Get Free Copy

100 free copies left

This novel is limited to 100 free copies due to its part in Inkitt’s Novel Contest.

Free copy left
You can read our best books
Any59 would love your feedback! Got a few minutes to write a review?
Write a Review

Bright Morning Stars

By Any59 All Rights Reserved ©


Bright Morning Stars

It’s too damn hot. Yet Pip is sitting there drinking her tea. It’s a million and one degrees. Hot English tea. Never chai, never chai. Too good for her, she says. Never chai.

“I’m going out,” I say.

Pip looks up. What is it she’s reading? Bah, nothing good. Something we’ve all read before.

“Why?” She placidly asks. I huff. I storm out. I leave.


There is bright light and a pain in my stomach. I scream in frustration. There’s a cool drink and good food waiting for me around the corner. It feels like slime but gets steadily worse in taste and better in texture.

The lights fade, the pain disappears. Now there’s a friend down the street. (Pip takes a sip of her tea. Takes her teapot and refills her cup in what feels like my head.) He’s a nice little boy with bowl-cut blond hair and blue eyes.

The light is a bit darker today. I hit the little boy from down the street, my friend. I got scolded, perhaps that’s why. He looks at me, no he’s crying, as his mom drags him away, no he’s crying, and I almost see a black eye. No, he sits there crying. My mom is calling his. I mumble an apology. (Pip turns a page. What’s it she’s reading? Manifesto… Manifesto of what?)

I’m playing ball. There’s the boy from down the street. My friend. There’s the new boy, black and dark and he smells like sand, his dad is from Zimbabwe. And there’s this girl, can I really call her a girl? Yes, she’s a girl, dirtied pink dress, rusty red pigtails, split lip and missing tooth. We all stand in a corner and bounce a ball. And the sun is covered by a cloud. The boy whose dad is from Zimbabwe didn’t have any loose teeth, but he’s missing one now. He smiles at me.

“Hey! You knocked that loose tooth out. Thanks!”

(Not chai. Not Manifesto but Machiavelli. No chai. Machiavelli).

My hand hurts from all the writing I have to do. The day is cool, the sky a misty grey. Blue at the edges, sun peaking out. The girl whose locker is next to mine, she always smells tangy like fruit and brings dim-sum for lunch, she was winking at me. We know the same place. It’s a travel, getting there. They kept us ‘young and impressionable’ kids as far away as possible, we understand what the younger kids can’t. (Pip brews a new pot of tea. The steeping leaves smell up the place, somehow fill up my nose.)

I end up skipping the blunt. The sex was much more amazing.

I don’t see her in school next year. I kiss the boy whose dad is from Zimbabwe. That kid who lives down the street, shaggy blond hair that covers his eyes, we used to be friends. Now he draws anime. That girl? Her hair is short and her eyes are lined and her dress is short. Only now it doesn’t show scrapped knees.

(It looks like William Golding wrote it. What book, what book?)

The guy whose dad is from Zimbabwe is dead now. The whole school is gathered into the auditorium for the assembly. It was suicide. That anime boy from down the street, he’s moved on and it was just a phase and now he likes Charles Dickens, looks like he’s next. Pamphlets are handed out to the school below us. The youngest of kids don’t even hear. They’ll lean in six years in health class, the story of the dude who’s dead. The redhead and tangy dim-sum are both wearing sunglasses in the front row. I swear they’re holding hands. (The cup clinks, a page flips.)

“I’m going out,” I say. I huff. I storm out. I leave.

I met Petunia at a garage sale while trying to find a chair for my dorm. She was sucking on a lollipop and scrutinizing the salt shaker. Her hair is long and dyed at least five different colors, tho they’re natural hair colors. She had it tied back in a loose ponytail. A tank clung to her, her shorts clung to her, and she wasn’t wearing shoes.

I think that’s what I like best about her fashion choices. She never wears shoes.

Either way, I saddled up to her and asked for her major. Theology, she replies. Economics, I tell her. She makes a joke, then I make a joke. At three am we’re throwing the other’s clothes on so we can run to a fast food joint to pick up a burger. I had been expecting the same old, same old. I thought she’d try to wow me with some bizarre position. She wow’d me in missionary.

And now she’s trying to get me to wear condoms. Cause the little slut can’t be bothered to do it herself. Doesn’t she know how cruddy it feels? Surely she’s gotten it by now. But if I’m going to spend my hard-earned cash, I’m spending it on booze. Pipsie can go rot for all I care.

The vodka is raspberry flavored and burns going down. But it’s a hard and satisfying burn. I stumble onto the sidewalk and totter towards the dorms. Pipsie should be at class, learning her little lessons on god and love, like it’s Sunday school. I should be in class, learning the finer points of  a business transaction. I puke in a trashcan. Hard raspberry washes away the flavor. I slam onto a nearby bench. A stoner, loaded and with an armful of cheese doodlzes, stumbles down next to me.

“I wonder,” He says, “if I would get chosen to fall from the sky if it ever rained men.”

“Want some?” I slur, pointing the neck of the bottle towards him. He takes a swig, chokes a little, then opens up a bag.

“I wonder if constalkes ever miss being able to hear after the harvest.”  

“I bet it’d be sad.”

We sit there for a while longer, me getting steadily drunker, him eating his cheese doodlzes. I hear Petunia’s friends laugh in the distance. She better not be with them. I don’t like it when she’s with them. Stoner noticies my changed demeanor and gives me his last bag of cheese doodlzes to placate me, then wanders off. I eat the whole bag in 5 minutes.

I feel tired.

There is no sunset, it had been threatening to storm all day. I trip up the stairs, but my world is spinning. I crawl back to my dorm. I lay in the tub, how did I get here? In my clothes, how did I get this far? Coated in my own puke and poop.  I’m starting to fade when I hear the door slam. Petunia screams my name.

“In here Pip,” I call out in a wavering voice. She comes over, I can hear her friends laugh  and her brother calling and that little kid at the mall who wanted to show her its ‘picture’. I feel uncomfortable when we’re not about me. I feel left alone. Bitch.

I stand up and fling my soiled jacket at her. Petunia catches it and throws it on the ground. I grab her hair, so long and easy to hold. She tries to get away. I pull her down, I can’t keep standing. I puke and I hear the sound of her coughing on it.

I punch. I punch. I punch. Then blood splatters. I fade. Fade. Fade. Crying.


“Welcome back,” Pip says. I can see what she’s reading now.

It’s a book we’ve all read before.

Dante’s Inferno.
Write a Review Did you enjoy my story? Please let me know what you think by leaving a review! Thanks, Any59
Continue Reading
Further Recommendations

Clarissa: Very atmospheric and descriptive language, with good character development. This is a complex and interesting story - definitely worth a read.

Tobi Doyle MacBrayne: I was so impressed with this piece. The slow degradation of the main character into a dark and crazy place is beautifully written. I liked that the characters physical descriptions were not described because it gave me a sense that it could be someone I know or love. The grief that breaks the m...

Kiz16: After a truly shocking start to the story, I found the style and content slowed down as the author introduced a varied group of characters who I thought were fleshed out very well. After a slow couple of chapters, I found this story difficult to leave with the tension growing within the house. Yo...

duggsy: This kept me intrigued, I only intended on reading 1 chapter but couldn't stop until I'd read the whole thing. The only let-down were a few spelling mistakes hence the 3 stars but otherwise a great read.

heich: Excellent story and excellent writing style. I hope in the future read your works.The story you present is innovative, fresh, different from everything else and let a feeling that you know you want to read more of it. I hope you continue moving in the same, because he's smart and only you know wh...

E_W_Hemmings: First of all, sorry this review took so long: I've had science mocks recently and then when I came to read this, I made notes to put in the review like I usually do... but then I deleted them. Well done me. As a result, this review is a bit more general than most reviews I write, but hey ho, let'...

Shannon Rohrer: This is probably one of the most imaginative stories I've come across in a long time. You have hooking down to a fine art; every chapter has been as engaging as the one before it, the story unfurling in a way that is easy to follow and paced perfectly for each round of events or backstory. Lookin...

elssxa: I love everything about this story. I want more...more...more. This author is superb. I am fascinated by his amazing work. I give him five stars.

Ben Gauger: Kudos to Bryan Laesch, author of Remnants of Chaos:Chaotic Omens for his use of the Gothic style of writing and in addition the footnotes and endnotes at the end of each chapter, a welcome accompaniment to be sure, though his use of grammar could use a little improving, but his use of punctuation...

More Recommendations

Caitlin E. Jones: Such a riveting short story, full to the brim with folklore and horrors! The rich details used to make up Doolin were as well-placed as they were written, right down to the disturbing presence of magical creatures. The lives of the humans are used to great effect, giving us short glimpses of thei...

Shelley Miller: The ideas and the set up and this are amazing! The feel of the story goes from science fiction to horror to suspense all in a big, thrilling ball. I really like your character so far and her powers and the idea of the ark being a person. The world is intense and gritty and clever as well. While a...

This story wasn't for you ?
Look at our most viral stories!

FreakyPoet: "you made me laugh, made me cry, both are hard to do. I spent most of the night reading your story, captivated. This is why you get full stars from me. Thanks for the great story!"

The Cyneweard

Sara Joy Bailey: "Full of depth and life. The plot was thrilling. The author's style flows naturally and the reader can easily slip into the pages of the story. Very well done."

This story wasn't for you ?
Look at our most viral story!

Ro-Ange Olson: "Loved it and couldn't put it down. I really hope there is a sequel. Well written and the plot really moves forward."