So you think you know. – A short story.

So you think you know. – A short story.

By Danielle Parrish

A young girl by the name of Clare Humphreys, finds a book at the side of the road when she was a child. A strange connection, importance of sorts, that this book will become very useful. After years of life and hauling the book around, she finds it, dusty and in a box as she cleaned out to go to college. Suddenly the once blank pages fill with words before her eyes. What happens next, will make or break the universe as she knows it.

She closed her eyes and read the first words.

Well I’ll tell you a story about life’s secrets, the good and the bad. I don’t think you’re ready, but no one ever has been, you are reading this as a message not from the future or the past but right here and now, you my dear friend are the closest thing I have to saving the world, well the universe…

Gawping  at the book she couldn’t tear her eyes away. 

See, I told you that you weren’t ready, so you think you know… Do you even want to find out?

Who are you?

I… I, call me Alto. It has been so long since someone has asked for my name.


Why, Why? Well I’ll tell you what Clare, it’s very hard for people to take you seriously when you are not physical.

Nodding in anticipation, she waited for the words to continue.

I am writing this in hopes that somewhere at some timeline you will see this and rescue me, it’s a long story but I will try to explain. So try to keep up.

I somehow broke the universe, and now it’s imploding on my, I mean all of our timelines. NOW,Now,Now don’t freak out we don’t have much time before it reaches you too. It happened when I found out the secrets of time travel, I went to the past- to far to the past, the big bang actually and it kinda drove me a little insane. All that vast nothing and then a tremendous bright light, it consumed me and now, I am literally energy… Well some might even call me an overseer or God, but that’s not the case.

Having to re-read the last sentence, she swallowed her nausea and kept reading. Intrigued and horrified at the same time, It was all too much for her head.

But what is your connection to me?

Well some may say that the chemical reaction that created the universe tied me to the closest atoms, the energy that is now taking the form of you.

What? She said aloud to the book, so you are saying that we are soulmates?

In the simplest terms, yes, Clare. So can we move on now?

I guess so then, talk away Alto.

Right, well it’s all imploding on me, my energy is like a computer that’s trying to erase the error, and you guessed it it’s destroying our timelines and,

I need you, Clare.

You are the only one that can help me fix this, many other timelines I have reached out to have ignored my message and well, it didn’t end well.

Shaking your head, what could you do? Was there anything that was possible to do anymore?

Look inside your head, throughout your life there have been segments of a code that you have been bound to see or recognize in someway. Locker codes that were miraculously your randomly assigned pin number, the date of your fist kiss, anything that you can think of that has a lot of connections in your life.

Clare thought for a long while, trying to make sense of what the book she held was saying, think Clare think, what could be the code?  

Suddenly it all started to come together, her pin number, her birthday it all made sense…


Yes clare?

I think I might know the code…

Well anything helps, so fire away.

Clare stammered, 5, 4, 2…..7?

You might be right but there’s only one way to find out, go onto your computer I can talk to you on there as well- seeing as though i am energy, i can move my conscience and project it onto anything, in theory. But the only way I have been able to make contact is through the book.

Alto? How can you hear me ?

I thought you might ask that, I am like the air flowing, moving. But I can’t get my message across if I projected my self through your head. It would sound like your internal voice and you would dismiss it.

Ahhh, right. Clare said as she moved across her room, moving boxes and things away from her desk. She would have to continue packing later as it seems.

Now, open the notepad on the computer so you can see me type. Clare read from the book in her lap.

Ok then here goes nothing, typing across the keyboard to find the notepad application.

In a flurry the computer ran segments of code across the screen as it went black, Clare moved away from the computer as it frizzed out.

Alto…What’s, happening? She said with concern.

I don’t really know, but the numbers you gave me are the only things flashing across the screen.

A loud thud came from downstairs, her dad was moving her furniture onto the truck, to be sent to college. All these years, she thought to herself, all these years and nothing remotely interesting could have happened, you were the unnoticable teenager that every school had. But they never noticed it, how could they.

The computer stopped cold, in it’s tracks, the seemingly endless code now forming a picture, a face……she thought? The power went out, all of the house plunged into darkness. Her mother screamed.

Mum?, what’s wrong…..has something happened?

It’s too late, the computer and the book said, now with desperation. It’s too late again, no, all of my hard work, and I only ever got this far…..every time.

Alto, what are you talking about?

The voice now was losing tone, shifting and glitching a truly horrifying sound.

It’s all going to end and I am stuck in this endless loop, every morning you wake up ready to go to college, in every dimension only a small thing changes. Your hair, your eyes, your gender. Something small changes each time, but never the code, that’s the problem. The universe is like a computer and I am the error jumping from one dimension to the next, stuck to your timelines because you are the only thing that ties me to existence.

Clare looked to the window, horror on her features. The sky was black and everything was getting covered in green coding shifting in and out of reality. She screamed, was this the end?

I’m sorry, every timeline with you is now being erased because of my mistake, you are the closest thing I have ever had to love and now something is punishing me for it. Maybe, Alto wondered, if I never jumped to the past and screwed up I could have found you, but because of my stupid ambition I have ruined reality, for you and me.

Alto was dejected, losing all hope as he had billions of times before. If the universe was truly infinite would he continue traveling forever, doomed to be in the loop?

I am here for you, even if my reality is coming at an end. Clare said to the computer, her book and to anyone else who cared to listen. Looking out across her window the green and black coding enveloped everything she had seen millions of times before, never truly appreciating it because she took it for granted.

It was a matter of seconds now, the side of her house was now covered in green lines of code, all made up of those numbers, those horrid numbers that now, she wanted to forget.

So now you know clare, the truth, good and bad.

So now I know, was I  better of not knowing?  No, I was better off knowing that someday my life would end, but not like this.

Alto, can you do one thing for me?

Yes, clare?

Kick the universe’s ass for me. Clare whispered, she was short of breath, the lack of oxygen, of anything was now consuming her.

And all went black.

I will clare, only for you. I will find a way.

And then Alto woke up.


Are you ok Alto, you look pale?

Yeah, he said as he rubbed his head drenched with sweat, I had that dream again, Clare… Exactly the same one.

She sometimes worried about her husband’s delusions, but somehow deep down she knew something was wrong.


So you think you know, it’s only a matter of time.
The end.

(c) Danielle Parrish.


My Demons: short story

My demons:

School……where to begin.

during the day students come in troupes ready, or not so much so to start the day.

only after the incident everyone has been on edge…for whatever reason they don’t look to thrilled to go past Room: 2964.

Alissa?  someone queried drawing my mind out of thought.

Are you daydreaming again?

No Miss. it wont happen again. I dwelled the usual routine reply.

sniggers  and a few worried glances were the only thing on the classes mind as the teacher, obviously sleep deprived sighed.

this was going to be a dull day. Surprisingly I wasn’t fazed in the least, the only thing now thats remotely close to normal for me is dull days and I like to keep them that way.

After recess was english, how I loved that class something about being near that problematic room gives me an edge on my writing funnily enough we were on the topic of scary stories, most of the class were either half asleep or just in there to get the grade. But for me. For me it was this wonderful thing I get to write, something I haven’t been able to do since the incident something just felt. off.

As the class started our ever enigmatic and perky teacher Mr. gordinski. Yes, any jokes passed now were the usual for him- comes with the name I shrugged internally. I was working on a project about poltergeists, and trying to put a twist in an age old paranormal horror topic. And. It. Was. Hard. I worked through the class finishing the lesson with a huff, Mr. G came over and inspected my work. I looked out the window…such a calm day, although for autumn cam was a blessing.

I never expected your work to be so, thrilling Alissa. he quoted in a thick accent that I couldn’t quite place.

Just one of those creative days I guess. And with that I was out the door.

The other lesson- math- the popular choice passed by with a few, minor, issues. other than that it was a good as deadpan depressing.

At lunch a few of us- the weird ones- as they call us sat out the front of the abandoned class and ate, Emily, Clara and I. We were weird because it didn’t phase us when the noises came, Because we were the only ones who could hear them- it just felt…normal. We all knew it was coming- everyone in our group knew- we checked our watches, 1:25, And thats when it happened chronologically as usual. A banging noise suddenly emitted loudly from inside the room beside us, as it usually did so we paid it no mind. But as I ate I couldn’t shake the feeling that today had been too dull, almost as if I was invisible to the world.

The noises continued, moaning began, The group sat frozen. Paralyzed with a capital P. The voices. Our names, it sounded surreal. But the thing that worried me the most is the memories…. My eyes began to droop, losing consciousness. Fire. I remembered fire, burning, abandoned. I knew no help was coming but somehow I still screamed for help. Hoping someone could hear us. It all burned my friends are on the floor with skin peeling and shrill voices raw with the blistering pain and the smell of smoke.. Everything around me stopped. The room, my old classroom. crawling to the teeth with the spirits of my dead friends, Emily and clara. They are dead.

I regained consciousness, apparently it had only been 5 minutes since I was out. A teacher inspected me, but the warm hand against my cold skin did nothing to improve my state of health.

I informed my friends on what happened in my “flashback”- if you could call it that. I’d opt for nightmare.

I wish I didn’t, oh I should have listened to that tiny voice.

My friends looked at me but not as friends- as dead people- rotted flesh-  bloodshot eyes, a mask of fear striped my emotions as I looked at my own body, it matched theirs.

the disappearances were us- the people faded, our minds had supposedly created a dreamscape of what would happen in the real world, the living one. I felt lightheaded- was this all an illusion ?

What is the truth? I looked to my friends we were in the same position. We never left the classroom, this is all a memory.

I was dead, my friends are dead…..the noises are us…..our minds blocked the memory, submerging it with useless information.

But if we died there, why haven’t we left?

Who killed us ?

(could the people hear us screaming as we did?)

(Are we scaring them?)

A small yet dislocated and  persistent voice drew my from my thoughts again,


We’re not done with you yet….

Emily dropped next was clara, shocked and painfully.

I was next…………but what is death- without pain?

I fell ontop of Clara’s lifeless (if it could get anymore) corpse.
And what happens when you die if you are already dead?

-Danielle Parrish

Imagine- poetry:

Imagine a world where stories roam free

In a castle of thoughts and rouge mysteries 

A prince and a dragon feud til dawns light

Fuelling dreams of sweet children in their beds at night

Centre stage they fly – throughout the endless starless sky

Imagine a reality where dreams were people and we were the thoughts

A crazy world wouldn’t it be?

Were the everyday people like us, fuel flights of others fantasies

A world where war was only dreamt of, or poverty- what a thought

crazy to think humanities fighting existence was just all for naught.

Imagine the people in our heads, what do they dream?

are they much like us or much better than our dreams?

but all is the ramblings of a teenage scribe

where imagining worlds was common place in their mind

we are all stories in the end, but wouldn’t it be nice

if the people we thought we could be, come true – if just for one night.

  • Danielle Parrish (c) 2016









The Road To Revolution; A slaves diary.

The road to my revolution, A slave’s diary:


Month 1: The sale of a new slave.

I’m awakened with a sharp slap to my cheek, the cool air stings my taut limbs as I dangle aimlessly from a long chain. The chain is long enough that I am on the floor but just short enough to prevent my escape, with a torturous intent on breaking my will. Today is the day that I am sold, like cattle with no rights and barely the will to speak. My name is, Etris. Etris Domica Corinis.

Or at least it was until I was captured. My life before slavery, is a memory long lost amongst the torture and beatings to break me. I was a farmer, on the borders of a neighboring province that was under siege by roman legionnaires. I remember bloodshed, and the pain in my side as I was knocked unconscious by a roman soldier, The last thing is saw under his helm was cold unfeeling eyes. Trained to kill.


Back to the present, where I find myself at now – in a room with people being slowly dragged out by chains, I recognize a few of my fellow country men as they walk past- hope all but lost.  A guard comes for me next- he looks at me with disdain in his eyes and spits, actually spits. “ sporcizia”. Filth. Thats is all I am degraded to as i am hauled out to the markets with the others, the future is all that awaits me now.


Month 2 : The fields in which my freedom grows.


I was lucky enough to be sold to a wealthy patrician who works in the senate. I spend my long days working with my fellow brothers in the fields, guards keeping an eye on us as we work, to make sure that we don’t escape.  We eat very little, while the foods that we cultivate are used for lavish parties for the masters co- workers and their wives. Most of the food we have to haul out again, unable to touch or eat any in fear of losing limbs. So much food wasted, and for an ungrateful pig that whips his slaves and starves them, while we suffer- under his cruel reign.


Month 3: Revolution, but at what cost ?


Rumor amongst the slaves have grown from murmurs to wakes, a man named Spartacus is rallying all those who wish to join the revolt. I am well used to the life of a slave now, freedom all but a foreign concept. Besides once a slave, you are your masters for life- unless he grants you freedom, fat chance of that happening in my case.  I’m thinking about the revolt -I wish to be free so much, but at what cost to I value my life.


Month 4: A lesson learned is a person punished.


The days are longer, more guards are hired, slaves that I befriended in the fields have been slaughtered for trying to escape. My owner make a show of it, executing them in out fields on crucifixes. They hang there even now – 3 weeks after their death, out in the fields, a reminder of what awaited those who wish to be liberated. The fields stink like death making the days even  longer and my stomach weaker with every glance.


When will this war end ? Spartacus wants freedom- but how many lives will it cost ?- death is ever present on this road to my  revolution.

Danielle Parrish (c) 2016

Glass explosions – Poetry

Glass explosions :


Danielle Parrish (c) 2016


My heart turns into stone as I leap for your throne

Glass explosions through my heart,

Shards that  pierce through your darkness.

Turning tables as the day breaks, solar flares escape.

My light breaks through your shadow bringing new dawn to an everlasting night of storms.


I fall to my knees as you counter your attacks towards me, the glass explosion igniting your kingdom as i bring it all down

Start anew with a queen at the crown.

Body Of Glass- Poem – Danielle Parrish

Body of glass-


Danielle Parrish

The leftover pieces of a burnt down house

The monster that will never see the light of day.

now uncaged, breaks its bounds and runs astray.

Wishing all her pains away.

Her body of glass, once a temple, now holds.

The scars and cracks of someone else’s mould.

Tears fill in her cracks with a solemn cry

only nightfall holds her tight.

Walking feels like needles of grass on a cold bitter day.

Talking feels like sandpaper wearing her away.

Laughter once a distant memory,

with the one she thought would change her story.

Bitter how the wind changes it’s ways,

willing two people to break and fade away.

Alone she sits broken and used.

her body of glass is now the only thing that holds the clues.

Poetry: Aeither

( Pronounced E-th-r)


I am the void, the unknown.

I am what you fear when you’re all alone.

The night’s shadows surround me in a somber embrace.

They hide me

the Aether, godly grace unbound.

The bed in which you sleep, under it is where I creep

Paranoia, Hysteria, Sweat, Fear

If you feel these

It’s already too late.

I am the Aether, a force that knows no bounds

Surrounding the planets and the light with no sound.

The light cannot hinder me nor can any God

Because I am the Aether, The darkness, the Chill

I am the thing which you will feel

as I cradle you to sleep, tears from your eyes you weep

I am the Aether

I am the void unknown.

Poetry: Spirits


I see the grass all green and lush

I hear the birds as they fly by my ear

I feel the wind when there’s nobody near

I fear…. no one

Spirits in the night

pass by like two ships in a lonely dock

Never to be seen

I taste the sweet bliss of ignorance

I feel the unseen

I sense the day

I feel the chill of night

Drowning in the last light

The spirit’s light the way

I am the unseen

I am the spirit

The force unhindered

The life not been.

poetry: Your Biggest Mistake

your biggest mistake:


(sung mainly( all except the first two verses, of the poem..). to the tune of “your biggest mistake”- by Ellie Goulding)

(and yes I know that the grammar is slightly off, although that shouldn’t hinder those who wish to read it)

the tears run from your face

cascading at a pace

that my heart can’t keep


the memories wont fade

how do i break away

I can’t keep strong

cause I know what im running from


It’s a shame you don’t know where im coming from

your bones will have to break just  to know my song

it would take end of time

to realise my heart wont start’


(ohowoah- something like that)


you know this is your biggest mistake

what a waste, (what a waste, what a waste)

you know you can’t keep up at my pace

it’s best for you to just run away


take cover, in the light

you know that my brains stuck in an endless night

but you push on

cause you now know where i’m coming from


it’s a shame, now you know where i’m coming from

told you to run away but you stayed here strong

it didn’t take the end of time to realise my heart

now starts



you know i’m now your biggest mistake

i’m not a waste not a waste, (not a waste,not a waste)

and you know after all I’ve explained

my hearts takin a chance, on love again.

Poetry: Even more for you to read, just made this one, it sure is scary ……

The monsters in your head:


I am the one hiding under your bed

teeth growing sharp and eyes glowing red

I am the one gnawing at your mind asking

you the questions like “am I really alive”


We are the monsters that play in the dark

bodies of stone and without a heart

we are the ones that hide away from the sun

when you’re awake and having lots of fun


I am the one that your mum checks for each night

I’m hiding in your closet waiting to give you a FRIGHT

We are the ones that play with what you see

unicorns and rainbows and then you see ME


The lights go dark the blood boils in your head waiting to implode

The thoughts in your head to much for your soul.


We are the monsters that play with your heart

when you see something and then you see dark

when you sleep out from hiding we creep

for another night of mischief… better hide under your sheets.