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The Bizarre Writings of Gage Sears for the Fall of 2022

Author’s Notes and Introduction By Gage Sears Hello, readers of the following portfolio. I appreciate you taking the time to read my work, and I hope you enjoy it. Before I get into the details of what I have learned from the Creative Writing class in the Fall of 2022 I would like to say a few words to help you better understand my writing style, and my chosen genre for most of the semester. I have been telling stories for my entire life. Even at the age of five, numerous family members can recount times when I would tell them stories at great length, and in detail. Even to this day, my mother tells me that she had begun trying to push typing on me, so I could one day type as fast as I can think of different ideas and details that I could include in stories. In March of 2022, I decided to take one of my short stories, expand upon it, and make it into a novel. While writing the novel, I decided I may have needed some additional knowledge about writing, though I have been writing my whole life, I am only starting to take it seriously. With the mature thought of learning more about writing, I enrolled in Cowley College, which I had attended previously but had dropped out due to work obligations. During the class, I reviewed many tools that professional writers use to create a better structure for a story or poem. I have never been one for poetry but attending this class has given me an appreciation for the craft I did not have previously. In this portfolio of my work throughout the class, you will find stories in the horror genre. I am an avid reader of all things horror, from Edgar Allen Poe to Stephen King. In some stories, or poems, you will notice various methods I use that are similar to the two mentioned authors; I did this as a gesture to my writing heroes, who continue to inspire me to write. As you read, I hope you can tell which of these works were earlier in the class, and which were towards the end of the class. I firmly believe that I matured as a writer and found more ways to express my ideas in writing format. I have many favorites that I wrote this semester, and it’s hard to claim one of these works as my primary favorite. Instead of awarding one piece the title of “Best” I choose to inform the readers of this portfolio which one I believe I will be expanding on in the future. The title I believe I can expand on is “Harvey”. This particular story has the essence of both writers whom I idolize, both Poe and King, and I hope that the readers can see the inspired sections. For anyone that has not read this piece, I do not want to spoil it, but I will say, the details in the story that I used, were strong enough that I decided to recycle the story for another assignment for making a previous story into a single act play, and because of how well I believed I wrote, “Harvey”. In the single-act play version of Harvey, I walk my readers through what brought the character of Harvey to the point you find him in the short story. Thank you again for reading my portfolio, I hope you enjoy it and consider reading my first novel, “The Watcher” which is set to be released in June of 2023. Thank You!

Scream By Gage Sears I’m sorry for ruining our special night my dear, I know it’s Valentine’s Day, and all you wanted was a nice night in front of the fire with your book. I’m sorry my urges got the best of me, and I did what I did, I’m sorry that I never raked all the dead twigs and sticks outside, I’m sorry that the gutter had the loose nail, I’m sorry that the windows creak when the wind blows strong, I’m sorry my love for you, and I’m sorry for my laziness. I hope someday you can forgive me, but I don’t think you will, I’m sorry you hold grudges for longer than you should, I’m sorry you are too beautiful for me to resist you, I’m sorry I got the rope too tight on your wrist at first and caused that rope burn, in hindsight I should have used duct tape. I’m sorry for what I had to do to you my dear, I’m sorry I chose this approach to make you love me, I’m sorry that it had to end this way, but you just won’t stop screaming, I’m sorry you did not return my love at the coffee shop two years ago, I’m sorry I had to use my hammer to calm you so I could tie you up, I’m sorry my car’s trunk doesn’t have heat on this dreadfully cold night, I’m sorry I didn’t give you a blanket for the car ride over, I’m sorry that you won’t stop screaming even though I told you my wife is right upstairs asleep, I’m sorry we couldn’t run away together and be happy, I’m sorry that your lovely face will never see the light of day again, I’m sorry that I can’t go back to prison, They won’t let me back out this time my love.

Harvey By Gage Sears “I’d like to stop doing all of this Harvey, it’s your dream, why can’t you just do it?” Lewis asked his former best friend Harvey, he still hangs around, but Lewis doesn’t want him to. “Look, I’ve told you several times, I can’t do it! Don’t you get that? What’s so fucking hard to understand with that?” Harvey snapped back at Lewis. Lewis hated when Harvey got this way with him. Harvey used to be Lewis’s best friend until he got caught. Harvey had many mental problems, primarily he was a schizophrenic and a sadist. He enjoyed inflicting pain on others, and like most people like Harvey, he got caught. Red-handed if you want to call it that, though it was true, his hands were indeed red, but not because of his skin tone, or color, but the blood. Yes, Harvey was a murderer, he was trying to become a serial killer. He didn’t understand why he had the desire to kill, all he knew for sure was that after watching those documentaries, he felt an urge. This urge grew to the point where Harvey could not control himself any longer, and had to act on it but how? Guns made too much noise, knives were likely to slip when the palm got sweaty or bloody, then you leave behind your DNA for the forensic team to find, then you screwed, never making it to serial status. These thoughts never helped Harvey’s mental status if anything they made them worse. What would be the perfect weapon to use though? Something with a good grip so it didn’t slip his grip. A baseball bat? Nah, too long of an instrument, if someone had fast reflexes then he would miss, Harvey wasn’t in the greatest shape of his life. He did play baseball in his younger years that’s how he met Lewis. Lewis was the catcher of the Red Devils back in 2009, the position of one of the more athletically fit people, but this was peewee baseball, nobody on the team was older than ten, so jocks weren’t a thing yet to take these positions. Lewis was chosen because he was short and stocky. If he were a finger on a hand, he would be the thumb. Lewis was made for this position, with his height, he didn’t have to squat, he could just sit on his knees, then back onto his feet, and he was much more comfortable than the taller kids that tried out for this position. Lewis struggled with catching, but he was getting better since he was practicing with Matt, the pitcher, during the twice-a-week practice times. Lewis had never even touched a baseball before joining this team it was hysterical to watch him try to cat- “That’s it!” Harvey thought to himself after remembering Lewis on the baseball team. A baseball. Throw it hard enough at someone’s head, it might hit just hard enough to subdue him for the time being while Harvey got the main act ready. This seemed like a flawless plan, Harvey was the backup pitcher, and he kept up with it since middle school, so he had developed a pretty good arm, he could hit a head-shaped target from behind. The guy wouldn’t even do that stupid serpentine maneuver that didn’t work outside of movies. He had the tool chosen for the job, first a baseball, then a bat. Harvey couldn’t wait to feel the bones of the first unsuspecting

person he would meet after the bars closed tonight. Harvey had picked his tools well, near the bars was a batting cage, so he had the deniability of the true intentions for the sporting equipment. Everything went off without a hitch until Harvey realized he made a mistake. After beating someone until their lungs stopped breathing left one hell of a mess. He may as well have just used the damn knife. It at least would have been faster and less work. How was he going to get rid of his shoes? Shoes left shoe prints, shoeprints left tracks, and tracks would lead investigators into a camera’s view, Harvey knew this because he scoped out the camera locations weeks ago to find the best spot, cameras always got you caught. He needed help, but who could he trust with a secret this big, and this messy? Lewis, his old baseball buddy! Harvey called Lewis, who was at home sleeping warmly in his bed, and vaguely explained his predicament. It took Lewis thirty minutes to arrive, if Harvey had known it would take this long, he could have just taken his shoes off and thrown them far, then went for them after he got back to his car. When Lewis pulled up, he was mortified by what he saw. He knew Harvey had a screw loose or two, but not enough to do something like this. His stomach turned and ached like he needed to throw up when he saw the wide grin on Harvey’s face. Harvey gestured for Lewis to come over to him, and reluctantly, Lewis did. He wasn’t sure why he did, he should have driven off and called the cops. But he didn’t. “Harv! What the hell did you do?” Lewis shouted at him. “Shhhhh. Do you want to get us caught?” Harvey asked in a quiet hushed voice. He gave hand signals pressing his hands down as if to say, “Lower the volume”. Lewis understood the signal, but was still furious, and shocked. Harvey was caught red-handed; his hands were covered in blood. “Look man, I know it looks bad, but you gotta help me! Okay, it’s not what it seems, if you help me, I’ll explain everything. I promise.” Harvey bargained with Lewis hoping for him to agree, which he did after a few minutes to think. “What do you need me to do?” Lewis asked. Harvey explained how they were to go about getting rid of the evidence that could link Harvey to this, Lewis took the bat, and Harvey’s shoes, and Harvey walked in his socks until he got just out of view of the camera, then he would remove them, ball them up, and put them in his pocket, and stumble back to his car appearing intoxicated. Once in his car, he would wait for twenty minutes, then drive away. The waiting time was to allow anyone watching the camera to think that the driver was not the intoxicated man they saw. Harvey had made sure to park his car out of camera view. His crazy plan worked, and he was able to slip away without detection. Lewis and Harvey didn’t speak of that night’s events for a long time until tonight’s incident. Once again, Lewis received a phone call from Harvey at 3 AM asking for help. Lewis knew what Harvey was going to ask, this time, he made a pit stop on his way, at the 24-hour pharmacy. Inside the pharmacy, he got

disposable gloves, and shower hair nets, these were to keep any hairs and fibers out of the scene, making it a more thorough crime scene. “Look, I’ve told you several times, I can’t do it! Don’t you get that? What’s so fucking hard to understand with that?” Harvey snapped back at Lewis. “Why not? This is your act of craziness; I’m just here cleaning it up for you again! After tonight I’m turning you in to the cops!” Lewis had had enough of Harvey; he didn’t care if he rotted in jail the rest of his life. “The cops already know about me dude,” Harvey said. “They have known about me for weeks now, and now, they know about you too.” “What are you talking about Harv?” Lewis asked glaring at Harvey who seemed to be bleeding from his head. “Dude, ever since you took that ball to the face back in middle school, you haven’t been the same. You don’t even remember killing me that night by the bars?” “What are you talking about? That was you!” Lewis argued back. Nah man,” Blood spurt from the right side of Harvey’s head. “You got hit in the head all those years ago, and now you’ve killed me, and whoever this dude is.” He said gesturing to the dead body at Lewis’s feet. Lewis looked down, and the bat was in his hand, not Harvey’s. “Wait, if I did this then why are you here? How are you here if you’re dead?” Lewis asked. “Bro, I’m not real. I’m a delusion brought on by your schizophrenia from that ball. You killed me four weeks ago. And as for the cops, you might want to look around man.” Harvey said with a small sad smile. Lewis looked up from the bat, turned his head, and met four officers with their guns drawn ordering him to drop the bat. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He turned back to Harvey for clarification, but Harvey was gone, all there was to see was a dead man in a pool of blood, and a bloody baseball next to his head. “I’m done doing this Harvey,” Lewis whispered to himself, then raised the bat and charged at the police, seventeen shots rang out, Lewis fell to the ground, and the bat slowly fell from his grip. Lewis tried to catch his breath, but he couldn’t, he tried to move the bat, but he couldn’t. The warm iron-tasting liquid filled his mouth, and less than a minute later, the light in Lewis’s eyes faded, his smile disappeared, and blood poured from his mouth like an overflowing bathtub. His fingers fell, losing the grip of the bat, and his life forever.

Harvey (One Act Play) By Gage Sears Characters Harvey, Early twenties, slob, poorly dressed Lewis, Early twenties, looks like a hard trade worker, dressed moderately Setting A two-bedroom apartment Time Four weeks before the death of Lewis The light slowly fades in, revealing the living room of the apartment. An older gentleman, named Harvey sits on the couch, clicking the remote at the television. On the coffee table is a few dirty bowls from Harvey’s laziness. Harvey is wearing his dark blue sweatpants, gray lines down the legs, and a stained gray V-neck shirt. Dirty clothes lay amuck in the living room, they belong to Harvey. LEWIS: (Off Stage) Hey, Harv! HARVEY: Yeah? (Quietly, and monotone) LEWIS: Did you drop off the rent? HARVEY: I’ll get it done. Don’t worry. (Harvey finds a show he can tolerate watching, and tosses the remote on the couch next to him) LEWIS: Dude! It was due two days ago! That’s why I told you to drop it off! HARVEY: Chill, I’ll get it dropped off. LEWIS: When the hell is that going to be? HARVEY: I don’t know. Today maybe. LEWIS: It’s four fucking flights of stairs down to the office. Just go drop the damn money off! HARVEY: I will. Just chill man. (Lewis gets angry in his face) LEWIS: Fine, I’ll do it, you lazy bastard! (Lewis grabs the envelope of money, storms out the door, stage left, and exits, slamming the door behind him. Harvey does not react)

Lights dim, and time ticking signifies time has passed. After fifteen seconds of ticking, the sound stops, and the lights slowly come back on. Revealing Harvey is still in the same position, but now he has a yellow bag of potato chips. (Harvey pulls two chips from the bag and eats them slowly. Lewis enters from the door on stage left and is infuriated. Lewis stomps to Harvey who’s on the couch) HARVEY: (chewing the chips) I was gonna do it, bro. LEWIS: I don’t give a shit anymore Harvey! I want you out! HARVEY: (Laughs, and grabs more chips from the bag and eats them slowly) LEWIS: Oh! Do you think that’s funny you son of a bitch? HARVEY: You know I can’t go anywhere. LEWIS: I’ll be fine without you! (Silent Paused, Harvey chews slowly still watching TV) LEWIS: Hell, I’ll be better without you here! (Harvey remains silent, gets another chip, and eats it slowly) LEWIS: Get out of my apartment Harvey! (Harvey says nothing) LEWIS: I’m going to call the cops if you don’t go! HARVEY: Call’em. (Lewis gets angrier, and starts pacing in circles, running his hands through his hair.) LEWIS: Fine! I will! (Lewis storms out down the hall stage right. Harvey gets another chip and eats it slowly watching TV.) Off-Stage rustling is heard. (Lewis Enters from Stage right, hiding his right arm with his body.) LEWIS: Harvey! Get Out! (Harvey looks up at Lewis, smiles, then places another chip in his mouth, then back to watching TV) LEWIS: Harvey! Get the fuck out! (He brings a wooden baseball bat up from his right side, Harvey does not look at the bat, Harvey continues to watch TV) Lewis walks briskly to the TV, raises the bat, and smashes the TV to pieces. Harvey panics and quickly stands, dropping the chips on the floor, and stepping on some. HARVEY: Hey man, this is just an episode, calm down! Let’s take some breaths and think, okay?

LEWIS: (Now speaking manically and smiling menacingly) Maybe it’s a needed episode. Sometimes the shows require every episode to film buddy. HARVEY: No no no, buddy. Put down the bat! Remember what your mom said about your episodes? (Harvey has his hands up and is backing away slowly, starting to circle the couch, Lewis stalks Harvey going around the couch.) LEWIS: Every episode is important Harvey! HARVEY: No, buddy, calm down, breathe! We need to talk calmly okay? (LEWIS lunges at Harvey, swinging the bat around from his left, but misses.) HARVEY: Wow! Lew Stop! LEWIS: You caused this fucker! Should have paid the fucking rent! HARVEY: I should have, and that’s on me, okay, but this is extreme! LEWIS: It’s perfectly rational. My caregiver isn’t taking care of me. He’s eating my fucking chips! HARVEY: Now, Lew, we talked about this, I bought those, and I can relax after I get off work. That’s all I was doing. (Quickly Harvey kicks the leg of the coffee table in front of the couch, to block Lewis. It works, and Harvey runs for the door at stage left. He jiggles the handle, but the knob is locked. Lewis trips over the table as he tried to run after Harvey. Getting up, he sees Harvey, then scrambles to his feet, and runs at Harvey with the bat held high as Harvey tried the other locks. Lewis gets a few feet from Harvey, and swings the bat, lights go out, and cracking sounds echo across the stage. Lewis grunts fiercely, Harvey groans twice, and everything goes silent. Slowly lights fade back on, revealing Lewis covered in blood, Harvey, now dead, on the floor covered in blood. Lewis walks over to the couch and lays the bat down on the coffee table. Lewis bends over and grabs the chip bag and starts eating them in the same way Harvey did. LEWIS: (looks over at Harvey) You know bro, It’s no big deal. Rent wasn’t due until tomorrow, sorry I overreacted, but you were being a dick. Just so we are clear on that. (Lewis puts his feet up on the table, next to the bat.) LEWIS: You’re right. Maybe it is a good idea to relax after work. (He slowly puts a chip in his mouth and eats it. Then grabs the remote and starts clicking through the channels.) Fade To Black

Clowns By Gage Sears We move around creeping into the shadows They can’t catch us, we will avoid the gallows With the fog so dense, we wait in the shallows Eager to plunge the blade of fear We will come out this year Our return will be near We are the clowns that creep Outside your window, as you sleep We’ll take you without a peep 2016 is now since gone Soon we will respawn Appearing again at dawn We are the clowns that creep Outside your window, as you sleep We’ll take you without a peep We can see your fear runs deep

What Every Driver Should Know By Gage Sears As a professional driver, I felt it was a good idea to take away from my usual forte of horror, Now if you will, let me tell you what happens while you ride my ass in your ford explorer, From where I sit driving my giant bomb on wheels, I cannot see you, since you are so close If something ahead of me happens so I have to brake, it’ll be as lethal as a heroin overdose Driving yourself up, and under my trailer tires, your blood will pop like a jar of jam Up front, in the front of the giant death machine I drive, it’ll only feel like a slight slam So, I ask anyone who reads this realistic horror poem, Please don’t tailgate, you’ll just be another notch on the totem, Another sad statistic all because you wanted to drift off my trailer, Now your lungs cannot expand, not even with your fucking inhaler.

Helpful Sestina By Gage Sears Knocking at my door, the gentle tap tap tap, it is Death I lay in my bed shivering with fear, I remain in Despair It shall not be long until he gets what he wants, my blood. I fear the reaper himself, but I know he sees me in Red It is a natural human instinct to give him such hatred. Yet, he continues to tap tap tap on my door with his hatchet I lie in my bed, pondering if it will hurt when he swings the Hatchet, I hope when I feel the sharpened blade that has brought many their Death, I can’t help but allow this heavy weight of expectation to erode my Hatred If I try not to think about it, I hope it will take me out of this deep pit of Despair I seem to keep reflecting on my life, thinking of where I’ll go. Is hell actually Red? With the thought of hell in my mind, as he taps my door, is the river made of Blood? Sometimes I can tolerate the sight of Blood, Other times, it hurts me like the Hatchet, Maybe it’s the sight of the color Red? Can I ask the man at my door named Death? I feel like I cannot separate this pair. However, he may only have hatred Does he have any emotions other than hatred? Does he only want to take my blood?

Will the rest of my life be in despair? Does he actually use a Hatchet? Why not a scythe Mr. Death? What rules have you read? With my adrenaline high, now I see red, I am ready for anything he can do with his hatred, You want me to fear you, yet I welcome you, Mr. Death! If it is what you want, then come and take my blood! Swing wildly, cutting me like bread with your almighty hatchet, I wish that for once in my dreaded life, I no longer live in despair. My last caress of this life will leave the despair Behind me, washed free in the sea of Red, The key to my jail cell emerged as a hatchet, Not as a key, and freed by an act of hatred Of the living beings, please come take my blood Oh lord, that shall free me of life and bring me to the terms of death! If someone fantasizes about death, and live in despair, They want to cut their wrists and see the strong blood flow dark red, Hatred should not consume a life. Not use a hatchet, but a number, 1-800-273-8255

Accidents Happen By Gage Sears December 19th, 2021, A cold breeze rustles the trees in the nearby group of trees at City Center Park. Though at this time of year there were no leaves to make the calming sound as they brushed against one another on the branches. He liked when the leaves rustles, but all there were on this night to see were the skeletal remains of the trees, currently in hibernation for the winter, or as some people called it, dead. That word always bothered him, it sounded too final. With a term so final, you would think it would be a longer word, but it wasn’t. Four simple letters all within the first five letters of the alphabet. Was this word one of the first created? This was an interesting thought to have, as death had been around since the beginning of mankind. The world’s first humans were destined to be dead at some point or another, regardless of whether they knew that. But there’s that word again, dead. He hated that word, yet it was unavoidable in his chosen line of work. Out here at this late-night hour in City Center Park always made him think back to when he was a child. His mother, widowed, sometimes would not make enough money at the nursing home to pay the gas bill, therefore, they would be shut off. No heat, the furnace would not run, and they would all be cold. His sister Abbigail would always share a blanket with him, two sources of heat under one blanket were better than just one. Abigail was younger than him, she was born when he was just four years old. Being so young, he could still remember how she felt as a newborn, that distinct smell that newborns had, what made them smell that good? This creature had just come out of a person’s private area, yet the smell was peaceful itself. This private area didn’t exactly smell well sometimes. On many

occasions, he had fallen asleep on his mother’s lap in the summer, with no air conditioning from not paying the electric bill, and he would smell something coming from her lap, it smelled like those white trees that would blossom in the spring. Cherry Blossoms, he believed they were called, but he wasn’t a botanist, so he couldn’t be sure. After the leaves, or flowers, whatever they were, had turned green the tree’s no longer smelled, just as when momma would bathe, she would no longer smell. Abigail never smelled like Momma on a hot day though, Abigail always smelled like what he could only describe as, “Love”. He loved his little sister dearly; he would do anything to protect her and keep her safe from the true ugliness of the world. Eventually, this level of protective older brother caused problems when she started school. At the time the primary school and the elementary school were in the same building, so usually, he could have lunch with Abigail. It was during one of these lunch periods were he first discovered how much he loved his sister. A few kindergarten boys were teasing Abigail, in kindergarten, this was how little boys showed little girls that they liked them. He didn’t see it this way, even though he had done the same thing these boys were doing to girls in his kindergarten class years ago. Without thought, he picked up the apple that tasted like cereal that had been left in milk too long, and through it at one of the boys’ heads. The boy the apple hit was named Jesse, it hit hard enough that Jesse had to be taken to the nurse’s office, and later found out Jesse had suffered a concussion from the half-eaten apple. He was suspended from school for two weeks for this act of aggression, which just made his aggression worse, as he was unable to protect Abigail. Since he had thrown the apple at Jesse, kids began making fun of Abigail for her brother acting crazy. Abigail was told by a classmate, Janey, that when boys tease you like that, it means they

like you. Abigail passed this information on to her brother that threw the apple. Even Even though throwing the apple made kids pick on Abigail, she still loved him. On these cold nights, they would share blankets in their single twin-sized bed that felt like it was stuffed with gravel, and it might have been. Momma got it from a Goodwill dumpster after Dad died. Dad was an electrician Journeyman, and at the time, did not have a life insurance policy, so when a workplace accident happened, of finding improperly grounded cables, the family was left with nothing. He did not blame dad for not knowing about the cable, it could have happened to anyone. Dad did not want to purposely hurt his family, or leave them financially struggling, it was just an accident. Accidents happened, sometimes it was letting your foot off the cars break a little too much at a stop light, and you bump into the car in front of you. Accidents happen. Sometimes you leave the pizza rolls in the oven too long, and they burn, making them more like lava rocks than edible food. Accidents happen. Sometimes someone steals your spot in line for the movies without realizing you were the one at the back of the line, not just someone waiting for a different film to play, no big deal, you just let them know, and they switch places with you. Accidents happen. Sometimes rage gets the best of us, and we can’t contain it anymore, thus we might react violently, like punching them in the face, or yelling at them. Accidents happen. Sometimes these yelling matches get out of hand and lead to punching someone in the face making them bleed from the lip. Accidents happen. Sometimes the sight of blood stirs something up in one body, and you can’t control your urge to do more damage than a cracked and bleeding lip, so you tackle them in the dark desolate park after you catch them being intimate with someone else while they

claim to be dating your sister. Accidents happen. Sometimes after a late-night park skirmish, the loser falls with the last blow and doesn’t get back up. Accidents happen. Sometimes after you find a shovel, and you dig the hole six feet deep, a police officer shows up and finds what you are doing suspicious, well, that isn’t your fault that he thinks it’s weird to dig a hole at a late December night. Accidents happen. Sometimes police see the blood on your knuckles because you forgot to wipe the blood off, now it’s frozen to your cold hands as you dig a hole in the frozen earth to get rid of your sister’s unfaithful boyfriend. Sometimes the police must use a taser on you because not all your rage was used on the loser, and you try to get rid of the remaining rage on the police officer, but he’s faster than you. Accidents happen. Sometimes, when you are read your Miranda rights you choose to remain silent, but the wallet in your pocket tells the arresting officer that your name is Eugene Kenan Cromwell. Accidents happen. Sometimes when you are in the interrogation room and can’t find a way to explain yourself to the detective that has been rude to you for the last fourteen hours, and you have said nothing, two simple words fall from your lips. “Accidents happen.” Sometimes when Momma and Abigail come to visit you in county jail, they ask you what happened, and what got you in this predicament, the only thing you can think of to tell them is, “Accidents happen”. Sometimes when you are in the courtroom and the prosecutor asks why you killed innocent David in the park that night with your bare fists, the only thing you can say is, “Accidents happen”.