She slammed the door shut, pressed her back to it and turned the lock. There were worms in the basement. It was a mostly finished basement. Just that one corner behind the furnace that was dirt. Holy Crap! That was a huge worm! What she had seen was at least two feet long and that was what she saw. She wasn’t going to be changing the air filters anytime soon. She’d have Bob do it when he got home from work, by gun point if necessary, as she stood at the top of the stairs. Would a gun do anything to a worm? Seems like it would just absorb it as it ate it’s way up the stairs and devour everyone in the house. She shivered violently dropping the filter on her toe. The corner dug into the top of her exposed foot. Flip flops were not all encompassing shoes. They didn’t protect. What if it had crawled over her foot? She felt a gag working it’s magic on the back of her throat.  She closed her eyes and visualized the gray stiff worms floating in a bucket of stinky preserving liquid. Who thought dissecting worms were a good idea.  She’d been terrified of them since the 7th grade. Those little scratchy hair things that moved them through the dirt. The alien parts that were left exposed as she pinned it’s skin back.  She couldn’t remember what they all were. She logically knew that her mind had probably exaggerated certain things and invented others, but her guts screamed the truth of her nightmares and fears—irrational as they were. What had the mind to do with fear except to translate images and thoughts for all the goose bumps that clawed at her flesh? She was panting and sweaty.


Where did “Worms” take you? Post your journey here. 10 min.

About the author

Carley Hibbert

I just finished writing my first novel The Villain's Assistant. I'm preparing to submit it to an interested publisher.


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  • When you are four and a half you are almost five. When you are five you get to go to school. When you are almost five and you can’t read yet but you’re a princess then you Don’t Like Worms.

    Like on Sunday when I am wearing my princess dress. It was just a regular dress but my teacher says I look like a princess. I twirl around and my dress goes up to my knees. It is a good twirling dress. And my teacher says I am a princess because I am a Child of God, and he is a King. And princesses Don’t Like Worms.

    So on Sunday when you wear your princess dress and you are not Sofia the First but just princess Sofie, it is bad if it is raining. Princesses hate to get wet. You could run inside quickly, but not today because of the Worms. They are everywhere! Mom says they won’t hurt you. That’s silly, of course they won’t. But they are yucky and gross and brown and squishy and princesses Really Hate Worms.

    Dad says go around them, but there are so many! What if one is tricky and it gets under your princess shoes before you notice it? That would ruin the whole day! Emma says walk in the grass, but there are worms there, too. I just know it, you just can’t see them.

    So that’s why dad has to carry me to the church. Because daddy really loves his princess, and princesses Don’t Like Worms.

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