RaffertysRules

The first time I saw my friends was right after we moved into our new house. I didn’t like the house my parents bought. It was old and dirty, with grime on the windows and doors that creaked and redbacks under the stairs. The yard was practically a jungle with overgrown gardens and grass up to my knees. I just knew I would be stuck cleaning that mess up even though there was bound to be mice and snakes and who knows what else living there. The kitchen was old. It had one of those orange laminate bench-tops that were popular when my mum was a kid. The wallpaper was faded and peeling and there was only one sink. There was a little square

I knew this would happen. Granted I hadn’t expected it to be quite so soon, but I had expected it. And I told them. Repeatedly. I tried to warn them; tried to prepare them for this moment, but they refused to listen; refused to believe. I’m not so crazy now, though, am I? I’m no longer the strange woman parents warn their children about; no more crossing the street to avoid me now. No. Now it’s “I always knew there was something to your theories, Mrs Kelly”, and “I never believed what they said about you, Mrs Kelly”. Oh no. The shit’s hit the fan and suddenly I’m the bees’ kne

TRIGGER WARNING: SUICIDE I never knew snow had a sound. Oh, I knew about the crunch it makes as you walk over it and the irritating nails on chalkboard sound of skis passing over the top. I have even heard the dull thud of snowballs hitting my brother once when we visited Charlotte Pass. Nothing in my life, though, prepared me for the near silent whisper of snowflakes floating gently to the ground, a sound so quiet it is almost felt rather than heard. I used to love snow, used to ask Santa for a white Christmas. The movies, cards and carols always made it seem so magical; all snowmen and Yule logs and sleigh rides. Not the sweat and dust an

I was marked at the moment of my birth. My mother lay screaming on her birthing blanket, tears leaking from her eyes, her forehead beaded with sweat, my slimy head dangling from her body while the priests placed the tattoos on my cheeks. She wanted to keep me, my mother, wanted to take me and run, but the elders caught her as they almost always do, and they took me from her. The moment I was pulled from her body, my mother was killed. She had birthed a fatherless babe. She was unclean and could not be allowed to corrupt the other girls. Her body was burned with cleansing fire and her ashes scattered in the Valley of Shame. There was no grave

‘’Twas the night before Christmas when all through the house, not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.’ I wish.  It sure as hell isn’t that quiet in our house, let me tell you. There’s no popping off to bed early, dreaming of sugar plums (whatever the hell they are) and waiting for good old St Nick here. No, here it’s all noise and bickering and chaos. To start with, today is the day our in-laws all decide to pop in for a quick visit and every. Single. One just has to give the kids candy canes and biscuits and lollies. So now we have a house full of kids all hopped up on sugar, bouncing off the wall

Armin knocked quietly on the door to Levi’s office. “Enter,” came the flat voice from within, and Armin promptly obeyed, greeting the Corporal with a salute. “You asked for me, Sir?” he said, politely. The Corporal searched Armin’s face impassively for a few moments before responding. “Armin,” he said softly. “As you know, [YOUR NAME] was killed in today’s Titan encounter. A letter was found amongst her personal effects. That letter was addressed to you.” He handed a small envelope to Armin and waved him out the door. Armin made his way outside and settled with his back ag