-horror-stories/).
I think my favourite was no. 13 from JustAnotherMuffledVo:
I begin tucking him into bed and he tells me, “Daddy, check for monsters under my bed.” I look underneath for his amusement and see him, another him, under the bed, staring back at me quivering and whispering, “Daddy, there’s somebody on my bed.”
So I decided to use these stories and writers as my inspiration/mentors and write my own 2 sentence horror today.
My profanity echoes around the lift as it shudders, stuck between floors. I lean against its mirrored wall in frustration and feel a cold hand grasp mine as my reflection smiles back at me.
Alright, throwback to India. During the wedding, we met this young girl (probably a future Bollywood star) who translated for us, taught us to dance and explained the Punjab customs. She was such a fantastic cultural guide, without her we would have been lost, so this story is about her.
Even though the crowd surrounded her, she was an outsider. Everything from the colour of her skin to the way she moved gave her away. Feeling a fraud, she copied their moves awkwardly.
Then a pair of eyes from the crowd caught her own, and she knew they understood. With a few explanations and a bit of encouragement, she didn’t feel a fraud anymore.
It’s the first day of mentor march! (I think I’ll need it given yesterday’s post)
I really want you guys to teach me some lessons- is there something you know well that you can pass on to me? For now though I’ll just write about a teacher.
There were rumours he was the best teacher in the city. He was patient, had a wicked sense of humour and his students never forgot what they learnt. But he only taught a select few and was incredibly elusive.
After months of letter writing and missed calls, I finally tracked him down and convinced him to give me 10 minutes of his time. His office was papered with long letters from students explaining complicated concepts in depth. Each letter seemed to be under a different heading. I asked him what they were but he was silent. He lead me to one of the notes on his wall, under the heading ‘You’.
I have a rare condition which means once I explain something, I forget it myself. These walls are my memories. I have a few things left to teach, but you must listen carefully as I will need you to explain it back to me as soon as I tell it to you, or the information will be lost forever.