Rona Vaselaar
Rona Vaselaar is a graduate from the University of Notre Dame and currently attending Johns Hopkins as a graduate student.
My Best Friend’s Daughter Just Showed Up On My Doorstep, And I Don’t Know What To Do
My mind was racing. I wanted to run for the door that was swinging open on its hinges, but I couldn’t. Not with Tracy still in the apartment. The thought of her trapped in my room made me sick to my stomach. No, I had to protect her, I had to.
This Party Game Is Actually Terrifying And I Need To Warn You Before You Play
“It’s in the flesh, it’s in the blood, it’s Black Magic.”
There’s Something Weird About The Chicken Coop On Our Farm: Part Two
I scrambled to my feet, swinging the backpack onto my back, leaving the flashlight – which had turned back on – in the dirt. I lunged for the rope and pulled myself up with a strength I didn’t know I had. A few moments later, I was out of the chicken coop, gulping in gallons of fresh air.
After Finding Out The Terrifying Truth Behind My Gym I’m Abandoning My New Year’s Resolution
I saw the hole in the floor. I got closer and realized that there was a door in the floor, with a ladder leading down underneath the locker rooms. I tried to shrug it off, thinking that it probably just led to some electrical shit. But this weird feeling was nagging at me.
My Childhood Music Box Was A Thing Of Nightmares
“I don’t like this box. It’s pink and it’s creepy.” She held it up in her left hand, her right poking at the ballerina on top. “And why is she so SKINNY?” she huffed. “She looks dead!”
I Used To Take The Overnight Shift In The Morgue, And Here’s Why I Never Will Again
My breath hitched in my throat because somewhere in the back of my mind I had seen enough to know what it was. But the rest of me was still clueless. Fighting this internal battle, I turned slowly towards the table.
An Old Friend Tried To Get Revenge On Me In The Most Twisted Way Possible
I took a deep breath before I spoke, praying that this would work, please, God, let this work.
Every Halloween, I Have A Story I Like To Tell
I liked Ben, I really did. I mean, he was a nice guy. We had some fun times together in college, messing around the dorm, going to parties, all the dumb shit that college guys do. He was cool and all, but he was a little… pretentious. Well, I guess the word he used was “artistic.”