Jessica Montgomery
Stories (8/0)
Mirror People
Jennifer never thought anything could really be of nightmares. Then her Uncle moved in. Thereafter, every night she survived; became a living nightmare. The smell of alcohol lingers and follows the man. The only warning she had that her Uncle was coming once again to take more pieces of her away. After he had his way with her. He'll wrap his large hands around her throat to choke her.
By Jessica Montgomery6 years ago in Horror
Hope and Aba
Her eyes cannot move off of Aba’s form. Hope found her own breath catching. She has to stop. Knowing it’s wrong to want her best friend. But the months in agony pretending nothing has changed. Everything is different. 'Aba if only you knew.' The thought teases across Hope’s mind. 'Is it time? Am I ready? Will she leave?' More thoughts torture her mind. Hope didn’t know what to do. All she wanted is to belong to Aba. Finally Hope tears her gaze away from Aba.
By Jessica Montgomery6 years ago in Filthy
Wainya Syndicate
Something inside her stirs a deadly storm. Already powerful among all she controls, her calling call is written in blood. Who fears such a woman? I’ll tell you. Other killers. She is not like any other. Each kill has been precise and beautiful. Her name is Wainya. She runs a new kind of Syndicate. Of course, it’s not your run-of-the-mill Asian organization. No, no. No, Wainya changed the script. What she did was give others something to fear other than themselves, being the monster that did not only kill with a contract but with own personal motivation. If another stood in her way of changing the dark world of killers, Wainya put an end to them or him or her. Her vision is clear. Wainya wants to be the elite organization not for the personal power but for the security, needing the respect and resources of all other organized killers to protect her and her own. Like all people, she had something to fear, it being far more frightening than knowing Wainya will spill your blood. Let’s not talk about such things. In this world, there is more than just blood. Wainya had a hunger for the flesh in another way. It did not matter who you were; if she wanted you, you bend to her. Aside from being a pentacle of nightmares, Wainya’s beauty is striking. Only the killers she employed under her knew her true appearance. Wigs, contacts, and clothing hid her identity from the world. It kept her safe.
By Jessica Montgomery6 years ago in Filthy
Not So Casual Encounter
We both agreed it would be just casual. No strings. Little did we both know that it turned out the way it had. The text finally came in. He was waiting downstairs for me. Craigslist was perfect for those lonely moments where you need to let loose. We didn’t exchange pictures. Set it up that way so we wouldn’t have to worry about getting too attached. Instead we treated this like a one-night stand. Only problem, my best friend had not left like he promised. Kevin didn’t know who this person was coming over. I was too embarrassed to let him know my intentions. We aren’t the type of friends to keep things from each other. But I have not ever done anything like this. I was as he called, “a good girl prude.” By no means am I a virgin. I just preferred to have dated a guy a few months before letting it get that far. To be honest I haven’t had sex for two years. Had relationships that failed before we made it to the bedroom. Suffice to say I was more than willing to throw my morals away for fifteen minutes of pleasure.
By Jessica Montgomery6 years ago in Filthy
Always
I glide over the water, flowing with the current. Absorbing the beautiful energy. Not a care in these moments. For I am truly and utterly free. The entire universe is at a stand-still. Taken in all my breath. My livelihood I surrender to it. Becoming one to not separate. I am the gentle breeze against warm cheeks. The cool sand you explore your fingers in. A quiet sound of water over the rocks. And the blue in the sky compliments my existence. I glide over the water. Sink to the bottom like a stone. I am all the sounds above the surface. Bubbles are my sacred breath. I am all things. And I am nothing. But with you, I am always.
By Jessica Montgomery6 years ago in Poets
Dear Young Angel Eyes
Dear Young Angel Eyes of my past self, I know it seems hard now and no hope seeps through. But I promise you... this abuse will end soon. The welts, tears and innocence taken, you will lift your head high and smile still. That kindness in you will never fade. Your broken heart will mend and heal. Nothing will ever change that gentle spirit. Angel Eyes you will survive! Know all the cruelties of this world. Keeping the hope you buried deep inside. The better tomorrow is coming little one. Remember who you are. And don't ever give up. I'll see you soon.
By Jessica Montgomery6 years ago in Poets
Sorrowful Howls
In the early morning of my childhood, I can vaguely remember what my eyes saw. But the feelings, the sounds I know well. Crickets singing nature's lullaby. Light rain showers outside the den. Growling rustle of playfulness. My mother's cold, wet nose nuzzling my muzzle. The warmth of her underbelly drawing me in. Suckling the nipple for sweet, sweet milk. Father has returned from the hunt! Shaking away the water droplets. Raw meat...and blood intoxicate the air. My mouth waters; wanting a taste. But I am far too young so I continue to suckle the milk. Ears twitching, brother and sister devours father's kill. Disappointed, I whimper and cry. Mother nuzzles me in tight. Even father lays next. Giving my muzzle a good licking. Yawning, stretching I drift off to sleep... Faintly hearing sorrowful howls.
By Jessica Montgomery6 years ago in Poets